Something Like Love

by Beverly Jenkins

  On the eighth day, he haltingly opened his eyes and saw Chase Jefferson asleep in a chair beside the bed. Neil wasn’t totally lucid, but he had enough awareness to know he was in a strange bedroom. His attempts to sit up were slapped down by the excruciating pain that exploded in his back. Breathing harshly, he tried to will the hurt away, but the burning was so intense that he moaned.

  Then Chase was standing over him, and Neil’s eyes met his.

  “Neil?”

  But before Neil could reply, he slipped back into the arms of dreamland to seek shelter from the flames licking at his flesh.

  Olivia stood in the doorway of the sheriff’s office and watched the latest bounty hunter ride slowly down Main Street. His battered hat and dusty clothing sat on a frame that was average height but rail thin. His swagger and cocky grin exuded such menace that everyone on the walks stopped what they were doing to watch him pass by. Olivia frowned. He was the third one so far. The sheriff’s estimate of their arrival had been off by only two days. It had taken eight days for the first one to ride in, and now, on the tenth day, she knew the elders needed a means to corral the strangers before all perdition broke loose.

  She noted the man’s many contrasts. Unlike his shabby clothes and hat, the black leather gun belt around his waist gleamed with care. The chamber and pearl handle of the gun glinted in the sun. She assumed he was heading to the Lady, where the others had taken rooms. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what Malloy must be thinking, to house men who might be hunting him before it was all said and done, but Malloy seemed determined to go his own way, so everyone just watched and waited. Many of the citizens were looking to her for assurance that their quiet lives would return, and the burden of trying to make their wishes a reality was keeping her awake at night.

  And always in the back of her mind was Neil.

  “Miss Olivia?”

  The voice interrupting her reverie belonged to Liza Pierce, daughter of the farmer Olivia had threatened with jail during the meeting concerning Malloy’s decision to open the saloon. Standing with sixteen-year-old Liza were two of her young friends. “Girls. How are you all?”

  They exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, then Liza handed Olivia a small embroidered pillow. “I made it for Mr. July.”

  Olivia was caught by surprise. “I see.”

  “Will you make sure he gets it, and tell him it’s from me, Pearl, and Sylvia?”

  Olivia eyed the silent but eager-appearing Pearl and Sylvia. “I most certainly will. I’m sure he’ll be real appreciative.”

  “We think he’s so handsome.”

  “And dangerous,” Pearl added with a smile and a shivery move.

  Sylvia added, “With him being in your house and all, I’m betting you get to see him all the time, don’t you, Miss Olivia?”

  Olivia wasn’t sure whether to be appalled at the girls or to howl with laughter. “No, not really. He’s still under Doc Johnson’s care.”

  Liza said, “Will you please tell Mr. July that me, Pearl, and Sylvia send our regards.”

  “I will.”

  That seemed to make the day complete. “Thank you,” they squealed and left giggling.

  Olivia glanced at the pillow and wondered what on earth would happen next.

  When Olivia got home that evening, Asa and Sophie were playing checkers at her kitchen table. Their Winchesters were leaning against the table within easy reach. Chase wanted everyone armed in the event the bounty hunters tried to take Neil by force.

  “Evening,” Olivia called, setting down the pillow and her handbag before untying the ribbons of her beige bonnet. “Who’s winning?”

  Without looking up from the red-and-black board, Asa and Sophie answered in unison, “I am.”

  Olivia chuckled. A quick look at the board showed they were even, at least so far. “How’s the patient?”

  Asa answered, “Sleeping, last time I looked in.”

  Olivia knew that last night, Neil had awakened long enough to speak to Chase for a few minutes. According to Delbert, the flesh around the gunshot wound was beginning to heal, but because Neil was under arrest and because it was improper for an unmarried woman to be at a man’s bedside, she hadn’t had any time alone with him. In reality she would have gladly traded her own need to see him for news that he was out of the woods and finally on the mend. She noticed that she hadn’t seen Delbert, though. “Is the doc in with him?”

