With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (29 page)

Jason was still thinking about Kevin’s advice as he approached Elizabeth’s house that evening. He hadn’t spoken to her all day. In the morning, she’d rushed off to the Eberhardt house before he could greet her, and he hadn’t seen her return. She must have, for she’d left him a note, probably while Kevin was in his office, saying she had to make a house call and would go home from there.

A full day without Elizabeth. Jason hadn’t realized how much he looked forward to the time they spent together until it had been taken from him. Without Elizabeth, today had seemed like a stew without seasoning. While it might provide sustenance, there was little flavor and no pleasure in tasting it. Fortunately, he had a way to add savor to his day. The candy gave him an excuse to see Elizabeth.

“Good evening, Jason.” Gwen smiled as she opened the door. “Elizabeth didn’t mention that she was expecting you.”

“She wasn’t.” He looked around, surprised when he didn’t
see her. She had told him that normally she spent the hours between supper and bedtime in the parlor. “Is she home?”

“Yes.” Gwen nodded at her daughter, who was playing with her doll. “Tell Aunt Elizabeth that Mr. Nordling is here.”

Rose scampered off to do her mother’s bidding, and a few minutes later Elizabeth emerged from her room. Surely it wasn’t his imagination that she looked different, that her shoulders were slumped and her smile a bit forced.

“Is something wrong?” Elizabeth’s eyes were troubled, as if she were expecting bad news.

“No,” Jason was quick to assure her. “I just wanted to see you. Would you like to take a short walk?” Though the night was cool, the wind had diminished enough that they could walk and talk. In private. It was probably foolish, but Jason wanted to be alone with Elizabeth when he gave her the candy.

For a second, he thought she would refuse, but she did not. “That sounds wonderful,” she said softly. As she reached for her cloak, she turned to Gwen. “I won’t be long.”

Jason waited until they reached the bottom of the stairway before he spoke. “I missed you.” He crooked his arm so that Elizabeth could rest her hand on it.

“I missed you too. It was a difficult day.”

He’d guessed that much from the almost haunted expression in her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t.” He heard the regret in her voice. “You know I can’t discuss my patients any more than you can tell me about your clients.”

But she wanted to. He took comfort from that realization. Perhaps Elizabeth the doctor and Elizabeth the woman weren’t as far apart as he’d feared. Perhaps one day she’d
recognize that she was a woman first, a doctor second. But that day, Jason knew, was not today.

Sensing that she needed cheering, he stopped and looked down at her, hoping she’d see the amusement in his eyes. “You’ll never guess what happened to me today,” he said in an overly melodramatic tone. “One of my clients shocked me.”

“What did he do?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready for this revelation. You’d better hold on to my arm.” When she tightened her grip, he pretended to frown. “Are you ready?” She nodded. “All right. Here it is: he took my advice.”

Elizabeth placed her free hand on her chest and feigned astonishment. “You’re right. That is shocking. Truly shocking.” Amusement colored her voice as she said, “I do hope you didn’t admit that to him.”

“Of course not. I had to be professional.”

Her expression sobered again. “That’s what’s been worrying me.”

“You don’t think I’m professional?” Jason surmised that she meant nothing of the sort, but he had to do his best to cheer her.

“It’s not you. I’m worried that I’m not as professional as I ought to be. I try not to, but I’m afraid that I’m making a classic mistake and am becoming emotionally involved with my patients.”

Miriam Eberhardt. Though Elizabeth had mentioned no names, Jason was confident that it was Miriam’s case that worried her today. Or maybe not. There had been something unusual in Elizabeth’s expression when she’d spoken to Gwen. Though the woman did not appear to be ill, Elizabeth had seemed worried about her.

“I imagine it’s difficult not to become involved,” he said slowly. “The reason you became a doctor was to help people. You care about them.”

“Perhaps too much. In school they warned us about the dangers of becoming too close to our patients. The professors told us to keep a balance, that we couldn’t let our patients become part of our lives. They said we must separate our personal feelings from our responsibilities as physicians.” Elizabeth looked up, the confusion evident in her blue eyes. “I’m not sure I know the difference anymore. I’m a doctor, but I’m also a woman. I don’t know where one stops and the other begins.”

To Jason the distinction was simple. Being a doctor was nothing more than Elizabeth’s profession. Just as he would still be a man even if he did not practice law, Elizabeth would be a woman even if she never treated another patient. The problem was, she was so tightly focused on her career that she didn’t seem to realize that.

They’d been walking steadily north and were now opposite Barrett Landry’s mansion, the house where Elizabeth’s sister Charlotte and her son would live when she and Barrett returned from the East. Jason guided Elizabeth across the street, stopping in front of the handsome three-story brick building.

“Perhaps I can help.” He pulled the box of candy from his pocket and offered it to her. “This is for Elizabeth the woman.”

Her eyes widened in apparent pleasure when she read Mr. Ellis’s name on the cover. “Oh, Jason!” Elizabeth untied the cord and gave the chocolates an exaggerated sniff. “Do you know, this is the first time anyone’s given me candy?”

