She Said “Don’t Make Me Hope,” the Cowboy Said “I’ll Hold the Hope Until You’re Ready”

…

The bank robbers.

Wade asked the crowd, his voice stronger than Norah would have expected.

Got away, someone said.

Jed at the bank got shot too, Wade nodded grimly.

I’ll deal with that later.

He looked down at Norah.

Lead the way, doctor.

Norah felt the weight of the town’s eyes on her as she helped wade down the dusty street toward a modest clapboard building with a faded green door.

This wasn’t how she had planned to introduce herself to Silver Creek, but perhaps it was fitting.

Nothing in her life had gone according to plan since the day her father had died 3 years ago, leaving her with nothing but debts and determination.

Inside the building, Norah found a surprisingly welle equipped examination room, though a thick layer of dust covered everything.

“The town’s previous doctor had passed away 4 months ago,” the mayor explained as he helped Wade onto the examination table.

“Leave us, please,” Norah said, rolling up her sleeves.

“I need to work,” the mayor hesitated, then nodded, backing toward the door.

“Town council meeting tonight at 7:00.

Dr.

Mitchell, we’d like to formally welcome you.

Norah merely nodded, already focused on cleaning WDE’s wound.

When the door closed behind the mayor, she became acutely aware of being alone with this stranger, this surprisingly handsome stranger, whose eyes seemed to see right through her carefully constructed composure.

“You’re not what the town was expecting,” Wade said as she worked.

“And what were they expecting, Mr. Wade? Someone with a beard for starters.

A hint of amusement softened his pained expression.

Silver Creek’s never had a woman doctor before.

Well, they do now.

Norah worked methodically cleaning the wound.

Are you the sheriff? Is that why you were shooting at bank robbers? Wade let out a short laugh that turned into a wse.

No, madam.

I ranch outside of town.

Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or the right place.

Norah countered.

I understand you shot one of them before they got you.

News travels fast, Wade murmured.

Yes, I believe I winged one of them, not that it stopped them.

As Norah prepared to stitch the wound, she studied him more carefully.

His hands were calloused from hard work, but there was an unexpected gentleness in the way he held himself, even in pain.

Not the typical rough cowboy she’d been warned about back east.

This will hurt, she warned, threading her needle.

I reckon I’ve had worse.

His eyes never left her face as she began to stitch.

His jaw tightening but no sound escaping his lips.

What brings a woman doctor all the way from Boston? Is it to a place like Silver Creek? He asked after a moment, clearly trying to distract himself from the pain.

Norah’s hands remained steady, though her heart stuttered slightly at the question.

The advertisement said Silver Creek needed a doctor.

I need somewhere to practice.

That’s not an answer, Dr.

Mitchell.

She tied off a stitch with perhaps more force than necessary.

It’s the only answer you’re entitled to, Mr. Wade.

He fell silent, then watching her work with those unsettlingly perceptive eyes.

When she finally cut the last thread and began bandaging his shoulder, he spoke again, his voice lower.

Everyone in Silver Creek is running from something, Dr.

Mitchell.

You’ll fit right in.

Norah secured the bandage and stepped back.

There, you should rest, but I suspect you won’t.

Try to keep the wound clean and come back in 2 days so I can check it.

WDE eased himself off the table, reaching for his bloodstained shirt.

Norah handed him a clean one from a cabinet.

The previous doctor kept these for emergencies, she explained.

Their fingers brushed as he took the shirt, and Norah felt an unexpected jolt of awareness that she immediately suppressed.

She had not come west for entanglements of any kind, especially not with a man who already saw too much.

“What do I owe you?” Wade asked, carefully sliding the shirt over his injured shoulder.

“Nothing.

Consider it a welcome to Silver Creek service.

” Norah busied herself cleaning her instruments, keeping her back to him.

“That’s mighty generous, but I pay my debts, doctor.

” His voice was closer now, and Norah turned to find him standing just behind her, hat in hand.

Up close, she could see flexcks of gray in his blue eyes and fine lines at their corners that spoke of years squinting against the sun.

“Then pay it forward, Mr. Wade.

Help someone else when they need it.

” A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from merely handsome to something that made Norah’s breath catch embarrassingly in her throat.

“I believe I will,” he said softly.

“Starting with you.

Town council can be a pack of wolves when they want to be.

I’ll be there tonight.

Make sure they treat you fair.

Before Norah could protest, he settled his hat on his head and moved toward the door.

He paused with his hand on the knob, looking back at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

Silver Creek just got a whole lot more interesting.

Doctor Mitchell, I look forward to seeing what changes you bring.

With a slight tip of his hat, he was gone.

leaving Norah alone in her new office, her heart beating a rhythm that had nothing to do with the excitement of treating her first patient in Silver Creek.

That night, as Norah changed into her best remaining dress, a navy blue affair that had seen better days, but still maintained its dignity.

She rehearsed what she would say to the town council.

They had hired a doctor.

They were getting a doctor.

Her gender should be irrelevant.

Yet, as she stepped into the town hall, the sudden silence that fell over the room told her it would be anything but irrelevant.

