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a train in ten minutes. How much of a fever does he have? I mean, how hot is he?”

Elsie gave him a confused look. “How would I know that? He collapsed, and he’s hot to the touch.”

The doctor pulled out his pocket watch. “Dang trains are never on time. I’ll take a quick look at him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

As they walked, Elsie remembered Conner’s prized piece of equipment. “Conner has a thermometer.”

“A thermometer? I’ve never used one, but I hear they’re very accurate.”

Elsie opened the clinic door and said, “I’ll get his bag.”

She led the doctor to Conner’s room, and while he bent over to examine her husband, she fished around in his bag until she’d found the velvet box. She handed it to Wadsworth.

After taking Conner’s temperature, the doctor slid into the chair beside the bed and shook his head.

“How high is it?” Elsie asked.

“One hundred and four. Can you and Bertie get me some cold water and rags?”

Bertie and Elsie spent the night sponging Conner down, leaving the room when Wadsworth cooled his private areas. In this way, they brought his temperature down to one hundred and two.

“I’ll be fine, Doc,” Conner said breathlessly.

Doc Wadsworth shook his head. “Not anytime soon. You, young man, have a case of the measles.”

“Measles!” Bertie and Elsie said at the same time.

The doctor peered into Conner’s eyes, lifting the lids with his fingers. “It looks like you never had them as a child.” The doctor peered at Elsie and Bertie over his spectacles. “Have you both had them?”

Elsie nodded. “I had them when I was six.”

 “I had them when I was about the same age,” Bertie said.

“Thank goodness for that,” Wadsworth said. “At my age, I can only take care of one patient at a time.”

Bertie didn’t stay at Hazel’s. She admitted to Elsie that it had been an excuse to leave her and Conner alone, but she stayed to help Elsie nurse Conner. Elsie kept sponging him down, although his fever had dropped to one hundred and one. “Now, who has the freckles?” she said, trying to joke with him while she bathed him.

Conner looked down at his arms and chest, dappled with red dots. “Yes, but mine will go away.”

Elsie smacked him lightly with the cloth, but he grabbed it and pulled her closer. “And don’t forget—we still have an important date.”

She laughed and pulled the cloth from him. “We’ve had a long enough wait. People in town will wonder when they see I’m not with child yet.”

“Child?” Conner gave her a puzzled look.

“Yes. You do know how they’re made, right?”

“I don’t want children. I wrote that on my questionnaire and underlined it.”

“And I wrote that I wanted a house full of children.”

“I don’t know who messed up our questionnaires, but I’m serious: no children.”

Elsie felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to be a mother. She continued to sponge Conner down, but she remained silent on the matter.

Here she was, stuck out in a remote western town, married to a man who had yet to make love to her and didn’t want children. Her life was just full of disappointments. She wrung out her cloth, hung it on a clothes hanger to dry, and turned to leave the room, but Conner sat up, caught her hand, and pulled her closer to the bed.

“We still have Taffy. I thought she was supposed to be your cat, but she sleeps at my side every night. If you want, we could get another cat. I’m starting to like them.”

Elsie gave him a weak smile. “We’ll talk about this when you’re better.”

Chapter Seventeen

It took three weeks before Conner felt like himself. At breakfast one morning, he said to Bertie, “I hear Hazel is feeling sick again.”

Elsie noticed a confused look pass across Bertie’s face before a look of dawning appeared. “Oh, yes. I plan to over this afternoon and perhaps stay the night.”

“Give her our regards,” Conner said.

Elsie tried to hide her smile until Bertie turned back to the stove.

“Your dinner will be in the oven,” she said over her shoulder.

The clinic wasn’t too busy that day, and when Elsie had to walk past Conner, he moved close enough for their shoulders or arms to touch, and Elsie got goosebumps each time. They also exchanged glowing looks. Both looked forward to finally consummating their marriage.

At six o’clock, Conner put up the closed sign. It read “Closed” at the top and in smaller letters beneath that, “In an emergency, knock loudly.”

Conner turned off the lights as Elsie put away the last tool. He held the door to the kitchen open. “Shall we have dinner?”

“I’m starving,” Elsie replied. She opened the oven to remove a beautifully browned beef roast surrounded by carrots, a bowl of gravy, a dish of mashed potatoes, and a piece of chicken meant for her.

Conner lit the candles Bertie had set on the old wooden kitchen table.

“This is heavenly,” Elsie said. “I would like a dining room in our new house, though.”

 “Hey, we agree on something.”

Elsie laughed as she poured the tea that Bertie had steeped and kept warm on the stove.

Conner sliced the roast. He put the chicken on Elsie’s plate and four slices of beef on his, then dished up the potatoes and gravy. “How about we go to the builder’s tomorrow and ask if we can add a dining room to our plan?”

Elsie nodded between bites of food.

“Remember,” Conner said, “we agreed on four bedrooms, a sitting room, and a large kitchen. If you want a dining room, I’m sure the builder can add it on.  The house frame is up, but it shouldn’t be difficult to add on a dining room off the kitchen.”

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