He tried not to let his surprise show. Surely someone had given this beautiful woman chocolates, and yet the fact that no one had could be the reason why she had so much trouble separating her profession from herself. It appeared that no one had treated Elizabeth like a woman.

That part of her life had just ended.

 20 

S
he hated November. If her mother were still alive, she would say it was foolish to hate a month, but Tabitha knew better. November was the most boring month of the year. The wind had begun to howl. It snowed occasionally. Worst of all, there were fewer parties than during any other month. Tabitha could not think of a single good thing about November. And that idea of setting aside a special day to give thanks was downright ridiculous. There was no reason to thank God or anyone else for the things she’d received, when they were the result of her own cleverness.

Tabitha looked around the room she had designed as her private retreat, her eyes lighting on the elaborate mantel. Not only had the marble been brought all the way from Italy, but Nelson had even hired Italian craftsmen to carve it. This room was beautiful. No one in Cheyenne would deny that the whole house was magnificent. Tabitha’s clothes were some of the finest in the city, her collection of expensive jewels unsurpassed. But all that beauty had come at a price.

For once the splendor of her royal purple and gold room failed to soothe her, and Tabitha frowned as she admitted that the price she’d paid was more than she had bargained for. Living with Nelson had been worse than she’d imagined. At first he’d been a cheerful, easily biddable man, but now he was as gloomy as a November day. He refused to discuss anything that interested her, and he seemed annoyed when she didn’t care about the latest order that the lumber company had received. Why would she care about pieces of wood? The only thing that mattered was how much money he was making from selling that wood. It was no fun, no fun at all, being married to Nelson Chadwick, especially in November.

Tabitha leaned back on the chaise longue that had come from Paris, stroking the purple satin covering. If her life wasn’t what she’d dreamed it would be—and it wasn’t—there was only one person who could change it. She’d done it before, exchanging a humdrum existence as a shopgirl for the glittering world of Cheyenne’s high society. She could do it again. She’d find a way.

Tabitha closed her eyes for a second, then smiled. A party. That was the answer. Hosting the city’s elite and showing off her beautiful home never failed to boost her spirits. So what if others didn’t hold parties this month. She would. And every important person in the city would come. By the time Thanksgiving Day arrived, they’d have a new reason to give thanks, for her gala would chase away everyone’s doldrums. Perfect.

She was still smiling ten minutes later when Nelson entered the room.

“We need to talk,” he announced.

Tabitha looked up, surprised to see her husband in the room that he had declared ostentatious. It had been months,
perhaps even longer, since he’d crossed this threshold, but here he was. Her eyes narrowed, considering the man who’d been the object of her thoughts. It wasn’t like Nelson to be so abrupt, and it definitely was not like him to have that odd expression on his face. If Tabitha didn’t know better, she would have said that he’d just eaten something sour, but Nelson ate only at prescribed times.

“Certainly,” she said, smiling as sweetly as she could. Her smiles were practically guaranteed to improve Nelson’s mood. The silly man was drawn to them like bees to lilacs. “I wanted to talk to you too, sweetheart.” The endearment was his favorite, the one that never failed to put a smile on his face. Oddly, he did not smile today. “It’s time we host another party. I was thinking about inviting—”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, refusing to let her finish her sentence. His voice was harsh, his expression unyielding. Something was wrong, but for the life of her, Tabitha could not imagine what it was. “There will be no more parties,” he continued in that strangely cold tone. “There will be no more ‘we.’ It’s over.”

Tabitha shook her head, trying to clear her brain. Nelson was making no sense. It was almost as if a stranger had taken residence in his body. “What do you mean?”

He took a step closer, those brown eyes that had once sparkled when he looked at her now cold. “Exactly what I said. It’s over. Our marriage is over. I’m going to divorce you.”

Tabitha felt the blood drain from her face as the word registered. Nelson couldn’t be serious. This must be some sort of nightmare. If she waited a minute, she’d waken, and everything would be back to normal. She gripped the edge of the chaise in an effort to force herself awake, but it did no
good. She was already awake, and Nelson was still standing there, that peculiar expression on his face.

“You can’t divorce me,” she said, blurting out her first thoughts. “I’ve given you no reason.”

“Don’t be so certain of that.” This time there was no doubt about it. Nelson was smirking, almost as if he were enjoying her discomfort. “You’ve refused to give me a child. That’s a mighty good reason for a divorce.”

Tabitha thought quickly. She couldn’t let Nelson divorce her. If he did, she’d be the laughingstock of Cheyenne. She knew people had laughed at Nelson when he’d married her, calling him an old fool. Tabitha hadn’t minded that. He had been a fool if he’d believed her protestations of love. But she would not let anyone laugh at her. There had to be a way to change his mind.

“You’ll never prove that was my fault.” The only person who knew about the ergot she’d taken the four times she’d found herself carrying Nelson’s child was her maid, and she would never divulge her mistress’s secret. Camille knew that Tabitha had not been joking when she’d said that the consequences of betrayal would be severe. Very severe.

“Won’t I?” Nelson’s lips twisted into a snarl. “Don’t underestimate my power or my determination. Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life, but staying with you would be even worse.”