A dozen men in varying states of formal dress stared at her as if she were an exotic animal that had wandered in from the wilderness.

Only two faces showed anything other than shock or disapproval.

Mayor Higgins, who looked nervous but determined, and Everett weighed, leaning against the back wall with his uninjured arm, that same unreadable expression on his face.

“Gentlemen,” Norah said into the silence, squaring her shoulders.

“I believe you were expecting me.

” The council meeting was every bit as difficult as Norah had anticipated.

Questions about her training, her experience, her ability to handle the rougher elements of frontier medicine came at her like bullets.

She fielded them all with the calm precision she had developed during her years at medical school, where she had been one of only three women in her class.

Doctor Mitchell already proved herself today.

WDE’s voice cut through the interrogation, silencing the room.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding attention without effort.

She saved my life and from what I hear, Jed Thompson’s, too.

What more do you need to know? With all due respect, Wade, said a thin man with spectacles whom Norah had learned was the town banker.

A woman doctor is unprecedented in these parts.

We need to be certain.

You were certain enough when you hired her without meeting her, Wade interrupted.

Or did you assume doctor? Mitchell was a man.

The uncomfortable shifting in seats told Norah all she needed to know.

They had indeed assumed she was a man when they had accepted her credentials by mail.

“Gentlemen,” Norah said, keeping her voice level.

“I understand your concerns.

” “I faced them before, and I’ll face them again.

But I am a fully qualified physician who has traveled nearly 2,000 m to serve this community.

Judge me by my work, not by my gender,” Mayor Higgins cleared his throat.

“Well said, Dr.

Mitchell, and Mr. Wade makes a fair point.

We did review your credentials and found them satisfactory.

He looked around the table.

Unless there are objections, I move that we formally welcome Dr.

Mitchell as Silver Creek’s new physician with the standard 6-month probationary period as outlined in our agreement.

The vote was not unanimous, but it was sufficient.

As the meeting adjourned, Norah felt a mixture of relief and exhaustion wash over her.

She had won this battle, but the war for acceptance was just beginning.

That went better than I expected, came Wade’s voice as she gathered her things.

Norah looked up to find him waiting by the door.

“Thanks to your intervention.

I just stated the obvious.

You did the hard part.

” He fell into step beside her as she left the town hall.

The night air was cool, stars blazing overhead in a way Norah had never seen in Boston.

Allow me to walk you home, doctor.

It’s your first night in town.

I’m perfectly capable of finding my way, Mr. Wade.

It’s a single street, no doubt.

But a gentleman doesn’t let a lady walk alone after dark, capable or not, Norah sighed, too tired to argue.

Very well.

They walked in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing on the wooden sidewalk.

The town was quiet now, most buildings dark except for the saloon from which piano music and rockus laughter spilled into the night.

Why did you help me in there? Norah finally asked.

“You don’t know me.

” Wade was quiet for so long that Norah thought he might not answer.

When he did, his voice was soft but certain.

My sister wanted to be a doctor.

Smartest person I ever knew.

But our p said doctoring wasn’t for women, so she married young instead.

Died in childbirth 3 years later.

He paused and Nora could feel the weight of old grief in the space between them.

The doctor was drunk.

Couldn’t save her or the baby.

I’ve often wondered if things might have been different if she’d had the chance you did.

Norah’s throat tightened.

I’m sorry about your sister.

It was a long time ago.

Wade stopped as they reached the small house attached to Norah’s office.

But when I saw you today doing what Hannah never got to do, it seemed like, I don’t know, like maybe something was finally going right in the world.

The raw honesty in his voice caught Norah offguard.

This man was nothing like what she had expected to find in this rough frontier town.

Before she could formulate a response, Wade tipped his hat.

Get some rest, Dr.

Mitchell.

If I know Silver Creek, your skills will be needed before you’ve had your morning coffee.

With that, he turned and walked away, his tall figure soon swallowed by the darkness.

Norah stood watching him go, an unexpected warmth blooming in her chest.

Despite her best efforts to suppress it, she had not come to Silver Creek looking for friendship, let alone anything more complicated.

She had come to escape her past and build a practice where her gender wouldn’t matter as much as it had in Boston.

Yet, as she unlocked the door to her new home, Norah couldn’t help but feel that Everett Wade might complicate her carefully laid plans in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the kind of pristine blue sky that seemed to stretch on forever.

Nora had spent half the night organizing her office and unpacking her medical supplies, finally falling into bed well past midnight.

She was just finishing her coffee when the first knock came at her door.

A young woman stood on the porch, a small boy of about four clinging to her skirts.

The woman’s face was pale with worry.

Dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hadn’t slept.

Dr.

Mitchell, I’m Emma Taylor.

This is my son, Samuel.

He’s had a cough that won’t quit, and now he’s burning up with fever.

Nora ushered them in, her fatigue forgotten.

How long has he been ill? The cough started maybe a week ago, but the fever only came on last night.

Emma lifted the boy onto the examination table.

Samuel’s face was flushed, his breathing slightly labored.

As Norah examined him, more patients arrived.

A ranch hand with a deep cut on his palm, an elderly woman with joint pain, a minor with a persistent headache.

