She was in the bank, accompanied by Miss Simcock, when he ran into her. He waited for her to finish conducting her business and then approached her.
“Miss Pratt? Are you available for a stroll?”
The two women stopped abruptly. Miss Simcock giggled.
Miss Pratt looked down her long nose at him and then slowly nodded a composed, dignified greeting. “Certainly.”
Miss Simcock appeared to deflate, whether because she had hoped to be the one asked out or whether she was relieved that she wasn’t, he couldn’t be sure.
“May we see you back to the hotel?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
He held the door for the ladies. Miss Simcock turned left, back to the hotel, and he and Miss Pratt turned right and continued slowly down the boardwalk.
Miss Pratt didn’t say a word as they walked past a dog and a few children playing in the school yard. The silence between them grew awkward. He hadn’t expected this. Weren’t most women prone to talking?
“Please. I urge you to speak freely. The one month that the Betterment Committee allows you to decide on a husband and a man to decide on a bride makes it crucial that we find out if we are compatible. That cannot happen unless we talk.”
She came to a swift stop and pressed her lips together in a thin line. “That is a blunt way to put this highly uncomfortable situation.”
He hadn’t thought so. He’d simply been honest. “I tend to be direct.”
He took the moment to assess her appearance. Green eyes, just like his, his height and a long, slightly curved nose. Egads! She could be his sister!
“Now what?” she asked, stiffening. “You look as though you swallowed your tobacco.”
“I don’t chew.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I find the habit disgusting. Then what did that look mean?”
“I was noticing our...similarities.”
“Oh, that.” She raised her chin. “I noticed them immediately.”
“Then should this move into a state of matrimony and should we have children—”
Her eyes widened.
“—their looks would be a foregone conclusion.” It was an interesting possibility.
She frowned. “Perhaps as you suggest, it is best to be frank and let you know my thoughts on the matter of propagating. Your education may even allow you to comprehend what I am about to say better than the other men I have encountered here.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I want to marry. Truly I do. I have no close family. I want a companion with whom to share my life.” She took a deep breath and blew it out as if to steady herself. “However, I am not interested in the part of a marriage that happens behind the bedroom door.”
If he had been walking, he would have stumbled.
“You are shocked.”
“No...no...” Yes, yes, he was!
“Come now. I can see it on your face.”
He swallowed—an attempt to absorb her statement politely and give himself time to gather his thoughts. “I have never heard a woman speak so plainly about such things.”
“I will remind you that you asked me to speak freely.”
He huffed out a breath. Could it be that he’d come across a woman who not only looked like him but who spoke and acted like him? “Perhaps I shall choose my words more carefully.”
She bestowed a slight smile.
“Are you ready to continue with our stroll? We’ve only walked through half the town.”
“As long as we understand each other.”
They continued on their way.
It was disconcerting that Miss Pratt could be as blunt as he. Would such a trait be smart to have as a nurse?
“You’ve said the same thing to other bachelors?” he asked. He didn’t want the entire town to be aware of any arrangements they might have that were of a private nature.
“No. The men I have met have all been much more forward than you. Each one found a way to take my arm or assist me in some way that required touching. When they did that, I immediately checked them off my list. I’ve spoken to no one else about marriage except you.”
She kept a list? Another disconcerting thought. Their similarities were growing. “That is encouraging. But—am I so unlike them?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to be all that different from the others.
She arched a thin brow. “As I said—you are most direct. The others were still mentioning the weather while your conversation has already jumped beyond that to marriage. You are a gentleman. Your Eastern breeding is apparent in the way you speak and carry yourself. I would hope that means you keep this conversation we are having just between us.”
She hadn’t answered his question. Mayor Melbourne was a gentleman too, as well as Sheriff Baniff. And he could name several others who deserved that title. All were very different from each other, but he thought of them all as gentlemen.
“While we are on the subject, are there any other expectations you have of marriage?”
She shook her head. “No. I do find it interesting that you haven’t taken me back to the hotel. You must still be considering me as a possibility, which is a pleasant surprise in light of what I just said.”
More likely, it was because he was still in shock. He’d taken it as a bygone conclusion that if he married, he would have children. He wanted several. That was one of the benefits of wedded bliss. That, and the fact that he had vowed to be a better father than his own.
The distance from the boardwalk down to the road in front of Miller’s Cabinetry Shop was particularly high. Considering what she had just said, he refrained from taking her elbow to assist her. He did offer his arm, but she didn’t take it. He nodded toward the livery and began walking in that direction.
“I had expected children at some point,” he admitted. “I will have to give your condition some consideration. I also desire a companion in marriage, but equal to that, or perhaps more so, I desire a nurse in my work.”
He glanced sideways at her. His announcement hadn’t shaken her nearly as much as hers had him.
“Go on,” she said.
