Stories of family and romance beneath the Big Sky!

“Don’t be mad at me,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you. You’re a wonderful girl, Ellie. You’re strong and honest and worthy of any man in this town.”

“I don’t want any man in this town,” she said quietly. “I just want to work for you, stay in that beautiful room you let me have, and make flowers grow in your yard.”

“I’d say that’s little enough to ask of life,” he told her, bending to touch her forehead with a gentle brush of his mouth. Drawing her hand through his arm, he turned them in the direction of his house, aware of a buggy that passed, conscious of two families who walked on the opposite side of the road…and mindful of the lapse he’d just committed.

Kissing Ellie was like placing an item in the weekly newspaper: Dr. Gray to Marry Ellie Mitchum….

A Convenient Wife

Carolyn Davidson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROLYN DAVIDSON

Carolyn Davidson’s life can be summarized in three simple words: reading, writing and research—followed by her husband and family, of course. With children and grandchildren spread across the eastern half of the country, travel has also become a big part of her life. A charter member of the Lowcountry Romance Writers of America, with women who share her love of writing, Carolyn holds her fellow members partly responsible for whatever success she has achieved in the pursuit of her career and enjoys hearing from readers at P.O. Box 2757, Goose Creek, SC 29445.

To a dear friend who cheered me on from the beginning of my writing career, in those days when only a very few thought I would ever find someone to publish my stories.

A friend who listens and celebrates with me when things are going well in my life, and is still there by my side when troubles come along.

A woman I call “warm and wonderful,” who loves me unconditionally.

Tena Hoyle, this book is for you.

And, as always, to Mr. Ed, who loves me.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

August, 1897

“I think I’m dying.”

If her eyes had not been filled with tears, and her expression so woeful, Winston Gray might have smiled. As it was, he adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. Clearly, the young woman huddled in a straight chair on the other side of his desk was in dire straits. But, dying? If clear skin, soft brown eyes and a full head of dark, waving hair gave any indication at all, he’d say she was in the best of health.

True, her form was slender, but not unduly so. And yet, there was a significant thickening of her waist and a suggestion of recent weight gain, if the fit of her dress was anything to go by.

“What’s the reason for you to be so worried?” he asked, watching as her slender hand lifted to swipe at the tears on her cheeks. Concern was written all over the girl, and suddenly he lost his urge to smile. Rising from behind his desk, he moved slowly to where she sat, pulling a second chair closer.

She looked up at him, her mouth working as though she might burst into a full-fledged crying spell any minute. “My mama died from a growth in her belly,” she whispered, and one hand spread across her own abdomen as she spoke. “I was only six years old, but I remember how she just got skinnier and skinnier, and her belly got bigger and bigger, till one morning she just stopped breathing.”

Dr. Winston Gray knew heartbreak when it stared him in the face, and he sensed the girl’s need for comfort. His large hand reached for hers, clasping it within his palm. “And you think you might have the same affliction?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, allowing the tears to flow now. “I’ve been feeling poorly lately, maybe for three months or so now. And my belly’s getting bigger all the time.”

And if his training had taught him anything, Win knew exactly what the girl’s problem was. “Is there any chance you might be in the family way?” he asked.

Her eyes widened and her head shook with a violent movement. “Heavenly days, no,” she blurted. “I’m not married, Dr. Gray.”

“That doesn’t always preclude a pregnancy,” he told her. “Perhaps you…” How to phrase it delicately, so she would not take offense? “Do you have a gentleman friend?”

Her flushed cheeks lost their color and she wilted in the chair, tugging her hand from his grasp. “No.” The single word was abrupt, and she straightened her shoulders. “Not anymore, anyway. Tommy Jamison used to come calling, but his folks moved back East a couple of weeks ago, and—” Her shoulders lifted in a telling shrug. “My pa didn’t like Tommy anyway, and now, with me probably dying, it’s just as well. His folks wanted him to go to college to get a good education.”

And likely, the mother had taken a good look at Tommy’s young lady and hustled her son as far away as possible from the problem he’d caused, Win surmised. He leaned his arms on his thighs and looked down at the wooden floor. How any young woman could be so ignorant was a puzzle he’d come across once before, and that time it had been solved neatly by a hasty marriage, aided by an angry father with a shotgun.

This particular situation didn’t look as promising.

“How old are you?” he asked, glancing up to see her blinking back another deluge of tears.

“Almost nineteen,” she whispered. “That’s too young to die, isn’t it?”

“You’re not going to die.” He hesitated, unwilling to speak further without at least knowing the girl’s name. “You’re George Mitchum’s girl, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “I’m Ellie. Eleanor, after my mama.”

“Ellie.” He tasted the name, liking its simplicity. “Do you have any female relatives? An aunt, maybe? Is there a housekeeper at your father’s ranch?” From what he’d heard, Win was certain the man could afford to hire a woman to live in and keep up his ranch house.

“No, there’s just me,” Ellie said, dashing his hopes. “I do the housework, and wash and cook for my pa and me.”

Win cleared his throat. This was getting stickier by the minute. “Would you mind coming into my examining room, Ellie? I’d like to take a look at you and listen to your heart.”

“My heart? What’s that got to do with it?” she asked. “One of these days it’s probably going to stop beating. Right now, it’s doing just fine.” She rose, and Win’s gaze fastened on her slender form.

“Come along, Ellie,” he said firmly, rising to his feet and grasping her elbow. “I’d like to check you over.”

She nodded slowly. “All right. If you say so. But I can’t imagine that listening to my heart is going to do much good,” she said glumly.

Probably not, he agreed silently. But it was a beginning.

The examining room was small, centered by a black, leather-covered table, which Ellie approached as if she were heading for the gallows. “You want me to sit up on this thing?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” he responded. “I’d like you to lie down on it. On your back, please.”

She took his offered hand and hoisted herself up, stepping onto the small stool, then sitting erect for a moment on the side of the table. “You sure you want me lying down?”

He nodded, taking his stethoscope from a drawer in his metal cabinet. He turned back to her, watching as she tucked her skirts neatly beneath her legs. “Let me help you,” he offered, easing her head to the pillow he’d provided for his patients’ comfort. “I’m going to unbutton two buttons, Ellie,” he said easily, his fingers loosening the large, black buttons from their holdings. Sliding the bell of his stethoscope inside the bodice, he pressed it to her skin, just left of center, where her heart tones would travel up the rubber tubing he’d attached to his ears.

Closing his eyes, he listened, aware of her hesitant breathing, as if she must take the smallest breaths possible, making herself shrink into the surface of the table in order to escape the pressure of his hand. Her heart was a bit rapid, but he’d expected that. And, as he’d also expected, it was strong and regular.

He slid his hand from her dress, noting the flush that tinged her cheeks with color. “I’m going to press against your stomach, Ellie,” he told her, one hand judging the size of the fetus he was sure she carried. Indeed, it was a growth, one she would likely be carrying for a few more months, if he knew anything about it. Both hands measured her belly, pressing firmly against the expanded womb, and he wished he could perform a more accurate examination.

“You have a problem, Ellie,” he said agreeably, offering a hand to lift her to a sitting position.

“I told you so,” she muttered. “I knew it.”

“Have you spoken to your father?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We don’t talk much.”

“I think you have something you need to tell him. And if Tommy were handy, you’d be telling him about it, too,” he added.

Her eyes widened, their brown irises almost obliterated by black pupils. “What’s Tommy got to do with me dying?”

“Ellie, listen to me,” Win said slowly. “You’re not dying, my dear. Not for many years. The problem you have will be solved in about four months, if my calculations are correct.” He drew in a breath and tilted her chin with one long index finger, in order to look into her eyes. Bewildered eyes, he noted.

“You’re going to have a baby, Ellie. I would guess that Tommy is the father. Am I correct?”

“A baby? Tommy told me…” She halted, flushing deeply now. “He said if I loved him, I’d do what he wanted, and he was going to marry me anyway, so it would be all right.” Her eyes squinted shut. “He lied, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he intended to marry you,” Win told her. “Maybe he would have if his folks hadn’t taken him back East.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, and her eyes opened, a fierce anger darkening their depths. “I think I was a fool to believe him, Dr. Gray. I just needed somebody to love me.” The words were an anguished whisper, and Win’s heart jolted in his chest.

“We all need that, Ellie.”

She lifted her head and turned to look out the window, where white curtains hung to ensure privacy from the outside. Through their gauzy fabric, his backyard offered a bleak landscape. Dried grass and clumps of bedraggled perennials dotted the dry ground, and at the back of the lot an unpainted picket fence delineated his property line. “You need somebody to tend your yard,” Ellie said quietly. “Those flowers could use some watering.”

“I suppose,” he agreed, aware that she struggled to face her dilemma. “What will you do, Ellie?”

She slid from the table. “Go home, I suspect.”

“Will you tell your father right away?” He followed her from the room, through his office and to the waiting room, fortunately empty of patients this late in the afternoon.

“Maybe. I don’t know. He’ll probably figure it out for himself soon enough.”

Win was surprised he hadn’t already, given the tight fit of Ellie’s dress. She was carrying high, and her waist had expanded enough to pull the buttons taut. “Will he help you?” Win asked.

Her shrug expressed doubt. “He don’t much care about me, Dr. Gray. So long as I keep things up, he lets me be. But he’s got a temper. I’ve seen him pretty near kill a horse that made him mad, and one day he beat the bejabbers out of a ranch hand who got drunk and didn’t get out of bed the next morning. Sent him on his way afoot, just carrying his saddle and a bundle of his belongings.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

She turned to face him, and Win saw the hesitant working of her mouth. “A little, maybe. Depends on how bad he needs me to work for him, whether or not I need to be dodging his fists.”

His stomach knotted as Win noted the lack of color in Ellie’s face. “Has your father abused you?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Not bad, no. He’s smacked me a couple of times, but he pretty much lets me be. I just know he’s going to be awfully upset when he finds out about this.” Her hand touched her abdomen, fingers widespread as if she could somehow protect the child within.

And wasn’t that a pretty future for a girl to face, he thought with a lump of despair in his throat. “If I can help in any way, Ellie, you know where to find me.”

He held the door open for her and she walked out into the late-afternoon sunshine. Hesitating on the stoop, she looked up at the sky, where clouds floated on currents of air. Those same winds held birds suspended aloft, wings outspread as they circled high above the wheat fields outside of town. “Sure is a pretty day, isn’t it?” she murmured, then, stepping to the ground, she trudged down the path to his gate.

“Come back to see me,” Win called after her impetuously, waiting for her nod as she unhitched her horse and climbed into the buggy next to his gate. He watched the slow movement of the horse as Ellie turned in a half circle, heading toward the main part of town. The dainty mare picked up her feet in a trot as she moved toward the mercantile, where townsfolk were still moving in and out of the wide double doors.

Ellie slid from the buggy seat, and Win watched as she tied her horse, then stepped onto the wide boardwalk and into the store. Her hand on the door, she turned in his direction and hesitated, then lifted her other hand in a small salute.

Grim. Her prospects were grim, he decided, walking back to his house, where the small waiting room, office and examining room took up fully half of the downstairs space. He straightened a chair near the door, then walked on through to where his cluttered desk awaited his attention. Several files, yet to be noted with patient information, were stacked on the right side of his blotter, and he settled into his chair to do the jotting of symptoms and treatments he’d diagnosed and prescribed for each patient.

Paperwork was the bane of his existence, but it was a necessary thing, and he bent to it with a will, aware that he must make notes while his mind still retained the information from today’s patients. Swiftly, he tended to business, moving the stack from one side of his desk to the other, noting with relief the absence of dire illness in the day’s allotment of sickness. The usual chronic ailments were to be expected: dyspepsia, a cough that seemed to have no reason for being, a broken arm to be checked and sutures to be removed from a ranch hand’s leg—the result of a horse’s misplaced hoof.

A clean file was taken from his drawer, a clean sheet of lined paper inserted and a name written on the top line. Ellie Mitchum. He looked at it, then added, in parenthesis, Eleanor. Age, eighteen. The next line was filled in neatly. Heart tones normal, skin clear, eyes…eyes, brown, he thought, his pen held over the paper. Hair, dark and waving.

Abdomen, filling slowly, but surely, with a baby whose mother could find no joy in the news of its conception.

Tess Dillard cast Ellie a glance, then took a second look, her forehead furrowing into a puzzled frown. “I haven’t seen you in a while, child,” she said softly. “You haven’t been to town lately, have you?”

Ellie shook her head. “I wouldn’t be here today, but for some things my pa forgot when he came in last week. I usually just give him a list of what we need, but he left it home last time.” And besides, she’d wanted to see the doctor. For all the good that had done her.

