The older man clapped his hand hard on David's back. "I'm not the man I was then. I daresay I feel a decade younger than I did." He straightened, patting his flat stomach. "And I would venture to say that I look nearly as good as I did in my thirties." He stroked the side of his face with one hand and grinned. "Maybe a few more wrinkles."
"I can't argue with you on the fact that you do appear quite fit." The man's earnest promotion of his theories had proof in his person. "I have an interest in walking. Ketchum presents interesting enticements to put foot to a path and I imagine myself taking every opportunity to venture forth."
"Excellent, Dr. Reynolds! It warms my heart, and I am certain when you begin to reap the benefits you will share your revelations with your patients. Remember, it's all about balance. You'll be a happier man if you learn to balance the needs of the body, mind, and spirit."
David wondered if such a simple prescription could restore some of the happiness he’d lost in Payette Valley. If daily walking could erase the painful thoughts of lost love, then he would walk the mountains and valleys until the soles of his shoes wore out.
Jessie linked her arm thru Maddie's as she led her across the street. "It's chilly today." She visibly shivered as evidence of her observation. "I'm sure ready for spring. If we look for them hard enough, I'm thinking we'll find signs it’s coming."
Maddie allowed her arm to be hugged, finding the warmth of Jessie's arm comfortable. Her youthful energy reminded Maddie of her school friends, wondering not for the first time what they might be doing at this moment, what she might be doing, were she still with them. Resentment sent a chill through her.
Shivering, Maddie chided herself once again for "borrowing" such a poor excuse for a coat, threadbare as it was. Still, the urgency of her situation had not afforded her the luxury of choices. She felt a twinge of envy for the woman who now warmed herself in what was once her favorite, lavender, wool coat.
Jessie said, "This will be fun! You know, you remind me of my cousin, she was tall and dark-haired like you, about your age, I'd think. I surely miss her. Left her and all my friends and family when I came here in the fall of '86."
“That must have been difficult to do.”
Jessie lifted a shoulder. "Leaving was hard, but knowing I was coming here to be with Bart made it less so. Bart and I wrote to each other for a year before I came here to marry him. It was a little like coming to be with a friend."
She'd read of such marriages, mail-order brides. The idea had made her shudder then as it did now. She stole a glance at Jessie's youthful face, her ebullient spirit evidenced from her laughing eyes to the spring in her steps. It had obviously worked for her.
"Your husband. . .you agreed to marry him before you saw him?"
"Well, I had a picture, so I saw him you might say, before we met. Guess when I bought that train ticket was when I agreed to marry him for certain." She giggled. "Besides, he agreed to marry me before he met me too. It was the letters that won my heart. I knew him before I even laid eyes on him in person."
There were many a school acquaintance whom she felt sure would have gladly been given the opportunity of a year to get to know the man she'd been bartered to in a parent's arranged marriage. Why would one method be better than the other? In fact, she could see how Jessie's method could be preferable. She, at least, had made the choice.
"And it worked? You're happy?"
"Why yes! I would think that was as clear as the nose on your face, silly."
It was clear. The young woman wore an expression, the very picture of what Maddie assumed marital bliss should look like. Being in the presence of one so irrepressibly happy, Maddie could not help but feel happy herself.
"But that's enough about me. I could talk about my Bart's wonderful qualities until your ears fell right off." She gave Maddie's arm a companionable squeeze. "What you did! Coming all this way without a husband to take care of you and no job, that's what I'd call adventurous!"
At once, Maddie was both offended by her statement and fearful at the reminder of her predicament. The offense came from the unenlightened attitude Jessie expressed, suggesting she needed the protection of a husband. If there was one prevalent theme throughout her years at Emma Willard's School for Young Ladies, it was this: If a woman was given the same opportunities as a man, she could perform any job.
The obvious need of money did present a problem that, indeed, a husband might have resolved. If she wished to make her own way in the world, she would require the income made by her hands or her mind.
The question before her was how to phrase her response in such a way as to sound like a poor orphan from Chicago. What would Madison Alexander say?
