SAVING MARIETTA :
1
JOURNEY TO FREEDOM
JOURNEY TO FREEDOM
JOY E. HELD
JOY E. HELD is an author, educator, book coach, yoga teacher, and founder/CEO of My WriteDay subscription box for writers. She is a member of the Authors Guild and Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. She teaches creative writing online for Southern New Hampshire University, lives in West Virginia with her husband, and enjoys journaling, yoga, meditation, and herb gardening. Connect with the author at JoyEHeld.com
SAVING MARIETTA: JOURNEY TO FREEDOM
Molly Hilliard’s passion is medicine, but the patriarchy in 1796 Baltimore will have nothing of it and cast her out of medical school. Determined to be more than an herbal healer or mid-wife, she strikes out for The Northwest Territory for the freedom to practice medicine in Marietta, but she needs a guide and a guard to get her down the Ohio River. The Greeneville Treaty of 1795 liberated Romney Applewood and his younger sister after ten years as captives of native tribes in the wilderness of The Northwest Territory. He is dedicated to taking his sister to a specialist in Boston he hopes can help her learn to speak again. But when the lady doctor literally falls into his arms, he admires her self-less determination to save people from disease and can’t resist the feelings she stirs within him, but when his sister is taken hostage again, the direction of his life journey changes forever.
SAVING MARIETTA :
JOY E. HELD
Book 1 Includes A Reading Group Guide and Additional Reading
Joy E. Held
Publisher Page
an imprint of Headline Books
Terra Alta, WV
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom Book 1 by Joy E. Held copyright ©2026 Joy E. Held All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. The geographical places mentioned in this work are real. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineBooks.com mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN 13: 9781958914922 Library of Congress Control Number: 2025950990
P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A
To Barbara Jean Miller—my steadfast mentor and friend who knows a lot about birds.
Prologue May 1785 Western Kentucky frontier Daylight splayed its yellow-orange fingers at the edge of the western Kentucky horizon as the Applewoods stepped out of the cabin. Joseph carried an axe, a saw, and a musket. A powder horn hung from his belt. His wife Nancy followed, rake and hoe in hand. A linen cloth was tied around her waist in such a way as to hold the day’s seeds. She stopped and turned to the open cabin door where her children stood sleepy-eyed and watching. “Remember to wash out the breakfast bowls, Romney, and you two keep to the yard where we can see you,” she said. Her son nodded and yawned as his little sister Sarah Jane shadowed him in the doorway. Framed by the stacks of crudecut logs and mud, Nancy could hardly see them as everything in sight was about the same color. Drab brown and dirty gray. Everything but for the beautiful sunrise. This was the only moment of the day she ever really enjoyed out here among the tall trees and endless fields of grass. After the birth of their daughter, the freedom, opportunity, and wildness called to her husband. The Virginia Commonwealth’s taxes and crowded townships compelled him to uproot the family and move west. Nancy left behind her rewarding business of fashioning clothing for fine ladies, but she didn’t stop sewing. 1
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
She made clothes for her family, linens for the house, and a doll for her baby girl, Sarah Jane. Any time Nancy complained about the loneliness, her husband reminded her that it had been only a few months. “Have patience,” Joseph told her nightly as they lay on the straw mattress on the floor. Maybe after the crops took hold and supplies had built up she’d feel better about being in this isolation called Kentucky. Although there were bright blue skies, lush green forests, and waving grasslands as far as the eye could see, it was barren of people. Nancy had loved having friends and neighbors close to home in Virginia. People to talk to, the market to visit, and the business she had built as a seamstress fed her soul and made her content. There was no one here except her family for miles and miles, and that’s why Joseph Applewood liked it. He didn’t need people as much as she did. Not only was she lonely, but she also worried every second of every day and night. Worried about where their next meal would come from. Worried about the cold and the damp. Worried about their health. And she worried constantly about Indians. *** Eleven-year-old Romney was accustomed to his parents working in the field daily. He was big enough to help with the farm work, but he watched Sarah Jane and did the house chores instead. She toddled along behind him while he refilled the water in the cabin and collected kindling. At midday, the family usually sat together on tree stumps near the edge of the garden and shared biscuits. Today, however, his parents didn’t stop trenching and seeding because the morning glow had succumbed to a mass of gray clouds. They needed the rain, but they also needed to get the seed in the ground. Joseph 2
Joy E. Held
