The Doctor's Lady (4 page)

“There you go putting on airs again.” Father rolled his eyes. “You’re not the Queen of England. Your father was a chair maker. And I was only a carpenter when we got married.”

Priscilla had only a vague memory of the log cabin she’d lived in as a little girl when Allegany County had been considered New York’s western frontier. Father hadn’t had anything but his enterprising spirit. He’d staked out a claim of eighty acres. Over the years, he’d steadily acquired more land and wealth until he’d moved the family to a fine wood-framed house, only a half mile from the center of town, in the better part of Angelica.

Father continued. “I’m sure the doctor is about as decent a man as our daughter can find.”

“He studied at the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York, which is where I met him,” Dr. Baldwin added. “He got a real degree.”

“See, Mrs. White. That’s more book learning than I ever got.” Father smoothed a hand over his bulging stomach. His title of judge had come only after the townspeople had elected him to various local offices, certainly not because he’d earned a law degree.

Mother only shook her head. “If we are going to consider marriage for Priscilla, then we need to find a man devoted to the ministry.”

“But I’m not considering—”

“I said
if.
” Mother shot her a censuring glare.

Dr. Baldwin studied Mother. “Very well, Mrs. White. I understand the prestige associated with the ministry. But if you pass up this opportunity for Priscilla to marry Dr. Ernest, you will miss even greater prestige.”

“How so?”

Dr. Baldwin stood and situated his black top hat onto his head. “I think the woman Dr. Ernest marries will easily become the most famous American woman of this generation.”

Mother straightened. “Famous? What do you mean?”

Father snorted. “You got her attention now, Doctor.”

“The woman who travels to the far West with Dr. Ernest will be the first white woman ever to make the overland trip to Oregon Country and cross the Continental Divide. I have no doubt the eyes of every single person in this country will be watching her with great interest.”

A light fanned to life in Mother’s eyes—a light that made Priscilla’s heart thud with despair.

Dr. Baldwin sidled around his chair and exited into the front hallway. “It’s too bad you aren’t willing to consider him,” he called. He appeared back in the doorway, having retrieved his greatcoat from the coat stand.

“Now, wait a minute, Dr. Baldwin.” Mother stepped after him. “You’ve misunderstood me. He may not be the ideal candidate for marriage, but we are still willing to consider him.”

Priscilla jumped from the settee. She couldn’t sit back and listen to any more. “Dr. Baldwin, I’m sorry. But I can’t possibly consider going to Oregon Country with Dr. Ernest. It’s out of the question. I’m going to India.”

“I realize you had your heart set on India,” Dr. Baldwin said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But the far West is in need of teachers too.”

“Even if I agreed to go to the wilderness of Oregon Country—which I won’t—I think everyone is forgetting something very important here.” She took a deep breath to ease the strain in her back. “I can’t get married. I’m unable to . . .”

She couldn’t get the words past the tightness of her throat.

Mother was quiet for a moment. “We don’t need to tell him,” she finally said.

Priscilla gasped. “Mother!” They’d agreed those many years ago on that fateful day that they would never deceive a suitor, that it was their Christian duty to inform a prospective spouse of her condition before marriage.

Once they’d made their decision, they’d also resolved that she would remain single, that it was too risky to share the news with any man. They couldn’t chance his spurning her and then spreading rumors about her and ruining her reputation.

Dr. Baldwin cleared his throat. “You won’t need to tell Dr. Ernest anything.”

Her gaze, like her parents’, swung to the old man.

The sympathy in his eyes reached out to touch her. “You won’t need to tell him, because . . . I already have.”

“You have?” A strange tremor of anticipation rippled through her. “You told him about . . . that I can’t . . . ?”

The doctor nodded.

“And what did he say?”

“Well . . .” He fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Let’s just say I got the impression your infertility was the least of his concerns.”

“Then he’ll marry our Priscilla, even though he knows of her condition?” The hope in Mother’s voice fanned the anticipation flickering inside Priscilla.

Dr. Baldwin’s brow crinkled.

His hesitation was just enough to snuff out her glimmer of hope. She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold, as if a frigid breeze had blown through the cracks in the big parlor windows.

“He didn’t exactly say he would marry Priscilla,” the doctor said.

This was ridiculous. She refused to marry Dr. Ernest, and she had absolutely no inclination to go west. What kind of ministry could she have there compared to what she’d have in India? She started to shake her head, but Mother’s fingers dug into her shoulder and squeezed her rebuttal to the back of her throat.

