Kansas Courtship (21 page)

As her stomach twisted with worry, Nora looked down Main Street. Thanks to a community effort, work hadn’t stopped on the town hall. She could see glass windows and the first coat
of whitewash. The building stood strong and bright, a tribute to the people of High Plains. Nora ached to be part of this town. She wanted to put down roots and stay forever.

“Dr. Nora?”

She turned and saw Winnie Morrow approaching from across the street. She had a basket on her arm and a sweet smile on her face. Nora smiled back. “Good morning, Winnie.”

“How’s Zeb?”

“The fever broke.” Nora enjoyed sharing happy news. “He’s going to be fine.”

“Oh, good!” Winnie shifted the weight of the basket. “The jubilee committee met last night. We were deciding what to do about the celebration. If Zeb had died…” She shook her head. “This town needs him.”

“I think so, too.”

Winnie heaved a sigh. “Abigail will be glad. I suppose you heard the news?”

Please, Lord. Let the news be about the jubilee.
“I haven’t heard anything.”

Winnie looked smug. “Frankly, I don’t care. My mother wanted me to marry Zeb, but I like someone else.”

Nora’s stomach turned to acid. “What are you saying?”

“I’m surprised Zeb didn’t tell you. He and Abigail are getting married.”

Nora’s world spun into a gray mist until she steadied herself with sheer discipline. The rumor could still be a lie. It
had
to be a lie. “How do you know?” she asked. “Did Abigail announce it?”

“Mrs. Preston told my mother.” Winnie stepped closer, as if they’d become best friends. “Abigail’s with child. Can you believe it?”

Nora had overheard the conversation with the Prestons. So far,
Winnie hadn’t said anything that proved Abigail’s claim. Needing information, Nora turned professional. “Is Abigail sure?”

A smug smile crossed Winnie’s face. “At the meeting last night, she excused herself twice to be sick. My mother says she has ‘the look.’”

Nora knew that look well. Expecting women often had a glow. “I see.”

With Nora struggling to stay calm, Winnie described the conversation with the Prestons, then related Abigail’s visit to Zeb’s sickbed. “At first he yelled at her to leave. He tried to deny it, but then he spoke with Reverend Preston and made arrangements.”

Yesterday Zeb had been close to death. Had he been planning a wedding or his funeral? Nora refused to give up hope. Until she spoke with him, she wouldn’t believe a word of gossip.

Winnie sighed. “A wedding makes sense. Before you came to High Plains, everyone expected Zeb to marry her.”

“I see.”

“Frankly,” Winnie replied, “the Johnsons deserve the embarrassment of a shotgun wedding. The way they treated Rebecca was shameful. Now the shoe’s on the other foot.”

“We’ll see,” Nora said diplomatically. Until Zeb told her to pack her bags, she wouldn’t trust a word anyone said. Surely he’d tell her the truth. But he was a man of integrity. If he had to marry Abigail, he’d do it.

After saying farewell to Winnie, Nora looked down the road to Zeb’s house. Before she spoke to anyone else, she wanted to hear the truth from Zeb. Rather than visiting Cassandra as she’d intended, she turned to the river where she could walk alone. She also needed to pray. Somehow it seemed fitting to do it at the foot of the waterfall.

Z
eb woke up with a smile on his face and Cassandra at his bedside. He wanted to speak with Nora, but she’d left the house for a breath of air. He knew how fast rumors could fly through High Plains, and he wanted to speak with her before Abigail launched her next attack. He still felt weak, but the fever had broken. His leg hurt, but the pain no longer felt like a beast in his flesh. Gratitude flooded his soul and he silently thanked God for His mercy. In a few days, he’d walk out of Nora’s house with crutches or a cane. In a week or two, they’d take that buggy ride and he’d propose to her.

Now, though, his sister needed his attention. Zeb hadn’t paid much attention to her romantic quandary in the past week, and he wondered if she’d come to her senses. “So how’s Clint?” he asked.

