by Stella Clark
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 st
airway 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.”