Readers would eat up the vivid descriptions of the wild western frontier, and the story of the dashing hero and beautiful, courageous heroine was full of romance, suspense, and melodrama. Willis suspected he wouldn’t be able to print copies fast enough to meet demand once readers discovered the book, and that suited him just fine. He was even happier when Miss Winters agreed to write two more novels within the next year, and an exhilarated Mollie returned to the boarding house from her meeting with the publisher feeling as though she were walking two feet above the ground.
Her buoyant spirits turned into a bundle of nerves, however, when one evening at the end of the next week, as they cleaned the treatment room and put it into good order, Nick suggested they visit George and Ida the following evening to break the news of their engagement.
Seeing her suddenly anxious expression, Nick said, “Now don’t take on, Miss Winters. There’s nothing to be nervous about.” But his restless hands, clenching and unclenching, betrayed his own nerves. He paused, then admitted, “Except, I suppose, if Ida insists upon taking over the wedding arrangements like some deranged general.”
Mollie clasped her hands as though in prayer. “Oh, Nick, please can’t we just keep it all very simple?”
He sighed. “That would suit me just fine, Mollie, though our idea of ‘simple’ may not have much in common with Ida’s. I suppose the best we can do is throw ourselves on her mercy and hope she will agree to a small, parlor wedding.”
“Hector’s pup!” Mollie fretted. Shaking her head, she asked, “And what do you suppose she will do when I tell her I’ve made my trousseau of linen, gingham, and starched aprons for working at the zoo?”
Nick grimaced. “She’ll have a stroke of apoplexy, no doubt. We can only hope that if you allow her to add a bit of lace and silk, her sensibilities will be pacified.”
Mollie worried her lower lip. “Nicholas, I did not anticipate this all being quite so complicated. ”
He tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it was a strained effort. “Well, try not to worry, Mollie. Ida will lay siege, but she does treat her prisoners well.” He paused, sighed again. “Mostly.”
• • • • •
For the second time in a month – the first having been when he’d furiously hauled Mollie to his sister’s house from the train depot – Nick left Ida stunned with astonishment when he announced he and Miss Winters were now engaged.
Hoping to keep their visit brief, Nick and Mollie arrived at the Gresses’ home in the evening, knocking on the front door well after suppertime.
“Why, whoever would come calling at this hour?” Ida wondered to herself as she set her knitting back in its basket and started to rise from her fireside chair in the parlor. When she heard Willie Mae’s footsteps hurrying down the hall to the door, she called, “Who is it, Miz Willie Mae?”
Miz Willie, her eyes wide, called back, “I reckon y’all had best come see fer yerself, Miz Ida.” Turning back to the couple standing on the doorstep, Willie broke into a huge smile. “Y’all best come on in, Mist’ Nick. And good evenin’ to you, Miss Winters. It’s a mighty fine pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you, Miz Willie.” Mollie’s smile, though nervous, was genuine. “I’m pleased to see you, too. You are looking very well this evening.”
“Oh, fit as a fiddle, thank you, Miss.”
Nick bent down, pecked a kiss on Willie Mae’s cheek. “You do indeed look well, Miz Willie. Sorry to stop by so late, but….”
“Nick, is that you?” Hearing her brother’s voice, Ida called to him even before she appeared in the hallway. When she stepped through the parlor door and saw not only Nick, but Mollie Winters as well, her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why, Miss Winters! Well, land sakes, isn’t this a nice surprise!”
“Mrs. Gress,” Mollie said, smiling. “Please do forgive us for dropping by at this hour.”
Ida shook her head. “Nonsense. I’m very glad to see you both. George mentioned you are publishing a book! Isn’t that wonderful?” Glancing at her brother, she held out her hand to Mollie, who took it with visible relief.
“Thank you, Mrs. Gress,” she murmured. “That’s very kind of you to say so.”
Ida’s eyes darted back and forth between Nick and Mollie, and her curiosity was growing so acute that she became a bit flustered. Realizing she was still clutching Mollie’s hand, Ida released her and made a little ushering gesture toward the parlor door.
“Why don’t we all go sit by the fire?” she said, turning her head to call down the hallway. “George! Will you come out here, please, dear? We have company!”
