Read Heaven Scent Online

Authors: SpursFanatic

Tags: #romance, #love, #drama, #mystery, #historical, #doctor, #mother, #story, #heroine, #historical romance, #boston, #texas ranger, #hero, #heaven, #scent, #1800s, #physician, #womens rights, #midwifery

Heaven Scent (3 page)

BOOK: Heaven Scent
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The Sutherlands were another of the
elite families of Boston society. Colin Sutherland passed on a year
or so ago, leaving one of the biggest shipping businesses on the
Eastern seaboard to his youngest son, Patrick.

The responsibility wore on him. Each
time she saw Patrick at church or a society ball, he looked a
little older, as though the worries of the business were slowly
killing him.

Out of all of her past suitors, Patrick
Sutherland had been the only one to pique her interest. But that
interest was short-lived when she learned he was narrow-minded like
all of the others. He wanted a wife that would stay home, manage
the household, have children, and be waiting for him in bed when he
decided to come home. A career was out of the question.

Therefore, so was Patrick.

“What is the latest on Rafe Sutherland,
Father? Is he well?”

“Yes,” he replied, the color steady in
his face. “In her post, Isabel said her son is fit. She thanks
heaven above and General Zachary Taylor for getting him to Boston
where he could get good medical care.”

Hmmm, it grew clear to her
now.

“Rafe Sutherland will be there
tonight?”

Henry cleared his throat. “Yes, yes he
will. It will be his first social event since his
return.”

So her father
was
trying his
matchmaking with the former Texas Ranger. Tarin had to admit it
would be interesting to spend an evening in the company of a
national hero, a man that had spent the last ten years of his life
amongst war, Indians, and General Zachary Taylor. Perhaps, he would
even discuss the injuries that had brought him home under special
federal escort and remained a mystery to everyone outside of the
Sutherland household.

Yes, she would attend. Even if it meant
enduring her father’s embarrassing matchmaking attempts. She
wouldn’t miss this for all of the tea buried in the bottom of the
harbor.

“I will be there, Father,” she said,
smothering a laugh at his triumphant smile. “However, since you are
not trying to match me with Rafe Sutherland, I may just wear my day
dress in an effort to save time.”

Henry moved to the edge of his seat.
“Oh no, you are not doing that to me again, daughter. Winthrop
still taunts me about whether I have the money to outfit you
properly. I cannot believe you attended that Lowell event in your
day dress.” He gave her a hard stare. “You will wear your gold
dress and that is final.”

Blast
it
. Did the man never give up? Had his
numerous attempts in the past not taught him that
she
would choose who she
would marry? If she married at all, it would happen only once she
had her medical degree. Not before. Tarin crossed her arms and gave
him a knowing smile.

“Fine, fine,” he said with a sigh. He
leaned back in his chair. “I just thought that since you are not
interested in any of the men in Boston, maybe someone different
might appeal to you. He certainly comes from good
stock.”

Tarin sighed as she planted her hands
on her hips. “I am not a cow to be bred, Father.”

“Tarin!”

“I do not care what kind
of
stock
he comes
from, his beliefs will be the same as all men – the purpose of a
woman is to stay at home, have babies, and tend to her husband’s
needs.”

“What is wrong with that?” Henry cried.
“If God had intended women to live differently, it would have been
done from the beginning of time.”

Here we go again. “Nothing is wrong
with it,” she replied smoothly, “if the woman chooses that life.
But I want more for myself. I only have one chance on this earth
and I will not be told how to live it by anyone else.”

Henry shook his head. “I do not know
where you get that stubborn spirit of yours. Your mother certainly
wasn’t like that.”

Tarin came up to his desk and gave him
a hug. “If you are looking for the source of my stubbornness,
perhaps you should take a look in the mirror.”

Henry smiled reluctantly as he patted
her back. “Get out of here. I do not want to be blamed for your
tardiness.”