Cassandra’s eyes lit up with pleasure, then dimmed to an everyday brown. “He’s fine. Dr. Nora gave him cough medicine, and he rested like she said.”

“He’s a good man.” Zeb thought back to the conversation in the mill just before the accident. “I don’t suppose he’s asked you any important questions?”

She gaped at him. “Of course not. He’s a cowboy.”

“So?”

Cassandra looked at him as if he were stupid. “I like Clint a lot, but I miss Boston. If Percy—”

“Percy’s a dolt.”

“I don’t think so.” She absently handed him a glass of water. “There’s a lot to be said for going back East. Even Dr. Nora’s considering it.”

“What?”
Zeb couldn’t believe his ears.

“Do you remember how she wrote that doctor about Bess? He wrote back with an offer to work with him. I asked her if she was going to take it, and she said she didn’t know.”

Zeb felt the sting of a poisoned arrow. He’d expected to wake up and see Nora at his bedside. No wonder she’d been standoffish yesterday. She hadn’t been worried about his leg or his life. She’d been wondering how she’d tell him she’d decided to go back to New York. Rage pulsed through Zeb’s body. She’d tricked him into trusting her. He’d given her his heart and she was about to hand it back with polite regrets. He couldn’t stay under her roof another minute. “I’m going home,” he said to Cassandra. “Do you have the buggy?”

“Yes, but—”

“Tell Carolina I need those crutches she mentioned.”

Cassandra didn’t budge. “What’s gotten into you?”

Zeb swung his good leg over the side of the bed. “Hand me my pants,” he ordered. “Now!”

“No!”

“Yes!” They were bickering like brats, but he managed to shove into his trousers. He was tangling with a shirt when Nora walked into the room.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

No way would Zeb let her see his pain. A man had his pride. Right now, that was all he had. He’d leave today, but he’d do
it with dignity. He looked at Cassandra. “I need a minute with Dr. Mitchell.”

Nora’s brow furrowed at the use of her title. Cassandra stood. “I’ll wait in the parlor.”

As she left, Zeb sat as straight as he could with the leg stretched in front of him. It hurt, but not as much as his heart. Unless he controlled himself, Nora would see right through him. She’d win like Frannie had won. He licked his dry lips, then spoke with all the control he could muster. “Sit down, Nora. We have to talk.”

Her faced paled. Zeb knew why. She knew she’d been discovered.

“About what?” she asked in a hush.

“We’ve had some memorable times,” he said. “I won’t deny it. But it seems we’re destined to go our separate ways.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice quavered.

“I’m positive.” He put iron in his voice. “A man has to do what’s right. So does a woman. Cassandra told me about that letter you received. It’s the job of your dreams, isn’t it?”

She gave a small nod, then bit her lip. “Are you
telling
me to take it?”

Zeb wiped his hand through his hair. For all his arrogant pride, he loved this woman. He wanted her to stay, but he also wanted her to be happy. “It seems to me you belong in New York.”

“I see.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Zeb didn’t know what to think. Women cried when they were happy. They cried when they were sad. Which was this? He wasn’t sure. He only knew he’d done the right thing by setting her free. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much. The pain took him back to the front of the church where Frannie had left him. Anger had comforted him then, and it strengthened him now.

“Go on,” he said roughly. “Get out of here so I can finish getting my things together.”

She looked as if she’d been kicked to the side of the road. “Your leg—”

“I’m going home.”

“It’s too soon.” She reached for his hand.

He jerked it back. How much pity could a man stand? He couldn’t take the look in her eyes, and he sure didn’t want a kiss goodbye. “We’re through, Nora. You know it and I know it.”

With a tearful nod, she headed for the doorway. With her back to him, she paused. “Your leg still needs attention. I’ll have Carolina visit later today.”

“Fine.”

“One other thing.” She faced him with an expression that matched the stones at the bottom of the waterfall, the ones worn smooth by the endless pounding.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’d like to adopt Alex.” Her voice quavered. “I’ll be able to take good care of him. He can go to school.”

