by Emily Woods
James was taken aback by the very forward attitude.
Mr. Langston’s eyes were dark, beady. He was attempting to hold his anger back, like an angry bull in a pen.
“No, that is not at all what I am saying – ” James said hastily.
“Because I will have you know, sonny,” Mr. Langston said, his voice deep and gravely, “that my daughters are the most important thing in my life, and I will not, I repeat, will not, have some lay-about fool trying to whisk them off their feet just to break their hearts in the end.”
James blinked a few times, shaking his head to clear it.
“Mr. Langston …” he started.
He glanced around. There were some townsfolk out about their business, but he knew very well all of their attention was on them, straining to catch the slightest hint of what they were speaking about.
“Please, Mr. Langston. Come inside. Let’s talk about this out of the sun.”
“I am perfectly fine right where I am,” Mr. Langston replied, not moving an inch.
“Very well,” James said, his heart thudding uncomfortably against his ribs. “Mr. Langston, I assure you it has never been my intention to harm your daughter in any way.” He hoped his voice sounded even and calm, because he certainly did not feel that way. Inside, he was writhing about, confused and infuriated all at once about Marigold, his affections toward her, and now her father, a man he truly respected.
Mr. Langston grunted, apparently unconvinced.
“I came all the way out here to answer your call for a physician,” James replied, his confidence beginning to return. “I have done just that. And I have done it well. I have helped to bring health and modern medicine to a town that has a difficult time reaching any sort of city outside of itself. And Mr. Langston, I have been very happy to do so.”
Mr. Langston appeared to be listening, so James pressed on.
“Your daughter has been a wonderful blessing for me. A friend. She has brightened my days and offered help when I most needed it. She has taught me a great deal about living in a place like this that is so very different from where I come from. She has been invaluable, and I am forever indebted to her.”
There was, of course, much more than that, but his relationship with Marigold did not have to be an entirely public matter. What he told Mr. Langston was the truth.
It did not help that he was still not entirely sure how Marigold felt about him. He knew she saw him as a friend; that much was apparent through her actions and frequent visits to the clinic. But any more than that, and he didn’t know.
He wanted to believe there was a sort of mutual attraction between them. He certainly could not deny that he was developing real feelings for her. It was desperately hard not to. She was stunning, inside and out. She loved the Lord, and she had such big hopes and dreams for the future. Her smile was contagious, and her way of life optimistic.
He had never met another woman like her, and he was certain he never would again.
Not for the first time, he wondered how much he should pursue it. He feared it was still too soon, too fragile of a thing. He knew the entire thing could fizzle out just as quickly as it had begun, especially if he said or did the wrong thing.
And now here was her father, attempting to get involved in something that really did not even exist. At least not yet.
“Whatever your thoughts are about her, I think it would be in your best interest to remember your most important job here is to be the doctor to the people of Bear Springs, to people like Mr. Green. Not chasing skirts.”
His words struck James like a large stone. Did Mr. Langston truly think so little of him? Had this been his opinion of him all along, but he was just pretending to be amiable and welcoming?
“Where is all of this coming from? I thought you knew me better than this …” James said quietly. “This whole change in attitude … I’m hurt that you think so little of me.”
Mr. Langston withdrew slightly, but ignored James’s words all the time.
“Get over to the Green’s ranch. He needs you, and I don’t want to be responsible for your delay. Just remember what I said. And if you decide otherwise, you are going to have to answer to me and you’ll be looking at a one way ticket out of town.”
And with that, Mr. Langston turned and stalked off up the road, not looking back.
James stood there, dumbfounded.
What had started as such a wonderful day had cascaded into a torrent of confusion and rage.
How was it that Mr. Langston was treating James as if he was some sort of scoundrel? Up until that point, he did nothing but sing his praises to everyone in the town. He was nothing but gracious, encouraging. Thankful for all of the work James did.
James could understand being protective of his children. Every man was. But was James really all that bad of a match for Marigold? Did he really believe James should not get involved with her?
He watched Mr. Langston mount his horse outside of the saloon before riding back in the direction of his ranch, the amber dust billowing out behind him as he went.
James was roiling. It didn’t make any sense, not a lick of it.
He stepped inside his clinic and stood just inside the door, not wishing to field questions from anyone who may have just seen what had occurred.
Mr. Green needed his attention as well.
“Supplies. I’ll need salves. Poultices. Maybe a sprig of rosemary or two.”
He had never formed the thought in his mind that he wished to be with Marigold, but now as it was presented to him, he couldn’t see it any other way. Of course he wanted to be with her. Why else was he allowing himself to be so enraptured by her?
What Mr. Langston was saying sounded like a threat, and he had to admit it frightened him. He remembered Marv, the saloon bartender, saying something about how protective Mr. Langston was about his girls.
He gathered the medical supplies he might need into his bag – Mr. Langston had told him nothing about Mr. Green’s condition – and felt guilty that he had dawdled so long in his own problems. He was just going to prove Mr. Langston wrong if he didn’t go and help him as soon as possible.
