Kansas Courtship

by Victoria Bylin

  He didn’t.

  She felt him standing behind her and saw his shadow mixing with hers at her feet. She wanted to love this man for better or for worse. She wanted to be his wife and raise their children in this town that had become her home.

  His voice came from over her shoulder. “Nora?”

  She swallowed hard, then turned. Before she could speak, Alex galloped up to her side. “Did you see us? We almost won!”

  She tousled his hair. “You did great.”

  When the boy looked at Zeb, so did Nora. He’d shaved this morning and was wearing a crisp shirt and his usual paisley vest. The crutches took nothing from his height. Hatless, he looked her full in the face.

  Alex interrupted. “Zeb, did you see us?”

  “I sure did.” He smiled at the boy, then dug in his pocket for a handful of pennies. “I need to speak to Dr. Nora. Why don’t you get yourself and Jonah some lemonade.”

  “Sure.” The boy took the coins, then looked at Nora. “Can I enter the pie-eating contest?”

  “You bet.” When he got a bellyache, she’d dose him with peppermint. That’s what doctors did. It’s what a mother did. As Alex scampered off with his friend, Nora followed him with her eyes, wishing she could run away so easily.

  Zeb waited in silence until she dared to look at him, then he aimed his chin down a path that led to the river. “Walk with me.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.” If they were spotted walking off alone, people would gossip.

  “I can handle it,” he said. “I think you can, too.”

  Her insides fluttered. What did he intend? A goodbye kiss? She couldn’t allow it, but neither could she leave without clearing the air between them. She nodded her agreement, then stepped past him, giving him her back so he couldn’t see her eyes. She walked twenty paces down the trail, leaving him in the dust as she’d do when she left with the Crandalls.

  She stopped and stared at the river. She couldn’t see the waterfall, but she felt the force of gravity. She wanted to throw herself into Zeb’s arms. She wanted to kiss him one last time and tell him she loved him. For once, though, she stifled her impulses. She could only do harm to them both.

  As she took a breath, she heard the thump of his crutches and turned. Zeb touched her arm. “Why are you leaving High Plains?”

  “You know why.” Her voice came out in a whisper.

  “Do I?”

  “Yes!” She couldn’t stand the heartache, the loss…the wrongness of Zeb marrying a woman he didn’t love. Even more painful, she couldn’t bear the thought of Abigail having his child. Her feelings exploded, and she shouted at Zeb. “I love you! You know that!” She knotted her fists over her heart and pressed, but it still hurt.

  His gaze didn’t waver. Neither did he speak.

  Nora surrendered to the fury she’d been holding inside for a solid week. “I can’t do it, Zeb! I can’t watch you marry Abigail and have children with her. I should be the mother of your children! We should be adopting Alex together. You love me, I know it! We belong together. But we can’t undo—”

  He cupped her chin and tilted her face to his. One crutch wobbled and fell, but he didn’t bother to catch it. “Nora, listen.”

  “I can’t, Zeb.” Tears flooded her eyes. “We can’t—”

  “I’m not marrying Abigail.”

  Air whooshed from her lungs. “You’re not?”

  “No, I’m not.” His voice rang with truth. “I never touched her. When I think of what she tried to do—” He clamped his lips tight, then steadied himself with a breath. “She thought I was going to die. She tried to blackmail me into marrying her by threatening to harm you.”

  “That’s appalling!”

  His irises flashed like fine crystal. “I told her to get out of your house. If there’s one thing I know about you, Dr. Mitchell, you’re capable of fighting your own battles.”

  “I am,” she said. “And you’re worth fighting for.”

  He stroked her cheek with his index finger. “This isn’t the buggy ride I promised you, and I can’t get down on one knee, but I don’t want to waste another minute. I love you, Nora. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” She threw her arms around him, holding them both steady as the crutches fell from his sides.

  He kissed her then. Gentle yet commanding, it left her with the worst case of poison ivy of her entire life. Pulling back, she laughed out loud. She’d have danced him in a circle, except he needed the crutches. She settled for holding him close as together they found a balance they’d share for the rest of their lives.

