With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel Read Online Free

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    “Of course.” Jason Nordling looked at her as if she were slightly addled. Perhaps she was, to believe she could convince him of the error of his opinions.
    “But practicing medicine is not.”
    “That is what I said.”
    He’d taken the bait. Elizabeth nodded, as if she agreed with him. When his eyes widened slightly, she continued. “Then if a child should fall and scrape his knee, his mother would be wrong to cleanse the wound and bandage it.”
    Jason Nordling’s eyes flashed with apparent disgust. “Of course not. That’s what mothers do.”
    Elizabeth gave him her sweetest smile. “If that is true, I don’t understand your logic, counselor. Surely you understand that one aspect of practicing medicine is cleansing and bandaging wounds. You said it was all right for a mother to do that, and yet you distinctly told me that women should not practice medicine.”
    Lines bracketed his mouth as he frowned. “You’re twisting my words.”
    “I don’t believe so. What I believe is that your logic is twisted. Women have always been nurturers and healers. Why shouldn’t they be dignified with the title ‘doctor’? Furthermore, the traditional roles you seem to espouse have no place on the frontier. Women are homesteaders; they defend themselves and their families. Why, Esther Morris was even a justice of the peace. Why shouldn’t women be doctors?”
    The man was angry. The rigid line of his neck and the scowl that marred his handsome face were testimony to that. So was the tone of his voice when he spoke. “It’s one thing to care for a child, but no man would rely on a lady doctor. I hate to disillusion you, Dr. Harding”—Jason Nordling emphasized her title—“but your practice is doomed. My advice to you is to terminate your lease on this building and head back East or wherever it is you came from.”
    Elizabeth took a deep breath, wanting nothing more thanto vent her fury on him, to wipe that arrogant smirk from his face.
    “That, Mr. Nordling, is advice I have no intention of heeding. Furthermore, if I did want legal counsel, I assure you that you’d be the last person I’d consult.”
    The barb hit its target, for his face flushed ever so slightly. “At least we agree on one thing. You’d be the last person I’d want as a client.” Placing his hat back on his head, he turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Good day, Doctor.”

 2 
     
    J ason tossed his hat onto his desk, then shook his head. There was no point in destroying a perfectly good Stetson simply because he was angry. He retrieved the hat and placed it on the hat rack, frowning at himself. Once again he’d been wrong. When he’d left the courthouse, he hadn’t thought the day could worsen, but it had. The moment he’d set foot inside Dr. Harding’s office, it had gone downhill faster than a runaway stagecoach. He’d expected to spend a few minutes in casual conversation. Instead, he’d been blindsided. Someone should have warned him that his next-door neighbor was a woman. Not just a woman but a beautiful one. Not just a beautiful woman but one with a tongue as sharp as a snake’s bite. E. M. Harding, MD, was as different from the eager young man Jason had expected to meet as the Wyoming prairie was from the fertile farmlands that surrounded his childhood home in Michigan. From the moment he’d walked through her door . . .
    Thoughts of doors reminded Jason of his own. Thoughhe doubted he’d have any clients this afternoon, he turned the sign in his front window from “closed” to “open.” No fancy “the doctor is in” signs for him. His was basic, unlike the beautiful doctor’s. Jason frowned again, remembering his first sight of her. If he hadn’t been so distressed by the aftermath of the trial, he might have noticed that the approaching footsteps were those of a woman, but he’d been so caught up in his own misery that he had paid no attention to either the softer steps or the swish