Mail-Order Gamble: Inspirational Mail-Order Bride Romance (Eagle Creek Brides Book 9)

Prologue

July 13th, 1892, Johns Hopkins University, Maryland

Matthew Inglis sighed with relief as he set down his pen and raised his hand to alert the attention of the shaggy, white-haired man clad in an eggplant velvet suit that sat at the front of the hall. He watched as Professor Randall made his way along the lines of desks. He wasn’t the most graceful of men, and he barged into a number of them along his route, offering his apologies to the students he disturbed as they glared at him. It fascinated Matthew to see how quickly those looks of rage softened to amusement when they realized who had disturbed them. Everyone loved Professor Randall, for his extensive knowledge of medicine, his dry wit and his warm heart.

When he finally reached Matthew, Professor Randall took the exam paper from the desk and peered briefly at some of Matthew’s answers through the half-moon spectacles he always wore half way down his rather bulbous nose. He smiled, then winked and gave Matthew a reassuring nod before patting him affectionately on the back. Matthew felt the knot in his belly begin to unwind. If Professor Randall was happy, then he could allow himself to hope that he had done well.

Once dismissed with a wave of Professor Randall’s rather wrinkled hand, Matthew picked up his pens and pencils then stood up. Shaking his head in disbelief that he had finished medical school, Matthew quietly left the exam room, glancing a little nervously at his fellow students, each of them with their heads bent, still scribbling furiously. He did not know how they found so many words to write. The questions on his paper had certainly not required vast tracts of prose to answer them. However, after all these years spent together in class, Matthew was not surprised. He knew that many of them probably wrote as much as they did to hide the fact that they didn’t really know the answer. When he had first taken his place in the hallowed halls of Johns Hopkins, it had surprised him just how verbose and lazy so many of his peers were.

As he walked across campus, Matthew tried to ignore the slightly nagging feeling that perhaps he should have written more himself. He consoled himself that he had answered every question the very best way that he could, in a concise manner. There was no need for flowery language. Perhaps the other students should have chosen to study literature or philosophy if they had such a desire to pontificate on matters in the way that they did. It did not mean that his more cursory responses weren’t correct. No doubt, the professors would be glad to find a paper answered directly, rather than having to search through endless nonsense to see if the answer was even there at all.

Climbing the stairs to his room, he wondered how long it would be before everyone else was done. Once they were all back, he didn’t doubt that the hallways would be full of happy students, celebrating by drinking too much champagne. He packed his things quietly and went back downstairs. He took one last look around the place that had been his school and his home for the past four years. He had chosen it for its rigor and reputation, despite the longer duration of the course, and at times he had regretted it as he was not inclined to stay in one place for too long, but he was proud that he had quelled the impulse to keep moving long enough to graduate.

Now, he was free. He could go and practice medicine anywhere he wished. A number of hospitals had made him offers, based upon his grades and aptitude for the work, but Matthew had turned all of them down. He knew that he still had a lot to learn, and he wouldn’t learn it in just any hospital. He would have to seek it out. Professor Randall had suggested that he offer his services to the military, and Matthew had been inclined to agree with him that it was an opportunity well-suited to his temperament. And so, he must leave now, before all the celebrations, to take up his new post at Fort McKinney in Wyoming.

He wasn’t sure if he was excited or petrified at the thought of becoming a soldier. He couldn’t imagine having to fight anyone, but Colonel Schreiber, the rather upright gentleman who had recruited him, had assured him that the medical corps rarely had to use their basic training – they would be too busy patching up the casualties. That had been oddly reassuring, but the thought of what he might see in the fort’s hospital made his stomach churn, and the presence of a number of tribes of Plains Indians living nearby scared him half to death – but as soon as his nerves began to get the better of him, he thought about how much he would learn there and that helped him to steel his resolve.

The colonel had also assured him that it would be unlikely that he would ever spend more than six months in any one place, certainly no longer than a year – and that had been music to Matthew’s ears. It wasn’t that he particularly longed to see the world, one town was much like another when you really got down to it, more that he simply struggled to ever fit in anywhere. He struggled to trust people, and so rarely made friends. It was easier that way, if you were only going to be moving on again soon.