and Nancy worked through supper hoping to accomplish the whole day’s planting before the heavens opened up. After chores, the children played their favorite game. Romney pretended to chase Sarah Jane around the base of a giant maple tree whose wide roots spread out from the tree like bark-covered tentacles. It was part of the game to leapfrog over the gnarly roots, and four-year-old Sarah Jane was always ready for a nap after this activity. When Romney playfully snatched her doll and ran around the tree, Sarah Jane did an awkward about-face and started after him. Her chubby, baby girl legs stumbled. She fell and wailed, as children will do. Her cries pierced the air, and Nancy Applewood’s head jerked up from planting seeds. She straightened her back and squinted her eyes, not at the children, but at a figure lurking near the cabin at the edge of the dense forest. “Indians!” As soon as he heard his mother scream, Romney grabbed Sarah Jane and ran for the cabin. An arrow swished through the air next to him, and he turned in time to see his father in the field swinging up his musket. The arrow landed in the center of Joseph’s chest, and he fell on top of the newly plowed rows without getting a shot off. Nancy Applewood hurried toward her children, skirts clutched high and her head down low. Just as Romney was about to cross the threshold, an Indian grabbed him and his sister. His stomach lurched as his nose and mouth were covered by a large, grimy hand that smelled like dirt and sweat. A second warrior snatched Sarah Jane out of his arms. “No!” his mother screamed, reaching for her babies. The red man holding his sister shoved Nancy onto her backside. Romney looked to the field where one of the raiders straddled his father’s body and sawed Joseph’s scalp from his head. Nancy scrambled to her feet and dove for Sarah Jane. His mother was clubbed on the side of the head by the blunt end of a tomahawk. She lay motionless on the ground, a stream of red wiggling away from 3
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
her battered skull. Foul tasting bile rose in Romney’s throat as he and Sarah Jane were dragged toward the forest. The boy struggled in his captor’s arms as fear engulfed his brain. At the edge of the woods, they stopped and a red man forcibly twisted Romney’s head around to watch the looting and burning of his family’s cabin. He tried to turn away from the carnage, but the Indian grabbed Romney’s hair and forced him to watch as his whole world disappeared in the fire and smoke. At the sight of his mother, eyes wide open and head spilling blood, tears streamed down his cheeks and anger seethed in his young heart. Romney briefly wondered what it felt like to die. Surely, they were going to kill him and his sister next. But that didn’t happen. They ran through the woods for over an hour, then stopped and set up a crude camp. They tied the children together with a rope around their ankles. Sarah Jane buried her face in Romney’s belly, and he wrapped a protective arm around her. Someone brought them water in a hollowed-out gourd. He helped Sarah Jane drink, then he drank the rest. They promptly fell asleep on the ground as night ate up the forest. Early the next morning, Romney woke with a start as something jabbed his ribs. Sarah Jane wasn’t beside him. He saw her sitting on a horse in front of an Indian who was leaving camp. He jumped up to follow, but the rope around his ankle pulled him down. He was tied to a tree. The red men laughed. “Bring her back,” Romney shouted. “Sarah Jane!” His sister turned and looked at him from around the body of her captor, fear showing in her beautiful, sky-blue eyes. “Where’s her doll?” Romney demanded. An Indian pointed toward those leaving. At least she had her doll. At least she had a small measure of comfort in the doll her mother had made for her. When the riders disappeared from view, Romney waited, his hands twitching to punch something. With Sarah Jane gone, he figured they would kill him. Instead, they untied him, gave him a 4
Joy E. Held
little food and water, then helped him up onto his father’s horse that had been taken during the raid. He and the seven Delaware Indians who had burned his home and killed his parents rode through the forest in the opposite direction of the warriors who took Sarah Jane. He would learn later that she had been taken by the Shawnee. He fought back tears by silently vowing to do whatever necessary to find his sister and avenge the murders of his parents. Knowing he would have to stay alive in order to fulfill such a pledge.
5
Part One: Dr. Molly Hilliard
6
Chapter One Baltimore, Maryland March 1796 Dearest Molly, Your family misses you and hopes this letter finds you well. You would find the northwest frontier a wondrous place. Marietta on the Ohio River is a lovely town full of the possibilities and promises we sought upon leaving Baltimore. Our sadness that you are not alongside our explorations grows daily. We would be a complete family, if you were with us. It isn’t a grand or easy picnic in this untamed place, but the feeling of carving something new out of this wilderness is exhilarating. Your little sister Marie can’t be kept indoors regardless of weather, which causes her mother consternation. She is constantly taking the young beauty—she looks as you did at the same age—up and down one of two excuses for Marietta’s streets. Although there is plenty still to build in this town, there is no shortage of pioneers willing to work at it. It invigorates me to be among the men opening the path to other parts of the western lands, but I believe this is my final destination. I need go no further to find adventure and freedom to operate my affairs. I am satisfied, Marie is thriving, and your stepmother Emily has declared she will venture no further. So, you see, 7
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
sweet child of mine, all we lack to complete the Hilliard clan is our eldest daughter. If only she could detach herself from the world of medicine and city woes to join us! I also write to tell you that I had left money with Dr. West to cover the costs of your medical lessons, equipment, room, and board. I have written him with instructions to release anything remaining to you to be used at your discretion. After all, you are a mature woman now. Twenty-one is positively aged in some minds. My eyes are weary and the taper is reduced by too much to allow me sufficient light to continue. With love and prayers and the hope that you will join us soon, Your loving Papa Marietta, Northwest Territory Her Papa’s letter, delivered today, was the first news of her family’s safe arrival in Marietta. The Hilliards had left Baltimore eighteen months ago, and the letter had taken six months to arrive. A testament to the unreliability of the frontier postal system. Molly laid the letter on the wooden writing desk and gazed at her Papa’s sweeping, careful script practiced in his work as a shopkeeper and wondered about her family. Were they safe? Were they healthy? Were they prospering? She looked through the mottled glass windowpane at the clouds stretching across the blue sky and hoped that all was well in The Northwest Territory where her family had settled. She leaned back in the chair and surveyed the dresser and comfortable bed, all supplied by her benefactor’s generosity, or so she had thought. After the letter from Papa, she understood now that money had been left for Dr. West to provide for her needs. She had leapt at the chance to study with the doctor, which also meant living in his house. However, there could be no accusations of impropriety since Dr. West also supported Lucy, his maiden aunt, housekeeper, and cook, who lived with him as well. 8
