Something Like Love Page 5

  Neil noted that the doctor’s office was no longer where it had been on his last visit. He looked up at Olivia, intending to ask her where it was, only to see her weaving slowly back and forth, as if she’d lost the battle to ride into town under her own steam. Alarmed, he said, To hell with the gossips, and eased her from the saddle and into his arms. “I have you,” he said softly. “Don’t worry.”

  Looking around at the shocked, frozen faces of the townspeople, Neil shouted, “Somebody get the doc!”

  Seeing Chase running toward him filled him with relief. “She needs a doc!”

  Chase could see the staring citizens. Feeling the need to guard Olivia’s reputation until this could be sorted out, he said to Neil, “Doc Johnson’s up the street. I’ll carry her.”

  “No. Just show me!”

  The serious set of Neil’s features told all, so Chase didn’t argue and led the way.

  When Olivia came around this time, she noted the darkness and a small light glowing somewhere, lifting the gloom. She was in a bed, and she recognized the surroundings as her bedroom. The chair beside the bed was occupied by her good friend, Cara Lee Jefferson. Cara was reading a newspaper by the dim light of the lamp on Olivia’s nightstand.

  “Hello,” Olivia croaked from her dry-as-a-desert throat.

  The paper was immediately lowered and set aside. “Hello, yourself. You had us all worried.”

  Olivia offered a shaky smile in reply. “Sorry for all the bother. It was the heat. Lord, I’m so thirsty, I could drink the Great Solomon.”

  “How about we start with a cup of the Solomon first?” Cara Lee picked up a pitcher and poured water into a cup.

  Olivia struggled to sit up and took the cup with shaking hands. To aid her, Cara placed her own hands on top of Olivia’s and helped guide the vessel so Olivia could drink.

  “Slowly,” Cara warned. “Not too much at first.”

  Obeying, Olivia satisfied her thirst, then the cup was placed back on the nightstand.

  Cara asked, “Now, how do you feel?”

  “Like I was dragged behind a horse.”

  “Doc says you might have eaten some tainted food. He wants you to drink plenty of water for the next few days.”

  Olivia thought back on her visit to Ellis, but her mind was too foggy to remember what she’d eaten. “What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight.”

  “Did Mary Ann and the baby make it?”

  Cara nodded. “She and the others rode in a few hours ago. Her husband had tears in his eyes when he held the baby.”

  Olivia was glad to hear they’d arrived safely. “She said he’d never seen the child.”

  “They had a very happy reunion.”

  “The aunt was a crow, though. Mary Ann’s going to have to lock her in the storm cellar.”

  Cara laughed. “You must be on the mend—that legendary wit has returned.”

  “The woman was awful on the ride in the coach.”

  Silence stretched between the two friends, then Cara said, “Neil July was very concerned about you.”

  The memory of him was sharp, even if nothing else was. “Are he and his brother still in town?”

  “Yes. Last I saw they were on their way to Sophie’s poker game.”

  “I’ll always be grateful for his assistance.”

  “He wants to see you before he rides out in the morning. Think you’re up to it?”

  “If not, I’ll pretend. I’d like to thank him personally for his help.”

  Cara nodded. “I’ll have Chase let him know. In the meantime, Dr. Johnson doesn’t want you to be alone tonight, so the ladies and I volunteered to take shifts. Mine ends at midnight.”

  “Who takes over then?”

  “Sophie.”

  “Isn’t she playing poker?”

  “That she is, but she’s promised to have the men’s wallets cleaned out by the time she’s due to relieve me.”

  Olivia quipped, “If the twins had any gold on them when they came to town, they won’t when she’s done fleecing them.”

  At that moment, the bell on Olivia’s front door tolled, signaling a visitor. “That must be her now,” Cara said.

  Sophie Reynolds’s pale gold complexion glowed as it caught the flickering light of the dimmed lamps. “How are you, Olivia?”

  “Mending.”

  “Good to hear. You gave us all a fright.”

