The Negotiated Marriage

“Come, now, Miller. She hasn’t agreed to be your wife.” The more distinguished-looking gentleman with the black bag dried his palm down the front of his coat and held it for Duncan to shake. “Dr. Benjamin Northrop. This here is my brother Dr. Julius Northrop and of course this is my other brother, Miller, who has yet to gain the lady’s agreement.”

“That is a minor detail.” Miller stepped onto the stoop and, hovering over Duncan, glared down at him. “She will be my wife.”

Duncan did not appreciate the underlying threat, as it seemed more directed at Camy than himself even though she was on the other side of the door. Miller’s hawklike nose, and ashy pallor reminded Duncan of a devious captain he’d encountered during the War Between the States who’d seized homes when he felt it necessary and stole food from the mouths of babes to feed his hounds. That reminder alone did not bode well for Miller, not if Duncan had anything to do about it.

Miller made to move around him, but Duncan shifted, blocking his entrance, and glanced at Benjamin. “If, as you say, your brother is not Miss Sims’s fiancé, I must insist only one of you attend her. Preferably you, Dr. Northrop,” he said, nodding toward Benjamin. “As you seem to be a professional seeking to give medical help, not a jaded beau come to demean the lady.”

Miller puffed out his chest like a rooster on the strut. “Listen here,” he snapped as his brother Julius cocked back the hammer on his revolver.

Resting his hand on Julius’s, Benjamin lowered the weapon. “Julius, he has the right of it. Miller, you are in no condition to speak to Cameron. Allow me to assess her, and then if she wishes to see you, you may enter. Until then you two may wait out here.”

“What about him?” Miller’s lip curled in disgust.

Benjamin shook his head. “I suggest he wait out here with the two of you.”

The corner of Miller’s mouth twitched in an arrogant smirk. Duncan didn’t blink at the young man’s bluster. He’d dealt with shiftier men in his days, men who’d threatened life and limb if he didn’t bend to their will, men like his father.

“However,” Benjamin continued, “I do not wish to treat another gunshot wound. After you,” he said to Duncan, sweeping his hand in front of him.

Duncan opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit cabin. “It’s all right, ladies. It’s the Northrops.” It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but not long enough that he didn’t notice Camy now sat on the edge of the bed, her hands properly folded in her lap, her cheeks pale. Despite the relief in her eyes at his words, lines of agony creased her brow. It also didn’t go beyond his notice that the bed swayed as if she’d recently jumped on the mattress. Ellie’s skirts had a similar motion while she hunched near the fire. He had no doubt the ladies had eavesdropped on the conversation between him and the Northrops.

As Benjamin Northrop closed the door behind him, Ellie straightened, ran her hands down her skirts and nodded. “Dr. Northrop.”

“Ellie.”

“Where’s Mara?” Ellie asked, easing some of Camy’s agitation at not seeing her youngest sister.

“I insisted she stay with my sister, Bella, until I knew what sort of trouble you ladies have gotten yourself into.”

Ellie huffed. “You could have sent one of your brothers in to treat my sister if we’re such a bother.”

“Yet I am the one with experience with these sorts of injuries.” He shrugged out of his coat and laid it across the end of the bed. “What have you done to yourself, Camy?”

Even in her discomfort she teased, feigning innocence. “I haven’t done a thing. This t-time.”

“So I’ve heard.” Benjamin laughed as he pressed his fingers to her wrist. “Pulse is strong. That is good news.”

Duncan knew he should turn away as the doctor pulled Camy’s sleeve from her shoulder to inspect her wound, yet he could not tear his eyes from hers. He’d caused her this pain, and he intended to bear as much as he could with her. If only he could trade places with her.

“Mr. Murray.” Ellie’s voice pulled his attention from Camy’s crinkled eyelids. “Would you mind moving the table closer?”

Once he moved the table, Ellie placed a bowl of steaming water next to the doctor along with strips of clean linens and then scooted a chair beside Camy for Northrop to sit. It was as if the two had worked together before and the woman understood what he needed.

“Thank you, Ellie.” He dipped one of the clothes into the water and cleaned the wound. Bright red rivulets streamed from her wound, soaking into her shirt. Camy groaned.

