The Doctor's Pregnant Bride

©2019 by Stella Clark

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14

Chapter One

Becky could no longer feel her fingers as she rinsed off the breakfast dishes. The window was covered in a thin layer of frost. Winter was just beginning and, in a few weeks, the city would be blanketed with muddy snow. She was glad she would be far away, where the snow was white and food was plenty.

She waited for a lull in Mrs. Bell’s complaints about the filthiness of a new boarder. “I’ll be leaving soon,” Becky said quickly before the older lady could continue with her litany of words.

Her announcement was met with silence as the boarding-house owner contemplated her words. Becky turned from the makeshift sink to look at her landlord. Her hands, which had been busy washing mud off potatoes, now went still.

“The man sent you a proposal then?” Mrs. Bell asked.

“Yes, the day before yesterday. He sent a ticket and some money as well,” Becky explained, her chest almost exploding with joy. “He’s a doctor, too, Mrs. Bell. I never imagined myself married to a doctor.”

Dr. Karl Madden was the second gentleman Becky had corresponded with, and she had not held out much hope after the first one had ended their correspondence abruptly.

“He must be a good sort, taking you on when you’re carrying another man’s child.”

Nausea rose up her throat. She stared down at her abdomen. She was four months gone, with a small bump that raised her dress. She wondered if he would know right away that she was expecting. Her legs trembled and she pushed away thoughts of her pregnancy. “I think he’s a good man.”

“I must say that as pleased as I am for you, I do feel sad. I’ve come to depend on your company in the last two months.”

Was it really only two months since she had moved into the boarding house? It seemed much longer, especially with the way their friendship had blossomed.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Becky said, and then joked, “I know what you’ll miss the most is my help.”

“That, too,” Mrs. Bell quipped. “As much as I love my boys, I do sometimes wish our good Lord had blessed us with a girl or two. I could do with the help.”

“You’ll soon have one,” Becky said. “John is courting Magdalene, isn’t he?”

John was the Bells’ eldest son, and he worked alongside his pa in a furniture shop.

The two women spent the next half an hour discussing John and Magdalene’s courtship, breaking into laughter every so often. That was what had first drawn Becky to Mrs. Bell.

The woman could talk up a storm, and Becky wasn’t the quiet sort, either. Having no job, Becky spent a lot of time in the boarding house helping Mrs. Bell with her chores. The older woman had once tried to pay Becky, but she had refused.

She helped with the chores at the boarding house to while away the time as she waited for a proposal from Dr. Madden. Becky pinched herself to be sure she was not dreaming that her ticket was finally here. Every day that she stayed in Chicago, her panic increased as her funds dwindled.

So much had happened in such a short time. Just six months ago, she had been happily married and living in a cottage on the outskirts of the city. In a single moment, everything had changed. She had been busy preparing their supper when a loud, urgent knock had come on the door.

As soon as she saw the sheriff, she had known something had happened to Simon. Tears formed in her eyes at the memory of that fateful day.

But now, months later, she retained happy memories of her husband. Every day, the pain dwindled a little, and she hoped that going West would heal her heart completely.

A month after Simon’s death, Becky had discovered that she was carrying their child and had had to wake up from the cloud of grief and make plans. She hadn’t been able to afford the cottage, so the first thing she’d done was move to the city.

It hadn’t worked out as she’d hoped. There had been no jobs in the city, but once, while leaving another factory that had no open positions, she had eavesdropped on two girls speaking about mail-order brides. After learning as much information as she could, Becky had rushed to a newsstand and bought a Matrimonial Times newspaper.

“You be careful. And if he treats you bad, you come right back here,” Mrs. Bell said, bringing Becky back to the present.

“I will,” Becky said cheerfully, knowing she wouldn’t. She hated to be a burden to anybody, and now she vowed to work hard by helping Dr. Madden in his home and surgery.

He would not regret marrying her, and maybe they could be happy together as she and Simon had been. A sharp pain pierced her chest as an image of Simon popped in her mind.

“Will you write to me?” Mrs. Bell asked now.

“Of course I will,” Becky said, and instantly felt guilty at the fib. She wasn’t a good letter writer.

The last letter she had written to her own mother was months back to tell her about Simon.

“I’ll want to know everything, especially how you like it there,” Mrs. Bell said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Guilt flooded Becky, and she promised herself to make the effort to pen a note to the woman who had extended a hand in friendship when she had needed it so badly.

Chapter Two

“And how are you feeling today?” Karl asked his patient, trying hard to keep his voice pleasant.

Thomas Palmer slumped in his seat and adopted a sulky tone completely at odds with the behavior of a thirty-year-old man. “Today was an especially difficult day. My back hurts as do my legs.”

Karl knew for a fact that his patient had spent the previous two days fishing and hunting and then demanding that his wife be his nurse when he was at home. Despite trying his very best to appear sickly, Thomas Palmer was the picture of robustness and good health.

“I have your test results, Mr. Palmer,” Karl said, shuffling sheets of papers on his table.

“I dread to think what they might say,” Thomas Palmer said, his tone that of a person in deep mourning.

Karl leaned across the table. “Your test results are as I expected,” he said, his tone sharp. “There is only one thing wrong with you, sir, and that is laziness.”

Minutes later, Thomas Palmer left Karl’s office in a huff, mumbling about doctors who did not know their work. Karl shook his head in disgust. He had no patience for men who expected their women to take care of them while they feigned illness and pursued worldly pleasures.

He knew plenty of doctors who indulged such patients for the fees they would pay. As much as he needed to earn a living, Karl had no interest in fleecing his patients, and worse, he hated wasting hours of his precious days. There were genuine patients who needed his help, and no amount of money would tempt him to go along with Thomas Palmer’s phony illnesses.

A loud whistle interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up with a start. He let out a groan as he jumped to his feet and quickly slid his coat from a nail behind the door. He had completely forgotten the arrival of his mail-order bride.

Minutes later, Karl had locked up his office and was hurrying down the main street, headed to the depot at the edge of town. Anxiety gripped him as he neared the depot. It had sounded like the perfect solution when he had first placed the ad months ago.

He would kill two birds with one stone—have someone to help out at the clinic, and a wife, but without having to go through courtship and the heartbreak that it led to. His mind went to Anne Shields, and his chest squeezed with the memory of the heartbreak he had endured.

There was no point of thinking of that now. By getting a mail-order bride, he had protected his heart and ensured that nobody would ever hurt him again. Theirs would be a partnership, with each of them aware of their responsibilities. Karl wanted a family and, in turn, would provide Miss Becky Wade with a home and a good living.

He entered the depot just as a few people were streaming out. He was late, but only by a few minutes. He saw her standing smack in the midst of the platform, her eyes trained on the entrance. He let out a sharp intake of breath as a gust of wind threw off her bonnet, and she threw her head back and burst into laughter.

Karl hurried after the bonnet. “Here you go,” he said and handed it to Miss Wade.

As she took the bonnet, their hands touched, and Karl felt a jolt of electricity surge through his veins. Miss Wade was by no means a homely woman.

Taken aback by his reaction, Karl quickly pulled his hand back. His reaction was that of a man who had been too long without the company of a woman. She had laughing, wheat-colored eyes and the prettiest face he had ever laid eyes on. His mouth refused to move to form words.

“It’s very windy here,” she said as she tucked her hair into the bonnet. “I’m Becky Wade. And you must be Dr. Madden.”

“Yes,” Karl said finally getting his powers of speech back. “Welcome to Wyoming.”

“Thank you,” she said and proceeded to smooth down her dress.

Against his will, he followed the movements of her hands. His breath halted for a minute as his eyes rested on her stomach. A sudden coldness hit his core. It was unmistakable. Miss Wade was carrying a child. He narrowed his eyes as his medical training took over. She was over four months gone.