Joy E. Held
Molly glared at the letter and tapped an impatient rhythm with her index finger on the lines her Papa had written about money. Why hadn’t her mentor, or her Papa for that matter, informed her about this financial arrangement? Suddenly her life was a confusing array of deceit by the people she trusted the most. This new fact concerned her in another way. Draped over her shoulders at this moment there was a fine, woolen shawl given to her by Dr. West. Last October, six months ago now, while they were cleaning up in the clinic, the doctor had surprised her with the gift. He made it appear to be a gift, but now she didn’t see it that way. “I thought you might appreciate this to chase away the evening chill.” He held the folded garment out for her to take. Aunt Lucy stopped sweeping and turned to watch Molly unfold the fabric. “It’s a wrap. I thought it was a blanket.” She opened the shawl and swirled it over her shoulders. “It’s very cozy. Thank you, Doctor West, but you didn’t have to do this.” He glanced at Lucy who excused herself muttering about dusting the study. “I care for you, Molly. In fact, I believe we would make an excellent team in medicine and in life.” The morning sun shone through the front window of the patient room and cast a soft warmth all around them. She looked at Dr. West while her fingers caressed the soft shawl. “This will certainly come in handy on cool days.” She hoped changing the subject would imply her disinterest in the idea of teaming up with the doctor for life. She was sure he meant marriage. “Molly, it’s important to me for you know my feelings for you.” Molly feared his next words. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had been a good mentor to her. You have done so much for me, but that doesn’t mean I have to marry you, she remembered thinking. 9
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
“I respect you as a professional, a teacher, and my mentor,” she said, looking away from the longing showing in his eyes. “I’ve asked you many times to address me as Andrew.” Molly nodded. “I cherish you as my friend, too, because when no one else would listen, you understood my devotion to healing and doing everything possible to save people from pain and illness. I’m truly grateful but I love the medical arts above all else.” The fallen look on his face indicated that she had misunderstood things, perhaps from the beginning. All this time she had been the dutiful student unaware that her teacher was in love with her. “Without doubt, you’re to thank for my finding my life’s passion and purpose,” she replied softly. Hopefully, he would drop the subject. Instead, he grasped her hands saying, “I want you to think of me as more than your friend.” She gently pulled away and returned to dusting the apothecary supply shelves, breathing a sigh of relief when Andrew left the room without another word. After the shawl incident, Dr. West took his meals alone in his study for three days. His Aunt chastised him for “crying over spilt milk,” and he appeared to return to his normal self, which was professional and respectful. Molly hoped that he realized they were best as professional partners without romance tangling up their lives. As she traced her fingertip over her Papa’s letter, a tap on the door interrupted her. “Come in,” she said. Dr. West stepped confidently into her bedroom as usual. She had never asked him not to impose on her by coming into her room. She had always thought she was here by his good graces. Today, however, it unsettled her because she now understood she was a renter in his house who was entitled to privacy. At least he knocked. “Time for supper?” she asked. “Papa’s letter distracted me. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” 10
Joy E. Held
“I, too, was engaged in reading your Papa’s letter to me which also arrived today.” Dr. West looked beyond Molly to the window as he cleared his throat. “We have a matter of money to discuss now that you know of the arrangement between me and your father. He writes that he has requested you join them in Marietta and that I’m to give you the remaining money he left with me.” He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “Do you want to leave?” Molly’s tongue slipped between her lips, prolonging the uncomfortable silence but giving her time to carefully consider her words. “I’m not decided. I’m still absorbing the news that he left money with you to pay for my needs.” She paused to calm the flutter knocking behind her breastbone like a thousand tiny hammers on a thousand tiny nail heads. “Of course, he did. Paul offered me the money, but I didn’t use any of it. It has been my honor and privilege training you. You’ve been great help to my practice. I told Paul I didn’t need the money, but he insisted, so I put the funds in the bank. Every penny is in an account earmarked entirely for you.” Molly turned in her chair and picked at the threads of the shawl Dr. West had given her. A spark of indignation threatened her calm. “When were you going to tell me this?” Molly asked, not hiding her betrayal. “All this time I believed I was indebted to you. That’s why I cooked and cleaned and….” Her voice trailed off. Dr. West’s hands were up, palms spread, and facing her as if in defeat. “I didn’t intentionally keep anything from you. It never seemed important to tell you about a monetary discussion between gentlemen.” He pulled a folded paper from inside his coat. “Here is my letter from Paul. Read for yourself and see that there were no plans to keep you in the dark about money.” His eyes softened. “I meant to tell you soon.” At that moment, the front door opened downstairs, signaling the arrival of a patient. Duty called. Molly took the paper from him and placed both letters in her vanity drawer. She stood and 11
