She looked up and found him searching her face, his own expression troubled. He moved closer—hesitated just a moment—and then closed the space between them, kissing her soft and gentle on her mouth. She loved the soft feel of his lips on hers, the safety of his strong arms holding her close, even the tickle of his whiskers on her upper lip. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax and kiss him back. It would be so easy to be like this forever.
Pleasure rose up inside her that made all the hairs on her head tingle. He cupped the back of her head with his hand, smoothing the hair there just under her bun, and pulling her closer against him. Her blood raced through her, excited to the point it made her tremble.
This is what got you into trouble in the first place, a voice inside told her. She broke off the kiss and pulled back slightly, her heart beating too fast.
“I found this for you at Mrs. Taylor’s,” Mrs. Graham said from the front doorway.
Sylvia covered her face with her hands. She’d let things go too far! Her face had to be red from what had just happened and his mother had probably seen the entire thing! Now the woman would surely think poorly of her.
Nelson, however, didn’t move away. He turned to acknowledge his mother but kept his large hand splayed on the small of her back.
Sylvia stepped away from his touch.
Holding herself as stiff as a board, Mrs. Graham entered the parlor, carrying a folded length of material and a smaller package wrapped in a muslin cloth and tied with a string. She walked into the parlor with a frown on her face as she looked from her son to Sylvia. “This should be enough for a dress.”
Sylvia took the material from her and unfolded it. It was a sturdy mustard-colored cotton. She’d hoped, foolishly, for something with a pattern. Perhaps a gingham check like the one she wore of Tessa Simcock’s.
“It should hold up well,” Mrs. Graham said.
“With the work that’s ahead of me, I’ll need something serviceable and strong. This will do fine. I can’t be wishing for anything that will fall apart after a season.” She turned to Nelson, who had remained quiet. “Looks like there’s enough here to keep me busy until I can get back on my side of the river. Maybe even enough to make a shirt for Tommy if I cut it carefully.”
He pressed his lips together, enough that it was hard to remember how pleasant they’d been to kiss.
What had she said that had bothered him? Was it the way she had acted at seeing the material? He didn’t think her ungracious, did he? She stroked a wrinkle from the material and tried to hold back the sudden prickle of tears. He was so good to her, she didn’t want to upset him.
Mrs. Graham turned to her son. “Mr. Miller stopped me as I passed by his shop. He wants to speak with you.”
“I’ll go see him.” Nelson shrugged into his coat and hat and then focused his gaze on her. “When I get back, we can all have supper at the restaurant.”
The restaurant? She wouldn’t be comfortable there! Didn’t he understand that? What was he trying to do? She opened her mouth to tell him so and then remembered his mother standing there. To decline his invitation would sound ungrateful.
She was trying to come up with the right thing to say when he walked out the door.
Mrs. Graham held out the other package. “You will need this too.”
Sylvia took it from her and untied the string. Inside the rolled-up cloth were scissors, needle, thread and six buttons. “Thank you, Mrs. Graham.”
Mrs. Graham pursed her mouth. Her eyes weren’t soft and green like her son’s eyes, but a hard, steel gray. “I don’t want your thanks. I want you to get busy and make your dress so that you will be able to leave as soon as possible.”
Sylvia sucked in a breath. She gathered up the sewing items and material. She’d work on the dress in her room, where she wouldn’t be a bother to anyone. “I plan to leave as soon as I can get across to my land.”
“Then we understand each other.”
She lifted her chin. A glimmer of rebellion sparking inside her. “The doc don’t seem to mind me being here.”
“He is vulnerable just now.”
The doc? Vulnerable? “You mean because of his father?”
“I see he has shared things of a personal nature with you.”
She turned toward the stairs. “He considers me a friend.” Funny, she was the one who had always tried to fight that. Now she was waving it like a banner.
“I’m afraid that you are not a suitable friend or otherwise for my son.”
The words hurt like a slap to her face. Sylvia stopped with her hand on the banister and turned back to Mrs. Graham. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Mrs. Gallagher informed me of plenty when I stopped in for the material.”
Mrs. Gallagher again. Sylvia’s chest tightened with pain. She hated that she’d let this woman hurt her. Even if her home was filled with water and snakes to the brim, she couldn’t wait to get back there. Anyplace was better than here with this woman. Anyplace was better than town.
She picked up her skirt and hurried up the stairs as fast as she could.
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning, Nelson dressed and stepped from his room. Sylvia’s door was still closed. It had been ever since yesterday when he returned from the Millers’. He hadn’t been able to entice her out of her room to go to the restaurant. He’d taken Tommy and his mother out to eat and then brought back a plate of food for Sylvia and left it by her door.
He crossed the hall in two steps and removed the towel from the plate. Half the food was gone. At some time during the night, she’d eaten a little. He knocked on her door. “Sylvia? How are you this morning? Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.”
He waited for more elaboration. None came.
