For Hilda

[stand_unshaken]

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[stand_unshaken]

Rhodes doesn't have a proper doctor, but it does have Hilda Spellman. Far too nice for this part of the country, if Arthur can believe the townsfolk-- and he usually can't. But he's been lying awake at night because he can't stop fucking coughing. He hates the swampy air at their current camp, misses the mountains and lakes they used to stay at.

But Dutch has a plan. So Arthur rides into Rhodes (without the stupid Deputy Star pinned to his coat, thanks) and stops just outside the house he's heard is owned by Miss Spellman. The shop door is open, and he takes the opportunity to just walk in.

[thebubblyone]

The unfortunate reasons that Miss Spellman is not Doctor Spellman are mostly concerned with money, a general distaste towards Lady Doctors being interested in anything other than Lady Medicine, and also the fact of the entire Spellman family being chased out of England mere weeks before she earned those particular stripes.

The fact remains that out here in Rhodes, she's the closest anybody has to a qualified physician, and the locals have learned to rally around her - because she's the reason that nobody's died of complications related to a stubbed toe or anything equally preventable. Business is thriving, and her little front-of-house apothecary is clean and smells of sweet herbs. A bell chimes when the door opens, and she fairly pops up from where she's crouched behind the counter, rummaging through pill bottles.

"Hello there! You're new."

[stand_unshaken]

He clears his throat and takes his hat off, nodding in greeting. "Just passing through, miss. You Hilda Spellman?"

[thebubblyone]

"I am indeed - gosh, lamb, you sound like you've swallowed a cactus. Would you like some tea?"

The locals have adjusted to an apparently areligious woman who still uses gosh unironically.

[stand_unshaken]

The ladies Arthur usually associates with tend to be more of the god fucking damnit variety, but he can deal with a little more culture. Probably. The immediate care throws him for a loop, though, and he stammers a little.

"No-- no need to trouble yourself, miss Spellman. Just need some medicine."

[thebubblyone]

"Of course, and I need to know what I'm medicating, first!"

She comes out from behind the counter to change a sign in the window from OPEN to WITH A PATIENT - PLEASE BE PATIENT!

"What do I call you, love?"

[stand_unshaken]

"Arthur Callahan," he lies, easily, using the alias he's been using since coming to this damn town.

"I don't need nothing specific. Just-- somethin' to help me sleep, Miss."

[thebubblyone]

"Don't talk nonsense," she says, briskly ushering him into a consulting room behind the storefront. "It'd be irresponsible of me if I just gave you something to send you to dreamland while your lungs shrivel up in the real world. Take your shirt off?"

She says this without a thought in the world, already rummaging through her instruments.

[stand_unshaken]

He goes, albeit somewhat reluctantly, into the consulting room. "It's just this swamp air, it ain't nothing-- can't you give me something to put in my tea and be done with it?"

He isn't thrilled about having to take his shirt off all of a sudden.

[thebubblyone]

Hilda gestures at him with the business end of a stethoscope.

"I could put all sorts of nonsense in your tea and some of it might make you worse. Is that what you want, mister?"

[stand_unshaken]

He makes a sound that almost sounds like a growl, if that weren't a non-civilized thing to do.

"No."

Petulant. He wasn't mothered a lot, clearly-- but it's enough motivation to start taking off his vest and shirt. They're both dusty, not helping with the cough, and there's a lot of straps and buckles before he's bare-chested. He's broad and scarred so much it's clear his life hasn't been lived in peace.

[thebubblyone]

Hilda blinks several times.

"Well. My word. You've been drinking your milk, haven't you? Ah - "

She fumbles for her stethoscope, drops it, picks it up again and pops in the earpieces.

"Just breathe normally, I'm afraid the scope is a little bit cold."

[stand_unshaken]

Coffee and whiskey, mostly, but it's nice to be appreciated-- if a little awkward. He clears his throat before doing what she says, breathing normally, if a little raspily.

[stand_unshaken]

She sticks around for another day, and everyone is happy to let her. Louisa is happy to have some reassurances from someone with an almost-medical-degree, and Pearson had something on his foot needed looking at, and Charles has some wounds that needed tending to. Another night of drinking around the fire, and the next morning has Arthur waiting for her next to his horse.

"Your carriage awaits, my lady."

[thebubblyone]

Honestly, the last day-and-change has been...nice. There's something different about caring for people who are always on the move, who don't take it for granted that they'll always have someone to turn to if they're injured or sick. There's a security in sleeping in the knowledge that there's a half-dozen people with guns within easy shouting distance.

And there's also the grim finality of knowing that nobody can come after her for money, when everything she had has been burned to charcoal.

And then there's Arthur, who's just...lovely, in his gruff and unshaven and needs-to-stop-smoking way.

"My carriage - you stop," she giggles at him, and goes about getting herself situated.

[stand_unshaken]

"Best I could do," he says, with a grin that he hides behind his hand. He puts her meager belongings behind her on the horse, and then swings up himself.

"Hold on. Road's bumpy in the woods here."

[thebubblyone]

"Yes, sir."

She puts her hands, carefully, on his waist - there's really nothing else to hang on to.

"Are they...dangerous? The woods?"

[stand_unshaken]

"Dangerous? Nah. Those dumbass Klan members got a habit of showing up here, but they tend to set themselves on fire before they can do any real harm."

True story. Also, they're both white, so they're safe from them. He spurs the horse into a light trot and gets them out of camp.

"You lookin' forward to seeing your niece again?"

[thebubblyone]

"Yes. God, yes." She sighs. "I'm sure she's got all sorts of friends in town now and won't want to be bothered by her old auntie, but...I just want to know she's alright, you know? She rushes into things half-cocked all the bloomin' time."

[stand_unshaken]

"Remind me of what she's doin' there again? City's a dangerous place for a gal like that."

[thebubblyone]

"Making her fortune?" Hilda sighs. "She has a friend who moved there with her family, apparently she's gotten her some work at a bookstore. Hopefully she's got the sense to stay out of trouble."

[stand_unshaken]

"Easy for a young lady to get into it. Just make sure you don't push her into danger's arms just out of defiance."

A few more minutes' ride has them out of the woods and along the plantation fields. They'll have to head through the dense swampland to get to St. Denis.

[thebubblyone]

Hilda has already resolved to disapprove of absolutely nothing Sabrina tells her she's been up to - if anything, if she can play up her enthusiasm for a few bad ideas hard enough, maybe she'll abandon them altogether.

The new environment gives her pause.

"...what's the wildlife like in these parts, lamb?"

[stand_unshaken]

"Likely to bite," he says, easily. "But I got a fast horse and a lot of ammo stocked up. No need to worry."

He almost reaches back to pat her knee, but no- she's a lady.

[thebubblyone]

That's a shame, because this lady might have liked a reassuring knee pat.

"I trust you," she says, quietly. It's been a very long time since she's been able to say that to someone and mean it.