“Well, let me see what we can do for you,” Tess said, reaching for the folded slip of paper Ellie held. Her fingers touched the back of Ellie’s hand and lingered. “Are you feeling well?” she asked kindly.

Ellie stiffened, looking around for listeners. “Of course, I’m fine, Mrs. Dillard. I just have to hurry along today. I’ve got supper in the oven, and I need to be home before the roast gets overdone. Pa doesn’t like his meat cooked all the way through.”

Tess reached to the shelf behind her and lifted a metal container to the counter. “I’ve got spices in here,” she said, sorting through the tins it held. “Here we go. Cinnamon, and there’s another of nutmeg. Are you doing a lot of baking these days, Ellie?”

Ellie nodded. “I make pies for the men. Clyde does their meals, but I fix cookies and such for them. I only cook for Pa and me in the house.”

“Well, let’s see what else you need.” Tess placed the list on the counter and turned back to her shelves. “I’ve got liniment and a fresh supply of Dr. Wilden’s stomach remedy.” Her sharp eyes honed in on Ellie’s face. “Is that for you? You’re not feeling well?”

“Pa gets heartburn lately,” Ellie said quickly, feeling the telltale blush rise to color her cheeks as she told the blatant lie. “Don’t forget I need sugar, too, Mrs. Dillard.”

“Yes, all right,” Tess said, eyeing Ellie with suspicion. She leaned over the counter, her voice low. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m always available, honey. I know you’ve missed havin’ a mama in your life.”

“I’m fine,” Ellie said, desperate to be on her way. “Just put my total on the book if you will. Pa will pay when he comes to town next.” She gathered up the small pile of bottles and tins Tess had placed before her and held the assortment in both hands.

“Here, put that in this box,” Tess said, reaching beneath the counter for an empty cardboard container. Adding the sack of sugar, she reached for a peppermint stick and placed it amid Ellie’s purchases. “That’ll settle your stomach, Ellie,” she said quietly, pushing the box across the counter. “Just remember, I’m here if you need me.”

And that was the second offer she’d had today, Ellie thought, lifting the box and heading for the door. Striding out onto the sidewalk, then stepping down to the road, she ignored the passersby, nodding only when the tall minister of the Methodist church spoke her name.

“Ellie, we haven’t seen you in Sunday morning service for a long time. Don’t be a stranger now, you hear?” Reverend Fairfax said with a wide smile. He tipped his hat and moved along the road, speaking to another of his parishioners as he made his way toward his own buggy.

“I doubt you’ll be seeing me at all,” Ellie muttered beneath her breath as she untied the mare from the hitching rail. The box with her purchases settled beneath the seat, she climbed into the buggy and turned the mare toward home. Although seeing the kindly minister would have been a logical move if Tommy had stayed here, instead of moving back East. If he’d told his mother that he wanted to marry Ellie.

She sighed, envisioning the event. Her with a new dress maybe. Tommy with his hair slicked back and his smile flashing just for her benefit. She frowned, closing her eyes, as his image eluded her, replaced by the tall, kindly man who’d just rocked the very foundations of her world.

Winston Gray. No problem recalling him, she thought with a flash of humor.

Now, as to Tommy… Ellie squinted as the buggy headed toward the setting sun. Funny, she could barely remember what he looked like. And he was supposedly the love of her life. Although, hard as she tried, today she couldn’t come up with much more than lukewarm feelings for the man.

That she’d been a fool to listen to his palaver was a given. He’d played her like a shabby fiddle, plucking at her strings, telling her she was beautiful, just the girl he needed for a wife.

Beautiful, indeed. As if plain brown hair and eyes that matched were anything to talk about. But she’d listened, bewitched by the running on of his compliments, intrigued by his kisses that promised pleasure. But there’d been no pleasure to be had in his taking of her body, only a painful, embarrassing few minutes of prodding and thumping on her, while Tommy wheezed and groaned against her ear.

She’d been a fool. That fact recognized, she set about working on a plan to get her future in order. The first thing would be to tell Pa. And to that end, she set her jaw and considered the best way to approach George Mitchum.

No matter what she’d done, the results would have been the same, Ellie realized. She crawled with effort into her bed, aching in every muscle, bruised from the blows she’d accepted as her due from the man who’d sired her. The man who’d told her in no uncertain terms that she was no longer welcome in his house.

“You’ve got till tomorrow morning to be gone from here,” he’d shouted as she’d huddled in the corner of the kitchen. “I won’t have a bastard in this house. I always knew you were just like your ma. You’ll no doubt have a simpering girl child, just the way she did. Worthless females, both of you.”

Supper forgotten on the table, he’d stormed out the back door, leaving Ellie to consider the condition of her body. Her face hurt from two sharp slaps, and unless she was mistaken, her eye was swollen. If the aching in her arms was any indication, there’d be bruises turning blue by morning, where great hammy fists had punched her as she’d sought to protect the child she carried.

Her backside throbbed from several kicks and her legs bore bloody scuff marks from George’s boots, but there hadn’t been any serious bleeding done, and for that she supposed she should be thankful. She’d thought at first that he would surely kill her, but his look of disgust had not included a gleam of hatred akin to murder in his eye.

She sighed, curling beneath the quilt. Maybe Tess Dillard would be the person to seek out. Perhaps she could use a hand in the store, at least until Ellie found a better solution to her problem. And that didn’t seem likely, at least not for the next few months.

The house was quiet when she crawled from her bed, donning the same dress she’d worn yesterday. Her other two dresses, one she wore to do chores, the other her Sunday best, hung in the wardrobe and she gathered them, along with a spare petticoat and her good drawers, folding them all neatly into a small bundle. Two pairs of stockings completed her pile of belongings, and she stuffed the lot into a small valise that had been her mother’s.

Her chest of drawers held extra bed linens and a shawl. The shawl she took, along with her comb and brush and a small bottle of scent Tommy had presented her with. Lily of the Valley, it said on the gilt label, and she smiled ruefully as she recalled her pleasure in the gift.

On second thought, she decided, she’d do just as well without any reminders of Tommy, and cast the bottle aside. It was about as worthless to her as the promises he’d made and broken. She surely didn’t need to smell good for his sake anymore.

Damn Tommy Jamison, anyway. “I hope he rots in hell,” she whispered, and then slapped a hand over her mouth as she muffled the curse word she’d said aloud.

The kitchen was empty, the coffeepot cold. Pa must have taken breakfast with the men in the bunkhouse, she decided, heading for the pantry. Last night’s leftover beef and cooked carrots were on a platter, covered with a dish towel, and she wrapped a good portion in a clean napkin. It might be a long time before she found something else to eat.

Her final act was to take the sugar bowl from its place on the kitchen dresser. A handful of coins were in the bottom of the flowered china container. Pa didn’t hold with fancy dishes on the table, preferring to take his sugar from a jar. Ellie had squirreled away all her meager savings in the last piece of china left from her mother’s good dishes, and thankfully, George hadn’t discovered the cache.

She dumped them into her small reticule and replaced the bowl. Then in a moment of rebellion, she snatched it back and settled it in the top of her valise.

“It’s the last thing I have of yours, Mama,” she whispered. “I won’t leave it for him.”

The faraway sound of men’s voices came to her as she walked out the back door, looking toward the near pasture. The big farm wagon rolled across its width, filled with men holding scythes, her father holding the reins of his team of draft horses. One of the men, John Dixon, looked up, nudged another, and shook his head slowly in her direction.

Whether it was an expression of sympathy or a declaration of disgust she couldn’t tell, and as she set off staunchly down the lane toward the town road, she decided she didn’t care.

That she was a fallen woman was a fact she could face. That her father had turned on her with a vengeance beyond belief was more than a reality, as her bruised and battered body could attest. Her hips ached as she walked the length of the pasture fence. Her eye throbbed, and she squinted through its swollen slit as she turned onto the dirt track leading to Whitehorn.

The load she carried, her valise in one hand, her bundle containing food and every cent she owned in the world in the other, was heavy, yet not nearly so weighty as the pain of being an outcast. “He never loved me, anyway. I don’t know why I’m surprised he wouldn’t let me stay on and work for him,” she murmured to herself. “If I’d been a boy like he wanted, he might have been different.”

And wasn’t that the truth. She wouldn’t be in this fix if she’d been a boy. She’d have been the one doing the sweet-talking and taking advantage.

No. She shook her head. Even as a man, she wouldn’t have done what Tommy did, hurting another human being the way he had. Running off back East with his folks, not even a goodbye issued in her direction.

Useless. Pa had called her that, plus a few other choice names, none of which she felt were fit to pass between her lips. Her chin lifted as she paced along on the side of the dusty road. It was only two miles to town. She could make it in less than an hour.

And then what?

Chapter Two

Winston Gray was a good doctor. He didn’t need the opinions of the townspeople to recognize the fact, although they were ever ready with praise on his behalf. He’d filled a need in Whitehorn, and the men on the town council had been jubilant at his arrival.

They’d given him a house in which to live and set up his practice, and he’d been properly grateful, although they’d said it was just part of the package.

The rest of the parcel included a whole community of men, women and children who’d done without the services of a doctor for almost two years. Harry Talbert’s wife had done her best, but being the wife of a barber did not automatically fit her for the role she’d been called on to perform.

“I’m sure glad you came to Whitehorn,” she’d told him that first day when he climbed from the stagecoach. “I’ve had to sew up more cuts than you can shake a stick at, and deliverin’ babies is not what I do best.” Her grin had welcomed him, as had her unexpectedly firm handshake, matched by the dozen or so men who’d joined her to meet the stage.

He’d settled in nicely, awaiting the arrival of his office equipment, and the shiny, walnut desk he’d ordered from Saint Louis. For several months he’d spent time with the people of the community, tending to their problems, mending broken bones and stitching up their wounds, with an occasional delivery tossed in for variety. A box of medicine he’d brought with him kept his black bag supplied, and he’d ordered more as it was needed from a pharmaceutical outfit in Kansas City.

Now, his day half done, he polished the bell of his stethoscope with the cuff of his shirt sleeve, awaiting his first patient of the afternoon office hours. His morning and most of the night spent on house calls, he’d only just arrived back in town. He’d been at Caleb Kincaid’s ranch, setting a broken leg for one of Caleb’s ranch hands who’d been thrown from a horse.

Called from his bed just past midnight, he’d ridden to the Darby ranch, where Matt’s wife had delivered her fourth boy just after daybreak. She could have likely done it on her own, he recalled with a smile, but had gratefully inhaled the chloroform he’d dosed her with at the end.

Bone-weary, but willing, Win opened his office door, noting with thankfulness the dearth of patients. That would soon be remedied when the chill winds blew in from the north in the next few weeks, and folks began the usual run of pleurisy and other winter ailments.

He might do well to consider outfitting himself with a sleigh, once snow fell and the buggy could no longer traverse the open country. There were always folks needing house calls, those too old or infirm to make it into town. It was a part of the business he’d chosen, he decided, although business was too harsh and uncaring a word for the lifestyle he’d accepted upon finishing medical school.

Business best described the world of his father and uncles, the world of finance, where money was the god they worshipped, and his love of medicine and its benefits to humanity had met with scorn and derision.

“You’ll come crawling back one day,” his father had said, his voice harsh as he’d delivered his final thrust. There’d never been a word of admiration for Win’s success in medical school, or a note of support for his choice of medicine as a career.

Win took off his spectacles, recalling that day when he’d turned his back on family and the social scene in Saint Louis to come to this small town in Montana, where a doctor was desperately needed, and fervently appreciated.

“Doctor?” The outer door opened and Tess Dillard stood on the threshold. “Are you busy?”

Win smiled. The storekeeper’s wife was a lovely lady, friend to all, and one of his staunchest supporters, sending him all and sundry who complained of major or minor illnesses. “Come on in, Tess. I’m just wondering where all my afternoon quota of patients have gone.”

“It’s too nice out to be sick, Doc. This spell of warm weather won’t last forever, and folks are taking advantage of it. School’s started up early this year, but before you know it we’ll have snow falling. Time enough then to be visiting the doctor.” Her cheerful words only served to support his own theory, and Win motioned to her expansively.

“Come on in,” he said warmly. “Did you need to see me for anything special or is this a social visit?” He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not about to offer me up another young lady on a platter, are you, Tess? I told you I’m not in the market for a wife.”

She shook her head. “No, not this time, Doc, but one of these days, I’ll come up with a woman you won’t be able to resist.” She crossed the room and sat on one of the straight chairs he furnished for waiting patients. “There’s something going on I thought you needed to be aware of.”

