Something Like Love Page 4

  Malloy came around to lend his assistance to Olivia’s dismount, but he was brought up short by the scowling face of Neil July, who told him, “You go see about your canteen. I’ll help the lady.”

  For a moment, Olivia thought Malloy would challenge the outlaw, but apparently he had more sense than that. Instead he shot July a hostile look, then did as he was told.

  July turned his attention to Olivia. Shafts had already helped the other women to the ground, and with the baby in tow they were following him to the pump.

  July placed his hands on Olivia’s waist, and she felt the heat of them penetrating the many layers of her clothing to her skin. She had no time to deal with that because she was being lifted down, and his eyes and the intensity reflected in them were all she could see. Having been five feet eight inches tall since the age of fourteen, she was unaccustomed to being around a man she had to look up at in order to make eye contact with. That fact added even more ingredients to her uncharacteristically flustered state. He towered over her by a good six inches.

  It took Olivia a moment to realize that his hands were no longer on her waist and that she was standing on solid ground, but for the life of her she couldn’t move.

  Scanning her lovely face, Neil was again tempted by an overpowering urge to ride off with her, but he fought it down. He’d promised to be a gentleman, and he was trying his best to keep the vow. It was difficult, though. Dios, she was lovely. “Let’s get that water.”

  His words broke the spell and brought Olivia back to reality. Nervously mumbling her thanks for his help, she hurried off to catch up with the others. Neil watched her retreat with appreciative eyes.

  Determined to put Neil July out of her mind but failing miserably, Olivia filled her canteen, then used some of the pump’s water to wet her handkerchief. She could still feel the warmth of his hands. His dark, mischief-filled eyes seemed to be permanently burned in her mind. She couldn’t ever remember being rendered speechless. Men like him had no business showing up out of nowhere and putting innocent women in flux. Removing her hat, she used the dampened cotton to mop at her hairline and the heat beneath the collar of her blouse. Her dearest wish was to get home and strip herself of the hot, confining clothing so she could cool off, but there were still miles to cover before they reached town. Until then, she was forced to endure the unrelenting sun and its sibling, the blistering heat. She looked toward July and found him watching her. Had he really taken up the outlaw life because of poverty? He impressed her as being intelligent, so why, she wondered, hadn’t he chosen an honest profession? Why train robbing? She doubted she’d ever know the truth, but she was, admittedly, curious. Not that she should be. The man was a wanted criminal after all, and no self-respecting woman had any business pondering him, even if he could melt females with his smile.

  Neil was pondering her too, every magnificent, God-built inch of her. This was no skinny back east woman. The tall, dark-eyed Olivia was as shapely as a female Mexican deity. He already knew that her copper skin would be like silk to his touch, and her mouth…she had a mouth a man would rob a thousand trains for just to kiss. Her lips would be sweet; yielding. Arousal warmed his blood. He forced himself to concentrate on less volatile matters. The seamstress was probably as virgin as she was tall, and he had to remember that.

  Once everyone filled their canteens, the horses were watered and the group started up the rutted road. They were moving as slowly as before. The oppressive heat and the unrelenting July sun made Olivia feel like a hen on a spit. Were she not in mixed company, she would have already taken off her suit jacket, but with the men present such a move was frowned upon by polite society, so she suffered in the tight corset, the camisole atop it, and the blouse and cotton jacket that were on top of them. Beneath her skirt were thigh-length drawers, a cotton slip, and two petticoats. Throw in the long black stockings on her legs, and one had a properly dressed woman who was wilting.

  From her seat atop the saddle, Olivia glanced down at July, who was keeping a slow pace at the horse’s side. He didn’t appear at all bothered by the heat. The brown, flat-crowned hat shaded his head and face from the harsh sun, and the brown leather vest covering his torso left his well-developed, dark arms bare. His attire was hardly proper, but he appeared far more comfortable than she. Maybe in the future women would be allowed the freedom to go about in public with their arms and shoulders bare, but for the present, she roasted.

