Read Online Silver Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #1) by Amelia Rose - Free Book Online
Authors: Amelia Rose
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a home without money. If I didn't want to go away again, using my skills was a good start.
If it didn't get me thrown in the jail next to Jason Seth.
Hutch went up to the mine once the Sheriff had gone. It was barely seven, already hot, and people in the West kept early hours. I cleaned the breakfast dishes, finishing them as the doctor came along. I heard him calling from the porch, leaving his buckboard as before, letting himself in to check on Matthew. Their voices became background and I didn't pay attention to them. As I finished in the kitchen, the doctor let himself through the door from the sitting room.
"Morning, Missus," he said, and I didn't correct him. Everyone was convinced Hutch and I were magically already married.
"Doctor Horton. May I offer you coffee?"
"Shouldn't think so," he said, but sat down at the table nonetheless. He looked ill at ease, but determined to have his say. Might as well let him, and figure out what I had to contend with. I took a chair across from him, drying my hands on a flour sack that doubled in Hutch's kitchen as a dish towel. I wondered what his wife's dish towels had looked like and what had happened to them then wondered, not for the first time, what his wife looked like and what had happened to her.
"Young Mr. Longren's leg looks good, Miss Lucas. You did a good job, and I'm sorry if I came off hard yesterday."
I nodded. "You had no way of knowing what I could do." Then, taking a chance, I added, "Neither did I."
He laughed at that. "Not a lot of shootings in Boston? Too civilized?"
I raised my brows. "Plenty of civilized shootings in Boston. They just don't need a midwife to interfere." And when he'd smiled at that, I went on. "How about in Gold Hill? Or Virginia City? Any room for midwifery?"
He seemed to ponder the question longer than necessary, staring past me into the kitchen as if judging its potential as a surgery. At last, he looked me square in the eye and said, "Yes, miss, we could use a midwife here. There's a doc or two over in Virginia City, and we cross paths back and forth between here and there and Dayton and Lousetown but there's not always someone available when there's a child being born because the men have no more sense than to get into a fight or fall down a mine shaft."
I didn't say anything. He was tacitly allowing me my trade, admitting I'd done a good job with my first gunshot wound, but what he was saying wasn't what he'd been preparing to say. My father sometimes did the same thing, talking around a subject to sore to press. I waited.
"I suppose you know what happened to the former Mrs. Longren?" he asked at length.
So close to my thoughts, I was surprised. "I don't, in fact," I said. Under the table, out of sight, my hands wrung together.
"She was expecting," he said. "Their first, and probably a son, given the way she was carrying."
I blinked and swallowed hard. "What happened?"
His attention had wandered. He looked directly at me again with my question and said simply, "Baby came early. Midwife came late." He thought for a minute, then knocked one knuckle against the table. "Might be something you'd best keep in mind. I'll see myself out. Good day."
I murmured something, my eyes glazed with thoughts and tears I wouldn't shed. No one had ever told me just what had happened to Ellie Longren. Had I hurt him? By talking about what I did? By not knowing? Should I have known? He'd asked if my
If it didn't get me thrown in the jail next to Jason Seth.
Hutch went up to the mine once the Sheriff had gone. It was barely seven, already hot, and people in the West kept early hours. I cleaned the breakfast dishes, finishing them as the doctor came along. I heard him calling from the porch, leaving his buckboard as before, letting himself in to check on Matthew. Their voices became background and I didn't pay attention to them. As I finished in the kitchen, the doctor let himself through the door from the sitting room.
"Morning, Missus," he said, and I didn't correct him. Everyone was convinced Hutch and I were magically already married.
"Doctor Horton. May I offer you coffee?"
"Shouldn't think so," he said, but sat down at the table nonetheless. He looked ill at ease, but determined to have his say. Might as well let him, and figure out what I had to contend with. I took a chair across from him, drying my hands on a flour sack that doubled in Hutch's kitchen as a dish towel. I wondered what his wife's dish towels had looked like and what had happened to them then wondered, not for the first time, what his wife looked like and what had happened to her.
"Young Mr. Longren's leg looks good, Miss Lucas. You did a good job, and I'm sorry if I came off hard yesterday."
I nodded. "You had no way of knowing what I could do." Then, taking a chance, I added, "Neither did I."
He laughed at that. "Not a lot of shootings in Boston? Too civilized?"
I raised my brows. "Plenty of civilized shootings in Boston. They just don't need a midwife to interfere." And when he'd smiled at that, I went on. "How about in Gold Hill? Or Virginia City? Any room for midwifery?"
He seemed to ponder the question longer than necessary, staring past me into the kitchen as if judging its potential as a surgery. At last, he looked me square in the eye and said, "Yes, miss, we could use a midwife here. There's a doc or two over in Virginia City, and we cross paths back and forth between here and there and Dayton and Lousetown but there's not always someone available when there's a child being born because the men have no more sense than to get into a fight or fall down a mine shaft."
I didn't say anything. He was tacitly allowing me my trade, admitting I'd done a good job with my first gunshot wound, but what he was saying wasn't what he'd been preparing to say. My father sometimes did the same thing, talking around a subject to sore to press. I waited.
"I suppose you know what happened to the former Mrs. Longren?" he asked at length.
So close to my thoughts, I was surprised. "I don't, in fact," I said. Under the table, out of sight, my hands wrung together.
"She was expecting," he said. "Their first, and probably a son, given the way she was carrying."
I blinked and swallowed hard. "What happened?"
His attention had wandered. He looked directly at me again with my question and said simply, "Baby came early. Midwife came late." He thought for a minute, then knocked one knuckle against the table. "Might be something you'd best keep in mind. I'll see myself out. Good day."
I murmured something, my eyes glazed with thoughts and tears I wouldn't shed. No one had ever told me just what had happened to Ellie Longren. Had I hurt him? By talking about what I did? By not knowing? Should I have known? He'd asked if my
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