Win joined her, pulling a second chair from its place against the wall and scooting it closer to where she sat. “What’s the problem? What can I do?”

Tess glanced out the open door. “I’m kinda keepin’ an eye out for the girl, Doc. I’m afraid she’s run out of choices, and I’m worried about her.”

“What girl?” Win asked, and even as he spoke the words, his heart sank. Ellie Mitchum. As sure as he was of his own name, he knew the words that would fall from Tess’s mouth next.

“It’s Ellie, George Mitchum’s daughter. I don’t know if you’re aware of her existence even, but she’s gonna need a doctor before long, and I’m afraid you’re elected. In fact, she could probably use some of your witch hazel and that arnica stuff you used on my boy’s banged up leg when he got it bruised so bad last month.”

“Tincture of Arnica,” Win said distractedly, his mind racing. “What are we talking about here, Tess? Have you seen Ellie today? What’s wrong with her?”

“You know her?” Tess frowned, taken aback by his recognition of the girl’s name.

Win nodded quickly. “She was in here yesterday. Said—” He halted the words that would have spewed from his lips. “Well, let’s just say she needed a bit of advice.”

Tess slanted him a knowing glance. “She’s going to have a baby, Doc. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

He nodded. “I noticed, all right. Did she tell you when she left here? I saw her stop at the mercantile.”

“No,” Tess answered. “I figured it out, once I took a good look at her. She hadn’t been in town for a couple of months, but I knew when I saw her comin’ in the door of the store she was in the family way. Now today, just after noon, she came walkin’ into the mercantile, and she’s all banged up. Looks like somebody ran her over with a team of horses.”

Win stood, his heart racing. “She was in an accident?”

Tess shook her head. “Not unless you call running into her father’s fists accidental. She looks like he pounded her good.”

Win felt his stomach clench, and anger rose to tighten his jaw. “She must have told him about the baby,” he surmised, wishing for just a moment that he could lay his hands on the brute who had fathered the young woman.

“I expect so,” Tess answered, her eyes bleak. “She came in to see me, asking if I could use her help in exchange for a place to stay for a while. Don’t know where she’s planning on going or what she’ll do when she gets there.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Win strode to the doorway. A vision of the young woman he’d seen yesterday appeared in his mind’s eye. That her piquant beauty should be marred by a father’s anger was not to be tolerated. And yet, there would be no one to stand up for the girl. A father was the authority in today’s society, especially here on the edge of civilization.

He turned abruptly. “Tess, where is she now?”

“At our place, stretched out on a bed. She was absolutely exhausted, poor child. I made her get washed up and showed her the bed. She didn’t even have the energy to eat something first, just plopped down and closed her eyes.”

Tess looked at him expectantly. “Will you do something to help?”

“You got something in mind?” he asked.

“I thought maybe she could come in by the day and do for you. You know, cook and clean, maybe.” Tess surged to her feet. “No woman deserves to be an outcast, Doc. And I’m afraid that’s what’s in Ellie’s future. There’s certain women in town who will turn their backs on her once everyone realizes her condition. And there’s others who’ll sympathize, but keep quiet.”

“Cook and clean.” As if his mind had latched on to the phrase, he repeated it, almost absently. And then he cast her a penetrating glance. “This isn’t one of your matchmaking projects, is it?”

Tess colored, shaking her head. “No, of course not. For heaven’s sake, a doctor should have a wife above reproach in the community. That’s why I’ve tried to get you interested in several of the young women from the better families.”

“Ellie told me my yard needed watering,” Win said, a smile coming to life as he recalled her words. “Send her over when she wakes up, Tess. I’ll see what I can do.”

The scraps from last night’s roast lay heavy in the pit of her stomach as Ellie awoke. Sleeping the afternoon away wasn’t something she generally did, and the undigested food she’d eaten on the long walk to town hadn’t agreed with her. She struggled to sit upright, the bed having an unfortunate tendency to sag in the middle.

Once on her feet, she scooped her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and sought out the hairpins she’d placed on the night table. It might not be neat and tidy, but it was as good as a hairdo could be expected to look when a day had gone as poorly as this one.

The scent of chicken cooking lured her to the kitchen, and she crossed the room to the back door, opening it wide, inhaling deeply of the fresh air. Food was not at the top of her list right now, but Tess and John Dillard would be home from the mercantile soon, and if supper was ready, they would probably be most appreciative.

The oven held a whole roasting hen and from the looks of it, it only needed potatoes and vegetables added to complete the meal. Ellie explored the pantry, finding a bucket of new potatoes, and a bunch of carrots. Cooking gave her a sense of accomplishment, and she scouted out a paring knife, her capable hands readying the vegetables for the oven. A pan of stale bread, cut up into cubes, told her that Tess had plans for chicken stuffing, and in minutes, Ellie had cut up an onion and found spices to complete that dish.

She drained broth from the roasting hen into the bread pan and mixed the stuffing quickly, placing it in a greased tin to bake. Outside the back door, two little girls played in the afternoon sunshine, and waved in her direction when they saw her in the doorway.

“Mama said to let you sleep. She told us we wasn’t to disturb you,” the tallest of the two said cheerfully. “This here is my friend Alice. And I’m June-bug. At least that’s what my papa calls me. And sometimes he calls me an afterthought.” She grinned widely. “I don’t know what it means, but he always laughs and hugs me when he says it.”

June-bug. Ellie smiled, even as a sadness descended over her. Imagine having a father who would designate his daughter as such, who would tease the little girl with a nickname, bringing smiles to her freckled face.

“June-bug sounds like a wonderful name,” Ellie said. “I’m just Ellie.”

“My mama told me. Is that what your papa calls you?”

Ellie nodded. But not lately, she thought, the memory of those hated appellations he’d shouted in her direction coming to mind. Not lately.

“Are you cookin’ our supper?” June-bug asked. “I can smell chicken.”

“Your mama had it in the oven. I’m just putting some potatoes and carrots in with it.”

“She’ll be glad,” the child said with a sharp nod. “She’s kinda tired when she gets home. And when my sisters got married last year, there wasn’t nobody left to cook dinner, but me and Mama. And she won’t let me touch the stove without her bein’ here to watch.”

Tess was more than glad, her words joyous as she followed John into the house less than an hour later. “You didn’t have to cook for us,” she exclaimed, eyeing the pan Ellie had just taken from the oven. “But I surely do appreciate it, Ellie. June said you were making biscuits when she looked in the door a while ago.”

“We may just keep you,” John teased, up to his elbows in soapsuds as he washed up at the sink.

Ellie smiled, forcing a pleasant look, as she caught sight of Tess’s sympathetic glance in her direction. She’d looked in the mirror herself; knew the sight of a swollen eye and cheek would be causing talk around the town should she appear in public. It was enough that she’d paraded down the road with her head bowed, finding her way to the back door of the mercantile in order to see if Tess could use any help.

“You’ve got no need for me,” Ellie said bluntly. “But I’ll find something to do. Maybe I can get a job at one of the ranches.”

“I may have something in mind,” Tess told her. “I stopped by to see Doc Gray earlier. He might have need of you. Man never eats right, and he’s having to send out his washing to be done. I’ll warrant his floors haven’t seen a scrub rag in a month, since he had Eula Peters in to clean up things.”

“Dr. Gray? You want me to go clean his house and cook his meals?” Ellie closed her mouth with a snap of her jaw. “He can’t afford to have a woman like me hanging around his neck. Folks would talk if I were to work for him.”

“Just go and see what he has to say,” Tess told her soothingly. “I suggested it and he didn’t seem to take it poorly. In fact, he told me to send you over. He wants to talk to you.”

Ellie gritted her teeth. “I’m going to need a place to stay. I don’t think it’ll work, Mrs. Dillard.”

“Let’s eat first,” Tess suggested. “And then you can go talk to him.”

Ellie wavered. “I’ll walk over there a little later on. I don’t want any more folks to see me than have to, with me looking like this.” She bent to take the stuffing pan from the oven. “I hope you don’t mind that I made this. I saw the bread all cut up and I thought it was what you intended.”

“You’re a gem, Ellie.” Tess’s praise was heartfelt as she sank into a chair at the table. “I’m not usually one to take advantage, but I’ve had a long day. I thought I was doing well to come home long enough to stick a chicken in the oven. Hadn’t even gotten as far as what we’d have with it.”

“Well, if I can’t do much else, I’m a good cook. At least my pa never had any complaints,” Ellie said stoically. Her gaze scanned the table, where plates and silverware awaited. “I guess you can eat now.”

“Aren’t you going to join us, Ellie?” John asked, glancing at his wife with a puzzled look.

“I’m not hungry,” Ellie admitted, sidling toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a walk around the back way to the doctor’s house. If he’s willing to give me work, I can’t afford to turn it down.”

“Take some of this chicken with you,” Tess offered, rising quickly and bustling to the cupboard for a container. “We’ve got more than enough. Unless I miss my guess, Doc will be thankful for a decent meal.” She darted a look at Ellie, and smiled widely. “Maybe he’ll be impressed if you tell him you did the cooking.”

The bread was moldy and the milk had gone sour. All in all, supper looked to be a complete disaster, Win decided. Scrambled eggs didn’t taste like much without a piece of bread alongside, and he’d lost his appetite for them anyway. With a shrug, he left the kitchen to stalk through the living room, and sat down on the front stoop, reaching to pet the stray cat who’d been hanging around lately.

“I’d give you the milk, cat, but you’d turn your nose up at it,” he murmured. He glanced toward the hotel, where the dining room offered a decent meal. Somehow, it seemed to require too much effort, and he decided to settle for a can of peaches from the pantry.

A movement caught his eye and he turned his head to where a woman’s slight form approached from around the corner of the house. “You weren’t in the kitchen,” Ellie said, “so I came around, hoping to find you.” She carried a pie tin, covered with a bleached dish towel, and his hopes for a decent meal rose from the depths to a more palatable level.

“What’s that you’ve got?” he asked, aware of an optimistic note in his voice.

“Mrs. Dillard sent over some of their supper, in case you’re hungry,” Ellie said. “I’d hand it over, but the pan’s hot, and you don’t want to burn your fingers. I suspect your patients would admire you more without blisters.”

He grinned at her dry remark and hastened to open the screen door. “Come on in, Ellie. Go on through to the kitchen and put it on the stove.” He followed her, lured by the scent of chicken, and watched as she lowered the tin plate to the back burner. Placing the dish towel she’d used for padding aside, she removed the covering.

“I made stuffing to go with Mrs. Dillard’s roasting hen, and I brought plenty for you. I must have thought I was gonna feed an army, with the big panful I put together.”

“Tell you what,” he said hastily, reaching for a cupboard door. “I’ll get out some plates. It looks like there’s enough for both of us.” He turned to look at her, dishes in his hand. “Or have you eaten already?”

She shook her head and he scrutinized her in the dim light, then decided against lighting a lamp. “I’m not real hungry,” she said quietly. “But I’ll be glad to dish you up some.”

“Sit down, Ellie,” he told her, and she sat on the nearest chair, then glanced up quickly, as if his firm tones might give way to anger. Placing two plates on the table, he lifted the meal she’d carried to his door and divided it, allowing himself the larger portion, knowing she would protest otherwise.

After retrieving two forks from the cutlery drawer, he approached her, then squatted beside her chair. His hand lifted to touch her swollen flesh and she flinched. “I won’t hurt you,” he said calmly. “I just want to see how much bruising you have.”

She nodded, sitting quietly beneath his touch, and he silently cursed the man who had done this. “Is there more?” he asked as he rose and circled the table.

Ellie hesitated. “Some.”

Win picked up his fork and took a bite, savoring the flavor of chicken and stuffing. “Where,” he asked after a moment.

Ellie looked up, startled, then replaced her empty fork on the table. “In places you don’t need to see.”

“I’m a doctor, Ellie.” He took another bite, and nodded at her. “Eat now and we’ll talk about it later.”

She sighed and obeyed his dictum, bending a bit, perhaps to hide the damage done her face, he thought. The next problem would involve coaxing her to allow him to examine the full effects of her father’s wrath.

The few bites of food left over from their meal were scraped onto a small dish on the back stoop for Win’s porch cat, and Ellie smiled as he described the stray who’d adopted him, taking occasional meals from his hand, although he didn’t allow her entry into the house. The dishes were washed with hot water from the reservoir on the side of the big black cook stove, and Ellie dried them carefully, putting them back in the cupboard.

“Mrs. Dillard says you might want me to do some work for you,” she ventured as she emptied the small dishpan and wiped it out with the cloth she’d used.

“That’s right,” Win answered. “I need someone to do up my washing. I’ve had the woman at the hotel doing it, but I fear she’s partial to bleach, and my best blue shirt has blotches all over it. I’d thought you might take a hand and see if you could keep me in order.”

