by Amanda Cabot
It was an encouraging thought, except for the fact that autumn was more than three months away.
Harrison nodded, his eyes intent as he watched Gwen ladle the stew into a serving dish. “You should listen to Gwen. She’s a wise woman.”
Her face once again flushed, Gwen called to her daughter. “It’s time to wash your hands, Rose.”
The little girl who’d just turned four was a small version of her mother, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and the prettiest of smiles. Rose managed to keep her expression solemn while Gwen offered a blessing for the food, but when the stew and bread were served, she grinned and began to shovel spoonfuls of the hearty concoction into her mouth. “Good,” she murmured between bites.
“Delicious as always.” Elizabeth seconded the child’s opinion. The speed with which Harrison emptied his bowl left no doubt that he was enjoying the food. It was only when he’d accepted a second helping that he laid down his spoon, his expression once more solemn.
“Have you ladies heard the news about the Bennett trial?” he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I met Mr. Nordling this afternoon, and he didn’t look happy. I assume that means the jury found Bennett guilty.”
“The man is as guilty as June days are long.” Harrison clenched his fist and pounded it on the table, startling Rose. “Unfortunately, the jury didn’t know that.”
Elizabeth wasn’t surprised by Harrison’s first comment. He’d been adamant in his belief that Adam Bennett had killed his wife, and she’d suspected that only a guilty verdict would satisfy him. It appeared, though, that the jury had not shared Harrison’s opinion. That would explain Harrison’s anger; it did not explain Jason Nordling’s mood. The man should have been celebrating his victory.
Elizabeth looked up from the bread she was buttering, fixing her eyes on Harrison. “That’s why we have juries, isn’t it? So they can weigh the evidence and make a decision.”
A glare accompanied his response. “The jury was bamboozled. Jason Nordling gave Bennett a brilliant defense. He was so good that everyone on the jury believed him. It was only after the verdict was delivered that Bennett admitted he’d done it. Admitted?” Harrison’s voice rose to little less than a shout. “He boasted. That miserable, murdering man boasted about what he’d done.”
As Harrison shouted the final words, Rose began to cry.
“It’s all right, sweetie.” Gwen wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “Mr. Landry’s not angry at you.”
Her cheeks tearstained, Rose looked up at him. “You’re not?”
“No, indeed.” Though his voice was still harsh, Harrison appeared to be trying to modulate it. “The problem is, I don’t know who riles me more—the murderer or his attorney.”
Elizabeth had never met Adam Bennett, so she had no opinion of him, but she found herself disturbed by the knowledge that Jason Nordling had defended a confessed murderer. Though his arrogance and blatant bias had annoyed her, she had thought him a basically honorable man. It was true that everyone deserved a defense. Papa had been adamant about that, and yet . . . The question was, at what point had Mr. Nordling learned of his client’s guilt?
An hour later, Harrison had returned to his apartment, and Elizabeth was helping Gwen wash dishes while Rose played with her doll.
“I’m afraid I made a huge mistake,” Gwen said as she rinsed a bowl and handed it to Elizabeth.
Her mind still filled with the thought that an admitted murderer was now free on the streets of Cheyenne, Elizabeth had to force herself to concentrate on what Gwen was saying. “What kind of mistake?” It seemed as if the only mistake that had been made today was in exonerating a guilty man.
“I shouldn’t have invited Harrison to take his meals with us.” Gwen swirled the dishcloth around another bowl, loosening the bits of dried-on stew. “It seemed like a good idea. I haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I’ve been worried about Rose. She needs a man’s influence in her life, and Harrison seemed like the answer to prayer, living so close and being Barrett’s brother. Now I don’t know.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Harrison scares Rose. She doesn’t cry easily, but you saw her today.” Gwen glanced over her shoulder, assuring herself that Rose was no longer crying.
