Kansas Courtship

by Victoria Bylin

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “All right, we’ll stay a minute. But I want to talk to you alone.”

  “Zeb!” Cassandra’s voice rose to a whine. “Hurry up!”

  When he grimaced, Nora smiled. “She’s determined, isn’t she?”

  “Very,” he said dryly.

  Together they walked to a circle that included Cassandra and Percy, Winnie Morrow and Will and Emmeline Logan. Several feet away she saw the Benjamins chatting with Clint, who looked uncomfortable in a starched collar. Nora looked for Bess and spotted her on the outer edge of a group of children playing tag. She recognized Johnny and Glory Carter, the younger siblings of Emmeline and Bess. When a girl with pigtails caught Johnny, Bess clapped, but made no other sound.

  Will waved at Zeb, motioning them forward. Percival stepped closer to Cassandra to make room for them. As Cassandra beamed, Winnie scanned the crowd as if looking for someone else. Several feet behind her, Nora saw Clint watching Cassandra’s back with a dark expression. When Rebecca said something to him, he shook his head and turned to leave.

  When Mrs. Jennings joined Rebecca and Pete, Zeb called to him. “Clint! Come over here.”

  The cowboy gave a tight shake of his head, tugged his hat low and headed for his horse. He swung into the saddle with an angry grace, turned the bay and galloped out of town.

  Nora wished he’d accepted Zeb’s invitation. If he didn’t fight for Cassandra, he’d lose her to Percy. Nora thought of her own mixed feelings concerning Zeb. Did the same advice apply to her? As her mother had cautioned when she’d chosen medical college over dances, pride made for a lonely bed.

  Emmeline looked from Zeb to Nora with a question in her eyes. “Did you two enjoy the sermon?”

  “I did,” Zeb replied.

  Will’s brows shot up. “Did I hear that right?”

  Nora wondered about Will’s reaction until the rancher looked at her with a lopsided grin. “You have to know Zeb to understand why that’s a surprise. As long as I’ve known him, he’s slept through every sermon he’s heard.”

  “Not today.” Zeb spoke with authority. “If Noah were alive, I’d shake his hand.”

  Will looked at his friend thoughtfully. “Me, too.”

  Emmeline glanced in Bess’s direction, then turned to Nora. “Rebecca tells me Bess visits you. Thank you for helping her.”

  “I wish I could do more.” Nora focused on Emmeline. “As I mentioned when we met, I’ve written to a colleague in New York. He’s an expert in psychiatry.”

  “What’s that?” Cassandra asked.

  The subject had been among Nora’s favorites. “It’s the study and treatment of disorders of the mind.”

  Percival cleared his throat. “The field is just being explored, isn’t it?”

  “In this country, yes.”

  Zeb huffed with derision. Whether he’d aimed his opinion at Percy or herself, Nora couldn’t tell. Neither did she care. She respected Dr. Zeiss and hoped his work would help Bess.

  Cassandra looked at Percy with pride, then smiled at Nora. “Did you study psychiatry in medical college?”

  “I was privileged to study with Dr. Gunter Zeiss from Berlin. He’s an expert in the field.”

  Zeb said nothing. Emmeline looked doubtful and so did Will. Cassandra, taking a cue from Percival, tried to appear sophisticated. Nora wondered if she’d ever belong in this town. In New York she’d grown accustomed to doubt, so why did it hurt in High Plains?

  “Zeb! There you are!”

  Nora turned and saw Abigail Johnson approaching with her parents. Nora had met Mrs. Johnson, but Abe Johnson had been away when she’d visited the mercantile. She saw a portly man with flushed cheeks and a bulbous nose, signs of a skin disorder called acne rosacea. “Good morning,” she murmured as everyone exchanged greetings.

  Abigail gave her a cold smile. Mrs. Johnson refused to make eye contact. Mr. Johnson looked past her and clapped Zeb on the back. “How’s the town hall coming along?”

  “Fine.” Zeb shot Nora an irritated glance, then spoke to the others. “If you’ll excuse me, we were about to—”

  “You can’t leave,” Abigail insisted. “Didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?” he asked.

  “The jubilee committee is meeting right now.”

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Johnson said. “Abigail baked the pies herself. Mr. Johnson and I are leaving now to put on the coffee.”

