The Prairie Doctor’s Bride. Kathryn Albright
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I would be impossible to live with. That I am married to my work.”
Her astonishment must have showed on her face. His eyes twinkled—again! “You mean a woman said that straight to your face? In my mind, a man who takes his work seriously is a good thing.”
“She said it right after I’d missed our third social engagement at the opera house in Boston. A patient was in need of my medical skills. Josephine called off the courtship that night. Looking back, it was smart—a practical response. At that time, I didn’t have time for a wife or a family. And she was correct. I did put my career ahead of everything else.”
She thought about Tommy. “Well! There are some who would appreciate that quality in a man. I surely would.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment but studied her silently.
Her cheeks heated. Guess the conversation was getting a mite personal. She finished her toast in one dry mouthful.
“Doc, you could easily get tricked and end up married to a woman who can’t cook but one thing. Or you could end up with a nag. A woman wanting to marry might not show you that part of herself until after the vows are said.”
“True. It is a risk—for me as well as the woman.”
“It’s a scary thing to contemplate,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t figure why anyone would do it.” She and Thomas had known each other since they were babies. Their families had grown up in the woods there in Virginia. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t known him. Meeting a stranger and deciding to spend the rest of your life with them seemed like a crazy thing to do.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that there are many valid reasons. A person must realize their circumstances need changing and then they do something about it. Not all women are that brave.”
She hadn’t thought of it like that—being brave. “You got a gal in mind?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I want to speak with each one individually. I have certain qualities I’m looking for to narrow my choice down to the best woman.”
She’d never heard of such a thing. “I guess you’ve figured a way to find a flower among the weeds, then. Could be smart,” she said slowly.
He raised a dark brow. “I’m so glad you approve.”
He was teasing her, she realized, her heart skipping a beat. Like they were friends. Imagine that! A man like him—smart, intelligent and handsome.
In the next breath, she reined in her delight. Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’re a grown woman with a seven-year-old son. No doctor is going to want to be friends with you. He’s just being kind.
She stood abruptly. “It’s time I got you back.”
She checked on her son once more and then grabbed her coat. When the doc stood and reached out to help her with her sleeve, she pulled back from him with a sharp tug. “I can handle it myself.” She plopped her old hat on her head for emphasis.
He looked to be about to say something but then turned to her son. “In the future, please refrain from climbing on the shed and scaring your mother. You may like to think you are a cat with nine lives to spare, but you are a boy with only one life. You need to take care of it.”
Sylvia looked from her son to the big man. He took a lot on himself to school her young ’un. Schoolin’ Tommy was her place. But what he said had truth in it.
“I’ll get my mule,” she said.
She hitched Berta to the wagon and fifteen minutes later they arrived at the river. They journeyed along a short piece, among the fledgling cottonwood trees that grew only along the southern bank. Buds had formed. Wouldn’t be long before leaves unfurled.
Nothing like her insides that were curled up tight.
Now that the deed was done, she couldn’t let loose of fretting about it. Would he tell the sheriff what she’d done? Would the entire town know that he’d spent the whole night at her place?
“Why was Carl Caulder bothering you at the mercantile?”
She tightened her grip on the reins and kept her gaze on the road. “We go way back. He’s Tommy’s uncle and thinks that gives him the right to boss me and Tommy around.”
His brows drew together. “I wouldn’t call what he was doing bossing. More like bullying.”
“I know. He’s hard to take,” she whispered. “Especially when he’s feeling all high-and-mighty and had a couple drinks. His brother wasn’t anything like him. Thomas was a good man.”
They came to the ferry crossing. Thankfully, the flat raft remained on this side of the river. She started to lead Berta down the bank and onto the wooden planks when she felt the doc’s hand on her arm.
“I’ll find my own way back from here.”
She held the reins taut while he climbed from the wagon and grabbed his doctorin’ bag. He returned to her side of the wagon and looked up at her, squinting against the sunlight. “I’ll check on Tommy in a day or two.”
“No need. I can care for my son now.”
He frowned. “I should be aware of how he heals.”
“It ain’t... It ain’t that I don’t appreciate the thought.”
“Then what is the problem?”
The reason stared him in the face! Didn’t he have any sensibilities? She let a twig drift past as she contemplated how to answer him. Seemed all she could do was be blunt.
“I can’t pay you.”
“I thought you understood. That isn’t a problem.”
“It is for me,” she hurried to say. “It may be late in comin’, but I pay my debts.”
It pained her to have to ask, but she had to know where things stood between them. “You going to tell about this? The sheriff—or anyone else?”
He pressed his lips together. “I won’t say anything to Sheriff Baniff. And I can’t see why it is anybody else’s business.”
It was as if the notion of being improper was not something he ever dealt with. Here she’d been dealing with it practically every minute of her entire life. She swallowed again. “I—I mean about stayin’ the night.”
“Oh. No one will hear a word of it from me.”
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Believe me. It’s an easy decision. Should I say anything, questions will arise not only about your virtue, but also about my inability to thwart my kidnapping. People would know that you, a small mite of a woman, bested me. I can’t afford that. My reputation might never recover.”
He was teasing her in that way of his. Nothing seemed to ruffle him. In every moment, he was confident and strong. She wished she could soak up some of that. It would be nice to feel that sure of herself again. Guess when Thomas left her, any sureness she possessed had evaporated.
She smiled slightly at his quip. “Thank you kindly for your help.”
He stepped onto the ferry and slipped the tether line off the stump. Taking hold of the heavy rope that was suspended across the river to the opposite bank, he put his back into it and pulled hard. The flat raft eased out into the current and carried him across the water.
* * *
Once ashore on the north bank, Nelson followed the wagon trail toward Oak Grove.
The early-morning sun warmed his back and quickly melted the thin crust of snow into a slushy mess. After he brushed past, the weeds and grass lining the trail sprang back to attention with only a few casualties bent and crushed under his boots. He was vaguely aware of this while he walked and mulled over the strange encounter with Miss