  The owner of Henry Adams’s two hotels turned to Cara and said, “You can go on home now, Cara Lee. I left your husband enough money to buy you something pretty, but not much else.”

  Cara’s head shook with amusement. “Thanks, Soph.” She then squeezed Olivia’s hand in parting. “I’ll see you later today.”

  Olivia held onto Cara’s hand for a moment and said genuinely, “Thank you.”

  Cara waved off the words. “I’d be a poor friend if I hadn’t come to see about you.”

  Cara showed both women a smile, then quietly departed.

  Sophie took the chair vacated by the schoolteacher, and Olivia drifted back to sleep on thoughts of Neil July.

  The next morning, Olivia awakened to the smells of coffee and the familiar female voices of her neighbors Daisy Miller and Rachel Eddings drifting in from the kitchen; both made her smile. The two elderly women were members of the original colonists who’d founded Henry Adams, and they were known around town as the Two Spinsters. Originally there’d been Three Spinsters, but Lucretia Potter had died of pneumonia the winter before Olivia’s arrival.

  Rachel, dressed in her usual attire of men’s trousers and shirt, stuck her gray head around the doorjamb. Upon seeing Olivia awake, she removed her pipe from her mouth and called to Daisy. “She’s up.”

  Without further word, Rachel walked over and placed a motherly palm on Olivia’s forehead. “Skin’s cooler,” she declared. “How about your other parts?”

  Olivia’s head was clear and no longer pounding. “I feel much better.” The queasiness in her stomach was gone as well. She still felt weak as linen, though.

  Rachel sat in the chair by the bed. “That’s good news. Delbert says we’re to keep an eye on you. No activities until the end of the week.”

  Delbert was Dr. Johnson’s given name, and Olivia had no intentions of lolling around until week’s end. “The Elders meeting is tonight.”

  Wearing a faded brown dress, Daisy Miller entered the bedroom carrying a tray that held a cup of coffee and a plate holding two hot brown biscuits. “Yes it is, but you won’t be attending. I’ll take your place as secretary until you’re back on your feet.”

  Daisy was the town telegraph clerk and the past recording secretary for the Elders, so Olivia knew not to worry about the job being done well. She also knew from experience that arguing with the Two Spinsters about anything only made them dig in their seventy-year-old heels, so she sat up and accepted the tray from Daisy’s hand.

  Daisy then added, “Reverend Whitfield says he’ll conduct the junior choir rehearsal tomorrow night for you, and of course all surveying will be suspended until you’re really better.”

  Olivia heard the inflection on the word really and smiled to herself. They’d been mothering her since she’d come to town and purchased the late Lucretia Potter’s millinery store. They’d also become her friends, and she appreciated them as much as she did their concern for her welfare. The surveying had to do with the Henry Adams Ladies Historical Society and their project to redo the maps of the original homesteads. The old maps had been discovered in a trunk back in ’82, but they’d been so damaged by mildew and mold many were undecipherable. Olivia and a few volunteers were combing the countryside searching for the homes and farms established by the original colonists so the maps could be restored. “Can I attend the Literary Club meeting tomorrow evening?”

  “We’ll see how you’re faring,” Rachel replied. “For now, Daisy and I will tidy up your kitchen. You. Rest.”

  Rachel handed her a copy of The Colored Patriot, a newspaper published
in Topeka. The date on the banner read April 20, but people in the west were accustomed to reading old news.

  The Two Spinsters went back to the kitchen and Olivia opened the paper. She scanned an article on the newly appointed minister to Liberia, a North Carolina educator named Ezekiel Ezra Smith, then turned her attention to the editorial. It voiced disgust at Jim Crow’s increasing stranglehold on the race but urged its readers to continue to strive with the hopes that one day “Every man shall be free and equal—equal under the law, equal in every condition, equal in every avenue and walk.”

  At noon, Cara Lee Jefferson arrived to relieve the Two Spinsters. Accompanying her was Neil July. Olivia would have preferred to receive him fully dressed and standing, but being in bed in her night rail was all she had. He was dressed as he had been yesterday, and he had his flat crowned hat in his hand. If it were possible, he seemed even more handsome than she remembered; an ebony god with a gun belt girdling his loins.

