Lisa Bingham - Accidental Courtship

“They know what to do.”

“But—”

“You’ll only be in the way.”

Cuz you’re a girl.

The hard set of the stranger’s jaw and the crease between his brow told her plainly enough that, even though the man wouldn’t offer the words aloud, he was thinking them. Once again, she’d been summed up in a single glance and pigeonholed as useless, simply by virtue of her sex. And that brought a starch to her spine that the avalanche had nearly knocked from her system.

She refused to let one more man tell her what to do.

“I assure you, I won’t be in the way. I’m a doctor.” She flung an accusatory finger in the direction of the hole from which she’d been tugged as unceremoniously as a turnip. “There are injured women inside.”

His eyes narrowed. “A doctor?” he murmured in disbelief.

Sumner shook herself free of his grip and pulled herself to full height. Unfortunately, she still barely reached his shoulder, but she wasn’t about to let that fact deter her. “Yes. I’m Sumner Havisham. The mining camp is expecting me. I’ve been hired to serve as their company doctor for the next five years.”

His brows rose, nearly disappearing beneath the brim of his hat.

“You’re... Sumner Havisham.”

“Yes, of course. I have a copy of the signed contract...” She automatically felt for her reticule, then sighed, resisting the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. “It’s with my things.” She waved in the direction of the train.

The stranger sighed and stared at the ground as if pained, the pad of his thumb rubbing at the crease that appeared between his brows. Then he muttered, “Give me strength,” before gesturing to a wooden sledge a few yards away. “Why don’t you wait over there, miss—”

“Dr. Havisham.”

“Dr. Havisham. As the passengers are pulled free, we’ll bring them to you.”

When she would have argued, he held up a broad hand to stop her.

“The way things are, we’ve got to tread lightly over the debris path so we don’t end up crashing through a window, or starting another avalanche. None of this is stable.”

Sumner shivered at the thought, her gaze convulsively leaping up the slopes of the mountain where an enormous gash gouged through wind-carved whiteness. Broken trees and displaced boulders gave evidence to the churning power of the forces which had already given way.

“Please, Mi—Dr. Havisham. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Although her pride still prickled at being excluded, Sumner had to concede that this was hardly the moment to prove her strength of will, especially since Willow and the other women were awaiting rescue.

“If you think that’s best.”

“Oh, yes, Dr. Havisham. I really think it’s best.”

Sumner’s eyes narrowed. The tone of the man’s voice had held an irritating mixture of condescension and vehemence.

“And you are...”

He paused. Sighed. Then momentarily lifted his hat. “Jonah Ramsey. I’m the superintendent of the Batchwell Bottoms mine.”

She’d only been in the valley for a few minutes and she’d already managed to irritate one of the top officials—a fact she could ill afford.

Sumner wasn’t foolish enough to think that the owners of the Batchwell Bottoms mine had willingly chosen a female doctor. Not when the rules of the community were so strict against the gentler sex. She’d been astounded when her letters of introduction had been answered—and even more amazed when further correspondence had led to an offer of employment.

We would be honored to offer you a five-year contract at our establishment...

Sumner had hardly been able to believe she’d been so blessed. She hadn’t just received a job; she’d been offered a contract for five years.

It hadn’t been until after she’d sent her acceptance that she’d begun to feel the first needling doubts.

Why on earth would a mining community so well-known for its stringent rules—no drinking, no cussing, no women—been willing to hire her as their doctor?

She’d tried to reassure herself that she wasn’t an actual miner but a member of the support staff. Next, she’d bolstered her inner argument by reminding herself that her professors and fellow staff at Ludlow’s Hospital for Women must have offered her a glowing recommendation. There was nothing untoward about her job or her appointment as mine doctor, despite her gender.

And then she’d remembered one salient point. Although she’d answered every question put to her by Ezra Batchwell and Phineas Bottoms, neither one had ever asked her if she were male or female.

They’d just assumed that Sumner Havisham was a man.

Even now, her body filled with the same frustration that she’d felt that day. But by then, it had been too late to retrieve the letter or clarify the offer—even if she’d wanted to do so. It shouldn’t matter whether she was male or female as long as she could do the job. It shouldn’t matter if her name were Sumner or Sally or Madame X.

Weeks later, when she’d received instructions, a sum of money for supplies and the journey and her travel arrangements, Sumner had decided to give the owners of the Batchwell Bottoms mine the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Maybe they’d be accepting of her and her skills. She would journey to Utah Territory and see what happened. True, the owners might try to force her to leave so that they could find a “more suitable male replacement.” But with the weather closing in and a signed contract in her pocket, she’d hoped she could force her hand—for a few days, a few weeks, a few months. Long enough for her to find another position somewhere in America so she wouldn’t have to return to England.

Where the men were even more unreasonable than those in the wild and woolly American territories.

She blinked, unable to keep herself from studying the man who stood in front of her. If anyone epitomized the rough and rugged men of the West, Jonah Ramsey fit the bill. He wore his hat low over his brow, and his hair exploded from below the brim in an unruly tangle of waves. His beard was full and needed a trim, and his eyes...

Those eyes could melt ice with their intensity.

And they were focused on her.

His gaze was so direct that it caused a prickling to skitter down her spine, but she ignored it. Instead, overlooking the fact that her appearance wasn’t entirely conducive to formal introductions, she held out her hand. Best to show the man at the very beginning that she considered herself his equal.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Superintendent Ramsey.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as if she were behaving untowardly. She realized that Bachelor Bottoms had a “no women” policy, which probably meant they had a “no touching” policy.

Did that include shaking her hand?

Or was Mr. Ramsey one of those incredibly stuffy gentlemen who believed that a woman shouldn’t offer introductions herself, but should wait for a male relative to do so?

If Mr. Ramsey was waiting for any kin to offer such niceties, he would wait a very long time.

He reluctantly closed her fingers in his. Her skin was icy and numb from digging through the snow, but it wasn’t so cold that it didn’t immediately absorb the warmth of his clasp. In that brief instant, she became intimately conscious of the calluses at his palms, the strength of his grip and the long, slender fingers that nearly swallowed hers whole.

Then, just as quickly, he released her and began tugging on his gloves.

“If you’ll wait over there,” he prompted.

It wasn’t a complete dismissal, but it felt awfully close. Clearly, Mr. Ramsey wasn’t pleased with her identity or her profession.

Her spine stiffened and her chin tilted infinitesimally. Ignoring the disarray of her clothing and her disheveled hair, she picked up her skirts and marched with as much dignity and decorum as she could muster. She’d been treated worse before and she supposed that she would be again.