She began by bringing her hand to touch her throat, laughing lightly. "I don't know what came over me. To get on a train bound for a strange city where I knew no one at all. . ." She shook her head. "Something drew me. Maybe it was the very adventure of it. Do you suppose? Do you believe in fate?"
Jessie's steps had aligned themselves perfectly with Maddie's. Her eyes widened with interest. "Well. I'm not sure I could give you my answer on that. I remember Rebecca talking a great deal about fate. It seemed whenever she did it was to explain something really unfortunate that had happened to her or her people. If fate is always linked to bad luck, I think I don't."
"Who's Rebecca? Is that your sister?"
A burst of laughter brought Jessie to an abrupt stop. "Heavens, no! I was talking about the Rebecca, the woman who loved Ivanhoe."
It took Maddie a few moments to comprehend the reference she'd made to the book Maddie had read in her first year of school. She asked incredulously, "You're talking about the book written by Walter Scott?"
"Yes! Have you read it?" Jessie’s eyes sparkled.
Maddie nodded, still stunned by the girl's acquaintance with such a book. "Yes. I take it that you have as well?"
Jessie linked her arm once more through Maddie's and started down the street again. "Three years ago, Lena and Evan read it aloud to us. I nearly cry every time I think of Rebecca and how much she loved Ivanhoe. It was so sad, but so romantic."
They pulled up before a storefront, wearing a fresh coat of paint and declaring the establishment within to be a purveyor of dry goods and finery for women.
Jessie said, "Here we are!"
Though neat in appearance, she could tell from the modest window display of finery that the shop would sorely fail to measure up to the standards of the Fifth Avenue shops she'd become accustomed to these past two prosperous years.
"Oh look!" Jessie pulled Maddie to the shop window. "They have a Help Wanted sign! Oh my!" She looked up at Maddie, her eyes sparkling. "Maybe fate can bring good luck too!"
She knew she should at least appear to be excited, so she forced a smile as she returned Jessie's enthusiastic hug. What would her teachers at Emma Willard's School for Young Ladies say if they knew she'd settled for a clerk's position in such an establishment? What opportunities would she have here to challenge society's ideas on proper employment for women in the coming century?
As she caught her reflection in the glass window, no longer attired in fashionable clothing, she frowned. For the present, she was Madison Alexander, a girl of limited education and even more limited means. She must wear the costume to suit the role. Along with her lavender, wool coat, she'd need to learn to put aside her pride.
Chapter 8
With two wrapped bundles of new clothes tucked under her arm, she should have been pleased, but the choices in the dry goods store were woefully lacking. Certainly, nothing she'd seen would have found its way onto a page of Harper's Bazaar. Even though the shop displayed one simple two-piece dress made of a lovely blue satin, she knew it would be far too elegant for her assumed station. Her fingers still held the memory of the rich-textured fabric, unlike the rough weaves of what she'd selected. In that gloomy mood, she kept pace with the effervescent Jessie down the street to the hotel.
The Fitzsimmons Metropolitan Ho
tel claimed a name far superior to its modest clapboard two-story edifice. Maddie wondered if the owner chose the name before the building was constructed, perhaps hoping to encourage the structure to live up to it. Customers filled the window tables, so she hoped the food might at least live up to the grand name's aspirations.
Lena waved to them from the corner table near the far window. Squeezing through the crowded dining room, filled with animated conversations proved more difficult due to the parcels each woman carried. With a few bumped elbows and a few more apologies, they successfully navigated the room to Lena.
Jessie collapsed into a chair, her golden curls charmingly awry. "I'm so glad you suggested meeting here for tea. You know, I don't think I could have made it back to the house without fainting dead away. I just don't seem to have the energy to make it through the afternoon without a nap these days."
"Well then, tea will be just what the doctor would order, I think." Lena reached across the table to pat Jessie's arm. "Scones and tea sandwiches are already on the way."
With interest, Maddie watched the interaction of the two women. Although there appeared to be no more than ten years' difference in their ages, Lena seemed to have assumed a maternal position in their relationship. The observation made her curious about how they'd developed such a friendship.
