The Montana Doctor's Bride (New Brides of Montana)

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The Montana Doctor's Bride (New Brides of Montana) Page 2

by Susan Leigh Carlton


  “I just don’t know, Elizabeth,” he said.

  In a wistful voice, she said, “I hoped you would stay here.”

  He heard just the words, not the longing.

  A budding relationship…

  “Elizabeth, I’ve decided to rent my house out. It is just too big for me. I only use the bedroom and occasionally the kitchen,” Carter said one evening.

  “Where will you live?” she asked.

  “I’m thinking about taking a room at the boarding house on Frederick road, until I definitely decide what I’m going to do.”

  “I’ve thought about taking in boarders,” she said. “Instead of being in the boarding house with strangers, you could take space here, and you could have your office here. That way, I could help, and it would supplement my widow’s pension. It would be no trouble for you to move and it would keep me from having strangers in my home.

  “You wouldn’t have to cook, not that you do much of that anyway,” she laughed.

  “What would the townspeople say, with me living here and all?” he asked.

  “Most of them would see the doctor helping out the widow woman and serving the community. You’re the best doctor in the county and the people need you.” I need you, I’m lonely. She left her thought unsaid.

  The next day, he said, “I’d like to give it a try, Elizabeth. I still think I would like to go west. They just discovered gold in Montana, and found silver too.

  “When can we start?” he asked.

  “Would today be too soon?”

  He laughed. ‘If I’m to practice medicine, I’ll need to get my instruments cleaned and sterilized, and get some medicines. Then I’ll hang out my shingle. I came across it the other day, when I was cleaning out the back room.”

  “I’m so glad you decided this way. I think you will be happy here.”

  Chapter 4: Practicing Medicine

  Doctor Jim Gilbride’s Office…

  “Jim, I’ve decided to delay my decision. He laughed. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it. I just can’t make up my mind. Part of me wants to go west; Elizabeth Cartwright has offered me the use of part of her home as an office. I’m going to rent out my house, and live in the office.

  “I don’t want to take your patients, Jim, but if you have any overflow, send them to me.”

  “You got more experience during your time in the Army than I’ve had in my lifetime. I want to slow down, and with your surgical experience, you are far superior to what I am.”

  “Yeah, I’m an expert at whacking off legs. Send me all of your Minie ball wounds. I’m an expert in those too,” he said bitterly.

  “Elizabeth would make you a good wife, Carter,” he said.

  “In my mind, I’ve just lost my wife. I am not looking to remarry,” he said.

  “I understand,” Jim said.

  With the patients sent him by Dr. Gilbride along with those that discovered him by word of mouth, Carter found himself seeing ten or more patients a day. It was easy to see he could make a living here.

  Elizabeth was in heaven. Her life had a purpose now. She helped him in the office, and went with him on house calls. Her assistance was particularly valuable in the treatment of female patients. Carter had not treated female patients since he was conscripted into the army. One of the difficulties he encountered in his new civilian practice was treating women. Victorian modesty prevented nakedness, and it was necessary to perform examinations beneath the many layers of clothing they wore. He always insisted on having Elizabeth in the room during such examinations.

  Elizabeth went along with him on deliveries. On most of these, he performed the delivery beneath the clothing. On the way back to the office and home, one evening after performing a difficult delivery that involved a breech, Elizabeth put her hand on his, and said, “That was exhilarating! I can see what makes medicine such an attractive profession. People are entrusting you with their lives and the lives of their loved ones.”

  “It isn’t so exhilarating when you lose one. It hits you right in the gut. Some of them you don’t forget,” he said.

  Even after months of working and living in close proximity to each other, Carter still treated her like a neighbor, showing no interest in her as a woman. One evening, as they sat in the living room, after dinner, she said, “You go to Lucy’s grave often don’t you?”

  “I guess I do. Coming home to Lucy was what kept me going through all of the blood and gore. I still haven’t accepted that she’s gone forever.”

  “You need to let her go and get on with your life. You haven’t even considered marrying again, have you?”

  “I haven’t. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up again.” He got up and went to his room, not noticing the moisture growing in her eyes.

  A coolness between them developed over the next few days. Carter was not present for most of the meals. Unless there was a female patient present, he hardly saw Elizabeth. One evening, after arguing with herself, she broached the subject of his distance. “I offended you with my advice, Carter, and I apologize. I’m concerned about your well-being. You seem somewhere far away. I enjoyed helping you, and felt I was contributing to your work, but now, you’re shutting me out. What can I do?”

  “Look, I know I’m not good company. I have a lot on my mind. I’ve been going to the library and reading about the western territories. I’ve spoken with the surgeon general’s office and inquired about being a contract surgeon in the Montana Territory. They have a need, because of their frequent conflicts with the Indian tribes.