“I would like someone who will work beside me and help me run my office. This would entail having fresh bandages cut up, washed and rolled at all times. Watching over the patients that are in my office if I am called away on an emergency. Helping to make up medication, salves and tonics. All this would be in addition to cooking and cleaning and the general duties that wives do for their husbands.”
She drew her brows together. “And what would you be doing while I did all this?”
He thought that was obvious. “Seeing to my patients.”
“And in your free time?”
“I’ll use my free time to keep abreast of the changes in the medical field. Reading, writing articles and taking an annual trip to Denver to meet with my colleagues.”
“During which time, I would be required to remain here and keep the office in a state of tidiness?”
“I haven’t thought that far into it, but that is the general idea. I suppose some years my wife might accompany me to see the sights of the city.”
They walked silently past the livery to the railroad station, where she stopped once more. “You have given me a lot to think about.”
“As have you.” More than you know!
“I have no doubt that I could perform the duties you have mentioned.”
“In return, you would have a roof over your head and a respected standing in the community and a lifelong companion.” But he’d never considered that there wouldn’t be touching, caressing or even a kiss now and then. His first words to her about what their children would look like sounded foolish now. Yet, perhaps, if he was honest with himself, it made sense. He certainly didn’t know how to be a father. His had never been arou
nd much. The only hugs he’d received from his mother had been stiff and awkward. He had never seen his parents so much as hold hands. The marriage that Miss Pratt and he had just described to each other sounded a lot like his own parents’ marriage.
The entire thing sounded like a business proposition. His initial excitement at the thought of abiding harmoniously had been squashed with pragmatism.
Well, wasn’t that what he had originally intended? Josephine had made it clear he was not suitable marriage material. She’d called him cold. Nose in a book. Cared more for his patients than he did for her. He had hoped to move beyond that defining moment when she’d called off the courtship. He’d hoped for more warmth in a lifelong companion.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said, disheartened. “I think we both have a lot to consider.”
They started back toward the hotel.
“May I see your office before returning to the hotel?”
“Certainly. It’s only a few steps this way.”
“Everything in this town is only a few steps away,” she said flatly.
They turned down a side street and he pointed out his two-story office. It would be a breach of etiquette to take her inside with him, since she wasn’t sick or in need of his professional services, so they stood before the house and he explained the layout inside.
“I use the parlor as my waiting area. The dining ro—”
“Doc!” Rollie ran toward him with his son Wiley gathered in his arms. “He’s not breathing! Something is stuck down his throat.”
“Inside,” Nelson ordered. “Lay him on the table.” He took the steps two at a time and opened the door.
Rollie rushed through and laid his son on the exam table.
Wiley was limp, his lips turning blue and his face pale white. The hoarse wheeze of each breath filled the room as the child struggled for air.
“Do something, Doc!” Rollie cried out. “You gotta help him!”
Nelson turned Wiley facedown with his head and chest hanging over the side of the table. He pounded between the boy’s thin shoulder blades with his hand. One. Two. Three.
With the third strike of his hand, something dark popped out of the child’s mouth and landed on the floor.
Wiley coughed and sputtered and then dragged in a huge gulp of air. And then another. He started to cry. Big hiccups punctuated the space between his high-pitched wails. Sadie entered the room holding on to Wiley’s older brother, Kade.
Rollie grabbed his son and held him tight as he mouthed a prayer of thanks. Wiley’s cries gradually lessened until they were nothing but sniffles. Sadie and Kade moved in close, each of them stretching their arms around Rollie and Wiley. They all gathered in as much of each other as they could and held on.
There were tears in Sadie’s eyes. Tears that, frankly, made Nelson marvel. Sadie hadn’t been married to Rollie a year yet, and she’d taken on and loved the boys as if they were her own flesh and blood. There was something special in the family. Something Nelson suspected he would never know in his lifetime.
“Thank you, Doc.” Keeping hold of Wiley, Rollie extracted himself from the other two and pumped Nelson’s hand. “You come over to the restaurant and I’ll fix you a big meal. Anything you want. Anytime.”
“I’m glad I was here.” He took hold of Wiley’s hand. “And you, young man...don’t scare everybody like that again.”
A movement by the window made him glance there. Miss Pratt had come inside rather than head back to the hotel. She stood stiff and observant with a slight downturn to her mouth.
A better reaction than fainting.
She stepped forward. “How did this happen? Was he eating too fast? Not chewing his food?” Her tone filled with accusation.
Wiley buried his face in his father’s shoulder.
“I snuck candy from the jar,” Kade said. “I gave one to Wiley to keep him quiet.”
“You chased me!” Wiley shouted.
“You said you were going to tell anyway!” Kade shouted right back.
“You mean your brother nearly died because you wanted a sweet?” Miss Pratt asked.
Kade drew back as if he’d been slapped. His lower jaw set in defiance. “I didn’t mean to!”
