~.~
X.O.X
Monday, 24th May, 1869
One Day Later
X.O.X
~.~
"Ma?" Brian appeared from behind the curtain, still in his nightgown, a dismayed expression crossing his face.
"She's just outside, Brian," Colleen frowned, seeing the worry sweep over him as he scanned the homestead in vain.
"Best get ready for school," Colleen suggested, her words falling on deaf ears as her younger brother ran towards the back door.
"Ma!" Brian raced across the yard, oblivious to the coldness of the ground as he approached Michaela's side, she and Matthew preparing the wagon.
"Morning, sweetheart, sleep well?" Michaela bent down to hug him tightly, Matthew running his eyes up and down the boy, surprised that he wasn't dressed yet.
"Fine," Brian clung awkwardly to her side, Michaela noticing and bending down to his level.
"Good. Go dress for school, or we'll be late," Michaela ruffled his hair, expecting the boy to turn and comply with her request without delay. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't move, looking away miserably.
"Ma, do I gotta go to school today?" Brian surveyed the small rocks and branches on the floor around him before looking up nervously.
"Have to go to school," Michaela corrected automatically before continuing, "Now Brian, you heard what the Reverend said. Those boys won't be teasing you anymore," Michaela consoled, stroking several strands of his hair neatly back over his head.
"But I ain't feelin' well. Might be catchin'," Brian brought a hand delicately to his stomach, looking between Matthew's skeptical shrug and his mother's instant concern.
"Brian, are you sure you're not just worried about the boys at school?" Michaela routinely felt his forehead and glands.
"No, Ma, honest. Think I'm gettin' sick." He hung his head, Matthew turning to continue reining the horses, not buying Brian's act for a moment.
"Well, if you're sure it's not because of those boys, you can stay at the Clinic with me, today but you are staying in bed," Michaela gave in reluctantly; sure that Brian merely feared any teasing, however aware that he felt particularly vulnerable these last few days.
"Thanks, Ma," Brian quickly brought his hand back to his stomach, as if to reinstate how 'ill' he felt.
"We're leaving in twenty minutes," Michaela shook her head as he miraculously seemed to recover for the satisfied skip back inside.
"You're too soft on him, Dr Mike. Ain't nothin' wrong with him," Matthew observed, having witnessed Brian's instantaneous mood-swing.
"I know, he's just worried about going back to school. It won't last. Once he realizes that being ill means spending the day in bed, he'll be back to school first thing tomorrow," Michaela smiled, having finished loading various items into the wagon and heading back towards the homestead to assist Colleen with the breakfast dishes.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"So, today's the big day, then?" Loren seated himself comfortably in the red velvet chair, Jake lathering some soap on the small brush and applying it to Loren's chin and neck.
"Well if what Dorothy's sayin' is true it sure looks that way. Don't think it's gonna go too well, from what my customers been sayin'," Jake reached across for the razor blade, leaning back over Loren cautiously.
"Mine too. People been sayin' they'd rather go see you than have Dr Mike lay a finger on 'em. Not so much the women but the men, ya know," Loren tried to soften his statement, remaining still as Jake brought the razor along his neck.
"Yeah, suppose I can understand and all. Just seems such a shame. All the work she put into gettin' people's trust and acceptance. Weren't even her fault. 'Sides, she's a good doctor," Jake reflected, Loren waiting until the barber turned to rinse off the razor before replying.
"Maybe doesn't have to be for nothin'.I'm sure if a few of the more influential men of this town got together, sure we could set an example, like Dorothy said." Loren mused, Jake once again returning the razor to his neck.
"What, you mean like you and me, go see her?" Jake frowned, although the idea continued to fester in his mind.
"Well, obviously not all at once or nothin', just ya know. My back's been a bit sore for a few weeks now. Wouldn't do no harm to stop by later on today." Loren sighed, somewhat hesitantly, however realizing there was some truth to Dorothy's statement. And after all, Loren Bray felt he carried substantial weight in the small town; people would take their lead from him.