By midday, Norah had seen more patients than she typically would have in Boston in 3 days.

She was just seeing off misses.

Abernathy, who suffered from what appeared to be nothing more serious than indigestion, when the door opened again.

Everett Wade stood there looking considerably better than he had the day before, though he still held his injured arm slightly stiffly.

“Mr. Wade, are you here for me to check your wound?” “Partly,” he admitted, “but also to see if you’ve eaten today.

Thought you might appreciate some lunch.

” He held up a basket that emitted enticing aromas.

Norah’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, reminding her that she had in fact forgotten to eat.

That’s very thoughtful of you.

WDE set the basket on her desk and began unpacking it.

Fresh bread, cheese, sliced ham, and two apples.

Martha at the hotel restaurant put this together when I mentioned you might be too busy to eat.

The whole town seems to know my business already, Norah observed, though there was no real annoyance in her voice as she eyed the food.

Small towns.

WDE shrugged his good shoulder.

No secrets here, he gestured to the food.

Please eat while I’m here.

I suspect you’re the type to forget again once I leave.

Norah couldn’t argue with that assessment.

She sat at her desk and broke off a piece of bread.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.

“Though I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Never suggested otherwise.

” Wade leaned against the wall, watching her with that same intensity she’d noticed yesterday.

But even doctors need looking after sometimes.

As they shared the impromptu meal, Wade told her about Silver Creek, which families had been there the longest, which ones had feuds, who could be trusted, and who couldn’t.

It was valuable information, the kind Norah would need to navigate the complex social waters of her new home.

“What about the bank robbers?” she asked.

“Has the sheriff caught them?” Wade’s expression darkened.

“No, Sheriff Jenkins isn’t known for his enthusiasm.

Word is the gang headed south, probably to lay low for a while before hitting another town.

You don’t sound convinced.

Jenkins is a poor excuse for a lawman.

Has been ever since his wife died 3 years back.

He drinks more than he patrols.

Wade absently rubbed his injured shoulder.

I’d bet my best horse those robbers are closer than he thinks.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics.

The upcoming harvest festival.

The new school teacher expected next month the quality of performances at the town’s small theater.

Norah found herself laughing at WDE’s dry observations about town personalities, surprised by how easily conversation flowed between them.

When it came time to check his wound, she was pleased to find it healing well with no signs of infection.

“You’re lucky,” she told him as she applied fresh bandages.

a few inches lower and that bullet might have done real damage.

“Wasn’t luck,” Wade said quietly.

“It was skill, yours.

” Their eyes met, and for a moment, Norah couldn’t look away from his steady gaze.

There was something about Everett Wade that made her feel both seen and safe.

A dangerous combination for a woman with secrets.

“Yes, well,” she said, breaking the moment.

“Keep it clean and come back in 2 days.

You should be able to use the arm more by then, though I’d avoid any heavy lifting for at least a week.

Wade nodded, slipping his shirt back on.

I should warn you, he said as he buttoned it.

You might have some trouble on the horizon.

Norah stiffened.

What kind of trouble, Doctor Harris in Cedar Ridge has been serving folks from outlying ranches around here since old Dr.

Simmons passed.

He won’t take kindly to losing that business.

I wasn’t aware I was encroaching on anyone’s territory, Norah said carefully.

Silver Creek needed a doctor.

You’re not encroaching.

Harris is a decent doctor, but a mean drunk, and Cedar Ridge is a halfday ride.

People here deserve better.

WDE picked up his hat.

Just wanted you to be prepared.

Harris has friends on your town council.

Thank you for the warning.

Norah walked him to the door and for lunch.

WDE paused in the doorway, looking down at her with an expression that made her heart beat a little faster.

Anytime, Dr.

Mitchell.

Anytime at all.

As the days stretched into weeks, Nora found herself settling into life in Silver Creek with surprising ease.

The initial resistance to a female doctor gradually gave way to grudging acceptance as she proved herself time and again setting broken bones, delivering babies, treating everything from snake bites to typhoid with steady competence.

True to WDE’s warning, doctor Harris from Cedar Ridge had indeed made his displeasure known, writing a scathing letter to the town council questioning her qualifications and suggesting that a woman’s sensibilities would hamper her effectiveness in frontier medicine.

But when Norah successfully removed a bullet from Sheriff Jenkins’s deputy after a confrontation with cattle rustlers, a surgery Harris had botched on another patient the year before even her staunchest critics began to soften.

Everett Wade became a regular presence in her life, stopping by her office every few days with some excuse or another, a minor injury that could have waited.

news about a patient from an outlying ranch, or simply to bring her lunch when he knew she’d be too busy to eat.

Norah told herself she didn’t look forward to these visits, that the warmth that spread through her when he walked through her door was merely appreciation for his friendship in a town where she was still something of an outsider.

But on a crisp September evening, as Norah walked back to her office after treating a collicky baby at the Miller farm, the fragile piece she had built in Silver Creek shattered with the arrival of a telegram.

Mr.s.

Winters, who ran the telegraph office, handed it to her with undisguised curiosity.

Came in this afternoon, Dr.

