Wild Western Women Mistletoe, Montana: Sweet Western Historical Holiday Box Set Read online

  Mistletoe Montana

  Wild Western Women

  Caroline Clemmons

  Sylvia McDaniel

  Merry Farmer

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Contents

  Mistletoe Mistake

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Mistletoe Scandal

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Want to Read Seth’s Parent’s Story?

  Also By Sylvia McDaniel

  Misteletoe and Moonbeams

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Merry Farmer

  Mail Order Merry

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Mistletoe Mistake

  Caroline Clemmons

  Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Clemmons

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Introduction

  Shannon Callahan worked hard to become a physician. In New York, she meets resistance to a woman doctor and feels she is no more than a midwife. When the opportunity arises for her to go to Montana and be the only doctor in the town of Mistletoe, she grabs the chance.

  Riley McCallister is sheriff of Mistletoe. When he learns the new doctor is a woman, he is shocked and vows never to let her treat him—no matter how beautiful she is. Slowly, Shannon’s skill wins his respect—and more. Shannon’s skill and dedication during a measles epidemic convinces the town she is a good doctor—but does their acceptance come too late?

  Chapter 1

  Mistletoe, Montana, July 1, 1890

  Sheriff Riley McCallister stood with his head bowed as Preacher Bart Nichols conducted the funeral for Doctor William Jones. The crowd included most of the folks in town and many from across the county. Doc was beloved for his kindness and compassion as well as for his medical knowledge.

  A vice wrapped around Riley’s chest. He gulped to swallow his grief before he bawled like a baby. Will had been his best friend, the man who’d mentored Riley since he’d drifted into Mistletoe four years ago. The doctor advised and listened to Riley talk as he worked through decisions. He was more like a father should be than Riley’s real parent ever had been.

  After the funeral, John Gibson, the town’s lawyer, kept step with Riley. “Shame the doc couldn’t diagnose and treat his own heart ailment.”

  Riley shook his head. “Sometimes there’s nothing to do. What’ll the town do without a doctor until we have a new one?”

  John clapped him on the back. “He’ll be missed by everyone. Sorry, Sheriff, I know you and the doc were close friends.”

  “We were. Thanks. Played chess with him most every evening.”

  “Townsfolk look to you to solve their problems. Guess that weighs you down, but you do a good job. What’re your plans about this?”

  Riley rubbed his jaw. “Will Jones graduated from Cornell University Medical School in New York. Figured that was a good place to start. I sent a long wire telling them to send us a doctor right away and spelling out what we need and what we offer.”

  “You heard back from them?”

  “A Doctor Callahan will be here first of August. Until then, let’s hope no one needs treatment.”

  August 1, 1890

  The conductor walking down the train’s aisle called, “Mistletoe, Montana next stop. Coming into Mistletoe.”

  Doctor Shannon Callahan straightened her hat as the train chugged into the station. In a few minutes she’d meet the townspeople who would be her patients. Her heart beat so loudly she was certain passengers around her could hear.

  What if Mistletoe’s citizens didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them? What if the house the town provided was hideous or so flimsy the cold poured in during the long winters? What if her father was right and she was making a huge mistake in coming here?

  Worrying herself into a quivering wreck was pointless. With hisses, jerks, and clanks, the train stopped. She picked up her medical bag and her valise and made her way to the exit. The conductor helped her step down. From the baggage car, her two trunks were plunked onto the platform.

  Apparently she was the only passenger to disembark. After a burst of steam, the train huffed into motion. A group of maybe two dozen people stared at her but no one spoke. Beyond them, behind the town, magnificent mountains met the bluest sky she’d ever seen.

  Squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, she walked toward the waiting group. “Is one of you waiting for Dr. Callahan?”

  A tall, lanky man wearing a badge stepped forward and frowned at her. If not for his scowl, he’d be one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. His long legs made short work of his stride toward her.

  His dark brown eyes held questions. “We were expecting Mistletoe’s new doctor, but …” he assessed her from her hat to her toes and back again, “But, well, you’re a woman.”

  “You’re good at recognizing clues. I’ll bet you’re a great sheriff.” She faced him with unwavering determination. “I’m Doctor Shannon Callahan.”

  From the back of the crowd, a man called, “Sheriff, you didn’t say nothing about the new doc being a female. I ain’t lettin’ no woman doctor me.”

  The sheriff silenced the man with a glare. When he refocused on her, he appeared to be mulling over his options.

  Panic crushed her. She had hoped people here would be more accepting than those in her father’s practice. The offer had sounded good—the only doctor in the county. Her dreams crashed around her. Surely this man wouldn’t send her back to New York.