  “Afternoon, Miss Olivia. Came to see how you were doing.”

  “Much better, thanks to you.”

  When he smiled in reply, Olivia decided it was the smile that was most devastating. The accenting mustache added to the potency.

  “So I passed the gentleman test?”

  She amended her earlier assessment; his eyes were equally powerful. And yes, he had passed the test. He’d been kind and concerned, unexpected qualities in a man wanted by the law. “You passed with flying colors, Mr. July. I couldn’t have asked for a more gracious escort.”

  Neil was pleased by her words. He also liked the way her smile made him feel inside. “Then I expect you to be up and around when I come back to visit the sheriff. He and I are old friends.”

  Olivia was surprised by that news; she didn’t know the two were acquainted. However, the underlying directness in July’s gaze gave her the impression that Sheriff Jefferson wasn’t the only person he would be coming to see, and that made her heart pound with an uncharacteristic anticipation beneath her white cotton nightgown. Chastising herself for having thoughts and reactions more suitable for a silly young girl, she grabbed hold of herself. “I will be, and I’ll be expecting the return of my cameo next time we meet.”

  “I’ll have it.”

  Their eyes held, and Olivia found herself responding to a silent call she’d never heard before this particular man had entered her life.

  Neil didn’t want to leave her, but Shafts was waiting, and so was that Kansas City gold train.

  Olivia didn’t want him to leave either. Even though the thought was highly improper considering who he was and how he made his living, she knew there was more to Neil July than his penchant for robbing trains. “Hopefully, you’ll be gainfully employed when we meet again.”

  He gave her a grin she felt down to her toes, then said, “I think you already know my answer to that.” Neil studied her beautiful face and once again wished he didn’t have to leave. “The doc said I’m not to tire you out, so I guess I should be going.”

  Olivia fought to hide her disappointment.

  “Adios, Miss Olivia.”

  Resonating in response to his soft words of parting, she said, “Good-bye, Mr. July. Thank you again.”

  He nodded to her, then to Cara, and departed, his boots sounding loud on the plank wood floor.

  When the women were alone, Cara surveyed Olivia for a long moment, then asked, “Is it just me, or did the temperature rise in here a bit?”

  An embarrassed Olivia dropped her eyes to the crocheted white coverlet covering her body.

  Cara said, “He’s an outlaw, Olivia.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But what?”

  “Let’s just say, I wish he weren’t, because he’s a very interesting man.”

  “Yet you’re talking about meeting him again?”

  “Just so I can get back my mother’s cameo.”

  Cara studied her skeptically.

  Olivia explained the circumstances surrounding her first encounter with Neil July but left out the part about the kiss she still owed.

  At the end of the tale, Cara searched Olivia’s features and said sagely, “I get the sense that there’s more to this than you’re letting on, Miss Olivia Sterling, but I won’t press. He is a handsome devil, though.”

  “That he is, but he’s also a wanted man. It’s a shame, really.”

  Cara Lee said, “Can you imagine the gossip if you took up with an outlaw?”

  “I’d be run out of town on a rail.”

  “Sybil Whitfield once told me a man that handsome could make a woman break every code she’s ever lived by.”

  “I don’t doubt that. He probably has a string of brokenhearted women from here to Mexico.” Olivia then asked, “Was Mrs. Whitfield talking about anyone in particular when she said that to you?”

  Cara didn’t respond.

  Olivia searched her face. “Cara? Was she?”

  Cara finally replied, “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “Chase.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened.

  Cara gave her an embarrassed grin. “I’ll tell you the story one day when you feel better.”

  “I’m better now,” Olivia countered with a laugh. “So, did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Break every code?”

  Cara smiled as if thinking back, then confessed in a satisfied voice, “Oh, yes.”

  Their eyes met, and their combined peals of laughter filled the house.