Jake finished Loren's shave, immersing the sharp razor into the nearby bowl of alcohol.
"I ain't got no complaints, though, why should I go see her?" Jake removed the cape from around Loren's neck, the elderly man handing him the two bits and rising to his feet, a hand stroking his chin, pleased with his shave.
"Coz it'd show people even respectable men like us don't have no problem with her. 'Sides I gotta do something to get Olive and Dorothy off my back," Loren patted Jake's shoulder in gratitude, the younger man considering his words as Horace entered the shop, taking a seat in front of him.
"Just when you thinkin' a stoppin' by, Loren?" Jake looked up as the store owner stepped into the doorway.
"After lunch, most like. Remember, we gotta set an example," Loren nodded with great dignity, Horace looking up with confusion at Jake as the cape was draped around his neck.
"What's this about settin' an example?" Horace inquired, relaxing back into the chair.
"Ah, Loren's got it into his head we oughta be listenin' to what Dorothy said yesterday," Jake replied, still not entirely convinced, however proceeding to relay the conversation to the telegraph operator as he commenced the shave.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"I really gotta stay in bed all day, Ma?" Brian whined, as the pair stepped into the Clinic, Michaela quickly directing the young boy upstairs as Matthew brought in several boxes of medical supplies from the wagon.
"Have to stay in bed, Brian, and yes, if you're sick, you'll stay in bed. Otherwise, the schoolhouse is just down that way," Michaela smiled tantalizingly, her hand gesturing towards the window facing the main street.
"All right. Hey Ma, think Sully'll take us swimmin' again next weekend?" Brian, who had turned towards the corridor, saw the opportunity for conversation and edged back across the room to Michaela's side.
"That, is up to Sully. Now up to bed, young man." Michaela rolled her eyes, Brian's manipulative skills having increased the past several days.
"But, you'll come read me a story later, won't ya?" Brian lowered his head, arriving at the corridor to hang his arms on the doorframe playfully.
"Possibly," Michaela smiled secretively, Brian scurrying off upstairs immediately.
"That's everything, Dr Mike. Now I'll be at Olive's until about three, but you need anything, just have someone come fetch me," Matthew hung awkwardly in the doorway, glancing around the room slowly as he began to remember the time he'd spent pacing around the porch the week before.
"Matthew, everything is going to be fine," Michaela dismissed his concern, beginning to remove bandages and other freshly laundered linen from the boxes on the examination table in front of her.
Matthew nodded, his eyes moving from Michaela's competent exterior to the examination table she was working over, the young man unable to disregard the images flooding into his head concerning recent events. His eyes remaining focused on the examination table only ten feet away, Matthew could still see the silhouettes of his sister, Dorothy and Olive huddled around it. He could still see all the blood. Turning, as if to push the recollection back farther into his memory, Matthew strode towards the wagon, Michaela watching him depart without another word.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Mornin' there, Horace. My, you certainly look like you're enjoyin' that," Robert E. approached the tall, dark haired man from behind, watching intrigued as he scoffed down mouthful after mouthful of pie, unaware of the Blacksmith's presence.
"Horace? Horace!" Robert E. chuckled, eventually tapping Horace on the shoulder to obtain his attention.
"Ah, oh, sorry about that. Really works though," Horace pulled the small piece of cotton wool from his left ear with a smile.
"What really works? Hey, what's that?" Robert E. took a seat on his right, Grace approaching the pair, kissing Robert E. on the cheek as she filled two cups with coffee, before bustling off to attend to morning tea orders.
"Oh, cotton wool. See if I stick some in my left ear, like that, I, I can't hear outa it," Horace smiled, breaking off the piece of cotton wool and pushing it back into his ear.
"Horace, I, ah, I know I ain't the smartest man in town but ah, why'd you wanna go stickin' something like that in ya ear?" Robert E. watched as Horace returned his attention to finishing the piece of pie in front of him.