  “It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s what I want to do.”

  “What about the patients you have here. They depend on you. Dr. Gilbride depends on you.”

  “That can’t be helped. I told Jim from the outset that I wanted to go west. With the Homestead Act and the Exemption act, I can get a good bit of free land. I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at cattle raising,”

  “You’d just walk away from medicine. You’re a fool, Carter. Lucy would be ashamed of you.”

  “You leave Lucy out of this,” he snapped. “If she hadn’t died, she would have seen what the war has done to me, and she would have understood.”

  For the rest of the week, he told his patients he would be closing his practice and referred them to Jim Gilbride, On Friday, he removed his shingle, and prepared to move his clothing items to the boarding house.

  At the bank, he arranged for them to continue the management of the funds from the rental of his house. The banker he had spoken with on occasion, verified they had a correspondent bank in Helena, enabling him to have funds transferred from his Rockville account to the new account he would open in Helena.

  “I will make arrangements to remove the desk,” he told Elizabeth.

  “You don’t have to do that. Please don’t leave. I will not meddle again. I was only doing it out of friendship,” she said. “I’ve lost my husband; I can understand what you’re going through. It’s just that I’ve had longer than you to recover. I would like for you to stay, even if it’s only until you decide what you want to do.”

  “I have decided. I’ve accepted the Army’s offer to be a contract surgeon, and I will be going to Helena, Montana. I will be leaving on Monday.”

  “Oh,” she said. Then stay here until then.”

  Sunday night…

  All was in preparation for his departure the next afternoon.

  10:00PM…

  A loud pounding on the door startled him awake. He pulled on his pants and padded to the front door. A frantic man was raising his fist to pound on the door. “Doc… you gotta come help. My wife is in a bad way, she’s bleeding, bad. You have to come help,” the distraught man pleaded.

  “Come in, I’ll get dressed and go with you,” Carter said.

  He turned away toward his bedroom. “Who is it, Carter? What’s the matter?”

  Without slowing down, he said, “I don’t know him, but he says his wife is bleeding badly. Will you go with m
e?”

  “Yes, of course, I’ll get dressed.”

  In less than ten minutes, they were in the buggy and following the man. “Hurry, Doc. She’s in the bedroom. The midwife is with her.

  When they entered the bedroom, they saw the bed sheets were covered with blood; the wife was pale from the loss of so much blood. “What can you tell me?” he asked the midwife.

  “She began having pain. They thought she had gone into labor. When I got here, she was bleeding heavily, so I sent him after you. It’s not something I’ve ever seen before,” she said.

  “Would you leave the room, please?” he asked the husband. “Turning to Elizabeth, he said, “I think the placenta has ruptured. I’ll have to cut. Would you get the ether, please?”

  He turned to the husband, “Sir, You have to leave the room. I need some hot water to wash my hands. I’m going to have to operate, and you can’t be here for that. Now go, we can’t lose any more time. He administered the anaesthetic, and then sliced through the abdominal wall and into the uterus. Working as fast as he could, to stanch the bleeding, he said aloud, “The placenta has separated from the uterine wall. That’s the reason for all of the blood.” He packed gauze pads around the area, but was unable to stop the bleeding. He removed the lifeless fetus. “It’s oxygen deprived, and is still born.” He handed the fetus to the midwife.

  After an hour, he turned to Elizabeth and the midwife. “With no blood to the fetus, there was no way for it to survive. The mother lost too much blood. She’s gone too.” He looked at his watch. “I pronounce her time of death at 1:12AM.

  “I’ll tell her husband.” He left to perform the saddest duty any doctor has, and one that never gets any easier.

  He walked into the outer room. The husband jumped up. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she, Doc? She’s going to be okay, right?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t even know your name. There’s no easy way to say this. We did everything we could. She lost too much of her blood to survive.”

  “How? Why?” The distraught man asked.

  “We don’t know why these things happen, but the placenta ruptured and she lost her blood through the tear.”

  It was two hours before they were able to return home. Elizabeth was still crying when they entered the house. Carter removed his bloody smock and wrapped it in an old newspaper. He washed up and went to bed. Why do I do this, he asked himself.

  He was in bed, unable to fall asleep, when Elizabeth entered the room. She asked the same question he had asked himself. “How do you do this?” she asked. “Why does God allow this to happen?” She sat on the side of the bed.

  “Carter, I don’t want to be alone. Would you hold me please? Just for a while.”

  He opened his arms and she came into them, her body wracking with the uncontrollable sobs. She clung to him fiercely, fitting her body against his. The sobbing finally stopped, and she fell asleep.

  Chapter 5: Time To Leave

  It was still dark when Elizabeth stirred. She started when she realized she is in Carter’s arms and in his bed. Then she remembered the circumstances that led to her being here.

