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  “I don’t.” But Adam grinned and laughter lurked in his dark eyes. “You have to admit, though, getting married is one of the biggest events in a man’s life. I talked with God about becoming a doctor. Why not about marriage?”

  “You sound like a parson,” his chief rival for top honors accused. “Maybe you should have gone into preaching.”

  “I thought of it.” Adam raised one eyebrow. “But I believe no one should take that honor unless called of God and I feel no such call.” He yawned. “Enough talking. I have one tough examination first thing in the morning.”

  Even when he completed his training and became established in Concord, Adam shied away from the droves of young women who hounded him. Something fine inside refused to succumb to those who set traps for him and generally were nuisances. Once he exploded to his father, “Why can’t they see real men can’t abide their silliness?” His face softened. “Mother isn’t like that and I bet she never was.”

  A poignant look of remembrance touched Jeremiah’s craggy features. “Patience lived and continues to live up to the Proverbs description of what a godly woman and wife should be. My boy, no man has ever had a better companion.” As if regretting the moment, he snapped, “Now, let’s get back to business. Have you convinced old man Trescott to let you treat him or is he still insisting on seeing me?”

  They launched into a medical discussion but Adam’s heart warmed to his father in a way it had seldom done since Nat left.

  Now a pair of dark eyes—no, two pairs of dark eyes—haunted him. Sadie Brown issued an invitation for the visiting doctor to have supper with them and Ivy Ann prettily concurred. Laurel’s quiet look convinced him. Before Adam remounted to ride back to Doc’s, he had accepted further invitations to drop by any time he could.

  The second time he came ended with a discussion of the opportunities out West.

  “Is it true that women are really allowed to vote and to hold office in the Wyoming Territory?” Thomas might be a farmer but he loved to keep up on events outside his own domain. His eyes glistened.

  So did Laurel’s. When Ivy Ann whispered, “Who cares?” her sister whispered back fiercely, “I do! Be still and listen, will you?” Ivy’s eyes opened wide like a spanked kitten’s but she acquiesced.

  “My brother Nathaniel writes that it’s all true.” Adam glowed with pride. He had sketched in why Nathaniel went West, surprised and pleased that the Browns bore no resentment toward a Northerner who wouldn’t fight. He had also shared how Nat wandered until he came to a point where he truly believed God wanted him to serve as a minister. Nat chose Antelope in the opening territory because, Adam quoted his brother, “‘The fields are white already to harvest.’”

  “He sounds terribly good to me,” Ivy Ann put in.

  Adam glanced at her sharply but her innocent face gave no sign of criticism, only admiration.

  “Tell us more.” Sadie echoed Laurel’s unspoken plea. “What about Indian trouble? And women’s voting rights?” Her eyes snapped. “About time wives and mothers were allowed to have a say.”

  “Mama’s all for women being given the vote.” Ivy Ann couldn’t keep out of the conversation long. “So’s Laurel.” She shot a look of mischief toward her twin.

  “How about you?”

  Ivy Ann covered a dainty yawn with slender fingers. “Dear me, I’m not sure I could choose.” A shout of laughter followed but Adam took her seriously.

  “Just surviving in a new and untamed land is hard. The women work alongside their men and bear children as well.” He saw the shocked look that passed between the girls. “I ask forgiveness if I’m indelicate, but as a doctor I see the bearing of children as natural.” He quickly changed the subject. “About women voting, Congress created the Territory of Wyoming in 1868 and in 1869 the Wyoming Territorial Legislature gave women the right to vote and hold elected office. In 1870, Esther H. Morris became the nation’s first woman justice of the peace.”

  Inspired by all but Ivy Ann’s rapt attention, Adam went on, quoting from Nathaniel and from everything he had read, in fact all he could find about the new western frontier.

  “Lieutenant John Fremont explored the Wind River Mountains way back in 1842 and 1843 but fur trade began just after 1800. Over the years it resulted in the Indian wars we’ve heard about. But the discovery of gold in the 1860s in Montana triggered off trouble.”

  “Then you’ll be going into danger?” Wide-eyed Ivy Ann leaned forward, making a pretty picture in the firelight and softly shaded lamplight.

