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  Moving from Maryland

  The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge, Book 3

  Christine Sterling

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  From the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Sneak Peek

  More from Sweet Promise

  More from this Series

  More from Christine Sterling

  About the Author

  © 2019, Christine Sterling

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  Cover Design by Mallory Rock

  Editing by Carolyn Leggo and Amy Petrowich

  Proofreading by Alice Shepherd

  Sweet Promise Press

  PO Box 72

  Brighton, MI 48116

  To the women that paved the wave for future women doctors. The road was long, hard and paved with prejudice, hardship and sometimes even violence. You are the pioneers of the medical field.

  If society will not admit of woman's free development, then society must be remodeled.

  - Elizabeth Blackwell, MD

  Prologue

  WANTED: Able-bodied physician, formal schooling preferred for small town in Nevada, pop. approx. 1,000. Must have good character, temperament and be knowledgeable in surgery and healing arts. References required, include with letter. Salary includes room and board in medical building. Apply to Box D, Rattlesnake Ridge, Sierra County, Nevada, attention Mr. B. Wright.

  Chapter 1

  December 1871, Crisfield, Maryland

  Gracie Pickett pulled her coat and scarf tighter around her as she stood at the end of the pier waiting for the boats to come. The smell of the crisp winter air mingled with the scent of decaying fish that had washed up on the small shore next to the seawall.

  Her father, Charlie Pickett, was a fisherman and oyster boat captain on the Chesapeake Bay. Her three, now two, brothers worked on the boat with him, hauling in the shelled treasures from the cold water.

  It still pained Gracie that she wasn’t at home when her brother, Charlie Junior passed away. CJ, as he was called, was a healthy young man, until he wasn’t. It was late into the oyster harvest season a year ago when she got word at college that her younger brother had fallen overboard and into the frigid water. He didn’t recover, dying two weeks later of an infection in his lungs.

  CJ’s passing made Gracie more determined to complete her studies and become a doctor.

  She completed her schooling at the Quaker-supported Female Medical College of Pennsylvania near Philadelphia and graduated with honors. She was now a certified physician.

  Women doctors were still fairly new, in fact there were very few of them that had actually been college trained. She was proud to be one of those few. She was honored to follow in the footsteps of the great women physicians such as Elizabeth Blackwell, Ann Preston, and Rebecca Lee Crumpler.

  Her father didn’t understand why she wanted to be a doctor but supported her dreams anyway. Once she told him of her plans, he saved up money and sold one of his fishing boats to pay for the tuition. She was eternally grateful for her family’s support. Four long years later she was finally back home.

  Now, if she could only find employment.

  If she wanted to work in the fishing industry either in the factory or cannery, she’d have no problem finding work. Her family’s name was well known along the Bay. But very little was to be found for a woman doctor.

  She shivered waiting for the boat to come in. Looking at the watch pinned to her coat, it shouldn’t be much longer before the boats arrived.

  It was a bitterly cold day, but every day along the water in the winter was cold. The oyster season started in October and went all the way through March. Even though the harvest area was in one spot just outside of the entrance to their cove, there were still many boats fighting to take the largest hauls to market. It was a dangerous time to be on the water.

  Gracie pulled her scarf tighter. She forgot how the moist air could seep into a person’s bones. If they didn’t take precautions, a body could end up with a sickness, or even worse. Gracie didn’t want to think about that.

  Her family had been working along the Bay since before she was born. She came from a long line of boat captains that earned their living along the water. They fished for striped bass, flounder and drums during the spring and summer. In the winter it was the fresh oysters that people craved across the country.

  Crisfield was one of the few locations along the eastern seaboard that had its own cannery. The staff worked in the evenings to process that day’s catch, so it was canned at the peak of freshness.

  Gracie took the abundance of seafood for granted while she was growing up. Fresh fish was very rare at college.

  The tide was slowly coming back in and the sound of gulls could be heard in the distance. This meant that she should soon be able to see her father and brothers, along with all the other captains, trolling towards shore with their harvest onboard.

  The oyster boats finally came into view with a flock of seagulls following behind them. The angry cries of the birds echoed through the air as they danced above the boat, looking for bits to gobble up.

  The first boat passed the pier and sounded its horn as it went to a dock further down in the marina. Gracie waved to Captain Peterson and his crew. Her father’s boat came in slowly behind them. Her brother, Boone, waved and called out to her.

  “Tie us off, Gracie Rose,” he called, tossing her a rope. Her brother always addressed her by her full name.

  Gracie pulled the rope. The wind was trying to push the boat back into the water. It took all her strength to hold the rope, allowing the boat to align with the dock as her father cut the engine.

  “Did you have a good harvest?” she asked, tying the rope to the cleat along the dock as she had been taught since she was little. Her other brother, Josiah scrambled to the front of the boat to secure the bow line to the dock.

