Neil, wearing one of Olivia’s aprons over the shirt and denims he’d worn to the wedding, had just set the steaming, golden-brown birds on a platter. “Evening,” he said.
Eunice had the oddest look on her face. It was as if she were having difficulty reconciling this apron-wearing version of Neil with the terrifying version her husband had described back at the hotel. “Good evening, Mr. July,” she said haltingly. “I’m Olivia’s mother.”
“Evenin’, Olivia’s mother,” he responded with that dazzling smile of his. “Welcome to Kansas.”
“Thank you. Smells mighty good in here.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Neil thought the tall Eunice as beautiful as her daughter, and he now knew where Olivia had gotten her good looks. “Soon as Teresa’s biscuits are ready, we can eat.”
He then nodded at Olivia’s father. “Mr. Sterling.”
James nodded back.
Olivia could see her mother eyeing Teresa standing with her arms crossed by the back door. Eunice was trying not to stare at the beautiful woman in the black leathers wearing a gun belt, but she was doing a poor job of it. “Mother and Papa, this is Teresa. Neil and Shafts’s sister.”
Teresa inclined her head. “Evenin’, folks.”
Olivia’s mother turned a very confused face to her husband. He responded with a solemn shake of his head.
Neil asked, “How was the train ride out, Mrs. Sterling?”
“Long,” she sighed.
Butler said, “And we weren’t robbed.” It was an undisguised slap.
Teresa drawled, “Olivia, how about I just shoot him now and save us all the trouble.”
Eunice clutched her husband’s arm in fright.
Olivia turned blazing eyes on Butler. “Either be respectful or leave.”
He inclined his head regally. “My apologies. It was a joke.”
Nobody believed him for a moment.
Neil studied Butler silently. It occurred to him that the bug was going to get stepped on before this was resolved; the man was too arrogant and disrespectful for a tenderfoot who’d just gotten off the train from Chicago. Neil just hoped not to have to arm-wrestle Tee and Shafts for the honor when the time came.
Olivia gestured toward the table. “Please. Sit.”
Because Butler’s presence hadn’t been planned on, the table was short one chair and one table setting. “Mr. Butler, I’ll have to get you a stool and a service. Excuse me, everyone.”
Shafts went with her to carry the stool.
Neil, attempting to make nice, said, “Mr. Sterling, Olivia tells me you’re in the timber business.”
“I am.”
“A man could get rich shipping timber here. Not many trees on the plains.”
James said, “I noticed the lack on the ride here,” but said no more.
So much for small talk, Neil thought to himself.
Olivia and Shafts returned. She placed the plate and tableware on the counter near the sink, and Shaft set the high-legged stool beside it. Butler would have to eat apart, mostly because he deserved to and because the table was so crowded now that there wasn’t room for him.
Still keeping a wary eye on Teresa over by the door, Eunice said to Olivia, “You’ve set a lovely table.”
“Thank you.” Olivia had used her best tablecloth and her company china and tableware. The centerpiece, a tall lead glass vase, held the pink and white hollyhocks she’d carried as her wedding bouquet last evening. Had that really been only last night? Olivia felt like days had passed since then.
The small hourglass biscuit timer finally emptied itself, and Teresa took the biscuits out of the oven. They were fat and beautifully browned, and the aroma added to the kitchen’s fragrant air.
When Teresa took her seat, James Sterling said, “Shall we say grace?” He looked across the table at Olivia and asked pointedly, “You do still say grace, don’t you?”
Olivia didn’t flinch. “Yes, Papa. And I attend church every Sunday.”
James turned his eyes to Neil. “Mr. July, would you do the honors.”
Silence.
Olivia simmered. Everyone in the room knew that her father assumed Neil knew nothing about such things and was attempting to embarrass her husband. She was not happy about it. She made a move to say something but was touched on the arm by Shafts sitting beside her. He gave her a tiny shake of his head and directed her attention back to the encounter.
Neil held James Sterling’s mocking eyes and knew that the other man was certain he had Neil over a barrel. Apparently, Butler thought so too, if the snicker he’d just let out was any indication.
Neil ignored Butler, but Teresa placed her hand atop Olivia’s and pleaded, “Please let me shoot him. Please.”
Olivia wanted him shot now, too, but she told her sister-in-law, “Later.”
Neil and James were still staring each other down like opposing gunslingers. Neil said finally, “Let’s bow our heads.”
Olivia could see the sarcastic little smile on her father’s face.
Neil began. “‘And Solomon made affinity with Pharaoh king of Egypt, and took Pharaoh’s daughter and brought her into the city of David.’”
He raised his eyes to James, and in the shocked silence that followed, added, “‘Blessed be the Lord my strength which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.’ Amen.”
Eunice couldn’t have looked more stunned had she encountered a talking rabbit. James’s chin was thrust out angrily; it was obvious he’d not expected to be so eloquently shown up and put in his place. Olivia was certainly floored. She knew the Preacher often quoted the Bible, but Neil? Shafts had a look of quiet amusement on his handsome Comanche face. Teresa threw a mocking glance at Horatio Butler.