  While studying her options on the checkerboard, Sophie replied, “No. He rode over to Nicodemus to deliver a baby. Their doc is back east burying his mother, and the midwife is gone to Topeka for the christening of her new grandson.”

  “Is he returning tonight?”

  “No. Said if the birth was easy he’d be back tomorrow afternoon. Said July would be okay until he gets back.”

  Asa snarled playfully, “Come on, woman. Move. We don’t have all night.”

  “Hold your peas, old man. I’m thinking.”

  Olivia poured herself a cup of coffee and smiled at them as she brought the hot brew to her lips. According to the gossip, Sophie and Asa had met in New Orleans, before the war. Sophie Reynolds was the elegant quadroon owner of a well-heeled sporting house, and Asa, an escaped slave. In spite of the differences in their stations, they’d fallen in love and had been together now almost thirty years. Olivia had once asked Sophie why she and Asa had never married. Sophie replied that one, she was too old, and two, her love for Asa didn’t need the blessings of a government that couldn’t even uphold the Constitution.

  Neil could hear the voices of two women and a man drifting in from somewhere beyond his room. He didn’t recognize the man’s, or one of the women’s, but the other woman’s voice was so painfully familiar his heart began to pound in his chest.

  When Olivia heard Neil calling her name, she thought she imagined it at first, but when the call came again, she shot Sophie and Asa a confused look even as she hurried to her bedroom.

  Inside, her steps slowed at the sight of him awake.

  “Welcome back,” she said softly. It was easy to see he was still in pain, but his lopsided smile lit up her heart.

  “Glad to be back,” he whispered thickly. “Where am I?”

  “My bedroom.”

  He gave her a knowing look. “Not exactly the way I planned it, but I’ll take it.”

  Olivia sensed Sophie and Asa behind her. She wished them gone so she could touch him to make sure he was indeed alive, but she set aside the selfish thoughts.

  He croaked, “I could use some water if there’s any around.”

  Olivia went to the pitcher on the nightstand and poured him a cup.

  Sophie said, “Olivia. Asa and I think we hear prowlers outside. We’ll be back in a quarter of an hour.”

  Olivia dropped her head to hide her smile. What friends she had. “Okay.”

  And they slipped out but left the door open.

  Olivia took a seat on the edge of the bed and guided the cup to his lips. He drank a few sips, then dropped back against the pillows to catch his breath. She waited a few seconds and then asked, “How are you?”

  “Hurting, but I’ll make it.”

  Neil then reached up and slowly traced a bent knuckle down her cheek. He wondered if she had any idea how good it felt to be alive and to see her again. “I dreamed about you. I was at a waterfall and your face was reflected in a pool of the clearest water I’ve ever seen.”

  The whisper in his voice was as soft as his touch, and both left Olivia shimmering. She said to him, “That first night—we didn’t think you were going to make it to morning.” She would never forget how scared she’d been for him.

  “I’m glad I did.”

  “So am I.”

  Neil felt as if he could watch her for every minute of every day for as long as he lived. “Tell your friends out there thanks for letting us have this time.”

  “I will, but I won’t stay long. I don’t want to tire you out.”

  “It’ll be
a good tiring out, so don’t worry.”

  He took her hand and placed it atop his heart, then covered it with his own. He closed his eyes, seemingly content. After a few silent moments passed, he asked, “Do you always sleep on lace-edged sheets?”

  Enjoying him holding her hand, she smiled. “Yes. Something wrong with them?”

  “No. They’re just real soft. Never been on sheets this soft, or pillow slips.”

  “Glad you’re enjoying them.”

  Neil wondered how it might be to make love to her on these lamb-soft sheets, but he pushed his mind away from that. He couldn’t even make it to the privy alone. “Chase says there’s bounty hunters in town.”

  “Three so far.”

  “Waiting for me to make a run for it.” For a moment, he quieted again, then said with a subdued laugh, “As long as that Bible-quoting Preacher doesn’t show up, everything should be fine.”