  Adam shook his head, “No, Red Cloud and other Indian leaders signed a treaty about five years ago. They agreed not to interfere with the building of the Union Pacific Railroad in southern Wyoming in exchanged for the army’s abandonment of Fort Phil Kearney and two other forts. This gave northeastern Wyoming back to the Indians who hated this fort.” Doubt filled Adam’s eyes. “Nat says it’s an uneasy truce and peace.”

  Laurel spilled over. “I don’t blame the Indians at all! If reports are true, they’ve been lied to again and again.”

  “All the more reason for Nat to establish a church in Antelope. He hopes not only to reach the cowboys and miners and ranchers in that area, but perhaps take the Gospel to the Indians.”

  “You are really going, aren’t you?” Ivy Ann asked. “But what about your wife? Will she leave Massachusetts and live in the place called Antelope?”

  “Wife!” Adam’s hearty laugh filled the room and brought answering smiles to the others’ faces. “I have no wife. Anyway, what decently brought up girl would give up everything and trail along with me to such an untried country? Would you?” He looked deep into Ivy Ann’s dark eyes.

  Ivy wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Go out where there’s nothing but cowboys and miners and ranchers?”

  “Oh, there are other things,” Adam said solemnly. “Jackrabbits and mule deer, elk and black bears. There are grizzly bears and mountain lions, lynxes and coyotes, foxes, skunks, and wildcats.”

  “Please, no more!” Ivy covered her ears.

  “I haven’t even begun.” Adam’s excitement knew no bounds and lighted fires of interest in the others. “We mustn’t forget the fur animals such as beavers, raccoons, martens, and otters. Or the pronghorns—”

  “What’s a pronghorn?” Ivy Ann took down her hands and pouted. “Another dangerous animal?”

  “They’re like a deer and like an antelope and roam the Rocky Mountain plains area by the thousands. Nat says they’re so beautiful they make his throat hurt. Tan with dark markings and short black horns, their varied coloration protects them by blending into their surroundings.

  “You know, the Wyoming Territory has flat land and towering peaks and rugged canyons, racing rivers and waterfalls.”

  “I’ve heard that it’s dreadfully cold.” Ivy Ann shivered.

  “In winter, yes, but a dry cold that men can stand.” Adam breathed deeply.

  “Men, but not women.” Ivy Ann tossed her curly head. “Why don’t you just settle around here? There’s plenty of need for a new doctor.” She smiled provocatively. “Lots of pretty girls, too, and, as you said, no decently brought up girl would go out there with you—”

  “I would.” Laurel said. Then red blood flooded her smooth skin. “I mean, that is, not with Dr. Birchfield, but if I were in love with someone….”

  For the second time in their acquaintance something passed between Adam and the quiet twin who had so bravely spoken out. For a single instant a feeling of kinship existed before being suddenly shattered by Ivy Ann’s laughing accusation:

  “You know you’ll marry someone right around here, Laurel, so don’t sound all noble! You couldn’t bear to be away from Shawnee more than a few miles, any more than I could.” She gracefully rose, linked her arm in Laurel’s, and pulled her to her feet. The twins’ wide, soft skirts rustled and swayed with the movement.

  “See, Dr. Birchfield? You don’t really think young women like us should go to the Wyoming Territory, do you?�
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  Adam’s heart plummeted and he silently called himself a fool. After twenty-five years of walking alone, why should the impossibility of such a thing affect him? He stood, better able to think while on his feet. He paused in the way he had of thinking before ever committing himself. When he spoke it came from a belief that had crystallized while reading and rereading Nathaniel’s letters.

  “Miss Brown,” Adam’s gaze turned from Ivy Ann to Laurel. “Whether Christian young women such as you would go to the Wyoming Territory I have no way of knowing. But yes, I believe such women should. Without decent women to establish and maintain homes and schools and churches, wild and lawless men can only live rough lives, shorn of the beauty only women can provide. Nathaniel says the few wives who have accompanied their mates are already making a difference. They are almost worshipped by those very men who shoot and gamble!”

  Undaunted, Ivy Ann tossed her head again. “I’ve heard the women in the West are—are—” She struggled to find an acceptable but significantly telling word. “Are bad,” she finished triumphantly.