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
walked past Dr. West to the dimly lit hallway. He followed her to the clinic where John Rex, a local farmer waited complaining of back pain. Molly observed as Dr. West examined John Rex. “It’s lumbago, John, and the red spots are a rash. Have you been working in weeds lately?” Dr. West asked. “Had a calf caught in a briar patch, and it was a battle cuttin’ through to get to her. Ain’t they just scratches?” John Rex asked. “Whatever you got into caused a reaction on your skin. We’ve got a salve for the rash and a different one for the lumbago.” Dr. West picked up the farmer’s shirt and handed it to him. “Miss Hilliard will apply the first treatments for you.” His tone was brusque and professional, as it always was in the presence of a patient. “John will need the sweet oil with tincture of opium for the lumbago rubbed into the lower back and Seneca oil with mullein leaves for the rash.” Dr. West stepped aside, giving Molly space to walk to the supply shelf. He tucked his fingers into the slight pockets of his waistcoat and looked at his patient as Molly applied the ointments. “You should probably drink strong sassafras tea at least twice a day, John, to help clean out your blood. Or we could do a bleed, if it doesn’t get any better in a few days.” “I ain’t got time for a bleedin’, Doc, but I’ll try these concoctions.” John Rex leaned forward as Molly applied the salve. “Ooo-wee, that’s strong stuff,” he exclaimed. “Oughta cure something with a sting like that.” The smell of the pungent ointment caused Molly to wince as she applied it with a square of linen. She was careful not to get the potent stuff on her fingers. “It’s the salve on the raw skin. The sting goes away quickly,” the doctor explained. “It appears you’ve been scratching it.” “Mind if we settle up in a week or two, Doc? I’m short on cash.” 12
Joy E. Held
“Of course,” Dr. West replied trying not to sound disappointed. He was accustomed to receiving goods instead of cash for services although it didn’t help his business. “That blackberry jam your wife sent in last fall is all gone. A couple more jars, and we’ll be even. If there’s any left, that is. Lord knows, all it takes is one taste and that jam disappears quickly.” Dr. West averted his gaze from Rex to Molly. “We done quite a bit of canning last fall before the weather hit,” John Rex continued. Thought we’d sell some to the settlers leaving this spring for the Northwest.” John went on to say that he’d be back in town soon with the preserves. Molly capped the containers. “Here you are, Mr. Rex. These should help things improve.” Dr. West left the patient room as Molly busied herself tidying up, and Mr. Rex put his shirt back on. In that moment, Molly had an idea. The door was open, so she kept her voice low, not wanting the doctor to hear her. “Mr. Rex?” “Yes, miss?” “I have family in the Northwest Territory, and I’m thinking of joining them. How do I get on with a company taking settlers to the frontier?” Mr. Rex sighed. “It’s not an easy trip, I’ll tell ya that.” He tucked in his shirt then shrugged into his jacket. “I’d still like to know.” “The Ohio Company on Beaver Street. They organize wagon trains to Pittsburgh in Pennsylvanie. Then you get another transport on your own from there down the Ohio River. But I’m warnin’ ya, it’s an Injun-filled trip with plenty to be worried about.” “I wouldn’t be travelling alone, of course. As you said, many settlers are going west from Baltimore. Surely there is safety in numbers.” 13
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
“The numbers just mean more for them heathens to scalp, if you ask me,” John Rex replied. He went to the open door to where Dr. West waited. “The Ohio Company will fix ya right up.” He thanked the doctor, promised to return with the jam, and left. Molly walked through the foyer on her way to the kitchen without making eye contact, but the twinge in Dr. West’s voice stopped her. “Are you leaving me?” “It’s time for me to go. Papa’s letter begged me to join them.” “I thought we had agreed to open a new clinic together and see what else happens.” Pools glinted in Andrew’s brown eyes and threatened her resolve. “I know you say you don’t have any feelings for me now,” he continued shakily, “but if you give it some time, you’ll see what a great team we are.” “I’m sorry.” She paused to let her words sink in. When he didn’t reply, she turned away. “I’m worried about my family. I need to see for myself how they’re doing.” She took a step toward the kitchen then hesitated. “Perhaps I’ll return to Baltimore someday, and we can work together, but I’ve made up my mind for now.” “I don’t want any harm to come to you,” he said. “You heard what John said. The papers are full of accounts about raids and capture of family members who are never seen or heard of again. I couldn’t bear something like that happening to you.” He paused and suddenly his hands were on her shoulders. “After you’ve had time to read my letter from your father, we should talk.” He squeezed her shoulders and added, “Perhaps we could go west together.” Molly closed her eyes. In a few words, Andrew had voiced two of her greatest fears. The first was being captured by Indians, and the second was someone or something getting in the way of her practicing medicine on her own. 14
Joy E. Held