He dragged his eyes from her stomach back to her face. Her smile was gone now. If he had not been sure before that his eyes had been deceiving him, now he was sure they were not from her reaction. She had lied to him!

Red-hot anger flowed through his veins. His first instinct was to berate her, but he was too angry to speak. He had been taken for a fool. They had exchanged six letters between them, and she had not mentioned in any of them that she was expecting a child.

She had told him about her husband’s death months earlier and her subsequent move to the city. Now it became clear why she had been in a rush to get married rather than give herself time to mourn her husband’s death. If there was anything he despised more than laziness, it was dishonesty.

His fingers trembled. Unable to bear looking at her any longer, Karl whirled around and walked out of the depot. He was unlucky when it came to women. Otherwise, how could he have been deceived a second time? What was it about him that made women know that he was a fool when it came to relationships?

“Dr. Madden, wait!” she cried.

He stopped outside the station.

“Please let me explain,” she begged.

Chapter Three

Dr. Madden stood with his back to her in a stiff posture. She was embarrassed at having been caught in her lie so quickly, but she found his reaction exaggerated. Hadn’t women been lying to men for thousands of years? Still, she needed to be careful. If he sent her back to Chicago, she had nowhere to go and no money.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my …” she said, unable to say the word “pregnancy.”

“Why did you lie?” he asked and finally turned to look at her.

She stifled a gasp as she met his eyes. They were cold and unforgiving. Her insides trembled. Please, Lord, don’t let him send me back.

“I was desperate to leave Chicago, and if I’d told you the truth, you’d not have proposed to me.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

She broke the stare and looked away at the quaint Main Street covered with a layer of white snow. It was just as she’d imagined except for the rather rough-looking buildings. Now, she might be sent back before she even got to live in the town.

“I replied to another ad before yours, and we exchanged a few letters. When I told him I was expecting a child, he broke off our communication abruptly.”

His eyes remained unyielding, and her desperation increased. “Can’t you understand that I had to do everything to give my child a future? How would I have earned a living in my condition? The little money my husband left me was quickly dwindling. I’m sorry I lied, but I had no choice.”

His eyes softened, and hope grew in her chest.

“I can understand you wanting to do everything for your child,” he said, “but I hate lies. Let this be the last time you ever lie to me.”

“Yes, I promise Dr. Madden,” she cried.

He nodded. “Let’s go and pick up your luggage.”

He carried both of her bags easily in each of his hands, and as she hurried to keep pace with his strides, she scrutinized him from the back. She had not expected the wide shoulders and strong arms. He had the physique of a man who worked outside.

“The justice of the peace is expecting us,” he said, stopping in front of a shack made of logs with wide cracks.

She was getting married. She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling foolishly. Her heart pounded as she looked at her future husband. He was tall and so handsome in his black suit and coat. He was the opposite of her Simon in looks and behavior.

He made Simon seem like a boy with his masculinity and seriousness. There was no mistaking that Dr. Madden was a man, and her heart pounded at the thought of being his wife. He was so different from the men she had known in her life.

“Are you ready?” he asked her, his tone gentle. “We don’t have to do this now if you feel nervous.”

“Oh no!” Becky cried out. “I’m ready.”

He looked at her quizzically, and she could have kicked herself for the overly enthusiastic response. Men liked demure women, but no matter how much she tried, she could never tame herself.

“Come on then,” Dr. Madden said and pushed open the door.

He placed her luggage in the corner and greeted a bespectacled man seated behind a desk in the corner.

“Ah, Dr. Madden, I see your bride has arrived,” the man boomed as he jumped to his feet. “This won’t take long. Now, what is your name, my dear?”

It all went so quickly, and before she could gather her thoughts, they were walking out of the shack as husband and wife. She felt none of the excitement she had felt when she and Simon had gotten married. Instead, she felt relieved.

She rubbed her stomach through the light coat she wore. Her child would be safe now and well taken care of. Dr. Madden stopped in front of a two-story brick structure with a sign at the front that read, “Dr. Madden’s surgery.”

He ignored the door to the surgery and inserted a key into another door by the side.

“I live above the surgery,” he said and pushed open the door.

Becky followed him up a stairway that led into a small square landing. He placed her luggage on the floor and went through a door on the left.

“This is the parlor, and through there is the kitchen,” he said. “You can enter the kitchen through that door or the hallway.”

Her eyes took in the simple but warmly furnished parlor. She followed him to the kitchen and immediately was relieved to see the hand pump by the sink.

“The sleeping quarters and washroom are down the hallway,” Dr. Madden said. “I’m afraid we’re quite behind the East, and our privies are outside. There’s a back stairway by the kitchen.”

“That’s all right,” Becky said while attempting in vain to stifle a yawn.

“I’m sorry; you must be very tired. Come, I’ll show you to your room. I thought it might be best if we sleep separately while we get to know each other.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “Yes, thank you.”

He opened a door to reveal a neat, spacious room with an inviting bed in the middle and a wooden sink in a corner.

“I’ll leave you to get settled, and when you’re ready, there’s food in the kitchen. I asked a kind friend to have his wife prepare your first meal here; it ought to be palatable—unlike anything I’d have prepared.”

Becky chuckled. As soon as he left, she went to the bed and threw herself on top of it. All the emotions of the past few hours had drained her. Her stomach growled with hunger, but sleep seemed more urgent. She would nap for thirty minutes and then get up to eat, she thought, as she felt herself drift off to sleep.

Chapter Four

Mrs. Horace gave a yelp and moved her bleeding right leg away. He had already cleaned the wound and now just needed to stitch it. “Please, doctor, it’s very painful,” she said in a voice that told him that she was crying.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Karl said and tried to push away the sympathy lodged in his heart.

It would do his patient no good if he felt sorry for her. She had been digging for potatoes in her vegetable patch when the hoe had gone right through the shin of her right leg. She had been brought in, screaming in pain, by her two older sons.

A soft knock came from the door and before he could answer, Becky strolled in. He let out a sharp intake of breath. She had scrubbed up and looked so pretty in a woolen checked dress and her hair neatly combed back.

“May I be of some assistance?” she asked, and without waiting for an answer, she went to stand by Mrs. Horace where she lay on the examination bed. She took the older lady’s hand. “My name is Becky, and I’m Dr. Madden’s wife.”

Mrs. Horace raised her eyebrows in surprise, having forgotten her earlier pain. “Why, I didn’t know he was married.”

Becky chuckled. “I suppose it was rather fast. I’m a mail-order bride.”

“Oh really? I’ve always thought mail-order brides were so brave, going off across the country to get married to a stranger. Were you frightened coming here?”

Karl took the opportunity to arrange his patient’s leg and then continued stitching it up.

“No, I wasn’t. It was exciting coming to meet someone I had only exchanged letters with,” Becky said.

“When did you get married?” Mrs. Horace asked.

“This afternoon at the justice of the peace’s office,” Becky said.

“That’s lovely. Welcome to Wyoming. You’ll like it here,” Mrs. Horace said. “We have a wonderful community, isn’t that right, doctor?”

“Yes,” Karl said without looking up from his work.

Everyone knew each other, and they all looked out for each other. What Karl liked the most was that he enjoyed a long relationship with his patients and almost became a member of their families. If he accepted all the dinner invitations he received from his patients, he would never eat a meal in his own home.

“Where are you from, dear?” Mrs. Horace asked.

“I’m from Chicago,” Becky said.

“Oh! I have some relatives in Chicago, but I haven’t been to the East in years.”

“I don’t think a lot has changed,” Becky said. “It’s still noisy and crowded. I like it here. It’s peaceful, and people seem to be very friendly.”

Mrs. Horace winced as Karl sewed the last stitch. “We are a friendly lot. Please make sure Dr. Madden brings you to church on Sunday.”

He looked up, nodded at Becky, and flashed her a grateful smile. She reminded him so much of Anne Shields, who had started off as his nurse. She had been wonderful with the patients and had the same way about her as Becky.

