by Merry Farmer
“That doesn’t sound particularly reassuring,” Talia said.
“It wasn’t. Half the time that just meant we got to be the ones holding the guns when we pulled heists.”
Now Talia blinked. “You robbed people?”
Trey nodded, old guilt taking the place of the old fear in his gut. “People, stagecoaches, banks. I never shot anyone, though,” he quickly told her. “In fact, the only reason I hung around with Silas and the Skunks so long was because they put food in my belly. I never developed the thrill of getting away with something or getting caught in a shoot-out the way some of the others did.”
Talia shifted her posture, an intelligent look coming over her face. “I assume since you’re sheriff here in Haskell today that you got away from those boys.”
Trey nodded. He reached up and touched the line of the scar that had nearly taken his eye. “I was nearing twenty when a stagecoach robbery went bad. Turns out the passengers had heard about gangs like ours and were armed. A couple of the other Skunks got shot. I had the good fortune of trying to yank a lady out of the stagecoach. I was trying to get her away from the gunfire, but she had a knife with her. All I remember was that the blade was shiny and there was a gem of some sort in the handle.” He shook his head. “Silas would have shot me himself if he’d known I failed to steal that knife.”
He took a deep breath, still fingering his scar. “I saw my opportunity, though, and I took it. The cut was pretty deep, and bled up a storm. I didn’t realize how bad it was at first. I fell down and stayed down, let the blood pool around my head where I lay. You’d better believe the Good Lord heard a whole mess of prayers from me that day. Last thing I remember before passing out was thinking my eye was gone. The good news was that Silas and the others left me for dead.”
“Good news?” Talia pressed a hand to her heart.
“It meant I could get away from them.”
Talia shook her head. “But you were lying there, bleeding to death.”
Trey let out a wry laugh. “Nope. Not to death. Close, though. Like they say, God must have had His hand on me. I came to after a while to find them gone. It gave me a feeling of freedom like I’d never had before. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to live.” Trey swallowed. He’d never admitted to anyone that there was a stretch of time where he hadn’t been so keen on living. The heaviness of those memories made him writhe, so he took a breath, ran his hand through his hair, and tried to lighten the mood.
“Of course, waking up meant I had to start moving and get myself to the nearest town before I died. With no money and no horse, half bled to death, it was a miracle I made it. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t stumbled across a homestead. I told the man and his wife there that I’d been a passenger on the stagecoach. They believed me.” He paused. “That was the last lie I ever told.”
Talia’s brow flew up. “Really? You’ve never lied since then?”
“No, ma’am. I promised God I wouldn’t. At least, not about anything important. I might have told Howard I liked his hat before when it was absurd and things like that, but nothing big.”
“I see.” Talia bit her lip in thought. She must have come to some sort of conclusion to those thoughts too. Her expression softened to a compassionate smile, and she reached for his arm once more. “Don’t you see, Trey? Everything turned out all right in the end.”
“Yeah,” he agreed slowly.
Her smile grew. “Things will turn out well now too. The Lord saw you through things once before and He will again. You may have lost your family, and I can see how deeply that hurt you, but so many other things in your life have had happy endings.”
His heart felt like it understood what she was trying to say much better than his stubborn, reluctant head did. “So?”
She slid her hands down his arms to take his hands, smiling up at him. “So even if bad things happen, even if I were to get sick or your friend Sam were to take a turn for the worse, you’re a strong man. You know how to carry on. You know how to turn to God to lift yourself up in adversity. You would be all right.” She squeezed his hands. “Everything will be all right.”
Then, as if to underline her point, she lifted up on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
In a flash, that kiss ignited something in his soul. He couldn’t stop himself from letting go of her hands and sliding his arms around her. Talia’s body felt so right pressed into his. Her scent enveloped him, spreading calm through him. He kissed her back, heart swelling.
