An Irresistible Temptation

by Sydney Jane Baily

  Eliza pursed her lips in reply.

  “Ma’am,” Riley said, adding a nod. Then his eyes fixed on Sophie’s for a moment.

  “Sophie,” he said. “I enjoyed the conversation.”

  He tossed some bills on the table and turned to his fiancée. “Eliza, I’m done here. If you intend to eat, perhaps you can join these ladies.” And he walked out, slowly, deliberately.

  “Well, I never,” Eliza declared. And without a word to either of them, she strode out after her man, pausing to kick at an empty chair by the door, sending it skidding a few feet before she slammed out of Fuller’s.

  Sarah still had hold of Sophie’s arm, which she quickly released. “Sorry about that. I hope she wasn’t too unpleasant.”

  They sat back down at the table. Sophie shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.” She thought about Reed’s former paramour, Helen Belgrave. The widow could make women tremble and grown men cry. Eliza wasn’t even in her class.

  “I really did enjoy the company, though. Riley told me all about San Francisco.” She lapsed into silence while Sarah placed her order and chatted with Jessie.

  It suddenly dawned on Sophie that Riley, with his seemingly good nature and easy smile, had been foolhardy enough to ask a woman like Eliza Prentice to marry him. She swallowed. He must truly love Eliza—much more than Philip had loved her. She sipped at the fresh cup of coffee placed before her and thought about that puzzling fact.

  Obviously, Eliza was beautiful, but . . . Sophie couldn’t picture her even standing close to Riley when he was covered head to toe in trail dust. It made no sense, so it must be true love for both of them; either that or he was easily caught by a swaying bustle and a shock of golden hair.

  As for Eliza . . . well, thinking of Riley, Sophie could see why Eliza would put up with dirt and separation for the opportunity to be in his muscled arms and kissing his sensual mouth. Sophie shook her head to clear it and tried hard to focus her attention on what Sarah was saying.

  *****

  A day later, a telegram came from Charlotte asking Sophie how she was faring. Sarah brought it out to the house and Sophie used the excuse to write back and ask Charlotte to find out what she could about the music opportunities in San Francisco. She thought there was an opera house; if so, they might need a pianist. Or perhaps a music conservatory needed a teacher. It was useful having a sister-in-law who knew editors around the country and had the wherewithal to investigate nearly anything.

  She sent the telegram the next day and had only to wait for a response. She found she was in no hurry to vacate Spring City after all. Everything seemed calm in Spring after the incident at Fuller’s. Sophie avoided Riley in order to escape any further interaction with Eliza Prentice.

  “What is that woman’s problem?” Sophie asked Sarah a couple days later when she was sitting with Sarah in the office and Eliza marched by the window, looking strident. “She seems very . . . tightly wound.”

  Sarah had laughed. “That’s a kind way to put it.” But she sighed. “Let’s see if I can shed a little light on her: An unhappy little girl, with no mother from when she was very tiny, and a very powerful but distant father, and now a spoiled young woman.” She tapped her fingers on her desk. “That’s Eliza’s story. Don’t worry about her, dear. She’s either a force to reckon with or to avoid. Charlotte always chose the latter.”

  “Charlotte is a better person than I am, then. I feel as if I want to poke Eliza with a stick, just to see what she’ll do.”

  “Like a rattlesnake?” Sarah suggested.

  “How does Riley stand it?” She wished she could retrieve the words, as she saw Sarah pause. She had gone too far now into the familiarity of their lives. But it seemed so removed from her own real life that it was almost like watching a play, and she wanted to know more about the actors.

  “Sorry,” she said immediately. “It’s none of my business.”

  “That’s all right. Between Riley and Eliza, they’ve made it everyone’s business anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Public displays like the one in Fuller’s the other day are nothing new. We’ve all been treated to an Eliza tantrum of one kind or another. It’s better when Riley’s away, of course. Though this time when he leaves, I believe he’s planning on taking her with him.”

  That thought made Sophie cringe though she kept her reaction hidden.