Olivia met her husband’s sparkling eyes. “Thank you, Neil.”
“Anytime.”
As everyone began filling their plates, Eunice continued to stare openmouthed at the Bible-quoting badman married to her daughter.
James Sterling had little to say during the meal, but Eunice attempted to keep the gathering on an even keel by making small talk about the goings-on back in Chicago and the disposition of some of Olivia’s friends. “You remember Doris Carson, don’t you, dear?”
Olivia did. They’d sung together in the church choir. “How is she?”
“She had twin boys in April.”
“Oh, my. I must send her a belated christening gift.”
“That would be wonderful.”
Neil realized that in the scheme of things, the rough-and-tumble Julys had no business breaking bread with the elegant Sterlings, but the scheme had been set on its ear when Olivia had proposed they marry. Neil watched and listened as she talked with her mother. Olivia was the rarest, most brilliant light in his life, and he planned to enjoy that radiance for as long as Olivia kept him around, whether her parents approved of him or not.
When the meal was finished, James Sterling said, “Olivia, I would like to speak with you, if I might. Privately, if you don’t mind, Mr. July.”
Neil glanced over at Olivia. She gave him a short nod of approval, so Neil said, “Be my guest.”
Olivia stood. “Let’s step outside, Papa.”
Father and daughter headed out the door, and the remaining people in the room eyed their departure silently.
Outside, on the porch, Olivia noted that the gray skies were gone. Now that the day was ending, the sun had finally broken through and was sinking into the horizon like a brilliant red-and-orange jewel. She glanced over at her father’s wintry face. “Come, walk with me.”
He stepped off the porch and they walked out into the prairie. For a time there was silence, then Olivia asked, “Do you remember the day I received my certificate from Oberlin?”
“Of course.”
She thought back. “It was a beautiful blue-sky day, and you seemed so proud.”
“I was very proud.”
“You encouraged me in everything I’d ever attempted to do. You insisted
I read the weekly papers, that I familiarize myself with Shakespeare and the writings of Fred Douglass. You even made me stand up for myself when the boys in the school named me The Giraffe.”
She saw the small smile that momentarily crossed his lips, then she added sincerely, “All that I am is because of you. Mama taught me the womanly things like committee work, how to dress, and how to set a table. But you, Papa, you gave me all the things I am inside.”
She held his eyes. “Yet in light of all of that, you arrange a marriage for me with someone like Horatio Butler? How could you?”
He looked away.
“Butler doesn’t care that I can balance a ledger, or read, or even think, for that matter.”
“I’m your father. I’m supposed to provide for you.”
“I am aware of that,” she conceded earnestly, “but you raised me to provide for myself, Papa. When Mrs. Barth died and left me the building and business, you loaned me the funds I needed to make repairs. Why would you then turn around and give my hand to a man determined to sell that business as soon as the ink dried on the marriage certificate?”
“Girls your age are supposed to be married.”
“Many successful women go to their graves without the benefit of a husband.”
“I didn’t want that for you. It’s so hard being a woman on her own.”
Olivia saw the truth in his eyes. “And I appreciate that as well.”
“But you married an outlaw, Olivia. A wanted man.”
“To keep from marrying Mr. Butler, I would have married the town drunk had there been one around.”
“Olivia!” he gasped, scandalized.
“I’m sorry, Papa, there’s no sense in me lying. I fled to Kansas, for heaven’s sake. That should be an indication of how upset I was.”
He looked up at the sky for a few silent moments, then back down into her face. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.”
“I understand that. I just wish you had broached the subject with me beforehand.”
He thinned his lips. “In hindsight, I wish I had too. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in such a scandalous marriage.”
“Neil’s a good man, Papa.”
“He drew his gun on me!”
“He thought you were trying to harm me. I did, too.”
“I was very angry.”
“Yes, you were.”
James sighed his frustration. “You’re not going to admit you were at fault in any of this, are you?”
“My only fault was in sneaking out in the middle of the night. I apologize for worrying you.”
“And for marrying a man no one back home is going to accept? What about that?”
“I don’t care about the folks back home. Henry Adams is my home now.”
He studied her as if seeing her for the first time. “What happened to my modest, always-obedient daughter?”
“She’s grown up. Just like you raised her to do.”
“I’ll never accept him in our lives.”
Olivia was disappointed by that statement, although it was expected. Neil was an outlaw, after all. “Then let’s go back inside,” she said quietly, “because never is a very long time.”
As they reentered the kitchen, Olivia saw the questions in her mother’s eyes and in Neil’s. Olivia shrugged. Her mother looked disappointed by the response. Neil’s face was emotionless.
Later, as Olivia and Neil lay together in the bed in the dark, she said, “I did my best with Papa, but he’s determined to believe this is all my fault.”
“He’s your father. If I had a daughter and she married a man like me, I’d be concerned, too.”
“Would you?”
