But here and now? People needed her. The world righted itself and she had a purpose. At least for this brief respite.
Why didn’t she feel that purpose at home?
As sisters, they still needed each other. At least that’s what the logical side of her brain reminded her.
Granddad and Mama would both echo that fact. So why was she struggling?
Perhaps it was easier to close herself off because of the headaches. The pain overwhelmed her.
Then there was her father.
Ever since their ride out to the mining camp, his face kept coming to mind. Like he actually cared.
It had been months since he’d returned to Nome. Maybe it was time she let go of her anger toward him. Eli and Bethany were sweet, and she longed to know them better, and yet, she held them at arm’s length.
Why?
As the question tumbled around in her mind, one thing continued to make sense.
She was a mess.
Whether it was Mama’s death, or Granddad’s, Dad’s surprise return, or Sinclair’s attack—whatever it was, something wasn’t right. That was why she felt so alone. Abandoned by God. Numb.
Broken.
Slipping out from under the blanket, she looked around the room. No one else was there. The women had tended to business and let her sleep. Just as well. She had no small talk left to give and certainly didn’t want to involve herself in any discussion of importance.
What was wrong with her? Mama would scold her for such an attitude. Maybe if she took the dogs for a run, she could clear her head and get rid of these feelings.
As she pulled on her layers of clothing, she patted her pockets. Where did she leave the bottle? It wasn’t in her coat pocket. Where had she put it? Scrambling, she searched through her bedding––and found it underneath the fur blanket. She put a hand over her heart and tried to calm the racing.
She’d found it.
Relief filled her as she looked at the tonic bottle, but the weight was too light. She swirled the precious liquid. Probably a sip or two left. She’d have to wait until she got home to refill it. Which meant she could only use it if it was absolutely necessary.
Never mind. She could keep the headaches and anxiety at bay by simply staying busy. Mind over matter. Granddad used to tell her that all the time. She could do it.
Amka slipped into the room. “Peter needs to speak with you.”
“Is something wrong?” She tucked the bottle into her pocket. Did Amka see it? “I mean, are things worse?”
Her friend nodded. “It’s very bad. Many are ill and more are coming down sick. Dr. Peter is so good to care for them. He has calmed their fears of a white doctor.”
Whitney finished tying her boots. “Where is he now?”
“I left him in the main lodge. We put as many sick there as we could ... like a hospital.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m sure it saves him time.” She got to her feet. “I’ll go find him and see what I can do to help.”
Amka nodded. “I will rest for a while. Let me know when I am needed.”
Whitney made her way to the largest of the village buildings and stepped inside. A large fire had been built up to warm the room. Dressed as she was, it wouldn’t take long for her to overheat. Removing her heavy coat, she spied Peter across the room and then stopped in place. His gentle manner as he bent over an older man made her breath catch. Peter smiled down at the man and then laid a hand on his arm.
As she stood frozen in place, she watched him go from patient to patient. Always with a smile. A gentle touch.
He’d come to check on her many times after she’d hit her head. Each time, he’d treated her with that same care. Whatwould it be like to have Peter caress her cheek not as a doctor, but as a man—?
Oh!Whitney turned on her heel and nearly knocked down one of the elders as she grabbed her coat and fled the room. Where hadthatthought come from?