Mitchell, marked urgent.

Norah thanked her and waited until she was alone in her office before opening it with trembling fingers.

found you stop payment expected stop arriving Silver Creek October 3 stop FB.

The paper slipped from Norah’s suddenly numb fingers.

Frederick Blackwell, her late father’s business partner and the man she’d fled Boston to escape.

The man who had threatened to destroy her reputation and career if she didn’t pay the debts her father had left behind debts she had no means to pay and strongly suspected were fraudulent.

Norah sank into her chair, her mind racing.

October 3rd was just 10 days away.

She had barely established herself here, had nowhere else to run, and certainly not enough money to pay what Blackwell claimed she owed.

Everything she had built in Silver Creek would be ruined once he arrived with his lies and threats.

She was still sitting there staring at nothing when a knock came at her door.

Without waiting for an answer, Everett Wade stepped in, a basket in his hand and a smile on his face that quickly faded when he saw her expression.

“Nora, what’s wrong?” It was the first time he had used her given name, and somehow that small intimacy broke something inside her.

To her horror, tears welled in her eyes.

“Nothing,” she managed, quickly wiping them away.

“Just tired,” Wade set the basket down and crossed to her side, kneeling beside her chair.

“That’s not your tired face.

That’s your world just ended face.

His voice was gentle but firm.

Talk to me.

Perhaps it was exhaustion or fear or the simple fact that Wade was looking at her with such genuine concern.

But Norah found herself telling him everything about her father’s death, the debts Blackwell claimed were owed, his increasingly threatening behavior, and her desperate flight west when he had suggested she could work off the debt in his bed.

I thought I’d escaped him, she finished, her voice hollow.

I should have known better.

WDE’s face had darkened with each word, his jaw tight with barely suppressed anger.

This man threatened you, tried to force himself on you.

Not in so many words.

He was too clever for that.

Norah rubbed her temples, but his meaning was clear enough.

Wade stood abruptly, pacing the small office.

And now he’s coming here.

Yes, to ruin everything I’ve built.

Norah looked up at him, despair washing over her.

The people here are just beginning to trust me.

One whisper from a respectable Boston businessman about impropriy or unpaid debts, and that trust will evaporate.

Wade stopped pacing, his expressions settling into something determined and dangerous.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.

” “There’s nothing you can do,” Norah said, shaking her head.

“I have no proof the debts aren’t legitimate.

It would be my word against his and and you’re a woman,” Wade finished grimly.

“I know how these things work.

” He knelt in front of her again, taking her hands in his.

His touch was warm, calloused from hard work, and inexplicably comforting.

“Nora, listen to me.

You are not alone in this.

Not anymore.

” The earnestness in his voice, the solid strength of his hands holding hers, it was almost too much.

Norah had been alone for so long, fighting her battles without help or comfort.

The possibility that she might not have to face this one alone was both terrifying and tempting.

“I don’t want your pity, Everett,” she said softly.

“Pity?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Is that what you think this is?” He shook his head, a rofful smile touching his lips.

“For a smart woman, you can be remarkably blind.

” Before Norah could ask what he meant, Wade stood, still holding her hands.

“We have 10 days before this Blackwell arrives.

10 days to prepare a welcome he won’t forget.

There was a glint in his eye that Norah might have found concerning if it weren’t directed at her tormentor.

What are you planning? First, we need to know exactly what we’re dealing with.

I have a friend in Denver who works for the Pinkerton Agency.

If Blackwell is as dishonest as you suspect, there might be a record of it.

Wade squeezed her hands.

Will you trust me with this? Norah looked up at him.

this man who had become so important to her in such a short time.

Trust was not something that came easily to her, not after everything she had endured.

But as she looked into Everett Wade’s eyes, she found she wanted to trust him more than she wanted to protect herself.

“Yes,” she said finally.

“I trust you.

” The smile that spread across his face was like sunrise breaking over the mountains.

“Good, then we fight this together.

” He released her hands and stepped back, his expression turning serious again.

But Nora, I need you to promise me something.

What? Don’t run.

Whatever happens, don’t disappear in the night.

I He paused, something vulnerable flashing across his features.

Silver Creek needs you.

Norah heard the words he didn’t say, saw them in his eyes.

Not just Silver Creek, he needed her, too.

The realization sent a tremor through her heart that was equal parts fear and longing.

I promise, she said, and meant it.

As Wade left to send a telegram to his Pinkerton contact, Norah stood at her window, watching his retreating figure, a curious lightness replacing some of the dread that had consumed her.

She was still afraid of what Blackwell might do.

Still uncertain of the future, but for the first time in years, she didn’t feel as though she faced that future alone.

The next day, Norah was examining young Samuel Taylor’s chest, pleased to find his cough much improved, when the office door burst open.

A ranch hand she recognized as one of WDE’s men stood there, his face pale beneath his tan.

Dr.

Mitchell, you got to come quick.

It’s Wade.

There’s been an accident at the ranch.

Norah’s heart lurched painfully.

What kind of accident? Horse threw him into a fence.

He’s bleeding bad.

Emma Taylor gripped Norah’s arm.