“Harrison seems like a kind man.” Unlike Jason Nordling. Kind was not a word Elizabeth associated with the attorney. He was harsh and dogmatic. Elizabeth blinked, realizing that the same words could be applied to her. She was judging Jason Nordling without knowing all the facts. He’d been upset this afternoon. That could have been because he’d just learned that his client was guilty rather than that his conscience was bothering him for defending a guilty man.
“Oh, he is kind.” For a second, Elizabeth couldn’t imagine what Gwen meant. Then she remembered that they were discussing Harrison Landry, not Jason Nordling. “Harrison is . . .” As Gwen pronounced his name, color rose to her cheeks, and she ducked her head, as if trying to keep Elizabeth from seeing her blush. “It’s just . . .”
Placing the bowl she’d just dried on the cupboard shelf, Elizabeth darted a glance at Gwen. Though she’d known her only a few weeks, Elizabeth had never before noticed Gwen’s tendency to blush. Yet tonight she’d flushed multiple times. Thinking about it, Elizabeth realized it was always when Gwen was discussing Harrison. She was acting more like a schoolgirl than a woman of one and thirty years.
“I doubt Harrison’s used to being around children,” Elizabeth said. “He probably doesn’t realize how easily they’re frightened.” It was a plausible explanation, especially since Harrison had been visibly disturbed today. Who wouldn’t be, given the jury’s verdict?
Gwen’s eyes brightened. “That’s probably the reason. I hope you’re right.”
What Elizabeth hoped was that, if what she suspected was true and Gwen harbored tender feelings for Harrison, those feelings were reciprocated. Gwen didn’t deserve to be hurt again.
3
Someone was pounding on the door. Jason glanced at the clock, his eyes widening when he realized how late he’d slept. Nine o’clock. Normally he wakened no later than seven. Of course, last night had been anything but normal. His sleep, what little of it he’d managed to get after exhaustion had overcome him and he drifted into slumber, had been disturbed by dreams. Images of Adam Bennett’s gloating and Elizabeth Harding’s disdain had mingled with the thought that everything had changed, and not for the better. Now this. It was probably someone wanting to tar and feather him for his role in the Bennett verdict.
As he struggled into pants and a shirt, Jason’s brain registered the fact that the pounding was on the door to his residence, not the office downstairs. If he hadn’t been so groggy, he would have realized that he could not hear anything that happened at the front of his office from here. Like many buildings in this part of Cheyenne, his had an outside stairway that led to his apartment on the second floor, and his bedroom was located on the back side. Though clients had never come to his apartment, it was common knowledge that he lived here. Anyone, including a maddened crowd, could be outside.
Jason flung the door open, relief flooding through him as he ushered Richard in. The relief receded a second later when the expression on his friend’s face registered. Richard gave no smile of greeting, nothing more than a short grunt.
“Is something wrong?”
“That depends on your definition of wrong,” Richard said as he lowered himself into one of Jason’s two comfortable chairs.
The main room of the apartment was sparsely furnished. A wobbly table and two chairs met Jason’s needs on the rare occasions when he cooked for himself, and since he had few guests, he’d seen no need to place more than two chairs in the parlor. This was a temporary abode. When he fulfilled his promise to his father and married, he’d buy a house for his bride and the children he hoped they’d have. In the meantime, Jason saw no need for additional furnishings.
He sank into the other chair and waited for R
ichard to speak. His friend inclined his head, the somber expression in his brown eyes leaving no doubt that whatever he was about to say was unpleasant. “Adam Bennett’s body was found this morning. It’s a good thing the sheriff recognized his belt buckle. From what I heard, there wasn’t much left of his face. It seems someone decided to show him how Helen felt.”
Jason closed his eyes for a second, letting the words and the images they conjured settle in his brain. “Vigilante justice.” As an attorney, he abhorred the very idea. And yet, as a man, he understood the desire for revenge. Letting a confessed murderer go free was a travesty of justice.
“Any idea who’s responsible?”
The brief shake of Richard’s head confirmed what Jason assumed. “No one’s talking. There’s one good thing,” Richard continued. “The uproar over your involvement seems to be dying down faster than I’d expected.”
