More about To Stand in the Breach
She came to America to escape a workhouse prison, but will the cost of freedom be too high a price to pay?
1933, Wisconsin – Large animal veterinarian Katy Wells takes her patients’ welfare personally, so it’s no surprise when she stands up to angry farmers planning a milk strike or takes in an injured draft horse to save its life. But after a visitor from the past discovers her location and reveals a threat, she must choose between her work and her freedom, and whether to trust a man to keep her safe.
Read the Whole Series!
Book One: To Stand in the Breach
Book Two: A Strike to the Heart
Book Three: As Silent as the Night
Inheritance battles, labor strikes, and a sweet Irish romance to root for ... To Stand in the Breach is the Depression-era tale you won’t want to end. ~Kelsey Gietl, author of Broken Lines
Published by Hearth Spot Press
© 2021 Danielle Grandinetti
Read the Opening Scene
Monday, February 13, 1933
He found her.
Desperately clutching the paper, Dr. Katy Wells slipped into the sheltered area between two of the buildings at the center of the small town of Eagle, Wisconsin. She placed a gloved hand on the worn plank wall of Town Hall and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the words on the letter. Fear’s insidious claws sank into her chest. Fourteen years of running, of staying one step ahead of her uncle and other men who wished her harm … and she’d finally found security here, in this town, hidden as it was in the middle of the United States.
Until today.
Farmers she knew from her veterinary rounds passed along the walk in front of the buildings, their coats closed against the chilly wind despite the bright sunlight. None of the men glanced her way. Still, she stepped deeper into the shadows. She couldn’t face any of them. They only knew her as a competent large-animal doctor, someone who—apparently, miraculously—saved countless creatures these farmers thought past help. Not a one would guess her a girl given to fits of panic.
She tried to iron the wrinkles out of the letter with a trembling hand. It came from the matron at the boardinghouse where she had lived while studying veterinary medicine at Cornell. The matron had written what she obviously considered good news based on her cheery tone. Katy’s family had been searching for her—of course they had, as Katy had vanished fourteen years ago … on purpose. They had tracked her to Ithaca, New York. Now, they were on a train to Wisconsin, if the matron was to be believed.
Och, why had she opened the letter before the farmers’ meeting? She needed every ounce of her courage to stand up in front of all those men. If only that New York newspaper hadn’t published an article on the handful of female veterinarians who had graduated from Cornell in the last couple decades. The reporter focused on the first woman in America, who had received her Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine just twenty-three years ago, but mentioned other graduates as well. Graduates like Katy. That must be the way her uncle had tracked her to Wisconsin.
She pushed from the wall, carefully folding the letter before tucking it into her medical bag. Then she smoothed the gray fabric of her skirt, as if that action could smooth her troubled heart. She needed to put the letter, her uncle, and her past out of her mind. This afternoon’s meeting was not about her. In fact, knowing these farmers as she did, they likely wouldn’t appreciate her interrupting their meeting. Normally, she’d happily leave them to their own devices. She’d rather face down an ornery bull than walk the gauntlet of men inside.
But this meeting affected her patients, which meant she needed to speak up.
Chin held high, she stepped into Town Hall and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark interior before entering the assembly room. Angry shouts blurred with the rushing in her ears. Animals she could manage. This?
Eagle’s Town Hall comfortably held the collection of dairy farmers, but Katy couldn’t drag in a deep breath. She pinned her eyes on the American flag that hung behind the podium. The symbol of freedom laughed at her. Even an ocean hadn’t hidden her from Uncle Patrick. Put it out of your mind.
Step by step, she made her way down the center aisle. For my patients, she told herself, for the cows. Two-thirds of the way toward the front, men began turning their attention on her. Whispers stung her ears. She could guess what they were saying, what they were thinking. They might trust her to save their ill horse or deliver a breech calf, but when it came to business, she wasn’t welcome. If not for the cows …
“Dr. Wells?” The sound of her name snapped her eyes from the flag to the man behind the podium. Mayor Rolland. “What are you doing here?”
She squared her shoulders against the accusation in the man’s voice. “I’m here to speak for me patients.”
Deep, male laughter rippled through the room, raising the hair on Katy’s neck. She hated being a lone female, and it didn’t help that nerves deepened her accent. Sweat dripped down her back. She tightened her grip on her medical bag, which held emergency medical supplies and a few personal items. It promised the security of her profession.
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