Tabitha rose, moving slowly and seductively toward her husband. “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. I know you love me.” She laid her hand on his cheek.

“Stop it, Tabitha.” Nelson brushed her hand away, then took a step backward. “Nothing you do will change my mind. This farce of a marriage is over.”

Tabitha stared at the man who’d promised to love and cherish her. There was only one possible reason that he was speaking such nonsense. “Who is she?”

As the long case clock in the hallway chimed the quarter hour, Tabitha watched Nelson carefully. She was right. Though he tried to hide it, the tightening of his lips and the downcast eyes betrayed his guilt.

“Who is who?” he demanded, his voice steely.

“The girl who’s caught your eye. That’s the reason you’re saying those things.” It was the only possible reason. “You’ve found someone younger than me. Tell me, Nelson, who is she?” It wasn’t anyone in society. Camille would have heard the rumors if that were the case. It must be another shopgirl. No matter. When she discovered her rival’s identity, Tabitha would make certain the woman understood that she would never, ever become Mrs. Nelson Chadwick. That was Tabitha’s name. She’d worked hard for it, and she wasn’t going to share it or the money it represented with anyone.

“There is no one.” Though his words were brave, Nelson still refused to meet her gaze.

“You’re lying.”

Half an hour later, Tabitha banged on Oscar’s front door.

“Let me in,” she shouted when he opened it. The fool had left her standing on the stoop for the better part of a minute. Didn’t he know that a lady’s reputation could be ruined for lesser offenses than calling on a single man? If the situation hadn’t been so dire, she wouldn’t have come, but there was no one else she could trust, and she couldn’t summon him to her house when Nelson was there.

“What are you doing here?” Oscar asked as he ushered her into his parlor.

Tabitha took a deep breath, forming her words. She hadn’t wanted to waste time having her carriage brought around, so she’d practically run the three blocks to Oscar’s home. Now that she was here, she wondered if she’d made a tactical mistake. Perhaps she should have summoned him, after all. It was too late for that. She was inside the modest building that Oscar called home. Though Nelson paid him a good wage, it didn’t compare to the profits Nelson took from the company. Oscar lived in a house a quarter the size of Tabitha’s and had no servants other than a woman who cooked, cleaned, and took care of the laundry.

Tabitha perched on the edge of a horsehair couch, patting the spot next to her. When Oscar was seated, she answered his question. “Nelson has gone crazy.” As she spoke, Tabitha watched Oscar’s expression. A feeling of relief rushed through her when he raised his eyebrows. It appeared that Nelson hadn’t confided his plans to Oscar. Perhaps he wasn’t serious. Perhaps there was still a way to change his mind. “He wants to divorce me.”

Oscar’s eyebrows rose another inch, his skepticism evident. “That doesn’t sound like Nelson. He loves you.”

Tabitha tried to control her exasperation. “Oh, Oscar, don’t be a fool. Nelson never loved me. He wanted me just like he wanted a fancy house and servants. Now he thinks he wants someone else.”

“Are you sure? The Nelson I know would never look at another woman.”

Hah! “I’m as sure as a woman can be. I told you before that he was seeing another woman. I thought it was a whore, but it appears that I was wrong. We need to find out who the woman is. Then we can plot our strategy.”

She hadn’t planned to say “we,” but when the word slipped out, Tabitha knew it was a stroke of brilliance, for Oscar’s expression changed. Instead of disbelief, she saw sympathy, and for the first time since Nelson had made his declaration, she realized that a divorce might not be a tragedy. Nelson would pay well for the privilege of divorcing her, and once he did, she’d be free. Free to convince Oscar they belonged together.

Tabitha smiled. Perhaps November wasn’t so bad after all.

She was tired. Bone tired. Elizabeth had heard that expression, but she had never before experienced the deep-seated ache that affected every part of her body. It had been a difficult two days as she found herself ministering more to her patients’ spirits than their bodies. The first day, Miriam had been so worried that her baby was no longer moving that she had sent Delia for Elizabeth. Even though the child was simply sleeping, Miriam had not believed Elizabeth’s reassurances and had insisted that she remain with her until she felt the baby move again. It had been then that Elizabeth had realized that bed rest, while essential for Miriam’s well-being, was giving her patient too much time to worry, and so she had agreed to pay a house call every day.

Next Louis Seaman had somehow climbed the ladder into the barn loft and had fallen out, breaking his arm. Though it was a simple fracture, Laura had been too distressed by her son’s injury to drive the wagon into town, and Lloyd had been working at the other side of the ranch. A neighbor had summoned Elizabeth. Even though it had been a pleasant day for a ride to the Seaman ranch, between the distraught
mother and the injured son, Elizabeth had found herself with two patients, and she’d spent more hours than a broken arm should have required, simply because she needed to assure Laura that she was not responsible for her son’s accident.

“Children are curious,” she told the sobbing mother. “They like to climb and explore, and they don’t yet realize the consequences of things like hanging too far over the edge.” Elizabeth had had her own childhood experience with a barn loft. Lured there by the plaintive cry of a kitten, she’d fallen off the platform. Fortunately for her, she had landed in a pile of hay and had suffered nothing more than a few scratches.