Go.

Dr.

Samuel’s fine now.

Norah didn’t need to be told twice.

She grabbed her medical bag and followed the ranch hand to a waiting wagon.

As they rattled out of town at breaknick speed, the man who introduced himself as Charlie explained what had happened.

Boss was breaking a new Mustang.

Mean creature, but WDs usually got away with even the worst of him.

This one though spooked at something and went crazy.

Threw Wade right into the corral fence.

post went right through his side.

Norah’s medical mind cataloged the possibilities, none of them good.

Puncture wounds were dangerous risk of infection, internal bleeding, damage to organs.

The fact that Wade was still at the ranch rather than being transported to town suggested he was too unstable to move.

WDE’s ranch was larger than Norah had imagined.

A sprawling property with a handsome two-story house and well-maintained outbuildings.

As the wagon pulled up to the main house, two men came out carrying a makeshift stretcher.

On it lay Everett weighed, his face gray with pain, his shirt soaked with blood.

“Get him inside,” Norah ordered, already assessing the wound.

A jagged tear in his left side oozed blood steadily.

“Not arterial bleeding, thank God, but serious nonetheless.

” They laid him on the dining table, which someone had cleared and covered with clean sheets.

WDE’s eyes fluttered open as Norah cut away his shirt.

“Didn’t expect to see you in my dining room,” he managed, his voice weak, but still carrying that hint of humor she had come to expect from him.

“Be quiet and let me work,” Norah said, though she couldn’t keep the relief from her voice at finding him conscious.

“This is going to hurt.

Already does,” he grunted.

The wound was deep, but had miraculously missed any vital organs.

The fence post had torn through muscle and tissue, but had stopped short of causing catastrophic damage.

Still, the risk of infection was high, and Wade had lost a significant amount of blood.

For the next hour, Norah worked meticulously, cleaning, debriding, and finally stitching the wound closed.

WDE remained conscious throughout, his jaw clenched against the pain, his eyes never leaving her face.

When she had finished bandaging him, Norah finally allowed herself to exhale fully.

“You’re lucky,” she told him, washing blood from her hands in a basin one of the ranch hands had provided.

“A few inches deeper, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

” “Seems I’m making a habit of being lucky around you,” Wade murmured, his voice stronger now that the immediate crisis had passed.

Norah instructed the men to move him carefully to his bed, then followed them upstairs to a large, surprisingly tidy bedroom.

Once Wade was settled, she shued everyone else out, needing to check his vital signs without an audience.

“Your men are devoted to you,” she observed as she took his pulse, trying to ignore how intimate it felt to be alone with him in his bedroom.

“Good men,” Wade agreed.

been with me since I started this place 8 years ago,” he winced as he shifted slightly.

“Sorry about this.

I know you have other patients.

Don’t apologize for nearly getting yourself killed,” Norah said sharply, then softened her tone.

“Mr.s.

” Taylor says, “Samuel is much better, and no one else in town was critically ill when I left.

” Wade watched her face as she worked, his blue eyes too perceptive despite his weakened state.

“You were worried?” It wasn’t a question, but Norah answered anyway.

Of course, I was worried.

You’re my friend.

The word felt inadequate, but she couldn’t bring herself to examine why.

A small smile played at the corners of WDE’s mouth.

Just a friend, Nora, she busied herself rearranging supplies in her bag, avoiding his gaze.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.

You’re not thinking clearly.

” “On the contrary,” Wade said softly.

“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in years.

” Before Norah could respond, a knock came at the bedroom door.

Charlie stuck his head in.

Sorry to interrupt Doc, but there’s a telegram came for the boss.

Messenger said it was urgent.

Norah took the telegram, thanking Charlie.

She recognized the Denver Pinkerton office address immediately.

It’s from your detective friend, she told Wade, breaking the seal.

Wade tried to sit up and immediately pald, falling back against the pillows.

Read it to me.

Nora unfolded the paper and read aloud.

Blackwell known to agency stop suspected of multiple frauds.

Stop currently under investigation for embezzlement.

Stop details followed by posttop.

Hope surged through Norah like a physical force.

He’s being investigated.

Everett, this could be the proof I need.

WDE’s smile was tired but triumphant.

Told you we’d fight this together.

Norah sat on the edge of the bed, the telegram clutched in her hand, suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the day, the fear when she’d heard Wade was injured, the relief that he would recover.

And now this unexpected ray of hope in her battle against Blackwell.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said softly.

Wade reached out, his hand finding hers.

“Stay,” he said simply.

“Here at the ranch until I’m recovered enough to help you deal with Blackwell when he arrives.

I can’t impose like that.

I have patience.

Charlie can fetch you if you’re needed in town.

It’s only a 15-minute ride.

His fingers tightened around hers.

Please, Nora.

I’d rest easier knowing you’re safe.

There were a dozen reasons to refuse propriety, independence, the danger of growing even closer to this man who already occupied too many of her thoughts.

But as Norah looked at Wade pale against the pillows, his strength temporarily diminished, but his determination unddeinished, she found she couldn’t say no.

All right, she agreed.

But only until you’re stronger.