“Let’s not be so dramatic about it.” Her mother smiled. “If God has ordained our Priscilla to become one of the first women to cross to the West in her quest to serve Him and save the heathen, then He’ll most certainly protect and provide for her each step of the way.”

Father shook his head. “Doctor, I’m amazed at how quickly and smoothly you convinced this woman to marry off our daughter.”

Dr. Baldwin gave a faint smile, but the light in his eyes wavered.

Priscilla tried not to squirm under her mother’s grip. “He may have convinced Mother. But there’s just one very major problem.”

“Of course there’s no problem,” Mother said quickly.

“Yes, Mother, there is.” She pushed aside that familiar helplessness—as if she were caught in a river current, trying to swim for the shore but never quite making it. “The problem is that Dr. Ernest hasn’t agreed to marry me. And I most certainly haven’t agreed to the union either.”

“He’ll be at the prayer meeting tonight, won’t he, Dr. Baldwin?” Mother’s tone was less of a question and more of a command.

“Yes,” the doctor replied, stuffing his arms into his heavy coat. “I’ll do my best to see that he comes.”

Mother bent over and looked Priscilla in the eyes. “Then we’ll dress our Priscilla up and fix her hair becomingly. All she’ll need to do is be her usual charming self.” The sternness in the depths of Mother’s gaze warned her not to disobey.

“No man has ever been able to resist Priscilla,” her mother said. “And I’m sure if she makes a little effort to win Dr. Ernest, he won’t be able to resist her either.”

E
li had known Priscilla was
pretty
, but he hadn’t realized she was captivatingly
beautiful.

His gaze slid across the meetinghouse to the side where she stood and attempted to converse with the Nez Perce boys, John and Richard. Her shimmering gown unfolded around her like the petals of a rose. The pink matched the bloom in her cheeks, almost as if she had planned it that way.

“Our Miss White certainly is fetching, isn’t she?” Dr. Baldwin patted Eli on the back.

Elaborate golden ringlets framed her face. She’d swept the rest of her hair into a swirl at the back of her head, leaving exposed a long stretch of creamy skin from her ear to her shoulder blade.

“What? Who?” Her bodice, though modest, couldn’t hide her shapely figure, one he guessed was textbook perfect.

“Miss White. She’s a beautiful young woman,” Dr. Baldwin repeated.

Eli dragged his attention away from her, back to Dr. Baldwin and the other gentleman who had stopped him with questions after the closing of the prayer meeting. Eli rubbed a hand across the scruff on his face, hoping to hide his embarrassment at being caught staring at the woman. He’d never made a practice of gawking at women and had always told himself that inner beauty mattered much more than outer.

Why, then, was he having such a hard time ignoring Priscilla White?

“I always said, it’s too bad she decided not to get married,” the gentleman said. “She’d bring some fortunate fellow a lot of pride and pleasure.”

Dr. Baldwin stuck his elbow into Eli’s side and cocked a brow.

Eli shook his head. “
Pretty
won’t get a woman west.”

“Ah.” The older gentleman’s eyes lit. “So you’re considering asking Miss White to accompany you?”

“’Course not—”

“He can’t go without a wife,” Dr. Baldwin cut in. “And I’ve been trying my best to convince him of the merits of our wonderful Miss White.”

“She’s simply perfect,” the gentleman added.

Eli forced a tight smile. “I won’t argue with either of you. She seems like a fine woman. But as I already said, Doctor, she’s not the type I need.”

He was unable to resist another glance at Priscilla. She was smiling at the Indian boys, tentatively fingering the beads and feathers at the end of John’s braid.

Eli had to give her some credit. She was the only one who’d made an effort after the service to put aside her fears and show kindness to the boys.

“Am I to understand you’ll be traveling with another missionary couple?” the older gentleman asked.

John’s dark eyes radiated excitement. Eli had no doubt Priscilla was the fairest woman the boys had ever seen, and one of the first to attempt to speak with them. Apparently she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d rattled off her qualifications—from all appearances she was every bit as pious and mission-minded as she claimed.

Too bad she was like a flower that the least heat or hardship could easily wilt or crush.

“Eli had a terrible time finding another couple willing to go,” Dr. Baldwin offered. “He located a young minister and his new wife who were planning to start a mission with the Osage in Kansas. It took some arm twisting, but we finally convinced them to change their plans and travel a little further west with Eli.”

“I can’t imagine too many people would want to risk such a dangerous journey,” the gentleman said.

Eli tore his gaze away from Priscilla, and the all-too-familiar weight of despair and irritation pressed against his sternum—irritation at the Board for their strict stipulations and frustration at the direness of his situation.