“You need someone to cook?” she asked diffidently. “I’m pretty well able to keep a kitchen, and I’ve always been a good hand at housework.”

“I think we could work something out,” Win said quietly, watching as she wiped the table, then picked up the broom. “You don’t need to sweep right now,” he told her. “Come sit with me and we’ll talk.”

Her eyes darted in his direction and then back to the darkness that had gathered as the sun settled beneath the horizon. “I’ll light a lamp,” he offered. “It’s getting too dark to see in here.”

She nodded, settling in the chair across the table. Her hands were folded neatly before her, and he looked down as he lifted the globe of the lamp to light the wick. “Would you rather I lit a candle?” he asked. “I have a good supply of them.”

She shook her head. “The lamp’s fine. You can take a look at me and see for yourself I’m not hurt bad. You don’t need to worry about my eye,” she said with a wave of her hand “I’ve seen worse on men after a Saturday night on the town.”

“Men from the ranch where you lived with your father?” he asked, sitting down again to face her.

She nodded. “I did a little mending when they got banged up. Used witch hazel and carbolic acid, and even stitched up a few cuts before you came to town.”

He smiled, admiring her nonchalant description of the chores she’d been called upon to perform. “So I put you out of business, did I?”

Her eyes were warm as she turned them in his direction. “I didn’t mind. I never much liked tending to the men. Sometimes they made me feel odd, like they were looking at me funny. You can have the whole kit and caboodle of them.”

“They looked at you funny?” He caught the offhand remark and dwelt on it. “Like men do here in town? As if they admire your pretty hair or your smile?”

“I don’t have pretty hair,” she said firmly. “It’s brown and gets all tangled up and in my way. My pa won’t allow me to cut it, said the good book is against women having short hair.”

And wasn’t that the first thing he’d found to admire about the brute? Win nodded agreeably. “I like long hair myself,” he said affably. “And whether you realize it or not, yours is lovely.”

Ellie reached up self-consciously to smooth the stray locks from her cheek, tucking them behind her ears. “We need to talk about my working here,” she told him. “I need a place to stay, first off. Is there any chance I can have a room out back? I see you’ve got a shed on the back of the house.”

“You can have a room upstairs,” he told her. “There are three bedrooms there, and I have one down here. There’s plenty of furniture that came with the house and more in the attic if the room you choose doesn’t have what you need.”

He held up a hand, gaining her silence as she would have spoken. “I know you think the folks in town will talk, but I don’t think they’ll trouble you. Once it’s known that your father took out his anger on you the way he did, I’ll be considered the man of the hour for taking you under my wing.”

“You think so?” She sounded uncomfortable with the idea, yet the first sign of animation crossed her face. “You don’t think they’ll take it wrong?”

“Lots of single men have housekeepers, back in the city where I come from,” he said firmly. But none so pretty as you. The thought flashed through his mind before he could snatch it, and he considered the idea.

If Ellie thought herself unattractive, she’d been looking in the wrong mirror. Dark hair with red highlights, gathered from the lamp overhead, tempted him to gaze in her direction, and velvet couldn’t begin to describe the soft warmth of her brown eyes. Even the one that had a swollen lid owned a hopeful cast, and he smiled as her lips quirked just a bit.

“We could try it out,” she ventured. “Maybe see if what I do is up to snuff.”

He nodded, gesturing to the clean kitchen that surrounded them. “You’ve done just fine so far. I expect a meal on the table in the mornings by seven o’clock and maybe a bite to eat around noontime, when I get back from house calls. And then when my day is over, if you could have something hot on the back of the stove, I’d surely appreciate it.”

“Do you have fixings for breakfast in the pantry?” she asked, her eyes looking toward the narrow opening on the opposite wall.

“Not much of anything. Just some eggs I got at Tess and John’s place. My milk’s sour and the bread I bought from Ethel Talbert, the lady next door, went moldy on me. I think there’s some canned goods, but I eat at the hotel a lot, when I think of it.”

“Can they cook good? At the hotel I mean? I’ve never eaten anywhere but at home.”

“Not as good as what I had tonight,” he told her. “I’ll have to watch that they don’t coax you to work there, once they find out I’ve hired the best cook in Whitehorn.”

She smiled again at his teasing manner, and he felt the warmth of her approval. “You don’t have to say nice things about me, Dr. Gray. I’ll just be grateful for a chance to rest in one place until I know what I’m going to do.”

“You’re welcome to do that here, Ellie. And while we’re alone, I’d like you to call me Win, or Winston, if you’d rather.”

She’d begun to look more hopeful and he flashed her a smile. “I think we’re going to be good friends, Ellie. If you don’t mind, we can begin by shaking hands and striking a bargain.”

Ellie offered her slender hand in his direction, and Win took hold of it, cradling it in his palm as if it were a wounded bird and he must treat it with care. “What’s our bargain?” she asked, color rising on her cheeks.

“We’ll share this house, and you’ll do what’s necessary to make my life more comfortable. In return I’ll pay you a good wage and tend to your bruises.”

She tugged her hand from his. “My bruises are fine, all but a couple on my leg. If you’ve got some carbolic salve I’ll dab some on. They’re looking a little angry around the edges.”

He stood and rounded the table. “Let me look,” he said firmly, squatting before her. His hands were warm, and strong, and when he lifted the hem of her dress to expose her ankles and calves, she allowed it. Above the tops of her shoes, several scabbed-over areas took his attention, and he stifled the urge to curse aloud.

“Let me get my bag, Ellie. You sit right here and wait for me.”

Chapter Three

“That should help these spots heal faster,” Win said, eyeing the areas he’d cleansed and anointed with salve. “We’ll just put on a bandage for tonight. By morning you can leave them open to the air.” Each scabbed and scuffed area was covered with soft fabric, and held in place by a strip of cloth circling her leg.

He’s a doctor. The words whirled in her head, rebuking her as she felt distinct pleasure in the touch of warm hands against her skin. His head bent over his work and she was afforded a bird’s-eye view of his dark, crisp waves. Stunned by the sudden urge to place her fingers there, to know for herself the texture of those masculine curls, she clenched her hands into fists and buried them in the fabric of her skirt.

“There, that should do it,” he said, easing her skirt down to cover her legs almost to her ankles. “Now, where else are you bruised?” he asked, standing erect to replace the roll of bandage in his bag. At her silence, he sighed. “I only want to help, Ellie.”

Untangling her fingers, she unbuttoned her cuffs, rolling up the long sleeves she’d been careful to use as coverings for her arms. No matter how warm it became, she’d determined to hide the evidence she wore there from shoulder to wrist. Now, it didn’t seem nearly so important that she admit defeat at her father’s hands.

Win was silent as she revealed the purpling bruises, but his hands were tender as he bathed them with wool batting, dousing them well with witch hazel. “It’s an old remedy,” he said as he opened the bottle, “but it seems to work well. Mostly, the blood will have to dissolve back into your system. I fear there’s no rapid recovery from bruising.”

Ellie nodded agreeably. “I’ll just keep them covered for a while.”

Win cleared his throat. “Is there anything else I need to tend to? Your father didn’t hurt your stomach in any way?”

She shook her head and grimaced. “No, that’s why my arms got all banged up. I had them wrapped over my belly and when he was hitting on me, they took the brunt of it. My hip is sore where he kicked me, but there’s nothing broken. I’ll get over it.”

He pressed the bottle of witch hazel into her palm. “Here, I’ve got lots more where this came from. Promise me you’ll use it tonight. And, Ellie…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “If you should have any pain or bleeding, let me know right away. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Ellie looked up. “I reckon I’ve about got over the whole mess already.” There was enough pain and some to spare, but she suspected it wasn’t the sort of thing he was hinting at. “I expect I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be fussing over me, Dr. Gray. I’m the one that’s supposed to be looking after you.”

“Starting tomorrow,” he told her. “Now, let’s walk you back to Tess and John’s place and get your belongings.”

“You want me to stay here tonight?” The thought was daunting, that she should be given a room on the second floor of this big house, all for her own, with nothing more to do than keep the place clean and cook three meals a day for her keep.

“I don’t see any reason why not,” he said. “I’ll want to explain things to the Dillards though, so folks will understand the arrangement.”

Gathering her scant supply of clothing from June-bug’s bedroom took little more than a moment, and Ellie walked back into the kitchen in time to see Winston Gray shaking John Dillard’s hand. Win looked up as Ellie stood just inside the doorway, a question in his eyes.

“Yes, I’m ready,” she said. Her valise packed full with all but her mother’s shawl, she approached Tess. “Thank you for…” She looked around the kitchen, then back at the woman who’d come to her aid. “For everything,” she finished lamely. “I appreciate your kindness, Mrs. Dillard.”

“I think you might call me Tess.” Her fingers touched Ellie’s cheek and warmth flooded the area, as though affection gave healing to the skin she stroked. “I’ll be over to look in on you tomorrow. Doc says you need foodstuffs, so just make a list and I’ll carry it to you.”

The immensity of her situation seemed staggering as Ellie considered the offer. “I don’t even know what he likes to eat,” she murmured.

“Most anything you cook will be better than what he’s been puttin’ in his stomach lately. I’ll get some staples together for you tomorrow,” Tess told her, turning her toward the back door. “You run along now. Things will work out.”

Things will work out. The words resounded in her head as Ellie prepared for bed. Clean sheets and a worn quilt covered the feather tick, and its comfort tempted her as she blew out the lamp and glanced from the bedroom window. A light blazed from the house next door, and she caught a glimpse of a woman’s form, silhouetted and unmoving. And then the shadow turned and the unmistakable burden of pregnancy altered the vision she watched.

A man entered the room and Ellie watched, unable to turn away, breathless as the tall, dark-haired figure approached. Bending to look into her face, he took the woman’s hands in his and then drew her against his body. The image of tenderness she beheld brought tears to Ellie’s eyes, and she turned away, feeling she had somehow violated a private moment.

Stunning in its simple beauty, the image beckoned, and she looked back. Only darkness met her gaze. The light was extinguished, the second floor room darkened.

She sank into the bed behind her. The feather tick welcomed her aching body, and she curled on her side, one hand pressing against the firm swelling of her belly. A movement deep inside caught her attention, and a gentle nudging pushed against her hand. She held her breath, and again the skin beneath her fingertips was rippled by the tiny presence within. With a sigh of delight, Ellie closed her eyes.

If there was truly a God watching over her, as the minister had said in a sermon on one of her occasional visits to church, then surely he must be taking a hand right now.

The woodstove was familiar territory, and Ellie peered into its depths to gauge the amount of kindling she’d stacked. She’d found a small case of sulphur matches in the pantry and placed a box of them atop the cookstove. Now with a scrape on the side of the box, she set a match ablaze, firing the kindling, then quickly added small lengths of wood. Watching as they caught fire and began to burn, she bent to the wood box, lifting three larger chunks, enough to make a good cooking fire.

In ten minutes she could begin breakfast, and to that end she scouted out the pantry shelves. A flour bin held enough for biscuits, and she found a can of lard with a good scoop left on the bottom. Sniffing it, she decided it had not gone rancid. But the addition of lard went on the mental list she was concocting as she worked.

A pot of coffee was the next detail, she decided, and a blue speckled pot sat on the back of the stove. She rinsed it at the pump and filled it halfway, then added a handful of coffee from a jar on the shelf. Cracking an egg, she dropped it into the water and placed the pot on the front of the stove, where the hottest fire would burn.

A knock on the back door caused her to tremble, and she looked over her shoulder, the thought of her father speeding to the forefront of her mind. A woman cupped her hand to peer through the screen door, and Ellie sighed with relief.

“Good morning.” It was a cheery greeting and Ellie hastened to open the door. “I live next door. He gets bread from me when he takes a notion, but he hasn’t got a fresh loaf for pretty near a week,” the neighbor said, her gaze sweeping Ellie from stem to stern. “I’ll bet you’re the young lady who’s going to be doing for him.”

“You’ve heard about me?” Ellie asked, astounded that the news had traveled so quickly.

“Tess Dillard told me late yesterday afternoon that he was thinking of taking on a housekeeper. The man needs looking after, sure enough.” The loaf of bread she carried was placed on the table and then the woman headed back to the door. “If you need anything else, just call out. I’m Ethel Talbert. My husband Harry owns the barber shop.”

She was past the screen door and halfway across the yard before Ellie caught her breath. Scurrying across the kitchen, she leaned out the door. “Mrs. Talbert, where can I buy some milk?” The biscuits could be put together with water, but they wouldn’t be near as good, and, for Winston Gray, Ellie would beg, borrow or steal what she needed to serve him a decent meal.