“I’ll read Papa’s letter,” she said, stepping out of his grasp. “Why don’t you write to your Papa? I need to reply as well, and we could post them together,” Dr. West suggested. “While we’re waiting on his response, I was going to tell you about a building near the harbor with two apartments above that we could move our practice—” “It’s not our practice,” she interrupted. Before he could reply, she walked into the kitchen, tears burning the corners of her eyes. Alone in her room after clearing away the dinner dishes, she retrieved the letter Dr. West had given her. After the usual cordialities, Paul Hilliard expressed his appreciation to the doctor for all he had done for Molly. He noted that if the money left for Molly’s care had been exhausted, to send a letter, and he would reimburse the doctor. Business was doing well. He expressed his wishes for Andrew’s health and success, then explained his desires for Molly’s future. Her eyes widened as she continued reading—A good doctor is a plus in any community. Marietta has good medical persons, but the outlying areas could use a physic or two even. Have you considered bringing your practice to the frontier? I can think of no better companion than our Molly to help you bring good medicine to this wild, wonderful land. Her Papa had not only left her ignorant about the money, but he was playing matchmaker. No wonder Andrew was so insistent. He had received her Papa’s blessings and encouragement. Without her being even so much as asked.
15
CHAPTER TWO She wrote a letter to her father even though she fully intended to leave Baltimore. She would set up her own medical practice on the frontier. As her father had noted, they needed trained doctors and her being a woman wouldn’t matter to them because doctors were few and far between on the frontier. Early the next morning, Molly stood in line at The Ohio Company office with a crowd of other people waiting to speak to a bleary-eyed clerk. The OC not only sold passages to people but shipped goods and mail to The Northwest Territory. People leaned over desks talking to clerks about payments, the number of trunks allowed, and how many cows and pigs could come along on the trip. “No cow and no pig, Mister Rutherford. Mules, horses, and oxen are the only animals allowed.” He cleared his throat. “And dogs. Can’t stop them from tagging along.” “But my family is seven people! How am I supposed to feed so many without a cow?” “You can buy livestock once you arrive in Pittsburgh or the Territory,” the stone-faced employee answered as if he had repeated this information a thousand times already this morning. Molly thought about the words she had written to her father. Dear Papa, Your letter finally arrived! I can join you soon. What is your house like? Have you encountered any Indians? I miss you so. Dr. 16
Joy E. Held
West is a fine teacher, and I’m feeling like I can handle almost anything a body brings me, but one can never tell. My love to Emily and Marie, and I hope you are as strong and wise as always. Please send me good tidings of your health and wealth soon. Your loving daughter, Molly. As she waited to send her letter, the words of the pioneers filled the small room. A nearby conversation caught her attention. She tilted her head and eavesdropped with interest. “This note says Doctor Smith has declined to accompany us to Marietta. His wife is with child, and he will not leave her alone in Baltimore.” “This group will have to travel without medical personnel, and we’ll send someone to Marietta later if we can find a willing doctor.” The two men didn’t sound happy with this option. Molly folded the letter and placed it in her reticule. Stepping up to the clerk’s desk, she swallowed hard and took a quick breath. “I’m a doctor and I want to join the next caravan to Marietta in The Northwest Territory.” She glared straight ahead, hoping the clerk wouldn’t hear the nervousness in her voice. It was a tiny white lie. What harm could it do? The clerk shifted his eyes up to glare at her. After a pause and a purse of his lips, he directed his words to the men she had eavesdropped on. “I have found a doctor for your group, Mr. Evans.” The men walked over and looked at Molly then behind her. “Where?” She looked over her shoulder then back at the men. “I’m a doctor and I wish to travel to The Northwest Territory as soon as possible. Specifically, Marietta.” “Can we see your documents, miss?” “Documents?” The men glanced at each other. 17
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
“Your medical qualifications?” one of the men answered. “Doctor Andrew West on Mayberry Road will vouch for my training. He’s my mentor.” What would she do if they contact Dr. West? What would he tell them? For reasons she couldn’t understand, impending doom concerning her family nagged at her brain. “Will your husband travel with you?” the second man asked. Molly cleared her throat. “I’m not married.” A long, uncomfortable silence ensued. “The dangers of a woman traveling alone to the frontier are far too many for me to go on about here,” said the other man. He nodded to the company clerk. “And he can tell you that not many women make it by themselves in the wilderness, because that’s what it is… wild everything. The houses ain’t good, wild animals in your garden, and harsh winters.” He paused and sighed. “But the town really needs additional medical professionals because of last winter’s smallpox outbreak. Doctor True stopped it from spreading with inoculations, but the pox hit everyone.” He turned to his business partner. “I have some experience with smallpox variolations,” Molly offered. “Doctor West taught me and inoculated me.” She held out her left forearm and inched the sleeve up to show them her scar from the smallpox variolation procedure. The men looked at each other. “We leave in two days,” the second man said flatly. “The travel fee is one hundred dollars and payable in cash or a promissory note from your bank.” The man cleared his throat. “If possible, bring us proof of your medical training, and we will list you on the manifest as a physician’s apprentice.” The clerk tapped his desk and spoke up firmly. “The fee for doctors is fifty dollars, sir. They have to invest so much of their own money in medical equipment and supplies.”
