Mr. Jericho Coulter set the chair behind Naomi, so Dinah shifted her focus to Mr. Gilead Coulter. "I'm Dr. Dinah Wyatt, and this is my sister, Miss Naomi Wyatt." Naomi had already written of her condition in letters to Jericho, so there was no need to hide her unwed state.
Her gaze moved to that man before she could stop it. "You two share a common surname." She could assume they were brothers, but they might share a different relationship.
Mr. Gilead Coulter nodded. "Brothers, all of us. Jer is the oldest, then Jonah.” He nodded toward the bed. "Next is Jude. I think he helped bring Jonah back. I'm fourth in line, then Sampson. You might have met him too. Miles is the baby. He’ll be here in a minute."
Was he the young voice she'd heard? That high-pitched voice had sounded a great deal younger than these other brothers.
Another face peeked in the doorway, fair and feminine. "Can we come in?"
Gilead glanced back. "This is Lillian. She and her brother Sean are our sister's children." He motioned for the girl to enter.
She stepped in, revealing herself to be somewhere around nine or ten years old. The boy behind her shared the same flaxen mop of hair and appeared younger, but only by a year or two.
Dinah smiled at them both. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Lillian. Master Sean." She reached for her belongings, which Jericho still held. "I'm going to wrap your Uncle Jonah's leg so it can heal properly. Perhaps you'd like to help."
Some physicians wouldn't welcome children in a sickroom, but Pop had invited her in when she'd come running to him at the tender age of five. She'd never have discovered this calling if not for him and his willingness to share his knowledge.
As she pulled out her supplies, she talked through the medical names of each. Then she explained her actions as she placed her stretchiest bandage around her patient's heel and wrapped another strip of cloth around and around the ankle and calf. "This needs to be tight enough that it won't slip when a little pressure is applied, but not so tight it hinders blood flow.” The poor man needed all the blood flowing through him they could allow.
She glanced up to see what the others were doing. A crowd had gathered between the door and the footboard. All men. The room felt so much smaller than it had seconds before.
She swallowed down her nerves and returned her attention to her work.
She didn't speak again until Sean's little voice sounded. "Will he be able to get out of bed?"
“When his leg heals.” The lad probably only meant to ask if the cloth she was wrapping around the footboard would require his uncle to stay on the mattress, but the question struck her in the larger sense. Would Jonah Coulter ever be able to rise? If he recovered from the blood loss and didn't develop a lung condition from lying abed so long, would his leg heal enough to support him?
Lord, give me wisdom. She’d successfully worked with Pop to help two other patients heal from a similar break, and both had eventually recovered enough to walk with only a slight limp—a year later. Both patients had been willing to put forth the effort to regain their strength and movement. They'd had to struggle for every skill they re-learned.
Would Jonah Coulter be willing to fight—day in and day out, battling against his flesh to build up his strength and movement? If he didn't, these men would think the fault was hers.
Her reputation in this land as a capable doctor would be tainted. Her clinic would be doomed before she could even hang her shingle.
And Naomi. Would Naomi be welcome here? If Dinah failed to bring their brother back to his former abilities, would they be so angry at her that Jericho would refuse to marry her sister?
She barely held in a snort. He'd already refused.
As soon as she finished adjusting the weight hanging over the footboard for proper traction, she would find a place for Naomi to rest.
Then, she'd have a talk with Jericho Coulter and find out the truth about the advertisement he’d placed.
CHAPTER3
Now was the time.
Dinah tucked the worn paper in her skirt pocket, then stepped from the little bed chamber and pulled the door closed.
Apparently, there were only two rooms off the main living area in this little cabin. One where Jonah rested, and the other where the two children slept. Naomi now laid on one of the narrow, lumpy cots in that chamber. The way the mattress sank in the middle, it hadn't taken much to prop her feet up high enough to be above her heart. When Dinah had a moment, she'd tighten the bed ropes beneath both mattresses.
Just now, though, she needed to have a candid conversation with Mr. Jericho Coulter.
He stood with Lillian at a work counter on the far end of the room, chopping something as the girl watched. When Dinah approached, he looked up, meeting her gaze with wary eyes.
Best be straightforward. "May I speak with you privately, Mr. Coulter?" She offered Lillian a brief smile. "I'll only take him for a moment." Hopefully they wouldn’t need long to sort through his behavior by the creek and what should happen with her sister's future.
If he was a man of his word, they could simply clear up whatever caused the misunderstanding and decide how to move forward. Naomi would want to be part of any conversation that included plans for their nuptials of course, but it might be best that Dinah get things to that point without putting her sister’s tender feelings in peril.
The man spoke something to his niece, his deep voice rumbling too low for her to make out the words. Then he turned and strode toward the front door.