“Land sakes, child. I didn’t think about that. I’ve got extra. Come along and I’ll send you some back.”

Patting her hair and brushing the flour from her hands on a dish towel, Ellie scampered across the yard, past the hedge of bushes and up to the neighbor’s back door. A quart jar was being filled from a crock, even as she watched through the screen, and in moments Ellie was carrying it back to Win’s kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Win stood just inside the doorway, rolling up his shirtsleeves as Ellie scooted past him. “You out visiting already?” He reached to brush at her cheek. “You’ve got flour dust all over your face,” he said, grinning at her.

“I thought I wiped it all on the towel before I went to Mrs. Talbert’s house. I just borrowed some milk from her so I can make biscuits. I hope you have baking powder or soda.”

“Both, I suspect,” he said, entering the pantry. “Though I don’t think I’ve used either. When I moved in, Tess brought over what she thought I needed to furnish my kitchen, but most of it is still just like it was that day. I’m not much of a cook.”

He sat down at the table, watching Ellie knead the biscuits, then cut them into circles with a water glass and place them on the baking pan she’d located.

“You do that well,” he said, sounding pleased. “This idea is gaining ground.” He peered past her to the stove. “Is that coffee I smell?”

Ellie nodded and found a cup for him. “If you have something you need to do, I’ll start the eggs in a few minutes. The biscuits won’t take long.”

He chuckled. “I’m enjoying this, Ellie. No one’s cooked for me since I left home, and that was a long time ago.” He sipped from the cup and placed it on the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“How could anyone not sleep, all cozied up in a feather tick?” she asked. And then remembered the neighbors in their bedroom. “Who lives on the other side of you, the house I see out my window?”

“That’s the sheriff, James Kincaid, and his wife, Kate. She’s been teaching school for a little over a year now. They say she’s a crackerjack. Keeps the big boys in line. The kids all seem to like her. Word is she’s a good teacher.”

“And they’re going to let her keep on teaching after the baby’s born?”

“Yeah, I understand the town council has given permission for her to take the baby to school with her unless she’s decided to get someone to watch it. They’ve really gone overboard to keep the sheriff happy. In fact, school was in session early this year. They figure to let the students out for a couple of weeks when Kate delivers.”

The biscuits were golden and tender, the eggs scrambled and waiting, and Ellie poured a second cup of coffee for Win as he picked up his fork. “Aren’t you eating with me?” he asked. “Get yourself a plate, Ellie. You cooked enough for both of us.”

The intimacy of sitting at a breakfast table with a man was unsettling, Ellie thought. Her father had insisted on her staying by the stove to serve him while he took his meals, and she was left with whatever he chose not to eat. She’d taken to standing at the window with a plate or pot in her hand as a result, and decided quickly that the pleasure of sharing a meal was something she could get used to in a hurry.

“I’m going out on house calls,” Win told her, placing his plate in the dishpan. “I should be back a little after noon. Maybe you can find something in the pantry for a sandwich for me.”

He waved a farewell and vanished through the kitchen door into the long hallway that divided the lower floor into his offices and dwelling place. And then the front door closed and he was gone.

Ellie looked around the kitchen, then walked to the back door to look out upon the sadly neglected grass and flowers in Win’s backyard. She smiled as she considered the joy of plucking back the dead growth, of watering and watching the flowers flourish, of tending the soil. Stepping out onto the stoop, she lifted her face to the morning sun and inhaled deeply, tasting the scent of freedom.

“Is Doc around?” Tess Dillard called through the back screen door and opened it at the same time. “Ellie? Are you here?”

Ellie clattered down the stairway, then hurried through the hallway to the kitchen, almost colliding with Tess in the doorway. “He’s gone on house calls,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“Cam from over at the saloon asked me to locate Doc. Said one of his girls needs to be patched up.” Tess grimaced. “I think a customer got rough with her. Cam said she’s bleeding.”

“Is she cut?” Ellie asked.

Tess shook her head. “I don’t think that’s what he meant.” She looked past Ellie toward the door leading into the other side of the house, where the office was located. “Did he say how long he’d be?”

“No.” With a shake of her head, Ellie walked into the kitchen. “He’s been gone quite a while. Left right after breakfast. He didn’t say where.”

“Well,” Tess said with a sigh, “I don’t think an hour or so longer will make an awful lot of difference anyway. Just tell him Cilla needs to be looked at.”

“Will he know where to go?” The thought of Winston Gray tending to a saloon girl didn’t appeal to her for some reason, and Ellie swallowed her distaste. “Does he get called over there often?” she asked hesitantly.

“They’re pretty sturdy females,” Tess said with a chuckle. “They take care of themselves most of the time. But once in a while…” She pursed her lips and eyed Ellie thoughtfully. “There’s men who don’t care how they use a woman,” she said.

And whatever that was supposed to mean, Ellie assumed it didn’t bode well for the ailing Cilla. “I’ll tell him when he gets back. He said to have something ready for him to eat at noontime, and the sun’s about overhead already.”

“Are you getting along all right?” Tess asked, looking around the tidy kitchen. “I planned on bringing you a grocery order this morning, but I clean forgot when I set out to find Doc. If you can think of anything you need, write a list for me to take back.”

“He likes eggs, I think. At least he ate three of them for breakfast. And I’ll need some meat to cook for his supper. I don’t know where I should go to get it.”

“There’s a side of beef hanging out back in the shed behind the store,” Tess said. “I’ll have John cut you off a piece for a roast and bring it over. You’ll want some potatoes, and maybe beans or carrots to go with it. John can use the wagon and bring you a burlap sack of spuds and a bucket of carrots. I’ll add everything to Doc’s account.”

“I know how to put stuff up if Doc has canning jars,” Ellie offered. She crossed to the pantry and looked in the lower shelves. “Do you suppose there’s some in the cellar?”

“This place was picked clean when the Chambers family moved out last year,” Tess told her. “I doubt there’s anything left. I’ll scout up some jars and lids and rubber rings for you and send them along.”

“I saw some onions going to seed by the side of the house this morning,” Ellie said. “Maybe they’re still good.”

Tess sat down at the table. “Let’s just make a list. I think this is going to be a long, drawn-out project we got going here.”

Ellie found a tablet Win had left on the kitchen buffet and located a pencil. Her heart raced as she considered the task ahead. “I may have more to do than I thought at first,” she told Tess with a grin. “Here I was, thinking I’d just have to keep things redd up and put meals together. I think I’ll be starting from scratch, won’t I?”

“You’ve run a house before, haven’t you?” Tess asked, scribbling one item after another in a rapid fashion. “Your pa never had a housekeeper, did he?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, and I’ll bet he’s up to his neck in dirty dishes by now. He was never much of a hand at cleaning up behind himself.”

“You wouldn’t go back out there, would you, girl?” Tess’s hand stilled as she looked up, and her eyes narrowed as she waited for Ellie’s reply.

It was quick in coming, a single word uttered with no chance of mistake. “No.” Ellie shivered as she stood abruptly and wrapped her arms around herself. Her jaw was set, her shoulders squared as she paced to the back door and looked out onto the ragged patches of grass. “I’ll never set foot on the place, not so long as I live. If I have to take off down the road and live in a cave up in the mountains, I’ll do just that, rather than let him touch me again.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve got a notion Doc talked to Sheriff Kincaid about you. I doubt your pa would stand a chance of making you go back home.”

“He said I was his property, just like his livestock, and I had to do whatever he said.” She grinned suddenly. “First time I ever enjoyed taking orders was when he said I had to leave by morning. I figured anyplace else was better than living there.”

She turned back toward Tess and approached the table. “I’m going to do a good job for Dr. Gray. He won’t be sorry he took me on.”

“He’s a kind man, Ellie. And you don’t have to worry about him ever taking advantage.” Tess looked down at her list, then nodded briskly. “I think this will do it.” She rose and pushed her chair beneath the edge of the table. “I’ll run on over to the store and get things together. You’re gonna need some clothesline and pins, too. I’ll warrant Doc’s got wash piled up.”

She was gone in a moment, and Ellie took a deep breath. There was so much to consider, things she’d taken for granted, like a scrub board and washtub to be located, and a supply of dish towels to be made. It was almost like having a home of her own, she decided. Almost.

“Eat your dinner first,” Ellie said as Win picked up his bag from the table. It had barely touched its surface when she delivered the news about the saloon girl, Cilla, and his hand had reached for it without pause. “I made you a pot of potato soup. Tess sent over a slab of bacon and I flavored it with that and a good big onion.”

Win hesitated, one hand rubbing his stomach in a distracted motion. “Maybe I’d better,” he said. “It’s hard to say how long I’ll be over at the saloon. And there’ll be folks coming in for afternoon office hours before long.”

He replaced his bag and turned to the sink. “I’ll just wash quick while you dish me up some soup, Ellie.”

She had it on the table in moments, slicing bread to go with it as he sat down and picked up his spoon. “Won’t you eat with me?” he asked, watching as fragrant steam rose from his bowl. His spoon dipped in and he blew on the creamy broth, then bit down on a chunk of potato. His eyes widened as he chewed and swallowed, then dipped again. “You got some secret recipe?” he asked. “This is wonderful.”

She shook her head. “I just scraped a little carrot in it, and thickened it up.” Pleased by his response, she dished up a portion in a second bowl and joined him. “You don’t mind if I eat with you?”

He glanced up, his brow furrowing at her words. “Of course not. I told you at breakfast time to sit down with me.” He ate silently for a moment, watching her. “Didn’t you share meals with your father?”

“He said it was a woman’s place to wait on menfolk.”

“He was wrong, Ellie, and don’t you forget it.” His tone was mild, but the look he bent in her direction was stern. His hand touched her arm, a gentle nudge that made her look up. “Women may get the short end of the stick when it comes to keeping a house in order and providing for the needs of her family, but it’s a man’s obligation to make her life as easy as he can. And that includes those to whom he pays a wage.”

And wasn’t that a different way of looking at things? Ellie thought with a start. That a man should be concerned about a woman’s well-being was a concept she’d never heard voiced. And yet, that seemed to be what Winston Gray was talking about.

She washed up the dinner things after he left for the saloon, his final words of instruction spoken as he walked out the door.

“Prop open the kitchen door and listen for the front door, Ellie. If patients come in, tell them I’ll be back directly. They can wait in the outer office for me.” He stuck his head back in the door. “If you have time, make a list of them as they come in and I’ll take them in order.”

So it was she came to be sitting at the small desk in his waiting room an hour later, talking to a young mother who held one sick child while Ellie amused another. Win’s brow rose and a grin curved his mouth as he caught her eye. “Send my first patient in, will you, Miss Mitchum?”

“Yes, sir,” she said agreeably, rising to settle the small girl on her chair as she picked up her list. “Mr. Taylor, you can go in now.”

The room held only three remaining patients as Win leaned through the office door more than an hour later. “I can finish up now, if you need to see to supper,” he told her quietly. And Ellie escaped thankfully to the kitchen, aware of the curious eyes that had watched her for the whole of the afternoon. No one had questioned her, yet all had paid her mind, and she felt she’d been on display, sitting behind the desk, calling out names, and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The potatoes were ready for the oven and she placed them around the piece of beef she’d put in the roasting pan earlier. Carrots swam in the broth, and two onions sent a savory aroma upward as she opened the oven door. By the time the table was set, the last patient had taken his leave, and Win joined her in the kitchen.

“You were a big help, Ellie,” he told her, washing at the sink, his shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows. “I don’t usually have so many patients in an afternoon. I think they made up for yesterday.” He peered over her shoulder as she stirred flour and water into the pan, watching as it thickened into gravy. “You’ll have me spoiled.”

She felt a warmth take hold of her, and she turned her head to look up at him. “I think it would be a joy to spoil you, Dr. Gray.” And then she looked away, flustered at the words she’d spoken without forethought.

A flush crawled up his jaw and centered on his cheekbones. “Thank you. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.” He turned away and sat at the table. “I saw the girl at the saloon, Ellie. I thought seriously about bringing her here for you to tend, but she didn’t want to leave her friends there.” He glanced up at her. “I didn’t know if it would be the right thing to do, anyway. I wouldn’t want folks to talk about having her here with you.”

“What would they say?” she asked, dishing up the meat and vegetables with ease. Placing the platter before him, she poured the gravy into a deep bowl. “If a woman’s been hurt, what does it matter who she is? If she needs taking care of, I reckon I can do it.”

“I thought you’d feel that way,” he said, dishing up food onto his plate. “But Cilla said she’d be all right, and the other girls will look out for her. I told Sheriff Kincaid about the ranch hand who hurt her, and I believe he’ll handle it. Not that most folks would think much of it.”