  Adam folded his arms and looked stern. “There will always be bad women and men as long as strong Christian followers balk at inconvenience, danger, and hardship.” He clamped his lips into a straight line then deliberately smiled, hoping to erase the impression of criticism. “I must go. I am grateful for your warm Southern hospitality. We who live in the North should be so gracious.”

  “Goodnight, Dr. Birchfield.” Ivy Ann extended one hand and clung to her twin with the other. “Perhaps your mission is to convince certain Christian followers. Do come again.”

  Adam hid a grin. He had nettled this young woman more than she cared to admit. He bowed over her hand, then Laurel’s. “If time permits, I will.” He turned toward Thomas and Sadie. “Forgive me for monopolizing the conversation. I never could resist Nat’s enthusiasm. As soon as I finish my promised stay here I plan to go West.” He smiled. “I frankly admit I’m glad I can ride the Union Pacific across country. I’m not yet skilled enough at horseback riding to relish the thought of traveling that way.”

  In true Southern custom, the Browns accompanied Adam outside. Thomas insisted on helping him saddle the filly and all four stood in the cool night air until the sound of hoofbeats dwindled and faded into distant silence.

  “He’s a bit of a crusader, isn’t he?” Ivy Ann flounced inside and away from her family’s protest. “Can you imagine?” She folded her arms and said in a passable imitation of Adam’s pronouncement, “Whether Christian young women such as you would go to Wyoming I have no way of knowing. But yes, I believe such women should….” She broke off and mirthfully grasped her sides. “For pity’s sake, deliver me from earnest young men!” Still laughing, she lightly ran upstairs.

  Laurel felt reluctant to follow. The entire evening had quickened her senses as nothing had done before. Before Adam Birchfield’s arrival the vague sense of wanting something more than her present way of life had smoldered. The intense young doctor had fueled her discontent. She also remembered his challenging words. Not lightly, as did Ivy Ann, but in a way that she couldn’t fully comprehend.

  Her own faltering explanation flashed into her mind like a sunrise over mountains. “I mean, that is, not with Dr. Birchfield, but if I were in love with someone….”

  Laurel slowly climbed the stairs, treasuring the surprised and admiring glance Adam had given her, the feeling of kinship. Even Ivy Ann had been excluded from that moment. If only he were staying longer, perhaps the fragile thread could strengthen. She sighed and reached the top of the stairs then walked down the hall to her room and to Ivy Ann.

  Laurel’s heartfelt wish changed in the short time before Adam Birchfield went West and out of her life forever. Obviously piqued by the way the doctor had at first equally divided his attention between the twins, Ivy pulled out every trick from her enormous store of enticements. A soft hand laid on Adam’s arm when it wasn’t necessary. The cocked head and intense concentration on what he said. Downcast eyes followed by a quick upward sweep of long lashes over melting brown eyes.

  Laurel secretly raged, angry with Ivy Ann and even more furious with herself. None of the tricks were new. She just hated seeing them used on Adam. “He’s too fine for cheapness,” she whispered to herself, then wondered why she cared.

  Yet she quietly rejoiced the day Ivy Ann overstepped herself. Clad in one of Laurel’s favorite blue gowns, the scheming young woman met Adam at the door, made up an excuse about her sister not feeling well, and prepared to keep Adam to herself. She didn’t identify herself as Laurel but neither did she act like Ivy Ann. A half-hour later when a perfectly healthy and unsuspecting Laurel came into the big living room calling, “Ivy Ann, Mama wants us,” she met Adam’s shocked gaze.

  “How do you like my little trick?” Ivy Ann asked Adam, but Laurel saw her twin’s fingers tremble in the folds of the blue gown.

  “I find deceit in any form totally abominable. It is nice that your sister has recovered—so rapidly.”

  Ivy Ann turned crimson and cast a resentful glance at Laurel who just stood there.

  “Miss Brown, may I have the pleasure of your company while getting my horse?” Adam asked Laurel.

  “Oh, we’ll both go with you.” Ivy Ann tucked her hand under his arm in the way that never failed to obtain forgiveness.

  Adam didn’t unbend. “Miss Brown?” He offered his other arm to Laurel, who felt torn between wanting to laugh and ignoring Ivy’s glare. Flanked by the young women, so alike and yet so opposite, Adam reached his horse, bowed, and rode off “stiffer than Mama’s starched petticoats,” Ivy Ann complained. Unholy glee filled Laurel. If they never met another man Ivy couldn’t twine around her finger, at least Adam Birchfield hadn’t succumbed to Ivy’s tricks.