  The farther they traveled, the hotter she became. Olivia had never done well in the heat. When she was younger, no summer Sunday service at Chicago’s Pleasant Valley African Methodist Episcopal Church had been complete without her being assisted from the church because of her reaction to the stifling temperatures. Although the doctors had assured her parents that folks fainted from heatstroke all the time, Olivia had hated the reaction because she’d always equated fainting with simpleminded, empty-headed females attempting to draw attention to themselves. Now that she was older, the number of incidents had decreased dramatically, but every now and then, when the temperatures were high—like today—she’d get light-headed, then woozy. To her dismay, that feeling was creeping up on her now. She drew in a deep breath to keep it at bay, then attempted to stay focused on the road.

  A half mile later, perspiration was coursing down her spine like a river. She discreetly wiped at the small streams rolling from her hairline.

  “How are you doing up there, Miss Olivia?” Neil asked.

  “I’m a bit warm,” she allowed, “but well. And you?”

  “Not doing too bad, but I’m used to the heat.” He viewed her for a moment, taking in the sheen of moisture on her brow. “You should take off that fancy jacket. Might make you cooler.”

  Olivia would like nothing better, but she shook her head. “Not in mixed company. It isn’t proper.”

  “What’s proper about heatstroke?”

  She managed to keep her smile hidden. “Nothing, but society dictates I broil.”

  He shook his head. “Sometimes society needs to be ignored.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. July. Truly.” It was a lie; she wasn’t fine. If she didn’t find some shade soon, she was going to faint. Only sheer will was keeping her from tumbling from the saddle.

  Neil didn’t think she looked fine—she looked like she was about to keel over. “Well, I’m going to keep an eye on you. Don’t want you falling off with no one to catch you.”

  Olivia could see the tight-lipped Malloy looking on. “I appreciate your concern, but I was raised on a timber farm and rode horses before I could walk. I doubt I’ll fall off.”

  Neil now knew the reason why she sat the horse so confidently. “Good to hear, but begging your pardon, you don’t look like a farm girl.”

  “How am I supposed to look?”

  “Less elegant.”

  Another succinct response that caught her off guard. One seldom heard of outlaws using the word elegant. He truly didn’t fit the mold of what she’d always assumed a train robber would be.

  Malloy asked with a cynical edge to his voice, “When did you rob your first train, July?”

  Neil had been enjoying Olivia’s company, and he wasn’t pleased by the starched collar’s interruption. “Why?”

  “Thinking of starting a newspaper in Henry Adams. Thought you might make a good story.”

  Olivia frowned. “You’re going to open a newspaper?”

  “Yep. Been thinking about it for awhile. Town needs one, don’t you think?”

  On the surface she agreed. The Nicodemus Cyclone was the closest Henry Adams had to a local paper, but she certainly didn’t see Armstead Malloy being the owner. He’d never impressed her as being overly literate. Greedy, yes; literate and well-read, no.

  Malloy asked, “Where are you from, Mr. July?”

  “Florida, Indian Territory, Mexico. My people have lived everywhere, it seems.”

  “Why?”

  “Broken treaties mostly. Everywhere we’ve been, we were promised one thing and g
iven nothing.”

  Olivia could hear the bitterness in his tone. “Where is your family now?” she asked.

  “Town called Brackettville on the Texas Mexican border.” Neil thought about the young men at home who were descending into alcohol and crime because the country was in no mood to honor its promises and because their way of life was fading like the winter moon. He pushed the thoughts away. “And your family?”

  “I’m an only child. My parents are both living and in good health.”

  “And what do they think of your coming all this way to live?”

  Olivia kept the truth to herself. “I’m sure they’re concerned, but I’m doing well.” She watched a bird fly overhead and wished for a human set of wings so she could soar home and get away from the heat. As it stood, they had a good ten miles to go, and it would be dusk, if not dark, by the time of their arrival. Right now, the sun was at its zenith and the heat continued to bear down. Malloy said something but she didn’t respond. Her vision began to blur, her surroundings shimmer. She heard Neil July’s voice, but he sounded as if he were inside of a tunnel and she couldn’t make out the words. Tiny black spots swam across her eyes. She began to sway atop her mount, but she could not summon the will to stop it. Feeling herself melting like candle wax, she pitched forward.