“What can he do?” Ellie asked, sitting down across the table from him.

Win shrugged. “Not an awful lot. Just warn him to behave himself. I don’t think Cam will let the fella in the place again anyway.”

Ellie took up her fork. “Did he hit her?”

“It wasn’t so much that, Ellie,” Win said slowly. “Billy’s set on stealing money that’s hidden in the foundation of the addition to the saloon. He made the mistake of telling Cilla about it, and then decided he’d better convince her not to spill the beans about his plan to anyone else.” His mouth was taut as he paused, as if he chose his words carefully. “Don’t repeat what I just told you, Ellie. Cilla told me in confidence and I probably shouldn’t have repeated it, but I’m certain I can trust you.”

His head bent as he spoke and Ellie remembered Tess’s words. There’s men who don’t care how they use a woman. What Tess had meant, Ellie wasn’t sure, but good sense prevented her from asking Win. Maybe it was like when Tommy had hurt her, that day in the barn. She’d bled, and ached something awful for a couple of days, as if there was something all torn up way inside of her.

“Do any of those women have babies?” she asked quietly.

“Babies?” Win sounded surprised. “I doubt it, Ellie. At least, not that I’ve ever heard about. Those girls pretty much know how to prevent such things from happening.”

And wasn’t that a puzzle. If Tommy had given her a baby from his shenanigans that day, it made sense that… She halted that line of thought and bent low over her plate. There were things she needed to be asking Tess, that was for sure, and one of these days, she’d get up the nerve.

For the first time in months, Winston Gray went to bed with a full stomach and the sure knowledge that a good breakfast would be awaiting him in the morning. He grinned to himself as he lay in the center of the big bed, his hands stacked beneath his head. Ellie was working out well. His house was clean, his pantry organized, and she was planning on using a scrub board to do his clothes, first thing tomorrow.

She’d washed her hair in the new bucket after supper, out on the back porch where she couldn’t be seen by those who might pass the house, and he’d watched from the doorway as she dried it with his newest towel. Her hands had been adept, brushing the length of soft, brown silken strands, then braiding them in a simple plait that hung down her back.

The sight bothered him, setting up a yearning he tried his best to dismiss. A woman was the last thing he needed in his life right now, what with his practice taking up all his time.

But, Ellie was proving to be a complication. She felt grateful to him, trying her best to make his life an easier path, and his very masculine self could not help but wallow in the attention she gave.

That her soft eyes rested on him often was a fact he tried diligently to ignore. That his own gaze focused on her at times was to be expected. She was a lovely woman, a girl really, he decided. Pregnant though she was, she projected an aura of innocence that brought forth his male urge to protect and cherish.

And those thoughts needed to be banished, he decided abruptly, rising from the bed to stalk to the window. Ellie Mitchum was his housekeeper, and he’d do well to look upon her as a servant. His snort of laughter was swallowed as amusement followed that thought. She was like no servant he’d ever come in contact with, and there’d been plenty of them in his life.

None of them had followed him to bed at night, as had the woman who slept overhead. Not in physical form, certainly, but in his mind. And she’d only been here for two days. He shifted restlessly, stretching one long arm to rest against the window frame.

Taking Ellie Mitchum into his home had been a hasty decision. Taking her into his life would surely follow. Already, she was keeping him awake and on the edge of arousal.

His mind spun as he considered the state of his body. Damn. Having a woman in his bed was the last thing he needed to be thinking of.

Visiting the saloon today had given him access to several women, any of whom would welcome him into their presence. All but poor Cilla, that victim of a cowhand whose idea of persuasion involved brutality.

Ellie was another victim. Not as was Cilla, but certainly worthy of his care. And for all of her innocence and eagerness to please, she was a woman. A warm, needy female, sleeping in his house. And if Dr. Winston Gray knew what was good for himself, he’d get her youthful beauty out of his mind.

Otherwise, he was going to spend a sleepless night.

Chapter Four

“You think you’ve fallen into a soft bed, don’t you, girl?”

George Mitchum’s words were harsh and accusing, piercing Ellie’s thoughts. Startled, she dropped the shirt she held into the dirt; then, gathering her courage to face the man behind her, she bent to pick it up.

“Drat,” she whispered, aggravated at the mud that stained both the shirtfront and one sleeve. Carefully, she placed it beside the wash basket, then turned to look at her father.

“I’m working for my keep,” she said quietly. “Same as I did at home.”

“Does he know you’ve got a bastard under your skirts?”

Scornfully, he tossed the query in her direction, his eyes raking her figure with a scalding look, then seeking her face. With every speck of courage she possessed, Ellie met the gaze he turned on her.

“Doc Gray knows I’m going to have a baby, yes.” Pain swept through her, that her own father could be so cruel. Yet, what had she expected? That he would come to visit, seeking her out to ask forgiveness for his brutal actions?

Not likely, she thought, her lips tight as she fought the trembling that seized her. “I didn’t get this way all by myself,” she said curtly, wary of the clenched fists hanging against George’s thighs.

“You flaunted yourself, just like all women, looking for—”

“Is there a problem here?” Win’s voice was stiffly polite, his words reeking of a courteous inquiry as he spoke from the back door. Long strides brought him to Ellie’s side and she straightened her spine, lest she be tempted to lean against his stalwart strength.

“This is my daughter,” George said sharply. “I don’t need you interfering. Seems like you’ve already stuck your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“All I’ve done is hire Ellie to be my housekeeper and tend to my kitchen,” Win said quietly. “You’re trespassing, Mr. Mitchum, and causing Ellie to be upset. I don’t think you need to say any more to her.”

“Well, well,” George drawled, rocking back on his heels. “Looks like you got yourself a champion, girl. At least he won’t have to worry about getting you in the family way, will he? Since you’ve managed to do that already.”

Ellie shot a look at Win, noting the crimson streaks that lined his cheekbones. “He’s my employer, Pa. Nothing else.”

“You just keep tellin’ folks that, girl. Not that anybody’s gonna believe you.”

“They’ll believe her, Mr. Mitchum,” Win said forcefully. “The truth always manages to win out in the end. And Ellie is being honest with you.”

“I doubt you’ll have much of a practice left when folks realize you’re harboring a woman like Ellie under your roof,” George sneered. “And I’ll see to it that they know what’s goin’ on here.”

“Why’d you come here, Pa?” Ellie asked in a small voice. “Haven’t you already done enough damage?”

He shook his head, his eyes sweeping over her face. “Not near as much as you deserve, shaming me the way you have.”

From the other side of the yard, near the sheriff’s back door, a woman spoke. “Good morning, Doc. Does James need to walk on over there?”

Ellie gasped. It wasn’t bad enough that Pa was giving Win a rough going over. Now the neighbor had to be privy to the shame of it all.

“I think Mr. Mitchum is leaving, Mrs. Kincaid. Thanks just the same.”

“Good morning, Ellie,” Kate Kincaid called cheerfully. “I heard at the mercantile that you were going to be my new neighbor. Why don’t you step over, and I’ll pour us each a cup of coffee.”

Ellie turned slowly to face the neighbor. That the invitation was an escape route was all too obvious, and yet she hesitated leaving Win to face Pa alone.

It seemed Dr. Gray had other thoughts on the matter. His hand touched Ellie’s shoulder. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Ellie. Go on across and visit with Kate for a while. You can finish the wash later.” More than a suggestion, his firm tone implied an order, and Ellie cast one quick glance at his stern profile.

“Yes, all right,” she said breathlessly, and lifting her skirts, she turned and hastened across the yard to where the neighbor watched, a determined smile curving her lips. Kate Kincaid was definitely the woman in the window, Ellie decided, except that by daylight, she wore small spectacles. Her body heavy with advanced pregnancy, she was nonetheless a beautiful woman, her dark hair and delicate features only enhanced by the sunlight.

And with a soft word of welcome, she cast Ellie a lifeline she felt sadly in need of this morning. Behind Ellie, her father muttered a profanity and Win murmured an answering phrase, one Ellie could not decipher. It mattered little. If Win was willing to face George on his own, and obviously he was, Ellie was more than willing to let him. She stepped onto the low stoop as Kate opened the screen door wide.

“Come on in,” she invited, waiting until her guest was over the threshold before she allowed one last look at the two men who faced each other some seventy feet away from her back door.

“Sit down, Ellie,” Kate said quietly. “You look like you’re about to pass out cold.” A cup of steaming coffee appeared before her, and Ellie gripped it with both hands, craving the heat of the cup against her chilled skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you got involved in this, ma’am. But I surely appreciate you allowing me to escape my father. Maybe Dr. Gray can persuade him to go along and let me be.” To her enormous shame, hot tears cascaded down her cheeks as she spoke, her voice choking on the words.

Kate settled across the table, easing her pregnant body onto a chair. “Well, I’m just glad he didn’t call my bluff, Ellie. James is already gone to his office, and I’d have looked mighty foolish trying to call him home to take a hand. I figured your father wouldn’t know I was lying through my teeth, insinuating that James was in the house.”

Ellie lifted the cup and sipped at the strong brew. Her hands trembled, but she persisted, knowing that the warmth would penetrate and soothe her inner trembling. Kate watched silently as the cup was settled back on the table, and Ellie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. Tears were dried and her nose attended to before she spoke again.

“Did Tess really tell you I was next door?” she asked. And then added in a hesitant whisper, “Did she tell you about me?”

Kate nodded. “She was pleased that Doc hired you on. It’s a wonderful place for you to stay.” She pushed a plate across the table. “Here, have a cookie, Ellie. I baked this morning. James loves Saturdays. During school months it’s the only day I can devote to being a wife.”

“And you teach at the schoolhouse all day, every day?” Ellie asked, reaching for a cookie.

“I’ve been there just over a year now,” Kate told her. “I’m probably the first woman to teach during a pregnancy, and I’m still surprised that the town council agreed. I’ll be taking a couple of weeks off when the baby comes, and then he’ll go with me every day.”

“They’ll let you do that?” Ellie asked, stunned by such a thing being possible.

“It looks that way,” Kate said. “They thought for a while that they had a man available for the job, but Will Kincaid gave him a job at the bank. Jonathan, the fella who came to take over my place, decided it was easier handling folks’ accounts and sitting behind a desk than coping with a schoolroom. They’re looking for another teacher now, but in the meantime, I’m it.”

“When do you think—” Ellie faltered, her gaze resting openly on Kate’s girth.

“Probably in a couple of weeks. Doc says babies have a schedule of their own.” She leaned over the table and her eyes twinkled behind the round lenses of her spectacles. “I happen to know something Doc doesn’t. And if I’ve got it figured right, my nine months will be up two weeks from today.”

“Nine months. That’s how long it’s supposed to take?” Ellie asked. “I didn’t want to sound foolish in front of Doc, and I never knew anyone before who was going to have a baby.”

“You don’t have a mother?” Kate’s eyes were kind, her hand reaching to clasp Ellie’s fingers. “No one to talk to?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, just my pa. And he’s never been one to do much talking. At least not to me.” She glanced toward the door. “It’s quiet out there. Do you suppose Doc convinced my pa to leave?”

“He’s gone for now,” Win said from just beyond the screen door. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, ladies,” he said, opening the door and stepping inside the kitchen. “I’m afraid I made him angry, Ellie. He’s determined to give you a bad name, it seems.”

“I think I’ve already done that, without any help from him,” Ellie said, resignation shadowing her words. She picked up her cup and held it between trembling hands.

“Is there any chance you might marry the baby’s father?” Kate asked quietly.

Ellie shook her head. “He’s gone back East with his folks.”

“Sounds like a fine specimen of manhood to me.” Kate’s eyes flashed with scorn as she rose to find a cup for Win. “Have a cookie, Doc,” she said. “It’s good for what ails you.”

“I thought maybe you could keep an eye on things while I’m out making house calls this morning, Kate. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt for Ellie to keep an eye on you. Are you feeling all right?” He cast a measuring look at Kate, and she rested her hand atop the rounding of her belly. “You’ve dropped, haven’t you?”

“It’s easier to breathe, the past couple of days,” she admitted with a grin. “Is that a good sign?”

“The best,” Win said. “It won’t be long now.” He frowned at the coffee and shook his head. “I don’t have time for this, but I’ll take a couple of your oatmeal cookies with me, if that’s all right.”

Kate laughed. “There’s more where those came from. Tess told me I’m nesting. I’ve been baking and cleaning house like a madwoman this morning. James made me promise to send for him if I have so much as a twinge, and now you’re siccing Ellie on me. I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

“Well, Ellie’s worked hard ever since she got here. It won’t hurt her to take a day off.” Win headed for the door. “I’m going to stop by and talk to James. I’ll let him know you’re in good hands, Kate.”

