A Scarred Man for the Runaway Midwife (Preview)

Chapter One

Eleanor leaned her head against the window, trying not to let her green eyes close. Her red hair acted as a cushion against the window as the train rattled along. It was broad daylight outside, and she was trying to regulate her sleep so that she wasn’t completely turned around when she arrived. It was very difficult, seeing as she barely slept at night, but she still wanted to try.

She didn’t know how many days had passed since she had boarded the train. She was pretty sure it was two, but it could be anywhere from one to three weeks for all she knew. Everything was starting to blur together. Kansas to Montana was a long way, and it was not a journey that she had ever taken before.

She remembered when the letter came at the crack of dawn one day. She hadn’t been expecting anything, let alone a messenger who practically broke her door down to hand it to her.

The letter had clearly been handled closely for its entire journey. The script was elegant, but the envelope had been worn.

August 28th, 1876

Dear Miss Ashford,

We humbly request your presence at Grey Ranch, Montana for an upcoming, predicted to be difficult birth. The mother is giving birth for the first time, with health complications, and we have been advised that the baby is in breech. Our local midwife has fallen ill and your name came highly recommended. The advice we were given was to seek the most trusted, skilled midwife we could get. Your fee will be paid four times over, and all your travel expenses will be covered as well. We require your presence as soon as possible, as the birth is expected within the month. Should this arrangement be to your liking, please send your response as fast as possible, and inquire at the local rail station for a ticket to be billed directly to the Grey Ranch account. You will be provided with everything you need to make the journey here as quickly and comfortably as possible.

We thank you in advance for your services,
C.G.

She had read it several times, trying to figure it out. Four times her normal fee? Montana? Highly recommended?

It seemed to be too good to be true, and yet, something about the letter tugged at her heart strings. The script was elegant, but there were smudges, as if it was written quickly. She suspected that the despair encountered in the words was genuine.

She had never been to Montana, and she had never been recommended before. She had worked as a midwife for years in Kansas, and while she was respected, she didn’t think that her name was spoken across state lines.

She didn’t have any upcoming births, and she did need the money. Ever since her parents had passed on five years ago from typhoid, she had struggled every day to keep the bills paid. She didn’t want to charge her clients more than they could afford, and so it was a delicate balancing act of making sure she was fed and clothed while making sure her clients could afford the babies they were having after they were born.

Eleanor remembered the walk to the train station, almost in a daze, to inquire about the ticket, and being shocked when one was handed to her, allowing her to leave in just a day’s time. She wasn’t asked for any money, and the ticket was even in first class. She had walked home in the same daze, packed her bags, and left at the crack of dawn.

She had worried until the train pulled away that someone would come along and tell her that her ticket was invalid and ask her to leave.

First class was luxurious, with her own compartment and meals included. At first, she couldn’t believe her luck, but after a few hours, her legs started to cramp, and she longed for fresh air. She knew it would be much more cramped in the coach, so she was grateful, but she still felt like clawing at the windows every time the train slowed down.

“Tea, miss?” the porter asked as he knocked on her compartment door.

“Yes, please,” she said, grateful for some extra assistance in staying awake. “Two sugars, please.”

“Of course,” he said. “Not too long now.”

“To Montana?” she asked. “Oh, delightful. How much longer, do you think?”

“Maybe 6 more hours, if the tracks are clear,” he said. She furrowed her brow.

“Tracks are clear?” she asked.

“From cattle,” he said. “It happens a lot when we go through the ranches. Somebody’s cattle herd is always escaping, and they think that grazing on the grass is the perfect place.”

“Oh,” she replied. “That sounds….”

“It is,” he said, with a grin. “But it’s amusing to be stopped right beside a Bessy who likes to lick the windows for a little while. A change of pace.”

“I see,” she said as she took the tea from him. “Well, hopefully it doesn’t delay things too much.”

“Are you traveling for something big?” he asked.

“Yes, for work,” she replied, and the porter looked surprised. Eleanor was used to this reaction. She had the porter the day before assume that she was a mail order bride, and the conductor assumed she was traveling to meet her family. The idea of a woman alone, traveling for work was not something that crossed their minds. “I’m a midwife, and I have a client on one of the ranches.”

“Well, good for you,” he said, clearly still shocked. “What an adventure.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Emily replied as she sipped the tea. “Thank you very much.”

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he said and then continued down the rest of the aisle.

Emily finished tea quickly, drinking it like it was a lifeline. She felt slightly more awake now, knowing that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. She hadn’t really known how long the trip was, so even knowing it was just six more hours was helpful.