  “Well enough,” her father, Charlie, replied as he started to move the gear around the vessel. “Have you been home to see your mother yet?” He lifted one of the baskets full of oysters onto the side of the boat.

  Gracie took the basket from her father and placed it on the dock. “I stopped by to drop off my books and bags, but she wasn’t home. Millie wasn’t either.” Millie was her younger sister, and the baby of the family.

  “She mentioned something about going to see Mrs. Baker. Perhaps Millie went with her?” Josiah offered, coming over to take the next basket his father hoisted over the railing.

  “Mrs. Baker?” Gracie inquired.

  “You know,” Boone piped in. “Daphne Baker. She had a baby boy yesterday. Ma said she was going to take her dinner.”

  “Oh wond
erful!” Gracie exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I didn’t realize that, but then again I’ve missed quite a few things.” Daphne was a childhood friend; her father was also an oyster boat captain.

  “But you are home now,” her brother said, wrapping her in a hug.

  Gracie wrinkled her nose. “You stink.” She gently pushed him away.

  Josiah laughed. “Now you do too.”

  “Why else would she come down here if she didn’t expect to be wrapped up in oyster and fish guts,” Boone said, wrapping his arms around Gracie and kissing her on the forehead. “Good to have you home, sis.”

  Soon the baskets of oysters lined the deck. Gracie quickly counted them off. “Twelve bushels. Not too bad.”

  “Yes, the harvest has been good this year.” Charlie pointed to another basket filled with several large striped bass. “We have a few fish for dinner tonight. Just in time to celebrate you being home.” He climbed over the side of the boat and dropped to the deck. “We need to get the wagon and get these to the factory before we get home. Are you coming with us, or headed back to the house?”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Josiah appeared with one of the hand wagons and they loaded the first four bushels in the wagon before heading back towards the factory that sat at the end of the boatyard.

  Boone stayed with the boat watching the harvest until they came back for the other bushels. His job was to keep the birds away from snitching the oysters. The entire harvest would be flying away in a few minutes if he didn’t keep an eye on it.

  “How long are you staying, Gracie?” Charlie walked next to her as Josiah led the way across the ground covered with crushed oyster shells.

  “I haven’t found a position yet, and most hospitals are still skeptical about a woman physician, so I don’t know.” Gracie sighed and placed her hands under her arms to try to get them warm. “I forgot how cold it is here in the winter.”

  “You can’t tell me it wasn’t cold in Pennsylvania? That is further north!”

  Gracie turned her face away from the wind coming off the Bay. “We don’t have the cold air and winds like here.” Her hair was being blown loose from the pins and it flailed against her cheeks, stinging her skin as it whipped across her face. She tried fruitlessly to remove it from her eyes and mouth and eventually just gave up.

  Gracie walked the rest of the way in silence. They entered the factory through a yellow door, while Josiah disappeared around the corner with the bushels of oysters. The heat from the coal stove hit her face as they walked into the office.

  The office was small with papers piled high on every available space. There was one desk and a round woman peeked out between the piles of papers.

  “Hi, Mrs. Hanslek,” Gracie said. “I see you still haven’t caught up on your filing.”

  “Gracie!” the woman exclaimed, getting up from behind the desk. She embraced Gracie in a hug. “It is so nice to see you again. Are you back from college now?”

  Gracie gave a nod. “I just got back today. I thought I would stop by and see the boats coming in.”

  “Plus escort her father home,” Charlie said, wrapping his arm around her.

  “How long are you here for?” Mrs. Hanslek asked.

  “Well I just finished school, so until I can find a job.”

  “A woman doctor. How about that?” Mrs. Hanslek put one hand on her hip and used the other to prop herself up on one of the piles of paper. “Have you seen Doc Weston?”

  “Give her a minute to relax, Harriet,” Charlie chimed in. “She literally just got home.”

  Grace gave a little laugh. “Thank you for the suggestion, Mrs. Hanslek. I’ll stop by and see him tomorrow.”

  “You do that. If anyone can help you, he can. He knows everybody and every body.” Mrs. Hanslek laughed at her own joke and returned behind the stack of papers. “How did you do today, Charlie?”

  “Not too bad, Harriet. Just over twelve bushels.” He handed her a piece of paper with the totals on it, which she quickly scanned. “Josiah take them back to the warehouse already?”

  “One more run back to the boat and he should be done.”

  Mrs. Hanslek nodded and walked into the warehouse area with the paper in her hand. The sound of machinery could be heard when the door opened. Everything went silent again as the door closed behind Mrs. Hanslek.

  Gracie peered through the glass window in the door. There were long tables next to conveyor belts. At the table women were lined up, shucking oysters and placing the plump fruits onto ice before they were transferred to the canning line.

