Free Courting the Doctor's Daughter by Janet Dean Page A

prone to fainting. If I let her stay, she’d be on the floor, and we’d have two patients on our hands.” He smiled, raising a questioning brow. “So, Doctor, would you like to stitch up that gash, or shall I?”
    Luke had wondered how long it’d take Dr. Lawrence to uncover his profession. “I’ll hold him,” he mouthed, not wanting to alarm Homer.
    Doc nodded just as Miss Graves returned to the surgery. She appeared surprised to still see him there. By the tension around her mouth as she prepared the needle, he half expected her to toss him out.
    Before she could, Doc came around to meet the boy’s gaze. “This is going to hurt and I’m mighty sorry. But once we’re done, I’ve got a candy stick for you.”
    Tears filled Homer’s eyes, but he managed a shaky nod.
    Miss Graves handed Doc a bottle of antiseptic. He dabbed the wound. At the sting, Homer shrieked. Luke trapped his arms and legs so he couldn’t thrash, while Dr. Lawrence talked a blue streak about fishing, dogs, anything to take the lad’s mind off what came next.
    While Doc stitched, Mary Graves kept her eyes on the boy, laid a gentle hand on his forehead, crooning that it would soon be over. She stood mere inches away. He couldn’t help noticing her scent, clean and starchy, with the faintest touch of something he’d smelled before. Where? Ah, in his grandmother’s garden on his parent’s estate. What was it? Honeysuckle?
    Doc tied off the last stitch, and Luke eased his hold on the boy.
    Miss Graves straightened and patted the lad’s hand. “You were very brave, Homer. The only thing left to do is bandage you up, and that won’t hurt at all.” She crossed the room, opened a drawer, brought out gauze and a fine-tipped pair of scissors and in minutes finished the task while he and Doc washed up.
    Miss Graves gave the boy his promised treat and his mother a bottle of antiseptic along with instructions to keep Homer quiet but awake. Then she cleared away the mess with the competency of a trained nurse. His esteem for her raised another notch. Whatever needed doing, she did and did well. She and Doc’s motions meshed like they’d been orchestrated to music.
    Dr. Lawrence tossed aside the towel and patted Mary’s hand. “Thanks for your help, daughter.”
    Luke’s head jerked up. “ This is your daughter?”
    “Yes,” he said, his tone laced with pride. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He eyed Luke. “So, out with it, Doctor. Why aren’t you practicing medicine?”
    Miss Graves whirled to face Luke. “ You are a doctor?”
    She didn’t look happy about the news.
     
    Mary sagged against the table. This scoundrel, the man whose remedy she’d fought, was a physician? She’d supposed her father’s reason for allowing Luke Jacobs toremain in the surgery had been to remove her burden of holding Homer. Never dreaming Luke Jacobs had earned the right.
    Her stomach clenched. Worse, this meant his remedy probably had value. If so, he possessed skills of a pharmacist, and he’d attended medical school. Achievements she admired.
    But why had he kept his identity a secret? What more did he hide?
    “Where did you go to school, Doctor?” her father asked.
    “Harvard.”
    “Ah, Boston. Your accent told me you’re from out East. Harvard is a fine school, one of the best. Did you graduate at the top of your class?”
    “Yes, not that it matters. I didn’t find practicing medicine gratifying. About a year ago, I turned my practice over to my partner and holed up in my lab, searching for cures.”
    “I tried your medicine. Got the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.”
    A smile crossed Luke’s face, lighting up his eyes and softening the edges of his chiseled features. “Glad to hear it, sir.”
    The man was serious about his work. But that didn’t mean he didn’t pose a threat to Ben. Still, she breathed easier, knowing he wasn’t a drifter.
    Dr. Lawrence put his mug on the table. “I liked what I saw today.