“Well, that’s the last one,” Nicholas proclaimed as Mrs. Talbot stepped out onto the walkway. “Would you like to come on back now.” Hope gestured at the old woman, too caught up in her work to notice. Doc mouthed back, “She can wait.”
Deciding he knew best, Hope rose and followed him to the back room. “This is where the excitement happens,” he said, gesturing at the patient table and the cabinets full of supplies. “I can do all sorts of procedures here.”
“I’ll say,” Hope replied. “I’ve seen you work plenty of miracles this morning. What about the woman who is out there now? Will she have to wait long?”
“That’s Mrs. Murray. She comes in every day for me to look at her foot. It’s the same every morning—nothing wrong with it except a small bunion. I’ve explained I’d have to do surgery to really help her, but she doesn’t want that, so she just comes in every day for me to put a salve and a fresh bandage on it.”
“I see,” Hope said with a shake of her head. “She must not have much to do at home if she can come in every day.”
“Well, her husband passed last year, and she’s moved in with her daughter, so I don’t think she does. I reckon the quiet of my office is more conducive to her knitting than a house full of small children.”
“That does make sense,” Hope replied. She looked around the room and saw all sorts of bottles of medicine, salves, and ingredients for poultices. Some of them she recognized from her mother’s collection, but others were foreign to her. “Where do you order your supplies from?”
“All over the world,” he replied, crossing over to a cabinet. “This herb is from China, and it’s known to work wonders on a sore back.” He put the canister on the shelf and reached for another. “This one is from India. I haven’t used it much, but it’s for blisters and boils. And this one came all the way from the distant land of Mexico.”
Hope couldn’t help but laugh. His serious expression didn’t match the exaggeration of his words at all. “My, it must take forever to get all the way to Texas. Does it come by boat?”
“No, all imports to Texas must come by winged horses.” Again his expression was completely serious, and she found herself laughing again.
The tour of the back room only took a few minutes, but it was evident Doc was enthusiastic about his work and all of the specialized medicine and supplies he had procured. He even showed her where he kept his jars of oddities—which Hope declined to inspect too carefully for fear her stomach might not be able to handle it.
“Well, I do appreciate you taking time out of your day to give me a tour,” Hope finally said, once she was certain she’d seen all that there was to see. “But I’ve heard your door a few times since I’ve come back, and I’m sure you have a few waiting customers.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I do.” She couldn’t tell if he was content with that statement or bothered, but he did manage to smile at her. “Thank you for stopping by.”
“It truly was a fascinating exploration into the methods of modern medicine.” She hoped she didn’t sound unreasonably satisfied with her declaration.
Walking toward the hallway, Doc said, “My mother has invited me over for dinner tonight. I plan to be there, assuming there are no emergencies.”
“Oh? And what if someone comes calling, and you’re not home?” She seemed to recall that had been his reasoning for not staying the night before. She asked out of mere curiosity and not at all to be accusatory.
He led her down the hallway. “I’ll leave a note on my front door.” Doc shrugged, like it was something he did often. “My house is only a quarter mile from my folks. Hopefully, if anyone needs me, it will be someone who can read and knows where they live.”
“You could put their address,” Hope added thoughtfully.
“I could, but most people don’t know the streets around here by their names. They only know them by landmarks.”
“Really?” They were back in the small room at the front now, and there were four patients waiting to see the doctor.
“Yes, that’s the way it’s always been around here. Take a right at the big oak tree. Turn left at Sumner’s pond, that sort of thing.”
Hope understood; she’d seen a bit of that back home as well. “Perhaps you could draw a map.”
“Yes—X marks the spot or something.” Doc chuckled, and Hope had an image of him as a pirate pop into her mind. While he would make a dashing sea captain, she couldn’t envision him as a seafaring buccaneer. He was too honest for that, too kind hearted.
Doc pulled the door open. “I’ll see you soon, Miss Tucker.”
“Have a good day, Dr. Howard,” she replied, stepping out into the late morning sunshine and giving a brief wave to his nurse over his shoulder. She returned her attention to Doc to see his eyes lingering on her through the glass as he shut the door, and heat rose in her cheeks. While his friendliness seemed innocent enough, there was something in the way he looked at her that reminded Hope of Jimmy Brooks. Only, when Nicholas Howard looked at her that way, she liked it.
Monday morning came at last. It seemed like the weekend had worn on for more than twenty-four hours each day. Even though Hope had been busy, preparing her lessons, exploring the town more, and getting to know the folks at church, she had felt as if time were dragging on and that the first day of school would never arrive.
She was up before the sun, taking care of her morning toiletry needs, and dressed in her nicest teaching outfit—a white shirtwaist and black skirt. Her daddy said it was a nice mix of strictness and encouragement, the black and white representing the good and evil of the world. She laughed when he’d said it, but she thought it must’ve stuck in her mind because she wore it often. She’d also donned her most comfortable pair of ankle boots and put her hair up tightly so it would be out of her way. Today was an important day. After all, the first impression these children and their parents received of their new teacher would set the tone for the rest of the school year and potentially many more years to come.