“You mean I won’t be a pariah. I may still have a few clients.”
“That was never in question. Tempers always cool.”
Jason wondered whether Elizabeth’s would. An hour later, he was still thinking about her as he headed toward the courthouse to file some papers on behalf of a client. Though the placard announced that she was in her office, there was no sign of her. Not that Jason had stared at the window. He hadn’t. But if his eyes had drifted that direction while he walked by, well . . . It was nothing more than curiosity about a neighbor, not the desire to see the beautiful doctor with the light brown hair again. That woman might have hair the color of honey, but her tongue was steeped in vinegar.
It was good that he hadn’t seen her, for he didn’t want another tongue-lashing. But Jason had seen no sign of patients, and that was not good for the doctor. It might be only the second day that her office was open, but she couldn’t last indefinitely without patients. She had rent to pay, and even though her new brother-in-law had once been one of Cheyenne’s cattle baron millionaires, his fortune had been lost after the disastrous winter had killed most of the cattle. Barrett had enough expenses without trying to support Elizabeth as well.
Jason muttered beneath his breath as he crossed the street. He had no reason to worry about Elizabeth Harding. It was ridiculous to care about the woman who had tried to flay his hide. He would not, he absolutely would not, walk by her office again. He didn’t want to see her; he didn’t want to think about her; and he most definitely did not want to continue thinking of her as Elizabeth. That was far too familiar. She was Dr. Harding, nothing more.
Elizabeth tried to keep a smile on her face as she reached for her hat and gloves. Mama had told her daughters that if they smiled on the outside, they’d soon be smiling on the inside. Mama hadn’t simply given the advice; she’d followed it. Even when she’d been in the final days of her life, suffering from the terrible wasting disease that had taken her to heaven decades before Elizabeth had been ready to lose her, Mama had smiled, and that had given Elizabeth hope. Mama had been smiling the day she’d told Elizabeth how proud she was of her and that she was convinced that being a doctor was God’s plan for her. “I remember how you tried to heal every wounded animal you found,” Mama had said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Soon you’ll be healing people.”
Not soon enough. Elizabeth hadn’t been able to heal Mama. In that case, it had been a matter of knowledge. Elizabeth hadn’t known enough to stop the march of Mama’s illness. Now it was a matter of opportunity. Though she knew much more than she had when Mama died, Elizabeth couldn’t heal people unless they came to her.
She drew her gloves over her fingers, smoothing out the wrinkles, then peered at the small mirror to assure herself that her hat was straight. It had been another day without a single patient. She hadn’t even had a visitor. Elizabeth paused, debating whether to carry a parasol. A look at the stiff breeze told her this was not a day for parasols, any more than it had been a day for patients or visitors. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Jason Nordling. The only reason she was thinking about him was that if he had stopped in, it would have interrupted the boredom, at least for a few minutes. Today she hadn’t even had a newspaper to read.
Keeping her smile fixed, Elizabeth locked the front door behind her, then crossed Central as she headed home. The walk was less than four blocks total. If she tried very hard and smiled the entire time, perhaps when she reached the apartment, she would put her discouragement behind her and could pretend that today had been a success. Though Gwen would undoubtedly counsel patience, Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering whether she had made a mistake. Charlotte had had customers the first day she’d opened her dress shop, and Elizabeth had expected the same.
Perhaps she should have remained in the East. While it was true that the only positions she’d been offered there were as a midwife, at least she would have had patients. That was more than she could say here. Still, there was something exciting about living in a city that was only twenty years old but boasted millionaires, an opera house, and a bakery and confectionary that rivaled any she had found in New York.
By the time she began to climb the stairs to the apartment, Elizabeth was feeling more optimistic than she had all day. This was God’s plan; she simply needed to wait for his timing. And while she waited, she could count her blessings, including the fact that Gwen and Rose were part of her life. Elizabeth’s smile faded when she heard Gwen’s voice. Her normally subdued friend was shouting.