“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Horace,” Becky said, moving away.

“And you too, dear.”

“That wasn’t too bad,” Karl said to Mrs. Horace as he wrapped a clean bandage over the wound.

“It was not painful at all,” she said. “You’re a good doctor.”

Karl chuckled softly to himself. Becky had been wonderful. She had soothed Mrs. Horace and kept her busy with chitchat until she had forgotten her pain.

He told Becky so later that evening when they sat down to dinner.

“Thank you so much for keeping Mrs. Horace busy while I stitched her wound.”

Her cheeks reddened. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

“Have you had any medical training?” he asked.

Most people had a revulsion for blood and people in pain. Becky had not been fazed by the sight of blood.

“No,” she said. “But I used to help in the local hospital when there was an outbreak of disease. I’d have wanted to be a nurse,” she added in a wistful tone and was apparently about to add something else. Then she stopped.

“Well,” Karl said. “You’d have made a very good nurse.”

She said thank you and lowered her eyes to her food. There was nothing else to say, and he concentrated on his food. Every so often, he looked up, and once their gazes met, they seemed to fuse before she broke the stare.

He studied her covertly as they ate. She was very pretty and had a way about her that seemed carefree. as if there was not a lot that worried her. He congratulated himself on picking a mail-order bride who could be both his wife and help him with his work at the clinic.

The only thing he had to watch out for was his feelings. He would not allow himself to develop feelings for her no matter how good she was with patients. He had married her to be his helper after all—nothing more. 

Chapter Five

Becky was grateful for the days she had helped in a Chicago hospital. It meant that the jars and bottles on the shelves in the small store in Dr. Madden’s surgery had not confused her. She looked around the gleaming examination room with satisfaction.

Every surface glistened under the glare of the lantern. The air smelled of phenol, an antiseptic used to keep hospitals clean. She threw the windows open and cold air rushed in. Outside, a new day was beginning as she carried the bucket and rug outside. Becky rinsed out the bucket and hung the rug to dry before hurrying back inside.

She heard Dr. Madden’s movements as she carried a lantern up the stairs. They met at the top of the stairs. Her heart rate increased as she took in his appearance. She fought an urge to ruffle his neatly combed hair.

“Good morning. Where are you coming from so early?” he asked with a smile.

It warmed Becky’s heart. “Just thought I’d give the surgery a good cleanup.”

He went absolutely still, and then a smile lit up his face. “Thank you very much.”

Why did she feel so shy when he looked at her like that? As if he liked her as a woman? Then she quickly remembered what he had told her in his letters. He was not looking for a romantic union. Her smile strained her facial muscles. She turned away and led the way to the kitchen.

She had prepared breakfast before going to clean the surgery and now all she had to do was to serve their tea and flapjacks. She did not need love either, Becky told herself as she sat opposite Dr. Madden at the table. What she needed was security for herself and her growing child.

Dr. Madden had given her that when he’d agreed to marry her. That was enough for her. It was odd that, even in her mind, she referred to him as ‘Dr. Madden,’ rather than by his first name. It was probably because of the formality with which they spoke amongst themselves to each other.

He had told her, in not so many words, that theirs was a partnership. Well, in that case, she would be the best unqualified nurse he had ever had.

“I prepared a mixture of phenol and used it to wipe down the surfaces and clean the floor,” Becky said as she took a bite of flapjack.

“You know how to prepare the solution?” he asked.

“Yes, I learned at the hospital I told you about,” she said.

“You’re full of surprises, Miss Wade,” he said.

“Please, call me Becky,” she offered and waited for him to reciprocate and ask her to call him Karl. He did not.

“Becky it is, then. To return to our earlier discussion, nurses do great work; it’s a shame they are very difficult to come by around these parts,” he said.

“Have you never had a nurse working with you then?” Becky asked.

He inhaled sharply, and when he looked at her, his eyes had lost the warmth they had held earlier. His stare was cold and hard. She shivered involuntarily at the change in countenance.

“I did have a nurse once. Her name was Anne Shields,” he said.

“Oh,” Becky said. “I suppose she went off and got married,” she said in a flippant tone.

A shadow of pain crossed his features, and she instantly regretted her frivolous comment.

“As a matter of fact, that is exactly what happened,” Dr. Madden said.

“So, you decided to marry someone who would hopefully help run your home and help out at the surgery?” Becky asked.

Somehow, the thought that he had wanted someone to act as a nurse bruised her feelings. It was one thing to advertise for a wife, but to secretly want a worker? She could see how he had arrived at that decision. If he married her, she would not meet someone else and go off to get married, leaving him without a nurse once again.

His gaze bounced around the kitchen as if seeing it for the first time. His discomfort told her that she had guessed correctly. A painful tightness formed in her throat, and tears jumped to her eyes. What was the matter with her?

Why would that knowledge hurt her when she herself had not been completely honest with him? If anything, her deceit was worse, Becky told herself, but that did not make the pain go away.

“Those are things in the past, and they don’t matter now,” he said. “I have an account in all the stores on Main Street; feel free to purchase anything you need for the house and also for your personal use. I know ladies like materials and other lady things.”

Becky chuckled at his description. It hit her then that the doctor was a man who had not spent a lot of time in the company of women.

“Thank you,” she said. “The pantry could do with some things from the mercantile.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “I won’t be in the surgery tomorrow as it’s the day when I see my patients who cannot come to the office.”

“Oh,” Becky said. “They must be serious cases if they cannot manage to travel here.”

He smiled. “No, most of the patients are elderly and prone to the usual maladies that come with old age.”

“How far do you go?” Becky asked, intrigued. How lovely it would be to accompany him and get a chance to familiarize herself with Wyoming.

“Would you like to come with me?” he asked. “Please don’t feel obliged to say yes. I’m used to going alone anyway.”

It was as though he had read her mind. A lightness filled her chest. “Yes, please. I’d like that very much.”

“It will be slow going because of the weather, but we should be all right if it doesn’t snow today and tonight,” Dr. Madden warned.

“I shall pray for good weather,” Becky said and then clasped her hands together as though in prayer.

He chuckled and took a last sip of his tea. “And now, I had better be going. I don’t want patients knocking on our door looking for me.”

The words “our door” left a warm feeling in Becky, and it remained with her as she went about her cleaning routine. Dr. Madden had closed himself off to love, but from what she had observed of him, he was a good man.

Theirs would be a marriage based on friendship, and there was nothing wrong with that. She would be his partner in the surgery and his wife at home. Just as he’d wanted when he had put up an ad in the Matrimonial Times. And she would get a father for her child. It would be enough for her.  

Chapter Six

As he drove the buggy down Main Street, Karl smiled when he saw Becky waiting outside the surgery, huddled in a coat. His heart pounded in anticipation of the day ahead. Usually, when he went around the county seeing patients, it was a grueling day. But this time, it felt more like an adventure.

He shook his head. He was getting fanciful as he grew older. Still, it would be nice to have Becky’s company. His eye was caught by a horse thundering from the other end of Main Street. He narrowed his eyes but could not identify the stranger atop the horse as he wore a low-lying hat.

They reached the surgery at the same time, and as he jumped out of the buggy, he recognized Arnold Porter. He was a rancher who lived a rather long way from town.

“Doctor, thank our good Lord that you’re here,” he said, sounding distressed.

“What is the matter, my good man?” Karl asked, stroking the side of Porter’s mare.

“It’s the missus, doctor. She’s in a bad way. The baby won’t come out, and she’s been at it since yesterday.”

Karl’s blood went cold. Mrs. Porter was a mother of five children with her body used to pregnancies. The baby taking more than twenty-four hours to arrive meant there was trouble. There was no time to waste.

“All right, let’s go!” he said grimly and went to help Becky into the buggy.

As they left the town behind, they were the only riders on the road. It did not help matters that slight flakes of snow had started falling.

