The Mail Order Midwife's Secret (Wanted: Wives In The West 2)

by Trinity Ford

  “Amen,” John repeated. “I’m sorry, Millie,” he said. “I shouldn’t have dumped all this sorrow on you.”

  “John, the world is full of sorrow,” she said. “We can’t escape it. We can only try to make things better and learn how to focus on what’s right and good. I’m glad I could be of comfort today and that you shared your grief with me. If you don’t mind me asking,” she said hesitantly, “where did you go when you left Fort Worth—and what made you come back?” She knew it was bold to ask, but he had already opened up to her.

  “Well, I’m ashamed to admit that when it happened, I went a little berserk,” he said. “I wanted revenge, and no amount of talk with Pastor Littlejohn could stop me. So I set out as a Texas Ranger again, but this time, I was looking for trouble with any Indian camp I came across. Every battle was personal for me, until one day—in the thick of a fight—I chased one of them into the brush. He got away, but there, crouched behind a bush, was a young Indian woman and her two little girls—twins, about the same age as Grace and Anna were. They were so scared. It was then that I realized how lost I was, and I got them out of harm’s way and headed straight back to Fort Worth to seek forgiveness and heal my heart.”

  Millie looked at John in awe. She had never known a man with such strength in character and such love in his heart—a man who could also admit to his wrongdoings and seek forgiveness from the Lord. John looked up at Millie for a response, but she had none. She just stared back into his eyes—her own watering up because she felt so overwhelmed, and offered a smile.

  “Enough about me,” John said. “Tell me about yourself.” John dished up the sweet blackberry cobbler Mabel had included and passed some to Millie before serving himself. Millie shifted uncomfortably on the blanket. She wasn’t sure what to say. John had been so brave opening up to her, and she desperately wanted to do the same, but it was too dangerous. If she offended the townsfolk, they might force her to leave, and she’d have nowhere to go but back to Henry, an option that was worse than death to Millie.

  “Well, I come from Kansas, as you know,” she began. “I was born and raised there—an only child. I was married before, and worked as a midwife, which I love doing.” Millie’s face flushed with embarrassment of how fake and positive she sounded. She had to fight the urge to blurt out the truth to John—whose blue eyes felt so inviting and safe. “I was married, but he passed away a year ago.” John sat silent, staring at Millie as if he were waiting for the rest of the story. Gentleman that he was, he wouldn’t pressure her, and for that, she felt grateful.

  “Enjoying Texas so far?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I came here because I love a good adventure, and I didn’t want to stay in Kansas grieving.” The grief was real, but the reason for it would stay hidden in Millie’s heart forever. She’d much rather have experienced and suffered the loss of a great love than had to endure the abuse Henry doled out on a daily basis.

  “Look at us,” John said, taking Millie’s hand in his. “Two broken hearts mending together.” Millie suddenly realized what she was doing. Her heart begged to feel this connection with another soul, but the reality of the situation was that she was married, and this couldn’t happen. She slid her hand out of John’s and stood up abruptly, averting her eyes from the pained look John had on his face. Her heart felt heavy hurting him that way, but it was for the best.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’d best be getting back to the house and rest up before tonight.”

  Chapter Nine

  John stood and gathered up the picnic before helping Millie up into the carriage. He had hoped she’d trust him enough to let her guard down, but the moment he showed affection for her, she’d startled. What’s she been through that’s caused her so much pain?

  He drove the carriage to Doc’s house and walked Millie to the door. He took her hand in his. “Thank you for a beautiful day,” he said, bowing and gently kissing her hand before turning to walk back to his carriage.

  As he hopped into the wagon to head home, he looked at Millie standing in the doorway. She waved goodbye and he tipped his hat. The feel of her soft hand in his faded as he gripped the reins of the carriage. Butterflies. Haven’t felt that in a long time. John laughed to himself as he remembered this feeling of admiration for a woman. His whole adult life, he’d either been single or with Rose, but it felt good to experience this nervousness again—the anticipation of getting to see her again later that night in the Acre. Of course he didn’t wish anyone to get hurt, but a minor scrape she could fix up would give him the chance to see her smile, hold her hand as he helped her out of the wagon, and help her build trust in him.