“I wasn’t planning to take another couple,” he said.

“Well, it’s probably a relief you won’t have to make the trip alone.”

Dr. Baldwin raised both brows as if to caution Eli against saying too much. And Eli swallowed his rebuttal—the argument he’d already had with the old doctor and the other Board members several times.

They believed the mission would have a much greater chance of succeeding if they sent a team.

But Eli knew better. He’d never relied upon anyone but the good Lord and the sweat of his own brow. In all his thirty-one years, he’d had to overcome one obstacle after another to make something of his life. He’d scraped and slaved to save money for an education. He’d spent hour after long hour studying, pushing himself to keep at it, even though book learning had been nearly impossible for him.

But he’d done it. Earned his doctor’s license. Made a new life for himself. On his own.

He didn’t need anyone to help him now or in the future. He was doing just fine.

“Eli’s a strong, independent man,” Dr. Baldwin said, as if he knew the thoughts running through Eli’s mind. “But I’m sure he’ll be glad for the companionship once he’s there.”

“Don’t forget, I’ll be meeting up with Parker. He’s planning to help me get the mission started.” His companion from the exploratory trip had stayed west to scout out a site for the mission. Samuel Parker had decided to live with the natives through the winter and meet up with Eli at the annual fur trappers’ Rendezvous in the Green River Valley. From there, Parker would lead the missionaries to their new home.

“I know Parker won’t stay forever, but I’ll have plenty of companionship with the natives.” The Indians might have a different culture, but they would provide enough friendship to suit him.

The tinkle of Priscilla’s laughter rose above the other voices and beckoned his attention once again. Richard was holding out a long feather from his braid. She took it and twisted it in her delicate fingers.

She tilted her head, and at that moment her gaze collided with Eli’s. Her brows lifted in surprise, as if he was the last person she’d expected to catch staring at her.

Strangely enough, he found himself wishing he could trade places with John and Richard so he could talk with her. She’d likely be much more interesting than the men at his side. She might have a smooth, genteel exterior, but earlier he’d caught a glimpse of spark underneath, and it was a spark he wouldn’t mind firing up again.

Her gaze flickered away, and the color in her cheeks blossomed.

Just then her mother grabbed her arm and whispered in her ear. Priscilla shook her head. Mrs. White’s fingers tightened around Priscilla’s puffy sleeve, and her expression hardened.

“You must obey me,” he heard the woman say. She nodded toward him, and Priscilla hesitated but finally forced herself to look at him. This time her gray blue eyes were large and soft, like those of a kitten. And the innocence and vulnerability in the wide depths twisted his gut into a slipknot.

“We’ve heard rumors,” the older gentleman said, “about the mountain men not wanting missionaries going west. They’re saying they don’t want any settlers moving there because it could interfere with their trapping. Do you think you’ll be putting yourself and your traveling companions in the middle of a growing conflict?”

“They’re afraid if we bring women, we’ll slow down their caravan. Can’t say that I blame them.”

Priscilla nibbled on her bottom lip.

He couldn’t imagine any woman—much less a woman of Priscilla’s status and beauty—anywhere near the trappers. They were the kind of men who would eat her up and spit her out.

Her mother nudged her. “Go on.”

Priscilla stumbled forward and started across the room. Her gaze locked with his, and a shy smile quivered at the corners of her mouth.

The knot in his gut pulled tighter, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but her graceful walk toward him.

“Dr. Ernest.” She stopped before him, and her smile widened.

“Miss White,” he managed.

She dipped her head and curtsied.

Mrs. White followed her daughter. “Dr. Ernest, we’d love to hear more about your noble plans to start the mission in the West.” She pulled at Priscilla’s sleeve, puffing it out. “My lovely daughter has been more excited than any of us to learn all about it.”

Priscilla’s smile faded into a tight circle, and she narrowed her eyes upon her mother.

“We were just talking about Miss White,” Dr. Baldwin said too quickly. “And saying what a fine young woman she is.”

“Wonderful.” Mrs. White’s voice was cheerful. “She is indeed a fine lady. I doubt there are many other missionary candidates as qualified as she.”

Dr. Baldwin cleared his throat and caught Mrs. White’s attention. The two exchanged a knowing glance.

Eli stared from one person to the next. What was the old doctor trying to do? Set him up with Priscilla White even though he’d made it clear she was the last woman he’d be interested in marrying?

Was Priscilla in on the scheme too?

Her eyes filled halfway with an apology before she focused on the tip of her satin slipper poking out from the folds of gauze and lace.