“What happened?” Becky asked him.

“That’s Arnold Porter,” Karl explained. “His wife has been in labor since yesterday, but the child hasn’t come.”

“Is it her first babe?” Becky asked. “I heard the first one can take a long time.” She unconsciously touched her own stomach, and a wave of guilt hit him.

“I should have left you at home,” he said. “This weather is not good for someone in your condition.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide. “I’ll have you know that I’m as strong as a horse. Besides, I really wanted to come with you; it’s a chance to see Wyoming.” She beamed to reassure him further.

Admiration flowed through him. It was a rare woman who did not feel vulnerable when pregnant. Becky behaved as though pregnancy was a daily occurrence, and he found himself in awe. Still, he would make sure that she did not exert herself.

“You were telling me about Mrs. Porter,” she prompted him.

“Oh yes,” he said. “You were right in that her delivery should be easy as this will be her sixth child. If I remember correctly, there is quite a gap with the fifth one. It was a boy, and he must be about ten years old.”

Becky let out a whistle. They chatted longer about Mrs. Porter and then moved on to other topics of conversation.

“I’ve never seen such white snow,” Becky said.

Karl chuckled. “I remember how it used to be in the cities of the East when it rained. The ground would be an unsightly mess of snow and mud mashed together.”

She threw her head back and laughed. Her laughter rang in his ears like bells, and he could not help but smile in response.

“That was one thing I was really looking forward to when coming here—seeing white snow.”

Time flew by, and before Karl knew it, they were veering off the road towards the Porters’ ranch house. How time sped past when one had good company, he mused. Mr. Porter brought his horse to a stop outside the front porch and dismounted.

Karl followed suit and went around to the other side, helping Becky out.

“I’ll have someone see to the horse,” Mr. Porter called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs to the porch.

They followed him through a large welcoming parlor with a roaring fire under the stone chimney.

“She’s in the room this way,” he said.

Karl was familiar with the house layout, and they found Mrs. Porter in the last room down the hallway. She moaned slightly as he approached the bed.

“There’s some water to wash up here,” Mr. Porter said, gesturing to a pitcher and jug on the dressing table.

Karl quickly laid his medical case on a table and went to wash his hands. Without his asking, Becky followed suit, and he smiled. Had she been trained, she would have been a truly marvelous nurse. Mr. Porter left them and gently closed the door behind him.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Porter?” Karl asked as he moved to her lower body and proceeded to examine the progress of the labor.

He frowned. It was going to be a forceps labor. Mrs. Porter moaned softly in reply but did not open her eyes. It was exhaustion from trying to push her child out in the last twenty-four hours. It was imperative that they get the child out as soon as possible. It was likely that the child was also fatigued.

From his medical case, he removed a glass and a bunch of cotton wool. Then he handed a small bottle filled with chloroform to Becky. “Dip the cotton wool in chloroform and then squeeze it into the glass. We’ll give it to her to use intermittently.”

On his part, he removed a special harness he used for such deliveries.

“Mrs. Porter, can you hear me? I’m going to get the babe out of you, but I need your help.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she nodded weakly.

“Can you hold this glass? It has chloroform, and all you need to do is sniff enough of it until you feel yourself relaxing. Can you do that?” he said.

She nodded, her eyes brimming with hope and the relief of having someone who knew what they were doing.

“You’ll be all right, Mrs. Porter,” Becky said softly as she handed her the bottle.

“Ready?” Karl asked Mrs. Porter, and when she nodded, he and Becky exchanged a smile over her head.  

Before long, Karl held the baby in his hands, and a fatigued Mrs. Porter thanked both Karl and Becky, while a grateful Mr. Porter broke down. As he held his new baby girl, Becky saw the tears in his eyes.
“God bless you,” she said softly before she and Karl left the three of them alone.

Chapter Seven

The hearth fire crackled and hissed as it cast its orange flames on Becky while she bowed her face in concentration. Karl sipped at his coffee as he observed her scrunching her face, sewing in the light of the lantern. She looked so peaceful and pretty. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her.

His feelings did not surprise him after the events of the last two days. It was pure admiration. They had seen two elderly patients and Becky had been fantastic, speaking to them as he’d examined them. Then there had been the moment when she had helped him with Mrs. Porter’s forceps delivery.

She looked up suddenly. Their gazes held and something intense passed between them. She cocked her head to the side.

“If I were sick, I’d want you as my doctor,” she said in a voice that sent tremors down his spine.

He laughed nervously, unnerved by his response to her words and nearness. It was not going to be easy to keep his feelings at bay, but he knew better. Getting hurt was not something that he was going to allow to happen to him again.

“Thank you. I suppose I received ample training from my pa before I even graced the halls of any medical school,” Karl chuckled as he recalled the first time his pa had taken him to the surgery.

“How did that happen?” Becky asked.

“I always said I wanted to be a doctor like my pa when I grew up, and my ma had her heart on her only child becoming a lawman like my grandfather.”

“So, your pa wanted you to be a doctor and your ma, a lawman?” Becky asked.

He nodded, his mind going back to another place, a safer place with people who would not have hurt him in any way. “Anyway, to prove to Ma that I could be a doctor, Pa took me with him when he was going to perform an amputation.”

Becky choked on her tea. “Really? How old were you?”

“I was eight years old, and I remember being fascinated about Pa’s choice of which part of the leg to cut off.”

“Did you not faint?” Becky asked, horror in her voice.

“No, I did not. Pa must have looked at me more than a hundred times to see how I was faring during the operation. He was a proud father when he told my mother about it later that evening. That was the last time she suggested that I should become a lawman.”

Becky laughed. The conversation made him think of the child in Becky’s stomach. His gaze lowered to the slight bump on her dress.

“Have you thought of names for the child?”

A shadow crossed her eyes, and his heart went out for her. She probably missed her late husband terribly, but circumstances had forced her to become a mail-order bride. She smiled suddenly, as if making the decision to be cheerful, which tugged at his heart as well.

“I haven’t really thought of it as a real child,” she said.

He was right. Becky was a woman in mourning. “You must miss your husband very much.”

“Yes, I do. He was kindhearted, and we had grand plans for the future,” she said and shrugged. “What about yourself. Do you miss Anne Shields?”

Karl felt as though a sword had sliced through his flesh and pierced his heart. “I don’t miss her at all,” he said with more venom than he intended.

Becky’s hand flew to her mouth, but she did not manage to stifle the gasp. “Why what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” he growled. “She’s not important.”

A hurt look came over Becky’s features. His anger suddenly abated, and he felt an urge to wipe off the hurt and replace it with her smile that lit up the room.

“What I mean is that we believed different things at the time,” he tried unsuccessfully to explain.

“What kind of things?” Becky asked, intrigued.

“Well …” he said and searched his mind for the right words. “I believed that when you were courting a woman, she should not allow another man to court her.” He inhaled sharply and forced himself to continue. “I also believed that one’s friends did not go behind one’s back and court the same woman.”

Becky was silent as she absorbed what he had told her. “That was terrible! Both of them had no integrity.”

“I thought so at the time, but with the hindsight that comes with time, I see the situation differently.”

“How so?”

He wished he could change the topic, but with Becky’s deep interest, he could not do so without hurting her feelings. “I did not make myself clear to Anne that I was courting her. Anyway, when she was leaving, she said something to the effect that I hadn’t proposed yet and Dr. Brady had done so, and thus she’d felt inclined to accept his proposal.”

“He was a doctor, too?” Becky asked, her voice tinged with sympathy.

His heart hardened. The last thing he wanted from Becky was pity.

“Yes, he had come here to visit with me and help out at the surgery. Needless to say, that kind of betrayal will not happen again.”

“I see,” Becky said and got up abruptly, clutching her sewing. “I’m rather tired and shall retire to bed.”