Coming to a decision and satisfied with his supplies, he stepped outside and crossed the street to the saloon. He was grateful to see it was nearly deserted inside. Still early in the afternoon, most people were still finishing chores at their ranch house.
“Doctor Connor,” he heard.
He looked up to see Marv standing behind the bar, a large chicken in one arm. The chicken’s head swiveled to look at him as he approached.
“Hey, Marv.”
“You been to see Mr. Green yet?”
“Heading there now,” he said, looking to make sure the couple at the far table was not eavesdropping. “But I had to ask you a question before I left.”
“What’s that?” Marv said. The chicken cooed in his arms.
“When I first got here … you said Mayor Langston was very protective of his daughters, right?”
“Right you are,” Marv said, nodding his head. “Those girls are more precious than anything to him in this entire world.”
“Yes,” James said, already feeling as if it was a mistake to come here. “Well, what do you think he might do if someone were to say … I don’t know … attempt to pursue one of his girls?”
Marv’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t seem angry. “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “It’s only happened once before. And it didn’t end very well.”
Fear flared in James as he took a step closer to the counter. “What do you mean?”
Marv scratched his chin with his free hand. “He basically forced the poor lad out of town. Gave him a choice, really. Said he either stop his advances or he could leave town.”
James could guess how it ended.
“Why do you ask?” Marv questioned.
“Just curious,” James replied, trying to force a smile. He sighed and patted the bag in his hands. “Well, I better be going. Better see to M
r. Green before his wife comes for my head.”
Marv waved dismissively. “Old Barney will be fine. He’s been in worse scrapes than this.”
Slightly relieved, James thanked Marv and stepped out into the hot sun.
So, this had happened before, had it? Threats of expulsion from the village. Was Mr. Langston truly that against his daughters’ happiness?
If that was what would make Marigold happy, he realized with a pang of guilt. He had no idea what it was she wanted, nor when he might even get the chance to ask her.
As he walked up the path to Mr. and Mrs. Green’s home, he asked himself if it really was worth being interested in Marigold in the first place. Would pursuing her be worth the wrath of Mayor Langston?
“Oh good, there you are, Doctor Connor,” Mrs. Green said, clutching the broach at her neck when she opened the door. “Come in, come in.”
“My deepest apologies, Mrs. Green,” James replied. He decided the truth would be the best option. “Marigold Langston had prepared a wonderful lunch for me, and we had stepped out of the clinic to enjoy it on a day as nice as this.”
Mrs. Green’s anxious face softened, and she pat James affectionately on the arm.
“Oh, I did hope Marigold would find a man as fine as you,” she said, leading him into the bedroom.
“Oh no, Mrs. Green. You misunderstand – ”
“Did you hear that, Barney? Marigold has finally found herself a good man.”
Mr. Green, who was stretched out in bed as green as a toad, lifted his head slightly as they entered.
“Who is that, darling?” he asked weakly, mopping his sweaty forehead with a damp cloth.
“Well, Doctor Connor here,” she said.
James swallowed hard, but found it hard to be displeased at their excitement.
“Oh, well, isn’t that sweet,” Mr. Green said, a genuine smile crawling up his face.
“Enough about me,” James replied, trying to fight off a smile of his own as he took a seat in a chair beside Mr. Green’s bed. “Let’s take a look at you and see if we can’t get you feeling better.”
When he left an hour later with the diagnosis of a nasty head cold and a prescription for rest and a large amount of Mrs. Green’s noodle soup, he was feeling far more optimistic about life, his choices, and his relationship with Marigold.
He did, however, do his best to ignore Mr. Langston’s words in the back of his head. He realized he should probably take them more seriously, but he was too pleased that someone else aside from himself believed he was a good match for Marigold.
Chapter 3
The sun set in a brilliant array of reds and golds, but James was too disgruntled to appreciate it fully. No matter where he turned, no matter what he attempted to do to clear his thoughts, Marigold was there, painted across his mind’s eye. Her beauty was too much to deny. He could not bring himself to forget her.
He didn’t think he could if he tried.
The stars burst forth that evening like glimmering diamonds in the sky. The moon was large and full, bathing the ground below in a cool blue light.
For a long time, he sat out on his porch, rocking in his splintered rocking chair. He did not talk much to those who passed by. He tried to keep his mind clear, but it was a struggle.
Was this the Lord’s way of telling him he needed to go back to New York? That didn’t seem to make any sense, since he had been so sure the Lord’s plan was for him to stay there in Utah. And Marigold had helped him to make that decision.
No, that couldn’t be it.
He ate his dinner alone in his clinic and retired to his room early. He found one of his favorite books at the bottom of his trunk, taking solace in something comforting from home.
He would not fool himself. Life in New York was tough. He loved the people here in Bear Springs. This was truly the first obstacle he had faced since moving out here.
He stretched out on his bed, allowing himself to be carried away by the story. He knew it well and found he was able to concentrate, giving his tired mind some rest.
It was nearing midnight when he heard a few small taps on the window above his bed.
His eyes were sore and heavy lidded. He rubbed them and sat up, setting his book down on the bedside table.