Lena poured tea into Jessie and Maddie's cups. "So how was your shopping excursion? From your packages, I assume you found a few items."
Maddie watched Lena’s reaction to her packages. Would the woman become suspicious of her ability to make the purchases? She mentally rehearsed her explanation, but Lena’s face revealed no such curiosity. She was an interesting woman, in many ways too sophisticated for her environment. Yet somehow, she fit comfortably into the life here.
Jessie said, "Oh! I found the sweetest calico in a lovely shade of peach. But Madison bought a very smart jacket with lavender-colored velvet trim. She's such a perfect figure. In everything she tried, she looked like a catalog model.” She gave Maddie a pout. “Truth is, I'm green to the gills with envy of you, Madison."
Lena leaned in close to Jessie. "Well, there might be a reason your figure isn't quite the hourglass profile you envy."
Jessie covered her mouth with gloved fingers and giggled.
Lena said, "Oh, look! Dr. Thornton and Dr. Reynolds just walked in. Oh my, I fear there aren't any open tables."
Without waiting to consult Lena or Maddie, Jessie waved her hand, attracting the doctors' attention. "We've got plenty of room."
"She's right, I suppose. Is that objectionable to you, Maddie?" Lena asked.
Her mood already dampened by the morning’s shopping, Maddie would have preferred a quiet lunch, but she could hardly refuse since this was Lena’s treat. "That's quite all right."
After shuffling packages and skirts, the three women scooted their chairs closer to one another, making room for the two men.
Dr. Thornton took Lena's hand lightly in his own, bowing courteously. "This is kind of you, Mrs. Hartmann. Dr. Reynolds and I have been making patient visits most of the day and I'm afraid I may have worn out the poor doctor."
Dr. Reynolds nodded to each woman before taking a seat next to Maddie. In the tight quarters, his boot caught the hem of her dress. As he tried to extract his heel from the folds of fabric, his head collided with Maddie's. Both sat back, rubbing heads. Maddie found his flustered apology amusing but managed not to show she had noticed his embarrassment.
Looking about the room, Dr. Thornton observed, "I guess word has spread that the hotel serves the best scones outside the Eastern cities. I thought such luxuries lost forever when I moved here. I told Mr. Reynolds about them and it seems he's missed the bakeries of Baltimore as much as I."
Maddie had a sensory memory of one such Baltimore bakery she and her father had lived above when she was a child of ten. Every morning, she’d awaken in pre-dawn hours to the tempting aromas of bread they couldn’t afford. Although on occasion the baker’s wife gave her the day-old pastries, for the most part the fragrance set her mouth to watering without hope of satisfying her growling stomach. She leaned forward, nearly asking the location of the ones he’d frequented, but caught herself in time.
Lena smiled across the table at David. "Is that your home, Dr. Reynolds? Baltimore?"
"Baltimore is where I completed my hospital training. I spent a few years there. My fiancé lived in the city with her family." Maddie watched as Lena's head tilted to the side, the question obviously poised on her lips. Dr. Reynolds apparently saw it too and anticipated it. "I. . . she was. . . she passed away."
Jessie's reaction brought the only audible gasp.
The young doctor's lack of facial expression confused Maddie. Maybe it had been an arranged marriage. Did he truly love the woman to whom he'd been engaged or had he built a protective wall around his heart so that he could speak of the event with no sign of grief? It was an odd experience for her not to read something of his feelings.
"How tragic, Dr. Reynolds. I'm so very sorry," Lena said, her gloved hand extended across the table toward him.
"That was several years ago. It was one reason I came west—that and my need to recover from ill health. The move has been good for me on both counts, Mrs. Hartmann."
"I'm glad to hear it. Moving west was a balm to my spirit as well. I think broken hearts can often be mended by a change in scenery, new friends, new vistas. These mountains certainly transformed me."
Dr. Thornton clapped a hand soundly on his knee. "You have that correct, Mrs. Hartmann. The mountains, fresh air, sunshine—all have more medicinal benefit than most found in bottles on any apothecary shelf."
