Читать книгу The Prairie Doctor’s Bride - Kathryn Albright - Страница 12

Chapter Four

The sun cast a pink glow over the entire town when Nelson left his office and walked toward the Oak Grove Town Hall. Since the evenings still carried the chill of winter, the shindig was taking place inside the building that Jackson Miller had just completed. From the street, he could hear the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter through the tall windows.

He stepped up onto the boardwalk and through the front doors. The new construction held the strong scent of fresh-cut lumber and varnish. He scanned the packed room, grateful to be a head taller than most of the people inside. The bachelors that had donated to the bride fund through the Betterment Committee milled about along with several other families from outside town. Guess they were anxious to gather and socialize. Another few weeks and they would be up to their necks in planting their fields or caring for the newly born calves. Getting away from their farms and ranches to have a moment of fun would not be possible until summer arrived.

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder. “I wondered if you would throw in with the rest of us, Doc.”

Graham turned. “Hello, Jess. Giving it another try?”

A wide grin covered the younger man’s face as he grasped Nelson’s hand in a strong shake. “Practice makes perfect, right, Doc? May the best man win.” Jess moved closer to the front of the room.

As he looked over the brides, Nelson reminded himself that he really needed a nurse. That was primary. Of course, he couldn’t very well blurt out his intentions here. The men of Oak Grove would likely show him the door. They wanted wives, helpmeets in life, and they wouldn’t take kindly to his motives.

His own parents’ marriage wasn’t the best standard to judge what a good marriage looked like, but it was all he had to go by. And what with his failed courtship, it seemed to him that sticking to a nonemotional, practical union made the most sense. It was safer.

Mayor Melbourne climbed the two steps to the small stage and stood there, gripping the lapels of his silk vest and surveying the group. He waved his hands for everyone to quiet down. Then he motioned to the new brides to come to the front of the room. He introduced each of the five and said a small bit about them.

The two older women stood next to each other, looking poised and lovely, while the three younger ones clustered together in a clutch like barnyard chickens. He grimaced. Perhaps that was a bit critical. Being observant was a good attribute to have in medicine, but not in social gatherings. It reminded him of something his father would say.

The mayor cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ll have the bachelors that donated to the Betterment Committee, and only those, line up now and introduce yourselves briefly to the ladies,” he announced.

Nelson counted twenty men who lined up. He stepped toward the back. As the men made their way across the stage, some were quiet and sincere, some cracked a joke to cover up their nervousness and some were eager to the point of embarrassing. It came to him that he was none of these. He simply wanted to assess each woman as unemotionally as possible. That way he could be sure his decision would be based on facts and not feelings.

His turn finally arrived, and he made his way down the row of five women, making mental notes as he went from one to the next.

Miss Vandersohn: Chestnut hair, dark green eyes. Petite like a china doll and well dressed. Beautiful.

Miss Pratt: The tallest. Older, black-haired and stern of face. Instead of curtsying as did the others, she gave a sharp nod of her head.

Miss O’Rourke: Older, blonde with cornflower blue eyes, with lines at the corner of her eyes. Pleasant-looking. He wondered what had happened that some young man hadn’t already snatched her up.

Miss Simcock: Youngest in appearance and a dishwater blonde. She blushed to the roots of her hair when he asked her a simple question and then barely got an answer out due to giggling nervously.

Miss Weber: Younger, chestnut hair, gray eyes, wine-red hat and cloak. Shy. By the shiny indentation on each side of her nose, she appeared to wear glasses, although she wasn’t wearing them now.

The moment the introductions were complete, the mayor motioned for the music to start. The bachelors surged back toward the five brides, in their excitement trying to muscle him to the side of the room. He didn’t budge.

He stood there a few minutes more, observing the hoopla. None of the women would be able to focus on him with all the other men in the room. He would rather visit them at another time when he wouldn’t be interrupted.

“That exam table working out for you, Doc?” Jackson Miller said as he approached.

Nelson shook his hand. “Fine. Not a splinter gained among any of my patients so far. Fine work.”

“Glad to hear it.”

They stood there a moment, arms crossed over their chests, watching the melee in communal silence.

“I wonder what surprises will appear among these women,” Miller mused out loud. “I don’t think any will match the amount that my Maggie made.”

Nelson chuckled. “Probably not. I can’t see any of these landing in jail.”

Miller’s wife had arrived on the first bride train, along with her sister, Mary. At the time, Nelson had had issues with the tonic Maggie tried to pass off as a remedy for just about every conceivable ailment. A family recipe, she’d said. Since then, the reticence she once carried toward him had begun to ease. A good thing because Miller’s Cabinetry Shop stood near his office and they crossed paths often.

“I don’t see you rushing in with the rest,” Miller said. “No one strikes your fancy?”

Nelson surveyed the women once more. “Five does.”

Miller’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Five? As in number five? Better not let the lady hear you call her that.”

“Miss Weber. I think she’ll do just fine.”

“Do?”

Nelson nodded but didn’t elaborate on his thoughts. She was young and strong. She was also quiet. He liked that. If she took instruction well, he could train her precisely how he wanted things done.

The clear bell tones of a woman laughing sounded. Number One drew his gaze. She was a stunning woman. There was a reason he didn’t want a beautiful woman, but at that moment it escaped him.

Beside him, Jackson took a long swallow of beer.

“On second thought,” Nelson said, “I think I’ll start with Miss Vandersohn and go through them one at a time.”

Jackson spit out his mouthful of brew. “You’re serious!”

“Yep. That’s how I’ll do it. Steady and methodical.”

A slow grin grew on Jackson’s face. “I’d try to warn you off such a crazy plan where women are concerned, but I don’t think it would do any good. Take it from me. You don’t stand a chance if the right one comes along.”

“We’ll see who is right when the time comes.”

“Sure, Doc,” Jackson said, shaking his head as he walked away.

A sense of purpose filled Nelson. By the end of the month, per their contract, the women would have to marry. He had four weeks to get this part of his life in order. He would call on Miss Vandersohn first thing in the morning and start things moving forward. A stroll perhaps to show her the sights of the town.

His decision made, he spun on his heels and headed out the door, leaving the gaiety and the noise behind him.