Camy’s sister grumbled something unintelligible and then said, “I know you would save her the pain if you could...” Her words muffled beneath the hand covering her mouth. Dr. Northrop reached out toward her, but Ellie spun from him.

“I’ll be fine, Ellie.” Camy put on a brave face even as she grimaced.

Duncan sat next to her and took her cold hand in his. Although she wore dry clothes, she had yet to warm from her fall into the river. Dr. Northrop swabbed a clean cloth over the wound. Flinching, Camy gripped Duncan’s fingers.

Dr. Northrop looked up from his work and frowned. “I’m sorry, Camy. I’m afraid your discomfort has just begun. Would you rather sleep until we’re done?”

She shook her head, her damp hair dancing around her. Dr. Northrop pulled a silver implement from his bag. Duncan clenched his teeth and then positioned himself and turned her toward him so that they faced each other. He’d seen men die as they rushed into battle. And he’d seen men die in the surgeon’s tent, not from the procedure itself, but from the chloroform. He didn’t wish her to die, but he didn’t wish her to be awake either.

She pulled her hand from his and brushed the tips of her fingers over the bruising of his eye. “Benjamin, you should tend to Mr. Murray’s injury.”

“After we see the damage done to your shoulder,” Northrop responded.

Her attempts at distracting herself distracted him. The touch of her fingers against his skin near made him forget that she wasn’t his wife. Yet. Where had that come from? She would never be. He pulled her hand down and rested their clasped hands between them.

“Are you ready?” Northrop asked.

Drawing in a breath, she closed her eyes and nodded. Northrop cleansed the wound once again and then inserted the probe into the wound. Tensing every muscle, Camy cried out and then pressed her lips into a hard line. She fell forward, her head resting on his shoulder. For a moment, Duncan thought she’d passed out, but the grip on his fingers and the tears warming his shoulder through his rain-soaked shirt told him otherwise.

Benjamin sat back. The probe dropped into the bowl with a clink. “It doesn’t seem to have shattered the bone.”

Camy pulled away from his shoulder as air rushed from Duncan’s lungs in relief. He hadn’t realized how much he feared she might lose her arm until this very moment. His closest friend during the war had lost his leg when bone fragments caused the limb to become gangrenous.

“However, the ball is tucked in there tight. Camy, I know you don’t wish it, but I’m going to have to use the chloroform to dig it out.”

Pulling her lip between her teeth, she shook her head.

“I’ve seen grown men try, Camy. It’s too much to bear.” Ellie set another bowl of water on the table.

“Your sister’s right.” Dr. Northrop rested his elbows on his knees.

“I will not have my mind taken from me,” Camy argued, and then her voice quieted. “I know people have died. Ellie told me so.”

“That is true. I’ve seen it myself,” Duncan said, worried either way, knowing Northrop had no choice. “Do you trust Dr. Northrop?”

After a bit of hesitation, Camy nodded.

“He seems competent. It is right as rain to be brave, lass.” Duncan smoothed a wayward curl from her forehead. “I’ve been shot before.” He pushed his sleeve above his elbow and showed her the scar. “I have another here,” he said as he pointed to the middle of his chest. “And here on my leg. Chloroform was not always available on the battlefield. As much as I dislike telling you, the fact is, the pain is too much, even for a woman of courage such as yourself.”

Her brown eyes pooled with tears. He’d give every coin he had to trade places with her, to go back and choose not to be swayed by Hamish’s offer. “If it makes you more comfortable I will not leave your side and I’ll be here when you wake.”

She blinked. One lone tear crept from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She lowered her chin and drew in a slow breath. She glanced at him, the hint of a smile curving her mouth. “This is not your business.”

He patted her hand and smiled back. “As I said before, your business is my business until things between us are settled.”

* * *

“What things?” Miller ducked into the cabin, his bowler falling off as it skimmed against the frame. His straw-colored hair was plastered to his head, his hands were clenched at his sides and his face was ruddy. His bloodshot eyes, telling her he’d been drinking, narrowed when he caught sight of her hand held in Duncan’s. His glare deepened when he lifted his eyes to hers. “There is nothing that needs to be settled other than our marriage. The sooner the better, since it’s obvious you can’t care for yourself. What sort of fool gets herself shot?”

Camy stared at Miller in disbelief. He’d called her many things over the last months, had insinuated even worse, but he had never outright called her a fool to her face. Her face must have reflected the sting of his words.