And only because I don’t trust you not to tear those stitches the moment my back is turned.

WDE’s smile was like sunshine breaking through clouds.

I’ll be a model patient.

Somehow I doubt that, Norah replied dryly.

But she was smiling too.

A warm feeling spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the telegram still clutched in her hand and everything to do with the man whose hand held hers as if he never intended to let go.

The next week passed in a strange dreamlike state for Nora.

She divided her time between WDE’s ranch and her practice in town, treating patients during the day and returning to the ranch each evening.

Wade was, as she had predicted, a terrible patient, stubborn, restless, and determined to push his recovery faster than was medically advisable.

By the fourth day, she found him attempting to get out of bed on his own.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded from the doorway.

“Wade, who had managed to sit up but was clearly in pain, had the grace to look sheepish.

I need to check on the south pasture.

Got new calves that need.

The only thing you need is to get back in that bed before you tear my perfectly good stitches, Norah interrupted, crossing the room to help him lie down again.

Your men are perfectly capable of checking on calves.

I’m not used to lying around, Wade grumbled, though he allowed her to ease him back against the pillows.

Well, get used to it, Norah said firmly.

Another few days of rest and then we can discuss limited activity.

WDE caught her hand as she straightened his covers.

You’re a tyrant, Doctor Mitchell, and you’re the worst patient I’ve ever had, Mr. Wade.

Their eyes met, and Norah was suddenly very aware of how close she was standing to his bed, how intimate it felt to be in his bedroom with the evening sun casting long shadows across the floor.

WDE’s thumb traced a small circle on the inside of her wrist, sending an unexpected shiver up her arm.

“Nora,” he said softly, there’s something I need to tell you.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever he had been about to say.

Charlie stood there, his expression grave.

Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Sheriff Jenkins is here.

Says there’s been another bank robbery over in Clearwater.

Same gang as before, he thinks.

WDE’s expression hardened.

Any casualties? One dead the bank manager.

Sheriff’s putting together a posi to go after them.

Wanted to know if any of our boys would join.

Wade attempted to sit up again, wincing.

Tell him.

Tell him Mr. Wade is recovering from a serious injury and won’t be joining any poses, Norah interjected firmly.

But his men are free to make their own decisions.

Charlie looked between them, clearly torn between his loyalty to Wade and his respect for the doctor.

WDE finally nodded.

She’s right.

I’d be a liability in this condition.

Tell Jenkins I can spare three men if they want to ride with the posi.

Your choice who goes.

After Charlie left, Wade leaned back, frustration evident in the set of his jaw.

“I should be out there.

Those men killed someone this time.

And you would accomplish what exactly? By tearing open your wound and bleeding to death in the saddle?” Norah asked, checking his bandages.

“It’s not in my nature to stay behind while others fight my battles.

” Norah’s hands stilled.

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Asking you to fight my battle with Blackwell?” Wade’s expression softened.

No, Nora, that’s different.

He captured her hand again.

What I was trying to tell you before Charlie interrupted.

I didn’t help you because I felt obligated or because I pity you.

I helped because the sound of a wagon approaching cut him off.

Moments later, Mr.s.

Winters from the telegraph office was shown in her round face flushed with excitement at being in the infamous Bachelor Everett Wade’s bedroom.

Dr.

Mitchell, there’s a medical emergency in town.

The Perkins boy fell from the hoft and broke his arm.

Something terrible.

Bones sticking right out.

Norah was already reaching for her medical bag.

I’ll come right away.

She turned to Wade.

I’ll have to stay in town tonight if the boy needs monitoring.

Will you promise to rest and not do anything foolish? You have my word, Wade said, though the frustration hadn’t left his eyes.

Go.

The boy needs you more than I do right now.

As Norah hurried from the room, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wade had been about to tell her.

The way he had looked at her, the intensity in his eyes, it had seemed important, whatever it was.

But young Tommy Perkins’s compound fracture required all her attention, and by the time she had set the bone, administered Ludanam for the pain, and ensured there was no risk of infection, it was well past midnight.

She spent the night in her own bed for the first time in days.

strangely missing the creaking sounds of WDE’s ranch house and the knowledge that he was just down the hall.

The next morning brought news that the posi had tracked the bank robbers to an abandoned minehaft about 20 mi south of Silver Creek.

A shootout had ensued, leaving one robber dead and another wounded and captured.

The third had escaped on horseback, heading north towards Silver Creek.

Norah was checking Tommy Perkins’s arm when Mayor Higgins burst into her office.

his face red with exertion.

Dr.

Mitchell, you need to come to the town hall immediately.

It’s an emergency.

I’m with a patient, mayor, Norah said calmly.

Is someone injured? No, but he lowered his voice, though Tommy and his mother could clearly still hear.

There’s a gentleman from Boston here making some very serious accusations about you.

The town council has convened an emergency meeting.

Norah’s stomach dropped.

Blackwell, he was early 3 days early.

and he had gone straight to the town council with his lies.

“I see,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“I’ll be there as soon as I finished with Tommy.

” “Now, Dr.

Mitchell,” Higgins insisted.

“The council is waiting.

