Twin of Fire (Montgomery/Taggert 7) - Page 10

Blair couldn’t help smiling up at him, and she felt that the two of them were in this together. Houston kept on baiting Lee as Blair leaned back in the seat and watched the stars, not bothering to listen to her sister’s ranting.

When at last they came to Tia’s house, she was very glad. And when Houston was gone and Blair and Lee were alone, she breathed a deep sigh.

“It’s rather like the aftermath of a bad rainstorm,” she said, looking up at Lee and half dreading his comments about her other self.

“She doesn’t mean anything. All doctors are like that when they leave medical school. You’re very aware of the responsibility of your profession.”

“And it changes later?”

“It does, but I’m not sure how to explain it. I guess you come to learn your limitations and aren’t so sure that you can save the world single-handedly.”

Blair relaxed against the back of the carriage and thought how kind of him it was that he didn’t say anything bad about Houston’s attacking him. And he’d called her a doctor.

It felt quite natural when she slipped her arm through his and didn’t move to the other side of the buggy now that her sister was gone. She didn’t notice the odd way that Leander looked at her, but Blair was quite pleased with the evening.

Chapter 4

Chandler, Colorado, was at the base of the Rocky Mountains with an altitude of seven thousand feet and, as a result, the air was always thin, clear and cool. The summers were pleasant during the day, and when the sun went down, the mountain air made shawls necessary.

Blair sat next to Lee and took deep breaths, inhaling the crisp fragrance of the mountains. She hadn’t realized she’d missed it as much as she had.

They had not driven half a mile when a man rode up in a flurry of dust, his horse panting, and yelled at Leander. “Westfield! Somebody needs help. There’s a woman down on River Street that just tried to kill herself.”

Blair had never seen the man before, and she didn’t think she wanted to again. He looked like a cartoon of a gambler, with his coal black hair and his little mustache and, worse, the way he smirked as he stared at her.

He took off his straight-brimmed hat and tipped it to her. “I could understand that maybe you’re too busy to come, Doc.”

Blair glanced at Lee and saw that he was hesitating, and she knew that it as on her account. “I’ll go with you, Lee. Maybe I can be of some help.”

The man, a gambler or not, said, “River Street ain’t no place for a lady. Maybe I should watch out for her while you go to the suicide.”

That settled Lee as nothing else had. He cracked the whip over the horse’s head and yelled, “Hang on,” to Blair all in one breath.

Blair slammed against the back of the carriage seat and grabbed the roof support as Lee went flying. She closed her eyes in terror twice, as Lee narrowly missed three other carriages. The people saw him coming and started getting out of his way long before he reached them. She heard several shouts of encouragement and guessed that the sight of Lee tearing through the streets was a familiar one.

He halted the horse in the northeast corner of town, across the Tijeras River and between two railroad tracks—a place Blair had never seen or been curious about. In one motion, he tied the horse, grabbed his bag, leaped to the ground, and ordered Blair to remain in

the buggy.

After a quick glance at the leering face of the gambler, she followed Lee into the house with the red lights on the outside. Lee went up the stairs as if he knew where he was going, but Blair couldn’t help looking around.

Everything seemed to be red. The walls were red, the carpets were red, the furniture was upholstered in red with red fringe. And what wasn’t red was made of very dark wood.

At the head of the stairs, she saw a tight group of women in various stages of undress and, just as she reached them, they began backing away from the door.

“I need help, I told you,” Blair heard Lee shouting as she pushed her way through the crowd.

Lee glanced up at her. “I told you to stay in the car.” On the bed in front of him was a pale, thin young woman, actually little more than a girl, writhing in pain that Blair guessed was from swallowing an alcohol-based disinfectant.

“Carbolic?” Blair asked, and as she saw Lee removing a stomach pump from his bag, she knew what had to be done.

Blair didn’t lose a moment going to work. With a voice of authority, she ordered three women, one wearing only her corset and a thin black wrapper, to hold the girl’s arms and legs, and another one to fetch towels. When a tall, well-dressed woman who looked as though she knew how to give orders came into the room, Blair sent her after two raincoats, and when the coats were there, Blair watched Lee until he had a free hand, then she slipped it into the sleeve of one oiled, waterproof garment. She then put the other raincoat on over her sister’s dress.

Lee talked to the girl, soothing her even as he pushed the pump down her throat, and when the carbolic came up, it came with all the contents of her stomach, splattering everyone in the room.

Gagging, sick, weak, covered in filth, the girl clung to Lee, and he held her, while Blair quietly organized the cleaning.

“Nothing is that bad,” Lee said, holding the girl as she began to cry. “Here, I want you to drink this,” he said, giving her water and two tablets.

Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical
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