The Widows of Braxton County Read Free

ribbon of road stretching before them. Joe’s life had been so different from hers. While her friends had had parents and siblings, all she’d had were her grandparents. She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. None of that mattered now. Finally, she belonged to a family with roots stretching back to the 1870s. Her child would have a heritage that he could be proud of.
    The scene passing outside the car window caught her attention as Joe slowed his speed. They were entering a small town whose skyline was dominated by grain elevators. This must be Dutton. She watched eagerly while they traveled down the main drag, noting the small library, the post office, City Hall with one police cruiser parked in front, and finally the shops—many of which held large “for sale” signs in their front windows. Only a couple of the businesses appeared to have any customers. One was a store with the words Krause Hardware written in big letters across the front of the building.
    She turned excitedly to Joe. “Does your family own that, too?”
    “No,” he replied in a terse voice.
    Confused, Kate looked back at the store they’d already passed. “But I thought— It’s the same last name.”
    “I guess I should’ve explained.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “The owner is a distant cousin, but his branch of the family has never claimed mine.” He gave her a quick look. “Their prices are too high, and we never do business there. If we need anything, we go to Flint Rapids.”
    “Oh—well . . .” her voice trailed away as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
    Joe’s grip on the wheel eased. “It’s an old feud and has nothing to do with us.” He grinned at her. “You’re going to be too busy raising our child and I’m too busy farming to worry about ancient history.” With a nod of his head, he motioned toward one of the buildings. “And speaking of children . . . that’s Dr. Adams’s office. He’s just a GP, but he’s been delivering babies around these parts for years. I want you to make an appointment with him and get started on your prenatal care as soon as possible.”
    Kate grimaced. “I don’t like doctors.”
    “I know, sweetheart,” he replied gently, “but you haven’t seen one yet and we want to make sure everything’s okay, don’t we?”
    “Of course, but I’d rather use a midwife,” she answered stiffly.
    “Kate, I imagine the closest midwife is in Flint Rapids and I want someone in Dutton. Dr. Adams will be fine.”
    “I’m not going to let him pump me full of synthetic substances,” she shot back, not hiding the stubborn tone in her voice. “I’m sticking with my organic vitamins.”
    He sighed. “I understand your love of all things natural, but you’ll need to do what the doctor thinks is best.”
    “Like my mother did?”
    “Oh, sweetie,” Joe said, reaching out and clasping her hand. “It must’ve been hard losing your mother when you were only a teenager, but your mother’s doctor was a quack.”
    “A quack who caused her death.” Her lips settled in a bitter line. “He wouldn’t listen to her . . . dismissed her complaints as hormonal,” she replied, making quotes in the air. “If he had paid attention to her symptoms, they might have caught the cancer in time.”
    “And he paid the price, didn’t he? You received a nice settlement.”
    “You mean my grandparents received a settlement, and it didn’t make up for losing my mom.”
    He released her hand. “Kate, I’m sorry about what happened to your mom, but it’s in the past and you can’t let it affect our future,” he said, his tone short. “Your health and that of the baby are important. I don’t want a midwife handling your care.”
    Kate rubbed her hand across her forehead. “But I don’t trust doctors.”
    “You trust me, don’t you?”
    “Of course.”
    “Then trust me to make the right decision for you.”
    She let her hand fall to her lap and studied his profile once again. It