She shrugged. “I got no way of knowing. He’s got a little black leather bag like doctors carry, but the only thing I seen him come out of that with was a bottle of whiskey. He never said much of anything until he went crazy and started that foolishness about examining the girls.” She suddenly stopped. “Say, what is your interest in the man? He’s just a bum. What would a big cattleman care about him for?”
The question caught him off guard and for a moment he fumbled. “Why, I don’t know. Curious, I guess.”
“Curious about what? Some old drunk claims to be a doctor?”
He frowned. “What the hell has got into you, Rita Ann? You seen me walking around in my stocking feet. You already know I nearly burned my boots off walking out of that desert. I kind of halfway hoped this man, if he is a doctor, might be able to do something about these blisters I still got. Might have some ointment of some kind.”
She put her hand to her mouth. She shook her head. “I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. Here you been nothing but nice to me and I speak sharp to you. My mother always said this mouth of mine was going to get me in trouble.”
He tried to put a light tone to it. “I reckon you forgot who was boss for a moment. Let’s walk on. See if this man is still alive. If he’s drinking mescal he might not be.”
Ten yards further on they came to the little rock and adobe shack. The Mexicans were nowhere in sight, but a small man in a dirty black suit and a dusty white shirt and string tie was sitting on the ground by the front door. He looked up as they arrived. He was, Longarm noted, wearing wire-rimmed glasses that looked bent and barely held their perch on his nose. He put a finger to his glasses and pushed them up as he studied Longarm and Rita Ann from his sitting position. He had a quart bottle of what Longarm took to be mescal between his legs. It was not quite half full. The little man said, “Ah, visitors. Be welcome, be welcome. I am Doctor Amos Peabody, general surgeon and physician of Baltimore, Maryland.”
Longarm looked down at him. “You’re a long way from home, Doctor.”
The little man nodded. “That I am, that I am.” He made an effort to scramble to his feet, but only succeeded in reaching a kind of crouching position with his shoulder braced against the cabin wall. He peered at Rita Ann. “I do not believe I have had the pleasure of either the acquaintance of this young lady or yourself, sir.”
Longarm noticed that he didn’t slur his words, but he didn’t seem to have a great deal of control over his body. He did, however, manage to keep one hand clamped around the neck of the mescal bottle. Longarm said, “No need to be formal, Doctor Peabody. I just had some sore feet and wondered if you might have any blister ointment, but I see you don’t have your bag with you.”
Doctor Peabody had gradually worked his way up to an erect position, though he was not deserting the support of the cabin wall. He said, “I have my bag, sir, certainly. No medical man would be without that necessary accessory. Unfortunately, I do not have the appropriate balm for your ailment. But I recommend goose grease, sir. Yessir, goose grease, finest remedy for iritated flesh.”
Longarm laughed slightly. “They may have geese in Baltimore, Doctor, but ain’t many in Arizona Territory.”
“Of course not, of course not!” Doctor Peabody said. “What was I thinking? Then chicken fat. Yessir, chicken fat. And unless my ears have deceived me today, there are sounds of the very fowl somewhere about the place.”
Longarm nodded at the bottle. “That mescal you’re drinking, Doctor?”
Doctor Peabody held the bottle up and started as if surprised to find it in his hand. “By the heavens you are right, sir. Mescal it is. And home-brewed by the Mexicans who occupy this hutch. Fine stuff it is, sir. I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t seem to have a clean glass. Or any glass for that matter.” He looked vaguely around. Then he shoved the bottle toward Longarm. “Of course, if you don’t mind a libation straight from the gourd, as the saying goes …”
Longarm shook his head and stepped back. “No, I reckon not, Doctor. That stuff is too strong for me.” He stood a moment, studying the doctor’s face. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Certainly the doctor looked disreputable enough, with several days’ growth of whiskers on his face and his thinning hair awry and mussed. It was the eyes, Longarm thought. There was something not quite right about the man’s eyes. But he couldn’t see what it was. Maybe it was the way his glasses were teetering at such an odd angle. Maybe that was it. Rita Ann had said the doctor had lost his glasses in the scuffle. Maybe it was the bent frames. Longarm said, “Well, we’ll let you get back to it, Doctor. Just wanted to see what you might have in the medicine line.”
The doctor straightened himself a little more. “Be glad to have a look at your ailing members,” he said. “Very nominal charge.”
“No, I’m all right for now,” Longarm said. He took Rita Ann by the arm and turned her away. “We’ll be seeing you, Doctor.”
But Peabody swayed away from the cabin wall and peered at Rita Ann over his crooked spectacles. He said, “This young lady, sir—I am being presumptuous, I know—but I have the most compelling feeling that I have had the pleasure of her company before.”
Rita Ann said quickly, “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve never been to Baltimore.”
The doctor scratched at his scraggly whiskers with his free hand and said, “My dear, the fair city of Baltimore hasn’t been my abode in many a sorrowful year. No, I meant more recently.” He swayed and caught himself against the wall.
Longarm said, “Reckon not, Doctor. You have yourself a real pleasant evening.”
“And the best to you, sir, and your lady friend.”
When they were far enough away Rita Ann said with a laugh, “The crazy old bastard doesn’t remember that we were on the same coach for nearly a night and half a day.”
“Maybe so,” Longarm said thoughtfully. “Or he may well have known who you were. Something about the good doctor bothers me.”
She laughed again. “Why should you give him a moment’s notice? Heavens, that old drunk? Looks like he’s been rolled in the dirt.”
Longarm glanced at her gown. “Speaking of that. Ain’t you got any other clothes? That gown makes you look like a widow. Ain’t you got anything with a little color in it?”
She made a face. “My bag went with the coach. In the confusion and arguing I never did get it off. I guess it’s nearly to Mexico now. I wore this dress on purpose. I didn’t want to stir up any jealousy or hot blood from anybody. I figured the less notice I called to myself the better off I’d be.”
“How you going to get your bag back?”
“Mister Higgins was kind enough to wire down to the end of the line and ask them to send it back. I hope it arrives on that northbound stage day after tomorrow. If it doesn’t…” She shrugged. “Every stitch I own is in there.”
They had supper that night with Mr. and Mrs. Higgins in their quarters, eating at the little dining table in the outer room. Mrs. Higgins fixed chicken and dumplings, and topped it off with a peach cobbler she’d made out of canned peaches. Longarm pronounced it as maybe the finest meal he had ever had. And in a way it was, given the situation and the setting. Mrs. Higgins said, “Oh, how you do take on.” But she pinked with pleasure and made sure his coffee cup stayed full.
Later he got her aside and talked about Rita Ann’s plight. He said, “The poor girl is going around dressed like a street beggar or somebody about to go into a nunnery. That sure ain’t calculated to lift her spirits. I know ya’ll ain’t of a size, but is they any chance you might have something she could cut down to fit her? I’d be more than glad to pay.”
Mrs. Higgins said, “Let me think a minute.” She wrinkled her brow for a time. Then she said, “You know, there was a Spanish woman through here a few years back. Spanish, not Mexican. She had to get off the coach on account of not feeling well. Had a world of luggage. If I remember right there was one case got left, and I think it had some gowns in it and maybe even some clean linen. We notified the company but they was never a word said or a claim put in. Now if I can just remember where I stored that valise.”