Meanwhile, the cold had begun to turn his ears and face numb, and so Nick turned and continued on his way toward Bachelor to visit with Dr. Thomas. The chill in the air was much more pronounced today. It was a sort of cold Nick hadn’t felt before in Cincinnati. It was as if the air here came straight off the tops of the snowy mountains and settled in about the town. As he walked, he found himself wondering what the winters were like in Missouri, where he presumed Miss Rousseau had spent her childhood. He’d come through Missouri on the train, but that was hardly the same as living through an entire winter in the place. And where was her mother? Would she have approved of her daughter gallivanting about the West in a wagon, stopping in towns that might present danger to a woman who appeared to think nothing about running around alone?
He’d become so lost in thought that Nick had almost walked past the doctor’s cabin. He stopped and took a step backward to the door. Through the window, a fire burned cheerfully in a fireplace. Nick knocked. When no one answered, he opened the door and entered an empty room. Before he had time to take in much of his surroundings, a well-dressed man only a few years older than Nick walked in from a rear room.
“Good afternoon,” the gentleman said, pausing near the fireplace. He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Dr. James Thomas. Are you new in town?” He held out his hand and Nick removed his gloves to shake it.
“I am, only arrived yesterday. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Thomas. I’m Nicholas Gatewood, also a physician.” The fire crackled nearby and Nick tried to resist the urge to step closer and warm his frozen body. He hoped Miss Rousseau had retreated to wherever it might be she was staying, instead of to those wagons outdoors.
And there he was, thinking of her again, when he ought to be giving all his attention to the man standing before him.
Dr. Thomas gave him a broad smile. “Please call me JT. Have a seat.” He held out a hand for Nick’s coat and hat and gestured to the wing chairs that were arranged conversationally before the fire.
Nick sank into one, grateful for its proximity to the fireplace. He was finally beginning to have feeling in his fingers again. A child shouted from somewhere else in the cabin, followed by giggles just behind the door.
“Pardon me a moment,” JT said with a smile. He crossed to the door, opened it, and promised the children hiding in the next room that he’d play with them later on.
“Now, tell me, what brings you to Creede, Dr. Gatewood?” JT asked as he lowered himself into the other chair.
“Nick, please,” he said. JT’s question was a good one—and one Nick didn’t have an answer for. He’d had a hard enough time explaining to his own parents and his patients back in Cincinnati why he was leaving. “I’m on a tour of sorts, I suppose,” he said after a moment.
“Oh?” JT leaned forward, clearly curious. “We’ve seen a few gentlemen come through town, taking in the sights. One of them married and made Creede his home. I’m from Philadelphia myself. Are you planning to return home or are you looking for a new place to set up your practice?”
“I . . . I’m not certain yet,” Nick answered. A feeling of discontent had driven him from Cincinnati. He’d felt the need to do somethingmore, something to truly help people. He supposed he was searching for that out here. Whether he’d find it, he wasn’t certain. But as of right now, he couldn’t fathom returning to his practice at home, where he’d treated women for fainting spells and men for the inability to sleep or for ailments brought on by eating too much. He’d become a doctor to save lives, not to tell people that eating eight courses for a nightly dinner was unhealthy.
Dr. JT sat back in his chair. “Well, we could always use another physician in Creede. It’s a growing town. I set myself up here so I could easily see patients in both Creede and Bachelor.”
Nick warmed with the invitation to remain here. A vision flashed across his mind—treating people who truly needed him, perhaps in a small but comfortable home where a few dark-haired children and a pretty wife with soft brown eyes and chestnut hair greeted him after a long day. He blinked quickly to rid the vision from his mind. He must be exhausted, else he wouldn’t be placing Miss Rousseau in such ridiculous imaginings. He’d be certain to turn in early tonight.
“Thank you,” Nick said to JT as soon as he thought he could speak without giving away the wild thoughts he’d had. “I’ll give that some thought. In the meantime, I wonder if you’re familiar with the medicine show that’s arrived in town?”
“Ah, yes,” JT said, steepling his fingers together. “This is the first I’ve seen one of those in Creede, although I haven’t lived here all that long. I’ve heard they’re drawing quite the crowd.”
Nick sat forward, eager to speak with one who would understand how detrimental this quackery was. “People are believing these ridiculous claims, that this single elixir can cure all their ills. The man has even gone so far as to pay folks in the audience to back up his falsehoods. He’s fleecing these hardworking people of their money for a tonic that’s likely nothing but useless herbs and alcohol.”
“Let’s hope that’s all it is,” JT said. Nick silently agreed. He’d heard of these so-called doctors and professors using opium in their “medicines,” a treatment reserved for only those in the gravest of pain.
“We must do something about it. I cannot, as a doctor, stand by and watch this man spew his lies to people all too willing to believe him.” Nick stood and paced before the fire. “We ought to go to the marshal. Perhaps if we went together, he’d agree to drive them out.” He ignored the pinch in his heart at the thought that the spitfire Miss Rousseau would be leaving with her father. The health and well-being of the people in this town was much more important than his questionable attraction to a pretty girl.
“Now, I agree with you,” JT said. “But don’t believe that will do anything except gain us enemies—both in the folks from the medicine show and in the people who want to believe in them.”
“I’d rather have enemies than see people be fooled like this,” Nick said, trying to control his emotion. He shoved his hands into his trousers pockets. “It isn’t right.”
“I understand. But I believe the best course of action is to simply wait them out, and to offer advice to people as we can. These shows never stay in a town for long—else people would discover their medicines do nothing.”
Nick forced out a breath. JT was right. Still, he could hardly stand the inaction.
“The marshal won’t drive them out, anyhow. Not without some proof that they’re selling false goods. Which you can’t get unless you could somehow analyze what they put into that medicine. Although, even with that, they could claim it to be some sort of homeopathic remedy or something they learned from the Indians.”
Nick nodded slowly, the fire he’d felt earlier diminishing some. “All right. But that won’t keep me from offering the truth to anyone who will listen.”
“As you should,” JT said. “Now, tell me about the practice you had in Cincinnati. I’d enjoy hearing any new developments you might have learned. As you can imagine, it’s difficult to keep up with changes in treatments and new medical discoveries here.”
Nick nodded, almost happy to get his mind off the anger that had plagued him since he’d spotted the medicine show. But even as he spoke of the last lecture he’d attended with the Ohio State Medical Society, his mind wandered.
What sort of proof would Miss Rousseau give him? And when might he find the opportunity to get to know her better?
