The Prairie Doctor's Bride. Kathryn Albright
Melbourne climbed the two steps to the small stage and stood there, gripping the lapels of his silk vest and surveying the group. He waved his hands for everyone to quiet down. Then he motioned to the new brides to come to the front of the room. He introduced each of the five and said a small bit about them.
The two older women stood next to each other, looking poised and lovely, while the three younger ones clustered together in a clutch like barnyard chickens. He grimaced. Perhaps that was a bit critical. Being observant was a good attribute to have in medicine, but not in social gatherings. It reminded him of something his father would say.
The mayor cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ll have the bachelors that donated to the Betterment Committee, and only those, line up now and introduce yourselves briefly to the ladies,” he announced.
Nelson counted twenty men who lined up. He stepped toward the back. As the men made their way across the stage, some were quiet and sincere, some cracked a joke to cover up their nervousness and some were eager to the point of embarrassing. It came to him that he was none of these. He simply wanted to assess each woman as unemotionally as possible. That way he could be sure his decision would be based on facts and not feelings.
His turn finally arrived, and he made his way down the row of five women, making mental notes as he went from one to the next.
Miss Vandersohn: Chestnut hair, dark green eyes. Petite like a china doll and well dressed. Beautiful.
Miss Pratt: The tallest. Older, black-haired and stern of face. Instead of curtsying as did the others, she gave a sharp nod of her head.
Miss O’Rourke: Older, blonde with cornflower blue eyes, with lines at the corner of her eyes. Pleasant-looking. He wondered what had happened that some young man hadn’t already snatched her up.
Miss Simcock: Youngest in appearance and a dishwater blonde. She blushed to the roots of her hair when he asked her a simple question and then barely got an answer out due to giggling nervously.
Miss Weber: Younger, chestnut hair, gray eyes, wine-red hat and cloak. Shy. By the shiny indentation on each side of her nose, she appeared to wear glasses, although she wasn’t wearing them now.
The moment the introductions were complete, the mayor motioned for the music to start. The bachelors surged back toward the five brides, in their excitement trying to muscle him to the side of the room. He didn’t budge.
He stood there a few minutes more, observing the hoopla. None of the women would be able to focus on him with all the other men in the room. He would rather visit them at another time when he wouldn’t be interrupted.
“That exam table working out for you, Doc?” Jackson Miller said as he approached.
Nelson shook his hand. “Fine. Not a splinter gained among any of my patients so far. Fine work.”
“Glad to hear it.”
They stood there a moment, arms crossed over their chests, watching the melee in communal silence.
“I wonder what surprises will appear among these women,” Miller mused out loud. “I don’t think any will match the amount that my Maggie made.”
Nelson chuckled. “Probably not. I can’t see any of these landing in jail.”
Miller’s wife had arrived on the first bride train, along with her sister, Mary. At the time, Nelson had had issues with the tonic Maggie tried to pass off as a remedy for just about every conceivable ailment. A family recipe, she’d said. Since then, the reticence she once carried toward him had begun to ease. A good thing because Miller’s Cabinetry Shop stood near his office and they crossed paths often.
“I don’t see you rushing in with the rest,” Miller said. “No one strikes your fancy?”
Nelson surveyed the women once more. “Five does.”
Miller’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Five? As in number five? Better not let the lady hear you call her that.”
“Miss Weber. I think she’ll do just fine.”
“Do?”
Nelson nodded but didn’t elaborate on his thoughts. She was young and strong. She was also quiet. He liked that. If she took instruction well, he could train her precisely how he wanted things done.
The clear bell tones of a woman laughing sounded. Number One drew his gaze. She was a stunning woman. There was a reason he didn’t want a beautiful woman, but at that moment it escaped him.
Beside him, Jackson took a long swallow of beer.
“On second thought,” Nelson said, “I think I’ll start with Miss Vandersohn and go through them one at a time.”
Jackson spit out his mouthful of brew. “You’re serious!”
“Yep. That’s how I’ll do it. Steady and methodical.”
A slow grin grew on Jackson’s face. “I’d try to warn you off such a crazy plan where women are concerned, but I don’t think it would do any good. Take it from me. You don’t stand a chance if the right one comes along.”
“We’ll see who is right when the time comes.”
“Sure, Doc,” Jackson said, shaking his head as he walked away.
A sense of purpose filled Nelson. By the end of the month, per their contract, the women would have to marry. He had four weeks to get this part of his life in order. He would call on Miss Vandersohn first thing in the morning and start things moving forward. A stroll perhaps to show her the sights of the town.
His decision made, he spun on his heels and headed out the door, leaving the gaiety and the noise behind him.
Sylvia was no good at waiting. When she drove her wagon into town just after dusk, she had expected Doc Graham to be home. She hadn’t a clue how she was going to convince him to travel all the way to her place. She had nothing to pay him with for his services. All she knew was that she was scared for Tommy and with each minute her desperation was growing bigger and bigger. It might end up choking her if the doc didn’t show up soon.
She paced the length of his walkway a few times, her arms crossed over her chest. Then she sat down on his steps. For all of one minute. Then she was up pacing again.
On her way to town, she’d come face-to-face with the fact that a man who wore a silk vest, a man who had an office, was not likely to come over to her side of the river to see her son. He’d expect payment, which she didn’t have. He’d probably expect her to bring her boy to him—and she wasn’t going to move Tommy. She might hurt him worse.
At least she was sure this was the doc’s house. A brass sign on the porch said Doctor’s Office plain as could be. She’d checked three other houses, peeking in the darkened windows, before she was sure she had the right house. There was some big hullabaloo happening down in the new building next to the bank. Maybe that was where everyone was. Maybe she should check down there.
She hated to walk right in on the entire town. Her whole life she’d made it a point to avoid as much of the people here as she could.
But what if he never came back tonight? What if he was out on a call? Maybe somebody was having a baby. Or somebody was sick. The thoughts plagued her.
Maybe she should have asked Carl for help... She recoiled at that when she remembered how he had treated Tommy at the mercantile. No... Carl would have made things worse. She’d done the only thing she could and that was to leave Tommy by himself. Doing that weighed on her something fierce. He was too hurt to wander off. The way he had whimpered once, like a kicked puppy, just crumpled her insides. He needed the doc. She couldn’t go back without him.
A shout came from somewhere on the main street. Then a door squeaked open and shut on one of the