They’d just left Almy behind, and had the entirety of the return drive before them. The early June sun felt weak and the air decidedly chilly.

“You do realize, Isabella, you owe me a story or two.”

She enjoyed, far too much, the musical quality of her name on Henry’s lips.

In the week and a half since he’d asked her to use his given name, he’d shown respect and deference, consistently addressing her as Dr. Pattison or Doctor when in the company of patients.

But when they were alone, he used her given name with relish.

Most definitely not something a good man like Henry would do if he believed them to be business acquaintances and nothing more.

“A story? What would you like to hear? A fairy tale?”

“I told you everything about me. You know all my secrets.” His eyes sparkled with keen interest. “It’s time you do the same.”

He’d maintained composure when speaking of heartbreak. Could she, as well?

“I’ll begin.” He cleared his throat. “I decided to pursue dentistry . . .”

She laughed at his silliness. “Do you want my story, or not?”

“I do. I want to know everything about you.”

Her heart thumped at his flirtation. Was he in earnest? “Then you mustn’t tease.”

He traced a solemn X over his heart with one fingertip. A promise made.

The wagon rolled onward, the team’s pace easy on the dry road.

“My father is a physician in Los Angeles. I grew up watching him receive patients in his medical rooms in our home. Like him, I was drawn to healing. We talked of medicine, his greatest joys and greatest heartaches. He believed I’d make a superb doctor’s wife.”

He listened, interest showing in a nod here and there.

“I decided I wanted to be a dentist while still in school. I’d suffered from a toothache, and through the experience with a dentist near our home, discovered my passion.”

“How did your parents react?”

“With surprise. And objection. They’d seen my curiosity in Father’s work as acceptable, for every mother benefits from basic medical knowledge.” The expressions her parents had worn—disbelief mixed with a good portion of doubt—had haunted her since. “Father was always more indulgent than a father should be.”

“Said who?”

“Mother.”

“Ah.”

“Indulgent, he granted permission for me to attend dental college and paid every penny. He purchased my equipment, paid my room and board.”

“Generous.”

She nodded, reflecting on that difficult time. “He insisted I consider my decision with care. He warned that by choosing to study dentistry, I chose to relinquish marriage.”

Henry’s expression conveyed understanding and compassion.

“Father warned the best men wouldn’t be looking for wives among their classmates.” He’d been right. “He believed dentistry could never provide the same fulfillment as marriage and motherhood.”

That conversation had been etched upon her memory in vibrant color. She’d sat on the patient’s side of his desk. Father had pushed his spectacles high on his forehead. She’d pleated her burgundy wool skirt with her fingers. Pleated and smoothed, pleated and smoothed.

Because of the memories branded into that skirt, she’d never worn the favorite burgundy wool again. Longing and determination had fortified her then, preparing her to fight for what she wanted.

“Was he right? Or have you found fulfillment in your career?” Henry’s questions resonated with kind support. And encouragement. Henry truly understood the joy she’d found in dentistry.

“Indeed. I have.”

“Your parents preferred you wed?”

“Naturally. My whole childhood, every privilege prepared me for my life as someone’s wife and someone’s mother. Quality education. Cooking lessons. Musical training.”

“Yet they deferred to your wishes.”

“Yes.” If only she’d retained their affection.

“Brothers? Sisters?”

“One sister.” Perfect in every way. “Florence is two and one-half years younger. She and her banker husband, Mr. Dudley Ketton, have three sons and one daughter.”

He needn’t know she hadn’t seen the children for several years. She’d returned home one Christmas to nurture family relationships. But she’d been unable to withstand their constant pity.

Or mother’s tearful entreaties. Please, darling. Come home. It’s not too late for marriage. You’ll find a good man, an upstanding member of the community, once you leave dentistry behind.

As if any other life path were a travesty.

“How old are they?”

“The children? Nine, seven, six, and three.” Rough estimates.

“They must adore you.”

“Truthfully? No.”

Her confession hung between them.

She’d come this far. Why not purge her heart? If anyone might understand, Henry would. He knew how much she needed to work in her chosen field.