As they walked into the parlor, shedding hats and coats, George, clad in a smoking jacket, appeared in the doorway. “Nick!” he beamed. “And Miss Winters! What a pleasant surprise! I trust all went well for you at Porter’s, Miss Winters?”
Mollie turned, and a genuine smile bloomed. “Very well, indeed, Mr. Gress. I’m very much obliged to you for the amendments you made to the contract. Mr. Porter grumbled a good deal, but in the end he agreed to every one. Thanks to you, I received an advance far more generous than I could ever have imagined. I am truly in your debt, suh.”
“Not at all, Miss Winters. Not at all.” As George beamed and made a dismissive wave of his hand, they all settled around the fire. Ida turned to Willie Mae, who was draping the discarded coats carefully over the settee in the corner.
“Miz Willie,” she said, “would you be kind enough to check that Marie has not kicked off her covers, and then bring in some tea and the rest of those little frosted cakes from supper?”
“’Course, Miz Ida. Right away.”
As Willie turned toward the kitchen, Nick stood and said quickly, “No, stay, please, Miz Willie. What Miss Winters and I have to say concerns y’all, too. Marie will be fine for a few minutes, and the tea can wait.” He crossed the room and pulled a chair over to where the housekeeper stood.
Surprised, Willie Mae’s questioning gaze turned to Ida. After a pause, Nick’s sister nodded, and Willie Mae sat down, murmuring, “Obliged, Mist’ Nick.”
When he turned back to the others and saw all eyes on him, color drained from Nick’s face. He shot a glance at Mollie. She nodded encouragingly, but said nothing. Clearing his throat, he began, “We, uh, well, that is, Miss Winters and I, we wish to discuss with all y’all some, uh, matters of importance to us all.”
Ida’s brows rose and her fingers fluttered in her lap. George reached over and quietly took her hand. He offered his brother-in-law an encouraging smile.
“All right, Nick,” George said. “Go ahead. We’re all ears.”
“Very well, yes. Well, I wanted y’all to be the first to know, you see,” Nick managed, though his throat was suddenly dry as dust, “that, uh, that Miss Winters here has, uh, has graciously accepted my, uh … my proposal of marriage.” He ended in a rush.
“What?!” Ida squeaked. “Marriage? You mean, the two of you? After all that fuss?”
Nick winced, shoved his hands in his pockets. Mollie rescued him, leaning forward, her hands clasped tidily in her lap.
“I … I know it must come as rather a shock,” she said gently, “given the doctor’s and my, well, unfortunate introduction and the … awkward … events of the day I arrived here. However, it seems circumstances have changed, and I … I’m going to work permanently as his assistant.”
“His assistant?” Ida could only manage a slightly strangled echo, and even George looked a little thunderstruck. “You mean, at the zoo?”
“Yes,” Mollie nodded, offering a smile she prayed looked serene and confident. “It seemed to us to be best for all concerned, you see, if we worked together in that capacity as husband and wife.”
There were long seconds of dead silence. Nick could not remember ever seeing his sister rendered quite so speechless. Even Miz Willie simply stared at him, eyes wide as saucers.
George was the first to recover. He got to his feet, held out his hand to Nick, and a broad s
mile bloomed on his face. “Well, I say! Isn’t this bully! Congratulations, Doc!” He turned to Mollie, took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “This is wonderful news, Mollie! May I call you Mollie now?”
When Mollie, now a bit thunderstruck herself, simply nodded, he said, “Welcome to the family!” He looked back to his wife. “Ida, isn’t this wonderful? We’ll have a new sister, and Marie will have an auntie!”
Ida got slowly to her feet and took the few steps across the floor to where Mollie stood. Mollie swallowed but held her ground, unsure what was about to happen. When she realized there were tears in Ida’s eyes, she stammered, “Mrs. Gress, I….”
But Ida suddenly threw her arms about Mollie and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Mollie!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy for my brother! You’re the answer to a prayer! Thank you.”
“You … you don’t mind?” Mollie asked anxiously.
