“Go on,” said Jem. “Read the label. It’s good for about every kind of thing.”
Morgan read, first to himself and then aloud, “Dr. Ellis Wanamaker’s Miracle Liniment and Medicinal Rub. With the healing extracts of aloe and willow bark.” He stopped reading and cocked an eyebrow at Jem. “Looks like it has about every kind of thing in it. Oil of petroleum. Alcohol. Sodium chloride. Tar ex?—”
Max said, “That sodium chloride. That’s salt, isn’t it?”
“Fancy salt,” Jem said. “That’s why they call it that.”
No one corrected him.
Morgan went on. “Tar extract. Camphor. Black cohosh. Poke root. And here, look at this. Lemon zest. He has brass, I’ll give him that, to list the ingredients. There aren’t many who will do that. It makes me wonder what he isn’t revealing.” He started to pull on the cork stopper.
“Please don’t open it at the table,” Jane said quickly. “It cannot possibly smell good.”
“Oh, it doesn’t,” said Jem. “That’s the first sure sign that there are a couple or three things in there that will work. There’s no such thing as medicine that’s good for you that doesn’t smell like it’s gonna kill before it cures.” He looked at his brothers for confirmation. “Remember that plaster Ma used to slap on our chests?”
That memory set them back a dozen years. They had to agree he was right. “It’s probably safe enough to use on the outside,” said Jake.
“That’s why it’s call a liniment,” Jem said. “You don’t drink it.”
Morgan set the bottle to one side and picked up his fork. “Did you buy this directly from Wanamaker or was Mr. Burnside selling it in his drugstore?”
“From the doctor himself.”
“I see.” Morgan looked at Jane. “Did he tell you he was a snake oil salesman when you met him on the train?”
She shook her head. “No. He introduced himself as a doctor. I took him at his word. I thought he had equipment in his valise, not samples. It is possible that he is a doctor, you know.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jane laughed. “All right. I do not believe it either. Not now. Thank goodness you did not insist on asking him for help when I did not feel well. There is no telling what he might have done.”
“She’s right, boss,” said Jem. “Wanamaker’s smooth with the ladies. I watched it myself. Renee only gave him the time when he asked for it, if you know what I mean, but Cil Ross kept circling. So did Marianna Garvin. That’s the milliner’s daughter. The one who’s not married to the undertaker. She kept comin’ around like?—”
Morgan pointed his butter knife at Jem. “Swear to God, Jem, you’ll take your supper on the porch if you keep going on.”
Jane leaned toward the much-chastened ranch hand and patted him on the forearm. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “You can tell me everything while you are helping me with the dishes.”
“I sure will,” Jem said, beaming. “I sure will.”
Across the table, Morgan gave Jane a grateful look before he addressed Max. “What about the wolves? How far did you ride?”
“Ten miles or so past Whiskey Knob. Followed the pack’s trail for a while, then Jessop here saw something else worth following so we took it on ourselves to take a different course.”
Morgan switched his attention to Jessop. “When were you going to tell me about that?”
Jessop’s eyes swiveled the smallest degree in Jane’s direction. “I figure it could wait until after supper.”
Morgan caught Jessop’s guarded expression. He nodded. “I’m sure it can.”
Jane said, “Am I to be excluded, then?” She looked around the table until her gaze landed on Morgan. “That’s what you mean to do, don’t you? Discuss whatever it is outside of my hearing?”
“Yes,” said Morgan. “That’s exactly what we mean to do.”
“That is very disappointing.”
“How you feel about it is up to you. You could choose to believe we’re doing you a favor and be grateful.”
Jane started to say something, but Morgan gestured to the other men at the table, who were currently staring at their plates and at least trying to give the impression they were uninterested. She put a forkful of braised beef in her mouth instead.