"Coza what Jake told me this mornin'," Horace looked around suspiciously, gesturing for Robert E. to lean closer towards him.
"Said we gotta make Dr Mike feel needed 'round here. Said if couple of the more important men 'round town go to see her, will let everyone know we're standing by her comin' back to work an' all," Horace sipped on his coffee, Robert E. shaking his head in bewilderment.
"Why of all the, so you're tellin' me that's why you're walkin' 'round with this stuff stuck in ya ear?" He raised an eyebrow, Horace nodding quickly.
"Am just about to go see her, right. Wanted to see if it worked. Does too, can't hear nothin' outa that side," Horace reached into his pocket, placing the money on the table in payment, before getting to his feet and making his way uneasily down the alleyway.
"Well, I never, of all the far-fetched, under-handed, scheming," Robert E. muttered to himself, trailing off as he looked down at his right hand lying on the table in front of him, his fingers flexing in and out slowly.
"S'ppose it is gettin' a little sore." He rubbed his stiff knuckles with his left hand, a soft smile broadening on his lips as he looked between his hand and Horace's departing form.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Have you been removing any excess wax periodically, Horace?" Michaela sat him on the edge of the examination table, pacing across the room to carry her medical bag from the desk to the side of the bed.
"Ah, yes, Dr Mike, sure have. Ya see, I, I think that's what mighta happened. Was cleaning them last night. Think I mighta got a piece of cotton wool stuck in there or somethin'," Horace adjusted his weight on the edge of the table nervously, deception never being something he felt comfortable with, however, if it was for the best.
"Now, just hold still," Michaela located the tweezers after a moment, inserting them carefully into his left ear, remaining silent for several moments whilst she searched for any foreign objects.
"See anything?" Horace replied, somewhat loudly, as the cotton wool he'd poked in there back in the cafe, really was blocking the hearing in his left ear.
"Just a, ah, you were right, Horace," Michaela responded triumphantly several moments later, displaying the tiny piece of compressed cotton wool on the edge of the tweezers.
"Aw, thank-you, Dr Mike. That's much better," Horace smiled knowingly, Michaela looking strangely between the minute ball of white packing and Horace's ear.
"You're very welcome, Horace, just, ah, be careful next time and I'd suggest not using the cotton wool," Michaela discarded the small material, dropping the tweezers into a bowl of alcohol on the bench.
"Oh, no, you said it, Dr Mike. No more cotton wool, that's for sure," Horace chuckled uncomfortably, handing her the money in payment, Michaela showing him to the door.
"Glad I could help," Michaela smiled, watching with contentment as the telegraph operator stepped from the porch of the Clinic, ambling back down the street towards his office.
Michaela, closing the door after him, couldn't deny the satisfied smile crossing her lips, worried people around town would be avoiding her all day. Her mind was eventually pulled from daydream, sighing as she went upstairs to check on Brian.
Arriving in the doorway of the recovery room, Michaela raised an eyebrow in amusement as she noticed the bed sheet tied precariously to each end of the bed, Brian's head moving along underneath as he crawled up and down underneath the white sheet.
"And just what is all this?" Michaela chuckled, although knowing she should be chastising the boy for playing when he was supposedly ill.
"Made my own secret hideout. It's a cave, like what Sully showed me," Michaela watched with intrigue as Brian crawled to the edge of the mattress, his head eventually poking out under the sheet.
"Ah, well, as exciting as it looks, I don't think all that rolling around is going to be too beneficial to that stomach ache of yours." Michaela, her hands grasped behind her back, arrived at the end of the bed, beginning to untie the knotted corners of the sheet.
"I guess not." Brian looked away from her, settling himself back against the pillows at the head of the bed, Michaela tucking the sheet back into the mattress around him.
"I was just about to go get us some lunch from Grace's. That is, if you're not feeling too ill to eat?" Michaela questioned, her mouth upturned with slight sarcasm.