  Zeb could have held Nora in his arms all day. As strong as oak and as bold as her red hair, she nestled her head in the crook of his neck. It tickled. It teased, and it tempted…a temptation he welcomed with the woman God intended for his wife.

  Hugging her tight, he thought of the declaration he’d be making to the crowd. Just as he’d hoped, he’d be announcing wedding plans with Nora. His hunt for a wife was over.

  He smiled at her. “If you want a big wedding with your folks, I’m willing to wait. But I’d prefer something sooner.”

  “Me, too.” She blushed prettily. “How about next Saturday?”

  Zeb liked the idea, but he also enjoyed teasing her. “Six whole days? I don’t know if I can stand the wait.”

  “We’ll manage.” She planted a peck on his lips. “Now tell me something. What’s that big announcement I’m hearing about?”

  “Us,” he said.

  Humming softly, she nestled against him. “You were sure I’d say yes?”

  “I was sure I wanted to ask.” He kissed her temple. “I’d have done it in front of everyone if that’s what it took.”

  “I’m glad we were alone. I was so scared…” Safe in his arms, she told him about overhearing Abigail’s talk with the Prestons and Winnie’s comments. “When you told me to take the job in New York, I thought you were protecting me from embarrassment.”

  “No,” he said. “I wanted you to be happy, and I thought you wanted the job.” He paused, then added, “I was protecting myself, too. If you’d left, I couldn’t have stood it.”

  “I’m not leaving,” she said. “Not ever.”

  He kissed her again, sweetly. The wonder of it carried him to the future, but shouts and laughter brought him back to the moment. “Let’s go,” he said to his wife-to-be. “I don’t want to miss the arm-wrestling contest.”

  She looked puzzled. “Are you in it?”

  “No, but Clint is. If he wins, he’s going to ask Cassandra to marry him.”

  Nora wiggled out of his arms. “I don’t want to miss that!”

  He didn’t want to miss it, either. If Clint proposed and Cassandra came to her senses, he’d give her the biggest wedding Kansas had ever seen. First, though, Clint had to win.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As he balanced on one leg, Nora bent and fetched his crutches. Together they headed back to the crowd. A few people gave them questioning looks, but most smiled and waved. Zeb had an eye out for Abigail. He didn’t know what he’d say when their paths crossed, but he didn’t plan on being polite.

  “There you are!” Will called from several feet away. He had a blue ribbon pinned to his shirt and his arm around Emmeline’s waist. The brunette had a ribbon, too. She’d taken first place for arranging wildflowers. Next to her stood Rebecca with three blue ribbons pinned to her bodice. Zeb had to grin. Just about every woman in High Plains had entered one of the baking contests, including Mrs. Johnson. He heard them bragging about it. Rebecca had swept all three categories—pie, jam and bread—and she’d done it handily.

  His friends were standing at the edge of the crowd waiting for the arm-wrestling contest to begin. When the women noticed Nora at his side, their mouths gaped with curiosity and Will’s brows shot up.

  Zeb grinned at Nora. “This is going to be fun.”

  “What is?” she asked.


  He hooked one arm around her waist, kissed her sweetly on the lips, then looked at his friends. “If that doesn’t answer your question, I’ll do it again. We’re getting married.”

  Emmeline ran to Nora and hugged her. So did Rebecca. As the women chattered, Zeb maneuvered closer to Will. “Remember that idiot who wouldn’t hire a lady doctor?”

  “I sure do.”

  “He’s dead and gone,” Zeb replied.

  “That’s good news,” Will answered. “Considering the rumor I heard, I was worried about you.”

  “Abigail’s a liar.” Zeb looked at Nora with the same calf-eyed expression he’d seen on Will’s face when he talked about Emmeline, and on Pete’s face when he bragged about Rebecca. He’d come a long away from doing battle with “Dr. N. Mitchell.” In a few days, she’d be Dr. Garrison and he liked the sound of it.

  He wanted to tell Cassandra, so he skimmed the crowd. In her candy-pink dress and white bonnet, she’d stand out among folks wearing denim and muslin. Instead of spotting his sister, he saw the Johnsons. As the owners of the mercantile, they were usually surrounded by folks wanting to impress them. Today Zeb could see a ring of grass around them, as if an invisible wall had been built. Mrs. Johnson looked as smug as ever, but Abigail seemed to be hiding her shame under a floppy bonnet.