  Adam only had time to visit once more. Several times Laurel caught his glance resting on her but, as usual, Ivy Ann kept herself on center stage. Never had she been more vivacious and lovely, bewildering and changeable as in a rosy gown that modestly left visible only a little round of white neck and dimpled hands below her ruffled sleeves. If she felt embarrassment or contrition over Adam’s last visit, even Laurel couldn’t see it. By mutual agreement, neither twin had told their parents what had happened. Thomas and Sadie well knew their daughter’s ways but Laurel never carried tales and Ivy seldom confessed anything that would mar her image.

  Adam appeared restless and Laurel knew how eager he must be to get going. When Ivy vanished for a few minutes he shared his heart’s concern. “It’s close to twelve years. I wonder if Nathaniel and I will have to get acquainted all over. There’s a lot of difference between twenty and almost thirty-two.”

  “No more than between fourteen and more than twenty-five,” Sadie reminded. She patted the young doctor’s hand. “The same love you and your brother shared while he lived at home is there.” She pointed to the fireplace, well banked for the night. “See?” Sadie tossed a twig and flames shot out to snatch it greedily. “That’s all it will take.”

  Laurel watched Adam’s bowed head and saw his throat work. God grant that he would find his brother well. Envy swept through her. If she were a man she would do as Adam Birchfield had chosen to do—go where decent, law-abiding people could make a difference. But Daddy and Mama would never agree to her going West. Unless you married someone who lived there, a little voice said inside.

  Glad for once of Ivy’s renewed chatter Laurel silently enjoyed the final minutes of Adam’s company. Why did she have to be so tongue-tied? Why couldn’t she be more like her twin? Yet even her special love for Ivy Ann couldn’t blind her to the fact Adam simply hadn’t fallen at her sister’s small feet. His voice remained the same when he bid each of them goodbye.

  “May God go with you,” Thomas said when he gripped Adam’s hand. “I almost wish I were going, too.”

  Laurel saw the blaze in Adam’s face and the way his hand tightened. “Perhaps, sir, one day you will.”

  “Leave Red Cedars?” Th
omas acted surprised yet something in his face when he turned toward his wife and daughters sent a strange spurt of hope through Laurel. What if they did go West, all of them, in spite of Ivy Ann’s fretting? Her traitorous heart skipped a beat then rushed on. The prospect of seeing Adam Birchfield again sent flags flying in her cheeks and in her heart.

  Chapter 4

  Every mile of the long journey between Shawnee, West Virginia, and Antelope, Wyoming Territory, strengthened Adam Birchfield’s belief in the rightness of his decision. Every mile proved a revelation to the once provincial young man who had been born, raised, and schooled in Massachusetts. Not until his West Virginia odyssey had Adam seen anything other than his own state or been on his own. At home and school Jeremiah had dominated. In West Virginia the good old mountain doctor took a father’s place. The intoxicating allure of freedom flowed in Adam’s veins and consumed his every thought.

  With every mile he thanked God for this opportunity and asked for Jeremiah’s eventual forgiveness. At times he felt remorseful over the way he had sent news of his departure too late for his father to respond. Yet what good would more arguments have done except to worsen things between father and son? Better to follow Mrs. Cutler’s advice and go without more anger. Mother must never again be forced to stand by helplessly and see a son cast out.

  Adam thrilled to the ever-changing scenes that fled past his window seat. Rolling hills gave way to gentle farmlands; cities that had meant little more than a test of memory in geography sprang into solid, unforgettable places. Time after time he marveled. How could even the sturdiest pioneer have traveled the weary miles, walking behind covered wagons that stirred up dust? A little pang went through him. How many of those same men, women, and children lay beneath the prairie sod, mute witnesses to the settling of the West? A little prayer of gratitude filled his heart.

  He resented the darkness, boyishly afraid he would miss something. As long as twilight showed even the most open, empty land, Adam strained his eyes to see. “I may never be here again,” he whispered then straightened, shocked at himself. Had he so fallen in love with Nathaniel’s West he was ready to disown the East forever? Impossible! Mother, Father, everything he knew lay waiting in Massachusetts.