“Oh, I see,” he said slowly, a grin working its way to his lips. They were pushing her as much as they were him. In that case, the two of them could have a little fun with her mother and Dr. Baldwin, couldn’t they? “Since Miss White is so eager to learn about my trip . . .”

She gave the barest shake of her head. “I’m sure what Mother meant to say is that we’d all like to know how we can be praying for you during your travels.”

“For starters, you can pray the trappers don’t throw rotten eggs at me like they did last time.”

Mrs. White gasped.

Priscilla’s eyes rounded.

Eli’s grin widened. “Don’t worry. They learned to put up with me. Especially after I dug a Blackfoot arrow out of Jim Bridger’s back.”

Mrs. White’s face paled.

“If you’re at odds with the trappers, why are you riding with them?” the gentleman asked. “Surely you don’t need them now that you’ve already been once and know the way.”

“I’d go it alone if I could.” He’d leave by himself in a heartbeat if it were possible. “But there are too many hostile tribes and too many things that could go wrong. The fur trappers might be a rough bunch, but there’s safety in numbers.”

“Sounds much too dangerous,” the gentleman added. “And you’re planning to place women—a wife—into the middle of the dispute?”

“I’d prefer not to, but it doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice.”

“And who exactly are you planning to marry?”

The gentleman’s question was like salt against an open sore. “That’s still in the works—”

“As a matter of fact,” Mrs. White said, exchanging another look with Dr. Baldwin, “we’re in the process today of working out the details of the marriage plans between my daughter and Dr. Ernest.”

“You can’t be serious.” Eli stiffened. They were taking the matchmaking too far now.

“Marriage isn’t a joking matter. We’re entirely serious.” Mrs. White smiled at him with a warmth he didn’t trust. “When Dr. Baldwin brought up the idea, at first we weren’t sure if it would work.”

“’Course it won’t—”

“But the more we thought about it,” the woman continued, “the more we realized what a perfect match this would be, how God has completely orchestrated your meeting at just the right time.”

Priscilla looked at the floor, and the crease in her smooth forehead gave evidence that she didn’t consider the match nearly as perfect as her mother did.

“I can see that Miss White is as excited about the prospect as I am.”

“Very good. Then since you are both excited, we shall proceed with the wedding arrangements.” Mrs. White turned away and clapped her hands. “Quiet, everybody! I have an announcement to make.”

Eli’s heart struck against his chest with a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement. “There’s no need for an announcement.”

“Of course there’s a need. We certainly want everyone to share in the good news.” Mrs. White clapped her hands again, this time louder. “Quiet please!”

He couldn’t believe how quickly the situation had spiraled out of his control. He needed to do something to stop Mrs. White before she made a fool of herself. His mind scrambled to find a suitable response, one that wouldn’t cause him to lose the much-needed support he’d gained from many within the congregation.

But when Priscilla shifted her focus from her shoe to his face, a flash of longing in her eyes stopped the words of rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.

Did this woman
want
to marry him? His heart pattered to a stop.

She gave him an apologetic smile and then tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mother, this has gone too far.”

But Mrs. White brushed away her hand. “Nonsense. This is exactly what the Lord has ordained.”

“But, Mother—”

“Attention everyone!” Mrs. White’s strong voice carried through the meetinghouse. “My daughter, Miss White, and our missionary guest, Dr. Ernest, are getting married.”

In an instant, Priscilla was surrounded by friends, with everyone talking at the same time. And those around him slapped his back and shook his hand. He couldn’t find the words to formulate any semblance of an explanation that would get him out of the predicament in which he suddenly found himself.

And Dr. Baldwin had disappeared to the other side of the room, as far away from him as possible.

Over the heads of well-wishers, Priscilla managed to catch his attention and mouth the words
I’m sorry
.

He shrugged and tried to give her a reassuring grin. He wasn’t planning to marry her any more than she was planning to marry him. And once they had room to breathe, he’d make sure he straightened things out.

“You’ll come to our home for a late supper,” Mrs. White said when the meetinghouse began to empty. “You and Dr. Baldwin both.”

He wanted to refuse, but Dr. Baldwin, along with John and Richard, had already started ambling down the street in the direction of the White home.

“I’ll let the two of you walk together.” Mrs. White tucked Priscilla’s hand into the crook of Eli’s arm. “There. Now you can have a few minutes to get better acquainted.”

For a moment, he stood unmoving and watched the woman stride away. She linked arms with her husband and hurried to catch up with Dr. Baldwin and the Indian boys.

Priscilla shivered and began to slide her hand away from him. “I’m sorry about this.”