She let out a sigh and sagged into him, hugging him tight. Emotion ran wild in him. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t get attached, but it was futile to argue against magic when it struck. The same hand of God that had spared him from cholera and caused Silas to leave him for dead so he could start a new life had also sent Talia to him.
As he loosened his hold on her and leaned back, sense rushed in.
“Sorry,” he whispered, hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“It’s all right,” Talia answered, as winded as if she’d run all the way from Nashville. “I…I liked it.”
A snap of fear took Trey by surprise. So much for keeping his distance and having a marriage in name only.
“I liked it too,” he said. “But maybe we should take it slow from here,” he added, feeling much better.
And also severely disappointed.
Talia smiled. “I think that’s a good idea.” She drew away from him, and Trey found himself wanting her back. “Let’s go home and make supper,” she said. “I’ll confess, I haven’t eaten since Mrs. Conway offered me a slice of fresh-baked bread at their ranch.”
Trey’s brow shot up. Reality cooled him. “You haven’t? Honey, that’s just wrong.” He took her hand. “We definitely need to go home and get some food in you.”
“I’ll just run upstairs and get Dr. Abernathy’s bag,” Talia said, trying to step away.
Trey held her fast. “We’ll come back and get that tomorrow morning,” he said. “Besides, you’ll need to come back and check on Sam anyhow.”
And strange though it felt to him, he was certain that when they did come back in the morning, Sam would be all right. Just like Talia said, everything would be all right.
Chapter 8
After her beautiful moment with Trey in the saloon, Talia’s spirits soared. Even with influenza laying half the town of Haskell low, she floated on a cloud of contentment for a week. Her marriage was off to an unconventional but strong start, Trey had shared a valuable part of his past with her, and the epidemic wasn’t as strong as it could have been.
“There you are, Mrs. Evans. I’m confident this will be the last dose of meadowsweet that you need, considering that your fever has already broken.” Talia smiled as she handed the dainty china cup to her patient.
“Land sakes, I wish you’d start calling me Josephine,” Josephine replied. “Everyone else in town does. We don’t stand on ceremony here in Haskell.”
Talia laughed, reaching for the woman’s free hand and squeezing it. “So I’ve learned. All right, then, Josephine.”
Josephine grinned in victory and sipped her tea. She followed the sip with a cough, but it was a lingering symptom of influenza and not something to be overly concerned about. When she had her breath again, she said, “Trey Knighton sure is lucky he came to his senses and sent for you. We had to twist his arm a bit, but I always knew he’d do the right thing.”
Talia giggled and stood from Josephine’s bedside. “I’m glad he came to his senses too. I think I like the man.”
Josephine gave Talia a sly look. “That smile is more than ‘like’ if you ask me.”
Talia’s only response was to beam wider.
She gathered up her various bottles and tools and returned them to Dr. Abernathy’s bag, then set out onto Prairie Avenue with a spring in her step. The day was overcast and a bit chilly, but in her heart things were as sunny and warm as could be. She loved h
er new home, she loved the position she was starting to have in the community, and yes, she was fairly certain that she loved Trey too.
“Where have you been?” Mrs. Abernathy snapped when Talia hopped happily through the door to Dr. Abernathy’s clinic.
“I’ve just come from Josephine Evans’s place.” Not even Mrs. Abernathy’s shrewish mood could dampen her spirits. “She’s doing much better.” She crossed into the examination room, unsurprised to find Dr. Abernathy there, sitting at his desk, going over papers with a frown. “You’ll be pleased to know that the Murphys are on the mend as well, and the Plovers are doing just fine.”
“Pleased, eh?” Dr. Abernathy glanced up from his paperwork, his frown darkening. “Pleased?”
Only then did Talia’s good spirits falter. “Yes. The epidemic wasn’t as serious as people thought it would be.” She crossed to the examination table, set the medical bag down, and opened it to start sorting through its contents, putting away what should be in the cabinet and laying instruments out for cleaning.
Dr. Abernathy stood, drawing himself up to his full height. “Floyd Conway was here earlier.”