He searched her face. It was impassive, but he knew he had said or done the wrong thing. The air around them crackled with tension. “Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, her voice cold. “After all, I’m married to a man who is determined to never open his heart to anyone.”

“I never pretended otherwise,” Karl said.

Becky glared at him, unblinking. “No, you didn’t,” she said. And then she stalked off.

Karl slumped in his chair and wondered what he could possibly have done wrong. He really did not understand the opposite gender.

Chapter Eight

Becky was still upset from the conversation with Karl the previous night as she went downstairs to the surgery. They had shared breakfast in marked silence, although he had tried to instigate a conversation. Her eyes hurt from too little sleep.

She had lain awake at night thinking of the loveless marriage that loomed ahead. It was odd how quickly she had changed her views the more she got to know Karl. At first, she had not been interested in a romantic relationship, but now she longed for it with Karl.

How would it feel if he looked at her with passion in his eyes and shared special looks with her over people’s heads? With heavy steps, she pushed open the door to the surgery and, to her surprise, there were two women, a boy, and a man seated on the reception bench.

She glanced at the time. It was only ten in the morning, and usually she only found one patient waiting or none at all.

“Good morning,” she said and as if on cue, coughs rang out in the room.

The first thing she did was to open the windows amongst mumbling from the waiting patients. Fresh cold air filled the room.

“It’s cold, Mrs. Madden,” one of the women said, and this time, it did not surprise Becky that most patients knew her name.

Word had quickly spread that Dr. Madden had married and his wife helped out at the clinic. It made her feel useful and needed when she was at the clinic rather than spending all day in the house with no children to mind.

“The fresh air will do all of us good,” Becky said briskly in a tone she had learned put a stop to any complaints.

She went to the boy and touched the back of his neck. He was burning hot. She cast a glance at Karl’s office door, firmly shut. She made the decision to interrupt him. Moving swiftly across the reception room, she knocked lightly on the door to the inner office.

“Yes?” Karl’s said in his authoritative tone that made her skin prickle with excitement in spite of herself.

Hands trembling slightly, Becky pushed the door open and peered in. “Dr. Madden, sorry to bother you,” she said, flashing a quick smile at his patient. “There’s a boy waiting, and he’s running quite a fever.”

He frowned slightly. “Can you get exact readings for me? Here’s a thermometer.”

Their hands brushed as she took the thermometer and, for a moment, the rest of the world faded as she allowed herself to drown in his bright green eyes. He broke the stare, and she turned away and softly shut the door, her chest heaving up and down.

“Let me check your temperature,” Becky said to the boy and slipped the thermometer under his tongue. She glanced at her watch, waited for a few minutes, and then removed it from his mouth.

“How is he, Mrs. Madden?” the boy’s mother asked, her face drawn with anxiety and fatigue.

Becky placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “His temperature is high, but you’re in the right place. Dr. Madden will take care of him.”

The woman nodded and sat back to wait. Becky returned to Karl’s office just as the patient was leaving.

“Here’s the reading,” she said and handed the thermometer to him.

When she had first met him, she hadn’t realized just how tall Karl was. He towered over her by almost a foot, and it made her feel safe when she stood next to him. His features creased with worry, she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

“What is it? You look worried.”

He nodded grimly. “From the number of patients, I think we have an outbreak of whooping cough.”

She had never heard of whooping cough. “Is it like a regular cough?”

“Yes and no. It starts like a normal cough but quickly gets worse and can cause death.”

Becky’s mouth went dry. That was the part she dreaded about working with patients. Losing a patient would be devastating. “How is it treated?”

“That’s the problem,” Karl said. “There’s no known cure. All we do is manage the illness by encouraging our patients to drink as many liquids as they can.”

She nodded. “I see. Shall I call in the next patient?”

“Yes,” he said, but before she could open the door, he placed a large hand on her hand. “I appreciate your hard work, Becky.”

Tears sprang to her eyes at the simple, sincere expression of gratitude. “You’re welcome,” she said and fled from the room.

She took the next patient’s temperature so that when he entered the doctor’s office, Karl had one less task to perform. It seemed that as soon as a patient left, another one entered the surgery. Becky spoke to the patients who had seen the doctor and emphasized what Karl had told her about drinking lots of liquids.

The day went by in a rush, and it was only when the last patient left at five in the evening that she realized they had not eaten lunch. She went to the store to dilute phenol which she used to thoroughly clean the reception. When she was done, she entered Karl’s office.

“Is it all right if I clean in here?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said and looked up from a large volume on his desk. “I’m trying to see if there is a specific treatment recommended for whooping cough.”

“Is there?” Becky asked hopefully.

“Not that I can see,” he said and yawned. “This medical book suggests the same thing we’re doing. Recommending a diet of liquids.”

Becky wiped down the examination bed, and soon, the room smelled of antiseptic and cleanliness.

“You’ve done well to use phenol; it will help to prevent it from spreading.”

The compliment washed away any exhaustion Becky might have been feeling. Maybe, just maybe, Karl was capable of opening his heart after all. That hope colored her cheeks as she looked at the man she was married to. She prayed things would get better, and soon.

Chapter Nine

The days blurred into each other until Karl lost track of time and days. On the third week of treating a never-ending stream of patients, and also meeting with the town officials, his body screamed with exhaustion. He was glad that the town officials were now involved, and they were helping spread the message on the care of whooping cough patients.

Still, the number of patients seemed to be increasing by the day, and he missed most of his meals. By the end of the day, he was too tired to eat, and now, he felt as if not taking care of himself was costing him. He also had another problem that he was grappling with.

Becky. Every day she helped him at the clinic, she increased her own risk of contracting whooping cough. He brought up the conversation that evening when they were eating their dinner.

“I’m not comfortable with having you around all those germs,” he said as he stifled a yawn. “You’re in a vulnerable state right now, and you ought to stay home, not be on your feet all day.”

Her spoon stopped in midair, and she stared at him with her large almond-shaped eyes wide with surprise. “I couldn’t stay up here knowing how much work you have to do. No, please don’t ask me to.”

He sighed deeply. The effort of picking up his spoon to eat seemed so much. His exhaustion was worse than he had thought. A cough got stuck in his throat, and it took a lot of effort to get it out.

“How long do you think the epidemic will last?” Becky asked.

Her voice seemed to come from far off. “If it were summer, I’d say a long time, but we’re in luck in that it’s winter. Germs do not spread easily, which means, if we’re lucky, it can disappear in a few weeks.”

The food looked delicious, but his taste buds seemed to have disappeared along with his energy. It took every ounce of willpower to finish the meal and heave himself from the chair.

“I’ll bring your tea shortly,” Becky said.

“Thank you,” Karl managed to say as he left the kitchen to the parlor and sank gratefully into a chair.

He must have fallen asleep, for the next thing he heard was Becky softly calling his name and shaking him gently.

“You don’t look well, Karl,” she said, her voice tinged with worry.

He shook the sleepiness from his head and plastered a smile on his face to reassure her. “I’m just tired, I suppose. A good night’s sleep will restore me.”

“Here’s your tea,” she said.

The few minutes he had dozed off seemed to have helped him, and the excessive weariness was gone. He sipped at his tea, grateful for the warmth coursing through his body. Becky sat in the chair opposite his, drinking her tea and observing him.

His gaze lowered to her tummy, and he noted how big it had grown. She was about six months gone, Karl mused. How had time gone by so quickly? He could not imagine a time when Becky had not been part of his life.

His eyes grew heavy and giving in to temptation, Karl closed them, telling himself it would just be for a few seconds. Sweet sleep engulfed him, and then he woke up with a start as Becky removed the mug from his hand. He snapped his eyes open, and she rested the back of her hand behind his neck.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said softly.

He allowed himself to be helped up, feeling much older than his years. He staggered to his room and almost wept at the sight of the bed looking so inviting.

“I’ll leave the door open,” Becky said and withdrew.

