Flame Series #18: Physician Heal Thy Self

CHAPTER 11

Tween

It was never a secret when Calleigh O'Brian entered a room. She was like a source of energy. That's why Kitty was so startled to find her oldest child standing quietly in the threshold of the kitchen. Uttering a small gasp, she pressed her hand to her chest and leaned back against the stove.

"Calleigh Reign! You scared me half to death." Kitty was about to enjoy a relaxing breath, when she realized Calleigh still hadn't moved, or spoken a word. "What's wrong?"

There was no grin; no laughing eyes, just the solemn face of a worried young woman. She took a step into the room, then stopped, uttering a single, "Tween?"

Kitty tilted her head to one side, letting the memory rush over her. When Calleigh was young, sometimes she would have things she would only share with her mother. Kitty had to promise to not even tell Matt. Over the course of time, just between you and me, was condensed to 'tween'. As a young girl, those confessions were not usually life-shattering, but something told Kitty, this one was serious. "Tween," she agreed. "Why don't you sit down? I'll pour us some coffee."

Calleigh took a seat, in her father's chair, at the head of the table. She offered a smile as a thank you for the coffee. "Something is wrong with Poppy."

Kitty eased down into a chair. "Wrong? You mean, sick? Is he sick, Calleigh?"

Calleigh pulled away from the demanding sapphire eyes, seeking refuge in the steaming liquid. "He's showing symptoms of… what could be serious."

Kitty knew she had to ask, but the word stuck in her mouth, like something rotten that had attached itself to her tongue. "Is it…is it, terminal?"

"That's the problem. I don't know what IT is. We keep testing things and still have no answers." It was hard to tell which was more pathetic—her limp smile, or feeble voice. "He thinks its Parkinson's, but that doesn't make sense. The symptoms came on too suddenly and are too advanced."

"Then he really did mix the wrong ingredients in the headache powder?" Kitty leaned back in the sturdy oak chair. "How is Doc taking this?"

"He's trying to act as grumpy and obnoxious as usual, but he's scared. I can see it in his eyes." Calleigh got up and walked over to the stove. She returned with the pot, refilling both cups. "Momma, I work side-by-side with this man every day. I should have seen something."

The two women sat in a painful silence, both of them fighting to keep the devastation of time, or nature, from ravaging their world.

"What if it's not an illness?" Kitty immediately got the attention of the young doctor. "I know I'm not a doctor, but what if he's allergic to something?"

"Allergic?" Calleigh delicate features drew into a curious pout.

Kitty suddenly felt foolish. If it were that simple, one of the doctors would have thought of it. "Never mind, that's silly. I don't why I-"

Calleigh reached across the table, taking her mother's hands into her own. "NO! NO—that would make sense. Allergic reactions would show up immediately. The problem now would be, is it something recently introduced to his system, or something he has developed a reaction to over time?" Calleigh gave her mother a hopeful smile. "At least it gives us something to hope for."

"While we're sharing secrets, I have to ask you something. Yesterday, I had lunch with Phoebe. Did you tell her about me losing our baby in Boston? She seemed to know all about it, including Mavis."

Again, those blue eyes flew open wide. "No! I would never share something as private as that with a stranger." Calleigh's gaze softened, as she reached over taking her mother's hand again. "I'm so sorry she brought that up. It must have really caught you off guard." The silence that fell between them this time, was a consoling one.

"How do you suppose she knew about it?"

"I don't know. Maybe I can get some answers tonight. Darcy wants to go to the Long Branch. He's heard all about it and wants the experience." Calleigh made a smug face. "I'd like to give him an experience."

LongBranchLongBranchLongBranch

Darcy pushed through the batwing doors, eager to get his first sight of the Long Branch. Phoebe followed close behind her husband. She knew the source of his excitement was not the lively reputation of the saloon. Darcy wanted to see where his uncle had been shot and left to bleed to death.

Newly held the door for his lady to enter the Long Branch. For him, it brought back memories. For his wife, it was just missed moments. But, the past didn't matter, because the O'Brian's were enjoying a night out tonight. Newly had started for the usual table, when Calleigh lightly tugged on his sleeve. Without a word, Newly clearly understood that she didn't want these people sitting at her parents' table.

