Healing A Wandering Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

New York City in 1873 was a bustling place with lots of buildings. People often crammed into small spaces to live, and they were all frightened of cholera. The better-off part of society had rules of its own. Women were usually accompanied, but if out alone or with friends, they wore long, dark dresses with long sleeves that came up high on the neck. They were not expected to take part in what was considered men’s work.

For a beautiful twenty-year-old woman with a quick brain, this was not easy to accept. Indigo Seaton was slender, with long, blonde hair. Her father was a well-respected doctor, and many a man would have liked to come courting. The fact that she was so eye-catching sometimes annoyed Indigo, because men tended to treat her as the little woman, but she had a brain as sharp as a needle.

Her mother had died when she was much younger, and there had been no female influence in her life. Carroll Seaton, her father, had fought with the unionists and lost his leg from a bullet. He managed to pursue his career afterwards by wearing a very uncomfortable wooden leg. Indigo adored him. She followed his work with avid interest and because he felt guilty about being away at the war, he indulged her whims. Indigo went with him to visit clinics and to work in hospitals and watched as he administered to his patients. Her brain soaked it all up like a sponge. She wanted to be a doctor.

Indigo spent a lot of time making copious notes of what she had observed in homes and the hospital. Her father was an innovator and people flocked for his advice. He had saved many a person when they’d thought all was lost. In fact, he was quite famous.

However, the idea of young ladies doing that sort of work was not even imagined. Carroll Seaton wanted his daughter to leave New York because there were growing cases of cholera and he knew she would want to help. It was dangerous and he loved her dearly.

“Oh, Hettie,” Indigo said to her best friend. “Why can’t women help people get better like men do?”

“Because they won’t allow it,” Hettie said wisely. “Men say what happens and they are not about to let you interfere.”

“But it is so unfair,” Indigo cried out. “I could save people’s lives. I know how to do it.”

“Indigo, you have to be more devious. You have to pretend to be what everyone wants and find another way to get what you want.” Hettie laughed. “And have a bit of a good time as you do it. Nothing wrong with pretty clothes and enjoying attention.”

“How could I do that, though? You mean, do good work and they would let me be there without grumbling about it?” Indigo laughed. “You are so clever, Hettie. I think those ginger curls of yours have some sort of magic.”

“You have the brain, Indigo, not me. Use it, for heaven’s sake. Stop asking men to let you join them and just do it anyway.”

“The young men in New York are so useless,” Indigo observed with exasperation. “With their tight pantaloons, they think they look like men but they just seem so so pathetic.”

Hettie laughed and agreed. The girls said their goodbyes and Indigo went to help her stepmother in the house. The conversation had cheered Indigo up and she did start to think of other ways to live the life she wanted.

Julia was an easy woman to like and Indigo was happy that her father had met someone to share his life. He had struggled to manage before he’d met Julia at church, and her warm and sensible personality had made him human again.

The doctor came home and settled at the table. He looked tired and Julia gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Bad day?” she asked.

“Another cholera field just opened up on the east side. It is not good?”

“Oh, dear,” Indigo said. “Can I help?” Carroll Seaton looked at his beautiful daughter and shook his head. He knew he had to be firm this time when he told her that she was not to try and help.

“It puts you in great danger, and I have not struggled all these years for you to die of cholera. A woman should marry, have children, and stay safe.”

Indigo argued back about how he had seen her work alongside him. She tried all of the things she could think of, but her dad was firmer than he had ever been in her life. He lost his temper.

Indigo sat back in surprise. Her dad had always listened to her before, but this time he was unshakeable. She knew, in her heart, that it was because he loved her so much.

“Married women,” Hettie had observed, “have a lot more freedom than single ones.”

Which was how Indigo Seaton ended up on the great railroad, traveling to meet a rancher with a view to marriage. Salt Lake City was a long way from New York, but the reality of being on the transcontinental railroad and steaming through the countryside was eye-opening and fascinating. She was enjoying the ride and taking in how the mighty metal railroad was transforming the land. It took a week to travel to Utah. Indigo knew she was catching the eye of both men and women.