“Through school, and every year afterward, I spent the holidays with family. Mother wept and pleaded with me to withdraw from school, allow her to introduce suitable marriage candidates.” Pain still burned, hot and deep. “She believes my foolishness prevented me from marriage.”

“I’m sorry.” He settled his hand on her back, like he might with a child in need of comfort. But his soothing didn’t feel patronizing. His touch felt . . . right. So very right, and beyond wonderful.

“Florence and I grew apart. She loves her life and cannot understand why I discarded the privileges and blessings of our sex to invade a man’s world.”

“Common belief. But commonality doesn’t make it right.” He rubbed one more circle upon her back, then eased away. “Your brother-in-law agrees?”

“He dislikes my independence and believes my desire to earn wages is unnatural. He forbade me to influence his children.”

“Narrow-minded fool.”

Henry’s quick reply, condemning Dudley, evoked laughter. “That he is.”

The wagon wheels turned, the river rushed, and Isabella tipped her face to the sunlight. She might not have family, but she had this beautiful, wild corner of Wyoming Territory, free of coal soot and crowded streets, where she wasn’t expected to dine every Sunday with displeased family members.

“When you turn quiet, I think you’re keeping parts of the story to yourself.” He gave a gentle nudge. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that I love Wyoming and Evanston, the wide, clear skies. And before that, remembering one last uncomfortable visit at home, after graduation. Around that dining room table, with every member of my family, I was the only one celebrating.

“To everyone else, my graduation signaled an end to my self-indulgence. I’d lost too much time. I needed to set aside distractions and focus on regaining all I’d lost.” An ache throbbed behind her breastbone.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing would change if I remained in Los Angeles, so I packed my trunks and left. I lived for a time in San Francisco, then Salt Lake City.”

“Sounds lonely.” If anyone understood, Henry did.

“I found patients wherever I went, but never a place to belong.”

She’d already told him about the difficulty in finding someone—anyone—who’d welcome her into their practice or share a building. Those had been discouraging days.

“That all changed when I read a newspaper article in The Salt Lake Tribune about Wyoming Territory’s stance on women’s rights. I read of Evanston’s female medical doctor and female attorney and their well-attended leap-year ball in ’88. I wrote to Naomi and Sophia, and before long, the three of us were far more than acquaintances.

“Time passed, then Naomi and Sophia invited me to visit Evanston. Before I left Salt Lake City, they’d suggested I plan a long visit to discover if Evanston and Wyoming Territory could be the place for me.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Indeed. I found pleasure in my one-way train ticket. I brought everything I owned in the UP baggage car.”

He shared in her happiness, and her heart filled.

“Here, I’ve found a place to belong. I have the dearest of friends in Sophia and Naomi—women who, like me, have gone against the grain of society’s wishes and make real and lasting contributions to those around them.”

He nodded, obviously in agreement.

“Here, I can be myself. Here, those who should love me most don’t shame me with tears and lectures and chastisement. No one asks me to come to my senses and marry like I’m supposed to, before I break my mother’s heart.”

Henry tucked the reins in one hand and grasped her hand with the other.

Driving along in the sunshine of a glorious Monday morning, returning from another purposeful day in Almy beside the man she adored, her hand in his, almost made her believe Evanston had one more immense gift for her.

She closed her eyes, enjoying Henry’s touch.

Almost like courting.

“Isabella.” One more squeeze. “You are a fine dentist. You’re skilled. Talented. Have you noticed the good you’ve done in Almy?”

She met the certainty in his handsome brown eyes. “Yes.”

“Good. Believe me when I tell you that your value is not diminished because you chose a different path than what someone else wants for your life.”

She turned his statement over and over. Weighing it, considering.

“It’s the truth. You are astonishing. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

Such a simple thing, holding hands. Gloriously, wonderfully simple.

Astonishing, he’d said.

Talented.

Valued.

His words gave wings to her long-held determination to embrace her chosen path and ignore the naysayers.

“You fill a unique role, in Almy and in Evanston. You impact the health and wellbeing of many who won’t allow a male dentist near. Who else would see to scared children? Their mothers, sensitive ladies, one and all, trust you.”

