The Prairie Doctor’s Bride. Kathryn Albright

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      Before she could think to react, the tall man scooped it up, saving the eggs just inches from the hard floor. His actions were so quick and precise that Sylvia stood there in shocked silence, her mouth gaping open, as he handed the basket back to her.

      “It appears none are injured,” he said in that deep voice.

      She closed her mouth.

      His gaze, green as the pines in the Shenandoah, skimmed over her, before he turned back to Carl. “How’s that rope burn?”

      Carl scowled. “Healed up.”

      “Glad to hear it.” The man didn’t budge. He seemed to be just fine with waiting for Carl to make the next move.

      Carl scowled again. He tugged his wide-brimmed hat down over his ears. “Guess the fun’s over. Gotta get back to the stockyards anyways.”

      It was all Sylvia could do to hold in her relief as he stomped away. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and in the case of the Caulders, she’d learned it was half-rotten before it hit the ground. Only Thomas had been different, taking after his ma’s side of the family instead of his pa’s. She’d been wary of Carl for some time, but when he didn’t come around for a while, she thought things were better. For years, he’d had a woman friend over near Fort Wallace who kept him busy. If that wasn’t the case anymore, guess she would have to watch out for him from now on whenever she and Tommy came to town.

      “What can I do for you, Doc?” Henry asked from behind the counter.

      Doc? Sylvia turned back and stared as the tall man walked over to the counter. So, this was the doctor that Mayor Melbourne had talked into staying in Oak Grove. She’d heard tell of him a year or so ago but never had a reason to meet the man face-to-face.

      She took in the way he was dressed—his white shirt was a bit rumpled, but clean. He wore one of those shoestring neckties she’d heard tell of and it wasn’t even Sunday! His dark burgundy vest had fancy stitching along the edges, like something she’d seen when she lived back East. He had dark brown scruff along his jaw and chin and upper lip. Seemed he wasn’t sure whether he was growing a beard and a mustache or not. His wavy hair was so thick it sprung like a soft cushion from his head. That, she could tell because he didn’t wear a hat or overcoat.

      Didn’t he have the sense to know he’d catch his death of a cold in this wayward weather? Spring in Kansas was nothing to sneeze at, half the time cold, wet and windy and the other time sunny, hot and still windy. But today was a sunny one, so guess he had a right to enjoy the feel of it on his head after the fright of a winter they’d had.

      “I passed the supply wagon late yesterday on my way back from Putnam’s ranch. Thought I’d check to see if my order of medicine and books came in.”

      “I haven’t had a chance to look through the packages,” Henry said. “If you’ll wait, I’ll open them up.”

      Funny how accommodating Mr. Gallagher was with other people. Guess some folks just counted more than others. Tommy inched up beside her and slipped his hand into hers. A peace stole over her as she felt the warmth of his skin against hers. Maybe she didn’t count to these townsfolk, but she sure as shootin’ counted to Tommy. And for her, that meant everything.

      She walked up to the counter and set her basket down. “I have your eggs here. Let’s settle up. I gotta start back.” She caught a whiff of some fancy lotion or soap the doc had used on himself. Mmm, but he smelled good.

      “Soon as I take care of the doctor,” Mr. Gallagher said.

      She frowned. She’d been in town long enough and would have been long gone by now had it not been for Carl. “I got me a young ’un to watch out for. ’Sides that, Miss Petunia is in a family way and shouldn’t be left on her own too long.”

      The doctor cocked his head. “Miss Petunia? I haven’t come across her in my outlying visits.”

      He’d mistaken the name of her sheep for a woman! A chuckle nearly escaped before she clamped her lips tightly shut. She didn’t intend to correct him, seeing as how she probably wouldn’t run into him again.

      Slowly, he took in the length of her down to her worn boots, before coming back to her face. With his chin, he pointed at her wrist—the one that Carl had gripped so hard. Only now that Carl was gone did she feel the sting. She hunched her shoulders to coax the end of her sleeve down over the reddened and scratched skin.

      “Might want to put salve on that. I’ve got some back at my office.”

      She moved away from him, covering her wrist with her other hand. Whether he did or not, she wasn’t going anywhere with him—no matter that he’d saved her basket of eggs. “I can take care of it myself.”

      “I’m sure you can, Mrs....?” He let the word hang there. When she didn’t supply a name, he continued. “I’m Nelson Graham, the doctor here in town. The salve I have is made in Kansas City by a reputable apothecary.”

      Maybe he was only trying to be helpful. Carl had put her on edge—made her realize all over again how foolish she’d been in her youth to get involved with the Caulder family. She’d learned her lesson, but there was no turning back, no undoing what had come about. She’d keep to herself and take care of herself and that was the end of it. “I thank you for catchin’ these eggs before that scallywag dropped them all on the floor. I needed them to finish this here piece.”

      His brow furrowed. “Transaction?”

      She frowned right back. Didn’t he know English? “That’s what I said.”

      She waited while Mr. Gallagher transferred the eggs into a pail, all the while knowing the doctor watched her. It made her uncomfortable...more than it would had he been someone else from town. She knew where she stood with them. This Doc Graham looked down at her like she was a puzzle and he wanted to figure her out. Well, she liked her privacy and he’d just have to be satisfied with some disappointment.

      “I find it odd that I’ve been in town for some time and never knew there was a midwife nearby.”

      She stiffened. He just couldn’t keep his nose out of her business! “If you call helping my sheep in her time of confinement midwifing, then I guess that’s what I am.” She didn’t wait to see what his reaction would be but pointed out a twenty-five-pound sack of flour and another of oats that she needed. “That too, Mr. Gallagher.”

      Henry hoisted a sack under each arm and carried them out to the wagon, and she followed with the second case of jars.

      Her conscience pricked her. Maybe she had been a bit testy with the doc. After all, he had been a big help with Carl.

      “Go on and get in the wagon,” she told Tommy. She waited while Tommy clambered up onto the wagon seat. She always had the impulse to help him, after all, he was only seven years old, but she resisted the urge. Her son liked to climb. Seeing that he was settled, she turned back toward the doctor.

      He stood in the doorway, looking comfortable and relaxed and infuriatingly confident, with a half smile on his face. She’d like to ask him what was so amusing but didn’t figure she’d care for his answer. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Doc Graham.”

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