Tarin smiled as she headed for the
door. She turned around and walked backwards. “If you promise not
to do any matchmaking, I’ll wear the gold brocade.”

“Mark my words, young lady,” he said.
“One day you will want my help.”

“And when that day comes, I will simply
ask.” She turned the knob behind her. “Father, please, your
word…”

“Fine,” he said, waving her away. “I
have the most beautiful daughter in Boston and she is going to end
up a spinster.”

Impishness welled up inside Tarin. She
couldn't resist teasing him. “Look on the positive side. If I were
to marry, what would you do with your time?”


Out!”

 

Chapter 2

 

“You have eyes the color of the
Caribbean.”

Rafe smiled down at the blushing
seamstress as she pinned the lapel of his jacket. She was a pretty
thing, with dark, chocolate-colored hair and a figure a man could
enjoy. Her dress was clean and dust-free, her perfume flowery and
light. The vision was so different from the women he’d known down
in the dirty, desolate areas of Texas.

Damn, it was good to be
home.

“You, sir, had better behave,” she
replied, pursing her lips. She glanced up at him through lowered
lashes. “I have a big, jealous husband.”

Standing on the other side of the
study, Patrick laughed aloud as he poured himself a whiskey. “That
she does, Rafe.”

“You’re married?” he asked, wincing as
she pricked him in the chest. His wounds were still tender, despite
the weeks since the attack. “And, to a man bigger than
I?”

“I am,” she replied, circling to lower
the jacket down Rafe’s arms, “although, his bulk is more likely
from drink than muscle.” She came around to smile at Rafe
appreciatively.

“Camille, don’t let him fool you,”
Patrick declared as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Rafe’s
done his share of drinking.”

Rafe puffed out his chest. “This is all
muscle, baby brother. Take my word for it.”

Camille laughed as she grabbed her
measuring tape off the table. “Well, we shall see, won’t we, Mr.
Sutherland? We must measure for your shirts next.”

Rafe’s mind went blank, as though a
hood had been tossed over his head. His jaw clamped.
“No.”

Patrick stilled, glass halfway to his
mouth. Rafe turned his back on Camille and strode to the window,
dismissing her without another word. He’d be damned if he’d let
anyone see his scars, especially a beautiful woman. She wouldn’t
come near him once she saw what was under his clothes.

“Can you just take his measurements
from the coat, Camille?” Patrick walked over to the sofa, picked up
Rafe’s coat and held it out to her.

“Yes, of course,” she replied in a
small voice. Flustered, Camille tossed the suit over her arm and
gathered her things.

“I appreciate you coming here on such
short notice,” Patrick added. “You will be well
compensated.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sutherland.” She
glanced at Rafe before nodding at Patrick. She eased the door
closed.

“Can we afford to ‘well compensate‘
her?” Rafe asked, removing a cigar from the box on the mantle. He
held it to his nose, savoring the heavy scent of Cuban tobacco.
Patrick shrugged. “Logically, no. But to ask her such a favor
without compensation would assure us the loss of her services in
the future.”

Rafe didn’t see the tragedy in that,
but he knew fashion was important to his family and the Brahmin.
Sitting behind the desk, he scratched a match under the desk and
pulled on the cigar as he watched Patrick rub his
forehead.

“I’ve studied the accounting books for
the last year, Patrick. You’ve done a helluva job keeping the
company afloat.”

Patrick tossed back his drink as he
sauntered over to stare out the window.

“It hasn’t been easy, Rafe. And keeping
it from Mother has been even harder.”

Rafe could see the worry etched in
Patrick’s forehead, the lines around his mouth.

“She knows something’s up,” he said,
“but with your return, nursing you back to health has kept her
distracted.”

Rafe knew that not allowing Isabel to
see his wounds had upset her. But Rafe had his pride and knew that
showing his mother the scars could only come to no good. Each time
he ran the possible scene through his mind, he saw tears and pain.
And he wanted none of that for her.