18
Joy E. Held
“Right, fifty dollars cash, and we need Doctor West to vouch for you,” the stranger said. “Welcome aboard, miss, I didn’t get your name.” “Molly, I mean, Doctor Molly Hilliard.” “Welcome aboard Miss, um, Doctor Hilliard, and remember to get that recommendation from West,” he said while leaving the office. “But—” Molly began. The men were out the door, and the clerk called, “Next.” She heaved a frustrated sigh, spun on her heels, and headed for the door. “I am a doctor!” she said with conviction and to no one in particular. An hour later, she had gathered her few personal belongings into a small valise. Clothing and shoes packed, medical supplies were the next order of business. The Ohio Company clerk said doctors received a discounted price for passage in exchange for bringing their own equipment and medicine. She might wait until she arrived in Marietta to get herbs, but what if she needed something on the trail? Surely her medical skills would be expected should fellow travelers take ill. The slamming of the office door and the subsequent window rattle alerted her to Dr. West’s return. Time to tell him what she had done. And ask him for forgiveness and another big favor. She found Dr. West at his large desk reading a paper through a pair of wiry spectacles perched on the end of his nose. “I received correspondence from Ben Roush of The Ohio Company. He says a young woman was in the office this morning saying she was a doctor but didn’t have the credentials to satisfy him. She said I would vouch for her and that she had signed up to travel west to Marietta two days from now.” He lowered the paper and removed his glasses. “Are you certain this is what you want?” “Yes, it is, and I’m not leaving you in spirit. You have taught me virtually everything I know about medicine and healing. It 19
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
will be a chance for all of your skills and knowledge to be shared beyond the stifling boundaries of Baltimore. Merely because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t be a good doctor.” “You have to be careful where you say things like that, Molly. Even if you’re right, most people don’t agree. Their doctors have been men their whole lives.” He looked out the window to the bustling avenue. After a sigh, he continued. “You are as smart and able as any male doctor I have ever known, but the western frontier is no place for a young, beautiful woman on her own, no matter how capable or stubborn she is.” He crossed to her and reached for her hand. “Allow me go with you.” She tilted her head in question. “What about the Academy? You’re the only physician they have with an open mind about vaccinations, infectious diseases, and how vaccinations done correctly could possibly eradicate smallpox.” She opted not to tell him what the men had told her in The Ohio Company office today about the smallpox outbreak in Marietta. “If you don’t stay here and continue your work and teaching, the Academy will drop the idea because you know how unpopular it is among board physicians.” She pulled her hand away and held out her forearm where he had inoculated her. “Your destiny is in Baltimore. Mine is not.” His forehead furrowed, and she noticed a quiver in his upper lip. She closed her eyes. What he said next stilled the breath in her lungs. “There’s another account in today’s post about the torture a woman suffered after being abducted by Indians in the Northwest Territory. The description is horrible to conceive. The thought of such things happening to you….” Dr. West closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’ll say it again. I don’t want you to go, Molly.” He leveled his gaze on her. “I love you.” Molly drew in a long breath and opened her eyes, steeling herself against being too emotional. “Will you vouch for me so I can make this trip?” she asked plainly. “If I sign up as a doctor, I 20
Joy E. Held
am charged less money for passage, but I have to bring my own medical supplies.” She decided not to plead but kept her voice steady and her head high. “I see,” he said after a tight sigh that caused his waistcoat to sway slightly. “What will you do if I don’t? You can’t even buy your own surgical tools without me.” “I could take everything I need from here,” she said, gesturing to the patient room across the hall. “You have too much integrity for that. And that’s my point. I don’t think you can handle the wilderness. And I’m for damn sure that once some heathen sets eyes on you, they wouldn’t hesitate to take you at the first opportunity. You know all about the suffering of white captives. The thought of—” He stopped himself mid-sentence. “Please let me accompany you.” “Admirable, Andrew, but you wouldn’t be happy. I’m flattered by your concerns, but there are more men on the trip than women. I’ll be safe. I can’t explain it any other way. I have to go.” Danger abounded for a woman alone on the frontier, but the urge to leave screamed louder than her worries about the risks. She feared the unknown, but she couldn’t let Andrew know. She watched as he searched for his pocket watch, checked it, then looked out the window again. She admired his strong jaw and profile against the afternoon light surrounding him and noted the slight twitch in his jaw. He wasn’t exactly unhandsome, simply not the man for her. He didn’t reply, so she began devising plans for taking supplies from the cabinets later tonight. It was true that no other doctors would help simply because she was female. She watched Andrew a moment more and recognized his stubborn streak erupting. She turned to leave when his words stopped her. “Take whatever you want from storage, and we’ll go to Klinger’s Medical Supply tomorrow after appointments for the rest. I’ll write a letter of introduction for you. I can’t get an 21