She had packed everything she had in terms of outfits. She only had three dresses, and the rest of her luggage was taken up with her medical supplies. She wasn’t sure what her accommodations would be, but she was hoping that she at least had a place to wash things and hang them to dry in private.

It wasn’t too long before she saw what the porter meant. They left the major towns and started to cross through ranch after ranch. There were endless fields with horses, cattle, and chicken coops. She could see ranch hands near the tracks cutting crops, and barns and houses in the distance. Some ranches were clearly more wealthy than others. There were houses that were sprawling — brand new and with roofs that almost shone, and then there were small shacks that were half falling down.

She wondered what Grey Ranch would look like. Based on the fee, she assumed it would be one of the sprawling ones.

Despite the fact that she was enjoying the scenery, she was incredibly glad when the train finally slowed to a stop, and the porter came along to collect her. She enjoyed new experiences, but in her present state of mind, even boarding a train next year would be too soon for her.

She was escorted to the front of the carriage, and she could see her large bag being unloaded.

She stepped down with the porter’s help and thanked him before looking around.

The station was larger than she expected, and there were quite a few people getting off.

She realized at that moment that she had no idea where to go. She had only been told to come to the station. Was she supposed to inquire at the ticket office, or just exit the station and catch a carriage toGrey Ranch? How far was it?

She was going over the possibilities in her mind and starting to panic when a man approached her.

“Miss Eleanor Ashford?” he asked.

She almost sighed in relief.

“Yes,” she said. “Are you…Mr. Grey?”

“Oh, no, no no,” the man blushed scarlet. “No, I am Mr. Marty. I am a ranch hand at Grey Ranch, sent to collect you.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Very nice to meet you and very kind of you to do so.”

“May I take your bag?” he asked.

If she had really looked, she would have been able to tell that he wasn’t Mr. Grey. His clothes were shabby, and he had a five o’clock shadow and dirt under his nails. This wasn’t the appearance of a man who could pay four times her normal fee and put her in a first class carriage.

“Yes, of course,” she said gratefully. “Is it very far?”

“Not too far,” he answered. “Certainly closer than where you have come from.”

She laughed at that.

“Excellent,” she replied. “Which way?”

He steered her toward the outside of the station, and she saw a large carriage parked at the front. It was elegant — as elegant as the handwriting on the letter. From the way Mr. Marty loaded the luggage, she got the feeling that he didn’t get to handle the carriage very often.

“How was your journey?” he asked as he helped her aboard. She felt odd sitting in the back, when normally she was the hired help, sitting in the front.

“It was wonderful,” she said. She didn’t want to be one to complain, especially since she had just arrived, and they had been so generous with her ticket. “I am eager to learn more about the family.”

“Ah, well…” he said. “I’m sure you will get to know them soon enough.”

He pulled the reins, and the horse started down the road.

“Is there anything you can tell me in advance?” she asked. “I would just like to know as much information as possible.”

“About the lady of the house?” he asked. “Or the master?”

“Oh…well both I suppose,” she replied. “I suppose the lady of the house is the most important, but of course I would like to know about the master as well.”

“The lady of the house is nervous about the upcoming birth,” he said. “As we all have been, since the local midwife was unable to assist us.”

“What happened to her?” she asked. “In the letter, it said that she fell ill?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “Just that she is ill and can no longer attend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear,” Eleanor said. “Midwives are used to working in all sorts of conditions, so it must be quite serious if she isn’t able to fulfill her contracts.”

“We are very grateful that you have come,” he said. “They are only recently married, so it’s quite a lot of change at once in the house.”

“Oh, I see,” Eleanor said as they rolled along. She was torn between looking around the city and asking as many questions as she could. “How recently?”

“Less than a year,” he said, and she nodded.

“I see,” she said. “And the master must be quite nervous as well.”

“He…” Marty paused. “Likes everything just so, and lets everyone know if things aren’t to his liking.”

“Oh,” Eleanor could read between the lines enough to know that meant that the master had a temper. It didn’t worry her too much, because she was used to the men pacing and panicking, especially as things got tense. She was also used to setting up her area and not allowing any man in until she was finished. “Well…I suppose I will meet them both soon enough.”

“You will meet the mistress,” he said. “The master is away on business and won’t be back for a day or two.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied. “Well, perhaps it’s best that way, to get settled with the mistress first. Has she been feeling well, otherwise?”

“Ups and downs,” he answered. “I wouldn’t want to speak for her, though.”

“No, of course,” she said. “Thank you for telling me so much already.”

They rolled out of town and toward the ranch. Eleanor noticed that the weather seemed colder the farther they went. When a large ranch house came into view however, she gasped.