Yes, she knew this.

He saw through every protective layer to her soul. He saw her for precisely who she was.

And pronounced her work worthy.

He deemed her worthy.

The magnitude of his gift settled upon her. How could she not love him?

Like wildflowers in warm summer sunshine, love for him multiplied, covering the hillsides with glorious color.

Where had this man been through the seasons of her life? Where, when she’d battled loneliness so acute she thought she’d die from it? What providential miracle had brought him into her life?

“If more men were like you, Henry Merritt, the world would be a better place.”

He looked deeply into her eyes as he tugged on the reins. “Whoa.”

Seconds passed as the team halted. He set the brake.

Her grin blossomed as he wrapped the reins about the brake handle.

She squeezed his hand between hers, loving this simple pleasure.

His grin replied. He nipped one finger of his driving glove, then two. He tugged the glove free and dropped it onto his lap.

He twisted on the seat, his long thigh pressed against hers. He brushed the backs of his knuckles softly against her cheek.

The friction of his barely there touch sent shivers racing over her skin.

He intended to kiss her!

Seconds passed. His pupils dilated. He took in her cheeks, her jaw, and settled on her mouth.

Sudden awareness of their mingling breaths, fast and shallow, rushed through her.

His knuckles gave way to the pads of his fingers. He traced the line of her jaw.

His reverent touch made her want to drift her eyes closed. She wanted to touch him, to feel the heat of his hand against hers, slide her thumb over his freshly shaved jaw.

Before she realized it, she’d touched his chin. With her riding glove firmly in place.

She groaned in frustration.

He chuckled. Beautiful teeth. White, straight, attractive.

With him, she’d shared her deepest heartaches. Rather than diminish her pain, he’d understood. She wanted his kiss.

How her heart craved him!

Slowly, slowly enough she could turn away—never!—he dipped his head.

Her heart pounded, anticipating the perfect moment when his lips touched hers.

His eyes drifted shut in that final moment. Electricity tingled along her nerves as his hand slipped behind her neck to cradle her head.

Heat speared through her middle at the first settling of his mouth upon hers.

Perfect.

His reverent kiss spoke volumes.

Far too soon, he pulled away.

She mewled in disappointment.

He chuckled, tipped his head a little more, and kissed her again. The heady rush of pleasure swept through her.

Now she understood all the fuss about kissing.

Especially when a kiss crowned the culminating moment of falling in love.

Everything had changed between them. Everything.

The kiss had sparked miraculous hope and thrilling possibilities, the beginning and the end. The beginning of the crowning relationship of her life. The end of doubts, wondering, and a hundred what-ifs.

She would’ve asked for another kiss, or simply taken it . . .

But he pressed his forehead to hers—or tried to. His hat brim collided with hers. Ribbons tugged beneath her chin as her hat slid askew.

She chuckled, and he laughed aloud. The masculine rumble deep in his chest was one of her favorite things about him.

With trembling fingers, she righted her bonnet and retied the ribbons.

“I forgot myself.” Had she heard such transcendent joy in him? Ever?

How wonderful! She’d been the cause of his forgetfulness. “Forget yourself again, please.”

Love had won, in the end, for Sophia and Chadwick, and sanctified the arranged union between Joe and Naomi.

Henry Merritt loved her in return!

She’d forever recall this first Monday of June, when their love story started a new chapter.

He tugged the brim of his hat into place and eased his hand from hers. “I would, but a rider’s approaching.” He released the brake and flicked the reins against the team’s rumps. The horses pulled the wagon into motion.

She blinked, the world expanding from the pinpoint that encompassed only two, and noted the flowing Bear River and bridge not a hundred yards ahead.

As he’d said, a rider approached on a roan, visible through the riverbank foliage. “’Lo there!”

She knew him now. The Reverend Drescher, a German-accented preacher at one of the Evanston churches.

Henry waved in greeting.

“Dr. Pattison, Dr. Merritt—thank God I came across you this close to town.”

“What’s the problem?” Henry asked.

“My wife. Her toothache’s bad enough she says she’d rather be in the travail of childbirth than tolerate the misery another moment.”