  “So their wedding is planned?”

  “Yup, but Eliza has put it off; twice, I believe.”

  “And what does her father think of these delays?”

  “Ah, Elijah Prentice is an odd one. Surly, controlling—except where Eliza is concerned. He owns most of these buildings, and makes us pay our rent on time, let me tell you. But he never leaves his house anymore.”

  “How unusual,” Sophie commented.

  “He may be an invalid. Only Eliza and their housekeeper, and Riley, of course, see him.”

  Sophie started to feel sorry for the young woman. Maybe she was tormented by an unhappy home life and thus tormented everyone around her in turn.

  “You’re best to stay out of it,” Sarah cautioned, seeing the thoughtful look on Sophie’s face.

  “No doubt,” Sophie agreed, “though maybe—”

  The sound of an explosion, the shaking of the ground stopped her mid-sentence. The two women looked at each other, eyes wide. Doc came flying out of the back room.

  “What in the name of God almighty?” and he ran straight out the door. They picked up their skirts and high-tailed it after him.

  *****

  The groans of the injured came through the black clouds of smoke. The train’s engine was on its side as was the first car that followed and the second was tilted wildly, with the last car and caboose having jumped the tracks but remaining upright.

  Everywhere was pandemonium. Most of the town’s people had come running. Sophie watched Doc disappear into the acrid smoke that burned her throat with every breath. He came back moments later to bark out orders for stretchers to be made and for Sarah to grab his medical bag. Sarah was already kneeling beside a crying woman lying prone with her child in her arms.

  “I’ll get the bag,” Sophie called out to no one in particular, and she started to run. Breathless by the time she got back to Doc’s, she saw Riley’s horse tethered outside, panting as hard as she was. The door was open and she wasn’t surprised to find Riley in the exam room, already gathering supplies. He looked up at her footsteps.

  “I came back for Doc’s bag, but you already have it,” she said.

  “No, this is mine.” He was stuffing bandages into it. “Doc’s is over there.” He gestured with his head. “Grab it, would you?”

  She was frozen for a moment, confused as to why he had an identical black medical bag. “Sophie, please hurry,” he urged her and she broke into action.

  “And smelling salts, right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, “in there,” gesturing to a cabinet. She grabbed a handful of little vials.

  “Are you ready?” he called over his shoulder, already striding out. Her arms full, she struggled to stuff everything into Doc’s bag and ran after Riley. He was waiting next to his horse, and without a by-your-leave, he lifted her into the saddle.

  “Oh,” she started to protest that she couldn’t possibly take his horse, when he swung up behind her.

  “Oh,” she said again, as his arms came around her to grab the reins and hold his bag in front of her. She was well and truly squished between the pommel, the two bags . . . and Riley.

  “Hold on,” he said against her ear and they were off, the fastest ride she’d ever experienced, right past Jessie carrying blankets, right into the thick smoke, right into the injured and the saviors. Riley slid off his horse before they’d even stopped. He grabbed both bags and looked back up at her.

  “Tether him to a tree, out of the smoke, will you?”

  “Of course,” she said; he gave her a grateful nod and turned away. He hadn’t asked he
r if she could ride, she thought, gripping the reins and squeezing Riley’s horse for all she was worth to stay on. If a carriage was attached, even a fast-as-lightning Tilbury, she’d be in her element, but astride the horse was another matter altogether.

  She managed to stay on and make it go in the direction of the trees, at which point, Sophie half slid, half fell off its back and tied the rope around the base of the trunk.

  She dove back into the chaos. Everywhere people were reaching out their arms for assistance. By that time, stretchers had been fashioned out of broom handles and blankets, and plain old boards, and the injured were being carried back, some to Doc’s waiting room, some right into his exam room and surgery, and some to spare beds at Fuller’s.

  For her part, Sophie found it easy to offer comfort wherever she could, either wrapping a blanket around someone in shock or holding someone’s hand until either Riley or Doc came over to examine for broken bones or head injuries. At last, she found Sarah, blood on her hands, grime on her face, matching Sophie’s own.