She was tall and slender and was wearing her long hair tied in a crown of plaits around the top of her head. She was dressed in quality traveling clothes and enjoyed chatting with the other people on the train. Most of them were glad to pass the time and talked about families and why they were on the railroad.

There was one man who looked grumpy and uncommunicative, holding handfuls of sheets that looked like correspondence. His long dark hair flopped over his face and he frequently ran a hand through it to push it out of his eyes. His clothes were good quality but a bit crumpled, as if he had no time to think about appearance. Despite this, he was a good-looking man and although he wore a frock coat like most men, he did not sport the tight pantaloons and his cravat was a tasteful shade of dark red. However, he looked like a man who had problems. He glanced up from his papers and caught her looking at him. They both looked away and he went back to his reading. When he raised his gaze again, she was still watching. Indigo was embarrassed that she had been caught for the second time and took out a book to read.

As they neared Salt Lake City, the landscape changed to a very dry and different-colored world. Indigo stopped reading to look at the passing scenery and was fascinated. The layers of the land were changing from cream to pink and to shades of blue. It seemed to have nothing growing and rose in a series of small mountains that were all made of the same colored stone. There were lakes that were enormous with the same sandy-looking ground running right to the water’s edge, but it still looked barren and harsh.

“It is different, is it not?” the grumpy man asked. She turned in surprise and agreed that she had never seen anything quite like it before. “Almost there,” he said and went back to his papers. They were shuffled together and put into a leather folder. Other folk in the coach started to collect together their things and she thought that she would do the same.

They steamed into a rather large depot and slowed to a halt. The place was almost as busy as New York, but most of the people looked a little bit less refined, somehow. A gentleman offered to hand down her trunk and other bags, and she stood with them, looking around.

The busy workers in overalls eventually stopped climbing all over the huge engine and moved away. The travelers thinned out and met friends. Eventually, the station yard was pretty deserted and Indigo bit her lip and started to worry. Wallace Pickard had written and explained what he looked like and what he would be wearing. He had said that he would meet the train and have a buggy ready to take her to the ranch, but there was no man anywhere to be seen that could possibly be him.

Indigo paced up and down for about an hour. She saw people look at her with curiosity and, in the end, had to try and find out about this man. She approached an elderly lady who was sitting on a wooden seat but the woman looked frightened to speak to her. She said that she was to meet Wallace Pickard and had the woman heard of him. The old lady waved her away and pointed to a man who might help her.

The man stopped and looked at her. “Wallace Pickard?”

She nodded and said he was supposed to meet her.

“He’s dead,” the man said flatly and walked quickly away.

The shock rooted Indigo to the spot for a few stunned seconds and panic started to rise in her chest. She took deep breaths and told herself that she could cope with anything. It was a mantra she used all the time.

“No matter what comes up, you can decide how to deal with it and do it.” She went through the familiar sentence in her head and nodded to herself.

“I have money. I can stay in an hotel.” Once the decision was made, Indigo took action immediately. She found a porter who located a trolley to load her bags. He was a youngish man and rather liked the look of this blonde young woman.

“Where is the nearest hotel?” she asked him, and he pointed outside of the depot.

“The Station Hotel belongs to the railroad.”

“Is it decent?” she asked him.

He grinned. “Too expensive for me, ma’am, but I hear they are very good. I know a girl works in the kitchen and she says the food is excellent.”

“Thank you,” she answered, giving him a smile. “Lead the way.”

He tugged at the peak of the little cap he wore and hauled the trolley to the hotel entrance. She gave him a rather large tip and another smile. He was over the moon and hurried away, tucking the dollar bills into his pocket.