He heard the tap again and gazed out of the glass into what he assumed was the darkness. He was startled to see another face peering in at him.
It was Marigold, her face bathed in the light from the large copper lantern she was carrying. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she waved with her other hand.
His heart skipped a beat.
“What in the world …” he muttered, then gestured for the side door to the clinic.
She met him there and was beaming at him when he pulled open the door.
“Marigold …” he said, breathless. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” she said. Her cheeks were flushed, but whether it was from excitement or the exertion of the long trip to the clinic he didn’t know. “I was just able to get away from the house. Father finally fell asleep.”
James stepped aside and ushered her in, looking around to see if anyone had been witness to her arrival. Confident she had not been seen, he closed the door behind her.
He turned to face her, and his heart hammered against his chest.
In the low, flickering light from the few candles around the room, she looked like an angel. She was smiling at him, and he could tell she was breathing heavily. Her hair was like spun gold, tumbling over her shoulders, soft and supple.
He took a step toward her, the thoughts of the past day rushing through him like a steam engine. If he had doubted himself at all that day, seeing her standing there before him told him he was not ready to let a chance with her go.
“James …” she said, her voice soft in the quiet room.
His heartbeat quickened.
Before he knew it, he had crossed the distance to her, wrapped his arms around her, and found his lips pressed against hers.
His head spun and his ears rung. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever known. He was burning and freezing at the same time. He was flying. He was sinking. His entire world had been flipped upside down.
Her lips were soft and warm against his. Gentle and earnest, he kissed her, fueling it with all of the emotions he had been experiencing that day. All of the joy of his time with her. All of his sadness at her departure. All of his determination to not allow her Father to stand between them.
He didn’t care what Mr. Langston thought about their relationship anymore. His condemnation was worth putting up with if he could have Marigold. She was too precious too lose, too rare of a woman.
He could have lingered there for hours, days even. Nothing in his life would ever be able to compare to this moment in the dark, warm room with Marigold.
When their lips parted, he rested his forehead against hers. He was certain he had never been so happy in his life nor as dizzy.
“Mr. Connor …” she said, panting. “I … I don’t know what to say …”
“You don’t have to say anything …” he said, tracing the tips of his fingers over the soft skin of her cheeks. He laid his palm there, his thumb gently caressing her cheekbone.
He gave himself a moment to clear his head, knowing he could easily get lost in her eyes or in another kiss just as easily as he had the first time.
He stood up straight, and when he opened his eyes, he saw her bright blue ones staring up at him, shining joyfully. Her face was flushed. Her hair was tousled. She was speechless.
With a pang of fear, her father’s face flashed across his mind, the anger darkening his expression. If he knew what had just transpired …
He might have not cared what Mr. Langston thought in the heat of the kiss, but now that he was allowing himself a moment to think, the logic and reality of it all caught up with him rather quickly.
“Marigold …” he said. “You shouldn’t be here. Your Father … he is going t
o be furious.”
Marigold’s face fell. “He already is furious. You saw that today. I am not leaving, Mr. Connor. We have to talk.”
James stared at her, fighting within himself. He didn’t want her to get into any more trouble, and if they were caught somehow, he knew accusations would be thrown around and Marigold’s integrity called into question.
Yet at the same time, hadn’t he wondered how she felt about him? Wasn’t her showing up at his home in the middle of the night, sharing a passionate kiss, a confirmation of his hopes?
He wanted to explore this and understand it. He wanted to know for sure.
“My father came home and told me you have no interest in me, Mr. Connor. He said you were very firm about how you thought I was too friendly. He said he wanted me to stop trying to befriend you.”
James frowned. James had indeed said they were friends and nothing more. But he knew, knew very well, that Mr. Langston was aware he had meant those words in kindness, not in anger as it seemed he made it sound.
“I did not believe him,” she said frankly, crossing her arms over her chest. She nodded her head firmly. “And that was why I had to come and speak with you.”
“It isn’t true, of course,” James said. “Well, not entirely.”
“Not entirely?”
“I told him we were friends and he had misread my advances.”
“So you haven’t been pursuing me?” she asked, crestfallen.
“No – Marigold, I didn’t know how you felt. For all I knew, you would not have reciprocated my feelings. I did not feel I should be having that conversation with your father instead of you.”
She looked down. “I understand.”
“He seemed very upset there could even be a chance I was interested in pursuing a relationship with you.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied. “I had to come here and speak to you away from him because this is not the first time this has happened. He has interfered before.”
“Marv mentioned something about that to me,” James said. “What happened exactly?”
Marigold was flustered. She took a seat at one of the chairs behind her, sighing heavily. “About three years ago, when I was just seventeen, my father welcomed a new family into town. The Morrisons. They were a rather large family, expanding the population size of the town by almost twice the original number. Some of them stayed here in Bear Springs, and a few other couples and their kids moved south to Ellisburg. An older boy, named Johnathon, stayed with his aunt and uncle, the Mr. and Mrs. Morrison you know. He wished to help them get their ranch established before following his parents and younger siblings.