A Convenient Wife. Carolyn Davidson

your witch hazel and that arnica stuff you used on my boy’s banged up leg when he got it bruised so bad last month.”

      “Tincture of Arnica,” Win said distractedly, his mind racing. “What are we talking about here, Tess? Have you seen Ellie today? What’s wrong with her?”

      “You know her?” Tess frowned, taken aback by his recognition of the girl’s name.

      Win nodded quickly. “She was in here yesterday. Said—” He halted the words that would have spewed from his lips. “Well, let’s just say she needed a bit of advice.”

      Tess slanted him a knowing glance. “She’s going to have a baby, Doc. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

      He nodded. “I noticed, all right. Did she tell you when she left here? I saw her stop at the mercantile.”

      “No,” Tess answered. “I figured it out, once I took a good look at her. She hadn’t been in town for a couple of months, but I knew when I saw her comin’ in the door of the store she was in the family way. Now today, just after noon, she came walkin’ into the mercantile, and she’s all banged up. Looks like somebody ran her over with a team of horses.”

      Win stood, his heart racing. “She was in an accident?”

      Tess shook her head. “Not unless you call running into her father’s fists accidental. She looks like he pounded her good.”

      Win felt his stomach clench, and anger rose to tighten his jaw. “She must have told him about the baby,” he surmised, wishing for just a moment that he could lay his hands on the brute who had fathered the young woman.

      “I expect so,” Tess answered, her eyes bleak. “She came in to see me, asking if I could use her help in exchange for a place to stay for a while. Don’t know where she’s planning on going or what she’ll do when she gets there.”

      Shoving his hands in his pockets, Win strode to the doorway. A vision of the young woman he’d seen yesterday appeared in his mind’s eye. That her piquant beauty should be marred by a father’s anger was not to be tolerated. And yet, there would be no one to stand up for the girl. A father was the authority in today’s society, especially here on the edge of civilization.

      He turned abruptly. “Tess, where is she now?”

      “At our place, stretched out on a bed. She was absolutely exhausted, poor child. I made her get washed up and showed her the bed. She didn’t even have the energy to eat something first, just plopped down and closed her eyes.”

      Tess looked at him expectantly. “Will you do something to help?”

      “You got something in mind?” he asked.

      “I thought maybe she could come in by the day and do for you. You know, cook and clean, maybe.” Tess surged to her feet. “No woman deserves to be an outcast, Doc. And I’m afraid that’s what’s in Ellie’s future. There’s certain women in town who will turn their backs on her once everyone realizes her condition. And there’s others who’ll sympathize, but keep quiet.”

      “Cook and clean.” As if his mind had latched on to the phrase, he repeated it, almost absently. And then he cast her a penetrating glance. “This isn’t one of your matchmaking projects, is it?”

      Tess colored, shaking her head. “No, of course not. For heaven’s sake, a doctor should have a wife above reproach in the community. That’s why I’ve tried to get you interested in several of the young women from the better families.”

      “Ellie told me my yard needed watering,” Win said, a smile coming to life as he recalled her words. “Send her over when she wakes up, Tess. I’ll see what I can do.”

      The scraps from last night’s roast lay heavy in the pit of her stomach as Ellie awoke. Sleeping the afternoon away wasn’t something she generally did, and the undigested food she’d eaten on the long walk to town hadn’t agreed with her. She struggled to sit upright, the bed having an unfortunate tendency to sag in the middle.

      Once on her feet, she scooped her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and sought out the hairpins she’d placed on the night table. It might not be neat and tidy, but it was as good as a hairdo could be expected to look when a day had gone as poorly as this one.

      The scent of chicken cooking lured her to the kitchen, and she crossed the room to the back door, opening it wide, inhaling deeply of the fresh air. Food was not at the top of her list right now, but Tess and John Dillard would be home from the mercantile soon, and if supper was ready, they would probably be most appreciative.

      The oven held a whole roasting hen and from the looks of it, it only needed potatoes and vegetables added to complete the meal. Ellie explored the pantry, finding a bucket of new potatoes, and a bunch of carrots. Cooking gave her a sense of accomplishment, and she scouted out a paring knife, her capable hands readying the vegetables for the oven. A pan of stale bread, cut up into cubes, told her that Tess had plans for chicken stuffing, and in minutes, Ellie had cut up an onion and found spices to complete that dish.

      She drained broth from the roasting hen into the bread pan and mixed the stuffing quickly, placing it in a greased tin to bake. Outside the back door, two little girls played in the afternoon sunshine, and waved in her direction when they saw her in the doorway.

      “Mama said to let you sleep. She told us we wasn’t to disturb you,” the tallest of the two said cheerfully. “This here is my friend Alice. And I’m June-bug. At least that’s what my papa calls me. And sometimes he calls me an afterthought.” She grinned widely. “I don’t know what it means, but he always laughs and hugs me when he says it.”

      June-bug. Ellie smiled, even as a sadness descended over her. Imagine having a father who would designate his daughter as such, who would tease the little girl with a nickname, bringing smiles to her freckled face.

      “June-bug sounds like a wonderful name,” Ellie said. “I’m just Ellie.”

      “My mama told me. Is that what your papa calls you?”

      Ellie nodded. But not lately, she thought, the memory of those hated appellations he’d shouted in her direction coming to mind. Not lately.

      “Are you cookin’ our supper?” June-bug asked. “I can smell chicken.”

      “Your mama had it in the oven. I’m just putting some potatoes and carrots in with it.”

      “She’ll be glad,” the child said with a sharp nod. “She’s kinda tired when she gets home. And when my sisters got married last year, there wasn’t nobody left to cook dinner, but me and Mama. And she won’t let me touch the stove without her bein’ here to watch.”

      Tess was more than glad, her words joyous as she followed John into the house less than an hour later. “You didn’t have to cook for us,” she exclaimed, eyeing the pan Ellie had just taken from the oven. “But I surely do appreciate it, Ellie. June said you were making biscuits when she looked in the door a while ago.”

      “We may just keep you,” John teased, up to his elbows in soapsuds as he washed up at the sink.

      Ellie smiled, forcing a pleasant look, as she caught sight of Tess’s sympathetic glance in her direction. She’d looked in the mirror herself; knew the sight of a swollen eye and cheek would be causing talk around the town should she appear in public. It was enough that she’d paraded down the road with her head bowed, finding her way to the back door of the mercantile in order to see if Tess could use any help.

      “You’ve got no need for me,” Ellie said bluntly. “But I’ll find something to do. Maybe I can get a job at one of the ranches.”

      “I may have something in mind,” Tess told her. “I stopped by to see Doc Gray earlier. He might have need of you. Man never eats right, and he’s having to send out his washing to be done. I’ll warrant his floors haven’t seen a scrub rag in a month, since he had Eula Peters in to clean up things.”

      “Dr.