The Prairie Doctor’s Bride. Kathryn Albright

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The Prairie Doctor’s Bride - Kathryn  Albright

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hotel lobby chimed three times, reminding him that the train carrying the brides would be arriving at any moment. After a busy morning in the office, he’d finally made up his mind to be there...until Wiley’s splinter happened. “Ready to tackle this again?”

      The boy wiped his nose again and stepped closer, holding out his hand. It shook slightly.

      “I’m almost there.” Nelson pressed against the far edge of the splinter with his thumb, picked up his tweezers and eased the splinter out. He held it up. “That’s a big one. You were brave. Not every six-year-old could handle such a big operation.”

      Wiley let out a huge sigh of relief.

      Nelson dabbed at the drop of blood with his handkerchief and then slathered a small bit of unguent on the nearly invisible exit hole.

      The train whistle blew once more and with it came the last chug and wheeze as the wheels slowed to a stop. Shouts sounded from the street as men headed toward the station.

      “Thank you, Dr. Graham,” Sadie Austin said as she descended the steps from the second floor. “I just had to get the last of the rooms ready for the women and Wiley wouldn’t stand still for me to help him.”

      “Not a problem, Mrs. Austin. Glad to help out.”

      “Ma! Can me and Wiley go meet the train?”

      Mrs. Austin hesitated a moment and then nodded. “We’ll go together. I can’t have you two anywhere near the tracks or the train’s wheels. Your father would have a fit. Now, you take hold of your brother’s hand, Kade.”

      “Aw!” Wiley whined.

      “I mean it!” she said.

      Nelson settled his Stetson on his head. For a woman who had never had children of her own, Mrs. Austin was doing a fine job of mothering the two boys. “Going there myself, ma’am. I’ll walk with you.”

      She grabbed her shawl from the table in the entryway as they headed out the front door of the hotel. “I’m glad to see you still here in Oak Grove.”

      “Still here,” he said. People here had worried he would pull stakes and head back East when things didn’t work out with the first set of brides that rolled into town nearly a year ago. What they didn’t know was that the words he’d had with his father before leaving home for good had left a gaping chasm in their relationship—one not easily bridged. The only way he would consider going back to Boston would be if he received a heartfelt “I’m sorry” from his father. Unless their visit had something to do with that argument, he didn’t expect an apology to happen anytime soon.

      “I like the town and the people. And with the new brides there will be more people to doctor in a few years.”

      With Kade and Wiley jumping and yelling between him and Mrs. Austin, Nelson strode down the main street of town to the train station. A number of cowboys had come from outlying ranches for the excitement and they spilled out of the Whistle Stop Saloon ahead of him, lining up, shoulder to shoulder and bowleg to bowleg. As the women descended from the train, their long dresses pressed against their legs from the strong wind. Nelson tugged his hat farther down on his head, so as not to lose it to the blustery spring day.

      “Gentlemen! Back up! Give the women some breathing room,” the mayor said in his booming voice from where he stood on the train steps. He had already been inside the train to welcome them in his official capacity. “The train must keep to its schedule, so you men help unload the trunks and get their belongings up to the hotel. The ladies will appreciate that more than having you jabber at them as their things ride on to Denver. We’ll have a welcome party tomorrow, once they’ve had a chance to rest and freshen up.”

      Nelson pulled Kade and Wiley back to keep them out from underfoot as a few men surged forward and responded to the mayor’s instructions. Then the line of remaining cowboys parted and the mayor strode through the opening with the women—five of them—following.

      Nelson quickly removed his hat, as did every other man there at the station, and watched the parade of women walk past, their long dresses swishing in time with the twitch of their bustles and the bob of their heads. It was quite a sight for Oak Grove.

      Leading the group was a dark-haired, rather stern-faced woman in a black skirt with thin white stripes and a black shirtwaist. She took long, no-nonsense strides that could match any man’s. When she came near, he realized with something of shock that she was as tall as he was, which meant she had to be nearly six feet without the heels on those shoes of hers.

      The next two women walked arm in arm and were close enough in appearance that he wondered if they were sisters with their nondescript brown hair confined in buns, brown felt hats with flowers and dark brown wool coats that covered them from head to toe. One looked about the town and men with open curiosity in her intelligent expression as she walked, while the other had a severe case of nerves and kept covering her lower face and giggling into her gloved hands.

      The next two women walked single file, surrounded by the last of the cowboys from the saloon, who hid them so much that he couldn’t get much of a look at them. One looked to be quite attractive with pretty chestnut-colored hair, dark eyes and a wine-red hat that matched her cloak. The other appeared to be a blonde with wide cornflower blue eyes. She was a bit older by the small lines near her eyes. She might do—someone with experience in life could be an asset.

      Mrs. Austin, with her young charges in hand, took off with the entourage toward the hotel. It would fall to her to help the young ladies get settled into their rooms. Left to himself, Nelson considered the notes he’d made earlier that day and withdrew the paper from his vest pocket. It was a “wish list” of sorts. Likely, no woman would meet all his expectations, but perhaps it would help him stay on course as he considered each of them.

      Amiable.

      Biddable.

      Able to take constructive criticism.

      Skilled in domestic chores: cooking, laundry, cleaning, sewing and gardening.

      Willing to work by his side as his nurse.

      Quiet. He didn’t want a woman who disrupted his research or his daily habits.

      Willing to put another’s needs ahead of her own.

      He’d added the last as a cautionary point, remembering his fiancée. He’d thought they were compatible in all things, but then suddenly she had broken off the engagement, unable to accept the numerous times he’d been called away to help someone who was ailing.

      He wouldn’t let that happen again. What he needed was a practical woman as his wife. She didn’t need to be a raging beauty, but like any man, he wouldn’t mind if she was pleasant to look upon.

      He tucked the paper back into his pocket and headed to his office. Now all he had to do was interview the ladies, one at a time, and see which one came closest to fulfilling his wish list.

      Who knew? With his parents arriving in two weeks, perhaps they would find themselves attending his wedding.

      He stopped before his two-story home that doubled as his office and surveyed it critically. Prior to residing in Oak Grove, he’d worked as the physician for the railroad company. The job entailed constant travel—something he’d had enough of after two years. This was his first office, the first place he’d ever been able to “hang

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