He gave his old dorm a mock salute, then turned his back and strode quickly off campus and out onto the street. A hansom cab was waiting for him, sent by Colonel Schreiber. He tucked his bags inside. “I need to make a final call before we go, we’ve got time,” he said to the driver, handing him the address. “The man looked at it and nodded. Matthew climbed inside, his stomach churning, far more so than it had before his examination.

Almost an hour later, the colonel was waiting for him on the platform, looking anxiously at his pocket watch and tutting loudly. A number of other young men stood around him, clearly other new recruits. Matthew stood to attention and saluted the colonel, who gave him a fatherly smile. “Shouldn’t really be doing that until you’re in uniform,” he said. “But I’ll permit it this once. Where’ve you been? I sent the hansom some time ago.”

“Certainly, Sir. My apologies, Sir. Just needed to settle a few accounts, Sir.”

“At ease, Inglis. Glad to hear you’re moving on with no debts hanging over your head. Well done. How went your final exams?”

“Well, I think,” Matthew said. “I should receive the results by month’s end.”

“That’s fast. My son’s final results weren’t posted at Harvard for almost two months after his last exam.”

“I think medical schools try to get word to us quickly, so we can start practicing as soon as possible.”

“There is that. Dreadful shortage of you fellows,” Colonel Schreiber said. “And few who want to sell their skills to the military. Even harder to find nurses.”

“It’s the pay, Sir,” Matthew said with a grin. “And the conditions. Most men want a quiet, well-paid life. And young ladies don’t want to spend all their time with unwashed, bloodied soldiers.”

“I can understand that, after all I’ve seen. But I’d not trade life in the military for a quiet existence anywhere.”

“I hope I shall find as much contentment in my choice as you have, Sir,” Matthew said respectfully. He doubted it and had very little intention of staying in the army longer than he had to. He’d undertake the six years he had signed up for, and no more.

The colonel counted them all onto the train, double checking his list again once they were all seated in the carriage. A few of the men had already introduced themselves and were larking about a little. A small group were playing cards in a quiet huddle. As he always did, Matthew kept to himself, pulling out a medical text to study. A few of the men approached him tentatively, but though he didn’t mean to, he knew he sounded taciturn as he rebuffed their attempts at conversation. He could not afford to become attached to any of these men. Their lives would be in his hands. Emotional connections might cloud his thinking, and he was determined to offer them the very best care he could. It might make for a lonely existence, but that was a burden he was prepared to carry.

May 19th, 1895, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

Rachel Falmer unfolded the crisp, white sheet and with a quick flick of her wrists it was draped, almost perfectly, over the bed. It felt a little peculiar to know that this would be the last bed she would make here at Fort Leavenworth. She would be leaving early tomorrow for her new posting, a promotion, as matron at the military hospital at Fort Meade, South Dakota. She was looking forward to the challenge it would offer, as well as being close to the infamous town of Deadwood. She’d read so much about it in the newspapers, how it was full of lawless men and dangerous women. She longed to see it for herself, to see something outside the quiet family life she’d been raised in.

“It’s a shame you won’t be here to meet the new doctor,” her fellow nurse, Josephine Grimes, said with a suggestive giggle as she took her corner and carefully folded it to matron’s exacting standards. “I’m told he’s ever so handsome.” Jo was pretty, with a fine figure and seemed to think little about anything other than finding herself a handsome husband. But she was a fine nurse, when she wanted to be, and while Matron Eggerton believed Jo to be incapable of almost everything, Rachel knew that Jo simply needed encouragement and to be trusted to get on with her work, rather than a firm hand to get the best out of her. Matron’s eagle eyed presence simply made Jo nervous, which made her even more forgetful.

“They tell us that about all the doctors before they arrive,” Rachel reminded her as she folded her corner in a crisp triangle and tucked it under the thin mattress. “When were any of them even good looking?”