From behind the boy, Sadie put her hands on Kade’s shoulders, pulling him against her skirt. “Of course you didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”
She eyed Miss Pratt with a coolness Nelson had not seen before in the woman. Sadie had always been gentle, but now she looked like a cougar ready to defend her cub.
Rollie took Kade’s hand in his and looked from Nelson to Miss Pratt. “We’ll talk about this at home. Thanks again, Doc.”
Together the family left his office.
Miss Pratt stared after them. “That boy is a menace! A thief! He nearly killed his brother and yet that woman had the nerve to be upset with me?”
“They had just been through an ordeal. Emotions, tension, all heighten at times like that.”
“But what kind of a mother is she that she wasn’t watching those boys more closely?”
“A good mother.”
Miss Pratt gasped. “Well, you see now why I have no intention of having children. They are impossible to control. An unnecessary headache.”
Her words, her attitude troubled him. She had immediately sought to place blame—and worse, she had attacked a ten-year-old with her words. Neither were the best way to handle a crisis. He walked to the door and opened it for her. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”
“How can I be comfortable staying at the hotel now?”
She had brought it on herself. It was one thing to be blunt and give her honest opinion with him. It was entirely another matter for her to behave so with his friends and neighbors. “Give Mrs. Austin time to get over her scare. It will be better.”
She swept past him.
At the door to the hotel, he stopped.
“Will we talk again?” she asked.
“Yes.” But he knew talking wouldn’t do any good. She wasn’t the right woman.
Chapter Ten
Sylvia watched Tommy as he carefully stood, holding on to the back of a chair and the edge of the table for support. His headache and dizziness still plagued him, yet he kept pushing himself to do better each time he stood. He’d make himself stand longer with each effort. He took three steps now before falling back onto the seat. Tears brimmed in his eyes. He dragged his sleeve across his face.
Times like this, she wanted to take the pain away from her baby. It hurt her, deep inside, to know there was nothing she could do. If only his father was here to help. So many times through the years, she’d wished that. She never mollycoddled her son as Carl had accused, but the line between mothering him and being tough on him had always weighed on her. Of late, with his fall, it had become so much harder. Usually, she tried to err on being tough to make up for the fact he had no father to show him the way, but she was tired of having to be strong. She just wanted to be a mother to him—not both mother and father.
Tommy’s thin little shoulders heaved as he released a sigh. “It’s taking forever. I just want it to be over.”
“I know, son. Doc said it was a bad injury—all the way down to the bone. It’ll take time, but you are doing everything you can to help yourself. I’m real proud of you for trying so hard.”
“Next time he comes, I want to show him I can do it on my own.”
His words caught at her heart. He expected the doc to come back? Doc Graham wouldn’t. She’d told him not to.
“I don’t know that he’ll be coming back. He’s got other sick people to see. People a lot sicker than you.”
Tommy scooted down in his chair and crossed his arms, his lower lip pushed out. “He’ll come back. He likes me.”
She couldn’t give her son what he wanted. It was out of her power. S
he rose from the table. “I gotta see to the animals.”
She used the outhouse and then saw to Berta, leading the mule into the shed for the night and giving her a scoopful of grain. She did the same for Penny, then sat down on the milking stool to milk her while she ate. She squirted the first milk to the side the way her mother had taught her to clean the stream. “You give good milk, my girl. Sure do appreciate your sweet butter and buttermilk.” Sylvia started humming. She rested her head on the goat’s warm back and relaxed into the milking, feeling Penny relax with her as the fullness in her udder lessened.
“Thought I’d find you out here.”
Sylvia tensed. What was Carl doing here?
“Where’s the boy?”
“Inside.”
“Then we got a moment to ourselves.”
“What do you want, Carl?”
“I came by the other night to see about things and bring you some venison. Heard a man’s voice coming from inside your place.”
Carl hadn’t come in the evening for a long time. That alone put her on edge. “Tommy got hurt. The doc came to check on him.”
“He stayed a long time.”
Not...what’s wrong with Tommy? But all about the doc. “That’s none of your business, Carl Caulder.”
“You keep forgettin’ that I look out for what’s mine.” He shut the door quietly behind him. “The way I see it, Tommy bein’ my kin and all, that makes you something too.”
She backed farther into the shed, her nerves tingly, and not in a good way. First the teasing in the mercantile and now this.
“Thought you were seeing a woman up by Fort Wallace. She might not like you stopping by.”
“Verna up and married a soldier. Ain’t seen her for three months.”
Her insides tensed. “So here you are.”
He smiled. “Here I am. And I could use some lovin’. It ain’t no crime to be a little needy now and then. Figure you might feel the same way.”
She blew out a shuddery breath. “You’re wrong. I don’t feel that way about you, Carl.”
“Now, is that any way to speak to the man that brought you meat? You know I could bring a lot more than just meat. I could make it easier on you—if you’d just soften up to me a little like you did my brother.”
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