As he unclenched his fist, Miller’s eyes softened. “I am sorry, Cameron. I don’t like you being hurt. If you would quit resisting the inevitable...why can’t you see that I am the only man willing to care for you?”

Willing. Camy had heard his argument before. There was never a confession of love, but what did she expect when her own father hadn’t loved her? Did Miller always have to make her feel helpless? Worse, did he have to speak her fears aloud? No man wanted her. Her father had proved that when he left her with Hamish. Even Miller’s pursuit had everything to do with Sims Creek.

Suddenly she felt tired and weak. She wanted to curl up in a corner and cry until all her troubles disappeared. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the warm palm anchored to her. Duncan gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before releasing his hold on her hand. The mattress shifted beneath his weight and released as he rose and crossed his arms over his chest. The loss of his calloused palm had her lying back against the pillow. She closed her eyes in hopes of keeping the tears from spilling. For good measure she covered her eyes with her uninjured arm.

“First,” Duncan said, “I will remind you that you are standing in Miss Cameron’s home and that you would do well to respect all of the ladies of this house, even if they have an inclination toward accidents. Second, I have known Miss Cameron only a short time and I have concluded she is capable of caring for herself. She does not need a husband. Certainly not one who abuses her with his sharp tongue.”

Despite the searing pain radiating throughout her upper body, and the ache in her heart, she felt giddy and had the urge to applaud Duncan’s performance. It was a performance, right? After all, he’d met her only a few hours ago, not enough time to judge her capabilities.

“You have no right to tell me what she needs and does not need,” Miller argued. “I have courted her for nigh unto two years.”

Camy snorted and felt Miller’s intense glare. His attempts at courting were akin to falling in a thornbush. His last attempt had landed him in the river near to drowning, and her under Mrs. Smith’s condemning eye for breaking the unspoken rule about a lady pushing a man into the river after he stole a kiss. A rule saying she was compromised and must marry. Camy had yet to discover if it was the river washing or the stolen kiss that deemed a lady soiled. But given that Mrs. Smith felt the need to act like a mother to the poor Sims sisters, the woman was adamant that Camy save her reputation and marry Miller. Much to Camy’s relief, Pastor Hammond came to her defense and spoke sound reasoning to Mrs. Smith, defusing the matter altogether.

Duncan stared Miller down. “At this moment, Mr. Northrop, I have every right.”

The cabin fell silent. The pop and crackle of wood as it burned in the fireplace and the drips of water seeping through the roof plopping into strategically placed pots were the only sounds. Slightly lifting her arm, she peered at the occupants in the cabin. All of them seemed to be holding their breath waiting for Duncan’s next words. Duncan leaned forward.

Lord, please don’t let him say anything about Hamish’s proposition. Please. I’m in no position to argue with Miller.

Although he was a head shorter than Miller, his fierce countenance caused Miller to shrink. “Miss Sims needs tending to without further delay.”

Miller grunted. His cheeks looked as if he’d been attacked by rouge. “You’ve no business here. In fact, as I see it you should be in jail. Has the sheriff been fetched?”

“Miller.” Ellie touched his arm. “Please, now is not the time.”

“Outside, Murray.” Miller circled his fists in front of him, ready to fight Duncan. Duncan looked as if he pitied the younger man.

Camy didn’t think Miller meant much harm. Only a year older than she, he was foolish and young, determined to get his way in all things. Mostly with her. And Sims Creek, the property adjoining his father’s. Miller’s father had coveted Sims Creek for years, even before the railroad’s interest, and it was obvious Miller carried on his father’s determination, but why, as it was decent farming land, nothing more? And Miller despised the idea of plowing fields and milking goats. Worse, he didn’t seem to like her much. He was always the first to tell her when her hair was unkempt. When the color of her dress was wrong. He even dared give her a tonic to do away with her freckles. Of course, she’d tried to scrub them away on occasion, but to no avail. She’d given up long ago on trying to obtain her sisters’ perfect complexions.

“Miller, I think you should return home if you won’t wait outside.” Benjamin, always the calm one of the brothers, tried to defuse the situation.

Miller crossed his arms. “Not until I hear what rights he has to tell me anything about my fiancée.”