  When she began to tumble from Black’s back, Neil was there to catch her. He’d been watching her since their departure from the old homestead because he could see the distress in her face and her attempts to keep it hidden. Concern etching his face, he hollered at Shafts to stop, then eased Olivia to the grass-covered ground. Seconds later, Mary Ann and her aunt hurried to his side.

  Mary Ann gave the baby to Neil, then instructed the men to stand over Olivia to give her a bit of shade. Out of respect they then turned their backs. Mary Ann quickly opened Olivia’s blouse and loosened the corset beneath to help her breathe better. A water-soaked handkerchief was applied to Olivia’s forehead and neck in hopes it would revive her. It did. A few moments later, she opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but she was gently eased back down.

  “Just lie still for a moment, Miss Olivia,” she heard Mary Ann say, then a cool cloth was bathing her face. “Looks like you got a touch of heatstroke.”

  Olivia fought to make her eyes focus and saw the men standing with their backs to her. Hazy, she noted that July and Two Shafts were large enough to pose as buildings. She also noted the pricks and sticks of the parched grass she was lying in, and she struggled to a seated position.

  Neil wanted to turn around so badly he could taste it. He assumed she’d come around, but he wanted to see for himself. Watching her fall from the horse had scared him. Of course a gentleman didn’t turn around when a lady was half dressed, but Neil was worried about her.

  For a moment Olivia could do nothing more than sit and try to get her bearings. Her headache had increased tenfold, and her stomach was queasy. She lowered her head and took in a few deep and what she hoped would be calming breaths. It seemed to help. After a few moments, the uneasiness settled down. She redid her buttons. The corset beneath she left undone. Although society frowned on such action, she thought the impropriety was warranted.

  She stood then, slowly and shakily, and the men turned, their faces a study in concern.

  “You need to see a doc,” Neil declared.

  “I’m fine.” Or at least she would be once she got home. “Thank you all for your assistance.” Olivia was embarrassed down to her toes.

  Neil wondered if she knew how pale she looked. He doubted it—otherwise she wouldn’t be insisting on how fine she was. Rather than argue with her, he took matters into his own hands. Not giving her time to say yea or nay, he scooped her up and began walking to his horse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to town so you can see the doc.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  He didn’t slow.

  “Mr. July, I insist—”

  “You can insist all you want once we get you home.”

  He put her up on Black’s back, then swung up behind her.

  For the second time a surprised and scandalized Olivia asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Riding you home.”

  “But—”

  “You can tell me off on the way.”

  That said, he swung the horse around and said to his twin, “I’ll meet you there.”

  Shafts nodded.

  Armstead Malloy yelled, “Hey! You can’t just ride off with her like this. For propriety’s sake, I should go, too.”

  Neil shrugged. “Suit yourself. Keep up if you can.” He urged the horse forward and left the angry Malloy standing in the dust.

  As the horse increased the distance between its riders and Shafts’s party, Olivia tried to make July see reason. “This is entirely unnecessary.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “I’m perfectly able to assess my own health, Mr. July.” In reality, though, she still didn’t feel all that good. If his arms hadn’t been around her, she doubted she would have been able to stay upright.

  “I’m sure you are, but humor me.”

  On the one hand, Olivia was glad to be traveling home at a speedier pace, but on the other hand, she would be riding into town with an outlaw. All she could think about was the gossip ahead. She put it out of her mind; pondering the future only sharpened her headache.

  In spite of the two humans on its back, the horse didn’t seem bothered. His long strides were powerful and sure, and it made Olivia feel as if she were on the back of Pegasus himself. Too bad her malaise prevented her from enjoying it. She was a good rider. She loved letting her mount have its head and feeling the rush of excitement as she and the animal became one. Not today. Today she was perfectly willing to let July handle the reins.