  Chapter 3

  The Two Spinsters were correct; Doc Johnson didn’t let Olivia resume her activities for the remainder of the week, but by church on Sunday she was rested and feeling like herself again. Monday morning she walked over to the Malloy Mercantile to see if a new batch of the scented soaps she was partial to had come in. Armstead Malloy’s edifice to commerce was two stories high and three lots wide. On the shelves inside were the latest firearms from Smith and Wesson, magazines like Life and the Ladies’ Home Journal, farm implements, and postage stamps and saddles. He sold ready-made suits and dresses, modern stoves, washer machines, and perfume he claimed came all the way from France. He stocked such a variety of goods that the sign over the door stated, IF MALLOY’S DON’T SELL IT—YOU DON’T NEED IT.

  There were quite a few customers inside when she entered, and many greeted her with smiles, which she returned in kind. To her delight, the soap had indeed arrived. There was also a new shipment of ladies’ hairbrushes. One with a tortoiseshell handle caught her eye, so she took it and her two bars of soap to the counter. There were three people in line ahead of her, so she waited her turn. The jars of penny candy on the counter reminded her that she needed to replenish the candy jar she kept in her shop for the children who accompanied her customers. On the opposite end of the counter was a short wooden crock filled with pickles in brine. The pickles, like the cracker barrel standing by the front door, were standard fare at most stores on the plains. Olivia liked crackers but wasn’t particularly fond of pickles.

  Malloy was behind the counter. Olivia hadn’t seen him since their ill-fated journey from Ellis last week, and she hoped he was through pestering her with his unwanted proposals. When he glanced up from the register and saw her, his eyes turned cold and he looked away. He waited on the folks in front of her, and when it was Olivia’s turn, she stepped up to the counter and placed her purchases on it.

  “Well, if it isn’t the outlaw lover,” Malloy said harshly.

  Olivia was caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, if it isn’t the outlaw lover,” he repeated. “Did you let him kiss you?”

  Confused, Olivia studied him as if he’d grown two heads.

  “Did you let that filthy killer kiss you?”

  Now she understood, but before she could respond, he snarled, “Don’t play the innocent. I saw the eyes you were making at him, and the way he was making them back. Heard he carried you through town.”

  Olivia looked around at the faces of the
other customers. Every eye in the place was focused on her. Gossip would follow this incident for sure. She said coolly, “Yes, he carried me through town—to Dr. Johnson’s office.”

  “Same way he carried you around when he took you out of the coach?”

  Now that he had everyone’s undivided attention, he called out, “I tried to save her reputation, but July put her on his horse, snuggled up real close, and rode off. Left me standing in the dust.”

  Olivia didn’t believe he was twisting the truth this way. “I was ill, Mr. Malloy, and there was no room for three people on the back of the horse.”

  “Bet that vermin took all kinds of liberties.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened, and anger began to build. “There were no liberties taken. July was a perfect gentleman.”

  Malloy scoffed, “Do you deny that you spent more time talking with him than you did to me?”

  “Is that what this attack is about—your pride?”

  “My pride and your reputation.”

  Olivia had no intentions of enduring any more of his verbal nonsense. “Keep the soap and the brush. I’ll be shopping elsewhere from now on. Good day, Mr. Malloy.”

  “That’s fine. You go ahead and run off. No telling what you two were engaged in on the ride back to town.”

  She wanted to throttle him. “I demand an apology!”

  “Demand all you want. I’m the one needing an apology for thinking you were a lady!”

  Gasps came from the female customers.

  Malloy gave her a nasty little grin. “First story I print in my newspaper is going to be about you and that outlaw seed you’re probably carrying.”

  The scandalous implication made Olivia want to shake him until his teeth rattled loose. The need to retaliate in some form or fashion surged through her frame with such force that she thought she might explode. Had there been a weapon on the counter she might have shot him. Instead, spying the pickle barrel, she picked it up and pointedly dumped the contents over his head. While he sputtered and cursed, she tossed the barrel aside and snapped, “Print that in your newspaper, little man!”