” Mr.s.

Perkins spoke up, her voice firm.

“You go on, doctor.

We can wait.

Sounds important.

” With reluctance, Norah packed her instruments and followed Higgins to the town hall.

Inside the council members sat at their long table, expressions ranging from concerned to disapproving.

And standing before them, immaculately dressed in a suit that must have cost more than Norah earned in 3 months, was Frederick Blackwell.

He turned as she entered, his thin face breaking into a smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes.

“Ah, Norah, how lovely to see you again, Mister Blackwell.

” Norah acknowledged, her voice clipped.

I understand you’ve been discussing me with the town council, merely setting the record straight, my dear.

” Blackwell’s voice oozed false concern.

These good people deserve to know about your complicated financial situation back in Boston.

Norah looked at the council members, most avoided her gaze, but she noticed the banker, Mr. Phillips, looking particularly troubled.

“And what exactly have you told them?” “Only the truth,” Blackwell said smoothly.

that you fled Boston, leaving substantial debts, unpaid debts incurred by your father, but legally transferable to you as his heir.

Debts owed to my company, which employed your father for many years.

That’s a lie, Norah said calmly, though her heart was pounding.

My father worked for Blackwell Shipping, yes, but any debts he may have incurred were business debts that died with him.

I inherited nothing but his personal effects.

Blackwell’s smile tightened.

I have documentation that proves otherwise, my dear.

Your father borrowed heavily against future earnings loans that you, as his beneficiary, are legally obligated to repay.

May I see this documentation? Norah asked.

Blackwell patted his breast pocket.

All in order, I assure you.

The Boston courts certainly thought so when they issued a judgment against you in absentia.

This was news to Norah, and from the murmurss around the room, it had the desired effect on the council.

A court judgment sounded official, damning.

Doctor Mitchell, Mayor Higgins said, his expression grave.

These are serious allegations.

If you’ve misrepresented yourself to this town, I have misrepresented nothing,” Norah interrupted.

“I am a fully qualified physician who came here in good faith to serve this community.

My personal financial affairs have no bearing on my medical abilities, but they speak to your character,” Blackwell interjected smoothly, fleeing legal obligations, hiding from creditors.

“These are not the actions of a person of integrity.

” Norah felt the room turning against her.

Even those council members who had gradually come to accept her seemed swayed by Blackwell’s polished accusations.

She opened her mouth to defend herself further when the town hall doors swung open with a bang.

Everett Wade stood in the doorway, pale but upright, one hand pressed to his injured side.

Behind him stood a well-dressed man Norah didn’t recognize, carrying a leather portfolio.

I believe, Wade said, his voice carrying easily across the suddenly silent room that this meeting might benefit from some additional information.

Blackwell turned, irritation flashing across his features before he composed them into a mask of polite inquiry.

And you are Everett Wade.

I own the DoubleW Ranch outside town.

Wade stepped into the room, moving carefully, but with purpose.

And this is Mr. James Morrison of the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s Denver office.

The mention of the Pinkertons caused a stir among the council members.

The AY’s reputation for thorough investigation was wellnown.

Mr. Morrison, Wade continued, perhaps you’d care to share what your agency has uncovered about Mr. Blackwell’s business practices.

Morrison stepped forward, opening his portfolio.

Frederick Blackwell is currently under investigation by both the Pinkerton Agency and the Boston Police for multiple counts of fraud, embezzlement, and extortion.

He produced several official looking documents.

We have statements from no fewer than six individuals who claim Blackwell fabricated debts and used threats to extract payment.

Blackwell’s face had gone from confident to thunderous.

This is outrageous.

I will not stand here and be slandered by by the truth.

Wade interrupted, his voice dangerously soft.

Dr.

Mitchell isn’t the first person you’ve tried to swindle Blackwell, but she will be the last.

Morrison continued, “Among our evidence is testimony from your former clerk, who admits to falsifying loan documents at your direction, including those purportedly signed by Dr.

Mitchell’s father.

” The town council was now looking at Blackwell with growing suspicion.

Mayor Higgins cleared his throat.

Mr. Blackwell, these are serious counter allegations, lies, and fabrications.

Blackwell spat, but his confidence was clearly shaken.

I have a court judgment obtained through purgured testimony and falsified documents, Morrison interjected smoothly.

The Boston courts have already been notified and are reviewing the case.

I expect the judgment to be vacated within the week.

Blackwell’s face had turned an alarming shade of red.

He looked wildly around the room, then fixed his gaze on Nora.

You think you’ve won? You’re nothing but a woman playing at being a doctor.

No one will ever take you seriously.

That’s enough, Wade said, stepping between Norah and Blackwell.

Despite his injury, he seemed to tower over the other man.

Doctor Mitchell has saved more lives in her short time here than you’ve ever done with your entire miserable existence.

She is respected and valued in this community.

There were murmurss of agreement from around the room.

Even the most skeptical council members were nodding.

I think Mayor Higgins said firmly that this meeting is concluded.

Mr. Blackwell, I suggest you leave Silver Creek immediately.

You can’t, Blackwell began, but fell silent as Sheriff Jenkins appeared in the doorway, summoned by one of the council members.