“Oh?” Talia cast a brief look at him over her shoulder. Dr. Abernathy was standing closer than she would have wanted him to. She could feel his dark mood radiating from him, but it wasn’t just disapproval or anger she felt. Her thoughts flew back to the jail and to Trey. She would have liked to have had him there with her right about then. “Is Mr. Conway all right?”
Dr. Abernathy stepped even closer. “Do you know what he wanted?”
“No.” Talia turned, only to find herself suddenly wedged up against the examination table with Dr. Abernathy staring down at her. She was grateful to be wearing a blouse with a high neck.
“He says his shoulder has been hurting him.” Dr. Abernathy ran his fingers along Talia’s shoulder. A sick shiver raced down Talia’s spine. “He says he thinks he just overworked it, but he wanted to check with you to see if there is anything he should be doing for it.”
“Me?” Talia’s voice cracked on the single word. She managed to squirm away from Dr. Abernathy on the pretense of returning the almost empty bottle of willow bark powder to the cupboard. “What would he want to ask me for? You’re the doctor.” In fact, she knew good and well why one of Dr. Abernathy’s patients would come to her for advice instead of him, but at that moment, she wasn’t willing to risk hurting Dr. Abernathy’s ego any more than it was already hurt.
“Are you two talking about Floyd Conway?” Mrs. Abernathy called from the other room. She appeared in the doorway with a dust-cloth in one hand, glancing with narrowed eyes between her husband and Talia. Talia wondered if she was in the habit of cleaning the waiting room or if she was keeping an eye on her husband, or more likely, her.
“Mind your own business, Jill,” Dr. Abernathy snapped. “Talia and I need to have a little discussion. In private.” He didn’t take his eyes off Talia the entire time he spoke.
Talia had been around enough doctors who thought they could take advantage of nurses to know that she could not let Mrs. Abernathy leave the room. At the same time, the look of pure hatred that Mrs. Abernathy was giving her didn’t bode well. “I’ll tell Mr. Conway that he should consult you about all medical matters next time I see him,” she said, closing the cabinet door after putting the willow bark away and starting for the waiting room. “In the meantime, I should probably get home so I can start supper for Trey.”
“Stop right there,” Dr. Abernathy snapped. His voice was so commanding that Talia stopped, then twisted to face him. The spark of anger mingled with lust in his eyes left her hands tingling with fear. “You’re not going anywhere until we get a few things straight.”
“What things?” Talia managed to croak.
“Your position here, for one.”
Mrs. Abernathy sniffed and crossed her arms.
Dread filled Talia’s stomach as if she’d walked into a trap. “M-my position?”
Dr. Abernathy took a menacing step toward her. “If you’re going to continue to serve as my assistant, which I know you want—” The way he said it made Talia feel dirty. “—then you’re going to have to learn your place. You’re a nurse, a woman. You don’t see patients on your own and you don’t make recommendations to them. Your job is to do what I say when I say it and how I say it.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Abernathy said, though her eyes darted back and forth between her husband and Talia as fast as lightning, and her cheeks had taken on a pink tinge.
Talia took a half step toward the waiting room. “I’m not sure—”
“And if you’re very good and do exactly what I want you to do—” His eyes narrowed as he raked her with a glance. “—then I won’t share your sordid little past with the town.”
Talia blinked, a lump catching in her throat. “My…past?”
“Don’t think we don’t know what you are.” Mrs. Abernathy launched into her, stepping between Talia and her husband. “Vivian was suspicious from the moment you first came to town. She and I did a little digging. It’s amazing how easy it is to find out information that was printed in the newspapers in towns like, oh, Nashville, when you telegraph the right person.”
“Newspapers?” Talia’s voice was weak with what she already knew Mrs. Abernathy and Vivian Bonneville had found. “I…I don’t know….”
“You can’t avoid the truth forever,” Mrs. Abernathy went on. “How do you think the good people of Haskell will feel once they learn that their influenza was cured by witchcraft?”