  The irony struck Zeb full force. Abigail had been the victim of her own gossip. It seemed a fitting judgment for how she and her mother had treated others, especially Rebecca.

  To Zeb’s surprise, Abigail broke from her parents and walked in his direction. Smelling trouble, he wedged the crutches tight, hooked his arm around Nora’s waist and pulled her close. No way would he let Abigail harass Nora. If she wanted to tell more lies, she could deal with him.

  Abigail diverted her gaze to Nora, but she kept approaching. Nora was congratulating Rebecca and didn’t see her, so Zeb murmured into her ear, “Don’t look now, but here comes trouble.”

  Nora turned and saw Abigail. “I see.”

  “If she starts anything, she’ll get an earful,” he muttered.

  “Let her talk,” Nora advised.

  Abigail reached them in ten steps. She greeted Will, Emmeline and Rebecca, then faced Zeb. “May I speak with you in private?”

  “Right here’s fine,” he said in full voice. “And you can say your piece in front of my fiancée.”

  “Of course.” Abigail spoke in a hush. “Whatever you want.”

  Not once had Zeb heard this woman sound contrite, but she had that tone now. She could barely look at him. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Zeb. But I want you to know, I’m truly sorry.”

  Was she sorry she’d lied, or sorry she’d been caught? He said nothing.

  Abigail focused on Nora. “I lied about everything. Zeb never even kissed me. I saw him falling in love with you. I was jealous.”

  “There’s more,” he said through gritted teeth. “You wanted my money and my good name.”

  “That’s true.” She looked him in the eye. “You were my only chance for a decent husband. Just how decent, I didn’t realize until I told that lie. No one’s speaking to me now, not even Winnie. When people come into the store, they look at my mother like she’s poison. The lie was all my idea. She’s furious with me for shaming her.”

  Considering how Mrs. Johnson had carped about Rebecca, the rumors about Abigail had to sting.

  The blonde squared her shoulders. “I’m leaving. I have a cousin in Charleston. She’ll—”

  “Hold on,” Zeb said. “If you run off now, folks might believe what you said. They’ll think the worst of both of us.”

  “No, they won’t.” Her eyes shimmered with regret. “I asked Reverend Preston to make things right. Ever since I told that lie, I’ve been sick to my stomach. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Zeb. As things turned out, I hurt myself.”

  “When are you going?” he asked.

  “I leave tomorrow with the Crandalls.” Her voice had no life, no spunk. “My mother says it’s for the best.”

  Zeb had no desire to hold a grudge. He’d made mistakes, too. “It’s over, Abigail. Go start a new life.”

  “Do you mean it?” she asked

  “I do.” He traded a look with Nora. It seemed fitting for Abigail to take Nora’s spot with the Crandalls.

  The blonde took a deep breath. “I better go. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

  Nora offered a kind smile. “Stay safe, Abigail.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Mitchell.” Looking weary, Abigail melted into the crowd.

  Zeb blew out a breath. “That was a surprise.”

  “A good one,” Nora added.

  Will, Emmeline and Rebecca crowded around them. Will looked at Zeb. “We heard every word.”

  “Glory!” Rebecca shot a look to the heavens. “I can’t believe it! Mrs. Johnson calls me names and her own daughter—”

  “—acts disgracefully!” Emmeline finished.

  “I forgive her,” Nora added, “But I’m glad she’s gone.”

  Zeb felt the same way.

  The women were still chattering when a handbell clanged. They all turned to the roped-off section of grass where a long table had been set up for the arm-wrestling contest.

  Pete bellowed over the noise of the crowd. “Attention ladies and gentlemen! The first annual High Plains Arm-Wrestling Championship is about to begin. Contestants, take your places.”

  Zeb took a deep breath to clear his thoughts of Abigail. He had other priorities today, including Cassandra. He skimmed the crowd and found her in the front row, directly across from the table. They hadn’t spoken again about Clint and Percy, but yesterday she’d broken a luncheon date with the attorney. Today she looked as nervous as Clint. Zeb took it as a good sign.