Camy jerked her arm from her eyes. “I’ve never agreed to marry you, Miller Northrop.” Nor would she ever!

“It seems we all have things we wish to discuss,” Duncan added.

“Yes, we do,” Miller added.

“I am not discussing marriage.” Camy tried to sit, but Benjamin halted her progress by pressing a warm cloth to her shoulder. “To anyone.”

“She is right. Everyone outside, now.”

She could have kissed Benjamin Northrop’s cheek for intervening.

“I’m not leaving.” Ellie’s soft voice cut through the tension. Camy knew it cost her sister more than she’d ever say to be in the same room with the man who’d broken her heart, but she was beyond thankful for the sacrifice.

“I’m not leaving either.” Miller stomped his foot like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I am your apprentice and can help more than Ellie.”

“Ellie is a better doctor than most,” Camy argued, not wanting Miller and his unsteady hands to come anywhere near her.

“Any other patient and I would accept your assistance. However, brother, you’ve already done more harm than good by upsetting Camy. Her agitation has caused her wound to bleed more than it should. Besides, your hands are unsteady and your judgment is clouded by too much whiskey.”

Relieved at Benjamin’s soundness, Camy released the air she’d been holding.

“What about him?” Miller tossed.

“I’ll be staying.” Duncan’s words were like a boulder, unyielding. He glanced at her, his voice softened. “I gave my word.”

He had, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Duncan soothed her fears and gave her a sense of peace. “All right,” Camy said.

Miller huffed, swung the door wide and slammed it behind him.

“Shall we begin?” Benjamin asked.

Kneeling beside the bed, Duncan held her hand as Benjamin took a brown bottle from Ellie. The white cloth hovered outside her vision and then over her head before covering her nose and mouth. Her head dizzied, and her eyelids became heavy. The deafening silence broke with the opening of the cabin door and Hamish’s gruff voice.

“Ellie, lass, you best cook up a feast. The rev’nd will be here for dinner.”

Chapter Five

Steam rose from his cup of coffee. The sky had long ago darkened with nightfall. What had begun as a warm spring morning had turned into a blistery winter night. White snow now fell, covering layers of ice left by the freezing rain. Thinking back over the last several days, Duncan wondered what had propelled him to follow Hamish out here in the country miles from the city. Of course, he knew. It had been the promise of a home with lush, rolling hills. It had been the promise of good farmland surrounded by untamed ruggedness. The promise of a home similar to what he’d left far behind. It had not been the promise of a wife with more courage than most men. An idea he was beginning to warm to but could never have.

He leaned against the window frame, his eyes resting on the woman who made him see that not all ladies were like many of his acquaintance, calculating behind their simpering. Her hair, long since dried, lay in stark contrast to the pale linen of her pillow in a wild array of dark curls. Thick, dark lashes rested against pale cheeks dusted with freckles. He didn’t want a wife, did he? It didn’t matter. He couldn’t have a wife. Especially one who enticed him to take long walks with his head bent in rapt attention, to share more than a few meals, to steal a kiss. But if he could, he’d move Ben Nevis, Scotland’s highest peak, to court her.

Why would Hamish make her part of the agreement? If he wanted her to keep the land, then why not let her have it? Because she had yet to turn twenty-one? Were their fears about the railroad genuine? Had unsavory agents threatened the sisters in hopes of gaining this parcel of land? Agents paid from his bank account? Did Hamish’s generous offer have anything to do with the threats?

Duncan massaged his neck, wondering if his business associate, Calvin Weston, had anything to do with what was happening at Sims Creek. Calvin had, on the occasion, given red flags as to his character since the day he’d approached Duncan about helping finance a railroad to Santa Fe, New Mexico, but Duncan had brushed the flags aside as a doggedness to succeed. Now he wondered if his partner had had something to do with the attack on Hamish that nearly left him dead in a dark alleyway.

Fortunately Duncan had been unable to sleep that night and had been out for a stroll when he’d come across the miscreants beating the old man. It was the start of an odd, yet cherished friendship nearly a year ago. Duncan twisted his lips, digging through his memories of conversations he’d had with Hamish over warm cups of coffee. Not once had he mentioned his home in the country until a few weeks ago. And the old man had never said a word about relatives until they’d made camp on the banks of Sims Creek.

