As Nelson Muntz once said “I can think of at least two things wrong with that title.” I have no idea why Kensington Books has chosen to center the publicity blurb of The Medicine Woman of Galveston around Galveston or the 1900 hurricane that devastated the town, as it takes ages to get to Texas and the hurricane happens in the last quarter of the story. The prose keeps the reader engaged, but the plot feels overlong by half and you have to slog through a lot of dark, abuse-laden material to get there. But the character driven parts – a sweet romance, the stories of the others working at the medicine show, and so many more small details – do make the book interesting, which is why it lands right in the middle o’ the pack.

Doctor Tucia Hatherley was once a groundbreaking lady doctor whose future seemed promising and limitless. Unfortunately, she makes a fatal error in an operating room when a patient hemorrhages and dies. Tucia is subsequently drummed out of the doctoring world – not in some small part by her guilt and shame over the accident – and has been supporting herself and her young son, Toby, with funds she makes working in a corset factory. Toby has Downs Syndrome, and Tucia is run ragged trying to keep an eye on him while keeping bread on the table.

One day, Huey Horn – better known as the Amazing Adolphus – shows up on her doorstep with a tempting proposition. Having spied Tucia at her former mentor’s (and her rapist’s) lecture, he knows she has a medical license, which is just the thing to add credibility to his traveling medicine show. If she endorses his patented medicines, he will give her a salary and a home for Toby. Feeling she has no other choice, Tucia joins up with Huey and his troupe of misfits. While she finds new purpose and meaning administering cures in her tent, she feels guilty about the fact that she’s promoting medicine that is effectively snake oil.

Things get even more complicated when Tucia falls for Darl, Huey’s old prison associate who is working with the show. Tucia plans to make a break from Huey’s abusive grip, but complications ensue.

The Medicine Woman of Galveston is one heavy book, and there’s a lot of abuse to get through before Tucia lands her happily ever after. The period detail is fantastic, but Tucia is so filled with self-loathing and panic that it’s hard to relax into the story as she goes from misfortune to misfortune. That doesn’t make the novel mediocre, nor does the romance, or the impeccable research; it’s the way the plot meanders and spins its wheels as Tucia takes forever to get her confidence back.

The research here – and that it’s terribly easy to root for Tucia – make this worth reading. But The Medicine Woman of Galveston is also terribly hard on the heart. Leave it for when you’re in a particularly dark mood and it might take you right out of your head and into the muddy fields of the Midwest.