The hotel found someone to take her bags and she moved into a rather large and airy room with views across the town rather than the railroad. Beyond the buildings, she caught another glance at the rolling hills of colored stone. Then, she sank onto the bed and did some thinking.

So, it seems my husband-to-be has passed away , she thought. In some ways, that was a bit of a relief. It was quite a big decision to marry someone that you had never met. Perhaps fate has saved me from a bad decision, she pondered. What to do next?

Indigo lay back on the bed and realized that she was completely free—nobody knew her situation but herself.

“I would like to know how he died and what happened to him,” she said out loud. “My dad has been generous with an allowance.” She sat up and then stood to pace back and forth. “Eat, rest, and tomorrow, make some enquiries. Then I can decide for myself exactly what I will do with my life.”

It was quite satisfying to be able to say that out loud, and she tidied herself up and went to dine in the rather grand dining room. The food was, as the young man had said, excellent, and Indigo relaxed with a book in her bedroom afterwards, glad to let sleep take over.

Tomorrow is another day , she thought as she closed her eyes.

Chapter 2

In the morning, Indigo left her things in the hotel and walked about the city where she had been left alone. She had the distinct feeling that folk did not like strangers in their midst. Some of the looks were of admiration from men, but others were suspicious. She asked the odd question about where to find the sheriff and the hospital and people seemed very unwilling to be near her. They appeared to shrink away and when she said she had arrived from New York, they almost ran away. Everyone was living in fear of catching cholera and they seemed to think it was coming from New York.

The sheriff was a more sensible man and listened to her story. He told her that Wallace Pickard was a good man and it was a pity that he’d caught the disease.

“I think the undertaker will probably be able to tell you more than me. He dealt with the funeral and there was no family to tell him what they wanted.”

“Thank you,” Indigo said. “I will stay at the hotel until I find out what happened.”

As Indigo left the office, she was passed by a man going in. He lifted his black hat to her and said good morning. She said good morning back, but hurried on down the steps to the street. While the man was quite handsome, he also carried an air of menace that was quite noticeable even at a glance. He wore black clothes like a gambler. They were clean and tidy but crisscrossed with ammunition belts, and he carried two guns at the hip that looked very well worn. Indigo rushed away, although she was aware that the man was standing still and watching her move away. It caused a bit of a shiver down her spine.

She followed the sheriff’s directions and came to the house and workshop of the undertaker. His wife listened to her story and although she was a little reluctant to invite Indigo inside, she did to be polite and left her in the living room. The undertaker came in and offered a hand to shake. He was businesslike and friendly, and she was reassured for the first time since arriving in Salt Lake City.

He’d known Wallace Pickard and was sad that the man had died.

“I did what I could for his funeral and the minister took a service, although there was nobody there except one or two people who had been friendly with the rancher.”

“Do you know how he died and who looked after him?” she queried. He nodded and said it was Doctor Gregory Hammond.

“He would tell you about the treatment. He is a good doctor and would have done everything he could for the man.”

He gave her directions to find Gregory Hammond and showed her to the door. Indigo thanked him and found the doctor’s house and office, but it was further than she thought and she was out of breath by the time she reached the place. She leaned against the gate until she could walk in and look in control of herself. Then she straightened up, tidied her dress and coat, and walked decisively into the waiting room of the doctor.

As she stepped inside, she was knocked sideways by a man who didn’t see her coming toward him. He felt the bump as she fell against the wall and he said sorry.

Indigo looked into the eyes of the grumpy man on the train. This morning he was looking clean, tidy, and seemed to be in a hurry.

“I am looking for Doctor Gregory Hammond,” she said snappily and turned away from him into the waiting room. She closed the door behind her and looked around to see if he had anyone that could tell him she was there.

The door she had closed reopened and the man came back inside.

“Apologies,” he said. “I was thinking about something else.”

“Apology accepted,” she replied. “How do I find this doctor?”

He held out a hand. “Gregory Hammond, at your service,” he told her. There was a second of stunned silence as she took in the information before she smiled and shook his hand.