“Tommy and I are going to look for your mule after breakfast. Would you like to ride out to the river with us and help search?”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t like Sylvia to be so subdued. It bothered him. Something had happened when he’d left her alone with his mother and neither woman was talking to him about it.
He’d thought about that kiss all night. By morning he’d made up his mind. The list be damned. It didn’t matter what was written there. He wanted her. Her past didn’t matter. It was a future he wanted with her. And he meant to speak to her about it today. Somehow, he would convince her that she was welcome—in town, in his home and in his heart. If he had to go forward patiently in small increments, then that was what he would do.
Considering her attitude over the past twelve hours, Nelson had expected some silence from Sylvia during the carriage ride. When she climbed into the buggy, refusing his help, and made sure that Tommy sat between the two of them, he knew whatever bothered her still plagued her. But something was up with Tommy too. Nobody was talking.
He stole a glance at her. She sat straight and proper, holding the side handle with one hand and her other arm around her son. Her hair was braided into a pretty knot in the back. He hadn’t thought about her lack of a hat. He’d have to remedy that once they were back in town.
“When I stopped in at the livery this morning, Wally mentioned that a group of men left early to look for the ferry. They hope to find it salvageable. Maybe Miller can repair it rather than build an entirely new one. It would save time and lumber.”
“Why do they have to build it anyway?” Tommy asked. “I don’t want to go back. I like staying in town.”
It was the first time that Nelson had ever heard the boy whine.
“Well, of course we have to go back!” Sylvia said irritably. “What about the sheep? What about our chickens?”
“Well, what about my friends?” Tommy said. “I want to play with them. It’s more fun staying in town.”
Sylvia squeezed her son. “That’s just because it is a change for you. We don�
�t belong here. Doesn’t make any sense to get too used to things.”
Nelson focused on the road, but his thoughts mulled over her words. Something had happened to solidify her resolve to go back to her land. How could he make her see that she’d be safer in town and hopefully, one day, happier?
Suddenly, her attention riveted ahead as they approached the river. “Look how high the water is!”
She looked over Tommy’s windblown hair at Nelson. “I don’t know that I’ll ever trust that river again. It never came up this high before. I thought our place was safe. Guess now I’ll worry every single spring and every time it rains hard.”
It would be on his mind every year too if he couldn’t convince her to leave her land. He clamped his mouth shut to keep quiet. Arguing with her only made her dig in her heels more and he didn’t want to say anything in front of Tommy. But he would have it out with her—eventually. He would find out why she was suddenly so intent on going back to her home.
He pulled the buggy up to a stop at the ruined ferry landing.
Miller was there and had already started repairing the ramp and dock. A wagonload of new lumber stood to the side of the trail and a new coil of rope lay in the grass, ready to be strung across the river. When Miller saw Nelson, he put down his saw and walked over. “Hey there, Doc.”
“Any predictions on when we will be able to cross the river?”
“The river is down a foot from two days ago. Still a strong current. I’d say another two days, barring any rain, should make it safe. Usually, it isn’t all that deep here—no more than three or four feet at most.”
Nelson huffed. “Except in the spring when it rains. I can’t even see where the landing was on the opposite bank.”
Miller nodded. “The water is covering it. Miss Marks, I don’t see how you and your son survived the crossing.”
Sylvia stared at the expanse of water. “I don’t know either. Guess I got an angel looking out for me.”
“I wonder how the DuBois family and some of the other folks who stayed on their land are doing,” Nelson murmured.
“No telling,” Miller said. “I’ll have this landing done by nightfall. Hopefully, the others will find the ferry downstream and not too damaged.”
Nelson hoped they found the ferry, but he hoped it wouldn’t be too soon. He still needed time to change Sylvia’s mind about staying. “We are headed that way now, looking for a mule.”
They spent the next few hours searching for Berta without any luck. Finally, he turned the buggy around and they headed back to town. Tommy seemed to be the most discouraged of the three of them. Nelson bumped the boy’s small shoulder gently. “Maybe Berta is smarter than all of us and she is back in her shed, stealing all the grain and oats you had stored up.”
When they jumbled over the railroad tracks and entered town, the boy perked up. At the livery, almost before the buggy stopped, Tommy climbed down and hobbled off on his crutches to find his new friends.
“That ankle of his will be stronger than before with all his moving,” Nelson said.
“He’s getting harder and harder to pin down!” Sylvia said, her gaze lingering at the door where Tommy had disappeared. “I’m glad he’s getting along with those other boys, but it will make it that much harder on him to leave when the time comes.”
Nelson wrapped the reins around the brake lever. The sweet smell of hay lingered in the air.
“He will be back soon.”
Sylvia looked at him askance. “Why?”
“All his new friends are in class this morning.” Which meant he had better say what he had planned and be quick about it.
He climbed from the buggy and then reached up to help Sylvia down. She held on to his shoulders. Her hands lingered even though her feet were on the ground.