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
apprentice certificate on this short of notice, but I’ll see what I can do about getting one sent to you.” She released the breath imprisoned in her chest. “Thank you, Andrew.” “Molly, I…” “We will always be friends. Always.” *** A few hours later Dr. West stood in The Ohio Company office across from a visibly exhausted clerk. “I’m vouching for the medical qualifications of Doctor Molly Hilliard.” The clerk handed him a statement attesting to Molly’s abilities, which he signed. “I’m also paying for her transport. How much?” He paid the fifty dollars in cash for Molly’s place with the wagon train. Handing the statement back, he asked, “Is Titus Palmer still employed with your company, and is he in town?” “Everybody’s hanging around,” replied the clerk. “Winter keeps ’em pretty close until time to move out. Palmer should be nearby, because he’s hired on to leave with us tomorrow.” “Any idea where he is?” “Try The Horse. That’s where I find him, unless it’s pay day. On pay days, he’s on the doorstep before I can get here in the mornings.” “You mean The Horse You Came in On Saloon?” The clerk nodded affirmatively. “Much obliged.” Andrew guided his wagon to Thames Street on the harbor. The ripe and pungent smells of fish, old wood, and salt water indicated the closeness of the water. He maneuvered over wet cobblestones and pulled his horse to stop a few yards from the saloon. Tall ships bobbed in the harbor not far from the front door and gulls searching for scraps dipped and whipped through the early spring air from every direction. 22
Joy E. Held
The flat fronted building looked plain from the outside, but Andrew knew from his many visits here that The Horse was a crowded, raucous, smelly place every hour of the day and night. Since they were well acquainted through previous business, it didn’t take long for Andrew to locate Titus in the crowd. As usual, a card game played out on the table in front of Palmer. Andrew ordered a whiskey shot from the barkeep, walked over to Palmer’s game, and sat down in the single empty chair. “Afternoon, Doc,” Palmer said calmly, keeping his eyes on the cards. “Things slow for sick people today?” “Have a job for you, Palmer,” replied Andrew. “I got a job, Doc. I’m scoutin’ for the OC. Leave in the morning.” “You can do my job at the same time you’re working with the OC.” “You gonna pay me?” “I always do.” “Can I finish this hand?” “I’ll be over there,” Andrew said. The sound of his chair scooting across the rough wooden floorboards filled the room. A couple of people looked their way in case they needed to clear out before a card game got unruly. The room released a collective sigh of relief when Andrew walked to a different table and sat down alone. Palmer eventually joined him. Andrew sipped his whiskey. “Keeping busy, Palmer?” “Been a slow winter, but I been workin’ pretty steady as a scout for all those droves of fool-headed people headin’ west.” “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have someone I want you to watch out for.” “I’m leaving in the morning, but I can take care of something tonight,” Palmer answered. “A young woman is traveling with the OC to Pittsburgh tomorrow. I want you to keep an eye on her.” “A lady friend?” 23
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
“She’s important to me, and I don’t want her to have any trouble until I can get to Pittsburgh myself.” “You going west?” “Not with the OC, but I’ll be close behind. I have a few things to settle here, then I’ll be able to leave town for a while. Just watch over her until I get to Pittsburgh.” “Nothin’ll happen to her, Doc. What’s her name? “Molly Hilliard.” “Molly Hilliard. I heard that name as the lady doc signed up yesterday.” “Same.” Andrew drew coins from his pocket. “A down payment. I’ll bring the rest with me. Keep her in Pittsburgh until I get there.” “Easy enough,” Palmer said, scooping the coins into his palm then stuffing them in his pocket. “See you in Pittsburgh.” Andrew bobbed his head and finished his whiskey. *** After a restless night of excitement and misgivings, bright sun and a brisk breeze greeted Molly when she stepped outside. She tied her bonnet under her chin with a sturdy knot and set off on foot for The Ohio Company office six blocks away. She’d said her goodbyes to Andrew and Aunt Lucy last night but waved to them in the window where they watched her leave today. Travelers without their own wagons or horses gathered at the office and were transported to the edge of town where the rest of the party lined up for the trip. She arrived breathless after her walk and sporting a healthy glow in her cheeks in time to hear the clerk from two days ago call her name. “Dr. Molly Hilliard!” “Here!” she called as she hiked up her skirts and scurried toward the wagon where Titus Palmer held out a hand. 24
Joy E. Held
