“Do you mind if I test you again this morning?” She had almost a week’s worth of the snakeroot in her system. So far, he was pleased with the results.
“Not at all. But it does make my arm cold, so could we do it inside the tent today?” She gave a dramatic shiver.
He smiled. “Of course. Lead the way.” He held out an arm and then followed her back to her makeshift tent.
Peter pulled the sphygmomanometer out of his bag and placed the cuff over Whitney’s upper arm.
She winced as it tightened, and he watched the mercury manometer.
“Remember, deep breaths.”
She nodded.
After several minutes, he’d obtained what he needed. “It seems that your readings are indeed going down. Which is what we hoped for. I would continue with the snakeroot twice a day. How are the headaches?”
“I’ve had two this week, but then again, I’ve been too busyto even think about if my head is hurting.” The smile she gave him was more relaxed than he’d ever seen from her. “They haven’t been as intense as before.”
“Good.” His heart twinged when he couldn’t tear his gaze away. She was so beautiful. “Thank you for everything you’ve done to help me. I think we averted a real crisis.”
“It’s good to be needed. And, to be honest, to do something different. It helped me to get my mind straight again and off of the loss.” Her smile faded a bit. “I’m dreading going home knowing that Ruth is going through her own loss right now.”
Chris had gone back with another miner several days ago, but he’d told Peter that after she gave up her whiskey to him, they’d had a good talk.
Maybe that helped her too, along with the snakeroot. “That’s understandable. You know loss too well.”
“How do you deal with it? Loss? You mentioned that you lost your wife and baby—and I guess I don’t understand how your other pain isn’t brought to the forefront every time you lose a patient.” She tilted her head as if trying to get inside his mind. “How do you not push everyone around you away?”
The intensity in her eyes drew him in. He wanted—no,needed—to tell her. But what would that do to him?
“I’m sorry I brought it up.” She reached out and patted his arm. An innocent enough gesture, but it sent a shock up his arm and jolted his lips loose.
“I lost my wife, Charlotte, and our baby boy six years ago.” Had it been that long already? His stomach trembled like an earthquake.
“I’m sorry.”
“There are other reasons, too, why I’ve dedicated my lifeto medicine. I lost my father to a farm accident when I was a young boy. My grandmother was a midwife, and in the midst of our grief, she taught me about the use of herbs and plants for healing. It kept me occupied, and her as well, I’m sure. Over the years, we worked together in our small farming community. Eventually, I lost her too, but God had planted the seed in my life to be a doctor.”
“How did you meet Charlotte?”
Oh, what a sweet memory. He smiled. He wrapped up the sphygmomanometer and placed it back in his bag. “We were neighbors. Our fathers owned farms next to each other. She began to follow me around when she was barely as tall as the wheat. We were the only two children within miles, so naturally, we did most everything together. She bugged me with thousands of questions every day, and she would say that I was mean to her and stole her ribbons.”
“Sounds like the two of you were meant for each other.”
Another stab to his heart. “Yes. We were.” He shuffled things around in his bag to avoid looking at her. What would she see? That he’d come to care for Whitney so much he couldn’t fathom the thought of losing her too? What if he failed her as he’d failed Charlotte?
Peter seemed to be a natural with the dogs and sled. He had a keen sense of balance and managed the team as if he’d been doing it most of his life. Whitney had never known anyone to take to driving a team so easily.
When they were still a good ten miles from Nome, Whitney slowed her dogs and brought them to a stop. Peter did likewise, and when he saw her set her hook, he followed suit.
“I thought this was a good place to rest for the final leg.” She pushed back her parka hood and raised her snow glasses. “How are you doing?”
“I think I’ve got the hang of it, for the most part. Sometimes I’m given to daydreaming, but I learned quick enough that’s a mistake. I nearly fell off the sled.”
“Yes, you have to be aware of the dogs every minute. They can get easily distracted too, soyoumustn’t. Now’s a good time to check each of your dogs. Make sure their feet are good. Check to see that the harnesses aren’t rubbing sores on them and are sound all the way around. I had one snap on me once. Made a mess of things.”
They went down the line as Peter checked each of the dogs and every inch of the lines. Whitney could see he was meticulous—like a doctor with a patient. She smiled to herself. She liked his no-nonsense manner. He was like her in that. When things required seriousness, he gave it. When there was room for more levity, he gave that.
What’s more, and she couldn’t believe this was true, she was comfortable with him. She feltsafewith Peter.