Talia winced. There it was. The bizarre yet damaging accusations that had been hurled against her were back again.
“I am not a witch,” she said, standing tall and holding her chin up. “Surely, you must be sensible enough people to know that there is no such thing as witchcraft and magic.”
“We know that,” Dr. Abernathy said. Judging by the wary look in Mrs. Abernathy’s eyes, Talia wasn’t so sure he was speaking for the both of them. “But there are plenty of ignorant folks in this town who believe in the occult. People who would just as soon see you burned at the stake the way they used to deal with witches.”
“I am not a witch,” Talia repeated.
“And if you want to keep it that way,” Dr. Abernathy went on, “then you will keep your mouth shut unless I ask you to open it.” The glint in his eyes twisted his demand into something a thousand times lewder than the words alone suggested. The fact that he would make those suggestions with his wife standing right there revolted Talia.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, too shocked to raise her voice above a whisper. She turned and pushed past Mrs. Abernathy into the waiting room, then out into the street.
As soon as she was off the Abernathys’ property, charging down Prairie Avenue to Station Street so she could take the shortest route home, she scrubbed her arms with both hands, as if washing off the conversation she couldn’t believe she’d just had. The worst part was that if the Abernathys did spread the story of the accusations from her past around town, there was nothing she could do to counter them. And if she told anyone how Dr. Abernathy had propositioned her, no doubt that would be twisted and used against her. She knew how these things went. She’d gone through it all before. Once the label of witch was placed on her forehead, it was inevitable that she would be called a seductress for bewitching Dr. Abernathy into lusting for her.
Trey was seated behind the desk at the jail as she rushed through the door, a sullen-looking man slouched on the bench in the cell behind him. Both men glanced up as Talia bolted for the stairs.
“Talia?” Trey stood from the desk. “What’s wrong?”
Talia sent him a miserable look before heading up the stairs. She wasn’t about to start the rumors herself by discussing the Abernathys’ threats with the man in the cell listening in. Thankfully, Trey climbed up the stairs after her.
“Hey! Where you two going?” the man in the cell shouted after them. “The least you could do is provide a
show while I’m stuck in here.” He sounded drunk.
Talia ignored him, only stopping to catch a breath when she reached the relative safety of their apartment. Then her breaths came in rough gasps that threatened to turn to sobs.
“What’s wrong?” Trey rushed to her when he reached the top of the stairs, closing her in a hug. “Are you sick? Did you catch the influenza?”
Talia shook her head. She leaned into his heat for a moment, then pushed back. “It’s worse than that.” She swallowed.
“What could be worse than that?” A relieved smile twitched at the corners of Trey’s mouth.
Talia send a mournful look up at him, debating how much detail to share. He was her husband, so it didn’t feel right to hold anything back. “Dr. Abernathy was a little too familiar with me,” she began, weighing her words.
“What?” Trey barked before she could go on. “I’ll throttle him.”
Talia shook her head and pressed her hands against his chest, feeling his suddenly pounding heart. “He only made suggestions. He didn’t take it further.” Well, not much further. She shuddered at the memory of the way he’d touched her shoulder. “But there’s more.”
“More?” Trey stepped away, pushing a hand through his hair, eyes wide.
Talia sighed. “He was upset because one of his patients came to his office looking for me for advice. But the worst of it is that Mrs. Abernathy and Vivian Bonneville found articles in a Nashville newspaper about my past that they’re threatening to make public.”
Trey frowned, his angry energy softening into curiosity. “Your past?”
“It’s nothing like that.” She shook her head, not knowing exactly what he was thinking, but guessing nonetheless. “They found those articles in which I was accused of being a witch.”
Trey growled before saying, “But that’s preposterous. There’s no such thing as witches.”
“The Abernathys seem to think that if they bring out the articles and spread the rumor that less enlightened citizens of Haskell will believe it and take action.”