“I was supposed to meet Wallace Pickard, but now I find out he has died. It was quite a shock and I would like to find out how he died and what happened.”

“Come and sit in my surgery,” he said and opened the other door into a room with a desk and some chairs. There was a bed at one side with a clean sheet over it and supplies of water pumped directly into the room. There were the usual bottles and drawers that would contain medicines and his doctor’s bag was beside the desk. Indigo took a seat and waited.

There was not a lot to say and he summed up what she wanted to know. Wallace Pickard had caught cholera and Hammond had traveled out to the ranch to treat him, but the man had died.

“It is a scourge, this cholera. I can only do what I can and, too often, it is not enough.”

“Thank you,” Indigo said. “I have some experience with treating cholera in New York.”

“Really?” Hammond asked and she saw his interest was taken immediately. “What is the situation there?”

She talked about going out to help in homes and hospitals and had his close and undivided attention. Indigo was on her favorite subject and gave him a lot of insight into what the doctors were doing in New York. He sat back in his seat and listened with the occasional question.

“You have had quite a lot of experience,” he remarked. “That is most useful. Thank you. I read everything that I can find on the subject, but it is good to have it relayed firsthand. What will you do now that Mister Pickard has passed away?”

Gregory Hammond did not realize that talking to this beautiful woman had made him relax and become a more approachable person. If he had been asked, he would have said that it was because he was talking about his passionate interest.

Indigo had relaxed in her seat as well and noticed that he had become much more human when he was talking about the same things that interested her. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I am not sure about what to do next,” she explained. “I’ve always wanted to help cure people and make them feel better. I am free to decide to stay or go, and I am undecided.”

Gregory Hammond surprised Indigo with his next remark, and he surprised himself, as well.

“If you are willing to help, I would appreciate some help with my patients. Maybe it would give you some time to make up your mind.”

Indigo stared at the man and he continued on, telling her that it was fine if he had spoken out of turn and she would rather not be involved.

“No, no, no,” she cried when she came out of the sudden shock of the offer. “I would love to help. It is what I like to do. Tell me when you would need me to join you.”

She was rewarded with a smile that transformed his handsome but serious face into a vision that would make any girl’s heart flutter. Indigo felt that flutter and waited, hoping that he could not tell how excited she was from her expression. Hettie had been right. She should offer to help and play the part of the little woman. It was her route into the world that she wanted to enter.

“Can you start immediately?” he asked her. “I am most dreadfully busy. Even if you can tell me what is happening in New York as we go along, it would help.”

“Oh, my Lord,” she said. “Yes, of course. Nothing is preventing me from doing that.” They stood up together and he offered a hand.

“We can work out a way of working as we go along. I really need to see patients.” He picked up his bag and they went outside to where a horse was standing in the shafts of a small carriage.

“I really cannot walk to all of the calls and it is difficult to carry my things on horseback.” He gave her a quick sideways look and she nodded. Indigo realized that this man was like her: someone who liked to take action and get things done.

The first call was to an elderly lady who needed dressings on wounds and Indigo passed him what he needed before he asked for it. There were three more calls after that, but nothing that was out of the ordinary. By the time they reached the fifth one, he understood that she knew exactly what she was doing and asked her to treat the patient. It was a straightforward case and she handled it with her usual competence.

Outside the house, Gregory asked if she was willing to continue as an assistant and he named a weekly salary that she would be paid. He told her he had been very impressed by her careful and competent skills and added that often it was good to have a woman around when the patient was a woman. He had a lot of work and would welcome the help.

Indigo quashed the thought that she would be a womanly assistant to the doctor. Hettie had been right to tell her to go about getting what she wanted in other ways. This was the chance she wanted to practice medicine and there was no question of just being there because she was Carroll Seaton’s daughter. She had avoided telling Hammond who her father was because she did not want to use his reputation, and she did not want anyone to get in touch with him and tell him what had happened. It suited Indigo very well to have the freedom to choose what she wanted to do.

