The Doctor's Pregnant Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 1)

by Stella Clark

  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 matt
er 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.”