  The movement roused him; the arms that had comforted her, now embrace her. Her head fit perfectly in the hollow of his neck and shoulders. In what seemed to be a natural actual act, she lightly kissed his neck. Pulling her to him, he pressed his mouth to hers, his lips parting hers in a massage that sent her reeling. The touch sent tremors racing throughout her body. She returned the kiss. It had been more than two years since she had been kissed. She was shocked at her response to his touch. It brought her dormant senses to life.

  His hand cupped her breast, causing them to surge at the intimacy of his touch. He unbuttoned the top of her gown. Slowly. One button at a time. His hand slid inside and contacted the sensitive skin of her breast. In a slow, circular motion, he massaged the smooth, sensitive mound, as low, soft moans escaped her lips.

  Her nightgown had crept up with the movement, and she felt the firmness of his staff against her thigh. He began to slip his hand beneath the raised gown, moving slowly upward. As his fingers crept upward, she felt herself become moist, increasing as she found his manhood and began stroking, marvelling at the speed with which it hardened.

  He raised himself and using both hands, slid her pantaloons down, he removed his shorts, and rolled over, lowering himself on her. Now he lifted her gown above her hips, as she squirmed beneath him. His hard body was atop her. It was flesh against flesh; man against woman. She gasped as he entered her folds and began moving. She arched her back to meet him, moving against his thrusts. She began moving faster as her emotions took over and drove her to completion. She continued moving as she felt him tense and begin pulsing.

  In the afterglow of the lovemaking, Elizabeth felt herself relaxing, her tensions washed away. After a few minutes, she got out of the bed and made her way to her room, wondering at the lack of remorse for the activity in which she had just participated. I needed that, she thought. After what we went through last night, it seemed natural. I needed comforting and he obliged. There was nothing wrong with what we did.

  * * *

  In the kitchen, she had just put the coffee on to boil when she heard sounds from the back. Carter was up. He came down the hall, and into the kitchen. “Elizabeth, I…”

  “Don’t say anything, please. After that poor woman last night, I needed to be close to someone and you were there. What happened, happened. I have no regrets, and you shouldn’t either.”

  She poured a cup of coffee and handed the steaming cup to him. “What time do you have to leave?”

  “The train leaves at two,” he said.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said. “It’s been nice having you around, I hope you find what you’re looking for, I truly do.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t even know what it is; I just feel it’s something I have to do. Just so you know, I didn’t sell the house, whatever it is might even be here. If it is, then I will have a place to come back to.

  “Would you like for me to write or would that bother you?” he asked.

  “Please write. We’ve known each other for a long time. As a friend, I care about what happens to you, and would like to know you’re well.”

  “I appreciate all the help you’ve been to me. I realize I’ve taken advantage of your willingness to help, but thank you.”

  “Until that poor woman died last night, I enjoyed being a part of your work. After going through last night, I don’t see how you, or any doctor can do it. The image of her husband will be with me for a long time.”

  “I can’t say you get used to it, because I never have. You just push on. I need to get moving. I want to go by the cemetery. I need to say goodbye to Lucy.”

  Noon. Elizabeth’s house…

  “Your carriage is here, Carter, she called out.”

  He had a carpetbag and a small trunk. The trunk contained his instruments and some medicines. He carried them to the front door. “Thank you again, Elizabeth. I’ll write.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s not the proper thing to do, but would you kiss me goodbye?” she asked.

  He took her in his arms, and kissed her gently. She tightened her arms around his neck, and took the kiss deeper, low, soft sounds came from deep within her, as she did so.

  “Be well,” she said, “and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Thank you, Elizabeth. You’ve been a good friend,” he said, and gathered his things and walked through the door to the waiting carriage.

  On the way to the train depot, he took a long look at the rundown buildings. Only a few had been restored to their pre-war condition. As he passed Jim Gilbride’s office, he could see a lamp burning in the window.

  Even though it’s the weekend, he’s probably taking care of a patient. He’s going to be busier with me leaving. Goodbye, old friend. I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need to put this behind me, he thought to himself.


  The trip to Montana took six days with the last three on a stagecoach. Upon arrival, he took a room in the newly built International Hotel, with the intention of moving once he was set on what he was going to do.

  At the bank, he met the owner, and said, “I’m Doctor Carter Palmer. He gave the owner of the bank the letter of introduction from his Rockville bank. “I would like to open an account,” he said. “I believe you’re a correspondent with my bank in Maryland.”

  “Cal Hawkins,” the man said. “I’m the owner of the bank. I would have to check, but we are correspondent with many of the eastern banks. I can open an account for you. How much were you thinking of depositing with us.”

 

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