  Neil decided maybe this ride hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She looked pale and wan, and the desire to have her examined fueled his intentions. But she was lying against his chest like a lover. Although her eyes were closed, every inch of his body was as awake as a dawn-crowing rooster. He knew he had no business letting her soft curves distract him from this mission of mercy, but because the good Lord had seen fit to make Neil July a male, he was very much aroused. Once again he forced himself to think of calmer things, and he directed his attention to the ride and away from the woman cuddled against him like a courtesan.

  The sun had gone down and dusk was claiming the plains when Neil saw Henry Adams on the horizon. He pulled back on the reins to halt the horse.

  Olivia opened her eyes and looked up at him before asking sluggishly, “Why are we stopping?”

  “Do you think you can ride on your own?”

  “Yes,” she replied, though in reality she wasn’t sure. “Why?”

  “Want to spare your reputation. It’ll look better if I’m walking when we get there.”

  For a moment, Olivia didn’t know what to make of an outlaw who showed such understanding. “Thank you, Mr. July.” Were she feeling up to snuff, she might have asked him where he’d learned to be so chivalrous, but the lingering effects of the heatstroke had her at such sixes and sevens that she simply wanted to get home and lie down.

  “You were worried about the gossips.”

  “I was.”

  “Well, this way, you won’t have to be.”

  Their eyes held. Unable to resist, Neil ran a knuckle down her brown cheek. The feel of her satin-soft skin hit him like the kick of a mule. “Let’s get you home.”

  His touch made Olivia’s insides reel; not even sunstroke could shield her from the riot of sensations brought on by his charged presence. When he’d dismounted, the brief moments of contact between his powerful body and hers had set off sparks against her skin.

  On his feet now, Neil took hold of Black’s bridle, and she took up the reins.

  Although they were again underway, Olivia struggled to stay upright in the saddle. The motion of the horse and the waves of distress washing over he
r joined forces to undermine her determination. She kept telling herself, Just a bit more and you’ll be home, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on.

  Neil hadn’t been to Henry Adams in years, and he looked forward to seeing Chase Jefferson again. They’d met initially as military men. Chase had been a sergeant with the famous Tenth Cavalry, and Neil had been a member of the celebrated Seminole Negro scouts. Now, Neil robbed trains, and Chase wore a star. Neil and Shafts didn’t commit crimes in this portion of the state out of respect for Chase—and because they knew he’d toss them in jail if they did. Chase Jefferson took his job seriously, just as seriously as he’d taken being a Union soldier, and later, after the war, a Buffalo Soldier.

  Neil was surprised to see how much Henry Adams had grown since his last visit. It was his business to stay abreast of the ways of the railroads, and he knew about the rumors that claimed the railroad was coming to serve the Black residents of the valley. Everything he’d heard said Henry Adams would be the town chosen, as opposed to the better-known Nicodemus. Many businesses were also placing their bets on Henry Adams and were deserting the other colonies in Barton and Rice Counties to resettle here.

  Leading the horse down Main Street, he kept one eye on Olivia and the other on the new businesses. He saw a bank, a barbershop, and a hotel on land that he remembered being open and unplowed. He contrasted this thriving township with his poverty-stricken hometown, where there were no stores, hotels, or newspapers—just old people and children trying to survive on whatever their able-bodied family members could provide. Thinking about home made the old anger rise. He pushed away the festering bitterness and looked for the doctor’s office.

  Because it was the end of the day, there were only a few citizens on the plank walks that connected the string of shops and businesses. The sight of a distressed-looking Miss Olivia seated on the back of a big black horse being led by a big, muscular Black man made them stop and stare curiously.

  Sheriff Chase Jefferson was on his way to the telegraph office when he saw them. He too stopped. What in the hell is Olivia Sterling doing with Neil July?! Stepping off the walk and down into the street, he went to find out.