Page 92 of At Love’s Command

Charlie came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. “That just looks wrong.”

Josephine elbowed him in the ribs. “You’ll get used to it.”

Charlie let out a beleaguered sigh. “I suppose. But you can’t Hanger it up until next week. You’re still a Burkett for a few more days.”

Josephine groaned as she turned to face him, her eyes rolling with excessive drama. “‘Hanger it up’? Really? That was terrible.”

Charlie’s eyes danced. “That’s what happens when you have a brother who’s always Hangering around next door.”

“Stop!” She swatted lightly at his chest but couldn’t keep laughter from bubbling out of her mouth.

Having the teasing brother back that she remembered so well from her youth made her relocation to San Antonio worth every heartache that came with saying good-bye to friends. Charlie now joined her for church, held down a job, and made a delightful nuisance of himself on a regular basis. She couldn’t be more pleased with his turnaround.

Tension still existed between the Burkett men, but there was no outright animosity. After they’d returned home, her father had given Charlie a choice. Either buckle down and learn the business of Gringolet, join the army, or find a job elsewhere to support himself. There’d be no more allowance. He’d only have access to funds earned by the sweat of his brow.

Even in the best of times, Charlie had chafed under his father’s management, so working at Gringolet was out of the question. With Matthew’s influence, Charlie could have easily found his way into a cavalry unit, but her brother rejected that option as well. Which left finding work locally. A task that proved difficult. Having a reputation for colluding with outlaws didn’t inspire a great deal of trust in prospective employers, but God was in the prodigal-redeeming business, and in less than a month, he’d opened a path.

Josephine’s father had insisted on bestowing a generous reward on Arnold Watson when he learned the measures the camp cook had taken not only to keep his daughter safe during her captivity, but also to protect Charlie during the gunfight. Arnold had used that money—along with funds whose origins Josephine chose not to question—to open an eatery in the vacant storefront next door to her new clinic on the outskirts of town.

The Chuck Wagon Café made the perfect neighbor for a doctor who could barely boil water. Arnold kept her fed with simple cowboy fare that had proven popular with the locals. So popular, in fact, that he soon needed someone to wait tables and help in the kitchen. Charlie proved the perfect fit. His charisma made him a natural with the customers. Not only that, but Arnold swore her brother had talent in the kitchen. Even more amazing, Charlie actually enjoyed the work. Cooking gave him the freedom to experiment and make his own mark. Something he’d never been able to accomplish under their father at Gringolet.

“You really need to redo the main sign as well,” Charlie said. “Medical Clinic is so boring. I’d vote for Bullets & Babies.”

“What? That’s awful!” Yet she couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping.

Charlie made a comically thoughtful face. “Babies & Bullets?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Just because my practice leans heavily toward expectant mothers and violent injuries does not mean I need to advertise that fact to the world.”

As was often the case when a female doctor started a medical practice, women comprised the majority of Josephine’s clients. However, after word spread about her being the personal physician for Hanger’s Horsemen and the future wife of Matthew Hanger himself, she started collecting a new clientele. One a bit rougher around the edges, whose presenting symptoms included bullet holes, penetrating knife wounds, and head trauma usually brought on by collisions with liquor bottles. She never thought she’d miss Mrs. Flanders’s carbuncle, but every once in a while, it would be nice to treat an actual illness.

Charlie continued spouting other horrendous monikers for her clinic, but the quiet click of boot heels on the boardwalk outside deafened her to anything he said. Heart fluttering, she checked her pendant watch and confirmed her hypothesis.

It was time.

She tore off her work apron and threw it at her brother, then smoothed her bodice and touched a hand to her hair.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Charlie waved the white apron at her, but she sidestepped him without an answer and hurried across the room.

The front door opened, and there he was. The man who would be her husband in three days.

Unable to help herself, she scanned him for any sign of injury, then thanked the Lord when she found none. His examination of her apparently followed a more leisurely timetable, for when she raised her gaze back to his face, his was still making a slow, upward climb. When his eyes finally met hers again, she found herself grateful for the cool October breeze blowing into her clinic.

Matthew stepped close and wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her against his chest. “I missed you, darlin’.”

“I missed you too,” she said, bringing a hand up to fiddle with the top button on his light blue vest. “A week is a long time.”

“Too long.” He dipped his head toward hers.

She raised her face.

Charlie pounced. “Matt! Good to have you back.”

Matthew lifted his head and scowled at her completely unrepentant brother. Charlie took his chaperoning duties far too seriously.

Heat flushed Josephine’s cheeks as she eased away from Matthew’s possessive hold. She curled her arm around his, though, and led him the rest of the way inside, leaving Charlie to close the door behind them.

“Did the widow’s case go as expected?” she asked. While she’d been setting up her new clinic in San Antonio, the Horsemen had been investigating the suspicious goings-on in Burnet. Wallace and Preach had spent nearly a month at the ranch before uncovering the truth.