  John went home and slept during the rest of the day. When he awoke, the sun was setting and it was time to get dressed for work. He affixed his sheriff’s badge to his vest and put on his hat. He caught himself adjusting everything to make sure it looked just right and laughed out loud. What are you doing, John? Acting like a lovesick schoolboy. He stopped rearranging his attire and headed toward the Acre.

  It took about two hours, but eventually Doc had to be called in for an accident. Some of the boys were shooting pool and a scuffle had broken out over whose turn it was. It didn’t take much to rile up a group of cowboys when they were drunk. “He’s as crooked as a dog’s hind leg!” one man shouted as the sheriff led him from the saloon to the street to calm him down.

  “I know,” said John. “But you can’t be pulling out your knife just ‘cause someone said it’s their turn.” The other man wasn’t seriously wounded, but he’d need a stich or two when Doc arrived. John acted like his goal was to keep the man calm in the street, but he really just wanted to be on the lookout for Millie to arrive.

  Fifteen minutes later, Doc’s carriage pulled up. He hopped out and came around to the other side. “He the one who’s hurt?” Doc asked, visibly annoyed that another good night’s sleep was interrupted by a group whose tempers got the best of them.

  John looked in the carriage to see if Millie was there, but she wasn’t. “No, he’s inside,” John replied. “Millie stay home tonight?” His heart sank at the realization that he probably wouldn’t be seeing her on tonight’s watch. He hoped she hadn’t requested off to avoid him after he was so forward with her earlier in the day.

  “Nope,” answered Doc. “Has a baby to deliver over at Samuel and Hannah’s. Baby’s come a bit early. I’m heading over there myself to help out after this, so if you need me anymore tonight, that’s where I’ll be.”

  John was relieved that Millie wasn’t avoiding him. But it sure made the night drag out in the Acre. Now that he’d met her, he didn’t want to be away from her. But he knew he had to take it slow—that she was skittish about something, and he didn’t want to add to her uneasiness.

  Over the next several weeks, Millie and John saw each other almost every night. Sometimes, when a baby was being born, Millie would be noticeably absent from the Acre, and John took some ribbing about it from the regulars. Everyone knew he was smitten, and he didn’t care. She was worth it.

  He wasn’t sure she felt the same way. Every time they were alone and he started to let her know how he felt, she quickly changed the subject or ended the conversation. Even at last Sunday’s potluck dinner, she volunteered to serve the line right as he asked her to take a walk with him. The only time she seemed to feel truly comfortable was when they were around other people.

  Tonight, the air felt different in the Acre. Everyone seemed to be on edge. It was common when the cattle drivers returned from a long trip. They were weary, irritable, and just looking to unwind. Sheriff Lockhart rode into town and hadn’t been there five minutes before a fight broke out in the Peacock Saloon. Millie and Doc arrived to tend to the wounded, while the sheriff tried to separate the groups. Just as he was about to take one of them outside, he saw the man Millie was helping grab her head and try to force her to kiss him. “Come on now,” he slurred. “Don’t save all your lovin�
�� for the sheriff!”

  Millie struggled backward and John bolted across the room, grabbed the man by his shirt and pushed him backwards onto the pool table. “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome, Bart,” he said. “Time for you to leave town.”

  The man was flattened onto the table, unable to move with the sheriff’s hands on his chest. “But I live here!” he pleaded.

  “Not anymore you don’t,” the sheriff ordered. “You’d best be gone within twenty-four hours or I’ll personally escort you out.” The man looked around the room as everyone stared on at the exchange. Sheriff Lockhart slowly lifted him upright, onto his feet. “And I think you owe this lady an apology.”

