The Montana Doctor's Bride (New Brides of Montana) (4 page)

As
Carter walked the length of Bridge Street, he found one empty building that from the outside appeared suitable for a home-office.  He decided Silas Farmer would be a good source of information, so he went back to the store.  “Silas, I appreciate the heads up you gave me about Hawkins, and I see what you mean.  Do you know who owns the empty building on further down Bridge Street?”

“I don’t.  It was going to be a feed store, but it never opened.  I don’t know what happened, probably a case of gold fever.  Why don’t you ask Harry at the Last Chance?  He probably knows; he may even own it himself.”

“I’ll do that,” he said. 

He visited the Last Chance Saloon, where he asked for Harry, and was directed to a table in the corner.  “I’m Doctor Carter Palmer,” he said, introducing himself to the owner of the Last Chance Saloon.  I’m told you might have some information about the building on Bridge Street that was going to be a feed store.”

“Harry Simpson, Doctor.  Actually, I won it in a poker game from the original owner.  What is your interest in the building?”

“I’m looking for a place to set up my office, and would also have sufficient room for me to have living quarters,” Carter said.

“I don’t know as that would be good for living quarters, but I have a house down the way on Rodney Street that would be perfect for you.  Let me get the key and you can take a look.”  He went to the back of the saloon, came back and handed the key to Carter.  “Go take a look, and tell me what you think.  It’s just sitting there, and I will make you an attractive price.”

“Thank you, Mr. Simpson.  I’ll return the key to you this afternoon.”  He left the saloon, walked down to the livery stable and rented a carriage from Mose Atkins, the owner.  With the directions provided, he found the Rodney Street house easily.  From the outside, it appeared to be much nicer than what the banker had offered. 

Through the front door, he found a living room, a kitchen, dining room and two bedrooms.  They were furnished with basic but serviceable furniture.  “Nice,” he thought.  The dining room could serve as a treatment room, while one of the bedrooms could house a patient that required close attention overnight. 

In the back, he found a small barn where he could keep a horse and carriage.  The Bridge Street building had no such accommodations, but the livery stable could be used if he chose that building.  “
I believe I prefer this one.  It’s in much better condition.  Now if I can negotiate a good price, I’ll be set,”
He thought to himself.

The Last Chance Saloon…

“Mr. Simpson, I like what I saw.  Now for the hard part.  What kind of arrangements can we make?” Carter asked of Harry Simpson.

Simpson named a price.  “If you want to rent, it will be six months up front.  If you would like to buy the house, any time within the first six months, I will apply what you’ve paid to the price.  After the six months, I’d have to re-evaluate the value.  Doctor Palmer, I’m a believer in the growth of Helena.  I think any property is going to increase in value as the town grows.  I think having a doctor here will be valuable.  I’ll make you an attractive price.”

“I’ll accept your offer of six months,” Carter said.  At this time, my plans are unsettled.  If I stay, I will exercise the option to purchase.  I’ll have the six months’ rent this afternoon.  It has been a pleasure doing business with you sir.”

“And with you.  Let’s celebrate with a drink, on the house.”

At the bank…

At the teller’s cage, Carter withdrew funds to cover the rent on the house.  As he started to leave, he was accosted by Cal Hawkins. 

“Have you changed your mind regarding taking the property we discussed, Doctor?” Hawkins asked.

“Yes I have.  I’m no longer interested in the building.  I’ve come across another property I like better and have made arrangements to rent it.”

Disappointment flashed across the banker’s face reflecting the loss of an opportunity to make a clear profit on a non-income producing property.  He recovered quickly.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t close on the house.  It is in a prime location.  I think you’re missing a good opportunity.”

“I may well be.  It is in a good location but the other is more suitable to my purposes.  I do thank you for your help.”  He shook hands and left the bank to complete his transaction with Harry Simpson.

He paid the rent to Simpson, and told him he would like to move in as soon as possible.

“Anytime you’re ready, Doctor.  You have the key and it’s your place.” 

My Dear Elizabeth,

I hope this finds you well and happy.  Having concluded my first three days in Montana, I am at peace with myself.  I have taken a six month contract on a house near the center of Helena.  It has a nice sized living room, a kitchen and two bedrooms.  It will make a nice office as well as home.  The furniture is sturdy and the dining room table will serve as my operating table.  I will take my meals in the kitchen.  It also has a small barn suitable for keeping a horse and buggy.  I will be moving in tomorrow.

I have made some nice contacts, having met the proprietor of the general store, and the local saloon keeper from whom I rented the house.  I also met the banker, but he doesn’t seem to be the type of fellow with whom I will be friends.  I do believe he tried to take advantage of this poor medico from the east.  I had been forewarned, however.

I continue to marvel at the sheer beauty of the area.  I wish you could see this wonderful country.  I think I will take a carriage from the livery stable and take a tour of the countryside.  I look forward to seeing the places where gold is being extracted.