He shed his clothes and slipped between the covers, falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. At some point in the night, he woke up but not quite, and he thought he saw Becky. His sleep was restless and filled with terrible dreams, and he woke up with a start several times.

“Karl, here, I brought you some tea,” Becky said.

It felt as though his eyelids had been glued together, and it took a lot of effort to open them. He looked about him in confusion as his dreams and reality became mangled. Becky was the only one whose presence made sense.

“Are you all right?” she asked, and everything fell into place.

He fell back on the bed as a cough ripped through him. When it was over, he moaned in dismay. He was ill. He had contracted whooping cough. Disappointment and panic washed through him. Who would mind his patients now? He knew how weak whooping cough made a person, but perhaps he could manage a few hours at the surgery.

He pushed himself to a seated position. He shut his eyes to get his breath back. The simple act felt as though he had climbed a mountain.

“Do you want me to hold the mug for you?” Becky asked, her face etched with worry lines.

“I think I’ll manage, thank you,” Karl said. “I’ll only go to the surgery for a few hours. I don’t feel too good.”

“Yes, I noticed yesterday that it was more than exhaustion. Drink up. It’ll do you good.”

Becky echoed his advice to his patients. Drinking up was easier said than done. His body ached to curl up and fall asleep. Resolutely, he drunk his tea in several large gulps. His mind wanted to get up, but his body simply refused to obey.

“I’ll just rest for a little while,” he said, his eyes already shut.  

Chapter Ten

Becky huddled under a winter coat as she left the post office. She hoped it would be just as Karl had said and Dr. Thornton would arrive in the next couple of days. It broke her heart to turn patients away at the surgery because there was no doctor to attend to them.

She had hoped that Karl would only be bedridden for a few days, but it was a week now and he seemed to be getting worse, not better. If she hadn’t been so worried about Karl, she would have enjoyed the pristine snow covering Main Street and the bare trees.

Just the previous week, they had lost their first patient from whooping cough. She had been an older woman who lived with her son and his family, and she had picked it up from one of the children. Becky’s heart pounded as she thought of what would happen to her if Karl did not make it.

Panic gripped her chest, and she slowed her gait. Her legs trembled, and she worried that they would buckle underneath her. Where would she turn to? Sure, if it came to the worst, she could go back home. Her whole body balked at the idea, and she pushed down a rising panic in her throat.

Her mother lived with her older brother, Joshua, and his family, and returning home meant that she would be a burden. Karl had to recover. Her palms hurt from digging her nails into them.

Becky reached home, relieved to get away from the howl of the wind as it gusted with renewed force. She hurried up the stairs and after shaking off her coat, she went to Karl’s room. He lifted his head as she entered and smiled weakly at her.

“I’ve sent it,” she said to him.

He nodded. “He’ll be here in a day or so,” he said in a weak voice.

“I’ll bring you some broth now,” Becky said and fought the anxiety threatening to overwhelm her as Karl lifted a hand in protest. “Just a little,” Becky smiled.

The kitchen was warmer than the rest of the house, and she felt her whole body warm up as she worked around the fire. She had lit the stove before leaving and now all she had to do was to heat the bone broth she had cooked the previous day.

When Dr. Thornton arrived, he would examine Karl and prescribe medicine for him. The thought of an authoritative figure treating Karl comforted her greatly.

He arrived the following morning, just as Becky was preparing breakfast. The knock on the door did not surprise her, but she thought it was a patient who had not heard of Karl’s illness. She lugged her now rather protruding stomach down the stairs and opened the door.

A man with startling red curly hair stood smiling at her. He removed his hat and half bowed to her. “Good morning, ma’am, you must be Mrs. Madden. I’m Dr. Thornton. You sent me a telegram yesterday.”

Tears of relief flooded her eyes. “Oh yes, please come in. Karl is upstairs.”

He stepped in, clutching a medical bag in his left hand. She shut the door and led the way up the stairs to Karl’s room.

“I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re finished,” Becky said.

A weight lifted off her chest, she went about the rest of her chores cheerfully and even whistled as she worked. Twenty minutes later, she heard Dr. Thornton’s faltering footsteps down the hallway. She went out to meet him.

“Please come in for some breakfast,” Becky said.

“Thank you,” he said.

She filled a plate with flapjacks, placed it in front of him on the table, and poured coffee for the both of them.

“You’re not eating?” Dr. Thornton said mildly.

“I’d eaten earlier,” Becky said, telling herself she wasn’t lying because she’d taken a few bites.

“I’m sure you know that you ought to eat well, especially in your condition,” he said.

Becky’s face heated up.

“Dr. Madden must be very pleased,” he said and continued without waiting for an answer. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Becky said and took a sip of her tea. There was no need to tell him the truth.

She waited until he had had his fill of flapjacks before asking him about Karl’s health. She leaned across the table. “How is he, doctor? Will he get better?” Becky asked, unable to control the tinge of hysteria in her voice.

“He’s on the road to healing,” he said. “There is very little phlegm left in his body which means he’s on the road to recovery.”

She covered her mouth with her hand to stem the sob in her throat. Karl would be fine. She would not be homeless or left to go back home to be a burden to her brother’s family.

“Thank you,” she said with feeling.

 “You’re welcome,” he said gently. “Now I had better get to work. I’m sure there will be many patients today as soon as we put up the open sign.”

“Oh yes,” Becky said, jolted into action as she remembered all the other people who were just as worried as she had been about their loved ones. “I usually help Dr. Madden in the clinic in between my chores. If you like, we can continue with that arrangement, but I’m not a nurse.”

He beamed. “It will be nice to have a nurse of sorts. My fiancée helps me with the clinic as well. I hope we can continue with the same arrangement when we get married in a few weeks’ time.”

With Karl on the road to recovery and a doctor to treat the patients, Becky’s world righted itself again.  

Chapter Eleven

Karl’s jaw pained from clenching it. He heaved himself off the bed just as he heard their voices. The pain in his jaw increased. Deciding that he could not bear to face them just yet, he quickly returned to bed and shut his eyes.

“He’s asleep,” Becky said, and Karl detected a pleased tone.

He fought the urge to lash out. To tell them they were welcome to each other if they wanted. Except, it wasn’t really true. He hated himself for the weakness he had for Becky. He wanted her to remain his wife. The hurt he felt now was nothing compared to when Anne Shields had gone off with Dr. Brady.

He had thought it had hurt then. Now, the pain filled every pore of his being. Becky was his wife! What was the matter with them? Had they no respect for a lawful marriage?

“I’m sure he’ll be up today; the cough has more or less gone. He just needs to build up his strength,” Dr. Thornton said.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Becky said in a sweet voice she never used with him.

A burning sensation filled his chest. Bitterness swirled in his mouth. How was it possible for the same thing to happen again? Unlike the last time, when it had caught him unaware, this time he had seen it develop. They came to see him twice a day, in the morning and the evening, although Becky came many more times during the day.

Women carried a secret charm, and he could see why Dr. Thornton had become enamored with her. She spoke to him as though he was the only person that mattered.

What was their plan with Becky being a married woman and heavily pregnant? They couldn’t just take off as Anne Shields and Dr. Michael Brady had done!

“You’re welcome. Dr. Madden is a strong man; he’ll be back on his feet before too long,” Dr. Thornton said.

“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving us just yet?” Becky said in that sickly-sweet voice.

Karl felt on the verge of choking on his own jealousy.

“No, I’ll stay as long as I’m needed,” the doctor said, sounding too pleased under the circumstances.

In that moment, Karl decided he would do everything he needed to do to get his strength back. The sooner Dr. Thornton was gone, the better for all of them. Becky would be left behind to heal her broken heart alone. As for himself, he had learned a valuable lesson.

One should never let down their guard. He had come so close to developing feelings for Becky. More fool he was for thinking she was different. The only difference was that they were married, and she was tied to him whether she liked it or not.

