Someone Like You (26 page)

“Loy, if you would listen, I will explain. Sam Slater was kind enough to agree to close the Roadrunner for the night—for a fee, of course. He has assured me that he will see to it that the riffraff are kept away.”

“I bet Reverend Pettigrew will order the entire congregation to boycott your party if it’s held at the saloon,” Loy said.

“I have already spoken with Reverend Pettigrew. He understands my predicament. There isn’t another place in town big enough to accommodate everyone I intend to invite. He said as long as the bar was closed and the drunks kept away, he didn’t see a thing wrong with using the Roadrunner Saloon.”

‘Just how many people do you intend to invite, lovey?” Mr. Emenhizer asked.

“Why, the whole town, Loy. The whole town.”

The day of the Emenhizers’ party, it turned much colder. A northerly wind whipped up the few remaining leaves from the garden and froze the puddles left by the last rain. Everyone in Bluebonnet went about their chores bundled in their heaviest coats and capes, keeping their collars and hoods up and their hands snug and warm in knitted woolen mittens.

Reed stayed a bit longer than usual in the doctor’s office, as the cold weather was causing the elderly to have flare-ups of rheumatism and the children to cry with earaches. The druggist across the way was busy mixing up numbing salves and cough syrup, and Dahlia was busily foisting off her own home remedies on anyone willing to give them a try.

Winter, it seemed, had settled in, and everyone in town was looking forward to the grand party the Emenhizers were throwing in the Roadrunner Saloon. Why, word had it that there was even a band coming from as far away as Dallas, and everyone speculated that the rumor must be true, for a group of newcomers had arrived only this morning and checked in to the Peach Orchard Hotel.

When Reed got home, Susannah and her aunts were dressed and waiting for him. He changed quickly, then harnessed the buggy and drove up to the house for the ladies. Susannah, he thought, looked lovelier than ever in a gown of antique gold velvet that set off the color of her eyes and pulled the light from the lamps and settled it in her hair.

Susannah said Violette and Dahlia were like a couple of mismatched bookends, and Reed didn’t have any trouble agreeing. Dahlia looked as if she had gotten a good price on a reel of yellow ball fringe and used all of it on her bright red dress. Violette was a bit more subdued—but only a bit—in a wool dress of black-and-white checks trimmed with jet beads. The feathers in her hair bore a remarkable resemblance to those in the feather duster.

When they arrived at the Emenhizer party, no one seemed to notice the outlandish dresses worn by Susannah’s aunts, but everyone stared at Susannah as if they had never seen her before. Tate Trahern looked especially green with envy.

The green of Tate’s face didn’t go at all well with the deep golden velvet gown Susannah wore. But the adoration in Reed’s eyes did. He had known her for a beauty, but he had never seen her dressed like this.

“That’s because I’ve never
owned
a. dress like this,” she told him when he complimented her. “My darling aunts made it for me. It’s truly a labor of love.”

“And you look like a love in it,” he said, kissing her softly. “My love. My one and only true love.”

He wished he weren’t standing so close to her and found himself envying those who stood farther away, for they had the pleasure of taking in all of her lovely appearance: the way the gown nipped her waist and flared out into a softly bustled train; the intricate embroidery along the hem with gold thread; the neckline that was, Susannah swore, “far lower than anything I have ever worn.”

This was the first social gathering since the typhoid epidemic, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves more than ever before. When it was apparent that everyone in town had gathered in the Roadrunner, Muriel and Loy Emenhizer stood on the bottom steps of the stairway and called Reed and Susannah to come and stand with them.

“I know everyone in Bluebonnet shares with me a tremendous amount of gratitude for the way Dr. Garrett and Susannah gave so unselfishly of themselves during the late unpleasantness, and I know there are many of you, like myself, who owe their very presence here tonight to Dr. Garrett. It doesn’t take a wise man to realize what this town would be like now if we hadn’t had the fortune to have a man like Dr. Garrett in our midst.”

The people erupted with clapping, whistling, and shouts of “Hear! Hear!”

“For this reason, Loy and I want to extend a personal thank you on behalf of all the citizens of Bluebonnet,” Muriel said, turning to Reed and Susannah, “and as a token of our appreciation, we would like to present you with this.” She handed Reed an envelope.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Open it.”

Reed handed the envelope to Susannah. She opened it and found it full of money.

“A thousand dollars isn’t much when you think of how many lives you saved, but it’s our way of saying thank you. We hope you will accept this money and use it to refurbish Dr. Bailey’s office, which his widow has deeded over to you. It is Mrs. Bailey’s wish that you continue the work her husband started here.”

Susannah and Reed thanked them but were cut short by Muriel.

“And now, I would like to get on to the real reason I invited everyone here tonight. I have some news that will bring a tear to your eye and a smile of joy to your lips. It is my greatest honor and privilege to tell you that our own beloved Susannah Jane Dowell has agreed to become the wife of our respected and admired Dr. Garrett.”

There were catcalls, applause, and general all-around shouts of goodwill, as many of the town’s residents crowded forward to congratulate Reed and Susannah. In the midst of all their newfound joy, a shot rang out.

The room grew deathly quiet as everyone turned toward the sound.

Tate Trahern stood on the bar. He waved a six-shooter over his head, his motion awkward and wobbly. It was obvious to one and all that Tate was drunk.

The sight of Tate hit Reed with a dose of apprehension. A sick sort of fear began to build within him. Tate was up to something, something that Reed knew involved him. He tightened his hands into fists and stood immobile, wary of what was happening yet unable to do anything about it.

“I just wanted to get everyone’s attention,” Tate said, slurring his words. “I want the happy little couple to know how important I think it is that they start out their life together without any secrets between them. For that reason, I want everyone in the room to know that our resident saint, Dr. Reed Alexander Garrett, the third, served five years in Massachusetts State Prison for the murder of his wife and baby.”