No, Rafe believed that God had given
him a second chance and he was going to make the most of the life
he had ahead of him.

“God has a strange way of finding
distractions for Mother,” Rafe said with a crooked grin.

Patrick ran his gaze over Rafe before
nodding his head. “Indeed.”

“So we have what – another nine months
worth of capital before we go under?”

“If that,” Patrick said on a sigh.
“Sutherland Shipping has to pick up more revenue fast and
Worthington is our best shot at increasing revenue quickly and
substantially. He ships often and in great quantities.”

Rafe shifted in his chair. “So is there
a reason you haven’t approached him yet?”

“I have," Patrick declared, waving a
hand in the air. "The man is waiting to see if we make it. He
doesn’t want to alienate Hunter, his current shipper, if we end up
going under. Only because of your reputation has he agreed to dine
with us tonight.”

Rafe nodded thoughtfully before rising
to get a jigger of whiskey. He didn’t know what his reputation had
to do with anything. He had just served where he was needed and
luckily Taylor had been grateful enough to declare him a national
hero. “So tell me about Worthington.”

“Big mercantile man from London,”
Patrick said, as he turned to watch Rafe at the side table. “He’s
the youngest son of an English duke - the middle son runs the
import/export in London. Handles everything from fashions to
chocolate, but mainly deals in rum, leather, and gold. He has a
store and warehouse down on Fulton, and a daughter every man in
Boston would give his right nut to possess.”

Rafe grinned as he removed the cigar
from his mouth and took a swig of his drink. “Why?”

Patrick whistled low under his breath.
“She’s unbelievably beautiful, Rafe. Smart as a whip, witty, not to
mention rich…”

“But...?”

Patrick shook his head as he stared
into the bottom of his glass. “She has an independent streak a mile
long. She’s working with a Dr. Samuel Gregory, a Yale man, on a
campaign to educate women in the field of midwifery and to remove
male physicians from the birthing process. He hopes to open the
first female medical college here. Dr. Kent and several of the
local physicians have already agreed to teach the midwifery
classes. Tarin believes that if Gregory can make this happen, the
college will open up to full medical degrees for women.”

“And…?”

“And?!" Patrick cried, his eyes huge.
"Would you want your wife diagnosing why a man can’t take a piss or
spending hours alone in his bedroom while she tries to fight off
his fever?”

Rafe couldn’t believe what he was
hearing. He pulled his head back. “Hell Patrick, out on the plains
we were grateful for any kind of medical help - from a man or
woman.”

“This isn’t the wilds of Texas, Rafe.
This is Boston, civilized society.”

“People are people, Patrick. I think
it’s damn impressive she wants to do it at all. With her noble
blood, she doesn’t have to do anything but sit back and enjoy
life.”

“Well, you’re the only man around who
feels that way.” Patrick squared his shoulders.

“Hell, if it wasn’t for Rosa and her
mother, I wouldn’t be alive today. They’ve obviously seen me in all
my naked glory – and were damned impressed, by the way,” Rafe added
with a grin around his cigar.

Patrick snorted as he moved to get
another drink.

Following his bragging
statement, Rafe felt a pang of regret. Rosa and her mother would be
the only women to ever see his scars. Of course, the crescent scar
along his hairline and the wide, jagged scar on his cheek were mere
teasers of what lay beneath. Even
he
couldn’t stand to look at himself
in the mirror - mangled, textured flesh covered him from collarbone
to waist. The raised, grotesque skin was red and blotchy in places,
purple and tight in others. Rafe would scare away any woman who
dared take a peek.

“I guess I see your point,” Patrick
said, as he went to the window and stared out again. “But those
were desperate circumstances. We have plenty of male physicians in
Boston – we don’t need women in that field.”

“Yet, a man may sit between a woman’s
legs to deliver a baby?” Rafe asked in disbelief.

Patrick turned to stare at him, his
brows furrowed. “Well… yes. That’s the way it’s done.”

BOOK: Heaven Scent
13.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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