“Mind? Good heavens above, of course not! Why, I sent for you, didn’t I? I knew the moment I read your letter that you would be the one! I’m so glad you did not give up on us, Mollie dear, nor on my mule-headed brother.”
Ida released Mollie, turned to a glowering Nick and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “In years to come, Nicholas,” she said with a smile, following the kiss with a quick pat on his reddening cheek, “I will thank you to remember that it was, once again and as always, your very own sister who knew best!”
CHAPTER 10
“There! I think I’ve got it!” Nick grunted through gritted teeth as his numb fingers finally wrapped around the fetal elk calf’s back-turned hoof.
“Can you … pull it forward?” Mollie gasped anxiously. Out of breath, she struggled to hold the elk cow’s head. Even though the animal was haltered and secured to either side of the calving stall, she was easily as large as a small horse, quite as strong, and very determined to throw off the human pests who restrained her and summarily took other unwelcomed liberties.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” His words were muffled as he struggled, his arm shoulder-deep inside the laboring elk, to maneuver the calf into position. Both the mother and baby were in danger of losing their lives if he did not, and Nick was not about to let that happen.
The elk cow’s pelvic muscles bore down in a strong labor contraction, and Nick clenched his jaw as his arm was squeezed almost unbearably hard. Another contraction of that strength, and he’d lose the feeling in his hand altogether.
“Easy, girl, easy now,” Mollie crooned, clutching the halter with one hand and gently stroking the big animal’s neck with the other. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“Not damn soon enough,” Nick muttered, but as soon as he felt the elk’s muscles relax, he clutched the little hoof in his fingers and, with a quick, silent prayer, yanked the calf’s leg forward into the correct position.
He had barely managed to free his own arm when the elk cow gave a low, deep, visceral groan. Two spindly, hoofed forelegs suddenly appeared, a tiny muzzle burrowed between them. One more long contraction and the sodden, gooey, hefty little spotted elk calf slid to the straw-covered floor of the calf barn.
“Good girl, Bella! Good girl!” Mollie struggled to hold Bella’s head as the elk tried to turn toward her newborn. “Is the calf all right?” she asked Nick anxiously.
He nodded, wiping the newborn’s muzzle with a clean rag. “Yes, ma’am. Looks just fine. A healthy bull calf.” When the calf abruptly came to life, squirming in his arms and struggling to stand, Nick steadied it. When it seemed to have its balance, he let go and backed away, but not quite quickly enough.
Bellowing in distress, Bella twisted and bucked, her hind hooves kicking out powerfully as she tried to rid herself of the halter.
“Nick! Look out!” Mollie yelped, hanging on to Bella’s halter for dear life.
As he leapt to the side, the sharp point of a cloven hoof caught Nick’s leg, tearing through his heavy twill trousers and gouging a deep, ragged gash across his right thigh. Hissing in pain, he stumbled to the side of the stall and, cursing under his breath, clung a moment to the rails. Then he caught his breath, straightened, regained his balance, and took a long, limping stride to reach Mollie. Still clinging to the elk’s halter, she tried desperately to calm the elk cow, who continued to bellow, buck, and twist to free herself.
Not realizing Nick had been kicked, Mollie gasped, “That was close! Are you all right? Sorry – I could barely hold her.”
“I’m fine.” Nick took hold of Mollie’s hands, worked her clenched fingers free of the halter. “Now get out of the stall,” he ordered. “I’m going to release her.” When Mollie nodded and began to slip past him toward the stall gate, he said, “Not that way. She’ll kick again. Come here.”
Before Mollie could protest, Nick swept her up in his arms and lifted her to the top rail of the stall’s side fence. She perched there a minute, her hands braced on his shoulders, staring into his eyes. They were both a mess, faces smeared with grime and sweat, hair disheveled, but emotion suddenly sparked, and sparked hard, between them. Nick took a fistful of the hair at the back of her neck, crocheted snood and all, and pulled her closer, careful not to tug her from her perch on the rail.
Mollie’s gasp of surprise was swallowed by Nick’s mouth as he took hers in a hot, yearning kiss. The emotion that rushed through him was nearly uncontrollable, and after her initial shock, Mollie braced her hands on his shoulders and met his embrace with an eagerness and heat that would have shocked her even more, had she not seemed to have lost every ounce of sanity.