It was huge with dark siding and windows that seemed sparse. The porch was also a dark color, and the grass leading up to it seemed to be turning yellow.

“Crops haven’t been the best this year,” Marty said as they pulled up to the front of the house. “Luckily, the animals have managed just fine.”

“I see,” she said. She didn’t exactly know what that meant. She had grown up in the city, playing with her best friend, Catherine, and not having a care in the world. There was always food on the table; there was always a warm fire and with her father as a doctor. She never worried about money.

Everything was different now, of course. Catherine’s family had moved away. Her own parents were gone, and with no siblings or kin to rely on, she’d often wondered where her next meal would come from.

She shook her head to clear it as Marty led her into the house. She hadn’t thought of Catherine for years. It appeared the farther away from home she was, the more nostalgic she became.

“The master is away on business?” she asked as they climbed up the porch. “For the ranch?”

“He also has railway and mining interests,” Marty said. “Many irons in the fire, so to speak. It is very…stressful.”

She noted the way he was dancing around his words. The master was not a kind man. She had already figured that out. Her mother used to say that money would not bring happiness, and while she didn’t believe her in many cases, this one made sense. There was clearly a lot of money in this house, but the happiness was as dark as the roof.

“Oh, thank goodness you are here!” A maid ran down the stairs in a fury. “Miss Eleanor Ashford? The midwife?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Eleanor said. She recognized the panicked look on the stranger’s face right away. “Has something happened?”

“The mistress is in labor,” said the maid. “It started unexpectedly not an hour ago, and it’s too early.”

“Oh goodness,” Eleanor hadn’t expected to be thrown into work right away, but this was the nature of her business. She couldn’t time when babies were going to come any more than she could time a rainstorm. “Take me to her.”

Eleanor was led up the grand steps at once, her coat still on.

The inside of the ranch house was just as grand as the outside and just as dark. Everything was dark mahogany, and it seemed that light struggled to enter. There were even candles lit in the hallway, despite it being broad daylight.

When the maid opened the door, Eleanor didn’t know what she expected. She hadn’t really thought about what the mother would look like or how far along she would be. In this situation, anything was possible.

But despite the wide possibilities, there was one option she never considered.

Sitting in clear pain on the bed, in a white night gown, with her hair around her and her eyes wild, was Catherine Marsh.

The two women met eyes across the room, and it was as if time stopped.

Eleanor didn’t know how to process what she was seeing.

It couldn’t be. Catherine was the daughter of a Kansas farmer who moved far away for a small plot with her family. She was young, younger than Eleanor, and she had been healthy and strong.

The young woman in front of her was frail, even in pregnancy, and sweating with fever.

Her shoulders were bony, and her pain seemed constant, rather than coming in waves.

Eleanor didn’t know what to say or do first. Her medical brain and her heart slammed into each other as she opened her mouth.

“Catherine?” she managed at last. “Catherine, is it you?

“Eleanor?” Catherine gasped through her pain. “Eleanor Ashford? Eleanor, my dear friend.”

Eleanor went to her at once, taking her hand.

“Oh my goodness, I have so many questions,” Eleanor said. “Oh my goodness…”

“Eleanor, you must have been sent to me by God,” Catherine said through clenched teeth. “How wonderful that we are together again.”

“How wonderful,” she said. “I have missed you so much. But we should focus on your baby. Is this your first?”

She knew from the letter that it was, but she wanted to hear it from Catherine’s mouth. An accurate medical history was important, but she was testing the lucidity of the mother.

“Yes,” Catherine said. “My baby boy, my little baby boy…”

“We’ll see soon enough,” Eleanor replied, trying to do a rapid assessment. This wasn’t normal at all. She was too thin and she had deep circles under her eyes. Mothers at this stage were normally glowing and strong.

Eleanor didn’t want to say out loud how much danger she thought her friend was in, so she simply gripped her hand.

“Will it be long?” Catherine panted. “Will it be long before I meet him?”

“Not long,” Eleanor assured her. “Not long at all.”

“Is there anything I can bring you, miss?” The maid appeared at the door. “What do you need?”

“Hot water, towels and a cold compress.” When the maid hurried out, Eleanor exhaled. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“I’ll bring those at once,” the maid scurried off, and Eleanor took a deep breath, squeezing her friend’s hand.

“I can’t believe you are here,” Catherine said. “I thought that I would never see you again.”

“Wasn’t it you who wrote to me?” Eleanor asked, confused. “Aren’t you Catherine Grey, now? The letter was signed C.G.”

Catherine didn’t answer as another wave of pain took her. Eleanor decided that such details were unimportant, and she focused on the labor.

