A Bride in the Bargain (43 page)
Read A Bride in the Bargain Online
Authors: Deeanne Gist
“Mrs. Denton, please have a seat.” The doctor was much older than Doc Maynard. He had kind blue eyes, a bulbous nose, a gray goatee, and a severely receding hairline.
Joe held the chair while she settled. Instead of sitting in the adjoining one, he stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She lifted her hands to his and squeezed his fingers.
Drawing a fresh piece of paper from the bottom of a pile, Dr. Shepard put on his glasses, dipped his pen in an inkwell, and began to write. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, Mrs. Denton, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember exactly when the symptoms began?”
She looked up at Joe. “I don’t remember having any while I was at your house. Do you?”
He shook his head.
“No, I’m sure of it. I didn’t start feeling ill until I returned to town. That would have been mid-August.”
The doctor scribbled on the page, his pen making scratching noises in the quiet. “And your complaints included headaches, coughing, and what you call ‘breathing episodes.’ ”
“That’s right.”
“How often do they occur?”
“They were rather infrequent at first, but have steadily worsened over time.”
“Do you ever sweat at night while you sleep?”
“No.”
“Ever experience any fever?”
“No.”
“Any blood when you cough?”
“No.”
He continued to write, never once looking up. “And did the symptoms you mentioned earlier ever lapse?”
She cocked her head. “Not until last week, no.”
His scribbling stopped. “What happened last week?”
Joe proposed to me
. But she knew that wasn’t what he was asking. “The breathing episodes stopped altogether, and the coughing and headaches practically went away. At least until a few moments ago.”
He looked at her over his glasses. “A few moments ago?”
“Yes. Almost as soon as I entered the exam room, my head began to pound and I experienced shortness of breath.”
Returning his pen to its holder, he leaned back. “How did you occupy your time while you were in Seattle?”
“I was an assistant to the local doctor there.”
He raised his brows. “You’re a nurse?”
She shook her head. “No, no. I just cleaned his utensils, soothed patients, administered the chloroform. That kind of thing.”
“You went on his calls with him?”
“Only at the very beginning, and then only for about a week. After that, I helped with his scheduled surgeries.”
“In his exam room.”
“Yes.”
“Like mine?”
“One very much like yours.”
“How often?”
“Whenever he had a surgery scheduled.” Anna shrugged. “Several days throughout each week, I guess.”
“And you administered chloroform during most of those?”
“During all of them.”
“And when did you quit working for this doctor?”
“A week ago.”
“And during that week, your symptoms steadily decreased?”
“They did.”
Removing his glasses, he tapped them against his lips. “I think I can say with complete confidence, Mrs. Denton, that you do not have tuberculosis.”
Her lips parted. Surely he was mistaken. A clock on the mantel chimed three times.
Joe slid into the chair beside her. “How can that be? I’ve heard her coughs. Witnessed her breathing difficulties.”
“I’ve seen tuberculosis in every stage of the illness and in patients of all ages and sizes. Many times over. Your wife doesn’t have it.”
“But Doc Maynard is very good. Well respected.”
“Many doctors employ the ‘better safe than sorry’ philosophy. Tuberculosis is dangerous, and the earlier it’s caught, the better the chances the patient has. I think he did the right thing by recommending you take Mrs. Denton to drier climes.”
“But not anymore?”
“No. Drier climes won’t help cure your wife.”
“What will?”
“Staying away from chloroform.”
Joe frowned. “What?”
“For whatever reason, your wife’s body has a strong aversion to it.”
Anna shook her head in confusion. “What are you saying, Dr. Shepard?”
“Think back, Mrs. Denton. Were your symptoms worse while you administered the chloroform, or perhaps right after?”
She searched her mind, then turned to Joe in wonder. “Why, yes. They were.”
“And they began to improve that week you quit assisting with surgeries, correct?”
“Yes.”
“At least, they did until you entered my exam room, where I performed a surgery requiring chloroform not thirty minutes before you arrived.”
Hope began to wiggle inside her. Joe reached for her hand.
She looked at him and smiled. “That’s right.”
Dr. Shepard tossed his glasses on the desk. “Well, Mrs. Denton, I’m afraid you will have to give up any aspirations you have of becoming a doctor’s assistant. But as for your illness, so long as you stay away from chloroform, I think you will find your coughs, headaches, and breathing difficulties will all but disappear.”
Moisture rushed to her eyes. “You’re sure?”
He smiled. “Quite sure.”
Joe squeezed her hand so hard her fingers overlapped each other. The relief and joy he felt was apparent in his eyes.
“My illness has nothing to do with the climate in Seattle?” she asked the doctor.
“Not a single thing.”
“We . . . we can go back?” she whispered.
“You most certainly can.”
Unable to hold her euphoria at bay, she turned to Joe, then sucked in her breath.
Silent tears trickled down his face. “You’re going to be all right.” Taking a wobbly breath, he tugged her toward him. “You’re going to be all right.”
Smiling, she moved to his lap and let him hold her, right there in front of Dr. Shepard.
Seattle, W.T.
One week later
Red met them at the dock, assisting Anna onto the pier. “Welcome back, Miss Iv—Mrs. Denton.”
“It’s wonderful to be home, Red.” She smiled. “And please, call me Anna.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” He turned and clasped Joe’s hand for a hearty shake. “The boys and I sure were glad to get your telegram.”
“They were able to come back to work, then?”
“Every one of them. And I canceled that newspaper ad.”
They grinned at each other, then pitched together in a brief and ebullient bear hug.
