And, gradually, she seemed to dismiss any remaining concerns she might have held about him. She permitted him to spend additional time with her father, providing meticulous instruction on Dr. Schell’s care. He needed bathing, help with eating, exercise of his wasted limbs, trips into the garden, and company most of all.
Quentin had seen Johanna’s doubt—doubt that he could seriously wish to take on such burdensome and tedious care for a stranger. Doubt even about his motives. But after the first two days, she had trusted Quentin with her father’s morning bath and meal. She’d spent that time with the patients, Harper and May in particular, and thanked Quentin at the end of the day with real warmth and gratitude.
Johanna’s gratitude. How ironic that it should mean so much to him. But looking after the elder Dr. Schell wasn’t some scheme born of his inconvenient desire for one of her rare smiles. It felt almost like caring for his own father—a man he hardly remembered, dead when he was a boy. He caught glimpses, in talking to the old man, in watching him and Johanna together, of what it would have been like to grow up with such paternal love and support.
Dr. Schell’s brilliance, spirit, and compassion lived on in his daughter. And Wilhelm Schell bore no resemblance to the ruling figure in Quentin’s childhood.
Tiberius Forster, the late Earl of Greyburn.
Quentin’s mind slid away from the image like a raindrop on the skin of a perfect grape. Tiberius Forster was long dead. That was another life, another world.
“We’re not moving!”
He came back to himself at Oscar’s plaintive observation. Daisy had stopped to graze on the golden grasses at the side of the lane, taking advantage of Quentin’s inattention.
Quentin shook his head. “She’s a wily one, isn’t she? Would you like to take the reins, Oscar?”
“You bet!” He reached for the lines eagerly, and Quentin carefully placed them in the boy’s hands, covering the much larger fingers with his own.
“C’mon, Daisy!” Oscar crowed, and soon they were on their way again.
Quentin had seen Silverado Springs from a distance but had never entered the town. It was as Johanna had described it to him: neat, peaceful, respectable, and well-provisioned enough for the flocks of moneyed resort-goers who came to the hot and mineral springs to bathe and improve their health. Aside from the springs and the attached hotels and amusements, it was much like a thousand other such towns that Quentin had visited, in California and elsewhere.
Retrieving the reins from Oscar, Quentin followed Johanna’s directions to the general store on the main street. It would have been impossible to miss. The usual idlers lounged, smoked, or talked on the wooden porch, looking for something to alleviate their perpetual boredom. Quentin was mindful of their stares as he tied Daisy to the hitching post.
Johanna had warned him to expect a certain amount of wariness from the local populace. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; these good people might have more reason to be wary if they knew what he really was.
Oscar was oblivious to anything but the prospect of tasting the licorice Quentin had promised him. He bounded up the stairs, nearly upsetting one of the lounger’s chairs.
“Damned idiot,” the man muttered to one of his fellows, aiming a chewed wad of tobacco through a hole in the planks of the porch. “Shouldn’t let him run loose.”
Quentin paused on his way up the stairs to glance at the man, an ill-shaven lout whose belly protruded from between his suspenders. “Did he do you any harm?” he asked.
“Damn near knocked me out’ve my chair,” the man said. “Who’re you?” He snickered. “Another one of them loonies? You sure don’t look like it.”
“You’d be surprised,” Quentin said. “My name is Quentin Forster. Young Oscar there is my friend.”
The man debated how best to reply and decided to err on the side of caution. “You some hired man of the doc’s?”
“I am boarding at the Haven,” he said.
Another man, at the end of the row, made a low sound. “I’ll bet,” he whispered to his nearest companion. “Wonder how many male ‘boarders’ the lady doctor takes on there? Wouldn’t I like to find out. She sure ain’t picky…”