  Bart took his hat off and nodded toward Millie. “Ma’am,” he said sheepishly. “I’m right sorry I acted like that with you. Please accept my apology.”

  Millie didn’t have a chance to answer. She just stood there, trembling, watching John handle the situation. “Let’s go,” the sheriff said, shoving him toward the door. Sending Bart packing may have been extreme, but nobody would lay a hand on the woman he loved ever again.

  Chapter Ten

  The room slowly returned to its usual rowdy climate, and Doc, Millie and John all walked over to the calaboose to regroup.

  “Millie,” Doc said. “You want to go on home?”

  “No, Doc,” she answered. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” It was a lie. The forced attempt at a kiss had reminded her of Henry after a night of drinking. But she wasn’t shaken by that. She’d lived through thousands of those moments. What caught her by surprise was her reaction to John coming to her rescue.

  All she’d wanted to do was run to him when it happened, bury her face in his chest and feel safe with his arms wrapped around her. But she couldn’t. John walked up to her after Doc left and, while facing her, put his hands on her shoulders and bent his head down to get her attention. She didn’t realize she’d been lost in thought, looking down, so she lifted her gaze to meet his.

  “Are you really okay?” John asked.

  The feelings were becoming more and more unbridled. The struggle to keep everything in seemed so exhausting. Her eyes welled up with tears and she nodded her head as if everything were all right. John pulled her in close and hugged her. He was a head taller than her, so her cheek nestled into his chest and her arms held onto his back tightly. Big tears fell to the ground as years of sadness and neglect washed away in his arms. They stood there silently for what she wished was a lifetime. I have to end this. It’s not fair to him, she thought.

  “Millie?” he said quietly as he pulled away from her so that he could look her in the eyes. “Marry me. Don’t work anymore. We can settle down and raise a family—you won’t have to be around this kind of stuff anymore. I love you. I’ll take care of you.”

  Millie stepped backward, shaking her head. “I can’t,” she whispered through tears.

  “Millie,” he said. “I know you have feelings for me, too—I can tell. Tell me what’s wrong and I can fix it.”

  She should have gone home when Doc asked her. She knew staying alone with John would leave her open to this discussion. Maybe part of her was ready for it—tired of being chained to a man who’d robbed her of her dreams and trust. “John,” she said. “This isn’t anything you can fix. It’s me. I have to handle it. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I…I need to go home now.” Millie grabbed her medical kit and waited by the door. John would have to escort her home since it was too dangerous for her to go alone.

  He stood still, looking as if he were trying to process everything—trying to figure out what he could do to get her to confide in him. Then he slowly walked toward the door, stopping in front of her. “I won’t pressure you,” he said. “When you’re ready, I’m here—and my love for you won’t be going anywhere, either.” He turned and walked out the door to take Millie back to the Springers’ house.

  On the way home, both John and Millie were silent. The only sounds were the hoofbeats of the horses, the roar of the cicadas, and the rumble of thunder off in the distance. Millie looked at John’s profile in the moonlight. Here was a man who was opposite of Henry in every way. He had the respect of the entire town. He was stable, steered clear of liquor and other vices, and went to church regularly. Most important, he showed love and respect toward her instead of resentment and hostility.

  Before they arrived home, Millie had made a decision. With the help of God, she would begin the process of getting free of Henry so she could make a decision about a future with John. But what would John think when he found out? Would he be angry? What about her inability to have a baby? Would that change his mind? Everything was so up in the air that it made her sick to think about. But at the same time, looking at the man sitting beside her in the carriage, she couldn’t help but envision a future as Mrs. John Lockhart.

  Pulling up to the house, John walked around to help Millie down. “John? She said, looking up into his eyes. “Don’t give up on me.”

  “Never,” he answered, lifting her hand up to kiss the back of it gently before heading back into town.

  Chapter Eleven

  Back in Kansas, Millie’s mother, Frances, had just set the table for dinner, as her husband, Raymond, required each day. Life felt so much lonelier now that Millie was gone, and it was even worse now that Raymond had befriended Henry in the process of trying to figure out where she’d gone.