"No, been feelin' a little better. Ma, maybe some food'll help build my strength up, though?" Brian tilted his head, Michaela ruffling his hair affectionately as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Well, all right then, you just stay in bed, I won't be long," Michaela squeezed his hand, getting to her feet and heading back down the stairs.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Here, Dr Mike, I can take that," Robert E. stepped on the porch, noticing Michaela leaving through the Clinic door, an empty basket from Grace's balanced in her left hand.
"Thank-you Robert E., if you're sure it's no trouble?" Michaela handed him the brown basket, the Blacksmith nodding hesitantly as he looked back down at his hand again.
"Oh no, no trouble at all. I, ah, was just coming to see you actually. My hand been startin' to hurt again lately." He rested the basket on the bench nearby, Michaela ushering him inside immediately.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Afternoon, ah, Hank," Loren looked up from his position, sitting on the middle of the bench outside the Clinic, as the bartender crossed the remainder of the road, cigar held habitually in his right hand.
"Can't say I expected to see anyone 'round here for awhile, not from what folk's been sayin' in my place," Hank looked between the Clinic door and Loren's slightly uncomfortable expression.
"Well maybe folk's are in need of a little persuasion. After all, no reason we gotta lose a perfectly good doctor," Loren, although initially confident in his decision to take Dorothy's advice and set a good example, was now beginning to feel a little apprehensive.
"Can't be serious, Loren. You really gonna let her examine you?" Hank threw his cigar across into the nearby trough, flashing his friend a meaningful glare on his final two words.
"Well, just had a bit of a sore back, recently. Ain't no exam needed, just get something for the pain, that'll be that." The store manager reassured himself, setting his jaw firm.
"That's what you think. Get you in there a minute, she'll be wantin' to poke and prod you, no thanks," Hank rested against the nearby post, shaking his head distastefully.
"Well, then that's my problem, ain't it? People start avoidin' seein' her just coza what's happened, we won't have no doc, and that'll be bad for business, won't it? For everybody." Loren eyed Hank up deliberately, looking from the Saloon back to the bartender, Hank remaining thoughtful.
"Yeah. Guess it's handy havin' her 'round for the girls and all. Customer's been happier since she's been takin' care of 'em, girl's been happier too, come to think of it." Hank stroked his small beard, reflecting on his words.
"Good for business all round, in my mind. 'Sides, people 'round here see the likes of prominent men like us ain't got no problem, sure will make things a lot easier." Loren appealed to Hank's sense of status, since his sense of decency had most definitely taken a vacation these last few weeks.
"Well, you put it like that," Hank cleared his throat, taking a seat next to Loren as the door opened beside them.
"Thanks for that, Dr Mike, 'ppreciate it," Robert E. tipped his cap, smiling as he slipped the small bottle of medicine into his pocket.
"You just take it easy the rest of the day. Come and see me again if the swelling doesn't abate within two days." Michaela squeezed his arm warmly, looking over his shoulder at the two men resting uneasily on the bench nearby.
"Will do, Dr Mike. Thanks again," Robert E. nodded in gratitude, retrieving the basket from beside Loren and making his way back to Grace's.
"Loren, Hank, were you?" Michaela frowned slightly, surprised at how inundated with patients she'd been over the last few hours.
"Ah yes, Dr Mike," Loren replied quickly, however too nervous to get to his feet.
"Well, who was next?" Michaela replied, looking between Hank's amused expression, the bartender quickly dropping his smile and feigning mild abdominal discomfort when he became aware of her glance.
"Loren was, weren't ya," Hank patted the older man on the back, giving him no choice but to stand and follow Michaela inside.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Sure looks like you've been keepin' busy today, Dr Mike," Loren observed, whilst Michaela searched through the medicine cabinet across the room for the required herbal tea.
"Yes, I was a little surprised but then, I suppose after a week, there would be a few more people than usual with assorted complaints," Michaela ran her fingertips over several paper envelopes, eventually locating the one she was after.