“I would love to be your assistant, Doctor Hammond. Thank you. If you are not happy with me after a month, we can just part company.”

“I am sure that will not happen,” he answered. She told him she would stay at the hotel for a week and if she was happy in Salt Lake City, she would look for a small house to rent.

He drove the carriage back to his residence and left the horse in a small paddock behind the house.

“We need something to eat before we tackle the cholera,” he said.

“I would like to wash properly before I eat anything,” she told him and he showed her to the bathroom in his house.

“I think we should go and eat at the hotel that is nearby. Buying you lunch is the least I can do.”

When Indigo came out refreshed and tidied, she found another youngish man in the living room talking to the doctor.

Indigo stopped in surprise, as did the man talking to Gregory.

“Gregory Hammond, what have you been keeping from me?” he asked with a smile and walked forward with hand outstretched to lift her fingers to his lips. Indigo smiled, because the man really was very charming. He was about her own height, maybe slightly taller, with curly light brown hair and twinkling blue eyes.

“This,” Hammond said without a smile, although it was obvious the two were friends, “is Indigo Seaton from New York City. She is my assistant doctor.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Indigo said, and the man replied that the pleasure was all his.

“This man is insufferable and will drive you crazy.” Indigo laughed, and Hammond said they were going for lunch and would Damon like to come. He introduced his friend as Damon Barton.

“He is the son of Judge Barton, who rules our courts with a rod of iron.”

“But I don’t think you have followed him in a career in the law.” Indigo smiled. Damon shook his head and offered her an arm. As they left, he told her that he was in real estate and made much more money than he would have done in the law.

“I found my parents a wonderful house. You must come and meet them. This man will have you working and living like a hermit.”

Gregory Hammond joined in the battle of wits. The two men clearly had a relationship that involved a lot of mock arguments and some serious discussions, as well. Over the meal, Indigo found that she was joining in and the two men accepted her input as an equal. The three of them enjoyed the meal immensely, and Hammond was reluctantly saying they should get to work when he grabbed his friend’s sleeve and ducked his head behind Indigo.

Chapter 3

“Get rid of them,” he hissed at Damon, who looked around and laughed. He pushed back his chair and strode over to where two young women were hovering at the doorway. He gallantly offered each of them an arm and ushered them away from the dining room.

“Have they gone?” Gregory asked from below the table edge, and Indigo confirmed that they had. He stood up, then grabbed her and pulled her out of another doorway that led to another exit. They stood outside of the side door of the hotel and Damon came striding around the corner with a grin on his face.

“Who on Earth were they?” Indigo asked.

“Ophelia and Evelyn Asher. Their father is very wealthy—they have money to spend but no brains in their heads,” Damon told her.

“They can be dangerous, though,” Hammond said. “They gossip and say bad things about people.”

“And they just love our good doctor here.” Damon drew out the word ‘love’ and laughed at his friend. “Feel my pulse, Doctor Hammond. I feel like fainting, Doctor Hammond. Please help me, Doctor Hammond,” Damon imitated the two girls.

“They will be surprised when the doctor in the surgery is a woman,” Hammond said with satisfaction. “Speaking of which, we have to work, I am afraid, Indigo.”

“My mother requests your company at dinner,” Damon said. “I am including your new assistant in that invitation.”

“Oh, I do not want to intrude,” Indigo protested. Damon took her fingers and raised them to his lips.

“My mother would be furious if she knew I had met you and not issued the invitation.” He raised a hand in a farewell salute and strode away.

“Work,” Hammond said, and they walked back to collect what he needed from the surgery and set off to visit those with cholera.

As Indigo expected, the cases they visited were all in crowded tenements, places that were not particularly clean and where lots of people lived in small spaces.