“Would you like more coffee?” Ellie pulled the black kettle from the fire.

“Thank you.” He took a couple of steps toward her and held out his cup, which she filled with the dark liquid. “I am sorry for all this.”

“It is not your fault,” Ellie said, setting the kettle onto a trivet in the middle of the table. “I was just thanking the Lord that it was purely an accident and not a more purposeful deed.”

The bandage on his forehead pulled as he raised his brow. More mystery? She had accused him of being a thug for the railroad, just as Camy had. Had other accidents occurred, accidents that were not purely accidents? What would they say if they knew he helped finance the road to be built through Rusa Valley, if they knew he was on the committee? “A more purposeful deed?”

She looked upon her sister with motherly affection. “It is not something I wish to discuss with or without my sisters, as it’s been a source of contention between us. However, today’s accident has made me realize that I can no longer put off making a decision.”

“What decision is that, Ellie?” Camy uttered in a hoarse whisper.

Duncan set his cup on the table and then moved to her beside. He rested the back of his hand upon her brow. “No fever. How are you feeling?”

Camy tried to sit but fell back against the pillow. “Like I’ve been dragged by the oxen through a pile of rubble.”

Ellie’s skirts rustled as she neared the bed. “You should have listened to me then and not shot off the revolver while holding on the lines leading the oxen.”

“Th-then I wouldn’t have anything to compare my wound to,” Camy gritted out with a slight smile.

Duncan chuckled, believing the banter between the sisters to be true.

“Here, this will ease your pain,” Ellie said, holding a spoonful of laudanum in front of Camy.

“If I take that, will you tell me what decision you’ve made?”

“First, we need to know why Hamish felt the need to find you a husband.” Ellie slipped the spoon between Camy’s lips as she opened her mouth to argue. “And then I would prefer to wait for Mara to return, as it concerns her, as well.”

Camy grimaced, swallowed the liquid and then tilted her head to look outside. The curtains had been drawn hours ago. “They haven’t returned her yet? How long did I sleep?”

“As you know, the Northrops had her stay at their place with their sister until they could assess the situation here. The weather worsened and it wasn’t safe to bring her back, but Dr. Northrop assured me they will as soon as they are able. Of course, your fiancé wasn’t agreeable.” Duncan winked to let her know he was teasing.

Camy’s eyes grew wide. Ellie laughed as she handed her the spectacles. “You shouldn’t tease her. Miller’s obsession isn’t exactly her fault, nor has it been pleasant for any of us.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Camy said. “And we should not discuss our personal matters with mere strangers.”

Duncan winced. True, they’d met hours before, but he felt as if he’d known her his whole life. Perhaps, given the distress in her eyes, it was his teasing her about Miller that caused her to be surly. However, curiosity about the personal matters between Miller Northrop and Camy stirred in his mind. Any man with a lick of sense would be obsessed with gaining her hand, which obviously proved Duncan didn’t have any sense. And he intended to keep it that way, at least until all was settled and he returned to the city far from the unsettling peace he experienced watching her rest.

He cleared his throat. “My apologies. You’ve slept the afternoon, and beyond dinner. As I said, Dr. Northrop will escort your sister home tomorrow when he comes to check on you.”

Camy rolled her eyes. “Ellie is a fine enough doctor to treat me.”

“We’ve discussed this. I know nothing about these sorts of wounds.” Ellie laid the spoon in a pan of steaming water. “Are you hungry? Benjamin said you could have some broth as long as your stomach can handle it with the medicine.”

“Where is Hamish?”

Duncan had hoped Camy held no memory of her uncle’s announcement before entering the cabin. He didn’t want her upset any more than what she was, and any mention of marriage would certainly do just that.

“I banished him to the barn.” Ellie dipped broth into a bowl. “Mr. Murray, would you mind helping Camy to sit?”

Careful not to jar the arm held against her in a sling, he pulled back the heavy quilt and scooped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, and settled her against the headboard. He stuffed pillows and a folded quilt behind her back for support.

“And Pastor Hammond?” Camy whispered near his ear as he settled the quilt around her.

So much for her not recalling Hamish’s words. “Fortunately—” he smiled at her “—for both of us, winter decided to reappear. It gives us the evening to rest and enjoy one last snow.”