  “The sheriff said the Preacher is the only bounty hunter to ever bring you and your brother in.”

  Neil’s eyes were closed, but he smiled. “Sure is. Stayed mad at him for months afterward. Finally forgave him when Shafts and I went down to Texas to help Griff and Jessi Rose get rid of some varmints. Preacher was a big help.”

  He rolled his head in her direction so he could see her face, then, before he could say anything else, his eyes slowly drifted closed once more. “Looks like we won’t get to use that whole quarter hour after all,” he said with sleepy amusement.

  “That’s okay,” Olivia assured him in a tender tone. “Rest. I’ll see you soon.”

  He gave her hand a little squeeze. She leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

  He smiled and was asleep before she left the room.

  A few evenings later, the Board of Elders met. Chase and Olivia proposed a new town ordinance that would require all strangers in town to surrender their weapons as a condition of being on town property. The weapons would be returned when they rode out. Anyone who refused to obey would be given the choice of not entering town or going to jail. The ordinance passed unanimously.

  The next morning, a worried Olivia paced the sheriff’s office. Chase, Handy, Asa, and three other newly deputized men were over at the Lady informing the bounty hunters of the new weapons ordinance. Her worry stemmed from whether the strangers would comply. Chase had been gone over an hour, and although she hadn’t heard any gunfire, she kept steeling herself for the sounds.

  In the end, Chase returned. His face was grim. “None of them wanted to surrender their guns, so they’re leaving the Lady.”

  “Good.”

  “Not good. They’re camped outside the town limits.”

  She stared. “What?”

  “I escorted them off town property, and that’s as far as they have to go. We can’t regulate them on land that doesn’t belong to the town.”

  Olivia sank into a chair. She had been so sure the men would leave when faced with the ordinance, it never occurred to her they’d know how to circumvent it.

  Chase explained, “We’re not the first town with ordinances these men have faced. They know how to skirt the law, but at least we got them out of town.”

  Olivia acknowledged the small victory, but the war remained. “Did you ever hear from Marshal Wildhorse?”

  “Yes. He and a few men will be heading up as soon as the marshal finishes testifying in a case.”

  She sighed with relief.

  “His guns will be a big help, but his presence will go a long way towards making sure my badge is respected.”

  Olivia didn’t understand.

  “A couple of those men out there are rebs, and they weren’t real happy having to deal with me and my deputies.”

  She understood now. “‘We have no rights which a White man was bound to respect,’” she said, quoting the infamous line from the ruling against Dred Scott in 1857. Every man, woman, and child of the race was familiar with that ominous phrase because of its continued effect on their lives. In many areas of the country, peace officers who were men of color weren’t allowed to enforce the law if the lawbreaker wasn’t a member of the race. “Is Wildhorse a White man?”

  “No. Black Seminole, but he was appointed by Hanging Judge Isaac Parker, and Parker has made it well known that the officers under his jurisdiction can arrest anyone, no matter the race.”

  Olivia was glad to hear that. She’d read about Judge Parker in the newspapers. He was a tough, no-nonsense jurist, and outlaws were terrified of him; he wasn’t called Hanging Judge Parker for no reason. “I’ll be glad when the marshal arrives.”

  “So will I. In about a week or so, Neil should be strong enough for me to move him here to the jail.”

  Chase must have seen the displeasure on her face, because he said, “It’s for his protection, Olivia, and he is supposed to be under arrest, remember?”

  “I do.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been with him long enough to find out, but something’s there.”

  “My wife thinks so, too.”

  Olivia gave him a little smile. “Your wife talks too much.”

  He laughed aloud. “Been telling her that for years—but she won’t believe me.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Well, whatever happens with Neil, my first priority is the safety of Henry Adams and its citizens.”

  He nodded, “And you’re doing a bang-up job.”

  “Thanks. Have you seen today’s Nicodemus Cyclone?”

  When he shook his head no, she handed him the two-sheet daily.