“Yep. I’d be concerned about all the screaming and hollering she might be doing.”
Olivia grinned. “I was trying to be serious.”
“I am being serious.”
They listened to the silence for a moment, and then she said, “Your Bible quoting surprised me. My parents too, by the way my mother’s jaw dropped.”
“Thank the government Indian schools. When they weren’t calling us savages, they were making us pray. For hours on end.”
“Doesn’t sound like you enjoyed school.”
“Nope. I’d run away, they’d hunt me down. I’d run again, they’d drag me back. After awhile they threw up their hands and I went home for good.”
“Where was the school?”
“Army fort about sixty miles away from the Texas border. Soldiers rode into the village one day and rounded up the children like cattle. Our parents had no idea where they were taking us. The soldiers told them nothing more than the children had to go to school.”
He went silent for a moment, then said softly, “I’d never been away from my parents, not even for a night. None of us had.”
“Must have been frightening.”
“It was, some cried the entire way.” He turned so he could see her face. “I was one of them.”
“How old were you?”
“Almost ten.”
He went on to tell Olivia about his first days there. “There were many children from many tribes, and before we were allowed to enter the buildings, those with long hair had it cut and their braids were tossed in a pile on the grounds behind the school. I remember children on their knees begging to keep their hair.”
Olivia listened in silence.
“Then the little medicine bags our mothers had placed around our necks for protection were taken, along with our clothing, ear ornaments. Everything tied to our lives as members of our tribes was placed in that pile and burned.”
Olivia turned to him in shock. “My Lord,” she whispered.
“We weren’t allowed to speak the language of our parents—only English. You were punished if you did. I saw a teacher throw a young Apache across a room and into a wall for speaking Indian to his friend. Broke his collarbone.”
She shook her head in sadness and disbelief. “No wonder you ran away.”
“Again and again, and again.”
Neil pulled her to him and kissed her on the neck. He was finding that holding her eased the pain of the past. It was his hope that if he held onto her long enough, he might one day heal. “Enough about that.” He slid his hand over a nightgown-covered breast and whispered in her ear, “How about some screaming and hollering?”
She grinned, and then purred, as the warmth of his hand slid her gown up over her hips. “Thought you’d never ask…”
Chapter 15
Olivia was in her office the next morning studying the town’s ledgers. She and the snippy male clerks in Topeka were still going back and forth over the town’s tax bill. The numbers were in dispute because the clerks refused to consider the possibility that their calculations might be wrong. Tossing the ledger aside, she thought about her parents. Her hopes that she could somehow breach the chasm that divided them had not borne fruit. Last night her father had left her house as stone-faced as he’d been upon arriving. Apparently her attempts to explain herself had not swayed him, and she was sorry for that, because she did love her father.
Tomorrow’s visit by Judge Parker also weighed heavily on her mind. How severe a sentence would he hand down? Would the decision prompt Neil to flee? In spite of all the Wanted posters and myths surrounding her husband, with Olivia the infamous Neil July had been nothing but kind and gentle. He’d shown concern for both her welfare and her reputation. He was funny, intelligent, and he could waltz. Throw in his dazzling lovemaking and he was a man worthy enough for any woman in the nation—except when you factored in the train-robbing past. That was the factor Judge Parker would be coming tomorrow to rule upon. Olivia was afraid of what the outcome might be.
Chase and the lawmen were down at Sophie’s using their muscles to move chairs and tables around so that her main dining room could be transformed into a makeshift courtroom. Rumor had it that the entire town would be on hand for tomorrow’s trial, and Sophie hoped to accommodate everyone who wanted to attend.
“Good morning, Olivia.”
“Horatio.”
He scanned the small office. “You share this space with the sheriff?”
“I do.”
He walked over and gave the lone cell a quick survey before turning back. “Quaint.”
Olivia had no idea why he was here, but she wanted him gone. “May I help you?”
“I came to ask how much longer you are going to continue this farce.”
“What farce?”
“This so-called marriage of yours.”
“I don’t consider it farcical, and neither does my husband.”
“He’s a cold-blooded killer, Olivia. He’s barely housebroken.”
She waited.
“I understand that you were uncomfortable with my marriage proposal, but many women are unhappy with the arrangements made by their parents. They accept it. They don’t run off to Kansas to pout.”
Olivia chuckled sarcastically, “You think I’m pouting?”
“Yes. Your father has indulged you all of your life. It’s all that unconventional education that has you confused about your role in life.”
“And that role is?”
“To turn your life over to your husband.”
“You mean turn my bank accounts over to my husband, don’t you?”
His mustached lips curled. “A man is better equipped mentally to handle financial issues. That’s simply the way life is.”
“Have you met Armstead Malloy?”
When he looked confused, she waved the question away with a dismissive hand. “Never mind. You were saying?”
He was genuinely angry now. “Were you my wife or daughter I’d take a stick to you for all this insolence.”
Olivia picked up her handbag. “Well, seeing as how I’m neither, I have an appointment.”
Something Like Love Page 23