“Billy Barnes is Cilla’s current flame, Doc.” James leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “She’s clammed up about the whole episode, so there’s no use in you worrying about it.”

“Has he pulled this kind of stunt before?” Win asked. He settled on a straight chair across from the sheriff’s desk and crossed his ankles. “You know, I put in a nasty thirty minutes with her. There’s no excuse for a man hurting a woman that way.” His disgust reflected in his voice and manner.

Win drew a deep breath. “It’s bad enough when someone gets shot up or falls off the roof, but to see a female used the way Cilla was makes my blood boil.”

James nodded agreement. “I think they go back a ways. He’s been hanging around the Double Deuce for over a year, and Cilla’s the only girl he pays much attention to. Matter of fact, he used to do carpenter work around town till just lately. Now he’s dabbling in ranching out at Caleb’s place.”

“Well, I don’t like the man, and I’ve never laid eyes on him,” Win said bluntly. “And I’m about half-mad at Cilla, that she’s not willing to make a fuss over it, but…” He paused. “I guess I understand. She’s afraid of him.”

“Saloon girls are a breed apart,” James told him. “I’m just happy I’ve got Kate. I never had much truck with the women in saloons. I think a man’s got to be pretty hard up to…” He paused for a moment, and then a grin lit his face. “I didn’t know how lucky I was gonna be the day Kate came to town.”

Win sat up straight in his chair, another thought manifesting itself at James’s words. “You know that Ellie Mitchum is living at my place, don’t you?”

James nodded. “I heard. Her pa came by here a few minutes ago and told me she was living in sin.”

“And what did you say?” Win asked mildly.

“Not much I could say. It’s none of my concern. Not unless George tries to force her back home. I heard from one of his hands that George roughed her up and sent her on her way. Seems like he’s singin’ a different song today. I’ll warrant he’s missing having regular meals and clean clothes. The talk is that he treated her like a servant. I don’t think there’s many folks would take kindly to him dragging Ellie back home.”

“He’s not dragging Ellie anywhere,” Win said, rising and stalking to the doorway. His anger was quick, remembering the belligerent stance George had taken. “He thinks I’ve taken the girl to my bed, James.”

“She’s a good-looking young woman,” James said quietly. “I think he won’t be the only one with that opinion.”

“It’s not true.”

James nodded agreeably. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I won’t take advantage of her.” Win felt a heated flush rise to his throat. His thoughts had been roaming in that direction last night, he reminded himself.

“You need a wife,” James told him. “Ellie wouldn’t be a bad choice for you.”

“You ever heard about falling in love with a woman first?”

“Yeah.” James grinned. “But sometimes there’s other reasons for marriage. And having a woman around isn’t the worst of them.”

“Wait till I tell Kate you said that.”

James shrugged. “Kate knows I love her, and a lot of that came later down the line. Ellie’s a good girl. There’s never been a breath of scandal about her till the Jamison boy started keeping company with her. And then the whole damn family vamoosed and went back East. It’s not too hard to figure out why, I guess.”

“Well, her father’s not going to drag her home,” Win said harshly. “If I have to, I’ll marry her myself. There sure isn’t anyone else lining up for the job.”

“Now, I heard that Tess has been scouting up women for you to consider ever since you came to town.”

“That’s true. The woman can’t stand to see an unmarried man.”

James leaned forward over the desk, looking up at Win. “All joking aside, Ellie would make a good wife, Doc. You could do a hell of a lot worse.”

“How did we get into this discussion?”

“You brought it up,” James told him. “I just pointed out a few facts. Just thought you might like to consider all the angles.” He grinned up a Win. “I’m an agreeable sort, Kate tells me.”

“Well, I’ve got a couple of house calls to make,” Win said. “I just wanted to let you know that Ellie’s keeping Kate company for a while. In case her father comes back, I’d just as soon she wasn’t alone at my place.”

“You going to church next Sunday?” James asked as Win stepped over the threshold, bringing him to a halt.

“You got some reason for asking?”

“If you take Ellie with you, it’ll set folks talking, you know.”

“They’re probably already hashing me over,” Win said defensively. “If Ellie wants to go to church, I’ll take her.” He stomped across the sidewalk and headed for the livery stable, where he kept his horse and buggy. And then paused midstep. He’d forgotten his bag with all the to-do about Ellie and her father.

It didn’t look to be a wonderful day, he decided glumly, heading for home.

Church had been barely tolerable, Win thought, walking beside Ellie as they left the small, white chapel. They’d been the focus of all eyes, even though he’d been as decorous as possible, speaking when spoken to, and ignoring the sidelong looks of the women in the congregation. Ellie, oblivious to the attention they’d garnered, had sung with a sweet soprano voice, and listened intently to the minister’s sermon.

“Well, we managed to raise a few eyebrows,” Win said gruffly, slowing his pace for Ellie’s shorter steps. Hands shoved into his pockets, he knew he was being taciturn, but being the subject of gossip didn’t set well with him.

“I know I’m not dressed for church,” Ellie said quietly. “I probably shouldn’t have gone till I could afford a new dress. It’s just that Pa didn’t take much stock in church-going and I didn’t get to attend service very often. Only if he was in a good mood or one of the men had to go to town on Sunday and I could hitch a ride.”

“He let you out and about with a ranch hand?” Win asked, his brow lifting as he considered the idea.

“They knew not to make advances,” Ellie said softly. “Pa would have fired them on the spot if they looked crossways at me. Not that there’s much to look at.”

The girl honestly didn’t know how pretty she was, Win decided. She wasn’t a great beauty, but with decent clothes to wear and the healing of her bruised face, she’d be more than presentable. Her hair alone was enough to make a man sit up and take notice.

She’d brushed it early this morning, there on the back porch, while she thought he was still abed, and again he’d watched her through the screen door, his gaze devouring the heavy tresses that waved the length of her back. She’d been so unaware, so innocent of guile, her body moving in an unconscious rhythm, and Win had found himself yearning to bury his hands in the depths of those rich, brown curls. He’d warrant not another man alive, not counting George, had ever seen the sight, and a twinge of satisfaction brought a smile to his face.

“What’s funny?” Ellie asked suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Win shook his head. “Far from it, Ellie. I’m just remembering how beautiful your hair looked when you brushed it, out on the back porch this morning.” He met her gaze and his only thought was to banish the look of wariness she wore like a second skin.

“You’re a lovely woman. Any man would be proud to have you in his home.”

“You must be blind in one eye and can’t see outta the other,” she scoffed, and yet a blush tinged her cheeks with a rosy hue.

“I’m not blind, Ellie. I’ve seen more pleasingly arranged features than yours, perhaps, women who spent long hours to make themselves attractive. I’ve known females with elegant wardrobes, and the money to buy jewelry and pay for fancy hairdos.” He hesitated at her stricken look, and then reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as he turned to face her.

“You don’t understand, honey,” he said quietly. “They don’t hold a candle to you. None of them.”

Doubt made her toss her head, and he recognized the air she assumed. “I know what I am,” she said proudly. “A woman without means, having to work for everything I own. And that’s all right, Winston Gray. I’m proud that I can work hard and earn my way. You don’t have to try making me feel good with fancy words and—”

“Hush,” he said quickly. “I’m not doing that. I’m telling you the truth, Ellie, and you’re too stubborn to recognize it. You’re a woman any man would be pleased to claim as his own.”

“Oh, sure,” she said curtly, her lip curling in derision. “I’m gonna have a baby, and I wasn’t even bright enough to know the difference between being in the family way and dying of a tumor. I’m sure some handsome man is gonna come after me with a wedding ring in his hand.” She pulled her fingers from his grip.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc. You sure don’t know much about men, and the way they look at women like me.”

She stalked down the road ahead of him, and he stepped double-time to catch up. “You’re the one who’s all wet, my dear,” he said firmly, his hand circling her arm and slowing her pace. “I know exactly how men look at a woman like you.” He stopped dead in his tracks and brought her to a standstill next to him.

“I’m a man, Ellie. Do I need to remind you of that?”

She shook her head dumbly, her eyes wide.

“And I know exactly how I’m looking at you.” His jaw clenched as his eyes focused on her face.

She was pale, her mouth trembling, and even as he watched, a lone tear slid from each eye to dampen her cheek. “Don’t be mad at me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stand it if I did something to get you riled up.”

Shame buried his aggravation, and he bowed his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just can’t stand for you to think of yourself in such a way.” His fingers loosened their grip and his hand rose to her face, fingertips tracing the damp trails.

“You’re a wonderful young woman, Ellie. You’re strong and honest and worthy of any man in this town.”

“I don’t want any man in this town,” she said quietly. “I just want to work for you and stay in that beautiful room you let me have, and make flowers grow in your yard.”

“I’d say that’s little enough to ask of life,” he told her, bending to touch her forehead with a gentle brush of his mouth. Drawing her hand through his arm, he turned them in the direction of his house, aware of a buggy that passed, conscious of two families who walked on the opposite side of the road…and mindful of the lapse he’d just committed.

Kissing Ellie was like placing an item in the weekly newspaper. Dr. Gray To Marry Ellie Mitchum. He might as well have announced a forthcoming wedding while he sat among the parishioners in the community church just moments ago. That the word would spread like wildfire throughout the county was a given. He could no longer keep Ellie in his home without making her his legal wife.

Thankfully, the news took almost a week to reach Ellie’s ears, and then it came from Win, himself. She’d spent long hours scrubbing floors and windows. Her arms ached from washing curtains and ironing starched ruffles, and her back protested the reaching to hang every blessed thing she could find to wash on the clothesline.

But the results were worth it. Winston Gray’s house gleamed from top to bottom. His floors shone, his rugs had been beaten properly and every window was framed by freshly washed curtains. All but the living room, and those draperies had been shaken and wiped with a damp rag, before Ellie rehung them.

Kate had ventured over once to see what was going on and declared that Ellie made her tired, just watching the momentum she’d developed. Admonishing the girl to slacken her pace, Kate had waddled back next door, and then set off for school for the afternoon classes.

Ellie smiled as she scrubbed, pleased at Kate’s interest, touched by her concern. But pleasing Win was her first consideration, and though he cautioned her against climbing to hang the curtains, he’d obviously been pleased at the end results of her whirlwind of activity.

“I never thought this old place could look so good,” he told Ellie, leaning against the doorjamb one evening as she dished up supper. “I just don’t want you working too hard. Folks will think I’m taking advantage of you.” And with those final words, his mouth tightened and he walked toward her.

“Has anyone been by, Ellie? Have you spoken to any of the ladies in town?”

She shook her head, intent on pouring gravy into a deep bowl. “I’ve been too busy to go to the mercantile. Tess brought me a chicken and a slab of bacon this morning, and we talked, but she was in a hurry. She just wanted to know if I was doing all right.”

“And are you?” he asked, lifting the plate of fried chicken from the warming oven and transferring it to the table.

She cast him a questioning glance. “You know I am, Doc.” Ellie halted midway across the kitchen and turned to him. “She sounded kinda funny, though. She asked me if we’d talked about a change in my status. And I said, did she mean from poor to well-to-do?”

“Your status?” Win snatched at the word, well aware of Tess’s meaning.

“I suppose she was thinking how different my life is now, since I’ve been here. But I don’t know exactly what she meant.”

Win pulled her chair out and waited as she picked up bowls of vegetables from the stove. Watching him closely, she placed them on the table, then slid onto her seat. She’d eyed him curiously the first time he held her chair for her, but had come to accept the small courtesy without comment. He walked to his place and sat down, weighing his words carefully.

“I think she was referring to your status as a single woman,” he said. “I have a notion folks are wondering about us, Ellie.”

“What for?” she asked. “What is there to wonder about? I’m your housekeeper and you’re the town doctor.”

“Some folks saw me kiss your forehead on the way home from church Sunday morning, honey. There’s been talk.”

“People think I’m after you?” she asked, fingers lifting to cover her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. “I’ve never meant to—”

He reached across the table and clasped her wrist. “Don’t, Ellie. Don’t even think that. It’s not you they’re speaking of. It’s me. They think I’m taking advantage of you.” It wasn’t the sum total of the gossip that was circulating, but not for a moment would Win allow Ellie to be privy to the words that criticized her presence in his home.

“You haven’t,” she gasped. “Not for a minute. You wouldn’t.” Her head shook from side to side as she spoke, and tears formed in her dark eyes, spilling onto her bodice.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Win said, reproach gnawing at him. “But the truth is, I did kiss you, Ellie. And in so doing, I’ve compromised your…” Somehow, virtue wasn’t the correct word to use here, he decided.

