Want Ad Wedding. Cheryl St.JohnЧитать онлайн книгу.
are what we need,” Gus reminded him “That newspaper has a reputation for blowing the truth out of proportion. Why, this town was still a row of clapboard buildings and tents, and The Herald was already calling it a boomtown.”
“It is a boomtown, you old fool,” Old Horace rebutted.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going.” Prudence set down her napkin and stood.
Leah watched her go. She was the least friendly of all the women who had traveled west together. Leah understood Prudence was widowed, as well, so perhaps she was still grieving and not ready for friendships. Everyone handled grief their own way. “May I help you with the breakfast dishes?” she asked Aunt Mae.
“Goodness, no. You’re a paid renter, even if the town is paying your rent for a few weeks. The dishes are my job.”
“Thank you. It was a nice meal.” Leah took care of a few last-minute things, and then walked next door.
D.B. Burrows was a tall fellow with muttonchop sideburns and pale skin. He was standing at a worktable when she entered. “Morning,” he offered.
“Good morning. I’d like to place an ad, please.”
“Miss Haywood will get all the information,” he told her.
Leah hadn’t seen Prudence sitting behind a partition until she stood and reached for paper and ink.
Leah recited what she’d planned for her ad.
“There aren’t many women around here yet,” D.B. said.
“I understand that,” Leah answered. “Hopefully, people will read it and remember me when my midwife services are needed.”
D.B. wiped his hands and moved to stand beside Prudence. He stood a little too close in Leah’s opinion, but the young widow didn’t seem to mind as she showed him what she’d written. “That’s good,” he praised.
This seemed awfully quick, but maybe theirs would be the first marriage, just as Aunt Mae had suggested. Or Leah was reading more into their new employer and employee relationship than was there. She paid for the ad. “Do I remember seeing the doctor’s sign on this street?”
D.B. nodded. “Keep walking the way you came here and on past the jail. Across the street on the corner is Doc Fletcher’s place. If he’s not in, there’s a chalkboard.”
“Thank you.”
Quincy Davis spotted her as she passed, and he came out to greet her. “Morning, Miss...”
“Mrs. Swann,” she supplied.
“Mrs. Swann. I trust Aunt Mae has made you comfortable?”
“Yes, indeed.” She glanced across the street and spotted Gus and Horace settling onto chairs in front of a building. The sign above the door read Booker & Son—Purveyor of Dry Goods from Nails to Cloth.
“Is that the mercantile?”
“It’s one of ’em. The largest, in fact. Gus and Old Horace loiter there all day, except when they go back to the boardinghouse for lunch. Sometimes if I don’t see them, I can hear clanging and I know they’re playing horseshoes behind the store. There’s a lot between the store and the church.”
She continued on her way and found the doctor in his office. He was rail thin and his hair was balding on top, but he still had gray fringe around his ears.
“How do you do?” Leah said. “I’m Mrs. Swann.”
“Welcome to Cowboy Creek.” He had smile lines in both cheeks and his dark eyebrows were thick. “You’re one of the widows? You ladies are the talk of the town, you know.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve come to introduce myself and tell you a little bit about me. I’ve had midwife experience and I’m hoping to put my knowledge to use.”
“I’m sure you’ll be quite useful,” he replied. “As soon as we have more women and babies on the way. Right now there is only Opal Godwin here in town, but I know of two more women on nearby ranches who might appreciate your services.”
“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on your toes before I called on Mrs. Godwin,” she said.
“Goodness, no. I’ll be happy to be relieved of those duties. I have more than enough to keep me busy with all the rowdy cowboys, snakebites, scrapes and cuts, and the occasional construction accident.”
“That’s good to hear. Not the part about the snakebites and the accidents, of course. The part about you being relieved to turn over some of your cases.” She paused and he studied her. “There is one more thing I need to mention.”
The doctor waited.
Leah’s nerves fluttered. She hadn’t told anyone yet. Saying the words aloud brought back her past losses. “I’m going to have a baby myself.”
“I see.” He nodded. “Best you find yourself a husband soon then.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I’m concerned for my baby.”
“Of course you are.”
“No. What I mean is, I’ve lost two babies before it was time for them to be born.”
“I’m real sorry to hear that, ma’am. Would you like me to check your health now?” he asked. “How did you fare on your trip?”
He did a routine exam, asking questions about the circumstances leading to previous issues and finding her healthy. “I see nothing that would warn us of a problem,” he said.
“This time feels different,” she said. “I don’t know how to explain it, except I don’t feel the same way I did the other times.”
“I trust your intuition, but I caution you to get plenty of rest and not overtax your body.”
“That’s my plan,” she assured him. “I don’t want anything to happen this time.”
“I think you should come see me every few weeks,” he suggested. “We’ll keep a close watch.”
“Thank you, Doctor Fletcher.”
“Now head back to your room and rest.” He grinned. “Doctor’s orders.”
Leah said a silent prayer of thanks. This time was going to be different. This time she would have a child to hold in her arms and love. Her heart ached with the joy of gain and the sorrow of loss. One crucial component remained—the reason she’d come to Cowboy Creek. She still had to find a father for this baby—a husband.
Daniel and Will had spent the night at Noah’s and lit out at first light. Daniel gathered clothing and headed for the bathhouse, then around the corner to the barber for a shave. He met Will and Reverend Taggart outside the boardinghouse and couldn’t resist glancing up at the room where Aunt Mae had mentioned Leah was staying. He’d lain awake most of the night, and it hadn’t been the other men’s snores that had disturbed his sleep. It had been thoughts of Leah and how she would react to what he was going to ask this morning.
The reverend was appreciative of the white frame church building on Second Street, with its steeple and fresh paint. The interior smelled of new wood and plaster. The council had voted for and commissioned twelve stained glass windows that lined the east and west walls, six on each side. The morning light streamed through those windows and reflected colorful rainbows on the polished wood pews and floor.
Reverend Taggart walked up the middle aisle in devout silence, examining every beam and board of the interior as he slowly reached the front. His steel-gray eyes were moist when he turned to face the other men. “God is so good and merciful. This is more than I ever expected. I know our Creator can use this building,