Chapter 13
Easter Sunday,April 10th, 1898, Eagle Creek, Montana
“Any new letters?” Aidan asked as Matthew went to join him and Tom where they were sitting beside a tomb with a statue of an angel on it. Tom was spooning mouthful’s of Cook’s delicious stew into his mouth, giving off little moans of delight. Unable to speak for the food in his mouth, he nodded eagerly, clearly wanting to know more.
Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“I’m stuck in this chair, I have to live vicariously through you,” Aidan said. “Now, hand them over.”
Matthew did, but for some reason he kept Caitlin’s letter back. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he didn’t want her to be a part of this ridiculous bet. Her letter to him had been teasing, fun, and intelligent – unlike so many of the others – and while he was still certain that he had no need or desire to take a wife, he was not averse to making a genuine friend.
Aidan quickly read through them, then passed them back. “You’re going to do what you did yesterday, aren’t you?” he asked.
“What did he do yesterday?” Tom asked, wiping his mouth with a dark handkerchief then stuffing it back into his pocket.
“He met one of them.”
“Already? But you’ve barely had a chance to know their names,” Tom protested. “The terms of the bet were that you have to at least try to give this a chance.”
“I am giving it a chance. But I don’t have much time to spare. My work takes up all of my days and most of my nights. I need to know if I like someone quickly. I can’t be wasting time, writing to twenty young ladies, for weeks and months, then find out when I meet them in person that they are dull and vain. Isn’t it better to learn that now? If I like one, then I’ll keep writing to her.”
“The clue is in the name, you’re seeking out a mail order bride,” Tom said a little grumpily. “How are we to know what you do and say in these meetings? You could be acting like a complete bore to make them despise you for all we know.”
“I can assure you that I did not need to act like a bore yesterday,” Matthew said with a grin, recalling how little he’d been able to say during the entire luncheon. “And I will not be at any further meetings. I gave you my word that I would act in good faith, and I would not like to win a bet that way.”
“You have to give love a chance, Matthew,” Aidan said firmly. “For your own sake – not just for the bet.”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me. I’ve told you before, I am just not that kind of man. Tom chose not to listen – but I am trying to get to know these young ladies. I won’t automatically dismiss any of them, and if you are right and love comes my way, I am sure I will be glad to lose my money as I will gain something wonderful – or so you keep telling me. But it is going to take an incredible person to make me feel that I cannot live without them.”
Grudgingly, Tom and Aidan accepted that. Matthew stayed in the churchyard for another half an hour, before deciding that he had done quite enough socializing for the time being, and returned to the boarding house. His room up in the attic was quiet, but from time to time he could hear the sounds of children’s laughter from the gathering at the church. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letters he had shown his friends, and quickly wrote replies to them all, then sank down on his bed and pulled out Caitlin’s letter.
Dear Dr. Inglis,
Thank you for your lovely letter. I was glad to see you tell me a little about yourself. I must confess that you have left me wanting more, so I shall be peppering my reply to you with many questions. I do so hope that you will answer at least some of them!
In response to your questions about me, you wondered how I know so much about the medical field. I do in fact work within it, as a nurse. I enjoy my work very much, and if things had been different (perhaps if I had been born a man) then I might have considered pursuing a career as a physician, but I think that I am happy as I am. I am blessed to work in an environment where my skills, though different to those of the doctors, are valued just as highly – and that makes quite a difference, I can tell you.
I, too, worked in military hospitals for many years and they are the reason I have traveled around a lot, too, so I understand the pressures of the work, and the need to in many ways close yourself off from others. It is hard to work on those we consider to be our friends and colleagues, so growing too attached to those around us can be hard. When you need to have a clear head, it being cluttered with emotions can lead to dangerous consequences. And with moves between hospitals happening so often, it is hard to truly build friendships anyway.
But, I am also the second oldest of seven children, from a loving family, so emotions aren’t entirely absent from my life. I have fourteen nieces and nephews at last count, and I think that there are currently a further four on the way. My father lives with one of my sisters, in Topeka, where he gets to dote on his many grandchildren and enjoy not having to get up in the middle of the night when they cry.
He raised me and my siblings pretty much alone, as my mom was ill and passed away when I was young. But I don’t remember a time when we didn’t talk about her, or know who she was. He made sure we all knew how much she had loved us all, and how much he did, too. I was so lucky to have him. He was a good man, and I hope that one day I’ll find one just as decent.
Now, it is time for the trivial things, because they can tell you a lot about someone, don’t you think? And even if they don’t, they’re nice to know! I am average height, with strawberry blonde hair. I like two lumps of sugar in my coffee, but none at all in tea. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth (apart from in coffee to take away the bitterness, because I don’t really much like coffee, but don’t tell anyone, because a nurse who doesn’t like coffee cannot possibly survive!) but the local bakery makes this amazing cake with cherries and almonds, and I cannot get enough of it. I love to read, but rarely have the time, so I don’t keep up to date with new books. I rely on old favorites, like Huckleberry Finn, but I do read a lot of journals for work, too. My favorite color is rich, burgundy red. It does nothing for my coloring as I am so pale, but I don’t care. It just feels so rich and sumptuous. And my favorite tune is Greensleeves. I don’t really know why, it is just so pretty.