"How about here?" The deputy ushered everyone to a back table. "It's a safer place to watch from." After seating his wife, he waited to make sure that Darcy was paying enough attention to Phoebe to seat her like a lady.

It was close, as the visiting doctor's attention was definitely consumed by his surroundings, but he did remember to assist his wife. "So, this is the Long Branch. It's got quite a reputation."

Newly offered the polite smile of a host. "It's got quite a history. Some good…some bad. Excuse me while I get us some drinks." He was barely on his feet, when Darcy popped up.

"I'll go with you." Without even turning to look at her, Darcy questioned his wife. "Phoebe, do you want a bourbon?"

Phoebe's eyes darted from her husband, to the couple across from her. She could interpret the wink between the deputy and his wife. He had no need to ask such a question. Phoebe doubted if the man with the loving brown eyes had to ask any questions at all pertaining to the petite redhead. They had undoubtedly discovered all there was to know about each other. "I don't care for bourbon, Darcy." He was too caught up in his own excitement, to catch the resentment in her tone. "A glass of Port will be fine."

The two women watched their men disappear toward the bar. Phoebe's gaze wandered up the stairs to the rooms above them. "It must have been exciting, growing up in a saloon." Strangely enough, there wasn't any stigma attached to her comment.

"We did live upstairs for a while, but I was never allowed down here in the evenings. While my parents worked, I stayed with Poppy. Then we moved into the LadyK when I was fifteen."

"How very odd that your mother made her living by… working… in a saloon; but you weren't even allowed to go into one?" This time the words, and their meaning, were clearly judgmental. Phoebe had actually been very impressed by Kitty Dillon, but she was becoming terribly jealous of her daughter. Calleigh's devotion to her mother was obvious, right from the start and maybe that was Phoebe's way of cutting into the young woman's perfect world.

Calleigh bristled at the insinuation that her mother was anything other than a lady. Blue eyes narrowed, as she slowly turned her head, toward her guest. The thought ran through her mind that she didn't need a gun to take on this piece of scrawny, New York trash. Just as her mouth was ready to express such thoughts, she felt Newly's powerful fingers, gently squeeze her shoulder.

"Pete is going to bring the drinks to the table." He managed to corral those blue eyes, long enough to calm the redhead down. "Well, you've been in Dodge for over a week now. What do you think of it?"

"It's more civilized out here than I had been led to believe." Darcy's gaze seemed to dart constantly about the room, as if he was going to miss something. Obviously, he didn't see that the real danger in the room,, was brewing right at his own table.

Newly had managed to quiet his little woman but he still tried to steer the conversation away from her. "Who has been telling you about us? Do you have relatives out West?"

"No, I just meant, from what I've read and people I've met who have been here." Darcy reached for the whiskey, as Pete placed the tray down on the table. "Will it get pretty rowdy tonight?"

Calleigh polished off the mug of beer and whisked away the traces of foam with the back of her hand. "It might!"

She felt those familiar fingers squeeze her knee, pressing it against his own. With a deep breath and a forced smile, Calleigh started again. "The C-BarX crew just got in last night, so the drovers will probably be here later."

The tension between the two women eased up a little after Calleigh's second beer. Newly stretched one long arm behind her tenderly massaging the tense muscles in her back. "Are you comfortable enough at the Dodge House?" It was the start to a series of innocuous questions and answers, that eventually led to a more comfortable conversation.

Just as Calleigh had predicted, the Long Branch began to fill up with people and noise. It came alive with talk, laughter, some shoving and a few arguments. Darcy peered through the smoky haze, looking back into the past. Even in the dimly lit bar, the flecks of gold shone from his eyes, as he imagined that night.

Darcy did love his Pa, but he had a child-like hero worship for his Uncle Trip. The older Singer brother was the black sheep of the family. Farming was never going to be his fate in life, as long as there were places to be robbed, or people to be bushwhacked. On those rare occasions when he came to visit, he would fill his nephew's head with colorful tales of being a highwayman.

The stories were exciting, but the thing that truly impressed Darcy, was the special attention and pride his uncle always showed him. While everyone else fawned over his sickly little brother, Robbie, Trip seemed to be repulsed by the boy.

Darcy was not surprised when Trip offered to pay his way through medical school. The two shared a unique bond—a pact between two black hearts. But, that kinship came to an end, when Dr. Adams chose to save the pretty woman and let Trip Singer bleed to death on the floor of the Long Branch.