“Reputation,” he finished with a nod.

“I didn’t have much of a reputation when I got here,” she said softly. “I’m sure that little peck on my forehead didn’t do a whole lot of damage.”

“Well, it made folks talk. And I won’t allow them to besmirch your name in any way.”

“You can’t go fighting any battles over me, Doc,” she told him. “I’ll just have to find someplace else to live.”

He shook his head. “Not on your life, honey. You’re staying here, where you belong.” Releasing her hand, he motioned to her fork. “Come on, now. Eat your supper, and I’ll tell you what I think we should do.”

Obediently, she picked up the utensil and speared a piece of carrot, carrying it to her mouth and chewing it, her eyes never leaving his face. And then she leaned back. “I can’t eat till you put me out of my misery, Doc,” she told him. “What are you planning?”

“Well,” he began, picking up a chicken leg and inspecting it. “You do fry chicken to a turn, Ellie,” he said with a grin, then turned the full force of that smile in her direction. His teeth bit into the tender meat and he chewed for a moment, wondering how she would take the revelation of his plan.

There was only one way to find out.

“Your father has been making noises again, about you living here. And along with folks being curious about my intentions, I’ve decided we should get married.”

Ellie dropped her fork, and it clattered against the thick china plate, then fell to the floor. “Oh, dear,” she whispered. “Now look what I’ve done.”

“I’ll get you another fork,” he said, rising quickly and walking to the buffet.

“Not that,” she said, her voice breaking as tears formed. She looked up at him and anguish painted her features. “I’ve put you in a terrible spot, Doc. You don’t want to marry me, any more than you want to…” She halted as if she could think of nothing horrendous enough to compare.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, placing the fork in her cold fingers. “Now, sit up there and eat,” he told her, circling to his own chair. He watched as she chewed and swallowed bites of potato and a forkful of green beans. Woodenly, she reached for a piece of chicken and ate it, her eyes fastened to her plate, as if something there was too marvelous to ignore.

“Ellie?” He spoke her name quietly, carefully, and was rewarded when she looked up at him.

“Doc? Are you funning me?” she asked, and beneath the scoffing words, he detected a note of hope.

“No.” His head shook slowly. “No, I wouldn’t do that, Ellie. You know me better than that, I’d think.

“I thought we’d go and see the preacher,” he told her, mindful of her stillness. She’d eaten a bit of the chicken, but not enough to please him. “If you eat everything on your plate, we can go after supper,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt.

She looked down with a frown. “I don’t think I have any appetite,” she said. “My mind’s just spinning around in a circle, and I feel dizzy.”

“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

Her color was good. In fact, he’d say she looked downright healthy. Except for the dazed look in her eyes, and that was to be expected, he supposed.

“No.” She shook her head. “I never faint. I come from sturdy stock. But I surely do feel like I’ve been dreaming and somebody’s gonna come by and pinch me awake any minute now.”

“It’s no dream,” Win said. “And nobody’s going to pinch you awake. I’m going to make a bride out of you, honey.” And if he knew what was good for himself, and for Ellie, too, he’d save the wife part for later.

Chapter Five

A fist pounding on the door caught Ellie unawares as she cleared the table, and within minutes, Win had spoken to the visitor and was on his way, black leather bag in hand.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he called back over his shoulder. “Depends on how much stitching up I need to do.” His response had been immediate, his mind set on the man who waited on a ranch outside of town, broken bone exposed, and in too much pain to be moved.

Ellie nodded in agreement, closing the door behind him, then set about cleaning up the kitchen. The visit to the parsonage would wait. Win’s patient would not. A glimmer of what life would be like as the wife of a doctor made her pause in her work, the dish towel caressing the plate she held.

Win’s face had been set in lines she was becoming familiar with, lines that bespoke his concentration on the task at hand. Nothing was as important to Winston Gray as the people who depended on him for the skills he possessed. A wife would come in second to that multitude, Ellie thought. And yet, even that fact could not dissuade her from the notion of marriage.

She’d protested mildly, yet her heart had raced with joy as he declared his intentions. Mrs. Winston Gray. The sound of those words vibrated in her mind as she rubbed the surface of the plate she held, and she spoke them aloud.

“Mrs. Winston Gray.” Her mouth curved in a smile as she repeated the title, drawing out each syllable with anticipation. She would walk by his side every Sunday morning from now on, march down the aisle of that small church and sit with him, her skirt touching his trousers, her hand occasionally brushing his as they shared a hymnal.

That a man like Win should consider marriage to Ellie Mitchum was not to be believed. And yet, he’d said it was so, that they would talk to the minister and then speak their vows. She would hold her head up, no longer the cast-off daughter, but the chosen wife.

He was handsome. There was no doubt of that, yet it wasn’t only his good looks that made her heart beat faster. Large, but well-formed, his hands were gentle. His body was tall and rangy, well put together, with not a trace of fat apparent. She knew the breadth of his shoulders, wide beneath the suit coat he wore, for only yesterday she’d ironed three of his shirts. They were tapered, by the looks of them tailored especially for him. Not for Win the merchandise from Tess’s store. Rather, the fine broadcloth of clothing that spoke of city stores and handmade garments.

Yet, there was more to Win than the outer trappings. Beneath the skin itself beat the heart of a man bent on helping those in need. Kindness was his watchword, Ellie decided, placing the plate in the cupboard and lifting another into the keeping of her dish towel.

He truly cared, and upon that quality hung his decision to marry her. She was only one in a long list of those he tended. In this case, he’d extended his helping hand to an unheard of magnitude, that of marriage to a nobody. And didn’t that put her in her place.

She sighed, examining the plate she’d polished to a fine sheen, and then lifted it to the glass-fronted cabinet where his dishes were stored. A blurred reflection met her gaze, and she saw, within the waving glass image, a woebegone female who, but for the tender heart of a doctor, was bound for despair.

Ordinary. That’s what she was. Ordinary, and in need. Without a doubt.

She bent closer to the reflecting glass. Surely something about her nondescript image must have appealed to the man. Not even Win would take a woman in marriage on the basis of compassion alone.

Ellie straightened, stiffening her spine. If he’d seen something worthy in her, then it would behoove her to seek out that same quality and shine it to perfection. She would be a credit to him, not allowing him to be shamed by her presence in his home.

“You need clothes. And you need them now. I don’t know what I’ve been thinking of, not taking you to the mercantile. Tess is sure to have dresses that will fit.” Win pushed back from the table and rose. “We’ll take a walk over there as soon as I run next door to check on Kate.”

The morning sun was high in the sky, and Win was in good spirits. The compound fracture had been set and the stitches put in place in record time, he’d told her. His arrival home, long after dark, had prompted her from her bed, and she’d poured him coffee from the pot left on the back of the stove, then sat with him at the kitchen table while he spoke of the house call.

And in all of that, she’d felt a foreshadowing of her life to come. Except for the moment when she’d rinsed his cup and turned it to drain, then left the kitchen. The stairs were long, her bedroom, for the first time, lonely. And below, she heard Win’s footsteps as he walked through the hallway and into his bedroom.

Would she still be relegated to this room on the second floor, once the vows were spoken?

The memory of Kate and James, that stolen moment she’d glimpsed on her first night in this house came to mind. A deep heat possessed her, one she was not familiar with, and she sighed, yearning for just such an embrace to be hers.

Now, Win waited for her, a quizzical look on his face, as she hastened to prepare for the excursion to the mercantile. Just inside the kitchen door, he watched as she wiped the tabletop, then hung the dishrag over the basin.

“Kate is chipper this morning,” he told her. “I found her on her knees, scrubbing the back stoop.” An amused smile lifted his mouth as he spoke. “I don’t think she’ll make it much longer. That baby’s about ready to make an appearance.”

“Will the children just stay home when she has the baby?” Ellie joined him and walked out the door he held for her.

“There’ll be enough for them to do this time of year. It’s time for the threshing anyway, and they generally close classes down for that. Kate couldn’t have planned this better if she’d tried.”

“I’ve never heard of a teacher taking a baby to school with her,” Ellie told him.

“Probably no one but Kate would do it.”

Admiration shone through his statement, and Ellie felt a twinge of envy tug at her. What would it be like to have him speak with such confident pride on her behalf? And then she stifled the emotion that craved such a thing. Kate was more than deserving of Win’s respect. Ellie had yet to earn it.

Tess waved a hand and beckoned them closer as Ellie stepped over the threshold of the mercantile, Win fast at her heels. “Come on in. You’re my first customers of the day. I’ll have to make a special effort to make a sale. My father used to say that if you made a paying customer out of your first visitor, your day would be a good one.”

Ellie was swallowed in the warmth of Tess’s welcome, and she approached the counter with a light step. “Win says I’m to have something new to wear,” she said, her tone low, as if she confided a secret to Tess’s ears.

“Well, isn’t that fine?” Tess turned toward the shelves closest to her stockroom and lifted a stack of dresses from a bin. She eyed Ellie judiciously and nodded, turning to sort through another selection, pulling three from within a second cubbyhole. “Let’s see if any of these please you, Ellie.”

Dresses in a rainbow of colors were spread on the counter within moments, and Tess grinned at Win. “Just got in a new supply, Doc. Must have known you were coming by.” She lifted one after another of the assortment, some of them striped, others flowered, all of them far beyond what Ellie had ever dreamed of wearing.

“I wouldn’t know which to choose,” she said with a sigh of pure pleasure. Her fingers caressed the fabrics, appreciating the smooth feel of percale, the ribbed texture of faille and dimity, the sheer elegance of batiste.

Tess leaned closer. “The garments in this stack are wrappers, Ellie. They’ll be just the thing for you right now. You won’t have to worry about them fitting properly, and they’re perfectly respectable for you to wear around the house.”

“They’re so…fancy,” Ellie said on an indrawn breath. “I can’t imagine wearing something like this to cook in or when I scrub floors.”

“Go ahead and pick out three or four for now,” Win said from behind her. “Tess will probably know which will give you the best wear. And don’t forget something nice to get married in.”

“Married?” Tess spoke the word as if it were some magic incantation, breathing it past lips that quirked at the edges, trembling on the verge of a smile. Then with a burst of laughter, she leaned across the counter and hugged Ellie, able only to clutch at the girl’s shoulders, what with over two feet of counter space between them. She whispered the word against Ellie’s ear. “Married? I’m so pleased.”

Ellie fumbled for words, and came up feeling tongue-tied. She should have known that Win would spill the beans, and yet to have him voice aloud his plans somehow made them more valid. Made the idea of being his wife almost a reality.

She blinked away moisture that clouded her vision, gritting her teeth, lest she make a spectacle of herself, right here in the middle of the mercantile. “Win just decided, actually,” she said quietly, then chanced a look in his direction.

His arm settled across her shoulders and he squeezed gently. “I think I took Ellie off guard, Tess. This has been in the making for a couple of days. I’m sure that’s not a surprise to you. I finally realized that I didn’t want to take any chances on some other young man coming along and snatching her away from me.”

“You work fast, Doc,” Tess murmured. “But I’m not surprised.”

“He feels sorry for me,” Ellie said wretchedly. “And he’s making it sound as though…” Words failed her, and Win filled the gap with a ready retort.

“Ellie’s the one who’s taken a tremendous responsibility. I’m just lucky to have her. I never knew how wonderful it could be to have a woman in the house, tending to things and giving me someone to share my life with.”

He turned Ellie to face him. “I guess I didn’t make it clear how I felt, sweetheart,” he said quietly, ignoring Tess, who had backed away at his words. “I’m not doing this for your benefit, although that comes into it somewhat, but for my own.

“I’ve made you cry again,” he said softly, his index finger sweeping tears from beneath each eye. He held her gaze, forcing her to recognize the sincerity of the words he spoke. “Don’t think I’m doing you a favor, Ellie. You’ll meet yourself coming and going in my household, helping in my office, and making my life easier.”

“Well, now that you’ve got that settled,” Tess said brightly, “let’s get this child something to wear.” She picked up a blue-flowered print. With puffy sleeves and narrow cuffs, it was the height of fashion, and Tess allowed the skirt to fall in generous folds as she held it in front of her own ample form. “This will be nice for when you sit in Doc’s office and keep track of his patients,” she said, folding it and placing it to one side.

Win backed away as Tess lifted another choice from the stack. “You two just go on and make a decision, Tess. I’ll run across the road and talk to James for a few minutes. Take what you want, Ellie,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “The sky’s the limit today. And don’t forget something nice for the wedding.” He whispered the final word, with a cautious look over his shoulder.

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