Now, my questions for you. Are you ready? What color is your hair? Are you tall or short? Do you have any family? Where did your desire to become a physician come from? What do you love to do more than anything in the world? What foods make you feel most happy? Do you have a favorite color? Or a book? A piece of music?
I’m being silly, but I find that I want to know as much as I can about you. I do hope you’ll tell me just a little bit.
Yours, most happily
Caitlin
It was a very happy letter, and he could almost sense the woman at the end of it, even though it was only the second time she had written to him. She seemed so lively and jovial – and curious. He had read this letter more than ten times since he’d received it earlier in the week, and every time it brought a smile to his face. Of course, he’d already written a reply and sent it off, and he’d tried to tell her as much about himself as he could, but it had been hard to do so, even in writing to a faceless stranger.
He wondered if he should have shared this letter with Aidan and Tom. It seemed only fair that he be honest and open with them, but he’d already been so much more personal with Caitlin than he had with anyone else, and he didn’t want them to know who he truly was, any more than he wanted a wife. It was such a blessing to have them in his life, he did not want to lose them, and he feared if they knew the truth they would shun him, as those he’d trusted and cared for before had done.
It made him realize that though he had agreed to stay, to help Andrew and Dr. Hartshorn find the right man to run their hospital, that he would need to move on soon – before he was forced to do so. He rolled over onto his belly and buried his face in the pillow. Why did it all have to be so difficult? Could he not have a home like other men? Did he not deserve some peace? How many lives did he have to save before it was enough?
He exhaled sharply and punched the pillow, before pushing himself upright. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stared at the letter beside him. Already, he was growing too attached to Caitlin. He didn’t mind that he might lose the bet, but he did care that he might hurt her. Perhaps he should write to her and call everything to a close. That would be the honorable thing to do. She deserved to find that upright, caring, good man like her father that she’d written about. He most certainly was not that man.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to know her better. He wanted to let her know him. Because he was not just that one act, that one terrible mistake all those years ago, even though so many people seemed determined to judge him on that alone. Was he brave enough to hope that if she got to know him without that, that she might judge him less harshly when he did tell her? Because he knew that he would have to one day. A true partnership, like the one Caitlin had described, could not exist with secrets lurking in the dark, waiting to ruin everything.
But could he bring himself to tell her now? Could he tell anyone? He had met such good people here in Eagle Creek, and he knew that many of them had come here to escape their own pasts. Would they accept him once they knew of his? He’d never really given anyone the chance to, so he had no idea whether anyone could. But he had been driven from all he had known, by the people who had been supposed to love him. If they had not been able to forgive him, to understand, how could he expect anyone else to?
Thrusting the letter into the drawer by the side of the bed, he got up, stretched and decided to go for a walk to get rid of some of the tension that had built up inside him as he’d let thoughts of back then back in. He let himself out of the back door, so nobody at the church, or on Main Street would see him and stop him, and walked briskly out of town through the back streets, to the path up the mountain.
Rather than taking the track that led up to Aidan’s place, Matthew took the path that led towards the falls. The sound of the water crashing on the rocks as he drew closer began to thankfully drown out the thoughts in his head, and the spray in the air dampened his hair and skin. It was icy cold, but he didn’t care. It made him feel alive. He climbed carefully along the rocky outcrops to the narrow ledge that led up behind the falls, and carefully edged his way across it, into the cave behind the wall of water.
Feeling reckless, he stripped off his clothes and moved to the very edge, where the water splashed down onto the rocks, and stood under it, letting it wash his body and soul clean. The water came down with such force, it pounded against his tight muscles, easing the tensions in them, and stung his scalp. His skin was pink and tingling when he stepped out of the flow of the water and dressed himself again.
He built a small fire, using twigs that must have been brought down the river by the rapids and deposited in the cave over the years. Those closest to the cave mouth were damp, but there were many in the back of the cave that were dry as a bone. They caught light quickly and Matthew warmed himself in front of the flames, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
As he sat there, the sound of the crashing water echoing around him, deafening him to anything else, Matthew knew that at some point, he had to change. Since being here in Eagle Creek, he had found connection and contentment that he had not known since he was a boy. He did not want to leave. He did not want to say goodbye to his friends, or to his colleagues who had become like family to him through the outbreak of influenza. He could not imagine his life without Rachel’s sunny smile and contagious optimism, or Maud’s practicality and motherly kindness, or without Andrew’s fatherly pride in him.
But if he wanted to stay, he needed to come to terms with what had happened and he had to be honest with them about it. So, how did you go about telling anyone that you have killed a man? That you were responsible for your own father’s death, and that you did not regret killing him one tiny bit? Because, Matthew had no idea how to even start.