Harriet nodded, folding her hands neatly before her apron  as she watched Mr. Ross stretch out his leg, expert eyes roaming over the angle and the relief his face showed as the weight was taken off the limb. Her warm gaze lingered a moment longer before her soft mouth pressed into a thoughtful expression. Nothing to do but treat the pain? She didn’t much care for that assessment. 

“I’ll fetch us some coffee then Mr. Ross…” 

As Harriet left the cowboy in her examination room she bustled into the kitchen at the back of suits  of offices. All medical personnel needed hot water and the likes. A kitchen was typical for this building’s use. Bringing the water to boil and setting two cups, spoons, sugar and milk on a tray in a sterile and practical manner (rather than how another lady might set it artfully) Harriet had her mind on Mr. Ross’ leg. 

She didn’t wish to think or speak ill of other doctors, but in her experience with the Army often times they were just doing what they could with too little supplies and too little time. And then afterwards…? Well they could just dole out medicines and send a broken man on his way. But Harriet’s own brothers had been injured (mentally and physically) from the war and the diagnosis of ‘nothing we can do’ was one that stuck in her throat. 

Experimenting with her brothers injuries Harriet had found several small comforts that the doctors had never mentioned to her brothers that made their daily life a little easier. But it wasn’t as if Mr. Ross had come to her asking her for help…Really she’d be poking her nose into his business…

Harriet’s office was tidy, orderly and small. Obviously the real doctor would have a larger room, newer table and supplies. Still it was clear Harriet took great pride in her vocation. The drawers that must hold the more valuable supplies were locked, the key probably with the nurse. 

The Coffee made the brunette made her way back to Mr. Ross, setting the tray down before brushing a piece of her soft hair away from her face.  “There we are Mr. Ross…” she gestured that the man could serve himself before picking up her own cup. 

“I apologize if I was bringing up an uncomfortable topic with your leg Mr. Ross. Professional curiosity is all…” She smiled politely and looked down into her cup. “My own brothers came back injured… I often think it is the injury to spirit that does the greater damage, not the physical limitations… But…” Harriet sighed and took a sip of her coffee experimentally. “There is not much I can do for that asides offer my friendship…” 

The nurse set her cup down and moved around to her counter tops, tidying up what little disorder she had created earlier in the day. “Do you like working on a ranch Mr. Ross? I find Mr. Cothran to be a very ah…” Harriet smiled and straightened a jar of cotton swabs “politely stubborn man. He must be an interesting employer…” 

The room as spic and span as it could be she turned back to face Mr. Ross, leaning against the counter top and watching him as he tried the coffee. Was it edible? Brows rose slightly at his first sip and a little line of worry between her brows disappeared as Mr. Ross did not choke on it and then die. 

This confirmed, Harriet couldn’t help but tilt her chin down and examine his leg from afar. It was with a inquisitive countenance rather than pity or even disgust as some veterans would get from their deformities. Had it broken below the knee or above? The way he held it and the way he walked made Harriet think there was something off with his actual knee as well, though that could be the way it was held due to the bone’s regrowth…