The smell in the houses where someone had cholera was horrible and both Gregory and Indigo covered their mouths and noses with bandanas. Indigo noted with approval that he carried his own water for washing hands between clients and they discarded stained aprons after each visit. They both scrubbed their hands thoroughly and threw away the water.

“It must have been unusual for someone on a ranch to contract this cholera,” Indigo remarked as they left one place and headed for another.

“You mean Mister Pickard?” he asked and she nodded. “He had stayed with friends in the city, I gather, and they were close to where an outbreak occurred. It is definitely carried by dirty water. Most people do not seem to realize that they are making it worse by not keeping the place clean. Even when I impress upon them the need to wash hands and throw away the water, they do not do it.”

“They drink the water, as well,” Indigo added. “If they would only boil it first, it would be so much better.”

“There is such a lot of research going on all over the world, but news travels slowly. Gradually, we will learn how to deal with it,” Hammond said and they went into the last of the calls.

Mrs. German was very ill and she had turned that awful blue color that the patients acquired when the disease was well advanced.

“I have an assistant today, Mrs. German,” the doctor told the woman. “How are you feeling?”

“Very weak, my son,” his patient told him. “My mouth is so dry.”

“Have you any water that has been boiled?” Indigo asked but the woman shook her head.

Indigo found some water and put it on the stove to boil. “When that boils and then cools down, you can drink some. It will do you good. But it has to be boiled to kill the badness.”

“I’ll take some more blood out,” Hammond said, and Indigo watched with a feeling of unease as he did as he had done at the other calls—taking blood from the veins of the patient to purge the disease from the system.

“I think taking more blood will make her more blue and dried out,” Indigo ventured, and the doctor gave her a quick look of annoyance. Indigo pinched gently at the woman’s skin and it stayed standing up in a little point. “Lack of water,” she said, despite Hammond’s disapproval.

The woman’s daughter came in and Indigo told her to let her mother have as much water to drink as she would like, as long as it was boiled.

“Boiled,” she repeated. “If you don’t boil it, she will die.”

“Die anyway,” the younger woman said, looking at her mother with sadness.

“Miss Seaton is correct,” Hammond told the daughter. “Give her plenty of cooled, boiled water and we will see what she is like by tomorrow.”

The boiled water had cooled by that time and Indigo rested the woman’s head on her hand and held the cup with the other. Mrs. German said that she felt much better already.

“Boiled,” Indigo told the daughter firmly. She smiled and relented. “In New York, the posh people are all boiling the water before they use it. You will be up to date.” She was rewarded with the shadow of a smile and a nod. Mrs. German asked for another drink and the daughter went for the cup. The doctor and his assistant let themselves out.

When they reached the carriage, Hammond gave her another look of irritation and said that they should not argue in front of the patients. It was the first time they had been in disagreement and she knew he was right.

It took a lot of self-discipline for Indigo Seaton to swallow her pride and back down. “I’m sorry. I never thought. It just came out. It is so annoying when people do not listen.”

“Yes,” he said, “exactly the way I am feeling now.” But it was said with the ghost of a smile and she smiled back.

“I am truly sorry. If we argue, it will be where no one else can hear. You are in charge, and I should keep my mouth closed.”

He clicked to the horse and they set off for the surgery.

“But,” he said to her as they rode, “I am waiting to hear about the water that has to be boiled and the lack of moisture. Tell me what you have seen.”

For the rest of the journey, she told him about how giving patients a lot of clean, boiled water to drink seemed to aid recovery.

“I don’t know why. It’s just what we observed over the last few months. Water brings some elasticity back to the skin and the patient feels better. The blueness goes away as the more water is drunk.”

She avoided saying that her father had decided it was working when she remembered that she was keeping that to herself. Gregory Hammond was too far down his train of thought to notice there was anything amiss—clearly already thinking about how to use this new information to improve life for the sick.

“We will see how she is tomorrow and if she has improved, we will try it with other people. Thank you, Indigo.”