As he finished the letter, he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, a sound he had hoped never to hear again.  He looked out the window and saw two men leaving the Last Chance Saloon in a run.  They mounted horses that had been tied to the hitching post in front and rode off into the dark, hightailing it out of town. 

Shortly thereafter, there was a knock at his door.  He stood by the door, and called out, “Yes?  Who is it?”

I heard gunshots a few minutes ago from down the street, and someone’s at the door.  I fear my services are needed.

Until the next time, I remain,

Your friend,

Carter 

“Doctor, there’s been a shooting at the Last Chance.  Mister Simpson would appreciate it if you came, an excited voice said from the hallway.

“I’ll be there shortly,” he answered.  As he turned to get his shoes and his bag, he heard footsteps retreating down the hallway.

After dressing hurriedly, he went to the saloon.  Harry Simpson came to him. 
“There’s been a shooting, and one of the miners is hurt bad.  I had the boys take him to my office.  I would consider it a favor if you would take a look at him.”

“Yes, of course.  Can you get hot water?  Show me where he is.”

Simpson called out to someone to put water on the stove, then he led the way down the hall to his office,  A scruffy, bearded man, appearing to be about thirty, and wearing the ragged remnants of a Confederate uniform was on the floor.  The blouse of the uniform was soaked in blood.  “Can you clear the desk and put him there?  I will need some more light.”  Men scrambled to get what he needed.

He ripped the old uniform easily.  The entry wound was obvious and was oozing blood.  “Help me roll him over, please.”  Two men jumped to obey.  There was no exit wound.  “The bullet is still in there and it needs to come out.  Mr. Simpson, can I operate here, or can we move him elsewhere?”

“Would a billiards table be better?” asked the saloon keeper.

“Yes, it would be just about the right height,” Carter said.  “Mr. Simpson, you should put something on the table to protect the felt from the blood.”

“Doc, call me Harry, please.  Boys, have one of the girls get a couple of curtains to put on the table and let’s get him on it,” Simpson directed.

One of the fancy girls brought hot water in, and Carter dropped his instruments into the steaming water.  He soaked some towels in the water, then wrung them out and cleaned the area around the wound in the moaning miner’s chest.  “I need more light here, and please, move back and give me room.”

He addressed one of the girls.  “What’s your name, Miss?”

“I’m Charlotte,” she stammered.

“Can you help me here,” he asked.

“I’ll try,” she said.

“Just don’t faint on me.  I don’t need two patients at once.”  The tension in the room eased.

“I won’t,” Charlotte said. 

He poured alcohol over his hands and rubbed them together.  “Charlotte, you do the same, please.”  She complied. 

“No smoking anywhere near here.  This is ether and will catch fire quickly.”  He took one of the small towels and poured ether onto it.  He then held it over the miner’s face, until the pained face relaxed.  Using a pair of long forceps, he extracted a probe from the hot water, and began probing the wound until he made contact with the bullet.  Once he located the bullet, he handed the probe to Charlotte and said, put this back into the water.  He opened the wound a bit with a scalpel, and using long, thin forceps; he extracted the bullet, and handed it to Charlotte.   He dressed the wound, turned and announced…

“The bullet missed the heart by inches, and didn’t hit any major blood vessels.  I believe he will survive.  He is a lucky man.”  The miner slept on; unaware of how close he had been to death.  On hearing the news, a cheer arose from the watching crowd.

“You appear to have had a lot of experience, Doctor,” Harry Simpson said.  “Were you in the Confederate Army?”

“No, I was in the Union Army,” Carter said.

“That was a Johnny Reb you just saved,” Simpson said.

“It was an injured man, Harry.  The war is over, thank God.”

Harry Simpson shook Carter’s hand.  “Drinks are on the house,” he called out.  To Carter, he said, “I’m glad you’re here.  You will be needed.  When word gets out, and I will put it out, you’ll get plenty of work.”

“Thank you,” Carter said.  “Now I need to get cleaned up.”

He washed the blood from his hands, and returned to the hotel.  The letter was on the table by the bed.  He decided to add to it.

“It was as I feared.  There was some sort of confrontation at the saloon and a miner was shot.  He was lucky, since the bullet missed everything vital.  After putting him under using ether, I managed to extract the bullet.  How I wished you had been there to help.  I pressed one of the fancy girls from the saloon into service.  She did admirably well, given the circumstances.  The miner will live and all is quiet at present.

Carter
 

Carter
checked his mail daily at the general store.  He was pleased to find a letter from Elizabeth waiting for him.  He had not been at all sure she would answer.

Dear Carter,

I am in receipt of your letter describing your trip.  It sounds fascinating, traveling across that much of our country.  I am env
ious of your adventure.

I am happy you arrived safely and found comfortable accommodations.  We see many returning soldiers here also and probably much the same as those you encounter.

There is no need to thank me for assisting you in your practice.  I enjoyed it and it felt good being able to help those in pain and need.  I still cannot get the poor woman that passed away, out of my mind.  Just the day before, she was alive and expecting her child and then… nothing.  I think of her often, and of the family she left behind.