  She lifted her chin in a bluff so these people wouldn’t realize how frightened she was. “I’ve had a long trip and I’m exhausted. Are you going to show me where I’ll be living and have someone get my trunks? I believe a house, a horse, and a buggy come with my contract.”

  “What contract? All I have is a wire.”

  She set down her luggage and pulled the papers from her purse. “Apparently the medical school requires conditions in writing. I had to agree to a six month stay or they’d choose someone else.”

  He took the agreement from her. His lengthy wire was fastened t
o the front page. After scanning the pact, he raised his eyes to meet hers. “If this is binding for us—and I don’t see how it could be—looks like we’re stuck with you for the next six months.”

  She fought her panic. “You certainly know how to make a person feel welcome, Sheriff. I repeat, is someone going to help me with my trunks?”

  He nodded at a couple of men. “Harold, Zeke, load her trunks into the wagon.”

  Her attention was drawn to a dilapidated wagon parked near the platform. The two men strode toward the luggage.

  Hands on his hips, the sheriff’s frown returned. “Might as well show you the house. Only a short walk.” Instead of offering his arm to escort her, he pivoted and stalked off the platform.

  Hurrying to keep up, she called, “Don’t trouble yourself to help me, Sheriff. I can carry these and keep up if I run.”

  He stopped so suddenly she bumped into him. When he faced her, his dark eyes sparked with anger. “You’re already trouble. Give me the dad-blamed suitcases.”

  She smiled sweetly, as if carrying them had been his idea. “Why, thank you, Sheriff. How nice of you to offer.” Handing him the valise, she said, “I prefer to hold on to my medical bag.”

  She noticed the crowd following them hung back ten feet.

  “Suit yourself. Place is this way.” He at least slowed his pace so she could match his stride.

  She’d heard about wild western towns and had been prepared to see cowboys riding through shooting. Instead, the town appeared a smaller, quieter version of many she’d seen from the train. She inhaled the purest, freshest air she’d ever breathed.

  Her lawman guide led her past a saloon called the Holey Bucket. Other businesses included the mercantile, a lawyer’s office, a newspaper, a café, two more saloons, and a barbershop. In the distance she spotted a church and at least two dozen homes.

  “Mistletoe looks like a nice town. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’m pleased so far.”

  He didn’t even glance her way. “Good place to live.”

  She hoped she didn’t reveal how winded she was. “Is there much crime?”

  “Not since I came” He sent her a speculative glance. “You plan to create trouble?”

  “That was not my intention. I have the feeling my showing up has been… um, inconvenient for you.”

  “Expected a man.” He clenched his jaw so hard and a ridge of muscle moved.

  “That’s rather obvious. Did you request a male physician?”

  He shot her a disdainful glance. “Had no idea I needed to. Never saw a female doctor. Didn’t know Cornell graduated them.”

  “You are behind the times, Sheriff. The first women doctor, Elizabeth Blackwell, began treating patients in 1854. Although, she didn’t attend Cornell, but another eastern medical school.”

  “She still seeing patients or has she killed them all?”

  “Aren’t you funny? She’s something of a crusader for women. I believe she’s currently in England.”

  “Here we are.” He stopped and gestured to a blue cottage trimmed with white. The paint appeared fresh and the yard was neat. A sign hanging from a sturdy post announced

  Shannon Callahan

  Doctor

  She opened the white picket gate. “Why, this is lovely.”

  He followed her to the front porch and gestured at the crowd. “Ladies cleaned the place and stocked the pantry. Men painted the outside and touched up the buggy.”

  She faced the onlookers. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate what you’ve done on my behalf. I’ll try to justify your faith.”

  She could have sworn the sheriff snorted under his breath. “You know anything about horses?”

  “I enjoy riding and cared for my horse at home.” She didn’t explain that the family’s stable hand helped her and often took over to save her time. “My father gave me lessons in driving before I left New York.”

  “Animals have to be fed and watered every day. Brushed, hooves cleaned, exercised, and such. You know how to do any of that?”

  “I’ve done all of those chores.” That didn’t mean she enjoyed the activities, but she’d manage. There’d be no stable hand to help her here.

  He tapped a blackboard mounted to the wall beside the front door. “If you go out on a house call, you write here where you’re going and how long you think you’ll be gone. Let’s folks know when to expect your return.”

  “That’s a clever arrangement.” She liked the blackboard and the shelf with sticks of chalk and an eraser.

