The white-haired physician’s face was red and covered with a sheen of sweat. He had his coat over one arm and his bag in the other. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

“I wouldn’t go in there, if I were you,” Mauldin said to Dovie.

“I hadn’t planned to,” she replied.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” he went on. “Might be better for both of you if you let him drink a bit. It may calm him down.”

“My husband drinks all day whether I allow it or not,” she said. “His drinking is rarely better for anyone.”

“I’d best be going,” the doctor said. He started for the door.

“He’s dying, isn’t he?” Dove asked.

Dr. Mauldin slowly turned around. “He believes he’s getting better.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

The doctor’s shoulders slumped. “What he’s afflicted with doesn’t get better,” he said. “It only gets worse. He should know that, but he doesn’t want to. Once it starts to affect the eyes and brain, the end is coming. But there’s no telling how soon it’ll take him. Could be a few months, or it could be a few years.”

Dovie lifted her chin. “And the likelihood I’ve contracted it?”

“It’s a disease that hides, Mrs. Shipley,” he said. “Sometimes, you don’t even know you have it for many years once you’ve contracted it. After that, it comes and goes. Your husband likely had it most of his life. If you’ve had marital relations, no matter how long ago, I’d say it’s a fair bet you’ve got it hiding inside of you, too. I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“I’ll be going now. Call on me when he needs another dose, and I’ll be back.”

Dovie put on her shawl and went downstairs to the lobby. As she exited the hotel, she encountered Sheriff Horace Foster and his chief deputy, Eli Gaines, entering.

Gaines tipped his hat and grinned at her through his rancid jack-o’-lantern, smile. Though only in his early thirties, a lifetime of poor hygiene and heavy alcohol and tobacco use had decimated the skeletal deputy’s teeth and gums.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Shipley,” Sheriff Foster said. “How’s your husband feeling?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she said curtly.

“That’s what we came to do,” Foster said. “We heard he was feeling poorly.”

“Anyone within a half mile with a pair of ears knows he’s feeling poorly,” Dovie said. “If you’ll excuse me?” She started past them and down the hotel steps.

“I also heard your daughter is almost eighteen years old?” Gaines said.

Dovie stopped, slowly turned around, and faced him.

“My daughter’s birthday is no concern of yours, Deputy.”

“Chief Deputy,” he said. “Be sure and tell Idelle I’ll be a-calling on her, real soon.”