"Guess that must be it, then," Loren muttered, trying to sound genuine as he slipped his jacket back on, feeling thoroughly exposed and uncomfortable.
"Now just stir a teaspoon into a cup of boiled water, to make a tea. Try and drink at least three to four cups a day. The pain should subside within a week." Michaela handed Loren the small paper sachet, helping him off of the edge of the table.
"Right, ah, thank-you, Dr Mike," Loren quickly retrieved the dollar coin from his back pocket, just wanting to get back to the store, although unable to shake the sense of honor, knowing that he'd done the right thing in supporting her.
"Anytime. Loren!" Michaela reached quickly for his arm, noticing the unguarded way in which he turned around.
"Oh, ah, awww.." The gray-haired man quickly realized he'd turned too rapidly given the supposed severity of his back pain and compensated instantly, reaching awkwardly to rest his right hand on his hip.
"Everything all right, Loren?" Michaela frowned worriedly, however slightly suspicious of the convenience of the immediate return of his discomfort.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Best be gettin' back to the store," he groused, dismissing her concern.
"No lifting or anything strenuous until the pain ceases, Loren," Michaela reiterated, opening the door as they made their way out onto the porch, Hank startling slightly.
"Next," Michaela clasped her hands together, ever so slightly wary of Hank's presence.
"Ah, Michaela, been havin' a bit of a pain," Hank stumbled inside somewhat dramatically as Loren hobbled back towards the store, Michaela closing the Clinic door turning to observe her latest 'patient'.
"Where abouts?" She waited until Hank had settled himself on the examination table gingerly, before stepping closer towards him, watching as he indicated to the middle of his torso vaguely.
"'Round here, think it's something I ate," Hank swallowed, preparing to gasp in exasperated agony when she gently began palpating his stomach.
"So here?" Michaela looked competently from his stomach region to his anguished expression, moving her hands either side, checking his liver, spleen and appendix.
"Yeah, ah, thing is. Got hungry late last night. I know you said I shouldn't, but was eatin' some a that meat again, only a small bit mind," Hank composed himself, Michaela nodding in receipt of his words.
"So, you think it might be food poisoning?" She returned her hands to his abdomen and pressed lightly.
"Yeah," he replied, not reacting when she pressed slightly harder against the middle of his stomach.
"When, ah did you eat this?" Michaela sighed, having caught on to Hank's bogus performance. She ran her hands slightly lower, palpating his left side, waiting for a response.
"Ah, bit last night, bit this morn- ah!" He quickly cried out, realizing he hadn't shown any verbal distress in several minutes.
"So, you think it's definitely the meat, then?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, skeptically.
"Has to be, can't see what else, ah," Hank groaned again, Michaela removing her hands, getting him to sit up.
"Hank, is this some sort of joke?" She queried, crossing her arms confrontationally.
"Joke? Michaela, I," she cut him off sharply.
"You said the pain was in your stomach, then it wasn't, then you indicated the pain was in your appendix," Michaela justified her skepticism, fighting the temptation to smile as Hank attempted to recover lost ground.
"Well, ah, it is, it is in my stomach." He rested a hand with all sincerity over the right side of his torso.
"That's your liver, Hank." Michaela took a step backwards, watching as the bartender struggled in vain to maintain the performance.
"Oh I, ah see, well maybe my stomach ain't where it is on most people." He looked around the room, feeling thoroughly humiliated, however doing whatever he could in a frenzied attempt to save face.
"Get out of here, Hank," Michaela sighed, gesturing towards the door, her expression mixed between wanting to burst out laughing and suspicion regarding the motivation behind his little routine.
Hank slipped from the edge of the table, having no choice but to saunter from the room, his gaze downcast in embarrassment.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Come in?" Michaela looked up from the medical journal she was trying to concentrate on, hearing the bell to her left quickly drawing her attention.
"Ah, 'octor 'ike… ith my, my tooff… 'een 'urtin' bad 'ince 'out 'ine in the 'ornin'," Jake stepped into the room, his right hand clutched protectively over the right side of his jaw.