  Mr. Johnson looked surprised, but he followed his wife without a word. Abigail stared at Zeb as if she had the right to ask questions. Nora watched Zeb for a reaction but didn’t see one. She wanted to know why he’d asked her to take a walk, but she’d understand if he backed out for a prior obligation.

  Without a glance in her direction, he spoke to Abigail. “I won’t be there.”

  “You have to come!” Abigail said with a pout. “We’re planning the games. We need a man’s perspective.” She turned to Cassandra and Emmeline. “Isn’t that right, ladies?”

  Cassandra gripped Percival’s elbow. “Percy and I will be glad to help.”

  He patted her hand. “Of course.”

  Emmeline shook her head. “My mother’s feeling poorly. Will and I have to get home.”

  Cassandra looked at Nora. “You’ll come to the meeting, won’t you? We need new ideas, especially ideas from New York.”

  Nora didn’t want to be labeled an Eastern debutante, but neither did she want to be unfriendly. Abigail wanted to keep her away from Zeb, and Zeb looked fit to be tied. An excuse seemed in order. “I’d love to, but Carolina’s expecting me.”

  “Of course,” Abigail said too eagerly.

  Cassandra bounced on her toes. “Please, Nora.” It came out in a whine. “You’re the only person I know with a Godey’s Lady’s Book.”

  Abigail snickered. “We don’t need a magazine to plan the jubilee.”

  Nora would have been glad to leave graciously, but she refused to be chased off by Abigail. She also wanted to be part of the community. Working on the jubilee would be a way to make friends. She smiled at the group. “I’d be glad to volunteer.”

  Abigail shot daggers with her eyes. Nora glanced at Zeb. Instead of irritation, she saw amusement dancing in his green irises. She didn’t know if he liked boxing, but he looked like an enthusiast on his way to a match. Fine, Nora thought. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d fought to be accepted.

  Abigail wormed her way in next to Zeb. “Everyone’s here, so let’s go.”

  Nora hung back, but Zeb motioned for her to walk at his side. Ignoring him, she paired off with Winnie and followed behind Cassandra and Percy. After saying goodbye to Will and Emmeline, the six of them strolled down Main Street to the mercantile. Outside stairs led to an apartment stuffed with a sofa, two curio cabinets, a dining room table and mismatched rugs. Nora figured the Johnsons had owned a big house in Massachusetts and planned to build again, but the current arrangement made for a gaudy display.

  Abigail dropped down on an armchair upholstered with rose-colored silk. “Please, everyone, sit down.”

  Winnie sat with Percy and Cassandra on the sofa. Abigail indicated that Zeb should take the seat on her right. Everyone except Nora had a place in the circle. She spotted a spindly chair off to the side and moved in that direction.

  “Hold it,” Zeb said to her back.

  Nora turned and saw him holding out the chair next to Abigail. She had no desire to take the spot meant for him, but he’d already detoured to the little chair and was carrying it into the circle. He set it down next to the seat meant for him, putting Nora directly between himself and Abigail. Smiling politely, she smoothed her skirts and sat. As Zeb sat on the side chair, it creaked.

  Abigail disguised her irritation by starting the meeting. “Considering how hard Zeb’s worked to finish the town hall, I want the jubilee to be spectacular.”

  Zeb shifted in the chair. It creaked again. “It’s not my hard work, Abigail. The whole town is chipping in.”


  “Don’t be modest,” she insisted. “Without you, we’d all be living in tents. High Plains wouldn’t be on the map. You’re one of the founding fathers. You’re—”

  “I’m just one person,” he said. “It’s like Noah and the ark. Will and I captained the ship, but everyone helped.”

  No wonder Zeb had enjoyed the sermon. He understood storms.

  Winnie glanced from Zeb to Abigail. “Everyone’s helped with the town hall. I see Edward Gunderson there almost every day.”

  “Edward’s a good man,” Zeb acknowledged.

  Winnie’s expression turned wistful, a sure sign that she liked the man. Nora wondered why Edward, Pete and Rebecca hadn’t joined the circle after church, and why Rebecca wasn’t included in planning the jubilee, then she recalled Mrs. Johnson’s ugly accusations after the tornado. The cook had wisely kept her distance. With a little luck, she’d have her revenge by winning the baking contests.