He waited until they had left and then got up, his body weak after being wracked by disease. He had been a fool twice, but that was the last time it was going to happen. Using all his strength, Karl pushed himself to his feet and made himself walk the width of the room.

***

After three days of walking around the house, Karl felt ready to get back to work and, most importantly, for Dr. Thornton to leave.

The moment he had been waiting for soon came. He and Becky walked Dr. Thornton down the stairs. Still, Karl’s heart would not thaw, and he saw the doctor’s puzzled look after his curt responses.

“If you need me another time, I’ll be happy to come back,” Dr. Thornton said, casting a glance at Becky as the three of them stood by the front door.

Karl had no doubt that he would come back, especially with Becky here. Then a voice inside his head reminded him that Dr. Thornton had come to help, and he hadn’t known Becky then. He pushed away the train of thought that would redeem his old friend.

“Thank you,” Karl said stiffly.

They both glanced at him, and he looked away, guilt flooding him in spite of his anger. Dr. Thornton had helped him in his time of need. Why couldn’t he let go of his anger and express his gratitude properly?

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Dr. Thornton said.

Becky waited until the door shut before she turned beautiful blazing wheat-colored eyes at him. “Why were you so cold to Dr. Thornton when he has done nothing but give us his time and generosity?”

Heat flushed through his body. How dare she question his treatment of a man who had an interest in her? What did she expect? Or perhaps she thought he hadn’t noticed what had been going on under his nose the whole time? He’d have to be a fool, or blind, not to have seen the attraction between his friend and his wife.

Pain sliced across his chest. “I’ll be in the surgery,” he said curtly and yanked open the front door.

A gust of wind almost knocked him off his feet, but he quickly clutched the door frame for support.

“Are you all right?” Becky called behind him.

“Yes, of course,” he said, irritated, and caught her confused look before the door shut.

Her hurt expression followed him all the way to the surgery, and he was glad there were no patients yet. The strong smell of phenol told him that Becky had come in earlier and given the surgery a good cleaning. Guilt flooded him. He should not have snapped at her.

Sure, he was angry and had made the decision not to allow her into his heart. He would treat her like an employee and keep their conversation formal and restricted to business matters. That did not mean that he had to be rude to her.

The doorbell rang minutes later, signaling the arrival of his first patient. With relief, he went to usher them in. His emotions were a very uncomfortable subject for him, and he felt grateful at turning his attention to his patients. That was one area where he felt completely in charge.  

Chapter Twelve

“Do you need my help?” Becky asked, poking her head into the examination room.

Karl turned to look at her, and she cringed. These days, he did not look at her, he glared, and she had no idea what she had done wrong.

“No, thank you,” he said, standing by the patient on the examination bed. He looked so remote, like a stranger. It was as if she had dreamed up all those special moments they had shared earlier.

She smiled at him and got a blank look in response. Tears welling in her eyes, she shut the door. Ever since Dr. Thornton had left, Karl had completely changed from the gentleman she had married.

She felt as if the illness had taken with it the real Karl. He behaved as if he disliked her, and that disturbed her greatly. She missed the old Karl with whom conversation just flowed and there had never been an end to things to talk about with.

Her heart ached, and when he glared at her, it felt like a fresh rejection each time. Becky knew what her trouble was. She had made the mistake of falling in love with a man who would never love her back. What a fool she was! It didn’t help matters that she felt tired, clumsy, and heavy.

She only had a few more weeks to go before the child was born. What kind of family life was her child coming into, with parents who did not speak to each other? Then another thought crossed her mind. Who would Karl be to the baby since they had never spoken about it?

The patient, an older woman, left the office and Becky stood indecisively, wondering if she ought to speak to Karl. She stood outside the door, wringing her hands, before deciding against it and turning away. Feeling at loose ends, she left the surgery and headed upstairs to their apartment.

As she stepped out into Main Street, a family entering a wagon caught her eye. Snowflakes drifted gently from the sky as their laughter mixed with the sound of gentle wind. The man lifted a young boy up the wagon and then turned to his wife.

Her wrapped a hand around her waist, pulled her to him for a quick embrace, and then planted a kiss on her mouth. Rivulets of yearning raced through Becky as she watched the obvious love between the couple. The man helped his wife up into the wagon and, after looking in to ensure they were comfortable, went to the driver’s seat.

The wagon eased away, leaving Becky feeling as though she had peeked into a life that would never be hers. A longing for what she had just witnessed gripped her until it became a pain in her chest. Tears blinding her, she turned to the door and pushed it open.

Upstairs, after pacing for a few minutes, Becky decided to write letters to her mother and to Mrs. Bell.

Writing to her mother proved to be more difficult than she had thought. After informing her of Simon’s death, her mother had written to offer her condolences, and Becky had not replied. Where to start, as so much had happened since then?

She would start at the beginning, Becky decided. She told her mother how grief-stricken she had been after Simon’s death and how she had had to move into a boarding house in the city. Becky smiled as she wrote about Mrs. Bell, the boarding-house owner, and how kind she had been to her.

Shyness gripped her as she wrote about her pregnancy. It was such an intimate matter to discuss, but she did not want to hide anything. She described the process of becoming a mail-order bride and had to pause for a few seconds as she imagined her mother’s mirth.

Becky had forgotten that about her mother—that she had loved to laugh. She was a small-bodied woman who enjoyed life despite her circumstances. Horror gripped her insides. How could she have neglected to keep in touch with her mother when she had loved her and her brother so much?

With a trembling hand, Becky continued with her letter, describing Wyoming and Main Street. Perhaps one time, her mother would come and visit her. She put down the thought on paper before winding up the letter with expressions of love.

She read what she had written and as she did so, her eyes welled up again. What was the matter with her? The slightest thing overwhelmed her with emotions.

Next, Becky wrote to Mrs. Bell, asking her about the children and whether John and Magdalene had concluded their courtship and gotten married. She missed everyone and made sure to ask after all of them. Karl’s rejection made her see how little she had in her life.

The only way to remedy that was to ensure that she kept up a steady stream of communication with her friends and relatives. When her mother wrote back, Becky would write to her brother, Joshua, as well. When the envelopes were sealed and addressed, she smiled and realized that the earlier turmoil she had had in her heart was gone.

Walking to the window that overlooked the street, Becky admired the snow-covered landscape. She was in love with Karl, and there was nothing she could do to change that. Yes, he sometimes behaved dishonorably, like with Dr. Thornton.

The truth, however, was that he was a good man. He had married her even after discovering that she had deceived him. She bowed her head in shame. What a stupid thing that had been. She was lucky that he had found it in his heart to forgive her.

It would be nice to be loved back, but she had to be content with what she had. Becky mused over how much her life had changed. It was as if her dream of being a nurse had come to be. Her days were full, and she worked alongside Karl which made them even more special.

In a few weeks, she would be a mother, and her child would never want for anything. She felt a smile forming. There was a lot to be grateful for.  

Chapter Thirteen

Karl did not understand why his heart ached every time he glanced at Becky. They were in the midst of dinner and had not exchanged a dozen words. He had managed to achieve what he wanted, which was to maintain distance between himself and Becky. Why, then, did he hurt so much?

He took a last bite of his food and sat back to watch Becky as she pushed her food around the plate.

“You’re not hungry?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “No, I’m just tired.”

His medical training told him she was bound to give birth any day and his arms ached to hold and comfort her. “The baby will come soon.”

“I hope so,” she said and offered a wan smile. She pushed back her chair and heaved herself onto her feet. “I’ll clean up and go to bed.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Karl said. “Shall I bring you a mug of tea in your room?”

This time, her smile lit up her face. “Yes, that would be lovely. We can leave the dirty dishes until tomorrow when I can clean them.”

He chuckled. “I’ve washed dishes before.”

“Thank you,” she said and waddled out of the kitchen.