“Climb aboard, miss. Your bags are already loaded on the supply wagons. Here we go,” he said as he took her hand and literally hoisted her trim frame into the back of the wagon. She wedged her slight bottom into the small space and smiled at the women and children sitting opposite her. Everyone’s faces glowed with anticipation. They grabbed their hats and skirts as a hearty wind gust swept past. The wagon lurched forward as if a magnet had suddenly pulled it westward. It was a good day to travel and a good day to begin a new life. *** A few blocks away, Andrew paced impatiently behind the Baltimore County jailhouse. He scuffed his buckled shoes in the dirt while keeping his face down and hidden under the broad rim of his hat. Finally, the door opened on the back of the building, and shackled prisoners shuffled out behind a ragged looking jailer. When the last of them stumbled from the low steps, another man closed the door. Andrew looked along the line of prospects. His eyes settled on one young woman right as the auction began. “Now starts the sale of the destitute, putrid, and undesirables without the means of making retributions for their heinous crimes. ’Tis March eighteenth, in the year of our good and gracious Lord, seventeen hundred and ninety-six.” The jailer spat in the dirt at the prisoners’ feet. “First bid goes to…” “Whoa, yer honor! Don’t we get to inspect?” a man in the crowd shouted. “’A course,” the jailer replied half-heartedly. Andrew walked straight to the female. Trying to avoid touching her, he used his horsewhip to raise the woman’s bound hands. Every nail was edged with filth, and her narrow wrists were red from the ropes. “Let me see her palms,” Andrew instructed a guard. 25
Saving Marietta: Journey to Freedom
The guard pulled her arms up to reveal a fresh brand of the letter ‘T’ for ‘thief ’ on the flesh just below her right thumb. “What did she steal?” Andrew quizzed. “L’essee, a blanket, two potatoes, a kettle, and a… and a— what was that other thing called?” the guard asked randomly as he held her arm. “Oh, and a pair of them knittin’ needles she used to gouge a man with. She’s a runaway from a Virginie farm.” “A Virginia farm?” quipped another man inspecting a different prisoner. “I’m from there. I need a house girl.” The stranger stepped toward Andrew who was in the process of using the end of his riding crop to lift the hair from the woman’s neck. Bug check. “How much for the girl?” the stranger asked. “She is sold,” Andrew said tightly. “But you don’t know how much she owes,” the jailer offered. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll take her,” Andrew answered as he let the dirty brown strings of hair flap down on her shoulders. He slid the handle of his crop along her jawbone and stopped under her chin where he tipped her face up. She tried to resist the nudge. “I have just the place for this one.” He fished in his waistcoat for his coin holder. “How much?” “Thirty shillings,” the jailer replied. The Virginia farmer whistled in astonishment. “Too rich for my blood,” he said and walked away. The guard took the money, untied her wrists, and shoved her by the neck toward Andrew. “Follow me,” Andrew said. “Keep a close eye on that one, Doc,” the jailer said offering a length of rope. “She’s slimy and quick.” “She’s hungry. She’s not going anywhere.” The sale concluded in a matter of minutes, and everyone scattered because the city didn’t condone the jail selling prisoners to pay off their debts. However unsavory or illegal, the process satisfied the issues of almost everyone but the prisoners. They 26
Joy E. Held
usually ended up captives on different terms. The girl followed Andrew all the way to the door of The Horse saloon at the harbor. “I’m afraid your malodorous scent is too robust even for this establishment,” Andrew said looking around. “Wait here while I get some food.” He pulled her to a horse-hitching ring hanging from the mortar in the wall of the building. He eyed the street in each direction. The mid-morning crowd on the busy walkway passed by, gulls swept in and out on the breeze, and the harbor water lapped against the barricade holding back the land. He used a gloved hand to push her up against the bricks. Upon closer inspection, she wasn’t as young as he’d initially thought. He took stock of her muscled arms and her slim waist. Purple shadows arched below her eyes, and her cheeks were as hollow as caves. He almost pitied her. The young woman leaned on the wall, her face turned away from the scrutiny. “After food, I’ll take you where no one will know or care about your crimes. You’ll have a new life.” Unsure if she spoke English since she hadn’t uttered a word yet, he paused. “If you run away, it won’t take much to catch you because they already know you at the jail. And when they catch you, I’ll let them do whatever they want with you, but if you’re here when I come out, I’m offering a start fresh.” He let the idea settle in. “Deal?” She turned steely green eyes on the doctor and licked her dry, cracked lips. “What do you want in return?” she asked plainly but with a clear brogue hanging on each word. Andrew reared his shoulders back and grinned. “That, you’ll have to wait and see.” He shoved the handle of his riding crop firmly into her shoulder, pushing her against the sun-warmed bricks of the flat building. “Stay.” She raised her dirt smudged chin, defiance sparking in her emerald eyes. “Stay,” he repeated more firmly. She glared at him a second, then bobbed her head slightly. “Water,” she said. 27