When he realized he was about two seconds from yanking her off the fence and dragging her down into the straw, hooves or no hooves, Nick grasped the last slender thread of his self-control and pulled his mouth from Mollie’s. Both gasped for air, their eyes clouded with desire.
“Sorry,” Nick mumbled, breathing heavily, barely able to find his voice. “I … sorry.”
“You … you are?” Mollie asked, dazed and completely rattled. Her spectacles were wildly askew on her nose.
Nick met her eyes, and gently righting her glasses, smiled in spite of himself. “No, ma’am.” He shook his head. “No, I reckon I’m not sorry at all.”
When the elk bellowed again and shook her big head, rearing back and trying to yank the ropes free, Nick regained at least a part of his senses.
“Go on, now, Mollie,” he said, easing her over the top rail to the adjoining stall. “I’ll see to Bella here.”
Standing on the bottom rail, resting her chin on her folded arms on the top, Mollie looked misty-eyed, first at Nick, then down at the calf, who was wobbling toward its mother. Her voice filled with emotion, she pointed at the newborn and said, “And Apollo, too.”
Nick sighed, shook his head, and began to gingerly unfasten Bella’s halter, standing as far away from her to do so as he could. “Yeah,” he said. “By all means, ma’am. Apollo, too.”
• • • • •
“Ida’s going to kill us!” Mollie gasped, clutching Nick’s arm with one hand and her hat with the other as he drove Magnolia through the carriageways of Grant Park like a Roman chariot racer careening around the Circus Maximus. After turning the care of Bella and her newborn Apollo over to Mose Thompson, the head keeper, they’d returned to the treatment room, tired, filthy, and in Nick’s case, bloody, only to realize they had completely lost track of time. Less than an hour remained before the start of a very important event, and now the skies were growing ominously dark with lowering storm clouds.
“Well,” he said, eyes riveted on the road ahead, “at least they can’t start without us.”
“Nick, look sharp!”
When they skidded around a corner, nearly sliding the offside buggy wheels down the embankment to the lake, Nick finally slowed the horse down to a brisk trot. Mollie blew out a huff of air, sank back on the bench seat.
“If the preacher has given up on us and decamped,” she said, “Ida may never speak to us again. And she’s been so kind, Nick. Making all the arrangements, hel
ping me shop, and Miz Willie Mae’s gone to so much trouble making refreshments and flower garlands and Lord knows what else.” When a bolt of lightning lit the sky and a distant roll of thunder boomed, Mollie fretted, “And now it’s going to pour rain. Dear me, I fear we’re not making a very auspicious start to this marriage.”
Nick tightened his hands on the reins, and a thin line of sweat broke out on his upper lip. He hated the sound of thunder; always had. You’d think after all these years, it’d quit reminding me of cannon fire, he thought. But it always caught him by surprise and made his nerves jangle.
“Doctor?” Mollie’s brows knit as she saw his eyes cloud and the lines at the sides of his mouth deepen.
Nick turned to her, then suddenly bent and took her mouth, kissing her almost desperately. When he raised his head, he saw Mollie’s cheeks were blazing and her hat was even more askew. Somehow, though, he felt some of his raw tension ease as a different energy spread through him. Mollie. She would be his talisman. She would keep his nightmares at bay.
Thank God.
He cleared his throat. “That sure enough felt like an auspicious start to me,” he said.
“Nick!” Mollie stared at him, wide-eyed, cheeks flaming. “We are right out in public, suh!” She leaned out, peered around the side of the buggy to see if any scandalized crowds were tut-tutting as they passed.
“We leave anybody lying in the road, passed out from shock?” Nick asked, a little amazed that his sense of humor hadn’t entirely deserted him. Thunder and lightning had, more than once, left him shaking like a palsied man.
Mollie settled back onto her seat. “Just those poor souls Magnolia trampled into the mud,” she said. “And we’ll see how cheeky you are, Dr. Avinger, when your sister gets hold of you for being late to your own wedding. Ah!”
Mollie: Bride of Georgia (American Mail-Order Brides 4) Page 6