She had worked on a few difficult births before, but this one, she just knew, was going to be the most difficult one yet. She prayed all her father’s training and knowledge flooded back to he, as the sun started setting. She was going to need every ounce of knowledge she had.

Chapter Two

Marcus hated going into town. It wasn’t just that he would have to see people, who no doubt would see him, but they would also talk to him.

If there was a way to get every supply he needed for Thornwood Ranch delivered and never re-enter society again, Marcus would surely do it. His mother would disapprove, of course, because it seemed she found the light of her life in socializing, but he would die happy if he never had to socialize again.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t found a way to get everything delivered to the Ranch yet, and so going into town was his fate at least twice a month.

His horse’s hooves were rhythmic on the dirt road as he rode, trying to keep his hat low to hide his scars.

Marcus could forget about his fire-scarred face when he was working on the ranch. It was just him and his mother. She had never flinched, even when she saw him in the hospital. And when there weren’t any mirrors or other expressions around, he almost felt normal.

But then something would remind him that he was a monster as quickly as a fly buzzing in his ear. He would run a hand over his face to wipe away the sweat and feel the uneven skin, or he would reach into the lake for a cool drink and catch sight of his reflection.

As far as he was concerned, staying far away from society would benefit them as much as him. Monsters didn’t walk into the general store and get supplies for the week.

But apparently, they did.

The town didn’t seem too busy today, at least. He tied up his horse at the first post outside the general store, and then walked in quickly. In his ideal world, he would be able to get what he needed and get back out before his horse even noticed that he was gone. He hadn’t seen any other horses tied up, so he was counting on the general store being empty.

The general store was mostly empty, save for two souls. Mrs. Potter, who owned the store, was behind the counter, and a middle-aged man was in front of it.

Marcus almost cursed when he saw who it was.

“Marcus Thornwood, fancy meeting you here,” the older man said.

“Captain,” Marcus said curtly.

It was odd, seeing Captain James Reid in civilian clothes, just going about normal life. Marcus remembered him in the field in the heat of battle, barking orders, dragging bodies and yelling. He sometimes heard his voice in nightmares, screaming to push forward. The Union Army had done great things, but they also had done terrible things.

It wasn’t that Captain Reid had done anything terrible to Marcus. By all accounts, he was a good and strong leader: kind and considerate when he could afford to be.

But like his scars, Marcus preferred to forget everything about his time in the Union.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Mrs. Potter said affectionately. “I thought it was time you turned up to get supplies.”

“I have a list,” said Marcus. He wished he could simply send it, but that wasn’t a service Mrs. Potter offered, no matter how much Marcus offered to pay her.

Not that he had a lot of money to spare. He wasn’t even sure he would fully be able to pay for the supplies he needed. She did offer credit, but he never wanted to run that up too high, for fear of not being able to pay it off.

“Well, it seems like you waited quite a while,” Mrs. Potter said as she scanned the list. “I’ll see what I have in stock.”

“Appreciate it,” Marcus said and shoved his hands in his pockets while he waited.

It appeared Captain Reid, or James as he insisted Marcus call him in civilian life, was also waiting, and he took that as an opportunity to chat.

“How are you, Marcus?” James asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“Busy on the ranch,” Marcus said. He didn’t mean to be rude, necessarily, but he also didn’t really want to chat. James didn’t seem deterred by the curt answer.

“Is that so?” he asked. “That’s good. It’s good to keep busy.”

“Yes,” Marcus said. He knew the polite thing to do at this point would be to ask how James was and what he was up to these days.

“I heard, um…” James lowered his voice. “I heard that there were some problems on the ranch. Apologies if it’s just a rumor, but I only bring it up because I want to help.”

Marcus grunted in reply.

“Thank you,” he said. “But everything is under control.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” James said. “Your father would be proud of you for keeping it running.”

Marcus doubted that, but he said nothing. His eyes followed Mrs. Potter around the store as she gathered his list. From what he could tell, she was taking her time, and he wished she would go just a tad quicker.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Mrs. Potter said. “I’m getting yours as well. Two birds with one stone.”

“No problem, Mrs. Potter,” James said. “I’ve got all the time in the world today.”

“I’ve got some other things on today,” Marcus said. “If that’s all right.”

“Quick as I can,” Mrs. Potter said, but it did not seem at all like it was. “You fellows came at a good time. Most things are in stock, and you’ll take me out of stock again. Lucky me.”

“Lucky us,” James said with a grin, and attempted conversation again with Marcus. “How is your mother?”

“She’s fine,” Marcus replied. James gave him a good-natured smile, apparently not at all deterred by this curt attitude.