  Cassandra looked at her brother. “I’m tired of dust and dirt and old clothes. Instead of opening the town hall with an afternoon social, let’s have a dance.”

  The girl looked to Nora for support, but Nora had no desire to take sides. She enjoyed dancing, but she preferred long walks to noisy parties.

  Abigail smiled at Zeb. “That’s a wonderful idea! My father plays the fiddle. I’m sure we can find some other musicians.”

  Cassandra looked up at Percival. “It won’t be as nice as an orchestra, but we’ll have fun.”

  “I suppose,” Percy replied.

  Nora owed him for finding her a house, but her opinion of the attorney sunk lower with his patronizing tone. Nora loved High Plains. Boston had ballets and intellectual pursuits, but High Plains had people with good hearts and big dreams.

  Zeb started tapping his boot in an ominous rhythm. Nora glanced to the side and saw him glaring at Percy. “What about games? Any ideas?”

  The attorney lifted a brow in challenge. “A test of strength, of course.”

  “Like what?” Zeb asked.

  “Arm wrestling.” Percy flexed his biceps.

  The gesture struck Nora as silly, but Cassandra looked ready to swoon. If Zeb had an opinion, he kept it to himself. Instead, he turned to Abigail. “I’ll set up a log-sawing contest. Pete can help with horseshoes.”

  Nora thought of Rebecca and decided to chime in. “How about a baking contest? Maybe for the best pie?”

  “And pie eating,” Winnie added.

  Nora smiled. “Alex would like that one. How about something for the younger children?”

  Abigail looked smug. “Don’t trouble yourself, Dr. Mitchell. I’ve already planned something for the children.”

  Cassandra interrupted. “I’m the teacher. You said I’d—”

  Abigail glared a warning. “I said it’s handled.”

  Nora knew a fib when she heard one. The blonde hadn’t done a thing for the children. The woman’s expression turned thoughtful, then she looked straight at Nora. “If you really want to help, there is something you could do.”

  Nora sensed trouble. “What do you have in mind?”

  “We’re going to have a mess after the pie-eating contest. Someone might even be sick.” She looked straight at Nora. “You can be in charge of clean-up.”

  The insult bounced off Nora like a drop of rain. She’d heard worse. “If that’s what you need, I’d be glad to do it.”

  Cassandra gaped at Abigail. Percy arched a brow, and Winnie looked confused. Silence reigned until a rumble started in Zeb’s throat. It grew in intensity until all eyes were on him and he turned to Nora. “No, you won’t,” he said in low tone. “I’m in charge of cleanup.”

  Abigail huffed. “You can’t be. Cleanup is women’s work.”

  Nora didn’t know whether to pity Abigail for her lack of sense, or to challenge her bigotry. In Nora’s experience, messes were like suffering. They had no gender.

  Zeb wrinkled his brow, then stared at Percival. “What do you think, Percy? Shall we stick the ladies with hauling trash?”

  “Of course not,” he said gallantly. “We’ll hire someone. Maybe that cowboy—”

  Zeb cut him off. “Clint’s helping me.”

  All eyes turned to Nora. She appreciated Zeb’s effort on her behalf, but she didn’t want to add to Abigail’s hostility by siding with him. To avoid more bickering, she pushed to her feet. “I’ll be glad to do anything, but I can’t stay any longer.” She focused on Cassandra. “Will you let me know what the group decides?”

  “Of course, but—”

  Nora held up her hand. “I’ll do whatever has to be done.”

  As she stood, so did the men. Nora turned to Abigail. Good manners called for a polite goodbye, but Abigail’s insults had to be addressed. Nora spoke in a drawing room tone she’d used with professors. “Thank you, Miss Johnson, for your hospitality. I can’t remember the last time I felt this welcome anywhere. In fact, I’ve never met anyone with such a gracious demeanor.”

  With a dip of her chin, Nora glanced around the room. Cassandra looked pleased and so did Winnie. Percival’s brows had shot up and were locked in place. Last, she looked at Zeb. His mouth stayed straight, but his eyes were dancing with laughter. He’d wanted a fight and he’d gotten one. But who had he been rooting for? Nora didn’t know and she didn’t care. At least that’s what she told herself as she headed for the door.

