“Because fear is not permission to cage somebody.”
Penny kissed him.
Then went.
She studied medicine in Denver.
Harder than anything she had done.
Men laughed when she entered anatomy lectures.
Professors ignored her questions until she answered theirs better than male students.
Patients sometimes refused examination.
Others requested her specifically.
She wrote Declan every week.
Sometimes twice.
His letters were short.
Snow bad. Cow stupid. Miss you.
Then longer.
I fixed east fence. It leaned because I built it badly, not because weather hates me. You would have enjoyed being right.
Another:
I found your red scarf behind bed. It still smells like your soap. This information is private and you may not use it against me.
Penny absolutely used it against him.
I am delighted the terrifying mountain man spends evenings smelling my scarf. Shall I send perfume?
His reply:
Marriage was mistake.
At the bottom:
Send perfume.
Penny returned home permanently after completing training.
Twin Rivers had never had a formally educated woman physician.
Some celebrated.
Some complained.
Most became less philosophical when sick.
Dr. Penelope Frost became indispensable within three years.
Declan built an extra room beside the ranch cabin for patients needing mountain care.
Penny delivered babies there.
Set fractures.
Treated pneumonia.
Removed bullets twice.
Declan became surprisingly good at nursing.
Children loved him.
He pretended not to care.
Then one spring morning, Penny became nauseated while making breakfast.
She stared at the bread.
Declan stared at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She sat.
He moved closer.
“Penny.”
She counted dates.
Then counted again.
Her heart began pounding.
Declan saw her expression.
“What?”
She looked up.
“I may be pregnant.”
He became absolutely still.
Penny waited.
No smile.
No joy.
Fear.
She understood.
Mary.
Sixth wife.
Childbirth.
Declan stepped backward.
“No.”
Penny stared.
His face collapsed.
“No.”
“Declan.”
“No.”
He left the cabin.
Penny found him near the graves.
Of course.
She approached.
He would not turn.
She placed one hand against his back.
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
“Mary.”
His shoulders tightened.
“She bled.”
“I know.”
“I couldn't stop it.”
“I know.”
“The doctor couldn't.”
“I know.”
He turned.
“I can't watch you die.”
Penny touched his face.
“Then don't decide that I will.”
His eyes filled.
“I should have been more careful.”
Penny almost laughed despite the moment.
“We were both involved.”
He looked miserable.
She continued:
“I know the risks.”
“That makes it worse.”
“No.”
“It makes us prepared.”
Penny had access to better medicine.
Training.
Midwives.
Samuel.
Denver specialists if needed.
Nothing guaranteed safety.
But no curse existed.
And Mary's chronic poisoning likely worsened her pregnancy.
The clean water changed risk dramatically.
Still, Declan feared.
Throughout Penny’s pregnancy, he became unbearable.
“You lifted that.”