  Nora touched his elbow. “It’s a big purse. I’m surprised Pete’s not entered.”

  He laughed. “He’d win for sure. Back in Bellville, we declared him lifetime champ.”

  Rebecca leaned close to them both. “Besides that, we’re rooting for Clint.”

  After trading smiles, Zeb and Nora turned to the competition. Eight men had signed up. In addition to Clint, Zeb saw Edward Gunderson, Tom Briggs, three ranch hands, a millworker and Percival Walker. Edward would be a tough match, but he felt certain Clint would easily beat the others.

  Pete held up a black bowler, then shouted to the crowd, “There are four pairs of buttons in this hat. To determine the first-round matches, each man will draw a button and pair off accordingly.”

  As Pete passed the bowler, the men made their picks and took their seats at the table. Clint was matched with a local ranch hand. When Percy sat across from Edward, Zeb almost smirked. He felt certain the banker would lose to the Norwegian. The rest of the men paired off, and the contestants rolled up their sleeves.

  “Gentlemen, square off!” Pete called.

  The competitors matched palms and tightened their grips.

  Pete raised his hand in the air. “Ready! Set! Go!”

  Clint won his match in two seconds flat. So did Tom Briggs, who’d been paired with one of the ranch hands. The third ranch hand and the millworker were more evenly matched, but the millworker eventually won. Zeb looked at the fourth table where Percy and Edward were eye to eye, each turning red, their neck muscles popping. Zeb had expected the attorney to go down in a blink, but the man hadn’t broken a sweat. To Zeb’s surprise, Percy slammed Edward’s hand to the table.

  Will crossed his arms. “Looks like Clint’s got some competition.”

  Rebecca spoke from behind them. “He was champion at his club in Boston. He bragged about it at the boardinghouse.”

  The thought of handing Percival Walker the prize money turned Zeb’s stomach. Nora hooked her hand in his elbow and squeezed with reassurance.

  Pete put four buttons in the hat. Clint and Tom Briggs drew a matching pair. Percy squared off with the millworker, a man Zeb knew to be strong. Pete counted down and the match began. Percy beat the millworker easily. Clint ba
ttled with Briggs but still won.

  Sweat rose on the cowboy’s brow. He wiped it with a bandanna and took a deep breath. Percy played to the crowd by flexing his biceps. When he struck a pose with both arms out to his sides, the crowd hooted. Clint’s expression shifted from glum to snarling.

  Briggs and a ranch hand pulled back the long table and replaced it with a square one for the final round.

  Zeb’s gaze went to Cassandra. She looked as pale as the moon. He’d have gone with Nora to his sister’s side, but Pete raised both arms into the air. “Gentlemen, shake hands and take your seats.”

  Clint didn’t budge. Neither did Percy. They stood like two bulls about to butt heads. Neither wanted to shake hands and Zeb didn’t blame them. When it came to winning Cassandra’s heart, they were mortal enemies.

  Pete cleared his throat. “It’s the rule, gentlemen. Now shake hands.”

  Clint’s jaw twitched, but he extended his arm. Percy shook Clint’s hand like it was a dead fish, then indicated that Clint should sit first. It was an arrogant gesture, one meant to take control. Zeb found himself praying for Clint under his breath. That kind of treatment usually made the cowboy clam up. Today he had to stay good and mad.

  To Zeb’s relief, fury burned in the cowboy’s eyes. Holding Percy’s gaze, he indicated the other chair, then spoke like a perfect gentlemen. “After you, Mr. Walker.”

  Behind Zeb, Rebecca clapped her hands. “He knows his manners, all right!”

  Staring hard at Clint, Percy made a show of stretching his arm. Zeb couldn’t see his face, but he could see Cassandra. When her mouth gaped, he wondered what the attorney had done. Clint must have seen the gesture, because his eyes narrowed and his jaws clenched.

  Percy, with deliberate slowness, lowered his body onto the chair, planted his elbow on the table and wiggled his fingers. “Ready when you are, Clint.”

  Judging by the cowboy’s snarl, he wanted to knock Percy right into next week. Instead, he sat, planted his elbow and locked hands with the attorney. “I’m ready.”

  Pete raised his arm high. “Ready…Set…Go!”