Chapter Four
As she walked back from the mercantile three weeks later, she saw the sheriff and his dog. “Sheriff, you’re walking… you’re almost limping. What’s wrong?” She scratched Sylvester between the ears.
The sheriff turned red. “Nothing, nothing at all. Just out doing my rounds.”
She wrinkled her nose while she weighed his answer versus his appearance. “If you say so. In the event there’s something wrong, don’t forget I’m the town’s doctor.”
He tapped his fingers against his hat brim. “I’m fine, Doctor. Come on, Sylvester.”
Riley did his best to walk normally but every step irritated that damn boil. What was he gonna do? He sure wasn’t asking a woman to lance it.
He stopped in the barber shop. Pastor Nichols was getting his hair trimmed. Riley listened while the barber and the preacher discussed the latest snow and the bounty of the county’s crops.
As soon as the minister left, Riley edged toward the barber. “Uriah, I need your help with a problem.”
“Sure, Riley. What can I do for you?”
He gestured for the barber to follow him behind the curtain that separated the shop from the back room.
“You pull teeth back here. That’s sort of medical.”
Uriah shook his head. “Not really, but say what you came to.”
“Well, see, there’s this giant boil on my backside. I need you to lance it.”
The barber narrowed his brown eyes. “Riley, are you nuts? Get the doctor to take care of that thing.”
“Uriah, I can’t go showing her my backside. You gotta help me.”
Uriah shook his head. “I’m not looking at yours or anyone else’s rear excepting Millie’s. Your kind of problem is Dr. Callahan’s business but it sure isn’t mine.” He pointed at the door. “Now, get that dog out of my place.”
Riley ambled toward his office at the jail. Danged if he’d show his backside to a woman doctor, especially not one who inspired his lustful thoughts. He didn’t want her to witness a sudden salute from his other head.
Maybe he could lance the boil himself. Sure, he could probably use a mirror and take care of the job. How hard could it be?
Back at the jail, he took the little shaving mirror off the wall. After heating his knife to clean it, he dropped his britches. No matter how he held the mirror and twisted, he couldn’t gain access to treat the problem.
Giving up, he fastened his pants and returned his knife to his pocket. “Come on, Sylvester. Let’s go see George.”
His dog followed and they strolled to the bathhouse—actually Sylvester strolled and Riley limped. Every step sent his underwear and pants fabric rubbing across his sore backside. There were several customers at the bathhouse when they arrived. Riley waited until all the other men were engaged in the curtained off tubs.
“George, I have a delicate problem.”
His friend acted concerned and pulled him aside. “Something I can do to help?”
“Glad you asked. You see, I have this boil on my backside that hurts like the devil every time I move. I need you to lance it for me.”
George’s solicitous nature disappeared. “Are you crazy? Get on over to the doctor and have her take care of your problem. That’s her job. And, don’t you go using this place until that thing is healed, you hear?”
Riley hobbled as far as the gate to her office. He wasn’t sure he could expose his rear to her. At least, not under these conditions.
He’d faced weather disasters, robbers, gunfighters, an angry bear, and a contentious mountain lion. Surely he could do this. He pushed open the gate and shambled to the front door.
When he opened the office door, Shannon sat at her desk. Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying.
Sure enough, she dabbed at her face before she rose and offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hello, Sheriff. This is an odd time for your rounds.”
Already he regretted coming here. “This is a… a medical problem.”
She stood and looked so hopeful he couldn’t leave without telling her about the danged boil.
“Oh, please come in and tell me what’s wrong.”
“When you thought I was limping, you were right. Now don’t laugh or make a joke about my problem. I, um, have this thing on my rear that’s getting larger and is irritated by my clothes.”
A frown furrowed her beautiful brow. “Sounds painful. Come into the treatment room and I’ll examine you.” She bent to his dog. “Sylvester, you wait right here, all right?”
As if he understood her, Sylvester plopped down and rested his muzzle on his paws.
She strode into the adjacent area. Riley followed.
She washed her hands and dried them. “Drop your pants and lie face down on that second examination table.” She pivoted to arrange medical supplies.
After turning his back to her, he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his drawers down to his thighs. Before she saw his nudity, he climbed onto the metal table.
When his manly parts touched the metal, he winced. “Yeow, that’s cold.”