“True, though Captain Regis is a very fine-looking gentleman, and I am certain that he was flirting with me when he brought Lieutenant Downham in yesterday,” Jo noted as they moved to tuck in the top end of the bed, too. Rachel threw a pillow towards her, shaking her head.

“Is that all you think about?”

“Well, I don’t intend to be here nursing my entire life,” Jo said wearily. “I’m exhausted. My feet hurt, my ankles are swelling and I’m not even pregnant. I need a husband, and fast, before I lose my winning smile and cheery disposition altogether.”

Rachel chuckled. “Get away with you. You’re a fine girl, with shapely enough ankles to please any man.”

“Don’t you want to be wed? To have a family?” Jo asked.

“I suppose it would be nice, someday,” Rachel admitted. “But I’ve not much thought on it, since Randall was killed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jo put her hands to her mouth and looked aghast. “I should have remembered. I can be so insensitive. Losing your fiancé that way, it must have been so hard.”

“I fell in love with a dashing lieutenant, there was always a risk I would lose him,” Rachel said sadly.

“You must miss him terribly.”

“I do. But I have my work, and it keeps my mind occupied.”

“Really? My mind wanders constantly. I never seem to be able to remember anything. I swear that Matron thinks me to be a complete imbecile.”

“No, just a little flighty,” Rachel teased. Jo stuck out her tongue and they both giggled.

“Aren’t you even a little bit interested in finding out more about Captain Inglis? Doctor Inglis?” Jo asked. “I can see you as a doctor’s wife, perhaps in some small town somewhere, taking care of everyone in town, side by side.”

“Then marrying an army medic might not be in my best interests,” Rachel pointed out. “They aren’t usually the types to want to settle down somewhere. They’re often as keen on adventure as the men they patch up, I’ve found. You need to remember that. If you keep setting your cap at men in uniform, that is the life you are choosing.”

“You’re right, of course. I just don’t have much time away from here to find a man who isn’t in a uniform,” Jo said good-naturedly. “I shall have to maintain hope for us both that we will soon find someone who will love us, and treasure us, and who hopefully has nothing to do with the military at all,” Jo said with a grin, but she frowned almost immediately afterwards. “I will miss you terribly. Do you truly want to go through with this transfer? Dakota is a long way from here.”

“I do. I’m excited. It will be a promotion for me, and I shall get to see a little more of the world. I’d take you with me, if I could.”

“I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave Kansas. And you want better nurses than the likes of me.”

“I can’t imagine ever wanting to stay,” Rachel said. “And you’re a better nurse than you give yourself credit for. If you could only get your head out of the clouds a little. The patients all love you, you’re kind and gentle with them. If you applied even half as much effort to remembering what their medications are as you do to cheering them up or seeing if they’ll make you a good husband, you’d be better than anyone, Jo.”

“Hopefully, I will be married, fat with child within twelve months,” Jo said brightly. “Perhaps, Dr. Inglis is looking to settle down in Kansas, and will fall in love with me at first sight.”

“Perhaps,” Rachel said. “But I think you’d do better to perhaps consider someone like Teddy.”

“Teddy Heaton? But he’s just a delivery man.”

Rachel shook her head. “He is no such thing. He owns the laundry company, you ninny.”

“Teddy Heaton owns the laundry? But it’s the largest in all of Kansas. Whyever would a man like that be driving the linens to a hospital?”

“Think about it, Jo. You’ll work it out if you do.” Rachel paused, amused by the look of confusion on her friend’s lovely face.

“Put me out of my misery, Rachel?”

“He drives the van here with the clean linens because he likes you, and wants to see you – and you don’t even glance his way.”

“Oh,” Jo said. “Oh, really? You’re sure?”

“I’m certain of it,” Rachel assured her.

“Oh, that is the most wonderful news indeed.” She placed the pillow on the bed and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Would you mind if I leave the ward for a moment?”

“If you hurry, he’ll still be unloading the truck,” Rachel said laughing as Jo ran along the narrow row of beds and burst through the doors at the end of the ward. If only all her own problems could be so easily solved.