DoubleODoubleODoubleODoubleO

For the umpteenth time, Newly cast a sly glance at the young woman riding next to him. He had overheard Phoebe's nasty remark about Kitty, in time to intercept Calleigh's wrath. Despite his wife's casual conversation for the duration of the evening, the deputy knew she was seething underneath. Not being much of a drinker, the four beers went a long way toward keep her calm.

When they reached the Double O, Newly stopped the buggy. He was about to come around to help his wife, when she jumped out and ran into the house. A low whistle, was accented by arched brows and a prayer for his wife.

Tonight, Newly took his time putting away the buggy and untacking the horse. Not that he was dreading the coming storm. On the contrary, a loving smile warmed his lips, as he envisioned the typical scenario. She would rant and pace and cast threats and aspirations on the rather pale woman from New York. Meanwhile, he would wait patiently, offering soothing words when the opportunity allowed. Finally, she would settle down in his arms, wanting to make love to him for always being so understanding.

Strangely enough, he did not consider this behavior a fault. Newly loved her passion, her zest for life, for new experiences and mostly, her vehement devotion to those she loved. It was this last part that was causing him concern tonight.

Granted, Calleigh was upset over Phoebe's comment, but her real concern lay with Poppy. Newly couldn't ignore the fact that his wife was taking all the rounds and even helping out at the clinic. He feared that something was wrong with the old physician. And it must be something serious, if Calleigh wouldn't share her fears with her husband.

He trudged lovingly up the stairs and took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door.

Newly stood in the threshold of the open door, his hand still on the handle, as he tried to comprehend the vision in front of him. This was not what he was expecting. Calleigh sat on the edge of the bed—crying.

"Calleigh?" Newly rushed into the room, quickly taking a seat beside her and pulling her into his arms. "Baby what's the matter?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as the tears flowed hard and heavy.

Newly rocked her gently, from side-to-side. Her personality was so irrepressible and boisterous, that he sometimes forgot how tiny she was. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

She sniffled back a series of tiny gasps. "I love you, Newly O'Brian."

"I know you do, sweetheart." He brushed the wayward curls from her cheek and forehead. "This is more than just being upset with Phoebe Cannon, isn't it?"

"Poppy's sick." She blurted out in a fresh stream of tears. "I don't know how to help him."

Nothing else was said for a long while. Newly held her while she cried, allowing her to release some of the pain. Finally, she was calm enough to relay the events of the past week and all the tests and exams they had performed. "Kitty brought up the possibility of an allergic reaction."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Poppy is already feeling incompetent. Especially after that mix-up with Kitty. Now, he says he should be put out to pasture, that he can't be trusted. That's why I'm making him work at the clinic in town. He can't just give up, Newly. I know I should have told you; I just didn't want anyone to know." Calleigh's blue eyes rose slowly to meet his.

Except Kitty, he thought. "It's okay. I know you two can't keep secrets from each other. Why do you sound so defeated? An allergic reaction is possible, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's just that there are so many things that could cause it. I don't know where to start." The bubbly spirit had been dampened. "What if that's not the answer either?"

"But what if it is?" Newly turned her around, forcing her to face him. "Tomorrow…you and I will start to work on this theory. You'll be much more optimistic when you're not quite so drunk, or angry, at a certain visiting woman."

"Maybe a little drunk." She conceded with a smile. "You know, Phoebe Cannon didn't say those things about Kitty because she doesn't like her. She said it to make me mad, because she doesn't like me." Calleigh accepted the kerchief Newly had handed her. "She watches me all the time. I can feel those pale, pathetic eyes on me."

"Why would she not like you?" His wife had thrown a twist in the works and Newly wasn't sure how to respond.

Calleigh wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "Phoebe Cannon is so jealous of you, she is about to explode."

"Me?" Newly was truly lost at this point. "Are you trying to tell me Phoebe has a thing for me?"

Finally, the infamous grin reappeared. She leaned in, kissing his cheek. "Not you, exactly. She's jealous of the way you treat me. Darcy is oblivious to her. You…are a doting husband."

Newly smiled, inviting her to bask in his compassionate brown eyes. "How about we get into bed and you let me dote on you some more?"