Zeb cared about the boy, too. He’d imagined the three of them making a family. That wouldn’t happen, but he still wanted a son. He wanted to tell her no, that he loved Alex and the boy was all he had left, but he couldn’t do it. Even more than Alex and a legacy, Zeb wanted Nora to be happy. “Sure,” he said. “That’ll be good for him.”

With a final lift of her shoulders, Nora walked out of the room, taking with her the shattered pieces of his heart.

Alone at her bedroom window, Nora watched Zeb leave with Cassandra. She couldn’t imagine anything worse for him than being forced to marry Abigail. Back in his room, she’d wanted to cry with him, but she’d held in her feelings out of respect. By telling her to leave, Zeb had protected her dignity.

Now she had to protect his. Fighting tears, she sat at the sec
retary in her room, selected a sheet of stationery and penned a letter to Dr. Zeiss accepting the job as his assistant. She thanked him for his kindness, then wrote, “I’ll leave High Plains at the end of the week.”

Nora looked at the words and felt sick. Eventually Zeb would find another doctor for the town. Until then, Carolina could handle whatever needs arose. The women and children would especially be in good hands. Carolina had delivered more babies than Nora. As for paying her way to New York, she’d ask Percy to sell her house. Immediately after the summer jubilee, Nora would leave High Plains the way she’d come, seated next to Mr. Crandall on a freight wagon.

The sooner she left, the better off Zeb would be. He’d doubtlessly marry Abigail as soon as he could stand. The thought of seeing them together crushed Nora’s soul to dust. She wrote a second paragraph updating Dr. Zeiss on Bess, then signed the letter “Nora Mitchell, M.D.” She’d come a long way from being “Dr. N. Mitchell.” She’d earned the respect of the town and of a man who’d accidentally broken her heart.

Nora sealed the envelope and left it on her desk. She’d post it herself when she reached Kansas City. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the Johnsons, and she didn’t want to cope with questions from friends. She’d say goodbye to everyone at the jubilee, including Zeb. Sometimes a woman needed to cry alone. This was one of those times.

Zeb couldn’t climb the stairs to his bedroom, so he slept on the sofa in the parlor. Carolina came every day to check his leg. He resisted the urge to ask her about Nora, but his curiosity grew every hour. By now, he’d expected to hear talk about Nora’s news. He’d considered asking Cassandra what she’d heard, but he didn’t want to stoke his sister’s interest in going
back East. With his sister tending to him, Will and Emmeline had returned to the Circle-L. Pete came to visit once, but they’d talked about saw blades and nothing else.

The person who
hadn’t
visited was Abigail. Zeb saw no reason to send for her. By now, she’d know he was alive and kicking, and that her lies wouldn’t hold water. Next time their paths crossed, he’d settle things with a word or two. Until then, he wanted to lick his wounds in private.

He was closing his eyes for a nap when the parlor door flew open. Cassandra marched across the room. “I can’t believe it. Zeb, how
could
you?”

He pulled himself upright. “How could I what?”

“You
know
what!” She started to pace. “Abigail! Of all people…She’s awful. I do
not
want her for a sister, but if what I’m hearing is true—”

Zeb stifled an oath. He didn’t know how the rumor had spread, but Abigail was at the root of it. “Whatever you’re hearing, it’s a lie.”

Cassandra launched into a litany of names, gossip and innuendo. Zeb could barely follow, but he gleaned from her ranting that Mrs. Preston had been present when Abigail spoke with Reverend Preston. She’d said something to Mrs. Morrow, who’d blabbed to Winnie and every woman who’d come for a dress fitting. By the time the story had reached Cassandra, the rumors had him guilty as charged and engaged to Abigail.

“Tell me again,” he said to his sister. “Half the town thinks Abigail’s carrying my baby, and we’re getting married at the jubilee?”