The three of them traversed Occidental Avenue, Joe helping Anna dodge the logs and drift from Yesler’s Mill. She noted that Mount Rainier had come out from behind the clouds to welcome her home. She gave it a private greeting, thrilled that she would have the pleasure of being its neighbor for the rest of her life.
“I didn’t hire back Ollie,” Red continued. “Wasn’t sure what you wanted to do about the cooking.”
“Oh, I’d like to cook.” She looked up at Joe. “Can I? Do you mind?”
“That’s a lot of work, Anna. I’m not sure I want you doing all that.”
“Oh, please, Joe. I love it.”
He hesitated, then slipped his arm about her waist. “For now, then. But when the little ones start coming, we’re making other arrangements.”
Blushing, she glanced at Red, but the men were already on to other topics. It was a bit early to be thinking about little ones. For now, having the house in the woods to themselves sounded like a slice of heaven.
“Asa Mercer’s back,” Red said. “He’s reopened the university and everything.”
Joe pulled up short, causing Anna to stop, too.
“He’s back? He had the nerve to show himself around here?”
Red shrugged. “Everybody’s married up to their Mercer girls, so I guess he figured all’s well that ends well.”
“What about all the men who paid for brides and didn’t receive them?”
Red scratched his chin. “That money’s long gone, but the boys will have a reckoning, I’m sure.”
Anna gasped. “They won’t hang him or anything, will they?”
Red shook his head. “We aren’t in California, Miss—Anna. Things are a bit more civilized here in the Territory.”
For Mr. Mercer’s sake, she certainly hoped so.
“What about you?” Red asked, eyeing Joe. “You plan on saying something to him?”
“You’re dead right I do. The blighter owes me four hundred dollars.”
Red looked from Joe to Anna and back to Joe. “I think you might have a hard time collecting. I mean, after all, you married the gal he brought you.”
Joe scowled. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“It has everything to do with it. Besides, there isn’t a person in town who doesn’t know you’d put up all you had in the world for her, ’cause you already did.”
After a slight hesitation, Joe shook his head. “Well, there’s no arguing with that, I suppose.”
“You leave Mercer to the others who never got anything for their troubles. They’ll take care of him.” Red slapped him on the back. “Now, go on before you run out of daylight. I’ve got Shakespeare all harnessed up and ready.”
The rain started less than an hour after they’d left Seattle. The wagon’s canopy offered little protection from the moisture blowing in from the sides. It didn’t take long to penetrate Anna’s clothing, and try as she might, she couldn’t keep her shivers at bay.
Joe glanced at her. “Don’t you think you should put on your coat?”
She huddled inside her new wool cape. “I don’t have one.”
“I thought I gave you fabric for one.”
She nodded. “You did, but I haven’t had time to sew it up yet.”
He shrugged off his jacket and laid it on her lap. “Well, put mine on, then.”
“No, no. I’ll be fine.”
“Put it on.”
“But then you won’t have anything.”
“Put. It. On.”
“But, Joe . . .”
He turned to look at her. Slowly, slowly. “Don’t make me stop the wagon.” His voice held a mixture of teasing and seriousness.
She tilted her head. “And just what exactly do you think you’d do then, Mr. Denton?”
He gave her an exasperated look. “For the love of the saints, Anna. Put the stupid thing on.”
A breeze cut straight through her clothing. Smiling, she tucked the jacket over her shoulders. Warmth immediately encompassed her along with the now-familiar smell of cedar, which still lingered after a week away.
The farther they went, the thicker the forest grew. Many trees had long since lost their leaves, but the conifers were still verdant. Shakespeare’s hooves made a suctioning noise in the mud, lulling her with its repetitive rhythm.
Her eyes grew heavy. She allowed herself to close them for just a minute, then jerked her head up when her chin bounced.
After the third time, Joe pulled her onto his lap. “Here, little robin.”
She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.
“You’re going to tumble right off the wagon. Just close your eyes and see if you can get some sleep. We’re still a long way from home.”
A long way from home? Wrapping her arms around his waist, she snuggled close. She wasn’t a long way from home. She was already home. And there was no place she’d rather be.
The premise for this book is based on fact. Asa Mercer was a real man who did, in fact, collect three hundred dollars from the bachelors of the Washington Territory in exchange for eastern brides. I managed to find copies of a couple of contracts that Mercer used, and the contracts for the women differed considerably from the contracts for the men!
His scheme garnered quite a bit of media attention. The newspaper clippings I used were real ones, though I confess to condensing and combining a few of them in order to make them more manageable (they were
really
wordy back then). And in the case of the wedding announcement toward the end of the book, I exchanged Joe and Anna’s names for a real couple’s.
As often as I can, I try to include real anecdotes in my novels. Though Bertha Wrenne was a creation of my imagination, there was an actual account of a woman on the
Continental
who “lost” her teeth during a bout of seasickness, and the other women on the boat nicknamed her “Toothless.” There was also a woman onboard who was in active pursuit of a husband and was described in a journal as being “as old as the Flood.”
As hard as it may be to believe, the letter of warning that Anna received from her father was based on an actual letter written by a Civil War soldier to his daughter. The man was, in fact, killed and some sweet girl back in 1866 really did feel responsible for her father’s death. So tragic!
Doc Maynard was an actual person and instrumental in Seattle’s birth and growth. If you visit the city today, you’ll see his influence everywhere. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t doctoring anymore by 1866, but he was such an intriguing character that I couldn’t help but include him. I hope I did him justice.
When I started this book the only thing I knew about lumberjacks was that they were big, burly men who chopped down trees. You would not believe some of the stories I uncovered. I could never have used them in fiction—they were too unbelievable! So if you read something and thought I was exaggerating, I wasn’t.