===()()()===

Calleigh snuggled closer into Newly's strong arms, which was her favorite place. He spooned himself around her and kissed her temple. "Feeling better?"

"Uh-huh. I always feel better after we make love." She giggled softly, "I still feel a little woozy. It's kind of fun. No wonder Louie likes it so much. Newly, why do you put up with all the craziness?"

"Because, I want to be with someone that loves me, as much as I love her. It was just the luck of the draw that she happened to be crazy. Are you still angry with Phoebe?"

Calleigh mustered up a weary sigh. "No, but I really don't think I like her. I know I don't like him. I'll be glad when they move on."

"Why are they hanging around, anyway?"

"I don't really know. Darcy is…" a giant yawn interrupted her words. "…fascinated with Poppy."

"Do you think maybe he could help?"

Calleigh yawned again and snuggled in closer. "Maybe Poppy is allergic to him."

DodgeHousDodgeHouseDodgeHouse

Darcy leaned back against the walnut headboard, weaving his fingers together behind his head. He kicked at his shoes, knocking them to the floor. Uttering a relaxing breath, he wiggled his linen-clad toes. His satisfied smile was definitely compliments of too many shots of Makers Mark. It was rare that the proper physician imbibed in alcohol, but this was a special occasion.

Finally visiting the spot where his revered uncle was shot down, brought him that much closer to his ultimate goal. It was a twisted sort of celebration. "It's a nicer bar than I had always imagined." Darcy's words were met with silence. He glanced back toward the window overlooking the street. Phoebe stood, silently staring out into the darkness. "Phoebe? Did you hear me? Phoebe!"

She turned quickly, as if startled from a dream. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The bourbon spawned an uncharacteristic spurt of laughter. "Tonight was wonderful. We are so close to the end. Aren't you excited?"

"Of course." She wondered if it would be possible to convince him to make an adjustment to his plan while he was in this inebriated state. Phoebe stared at her husband, so lost in his own joy he barely knew she was in the room.

These past few years, she had been able to convince herself that once Darcy finally secured his revenge, he could release the hate and be free to love her; and the truth was, the closer he came to reaching his goal, the more enthusiastic a lover he became. Sadly, enthusiastic was not the same as passionate.

She wandered back to the window. Room Twelve, did have an excellent view of Front Street. From here, she could see a couple of cowboys staggering out of the Long Branch. The taller of the two offered a hand to steady his friend, which would have been funny—since both were weaving, wobbling and tripping over their own feet—but Phoebe was not in a mood to appreciate the humor.

For more than a week now, Phoebe had been forced to witness the relationship between Calleigh O'Brian and her husband. At first, she found the couple fascinating. She was even hopeful, that one day she could share a similar marriage with Darcy. But that was not going to happen. Fascination had turned to envy and envy to hate. The way Newly hung on Calleigh's every word. His constantly looking at her, as though she were the most precious thing on earth. Most of all, Phoebe could not forget listening to them making love that night at the inn: the most beautiful, erotic sounds, each striving to please the other. The hapless young wife knew that she would never experience such passion.

However, Phoebe did know what Darcy was capable of. Why shouldn't she use his particular skills for something she wanted for a change? Once again, she walked back over to the bed. She sat down on the edge and smiled at the tipsy young man. "Darcy, I've been thinking. If you really want to hurt Dr. Adams the way he hurt you, there is another way."

Hazel eyes peered from under a pair of long, thick lashes."There is?" Even in his impaired state, she had managed to arouse his curiosity. He released his hands from behind his head and pulled himself up higher on the bed. "What would that be?"

"He took someone from you, someone that you loved very much." She paused just long enough for him to grasp her words. "What if you took someone he loved? He loves his granddaughter just like you loved your uncle."

"His granddaughter..." Darcy struggled to regain some sobriety in order to ponder this idea.

"It would destroy him completely, if he thought he was responsible for her death." Phoebe could feel her heart pound against her ribs. For the first time, she understood how exhilarating it was to play God. This must be what it was like for Darcy. Her lungs refused to take in a single breath, as she watched him mull this suggestion over in his mind.

The smile began gradually, but kept growing until it dominated his face. "Phoebe, you are wonderful. I should have thought of that myself. It would be even better than killing him." It would have been an opportune time to kiss his wife, but once again, he was too engrossed in his new plan.

TBC