“Doc—” she said cautiously. “By that look on your face, you got something on your mind.”
Her eyes were big and brown and luminous.
“We were interrupted yesterday. That’s what has been on my mind.”
He pulled her against him and kissed her soundly. She stiffened at first, surprised. But then slowly, her body relaxed and she slid her hands up behind his neck, pulling him even closer. A satisfied hum came to his ears, encouraging him further. He deepened the kiss.
A long moment later, she pulled back. “You kiss me like that and I can’t think straight.”
“Good, because it may take that to get you to listen to reason,” he said, pressing his lips to her cheek, her forehead, her neck.
She moaned. Then her eyes flew open and she pushed against his chest. “It wasn’t a dream!”
“What?”
“When you carried me back from the river! I thought it was a dream that you kissed me. It felt just like this.”
He grinned.
He bent down and kissed her there again. “Like this?”
She shivered. “That makes me warm all over.”
He chuckled. Her eyes were half-closed. Her black lashes swept down over perfect skin. Her swollen lips begged to be kissed again. Desire rushed through him. He had to have her. Had to make her his. Somehow.
He set her from him and took both of her hands in his. “I’ve told you before that I care for you, Sylvia. You kidnapped my doctoring skills that night. But since then, you have kidnapped my heart. I don’t want to lose you. I want you to stay here with me. I want you to marry me.”
Her eyes widened, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say she wasn’t breathing.
“Oh, Doc...”
“Nelson...” he corrected.
“Oh, Nelson—” She took a deep breath. “I never expected...” Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t ever think... Wait—I got to gather my thoughts. I’m all scattered. I figured we were friends, but this is more...”
He smiled. “Definitely more. I love you.”
“But why? How? I’m all wrong for you! And I’m afraid!”
“Afraid?” He almost laughed at the preposterous notion and then realized that she was serious. “You? The woman with the rifle? The woman strong enough and brave enough to live out on her own? What could you be afraid of?”
“That you’ll grow tired of me. That I’m not your equal. Like your mother said, I can’t hope to be the woman you wrote about on that list.”
She might as well have thrown cold water on him. So that was what had happened with his mother. “I don’t care about that list. Not anymore. I care about you.”
“I—I do care for you too. So much.” Her brow furrowed. “If you think there’s a chance I could make you happy, and you’re willing to take Tommy along with me—”
“Of course I want Tommy. And you do make me happy. We can make it work. I know we can.”
“But I don’t know.”
He sighed. “Then we’ll take it slow. We don’t even have to tell anybody until you’re ready. It will be our secret for now.”
The furrow between her brows eased.
“Just say you’re willing to consider it. You’re willing to try.”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes luminous. “I do love you. If you’re willing to go slow, then...all right. Yes. I’ll try.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her proper to seal it. Yet she had planted a seed of worry in him. What would really happen in the next few days? Once the ferry was back in operation, would she leave and not look back?
* * *
Tommy met them back at Nelson’s office, announcing that all his new friends were in school and that he wanted to go too.
Nelson couldn’t have been happier to hear it. Sylvia, however...
“You look shocked,” he said, grinning.
“I am and then some,” she said, wonder in her voice. “Into the kitchen with you for now, Tommy. I heard that growl from your stomach.” She straightened, looking from
Nelson to his mother. “I’ll make enough for everybody and call you when it is ready.”
When they had disappeared down the hallway, he turned to his mother. “Come with me. It’s time we had our talk.”
She arched a brow and followed him. He ushered her into his office and offered her a seat—which she didn’t accept.
He hoped for a way to connect with the woman, foolish though it might be at this late time of his life. “I don’t know why you have set yourself up against Sylvia. You don’t know anything about her.”
“But I do. And I worry for your practice and your reputation.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, or where you’ve received your information, but may I suggest you ask her straight out rather than listen to gossip? You may find that she is an amazing woman.”
“An amazing woman. Yes...” She looked down at her folded hands. “I have hopes that you will find such a woman someday, although I am certain it is not Sylvia.”
“Why not?”
“From things that Mrs. Gallagher said at the mercantile. And a Mr. Caulder stopped by also and gave me quite an earful.”
The two worst informants. “Mother—”
“Sylvia had the choice to marry when she found out she was carrying Tommy, the same as you. Only, she chose differently. Her path has been the harder.”
She raised her chin. “I very much doubt that.”
He wasn’t about to feel sorry for her and her poor relationship with Ellison. “You had a roof over your head that didn’t leak or have to be repaired constantly. You had enough to eat all the time—food that you didn’t have to grow and harvest and preserve. You had friends and family nearby. You had dresses made of silk rather than dresses made from whatever was available.”
“It sounds like I made the better choice, then, didn’t it?”
He’d had enough of her high-and-mighty Boston ways. “No, Mother. You made the easy choice. With the options that Sylvia had at the time, she made a far scarier and, in my view, more noble choice.”
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