She Was a Doctor Who Became a Mail-Order Bride — The Cowboy Who Had No Idea What He Was Getting
Chapter 2
Ethan led Clara into the farmhouse.
His mother, Margaret Walker, was lying upstairs.
She was sixty-two.
Pale.
Weak.
Her breathing was shallow.
Clara checked her pulse.
Then her pupils.
Then her medication bottles.
Ethan watched.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out why no one knows what’s wrong with her.”
The family doctor had diagnosed heart failure.
Clara wasn’t convinced.
She checked Margaret’s ankles.
Her blood pressure.
Her medication schedule.
Then she opened the pill organizer.
“This is wrong.”
Ethan frowned.
“What?”
“This dose.”
“It was prescribed.”
“By whom?”
“Dr. Miller.”
Clara looked at him.
“Who is he?”
“The ranch doctor.”
“Does he work here?”
“No.”
“How often does he visit?”
“Twice a month.”
Clara looked again at Margaret.
“Then somebody is giving her the wrong medication.”
Ethan shook his head.
“That’s impossible.”
“It isn’t.”
Margaret opened her eyes.
She looked at Clara.
“You’re the girl.”
Clara blinked.
“What?”
“The doctor.”
Ethan stepped back.
“You knew?”
Margaret smiled faintly.
“I read your letters.”
Clara looked at Ethan.
“You told me she knew nothing.”
“I thought she didn’t.”
Margaret reached for Clara’s hand.
“You’re late.”
Clara smiled awkwardly.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“For me?”
“For someone who would question the diagnosis.”
Clara felt a chill.
“What do you mean?”
Margaret looked at Ethan.
“He never listens.”
Ethan sighed.
“That isn’t fair.”
“It is.”
Clara examined the medication again.
“I need to send samples to a laboratory.”
Ethan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I suspect she’s being poisoned.”
Silence.
Ethan stared at her.
“Poisoned?”
“Slowly.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Ethan looked horrified.
“Who would do that?”
Clara looked at him.
“That is what I intend to find out.”
For the next two hours, Clara worked.
She adjusted Margaret’s medications.
Monitored her heart.
Ordered emergency tests.
She didn’t know how to explain it, but Margaret improved.
Her breathing became easier.
Her color returned.
Ethan stood at the doorway.
“You really are a doctor.”
Clara glanced at him.
“I was wondering when you’d figure that out.”
He almost smiled.
Then Rose entered.
“Can Grandma stay?”
Clara looked at Margaret.
“Yes.”
Rose smiled.
She hugged her grandmother.
Then turned to Clara.
“Thank you.”
Clara’s heart softened.
That evening, Ethan took Clara outside.
The sunset painted the mountains orange.
“I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“I thought you answered my advertisement because you were desperate.”
“I was.”
He frowned.
“But not for the reason you thought.”
She looked toward the fields.
“My career fell apart.”
“Why?”
“A patient died.”
“Your fault?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“The hospital wanted me to lie.”
Ethan was silent.
“I refused.”
“So you lost everything.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“Neither are you.”
He smiled slightly.
“Is that good?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Then Ethan became serious.
“There is something you should know.”
“What?”
“My family doesn’t want you here.”
Clara looked at the mansion.
“Why?”
“My father never wanted a doctor to marry into the family.”
“Why?”
“He believed doctors asked too many questions.”
Clara laughed.
“Then your father would hate me.”
Ethan’s smile disappeared.
“My father is dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He died six years ago.”
“How?”
Ethan looked away.
“Heart failure.”
Clara stopped.
“Same doctor?”
“Yes.”
She thought about Margaret’s medication.
Then about the ranch.
Then the family.
Something wasn’t right.
That night, Clara looked through Margaret’s medical file.
One medication appeared repeatedly.
Digoxin.
She checked the dates.
Every dosage increase happened shortly before Margaret’s condition worsened.
Clara whispered:
“Someone is slowly killing her.”
She didn’t know Ethan was standing outside the door.
And he had heard every word.