She nodded furiously.

“And,”
he continued, “because neither Abigail nor I have said a word, people think it’s going to be a surprise wedding.”

“Exactly.” Cassandra dropped down on a chair.

With his heart pounding, Zeb recalled his conversation with Nora. He’d assumed she
wanted
the job in New York.
He’d
told her to leave. Now he wondered if she’d heard the rumors and was leaving out of a sense of honor. It would be just like her to sacrifice her happiness for the benefit of another woman’s child,
his
child…a child that had never been conceived.

He had to get to her. He had to tell her the truth before she did something foolish like a hire a wagon to take her away from High Plains…away from him. He tried to stand, but Cassandra nudged him back down.

“So it’s not true?” she asked

“Not a word of it.” Furious and disgusted, he told Cassandra about Abigail’s visit. “I thought Nora was leaving because she wanted the job in New York. Now I think she’s leaving because of the talk.”

Cassandra bit her lip. “I don’t know, but she’s going with the Crandalls after the jubilee.”

He had three days before Nora would be gone forever. He considered hobbling to her house now, but an idea took hold and wouldn’t let go. The people of High Plains were expecting a surprise announcement at the jubilee. Zeb rather liked the idea of making a declaration they’d never forget. He wanted to tell the world he loved Dr. Nora Mitchell, and he wanted to claim her as his wife in front of the entire town.

A second thought nagged at him. What if she really
did
want to return to New York? If he spoke his mind at the jubilee, the whole town would witness his humiliation. He’d be reliving the horrible jilting by Frannie. Zeb thought for less than three seconds. He’d take that chance and he’d do it gladly.

He looked at his sister and thought about Clint, Percy and the tug-of-war for her heart. “What about you, Cassie? What’s happening with Clint and Percy?”

When she didn’t object to the childhood name, Zeb knew she felt burdened. Suddenly bleak, she bit her lip. “Percy asked me to marry him.”

Zeb’s blood chilled. “I see.”

“I wish I did.” She twisted the hankie in her lap. “I don’t know what to do. Percy’s so…perfect. But Clint—” She bit her lip. “He has a certain way about him. I told Percy I had to think about it.”

“That’s good.”

“I just don’t know,” she repeated.

Zeb thought of his own situation. He’d fought his feelings for Nora, but they’d bested him. He’d tried to fight God, and the Almighty had wrestled him to the ground with a brush with death. In the end, Zeb had no decision to make. He just had to act with courage. He tugged on a curl of his sister’s hair. “You’ll know what’s right, Cassandra. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You won’t decide anything until after the jubilee.” He didn’t tell her about Clint and the arm wrestling and the prize money. The cowboy had to make the declaration on his own.

“All right,” she answered. “But I want a promise from you.”

“What is it?”

Her eyes glistened with love. “I want you to marry Nora. I already love her like a sister. I think you love her, too.”

“I do.” Zeb smiled. “This jubilee’s going to be memorable for both us.”

When his sister hugged him, Zeb hugged her back. He had three days to wait and plan. He’d use the time to practice walking on crutches. Flooded with gratitude, he thanked God for the miracle of healing. He wanted the world to know he’d become a different man, one who wasn’t afraid to love and trust a lady doctor. Someday he wanted a little girl with red hair and a medical degree just like her mother.

When Cassandra pulled back, Zeb smiled. “Would you ask Reverend Preston to pay a call?”

“Sure,” she said. “Why?”

Zeb wanted to make sure the reverend knew what he intended. “You’ll find out at the jubilee.”

Cassandra groaned. “I hate secrets!”

Zeb laughed out loud. Not only would Cassandra be surprised by what
he
had to say to Nora, she’d be shocked to her toes when Clint won the arm-wrestling contest and asked her to marry him.

Joy welled in Zeb’s chest, but he managed to look smug. “You’ll like this surprise,” he said. “You might even get more than one. Now go fetch Reverend Preston. I have plans to make.”