Is there a problem here? Jenkins asked, his hand resting casually on his gun belt.

Mr. Blackwell was just leaving, Wade said, his eyes never leaving Blackwell’s face.

weren’t you? For a moment, it seemed Blackwell might argue further, but faced with the combined disapproval of the room and the sheriff’s watchful presence, he finally backed down.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered to Norah as he gathered his papers.

“Yes,” Norah said quietly.

“It is.

” As Blackwell was escorted out by Sheriff Jenkins, the tension in the room broke.

Council members approached Norah with apologies and assurances of their continued support.

Morrison explained that he had come to Silver Creek specifically to apprehend Blackwell, who was now likely to face criminal charges in Boston.

Through it all, Wade remained at Norah’s side, a solid, reassuring presence, despite the fact that he was clearly in pain from his exertions.

When the council finally adjourned and the room emptied, Norah turned to him.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she scolded, though there was no real anger in her voice.

“You could have torn your stitches.

Some things are worth the risk, Wade said simply.

They walked slowly out of the town hall into the bright afternoon sunshine.

The street was busy with the normal activities of a small town, horses and wagons passing, children playing, people going about their business.

It all looked exactly the same as it had that morning.

Yet Norah felt as though everything had changed.

“Thank you,” she said softly as they paused on the boardwalk.

for believing in me, for helping me fight.

” Wade looked down at her, his expression serious.

“I told you before, I didn’t do it out of obligation or pity.

” “Then why?” He took a deep breath, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his injury.

Because from the moment you knelt in the dust to save my life, I knew you were someone special.

Because every time you walk into a room, it gets brighter.

because he broke off, seeming to struggle for words, then simply said, “Because I love you, Norah Mitchell.

” The words hung in the air between them, honest and unadorned.

Norah felt as though the ground had shifted beneath her feet.

No man had ever said those words to her before, not like this, not with such simple certainty.

“Every eyes,” she faltered, overwhelmed by emotions she had kept carefully contained for so long.

“I can’t.

” Pain flickered across his face, quickly masked.

You don’t have to say anything.

I just wanted you to know.

No, that’s not.

Norah took a steadying breath.

I’ve spent so long not allowing myself to hope for anything beyond survival.

I don’t know if I remember how.

Understanding dawned in Wade’s eyes.

He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away and took her hand.

Then don’t hope yet, he said gently.

I’ll hold the hope for both of us until you’re ready.

Something broke open inside Norah’s chest at his words.

a dam she had built around her heart years ago when her father died and left her alone in a world that seemed determined to crush her.

Tears welled in her eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness.

“I think,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I might be ready sooner than I thought.

” Wade’s smile was like sunrise breaking over the mountains.

Slowly, giving her every chance to step away, he bent his head toward hers.

Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle at first, then deepened as Norah’s arms went around his neck, careful of his injury, but unwilling to let go.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and smiling, several towns people were staring openly.

“Mr.s.

” Winters was already hurrying toward the telegraph office, no doubt eager to spread the news that Silver Creek’s female doctor and its most eligible rancher had been seen kissing in broad daylight.

People will talk, Norah murmured, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Let them, Wade replied, his eyes never leaving her face.

Gives them something to do besides getting sick or injured.

Norah laughed, a free, unbburdened sound that felt foreign to her own ears.

“You need to get back to bed before you undo all my good work,” she said, falling into step beside him as they walked slowly toward where his horse was tethered.

Only if my doctor agrees to have dinner with me when I’m recovered, Wade countered.

A proper dinner in town where everyone can see that I’m courting you with honorable intentions.

Courting me? Norah repeated her heart doing a strange little flip at the old-fashioned word.

Unless you object.

There was a hint of uncertainty in WDE’s voice.

Now, Norah pretended to consider it, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Well, you are a terrible patient, but I suppose you have other qualities that might compensate.

WDED’s laugh was warm and rich, drawing smiles from passers by, such as, “You’ll have to court me properly to find out,” Norah replied with a smile that felt as bright as the sun overhead.

As Wade helped her onto his horse before carefully mounting behind her, his arms encircling her waist as they rode slowly back toward the ranch, Norah felt something she hadn’t experienced in years, perhaps had never truly experienced before.

Hope.

6 months later, with spring bringing new life to the plains around Silver Creek, Norah stood in the small back garden of what was now her home, watching butterflies dance among the first wild flowers.

The house, which had once felt too large and empty for a single woman, now felt just right for a married doctor’s practice, with a separate entrance for patients and comfortable living quarters upstairs.

Thinking deep thoughts, came a familiar voice from behind her.

Norah turned to find Everett watching her from the back door, his tall frame filling the doorway.

He had fully recovered from his injury, though he claimed it still achd when rain was coming a claim.

Norah suspected he made primarily so she would fuss over him.

“Just enjoying the quiet before my next patient arrives,” she said, smiling as he crossed to her side.

“Mr.s.

Johnson is bringing the twins for their checkup, and they’re never quiet.

” “Wade slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him.

I rode into town to check on that lumber order for the new clinic.

Should be here next week.

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