Kansas Courtship (13 page)

Zeb wanted that assurance, but he didn’t have it. In his experience, God cared about Heaven and Hell but not the here and now. Anger welled in his belly, but so did a longing to be proven wrong. He only half listened to the reverend’s words about perseverance. Zeb had been persevering his whole life, first to escape Bellville and then to build Garrison Mill.

“So how do we manage in times of trouble?” the reverend asked. “Where did Noah find the wisdom to captain that ship?”

Zeb stopped fidgeting.

The minister kept pacing. “He didn’t get it by staying up all night. He didn’t get it by working hard, either.”

Zeb saw himself as plain as day.

The reverend looked straight at him. “Noah got wisdom by asking the Lord for help. Just like us, he found himself in tough times. He did his best and trusted God to do what he couldn’t do for himself.”

The minister swept the congregation with his eyes. “The Lord loves us, ladies and gentlemen. And He’s given us the capacity to love one another. That’s what kept Noah going. He loved God, and he loved the people in his care. We love each other today because God first loved us.”

Zeb didn’t feel loved by God. He felt worse than empty, as if his soul had turned to dust. Had the dryness started with Frannie? He wanted to blame her but couldn’t. As long as he could remember, he’d had a yearning he couldn’t satisfy. He’d thought success would fill it, but it hadn’t. He’d thought marrying Frannie would make him happy, but she’d left. He’d once asked Will if he felt that same lack. His friend, a godly man, had said no.

Zeb wanted that peace. How did he get it?
Show me, Lord. What do I have to do?

His mind traveled back to the church in Bellville.
Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and ye shall find.

Was it that easy? Could he ask God for help and get it? As a millwright, Zeb lived by logic. To be effective, the millworks had to be powered by the river. The waterwheel transferred the energy to the saws. What connected man and God? Nothing Zeb could see.

In the next breath, Reverend Preston looked right at him again. “What is it that connects us to God?”

Zeb got chills.

“I’ll tell you what that connection is,” the man said. “It’s love. A mother will go hungry to feed her child. A man will die to save his family. It’s love that keeps us looking for the missing children, and it’s love that gives us the power to rebuild this town.”

A prickling raced up Zeb’s spine and put his thoughts in motion as surely as the flow of the High Plains River powered the mill. God was the river, the source of power. Love was the waterwheel, the connection between God and humanity. Love had put Christ on the cross and given mankind the hope of eternity and new life. As understanding dawned, Zeb felt a trembling in his belly. Without God, he was as dead as a mill in a drought. He couldn’t explain why bad things happened, why tornadoes struck and children got snatched, but he could trust in rivers and waterwheels—in God and His love—the way Noah had trusted during the storm.

Zeb had some amends to make and he knew it.
I’m sorry, Lord, for my pride.
Peace filled his soul, but only halfway. He owed Nora a real apology, not one made of wood.

Reverend Preston rocked back on his heels. “We share God’s love in many ways. We’re friends. We’re neighbors.” His eyes twinkled. “We’re also male and female. Like the animals on Noah’s ark, we do better in pairs than we do apart.”

The minister smiled at his wife in the front row. Will turned to Emmeline and smiled. Pete and Rebecca tipped their heads together like lovebirds. A yearning for more than work, something beyond a legacy, pulled at Zeb’s gut. He wanted to be in love again, but how could he take that chance?

He looked down at Nora’s hands, loose in her lap and covered with ivory lace. He imagined curling his fingers around
them, but in the next breath he called himself a fool. Medicine would always come first in her life. He knew, because he had the same drive when it came to milling. Never mind her keen intelligence and fetching blue eyes. He’d be a fool to do more than apologize. With his jaw tight, he decided to make amends immediately after church. A few words would suffice.

Instead of feeling relieved by the decision, Zeb felt cheated. He didn’t want to have feelings for Nora, but he did. Tough by nature, he was accustomed to fighting for what he wanted. Right now, he wanted to take this pretty, intelligent woman for a walk by the river. He wanted to take her hand and hold it, just to see what she’d do. Did they have a future together? He wouldn’t know unless he kicked that rock down the road. He couldn’t think of a better place to test their feelings than by the waterfall.

Reverend Preston closed the service with a prayer. As the crowd filtered to the door, Zeb turned to Nora. Her gaze held a challenge, but she didn’t speak.

Keeping his voice level, he matched her stare and held it. “I’d like a word with you, Dr. Mitchell. Would you take a walk with me?”

With his heart plinking against his ribs, Zeb waited for her answer.

N
ora matched his gaze with a tough one of her own. “Certainly. I have something to say to you, too.”

“Then we’re of the same mind.”

She doubted it. Zeb Garrison detested her. What she felt for him defied explanation. When he’d slid into the pew next to her, she’d imagined a string pulling them together. She’d seen his jaw, freshly shaved with a small cut, probably because he’d hurried, and she’d wanted to dab it with her handkerchief. She hadn’t thought twice about sharing the hymnal with him. She could no more shun Zeb and his troubled heart than she could leave Alex in a ditch.

He crooked his elbow and offered his arm. With a glint that dared her to accept, he waited for her to slip her fingers into place.

With a defiant gleam of her own, Nora took his arm as they stepped into the aisle, blending into the crowd waiting to greet Reverend Preston. Zeb said nothing, but she sensed his every breath. He seemed different than when he’d slid into the pew without noticing her. Standing at his side, she understood why the people of Bellville had followed him to High Plains. He had
the poise of a confident man, someone they could trust because he’d fight for what he believed in.

Nora admired his bearing, but she knew it came at a cost. As a doctor she maintained the same poise. Only a few people knew how profoundly she wept when she lost a patient. She tightened her grip on Zeb’s arm. When his biceps bunched, she recalled the brush of their fingers on the hymnal. As her nerves twittered, he looked down with the hint of a smile. Nora let go of his arm and stared straight ahead. She owed him a thank-you for the shelves, not a glimpse into her wayward thoughts.

The line moved steadily until they reached Reverend Preston. The minister shook her hand. “Welcome, Dr. Nora. I saw you in the back row.” His eyes twinkled. “That’s Zeb’s special place, you know.”

“I’ll remember that.” In the future she’d avoid him. “I enjoyed the sermon very much.”

“Thank you.” He released her hand. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

“You will,” she replied.

The minister gripped Zeb’s hand next. “You, too, Zeb. Even in the back row.”

When Zeb chuckled, Nora felt it in her bones. She’d grown accustomed to his tense moods. Today he seemed at ease. Why had he invited her for a walk? Her mind tripped down a strange and twisting path that ended at the top of a waterfall. Her stomach went over the edge, but she forced herself to weigh the facts. She had no reason to think he’d seen the light when it came to female physicians. Until she heard what he had to say, she’d be wise to maintain a polite distance.

As they walked into the churchyard, he spoke so only she could hear. “Let’s walk around back.”

“All right.”

As he guided her to a side path, Cassandra waved at them. “Zeb! Nora! Come here.”

He kept walking, but Nora stopped. “You can’t just ignore her.”

“Sure I can.” He flashed a grin. “She’s my sister.”

His expression left her breathless, but her mind stayed engaged with her surroundings, especially people noticing them. Zeb didn’t need to earn the town’s respect, but she did. Leaving with him, especially in a secretive manner, would lead to gossip.

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.”