Please continue to write.  I miss having you around and I miss the experiences you provided. It is lonely now that you’re gone.

I remain,

Your obedient servant,

Elizabeth

“She put a lot of emotion into this,” he thought.  “It must have been difficult to write.  I know I must have hurt her.”  He put the letter into the drawer of the desk he had purchased for his office.

True to his word, Harry Simpson had spread the word about having an experienced doctor in Helena.  Others in the saloon the night of the shooting must have done the
same; he began to see patients as soon as he moved into his new home and office. 

He laid in a supply of wood, in order to have ready access to hot water when needed.  He had also acquired a tub in order to bathe regularly.  His cooking skills did not approach the quality of his skills as a surgeon, so he took many of his meals in the café at the hotel.  He had become good friends with Silas Farmer and Harry Simpson.  He maintained an arms distance with the banker, Cal Hawkins.

The steady trickle of patients was predominantly male, and in truth, he had not seen many females since his arrival.  The wife of the preacher at the local Christian Church was about the only one he had met other than Charlotte, who had helped with the treatment of the wounded miner..  Many of the miners lived in tents or huts, hastily built and none of them had wives. 

The miner who
had been shot paid him in gold dust, a new experience for him.  Since many of the patients were miners hurt in accidents, many of his fees were in the form of dust, so it became necessary for him to visit the assayer to learn about this medium of exchange. 

The ranchers he treated raised all they needed, including vegetables and had no need of money, so they paid him in goods, some of which he was able to trade with Silas Farmer for things he needed.  His only cash outlay was for the medical supplies he ordered from Kansas City.

In his third month, he decided to purchase the building he was occupying and talked with Harry Simpson about the terms.  Harry was so anxious for him to be permanently settled, he offered an irresistible deal.  He would deed the building over to him in exchange for him providing medical treatment as needed for the fancy girls working for him.  “Harry, I can’t do that.  It’s taking advantage of you.  I’m happy to treat the girls, but you would basically be giving me the building and I won’t accept your charity.”

“Nonsense.  The health of the girls is essential to my business, and is worth a lot.  Besides, I have a selfish motive.  Having you happy and willing to stay here is attracting more people to Helena, and that is good for my saloon business, as well as my other irons.”

In the end, they agreed on $300 with his prepaid rent being included in the price for the building and medical care for the girls.  Carter was now the owner of his home, and office, His house back in Rockville was rented to a young couple and the bank account back there grew.  With his practice growing, it was rare for him to need to transfer funds to his Helena account.

In spite of his growing number of patients, and his two new friends, Carter was a lonely man and began attending the Christian Church on Sundays.  The preacher, Jackson Owens and his wife, Letty were about the same age as Carter, welcomed him as part of their constantly changing congregation.  Miners came and went, as their dreams of riches faded, and were replaced by new men with the same dreams. 

On a given Sunday, there were never more than two or three women in the church, and they were usually from one of the ranches past the edges of town. 

The first Sunday he attended church, Carter was anonymous.   He was stunned, when on the second Sunday the preacher said, “Helena is blessed, God has sent us a talented surgeon named Doctor Carter Palmer.  We are pleased to have him with us today.  Doctor Palmer, would you please stand so these good people can see you and get to know you?”  His face flushed with embarrassment, Carter stood.

After the services, several members of the congregation welcomed him personally, asked where his office was, and two even asked him to look at the injuries they had.  He made his way to the entrance where Preacher Owens and Letty, were bidding the last of their congregants goodbye.

“You surprised me, Preacher.  It’s only my second visit and I wasn’t aware you knew me,” he said.

“We heard about the shooting in the saloon, a terrible thing it was, too.  We also heard you had saved the man’s life.  Before you got here, he would have died.  We believe God showed you the way to Helena and wanted our folks to get to know you, so they can benefit from your God given skills.  I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

“No, I wasn’t embarrassed, only surprised.”

“Doctor Palmer, we want you to feel at home in Helena.  Would you join us for dinner?” Letty  Owens asked.  “We would like to know you better.”

“How kind of you.  I would be delighted to join you, and please, call me Carter.”

“I’m Letty and my husband is Jackson or Jack.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said.

The public recognition made even more people aware of him and increased his patient count; it did not assuage the loneliness in his personal life.

* * *

“Elizabeth, you’re with child,” Doctor Gilbride said.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.  I made a mistake and now I’m going to have a baby,” she said.

“Are you going to tell the father?” he asked.

“No, he doesn’t live here anymore.  I think it best he not know about it.”

“I’ve known you for a long time.  You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.  Would you like for me to write him and tell him?”

“No.  Please don’t do that.”  I don’t want to trouble him.  I’ll be all right,” she said.

“He would want to know, Elizabeth,” the doctor said.

“No!” she said emphatically.  “Let it go, Doctor.”

Seven months later, Elizabeth delivered a healthy eight pound 7 ounce boy.  She named him Carter Patrick Cartwright.  She did not mention it in any of her letters.  She ignored the looks she received from her friends and neighbors.  Her baby was none of their business and she intended to keep it that way.