Michaela, pausing to consider the extreme jump in patients for one day, got to her feet, approaching Jake with great compassion and sympathy, as she motioned for him to lie down on the examination table.
"This side, Jake?" Michaela positioned herself over Jake's head, thoroughly inspecting the right side of his mouth, deciding she would keep up the pretense as long as he could.
"'eah, the 'eft thide," Jake removed his hand, opening his mouth wider, as Michaela quickly reached for a probe, inserted it into his mouth and tapped it lightly against each tooth in turn.
"'at one," he quickly deduced, Michaela nodding, impressed at his resolve.
"Yes, I can see exactly what the problem is there, Jake," Michaela turned, unable to withhold the small smile momentarily crossing her face as she opened the chest of surgical instruments, quickly locating the dental forceps.
Returning to his side, Jake squirmed slightly, before feeling the coolness of the metallic instrument against the inside of his cheek, this proving enough to cause substantial objection.
"What are you?" He pulled away slightly, horror filling his eyes.
"Afraid there's nothing I can do, Jake. The tooth needs to be extracted. Now hold still. It won't hurt that much. Trust me," Michaela was unable to prevent the sparkle coming to her eyes, Jake now locked between honesty and the prospect of torturous pain.
"You sure you really need to pull it? Thought you'd just give me something for the pain." Jake spoke quickly, unaware he'd dropped his garbled accent as the sweat began to form around his forehead.
"It's too late for that, just lay still," Michaela continued, resting a hand on his shoulder to steady him as she once again inserted the instrument into his mouth, locking it carefully around the aforementioned tooth.
Waiting several moments as Jake's panic grew, Michaela watched as he eventually closed his eyes, giving in to his self-determined fate. Allowing the smile to once again appear on her face, Michaela removed the metal forceps, standing over him, as he very hesitantly opened his eyes, looking at her in complete disbelief.
"You didn't?" He studied her face carefully, noticing the amused smirk on her lips.
"Come on, I think we both know there's nothing wrong with your tooth, don't we?" Michaela watched as Jake pulled himself into a sitting position, wiping the sweat from his face, humiliation giving into relief as he continued to stare at her awkwardly.
"But I don't understand. How did you know?" He moved his jaw several times, running his tongue along the nearly-sacrificed tooth in reassurance.
"Because, there wasn't anything wrong with my tooth, neither," Michaela raised her eyebrows, Jake taking several seconds to compute all the information and sequence of events he's just been put through.
"You mean you let me pull a perfectly good tooth outa your head, just so's I'd let you treat my hand?" He calculated slowly, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"It worked, didn't it," she gestured to their surroundings.
"I'll say. I'm sorry, Dr Mike. We were just tryin' to make you feel like we needed ya," Jake hung his head reflecting over the events of the past few years.
"We?" Michaela let her mouth drop slightly, her suspicions regarding the validity of Horace, Loren and Hank's complaints being confirmed.
"Me and Loren and Horace. Thought it'd make things easier for ya, if ya knew we still wanted ya 'round town like, so ya know everyone still needs ya," Jake looked away, the genuineness and compassion in his voice something Michaela wasn't sure she'd ever heard before.
"I appreciate your efforts Jake but, you mean, all this was just," Michaela reflected over the stream of patients she'd seen this morning, remembering the ball of cotton wool lodged in Horace's ear.
"Please don't be mad, Dr Mike. No-one meant any harm. We were just tryin' to show we don't care 'bout," Jake returned his gaze downwards once again, trying to pass over the traumatic memories of her rescue invading his mind.
Michaela stood perfectly still, watching as Jake sat looking more uncomfortable than she did. Nodding slowly, she remained silent, surprised that she wasn't feeling angered by the humiliation or deceit.
"I, ah, won't take up any more of your time," Jake lowered his feet to the ground, departing from the Clinic in utter silence, not so sure that Loren's plan had been that great an idea after all.