Karl rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and got to work. It took him a little longer to get the kitchen back to the cleanliness level that Becky kept it at. When he was done, he surveyed it and knew he was missing something but hoped that Becky would think he had done a good job.

The kettle sat by the stove, its contents still warm as he poured two cups for the both of them. He left his mug in the parlor and carried Becky’s to her room. He knocked lightly, and her response was a moan. He pushed open the door and hurried in.

She lay on the bed curled into a fetal position and moaning softly.

“Becky?”

She looked up, her face contorted with pain. “I think the babe is coming.”

In that moment, he stopped being a husband and became Becky’s doctor. “I’ll be back in a moment,” Karl said and went for his medical kit.

Hurriedly, he got everything he needed, cleaned his hands, and hurried back to Becky’s room.

“I’m going to examine you now and see the position of the babe,” he said.

She turned on her back, and their eyes met. Fear clouded her eyes, and his heart went out to her. It was a frightening experience for a woman, giving birth for the first time. He patted her arm.

“You’ll be all right,” he said.

Her face relaxed as though she had been waiting for his reassurance. Moments later, chills filled his body on noting that Becky’s baby was a breech child. The babe had not turned, and its feet showed first. Sweat trickled down his face, despite the chill of the evening.

What would he do if he lost Becky?

“Can you see the baby?” she asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Yes, the baby is fine,” he said and contemplated telling her the truth. He moved away from the foot of the bed.

“What is it?” Becky asked fearfully, gripping his arm. “I know something is wrong, Karl.”

He covered her hand with his own. “The baby has not turned its body. The feet are showing first.”

She gasped, and he knew she had understood the implications.

“Am I going to die?” she asked, her eyes wild with fear.

“We’ll have no talk of death here; we’re bringing a new life into the world,” Karl growled.

The wild look left her eyes.

“I can manage the pain,” she said.

“I know you can, but I’ll give you a glass of chloroform to inhale as you need it.”

“Thank you. I know both of us shall be fine with you here,” Becky said and held his gaze.

His heart stumbled in his chest as feelings he could not name overwhelmed him. He would do everything in his power to make it a successful birth. He gave her a last squeeze as a contraction overwhelmed her, and went to prepare what he needed.

Ten minutes later, Karl handed a glass with cotton-soaked chloroform to Becky, which she immediately held to her nose. He nodded with approval; the less pain she endured, the more she would conserve her energy.

The next several hours were the longest that Karl had ever endured. The baby would not bulge through a normal birth and by midnight, he knew he would have to use forceps, something both of them dreaded.

Becky had sniffed the chloroform sparingly to keep her consciousness, but now, he needed her asleep.

“I’ll have to use the forceps now, Becky,” he told her as she smoothed her wet hair away from her face. She looked so tired and weak.

She nodded and tried to smile. She brought the glass to her face and sniffed until she began to drift off. Karl brought his mouth to her forehead and kissed her. Tears formed in his eyes. Please, Lord, let her live. He had wasted so much time, and now, he might not get a chance to live properly with Becky as man and wife.

At that moment, Karl saw how foolish he had been. Flashes of Becky and Dr. Thornton went through his mind. With hindsight that came from the passage of time, Karl realized that his brain, brilliant when it came to medicine, had deceived him.

He was foolish when it came to matters of the heart. Love confused him, and he saw nonexistent things. There had been nothing between Becky and Dr. Thornton. She had not mentioned him once after he had left. That was not the behavior of someone in love.

He had also failed to take into account his wife’s personality. He thought back to how she treated his patients at the surgery. She was friendly, asking after their families and loved ones. Becky was a cheerful soul by nature and did everything she could to ensure people were comfortable.

She had done that with Dr. Thornton, and the fool in him had confused that for love. Shame flooded him at how foolishly he had behaved. Now, he might lose his Becky without getting a chance to shower her with his love.

Chapter Fourteen

Becky snapped awake as she heard the door opening. Her heart leapt with joy as it did every time Karl came into her room with the baby. She had lost all concept of time and day. All she knew was that Karl brought the baby in for her milk every couple of hours.

“Your mother is awake,” Karl said as Becky pulled herself to a seating position. “Let’s draw the curtains first, little one.”

Sunlight flooded the room and as Karl opened the window, sweet birdsongs reached her ears. Spring had come and, although she had missed most of it, Becky felt blessed to see another springtime. She would never take the gift of life for granted again.

I have to enjoy every moment that I’m alive, she thought, soaking in the view of Karl cradling her daughter.

“You look a lot stronger this morning,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” Becky said and smiled. Something had changed this morning. She felt as if a dark veil had been lifted.

“That’s good to hear,” Karl said. “The baby is hungry,” he said and turned to coo at the child. “Aren’t you, little one?”

It warmed Becky’s heart to see Karl’s obvious love for her child. It took a kindhearted man to love a child who was not his. She took the baby in her arms and peered at her face. She looked right back at Becky with intelligent blue eyes.

“We haven’t named her yet,” Karl said.

She had not given any thought to the baby’s name. The last days, or weeks, she had been in a fog of pain that had left no room for anything else. She still remembered the moment Karl had yanked the babe from her and the relief that followed.

After that, she had drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware when Karl brought the baby to her breast for feeding. She did not need to be told how close she had come to losing her life. She looked at Karl now, who was waiting for her to suggest a name.

His face looked thin and haggard, and she knew it had been a terrible time for him. She longed to reach out and caress his cheek, but she dared not. He was not hers to love. Theirs was a partnership, she reminded herself.

“I haven’t thought about it,” Becky admitted.

“You could name her after your mother,” he said.

“Sarah is my mother’s name,” Becky said softly.

“It’s a beautiful name,” Karl said. “Sarah Madden.”

Her heart dropped to her feet, and she looked up at Karl. She hadn’t dared hope that he would be willing to give her his name. “Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky.

His eyebrow rose. “She’s my daughter, Becky, just as you’re my beloved wife.”

Hope filled her heart when she heard the word beloved, and she looked at Karl, waiting for him to continue. Was he saying what she thought he was? He reached out and took her hand.

“Becky, I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve been so foolish. I’ve denied my feelings for you and when Dr. Thornton came, I behaved like a complete idiot. I thought the two of you had developed feelings for each other.”

“Dr. Thornton?” she said, puzzled.

Karl lowered his head. He looked like a boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“But … Dr. Thornton is engaged to someone. And besides, how can I have feelings for another man when I love my husband?” Becky said, aghast that Karl could think such a thing.

Then she remembered what he had told her about Anne Shields and immediately understood where that fear would come from. Now, he slowly raised his head and gazed at her.

“Did you just say you love your husband?”

Fear prickled her heart. Would she lose him now that she had exposed her feelings?

“Yes,” Becky said in a low voice. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Karl, and I know you can’t, or won’t, love me back, but being your wife is …”

“What are you talking about, woman?” he bellowed, making her and the suckling baby jump. “I love you more than life itself. I was a fool, Becky. I thought love was something one could turn off. You’re a beautiful person, and I beg your forgiveness for doubting your integrity.”

Tears blinded her. “I forgive you, but there’s one more thing you must do.”

“Anything, my love,” Karl said sincerely.

“Write Dr. Thornton a friendly letter just to make sure he knows all is well between you two.”

He had been so kind to them that he deserved an acknowledgement of that. He had left their home a confused man, and he did not deserve that.

“I will,” Karl said promptly.

At that moment, the newly-named Sarah moved away from Becky’s breast, and she covered herself.

“Is there space for another person in that bed?” Karl asked. “I’d like to be close to my ladies. To my two loves.”

Her face heating up from excitement and joy, Becky moved to the other side of the bed and placed Sarah in the middle. Karl slipped into the bed and lay on his side. Their gazes fused, and she felt herself becoming one with her husband. They drank each other in over the baby’s head. There were no more words needed between them. Love had won out in the end.

The End