“Good,” he said. “I saw her at church the other day, decorating for the wedding, and she seemed fine. It was lovely of her to lend a hand, weddings always bring joy to the community.”

“Sure,” Marcus said. He wasn’t even sure whose wedding it was; he hadn’t gone.

“Oh, it was a lovely wedding too,” Mrs. Potter said. “And did you hear that we are going to have a baby in town soon? Mrs. Grey seems to have gone into labor. Seems like Mr. Grey will miss it if he doesn’t come back from business soon.”

“Grey isn’t back yet?” James asked. “He’s been gone quite a while.”

“I know,” Mrs. Potter said, turning to them. She lowered her voice like the wrong person would overhear, even though they were the only people in the shop. “Doesn’t seem like the best time to leave your wife who is close to her time.”

“Well, business is business,” James said. “Although, I agree. And he did leave abruptly as well. I saw him tearing out of town like he was being chased.”

Marcus added nothing to this conversation. Not only was he not particularly interested in the baby of a woman he didn’t know, he also did not particularly like Mr. Grey.

“I bet it’s a boy,” Mrs. Potter said. “A personality like that for a father? It has to be.”

“I do have other things on today, I’m sorry to say,” Marcus finally said. “Shall I come back, Mrs. Potter?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m almost done.”

Marcus wanted to mention to her that it was almost dark, and while it wasn’t the farthest ride in the world, it was too far to do in the dark. It only took one misstep for the horse to go tumbling, and he could not afford to replace his horse on top of everything else.

It was partly his fault for leaving this so late. He wanted to make sure all the chores were taken care of on the ranch so his mother didn’t have to worry about everything, and he thought he would have enough time to get here and get back. But then, he hadn’t counted on Mrs. Potter wanting to chat up a storm and share all the gossip while slowly picking two orders.

Finally, she seemed to have everything assembled. When she told him his total, he nearly choked, but managed to keep a straight face as he paid. He tried to make it seem casual, but he was certain that James knew he was emptying his purse completely. There was no hope of even a small meal before he went back, and besides, it was too dark anyways.

“And for you, Captain Reid,” Mrs. Potter said, sliding him his supplies across the counter. The total was much less, but Captain Reid barely looked at the coins he dropped on the counter.

“You can keep the change,” he said. “A tip for good service.”

“Thank you kindly, ever the gentleman,” Mrs. Potter said. “Have a safe trip back.”

“Yes,” James said, and turned to Marcus. “Are you going to make it all the way back to the ranch? It’s already late.”

“I’ll be fine,” Marcus said, even though they both knew it was a lie.

“Well, I hope that I see you at church on Sunday,” James said. “I know that it is quite the ride for you and your mother, but it’s worth it.”

“Hmm,” Marcus said noncommittally. James clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Marcus flinched. It wasn’t so much that it hurt as he wasn’t used to being touched.

“Just remember, son,” James said quietly. “Hiding isn’t living. And you are still living.”

Marcus said nothing to that either, even though he wanted to. A million thoughts ran through his head — all of them nasty or biting. This wasn’t living. He didn’t deserve to be living. There were others who were gone who should have taken his place. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t lucky, and he certainly wouldn’t have chosen this for himself.

Instead, he just nodded.

James said his goodbyes to Mrs. Potter and left the store. Marcus nodded to Mrs. Potter then pretended to linger in the doorway and look at some products on the shelf before heading outside to ensure James was on his way.

When he had first met Captain Reid in the field, this was not at all how he thought he’d be interacting with him. But then, Marcus didn’t assume life would end up like this either.

He took his time packing his saddlebags to make sure nothing was going to get broken on the ride. He had brought extra cloth, and he wrapped them well before untying the horse and hoisting himself up.

The light was starting to die, and he knew he wouldn’t make it back. He knew people in town; he knew he could ask for hospitality, but he didn’t want to. Camping alone in the woods, with just the horse for company, suited his mood just fine.

The townsfolk were starting to disperse now. The shops were closing, and people were walking home for supper. Marcus dug his heels into his horse so that he could make haste before anyone else spotted him.

There was a spot in the woods just outside of town that he knew had a prebuilt fire pit, and flat ground for sleeping. He didn’t need any additional light to find it; he had camped there half a hundred times in his life.

It was the first place he and George had camped when they were allowed to come into town on their first big supply run. He had been so excited to be with his brother, to explore alone, and put things on his father’s account like they were grown men. That time seemed a million miles away now.

He thought a bit of Reid’s words as he settled.

No, hiding wasn’t living, but he didn’t feel like he was truly living either. Truly living would mean not being scared like some monster from a fairy tale.

This was where he belonged. This was where God had decided he would live the second the flames licked him.