She brought a tray holding evil looking devices. “Sorry about the metal. I know you’re uncomfortable, but this won’t take long.”
Her hands brushed against his skin and he closed his eyes. Her touch was gentle yet firm, which didn’t make sense. He longed to have her explore all of him.
“Sheriff, you have the largest sebaceous cyst I’ve ever seen. This should have been treated before now. How long have you been in pain?”
He couldn’t admit how many days he’d avoided treatment. “Not sure. Been bothering my walking this week.”
“The problem with this type cyst is that the protective film holding the inflammation has to come out or there’ll be a recurrence. I’m aware this hurts but trust that what I do is necessary.”
She sliced into his rear. Damn right, it hurt. He wanted the gentle hands back instead of the knife and whatever other torture device she was using.
He unclenched his jaw enough to say, “Get this taken care of and let me go on my way.”
She pushed on his rear. “You must be careful not to touch this area until the cyst has healed.”
Phew, he caught of whiff of something putrid. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s you, or rather the abscess from your infection.”
“Abscess sounds serious. Are you almost finished?”
“Not even close. Be brave, Sheriff McCallister. Pretend you have a gunshot wound and I’m digging out a bullet.”
He growled through gritted teeth, “Laugh if you want.”
“I’m not laughing, simply trying to distract you. Ah, that’s the cyst lining I’ve just extracted.”
“I never should have come here.”
“Wrong. You should have come to me days ago. Why didn’t you?”
“Aw, it’s not easy for a man to drop his drawers in front of a woman.”
She made a tut-tut sound. “I’d be willing to wager you’ve dropped your drawers in front of plenty of women in your lifetime.”
He gasped and peered over his shoulder. “I’m surprised you’d mention such indelicate things.”
She smiled at him then went back to work. “You should be used to me surprising you, Sheriff.”
“Now that’s the plain truth. I’ll give you five more minutes and then, finished or not, I’m out of here.”
“Your patience is rewarded. As soon as I get this gauze pad fastened in place, you can get up.” She rolled a bandage across his backside and reached under him to reach it from the other side.
He made a sound that sounded odd even to him and grabbed her hand. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t flatter yourself that I’m making advances, Sheriff. I’m merely wrapping a bandage around you so I can tie the gauze in place.”
“I’ll deal with that.” He reached under his hips and retrieved the end of the cloth strip.
She tied the pad in place. “I’ve folded the gauze extra thick to prevent your clothing from irritating the wound. Keep the site clean and don’t scratch or rub the area until you’re healed.”
He waited until she turned her back to clean her instruments before he stood and pulled up his britches. “How much do I owe you?”
“Not a thing, Sheriff. This was a free clinic day, although you’re only my second patient. Your cyst may return. If it does, please don’t wait so long to seek treatment.”
He clamped his hat on his head. “Guess you were shocked seeing my behind. Serves you right for setting yourself up as a doctor.”
“For your information, Sheriff, I’ve seen my share of backsides since I’ve been a physician.” She shot him a wicked grin. “I have to say, yours is among the best looking.”
He figured if he’d ever blushed, he was doing so now. Her eyes danced with either anger or mischief. Maybe both.
“You’ve had your laugh. Not only did I have to ask for your help but for an embarrassing ailment. Don’t think I’ve changed my mind about women doctors. Looking at a man’s backside is not a job for a decent woman.”
Uh oh. Sparks ignited in her eyes and he figured he’d set off an explosion.
Sure enough, she stepped toward him. “I beg your pardon, Sheriff McCallister. I am as decent and proper as any woman you’ve ever met. You think if I sat in the parlor and embroidered I’d be making more of a contribution to the world?”
She poked at his chest with her forefinger. “You think being a sheriff is the only way to help people? Being a doctor means I can help people, really help them. That is if the stiff-necked people who share your opinion would come in and let me treat them.”
After sending her a glare, he stomped out of her office. Help people, my foot. She was one of those discontented women who thought being a wife and mother was unworthy of her.
Wait, she’d said this was her free clinic day and he’d been her second patient. He checked his pocket watch. Six o’clock. No wonder she’d been crying when he came by.
Why should that bother him? He didn’t understand, but thinking of her unhappy and growing old alone made him sad. She was much too spirited and lovely to deprive herself of a family. Aw, why the hell should he care?