“I apologize again for speaking out of turn,” she replied as they turned the horse into the corral.

In the back kitchen of the house, Hammond had a large tub of water on a stove, and he took all of the soiled things and poked them in the tub with a wooden stick. An older woman heard him arrive and then stopped short when she saw he had company.

“Come in, Ella. Come in. This is Indigo Seaton, she’s my new assistant. She has been treating patients in New York City and is most useful.” He turned to Indigo and introduced Ella as his housekeeper.

“I do not let her do these washes when I have been to patients. I do them myself and it keeps the main kitchen clean,” he added.

Indigo smiled at her. “Happy to meet you, Ella. I can help with these washes, as well.”

“Shall I make food for both of you?” Ella enquired.

“We are invited to the Bartons’,” he replied with a smile. “Leave me something cold for later and you can go home early. Indigo is booked into the hotel for the time being.”

“Oh, heavens,” Indigo said. “I need to go there to change.”

“Let me go and change first and then I can drive you to the hotel and wait as you do the same,” Hammond told her and Indigo said that she would see to the boiling water as she waited. Ella busied herself in the kitchen and then peeked around the door to say that she was leaving.

“Tomorrow evening, I will make a meal for both of you,” she said.

Indigo was about to try and lift the tub of boiling water onto the ground when the doctor came downstairs. They took a handle each and lowered the tub to the ground.

“I can wring it out tomorrow,” she said, and she noticed that he looked very smart with his black frock coat and a spotlessly white cravat. The gold watch and chain had been removed form his working clothes and added to the vest he was wearing. His long hair was tamed for the moment, but he was already running a hand through it. He saw her looking at him.

“What is wrong? Is there something I have missed?” He glanced down at his clothes and she smiled.

“I’m just glad that you’re not wearing those ridiculous tight pantaloons like those idiots in New York. It is such a silly fashion.” They locked the house and put the horse back in the carriage shafts.

“Thank you for the ride,” she added. “It was a long walk that I made this morning. It seems like years ago since I came to the surgery.”

“And I knocked you against the wall,” he added.

“What a day. Found out about Mister Pickard, took on a new job and visited all of those patients. Had a meal at the hotel, and I’m now going to meet the judge and his wife.”

“You will like them. Geraldine is charming and the judge is fierce in court but a softie at home.”

“How long have you and Damon been friends?” she asked.

“Since school days. We were both away to different colleges but both came back home to work.”

He pulled up at the hotel and they went inside together. They passed the same man in dark clothes she had seen at the sheriff’s office, and it ran another shiver up her spine. The man touched the brim of his hat to her and smiled.

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“Healing A Wandering Heart” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Indigo is a beautiful young girl who has spent most of her life learning how to heal ill people, with the dream of becoming a doctor like her father. However, her world gets shuttered when cholera breaks out and she is forced to leave immediately to become a mail order bride in the West. Her life will take an unfortunate turn once again, though, when she finds out that her husband-to-be is dead. While she decides to keep it a secret and find out more about the dubious circumstances of his tragic death, fate brings her before doctor Gregory whose face seems rather familiar…Their interest in medicine soon brings them closer together, and she finds herself utterly charmed. Will her secret life keep her from following her dreams?

Gregory is a respected young doctor who has dedicated his life in treating patients and saving lives. When he meets Indigo he is impressed by her knowledge of the cholera treatment and can’t hold back and asks her to join his overwhelming journey to find the cure. Unable to find out where Indigo’s ideas are coming from, Gregory is still skeptical about her methods but he soon finds himself surprisingly stricken with her wit and unique beauty. Will he dare to trust her, even when things seem to be falling apart?

When Gregory and Indigo cross paths, their magical connection brings them immediately closer. A shared passion to discover a lifesaving treatment will force them to unfold their complicated feelings. When untold secrets threaten to drive them apart forever, can they defy their perilous fate for the sake of a love that was meant to be?

“Healing A Wandering Heart” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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