“Thank goodness. The man had it coming.”
“So you approve?” Harrison’s voice was equally loud, and the exasperation that laced it told Elizabeth the argument had been going on for some time.
“Indeed I do.”
Elizabeth opened the door, then stopped at the sight of Gwen and Harrison glaring at each other as if they were mortal enemies. Rose had buried her face in her mother’s skirts, her fists clutching the fabric as if she feared that she would be torn away.
“What is going on?” Elizabeth demanded. “I heard you when I was only halfway up the stairs.”
Her face flushed, Gwen shot Harrison another angry look. “Harrison and I were having a minor disagreement.”
“It didn’t sound minor to me. What’s the problem?”
“Gwen approves of vigilante justice.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at Harrison’s statement. That didn’t sound like Gwen. “What do you mean?”
As she stroked Rose’s head, trying to comfort her daughter, Gwen looked at Elizabeth. “You must not have heard the news. Adam Bennett is dead.”
“He was killed by someone, or more than one someone, who believed in an eye for an eye,” Harrison explained. “The man was battered to death.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth gripped the edge of the counter, trying to quiet her nerves. Though she had heard about frontier justice, she hadn’t expected to encounter it here. “I hadn’t realized Cheyenne was so . . .”
Before she could complete the sentence, Harrison raised one brow. “Barbaric?” he suggested.
“The word is practical,” Gwen announced. “Now no one needs to fear for their lives. Justice was served.”
“Not so,” Harrison countered. “As much as I deplore their decision, the justice system found Adam Bennett not guilty.”
“And it was wrong.” Gwen’s eyes flashed with anger. “If you’d lived here as long as I have, you’d agree with me, Harrison. It’s good that Adam Bennett paid for his crime.”
Though Harrison’s lips tightened, he made no response.
Supper was a subdued meal with both Gwen and Harrison quieter than usual. Even Rose, who normally chattered about everything, was silent, seemingly apprehensive.
When they rose from the table, Harrison turned to Elizabeth. “I almost forgot. The items your sister ordered for you have arrived.”
This was the first Elizabeth had heard about an order, but something in Harrison’s demeanor told her not to question it. “Shall I pick them up now?”
“I’d appreciate that. With all the confusion of construction, I mig
ht lose them otherwise.” Brusquely, he thanked Gwen for the meal, then held the door open for Elizabeth.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Elizabeth turned to him. “Charlotte didn’t order anything for me, did she?”
Looking abashed, Harrison asked, “How did you know?”
“You’re a poor liar. Your lips twitch when you’re not telling the truth.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He ran two fingers over his lips as if admonishing them not to twitch. “I wanted to talk to you without Gwen overhearing. I need your advice.”
Elizabeth gestured toward his storefront. “My first advice is that you’d better give me something to take back or Gwen will realize this was all a ruse.”
Unlocking the front door, Harrison nodded. “I wouldn’t want that to happen.”
He ushered Elizabeth into the store. Though the workers had left for the day, the room was crowded with ladders, crates, and piles of lumber. The expansion of what had once been the Yates Dry Goods store into Charlotte’s former dress shop was still far from complete. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and tried not to sneeze at the dust that hung in the air.
“I have some nice glass vials,” Harrison said as he switched on the light. “You could use them for medicines.”
For her nonexistent patients. Keeping that thought to herself, Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you. Now what’s bothering you?”
“I wonder what I’ve done to offend Gwen, besides the disagreement today. You’re her friend. I hope you can tell me what’s wrong. It wasn’t my goal to irritate her, but I seem to have done precisely that.”
And judging from the anguish Elizabeth saw in his eyes, that disturbed Harrison. Perhaps there was more to his concern than a simple desire not to offend the woman who provided his meals. Recalling Gwen’s apparent attraction to him, Elizabeth hoped that was the case.
“Other than tonight, I don’t believe Gwen’s angry with you, but she is worried about Rose. You saw how upset Rose was last night, and you two shouting at each other today didn’t help.”