  Their hands were flying, each one focused on the task in front of her. She heard the office door open and a burst of cold air hit her back.

  “When did you get back, Gracie?” a voice called.

  Gracie turned around to see Captain Peterson and his son, Paul, enter the office.

  Gracie smiled. She had been friends with Paul since she sat behind him in the one-room school house. “Paul! Captain Peterson. I arrived back today. How are you doing? How is Mrs. Peterson?”

  “Ma is good,” a voice called from behind the tall captain. A short man stepped out of the shadows and looked at Gracie with a lecherous grin. “You are looking good, too, Gracie. I guess city life has been good for you.”

  Gracie suppressed a shiver and moved closer to her father. Greg Peterson was a few years older than her. He stood about the same height as Gracie. She remembered him being a portly fellow, but now he looked thin, with sunken in cheeks and his eyes were hollow.

  She had a crush on Greg when they were in school, but he didn’t seem to notice her. The look on his face and the way he licked his lips said he certainly noticed her now.

  “Greg,” Charlie said. “I guess you just got back too.”

  Greg shrugged. “Been around. Helping Pa on the boat.”

  Charlie nodded, and placed his arm around Gracie in a protective stance. Gracie squeezed him back before returning to watching the women shuck oysters until Mrs. Hanslek came back into the office.

  Mrs. Hanslek scribbled on the paper before writing something in a ledger. Gracie could make out the boat name and the totals for the day. Mrs. Hanslek handed the paper back to Charlie.

  “Mr. Moyers isn’t in town this weekend. He’ll be cutting checks on Thursday night instead of Friday if you want to stop by. Friday’s totals will be added to next week’s payment.”

  “Thanks Harriet,” Charlie gave her a wink. “You’re a gem.” He turned to Gracie. “Come on, Gracie Rose. Let’s go get those fish and see your ma and sister.”

  Gracie waved to Mrs. Hanslek and heard her greet Captain Peterson. Gracie followed her father and brother back to the boat. Boone already had the fish on a stringer and was headed their way.

  “Want to carry these?” He offered the fish to her.

  Gracie wrinkled her nose. “No. You are doing such a good job. But I can take that bucket,” she offered, pointing to a wooden bucket filled with empty thermoses and extra rags.

  Boone laughed. “No worries, I have both of them. How about making coffee when you get home? I’m frozen today.”

  Gracie smiled. “That I can do.”

  The walk to the saltbox home didn’t take long at all. The Pickett’s lived in one of the larger homes, with it being two stories, but it was still modest. It was the same house Charlie purchased for his wife before Boone was born. They raised five children between the sturdy walls.

  Gracie went into the kitchen, while her brothers went behind the house to the small shed out back. The kitchen was warm and inviting, decorated in shades of blues and yellows.

  Gracie went to light the oil lamp on the table, her fingers shaking as she tried to strike the match. A hiss filled the air and the smell of sulphur exploded as her frozen fingers finally applied enough pressure to ignite the match.

  She moved the lamp closer to the edge of the table so she could see the stove. It was a large cast iron Acorn stove with six burners.

  She reme
mbered when her pops had the stove delivered in 1865. Her mother, used to cooking over the hearth, wasn’t sure how to use it, but soon it became the centerpiece of the house providing both warmth and delicious food.

  She filled the iron kettle and placed it on the wood stove before stoking the fire. Holding out her hands, she allowed the warmth to sink into her fingers.

  Gracie took off her coat, wrinkling her nose at the smell of fish coming from the fabric. She’d ask her mother to wash it the next time she did laundry.

  Remembering that Boone asked for coffee, she grabbed the percolator and placed grounds in the bottom. Then she added an eggshell from the ones Ma had been saving on the counter. Gracie never figured out why they added eggshells to the coffee, but then again, she preferred tea.

  She sat at the table and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. Boone and Josiah entered with the cleaned fish just as she was removing the kettle from the heat.

  “Where’s Pa?” she asked.

  “He’s fixing up one of the lines that frayed today. He’ll be along shortly.”

  Boone placed the fish on the table. “I think Ma had dough rising for bread. Or at least she said she was going to.” He grabbed a cup and poured some of the dark brew. He handed the cup to Josiah and took another for himself. Taking a sip, he let out a huge ahhhh and smacked his lips. “Good coffee, sis. Warms you right up.”

  “I’ll get dinner started and you boys go get cleaned up.” She shooed them out of the kitchen. Once they left, Gracie found the bread dough in the proof box, just like Boone said. She got busy transferring the dough to a greased pan and placed it in the oven.

  Finding a jar of canned beans that Ma probably put up from the summer, she dumped them into a pan and placed it at the back of the stove to warm. She then went to prepare the fish.