  No one moved as it closed behind her. She needed to go home to Alex, but she didn’t want to see him with her temper high. Zeb had promised her a walk by the river. Leaving him to Abigail, she decided to take the walk alone.

  Zeb gave Nora a ten-minute head start, then excused himself from the silly meeting. He’d have run after her when she left, but he knew how spiteful Abigail could be. She’d start ugly rumors. Matilda would launch an all-out attack, and Nora would have more problems than she did now. Zeb didn’t like the idea of a woman doctor any more than he had a few weeks ago, but he had to admire the way she’d stood up to Abigail’s snobbery.

  He didn’t want to look too closely at the reason he’d bristled on Nora’s behalf, but he couldn’t deny the reaction. He thought of the apology he owed her and tensed again. Irritated by everything, he shoved to his feet. “I’m leaving. I have work to do.”

  Abigail sulked. “But Zeb. We haven’t had pie.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “But I’m not finished!” she whined.

  Yes, you are. And in more ways than one. No way could he consider marrying Abigail after today’s little show. The woman had a mean streak just like her mother. Will was right. Zeb had been crazy to consider such a plan.

  “Work comes first,” he said, dismissing her.

  He went to Nora’s house, knocked politely and learned from Carolina that she hadn’t come home. He wondered if she’d gone to the river. Determined to speak with her, he cut across the meadow to the path that led to the mill. He spotted her near the waterfall, perched on a flat stone with her back to him. The river muffled his steps, giving him time to gauge her mood as he sauntered down the path. She sat ramrod straight, but her shoulders had a feminine grace. She looked at ease, but he suspected the battle with Abigail had exacted a price. Zeb knew how he reacted after a quarrel. He was prickly for hours.

  He felt prickly now, but not from anger. Unaware of his presence, Nora poked a finger into her coiffure and scratched an itch. She must have missed the spot, because she raised her arms and unpinned her hat. Turning slightly, she set the hat on the rock and removed a pin. A loop of hair fell to her shoulder.

  Suddenly transfixed, he watched the sun turn her hair into copper. With the waterfall pounding in his ears, he imagined the loose curls tumbling down her back. Somewhere in the past two weeks, he’d stopped disliking this woman and had become intrigued. Except for Will and Pete, people in High Plains did what he said. Nora stood up to him without hesitation. He didn’t trust her medical skills and doubted she’d stay in Kansas, but he had to admire her spirit. He also had to make his pre
sence known before she caught him looking and accused him of bad manners.

  He raised his voice to be heard over the river. “Hey, Doc. Got an itch?”

  She shot to her feet and faced him. The hank of loose hair bounced like a spring until she tucked it above her ear. “You were spying on me!”

  “No, I wasn’t.” He ambled forward. “If I’d been spying, I wouldn’t have spoken up.”

  Hatless, she looked less like Dr. Mitchell and more like Nora. He wasn’t sure what to call her, but she’d assumed a formal pose. A breeze caught the tendril behind her ear and tugged it loose. It must have tickled, because she jammed it deeper into her coiffure, then looked at him with an expression that was all business.

  “You wanted to speak to me,” she said evenly.

  “I do,” he said. “But first I’ve got to hand it to you, Doc. That tongue of yours is sharper than my best saw.”

  He was trying to be friendly, but her expression hardened. “What do you mean?”

  “You put Abigail in her place. She had it coming.”

  Nora raised her chin. “I took no pleasure in the exchange, Mr. Garrison. It was a silly argument.”

  “I rather enjoyed it.” Hoping to show his goodwill, he grinned.

  She answered with a cold stare.

  The expression irked him. He wanted to laugh with her about the silliness, maybe hear a thank-you for how he’d stepped in. In Zeb’s view, Abigail had earned her comeuppance.

  Come to think of it, so had he. He still owed Nora amends. After wiping the smirk off his face, he approached her. His shadow fell across the hem of her dress, turning the copper to a dull brown.

  She stepped back into the sun, causing the grass to wave at her feet. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  “We had plans.”

  “For what? Another quarrel?” She sighed with disgust. “I’ve had enough bickering for one day. That includes arguing with you about my competence as a physician.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.” He held out his hand to indicate the rock. “Sit. This won’t take long.”

  “I’d rather stand.”