  The bruise on her cheek had completely healed from the day Raymond backhanded her for lying to him about knowing of Millie’s plans to leave, but there was no way she would admit anything that would put her daughter’s safety at risk.

  He’d forbidden her to go to the post office anymore to gather the mail. He checked her belongings frequently to see if he could find a clue about Millie’s whereabouts. He frequently let Henry come over and drink with him, their voices roaring from the study as Frances listened to their plans to track down her daughter.

  “It’s been three months,” Henry seethed one night a week ago. “Your woman ain’t heard from her yet?”

  “Not that I can tell,” Raymond said. “Been going through every stitch to see if I could find a hint. Couldn’t even beat it out of her. Might not even know. Millie might have snuck off without telling her.”

  Frances listened to the conversation, her heart racing at their obsession, and cheering her daughter on for evading them and setting herself free.

  “Well, she couldn’t have gone far,” Henry said. “Her bag was in the closet with all her clothes and some money. Been holding out on me with money! That’s what makes me madder than a wet hen.”

  Frances knew that Millie hadn’t taken her belongings with her. Henry had come over that same day and thrown the bag at her feet, demanding to know what was going on. She’d played dumb, but both men knew she’d die before she gave them any information.

  She thought back to those first days, worrying and wondering if Millie had made it to Fort Worth okay. But instead of worrying about the worst of what could happen, she preferred to imagine Millie living a wonderful life—one filled with happiness and love.

  She stirred the pot for tonight’s dinner, thinking about how different life would have been if she’d not married Raymond, and chosen Isaac instead. But her parents had pressured her to marry for money instead of love, and she had broken Isaac’s heart and hoped she could find the same feelings with the suitor who could provide for her and the family she wanted to have.

  The door opened and shut, and Frances heard Raymond make his way to the dining room and sit down in his chair. She walked out with the hot plates of food and sat down in the chair at the other end of the table, facing him.

  “Set another place,” Raymond ordered.

  “Who’s coming?” she asked.

  “Don’t you worry about it,” he said. “Just do what I say.” Frances made her way to the kitchen and heard a knock on the door as Raymond got up to let the visitor in. She emerged from the kitchen with a plate in hand, only to find Henry
sitting at the table. She put the plate down and sat back in her chair, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Henry said, shaking his head at her belligerence toward him. “So what’d you need to see me about, Raymond?” He started scarfing down the meal Frances had put before him as if he hadn’t been fed in weeks. He was probably living off beans since Millie was no longer there to be his caretaker.

  Raymond grinned and slid his hand into the inside of his jacket. He pulled out an envelope and waved it back and forth slowly. “Guess who finally showed up?” Frances’ heart stopped and her breathing raced as she realized Raymond was holding a letter from her daughter. It was Millie’s handwriting. She leapt out of her chair and rushed toward Raymond to grab the letter and destroy it before he opened it, but he held her at arm’s length as he handed the letter over to Henry.

  The two men laughed as she fought to get to it before they read it. “She sure is a little spitfire, ain’t she?” Henry said, his eyes and smile broadening as he ripped the envelope open and pulled out its contents.

  “What’s it say?” Raymond asked, continuing to hold Frances at bay while the two men violated Millie’s privacy.

  “Fort Worth, Texas!” Henry shouted as if he’d just won a jackpot. “Why that little sidewinder went and snuck off all the way to Texas. Looks like she met a man, too. A sheriff. We’ll see what mister law enforcement thinks when he finds out she’s a married woman!”

  “I always knew she wasn’t honorable,” said Raymond. He let his arm down and Frances rushed toward Henry to grab the letter. He held it over her head and laughed at her, making her reach for it before dropping it on the floor and kicking it away from her.

  “I already got the information I need,” Henry said as Frances grabbed the letter and ran off to her room, slamming the door.

  Dear Mother,