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Betty Bolte's Official Author Website
Mystic Owl Publishing
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Category:
Historical Fiction
Publisher: Mystic Owl Publishing
Type: Fiction
Pages: 270
Copyright: Oct 8, 2020
ISBN-13: 9781735374888
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
Can a midwife/healer find a way to work with the new doctor in 1782 Charles Town, South Carolina, without losing either her reputation or her heart?
In 1782, the fight for independence becomes personal in the port city Charles Town, South Carolina.
When everything falls apart, how will she ever pull herself back together?
For years, Samantha McAlester has kept a secret, daring escapade from friends and family, an act that marked her physically and emotionally. Her grief and pain from the past collides with her present world falling apart one piece at a time as the British besiegement of Charles Town continues. Her friend’s gunshot wound is infected and a new doctor in town disputes her herbal simples. When her loyalist parents are forced to flee town, the state threatens to claim her home and medicinal garden. Without her garden, how will she continue to help her patients and support herself?
Dr. Trent Cunningham is intent on bringing modern techniques and methods to his hometown. When he learns his friend insists the healer and midwife should help treat his infection, Trent is appalled but reluctantly accepts the situation. For now. But when time and again Samantha’s methods fail, he steps in to assist only to find himself in danger of falling in love with the temptress.
While trying to save their friend’s life, how can Trent work with Samantha without losing his mind and his heart?
Excerpt
“I must say, I hope we can relax and enjoy the festivities.” Samantha McAlester tried but failed to release the tension building between her shoulders. As night descended upon the garden, she cringed as barks of laughter interspersed the hum of the party guests’ conversation, increasing in volume along with the flow of wine and ales. Before long, Trent would arrive, and then what would she do? How could she tolerate his presence after his disdain the last time?
“I find it hard to fathom the danger you and Amy faced last week.” Emily Sullivan tugged her shawl around her shoulders to ward off the late November chill. She swiveled to look at Samantha, her long skirts rustling with the movement. “If Benjamin hadn’t caught up with you, and then Walter hadn’t stepped in to sacrifice his own life to save all of us, I don’t know what we’d have done.”
“That’s all in the past, Em. Do not dwell on the matter.” The horrifying sound of gun shots around the manor house surely would echo in her mind in a similar manner as to other shots and shouts she’d experienced over the past several years. Walter had vowed to die defending his home, and he kept his word. Emily’s cousin, Evelyn, had lost her husband but gained her freedom from his overbearing nature. “No good can come from reliving that awful day. Let us close the book on those events.”
Emily shrugged and let her gaze drift over the garden. “You’re probably right, but it’s hard to ignore the sobs from poor Evelyn up in your spare room. Besides, planning a double wedding with such sadness hanging in the air might be considered disrespectful. What do you think?”
“I think you and Amy have the right to marry your betrotheds. And moreover, this town needs the happy event after the terror and uncertainty we’ve endured under the British occupation.” Standing beneath the peaked roof of the white-washed gazebo, which was draped in dormant climbing rose vines, Samantha hesitated to follow two of her closest friends as they made their way toward the cluster of guests.
Emily’s white teeth flashed as she chuckled. “I never thought I could be as happy as I am in preparing to marry Frank.”
“The idea of holding the wedding at the end of the holidays is brilliant.” Samantha couldn’t prevent a smile from easing onto her lips. “Everyone will already be in a festive mood and gathered in town to be with family and friends.”
Emily bobbed her head and then indicated the pair moving away from them. “They appear to be as besotted with each other as Frank and I.”
Amy Abernathy and Benjamin Hanson ambled away from her, arm in arm down the crushed seashell and pea gravel path toward tables laden with a variety of meats and sweets. So much had happened over the past year, month, even week, she couldn’t imagine what more awaited in the near future as the fight for America’s independence from British rule finally ended in victory. One thing remained certain: all the dueling and fighting, the anxiety and terror, her friends had endured since the beginning of the occupation had been relegated to the past. As the Britons prepared to evacuate, she and her compatriots could all look to the future and plan for a better world. Mostly, in the event. Her heart sunk at the thought of Trent’s imminent arrival and his disdain of her methods.
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