  He unlocked the door then handed the key to her. “May as well go on in.” He stood aside as she entered. “Mrs. Connie Amherst was in charge of the ladies who cleaned the house. Mrs. Amherst, you want to give the doctor a tour?”

  A woman in her late twenties stepped forward. She was well-dressed and carried herself with authority. “I’ll be happy to, Sheriff.”

  She gestured to two of the other women in the crowd. “Mrs. Lily Holloway and Mrs. Phoebe Porter assisted in planning and carrying out the home’s refurbishment. They and other women in town pitched in to help. Lily, Phoebe, please join us. Harold, you and Zeke put the trunks upstairs in the front bedroom.”

  Mrs. Amherst didn’t wait for her companions. “As you can see, Dr. Jones turned the parlor into his waiting room. The treatment room and his office are here on the left. Since we don’t have a hospital, there’s an area through that doorway with beds for two patients.”

  Shannon surveyed the layout and set her medical bag on the office desk before returning to the front. “This is efficiently arranged and clean as can be. Obviously you and whoever else helped did a good job.”

  Mrs. Porter sniffed. “Of course, we expected a man. We had no idea a woman doctor would be foisted on us.”

  Mrs. Holloway gasped and gestured toward the back. “There’s a nice kitchen. We gave you a pounding.”

  She imagined Mrs. Amherst and Mrs. Porter would like to pound on her—and so would the sheriff. “I’m not familiar with that term.”

  Mrs. Holloway opened a cupboard to display well-stocked shelves. “Everyone in town contributed something for your pantry. You know, a pound of this and a pound of that.”

  “What a generous idea. Thank you.”

  Mrs. Amherst asked, “Do you know how to cook?”

  “My mother taught me all the skills necessary to run a household.” Actually, her former nanny had insisted she learn those things.

  Mrs. Porter mumbled, “I’ll bet she’s sad you became a doctor.”

  “Actually, she was very proud of me. Her mother, who shared that opinion, was alive to see me graduate before she passed away.”

  Hand at her throat, Mrs. Porter blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Nice that your grandmother saw you complete your training.”

  Mrs. Amherst rushed ahead. “The bedrooms are upstairs. Doctor Jones built on to the house and added a parlor and dining room at the back. We tidied up the view from the windows.”

  Shannon glided into the parlor. Although the furnishings were masculine, she could add feminine touches. “This is inviting.” She stopped to glide her fingers over the board of a regal ivory and obsidian chess set. “What magnificent pieces.”

  The sheriff looked askance. “You play chess?”

  Probably better than a country bumpkin sheriff. “I enjoy the game. Stimulates the mind at the same time the concentration required prevents dwelling on the day’s problems and events.”

  He nodded to the three guides. “Ladies, I’ll show the doctor the horse and buggy. Thank you for helping with the tour.”

  After she thanked the three women, she walked beside the sheriff. “So, the house belongs to the town but the doctor can make changes, is that correct?” He led the way from the parlor across the back garden to a carriage house. That, too, had recently been painted.

  He opened the door to a barn-like shed at the back. “I suppose. You’d have to ask our lawyer, John Gibson, the legal stuff. Far
as I know, the place and contents are yours as long as you work here.”

  “That’s a nice benefit.” Shannon leaned over a stall to stroke the nose of a bay gelding. “Hello, boy, what’s your name? I’ll bring you a treat next time I come out here. I’m sure you miss Dr. Jones, but we’ll be friends and partners now.”

  The horse nudged her as if he understood every word. Who knew? Maybe he did.

  “That’s Plato. He’s around five and won’t give you any trouble. You ever hitched a horse to a buggy?”

  “A few times.” She examined the buggy and checked the harnesses on the wall. “I can handle this.”

  “When you need the buggy, there’ll be a rush. Might need to practice getting on the road a few times.”

  “What I need is a map of the county and who lives where. If someone needs me, I want to be able to find their home.”

  “Anyone wants your help, you can follow whoever comes after you. I don’t imagine you’ll have many patients. Folks don’t have confidence in a woman doctor. No man’s going to ask you to treat him.”

  She longed to punch something—or him. “How is that different than a woman seeking advice from a male doctor? Are you really that close-minded, Sheriff?”

  He opened his mouth to speak but she didn’t pause.

  She put her hands on her hips and faced him. “Look, I’m sorry your beloved Dr. Jones died but that was not my fault. I’m a competent physician and I can treat anything he could.”

  His frown showed he didn’t agree. “Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  “I have another question. How long before the town gets snow?”

  “Mid September. This country has long winters, Dr. Callahan.”

  “I expect to become acclimated.”