Turning to Jessie, Dr. Thornton leaned in close and whispered, "And how are you doing? Nausea passed now?"
"Yes, Dr. Thornton, I've been my old self this whole week," Jessie said, a slight pink flush to her cheeks.
"Excellent! And you, Miss Alexander? Are you restored to your good health by a good night’s rest and Mrs. Long and Mrs. Hartmann's exceptional cooking?" Dr. Thornton raised a bushy eyebrow as he turned his sharp eyes to her.
"Yes, Doctor, quite well. Thank you."
"So, I understand that you may be looking for employment in our little city."
Maddie wasn't sure if he was serious when he referred to Ketchum with its dirty streets, and collection of ramshackle buildings as a city. His face bore no suggestion of humor.
Jessie interjected, "Oh, that reminds me! We saw a sign in the window at the dry goods store. They're asking for help." Jessie beamed at Maddie. "I think Maddie would be perfect! She really knows the right questions to ask about styles and fabrics."
"I don't know." Maddie smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt, avoiding Jessie’s suggestion.
"Perhaps that just isn't the type of work Madison's suited for," Lena said while handing David a cup of tea.
"I bet Madison could do all kinds of clever things. Maybe you'd make a good midwife. That's a fine profession for a woman. My momma never had a doctor for the four of us. She always called the mid-wife." Jessie seemed to warm to the idea. "Maybe you could help the doctor. Could you use an assistant, Dr. Reynolds?"
"If Miss Alexander was seriously interested in medicine, she could return east and study to become a nurse or physician." Dr. Reynolds gave her an encouraging smile. "There are more women entering the field than ever before."
A loud burst of air expelled from Dr. Thornton's lungs drew the attention of the other four. "I've seen some doctors coming out of these frontier medicine schools. Wouldn't let them treat my horse, let alone a human. And don’t misunderstand me. I'm not just saying it's because so many of them are women."
Maddie stiffened, drilling Dr. Thornton with a level gaze. "I'm glad to hear it, Dr. Thornton. I would have been disappointed if you were suggesting women incapable of the same kind of work as a man with equal proficiency." She pronounced each word with stinging clarity.
Dr. Thornton harrumphed and tugged at his vest. "I do believe tha
t women are best suited for professions other than medicine. Mrs. Hartmann here is a perfect example of matching natural feminine qualities to a profession. Her congeniality and superb culinary skills make her the perfect boarding house manager." He shifted his gaze to Lena whose face wore a cool, less-than-congenial expression. Maddie could detect the stiffening in Lena’s posture even if the doctor could not.
Before anyone could offer an opinion, David jumped into the conversation, his voice soft but strengthened with a confident tone that took Maddie by surprise. "I cannot disagree with you more, Dr. Thornton. I have known many female physicians who are as capable as their male counterparts, some even superior. My experience has led me to believe that women have a greater propensity for listening to their patients. Men, on the other hand, often jump to a diagnosis more quickly, missing key symptoms."
A loud silence filled the space between them. Dr. Thornton's eyebrow edged upward a fraction of an inch. "Really."
"Yes. In fact, my colleague in Payette Valley was Dr. Kathryn Meriwether, and she was one of the most astute physicians with whom I've had the privilege to work. It would have been quite a shame had she settled for anything less than a physician’s degree. She is both knowledgeable and perceptive."
Something in his tone and the set of his jaw made Maddie suspect there might have been more to their relationship than professional respect. She imagined that it might have been an easy transition from a passion for the shared work to a passion for one another. Interesting. These intriguing thoughts were quickly interrupted by Dr. Thornton injecting his singular observations.
"Well, I would suppose there could be exceptions to the rule, of course, but I think God has uniquely gifted the genders. Many other admirable vocations exist for a woman to pursue."
"And what might those be, Dr. Thornton?" Maddie asked, bristling again.
The older doctor sat back in his chair, his hand smoothing his beard in slow strokes. "Teachers like yourself, for one."
"And you would trust a woman to educate your son?"
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