A horrified gasp went up around the room.

Reed’s insides knotted. Anxiety spread through his body, reaching the extremities with a slow, creeping heat that consumed him. While everyone around Reed began to talk, a multitude of memories and feelings wafted through his head.

Tate fired off his pistol once more. “Just in case any of you self-righteous folks don’t believe what I say, you might want to look over this letter I received from the
Boston Herald.
They sent me a full accounting and copies of the articles that appeared in the newspaper during his trial.”

Reed went stone-still. He knew at that moment that he would never be free of the past. It would follow him like a hound, nipping at his heels. A normal life would never be his. The thought of losing Susannah just when he had found her was unbearable. Dear God, would this albatross ever be gone from around his neck? How many times did a man have to pay? He was reminded of a passage in the Bible, one that said it was appointed that man should die only once. And yet he was dying a second time. How ironic that he had served his five years only to find his debt to society was not paid in full. Rage and despair ate away at him. He wanted to throw back his head and howl. He wanted to smash something, to beat his fists against something until he could no longer stand.

But he did not let any of those feelings show. His face an expressionless mask, he thought about what he should do next. He turned to Susannah, knowing she had been standing there, listening with growing dread to the poison being spewed by a snake named Tate Trahern.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he saw the shock, the pain. He knew it was all over. He realized now that there would never be another life for him, that he would never belong. He could not marry Susannah any more than he could expect her to spend her life running from his past.

He watched her standing there, a wild sort of expression on her face as she looked about, like a demented being. She extended her hand as if she were going to touch him, but she must have reconsidered, for she pulled her hand back. Reed was afraid she would turn and run. But it was the clouded look of doubt in her eyes that was his undoing. When she searched his face, pain sliced through his heart.

Oh, Susannah, not you. I could take this from anyone but you. Don’t turn away from me now, when I need you most. Of all people, you are the one I thought would stand beside me…

Nothing—not the death of his wife and child, not the five years of his life spent in a horrible prison—had prepared him for this. She was the woman he loved, the one he chose to marry, and she had turned against him just as Philippa had. His life was nothing but one disappointment after another. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she doubted him. He felt exhausted, vanquished, wishing now that the court in Boston had sentenced him to death. At least that way it would have been quick, unlike the slow, anguishing death he was experiencing now.

He looked away. It didn’t matter. Without Susannah, nothing mattered. He wondered why he thought things would be different. He wasn’t a doctor. That had been taken along with the five years of his life. He had been a fool to think he could have it all again—a wife and family, a medical practice, respect.

He was about to turn away and leave when he felt Susannah’s slender arm slip through his and her hand give him a reassuring squeeze. The gesture more than suprised him. She started to speak, and he lifted his eyes to search her face for meaning.

“Whatever Tate has found out is old news,” Susannah said, her voice dry and scratchy, the words coming out jerky. “My husband-to-be has paid his debt to society twice—once in Massachusetts and again here, in Bluebonnet, when he revealed to everyone that he was a doctor so he could give so unselfishly of his time. As Muriel said, I don’t have to tell you how many lives he saved.”

As she gazed around the room, her expression belied the confidence of her words. Not that it mattered. Reed was tired. Tired of lying. Tired of running. Tired of trying to be something he wasn’t. It was as if that one look from Susannah changed everything. He was not destined to find happiness in this world…with Susannah or anyone else.

Susannah may have put on a show of defending him with her words, but Reed saw in her eyes what was in her heart. She was lost to him, and the pain was unbearable. There was no longer a reason to fight. Without a word, he turned and walked out the door.

The sight of his retreating back was like a slap in her face, but it did serve one purpose. It cleared the fog from Susannah’s mind. She realized she had made a wretched mistake and done a terrible disservice to the man she loved. She would go to her grave remembering the blank, detached look Reed gave her just before he turned away. She knew what he must be suffering, the desolation and despair he must feel, thinking she had turned her back on him.

Well, blast it, Reed. What do you expect?
she argued in her mind.
I was shocked and taken by surprise. It wasn’t that I doubted you, not really. I was simply caught off guard for a moment. Damn you! If you’d waited, you would have seen that. Why did you leave? Why did you give up so easily?

Reed Garrett may have given up easily, but Susannah was not going to. She had something worth fighting for, and she was ready to take on the whole town if need be. She wished Reed had told her about his going to prison. She understood why he would have been reluctant to tell her, but it would have made it easier to defend him if she had known. She took a look at the door where she had last seen Reed, and wished she could go after him and the town be damned. But someone had to say something. Tate couldn’t get away with this.

She stiffened her spine and was about to speak when she had the surprise of her life.

“Let me through! Get out of the way! Let me pass!”

Susannah stared open-mouthed as Dahlia made her way through the crowd, rapping those who did not move fast enough with her parasol.

When she made it to the front, Dahlia faced the crowd in a manner that Susannah could only call magnificent. “I am shamed to admit I’m part of this community, a place where the likes of this reptile,” Dahlia pointed a wagging finger at Tate, “can get away with slandering the name of a just and upright man. There isn’t a one of you who doesn’t owe Reed Garrett a debt of gratitude. You stop and think about that for a minute. Where would you be now if he hadn’t stepped forward and bared his soul to us in order to help? He could have left us to face the typhoid epidemic on our own.” She turned toward Tate and smacked him across the shin with her parasol. “He saved a lot of people from death, including your own worthless hide.”

Jonah stepped forward and silenced the murmuring crowd. “I think a man deserves a chance to defend himself against his accusers. If Reed Garrett went to prison, I think he has a right to explain why.”