  Chase looked at the drawing of the smiling Malloy on the front page and shook his head, then read the banner headline: “Henry Adams Merchant Brings Down Neil July.” “Soon as this gets around Malloy’s going to be known from here to St. Louis. Hope he’ll like being famous.”

  “I hope he gets eaten by a bear.”

  Chase chuckled and went off to do his rounds.

  When Olivia reached her home that evening, the sight of three mounted men watching her house from about two hundred yards away gave her pause. She could only assume they were bounty hunters. She hurried inside to alert Asa, who was sitting with Neil. When she and the armed Asa stepped back outside, the men had vanished.

  By the fifteenth of August, Neil was able to walk around, albeit slowly. His strength was returning with a steadiness that pleased Doc Johnson, who finally gave him permission to venture outside. Because Neil was under arrest, and with concerns for his safety mounting now that there were six bounty hunters holed up at the makeshift camp outside of town, he was confined to the back porch, but he didn’t care. The elation of being alive far outweighed any restrictions.

  And now he was seated in the old upholstered chair on Olivia’s back porch, enjoying the rising wind. “Feels like a storm comin’.”

  Daisy, sitting on the edge of the porch with Rachel and Olivia, looked up from the doily she was crocheting to say, “Lord knows we need some.”

  Rachel took her pipe out of her mouth and shaded her eyes as she peered toward the western sky. “Does look like something’s on the way.”

  Olivia, shelling a bowl of peas, hoped it poured. It hadn’t rained in weeks, and for the past few days, each succeeding one had been hotter and stickier than the one before. The citizenry, however, had a novel way of dealing with it. “Sophie told me this morning that she and Asa have been sleeping in the storm cellar to get away from the heat.”

  “So have we,” Daisy proclaimed. “It’s too hot to do anything but perspire.”

  Neil enjoyed Rachel and Daisy’s company, but he only had eyes for Madam Mayor. The quick, shy glances she kept shooting him from beneath her long lashes had his heart beating like a Seminole drum. He wanted to be alone with her so that he could talk to her about the things gurgling inside. She had on a navy skirt that was bordered by a band of pleats and another one of her long-sleeved blouses with a frilly collar that highlighted the bea
utiful, angular lines of her face. He was sure she was roasting in all those clothes, but she looked real fine doing it.

  The wind rose a few more notches and the grass began to whisper in response. The sky was slowly filling with fat gray clouds.

  Daisy scanned the sky, but instead of remarking on the weather, she said instead, “So, Mr. July, what are your intentions towards our Olivia?”

  Olivia howled, “Daisy?!”

  Rachel said to her, “Hush, Olivia, and let the man answer.”

  Neil was so caught off guard that all he could do was laugh.

  Daisy voiced firmly, “This is not a laughing matter, Mr. July. It’s very easy to see you two are smitten, but nothing will come to fruition if you continue to rob trains.”

  Supposedly concentrating on her peas, Olivia took a quick look up at Neil to gauge his reaction and found him watching her with the most serious expression on his face she’d ever seen.

  “I know,” Neil responded quietly; he did because the issue was causing great debate within himself. “If I could court Olivia openly, it would mean more to me than all the gold I’ve ever possessed….”

  Olivia went weak. The latent power in his voice touched her like a hand.

  The Two Spinsters were smiling. Then Rachel said, “The last time this town had such goings-on, the place was in an uproar for months.”

  Daisy nodded. “That Chase and Cara Lee kept us on the edge of our seats.”

  “Sure did,” added Rachel.

  “Now that was a grand passion.”

  Olivia, still reeling from Neil’s passionate declaration, barely heard the bantering spinsters.

  Rachel said, “Daisy, we need to get home. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”

  The wind had picked up again, making the sleeves on Olivia’s blouse ripple in response.

  Suddenly a mounted Chase appeared. The wind was increasing in such fast increments it was now whipping the women’s skirts. He yelled, “I’m telling everybody to head for the cellar. Got a wire that a cyclone just tore up some farms about fifty miles west of here. It should be right on top of us within the hour.”