  With their arms around each other’s waist, they walked back to the surgery. Sarah explained that they would be needed long into the night if there were bones to set.

  “Are you up to it?”

  Sophie was about to answer when she saw Eliza Prentice sitting on her comfortable front porch, with a book in one hand and what appeared to be a glass of iced tea in the other.

  Sarah followed her gaze. “That’s just how the Prentices are. She doesn’t know any better.”

  “Ridiculous,” Sophie muttered. Then she called out, “Miss Prentice, why don’t you bring some of that tea to people who may be parched from the smoke?”

  Eliza stared her down coldly, and Sophie tried to put her out of her head. They were nearly at Doc’s where a crowd of people were milling around, some passengers from the train, trying to check on loved ones, others just curious.

  Sarah pushed through them, dragging Sophie with her.

  “Good people, please go to Fuller’s where Jessie will be sure to take care of you if you’re hungry. Let the doctors do their job.” And they went into the packed waiting room where many lay on the floor looking only slightly better than they had earlier.

  Another table had been set up next to Sarah’s desk, with a sheet over both; together, they made a makeshift examination and surgical table. Riley was already busy setting a man’s broken arm while he groaned in pain, his wife holding his other hand.

  “What shall I do?” Sophie asked.

  “Whatever Riley wants,” Sarah said. “Ask him. I’ll go help my Doc.” Sophie watched her go and swallowed. She felt out of her element, having only ever seen the occasional carriage accident but never having had to nurse anyone sicker than a sibling with a fever.

  “Riley?” She said, after going up to him on quiet feet so as not to disturb his ministrations. “I’m here to help.”

  He shot her a grateful glance. “I could use some water. You, too, I bet,” he said to his patient. “You’re gonna be just fine. My pretty nurse here has all sorts of tricks up her sleeve.”

  He turned away from the patient, his mouth close to Sophie’s ear, so she alone could hear his next words. “Quickly now, grab the morphine bottle from my bag. There’s a measure with it. Put a teaspoon into half a glass of water and let’s get it into this man. His arm is broken in three places and it’s gonna hurt like hell.”

  She did as she was told. And she kept on doing it for the next seven hours until everyone was bandaged or stitched and resting on a bed somewhere in the town.

  After the last patient had been tended, Doc lay on Riley’s makeshift table, his coat balled up under his head, with Sarah in her chair, her head resting on her husband’s stomach. Riley and Sophie were on the waiting room chairs, their legs stretched out in front of them.

  “Jesus! What a day,” said Doc without opening his eyes. “Makes me remember why I went in to medicine. Not for boils and women with the vapors.”

  Sarah chuckled against her husband’s belly, not even lifting her head, and Sophie opened her eyes to see Doc stroking his wife’s hair. She looked at Riley, whose head was back against the wall, his eyes closed.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me Riley was a doctor?” Sophie wondered into the silence.

  “I’m not,” Riley said, eyes still closed.

  “Yet,” said Doc.

  “Less than a year,” added Sarah.

  “That’s what you do in San Francisco, attend medical school?” Sophie asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Hell,” said Doc, “he knows more than most of them doctors anyway. Been helping me since he was thirteen.”

  “Twelve,” Riley corrected.

  Sophie was impressed by his skill. She’d flinched when having to help him clean a leg wound, and thought she’d faint dead away when he started stitching the man’s flesh neatly together. How she stayed on her feet to blot the blood so Riley could see to finish, she didn’t know.

  “You did great, by the way,” he said, lifting his head and looking right into her eyes. Sophie felt a flush of warmth shoot through her.

  “Didn’t she though.” Sarah agreed. “Maybe you want to go into nursing.”

  “No, thanks. I’m just glad it’s over. Does anyone know what happened?”

  “A buck,” Doc said.

  “A large one, on the tracks,” Riley added. “Maybe it was deaf or plain ornery, but it’s dead now.”

  “No one on the train died, did they?” Sophie asked.

  “Nope,” said Riley. “They were lucky. The railroad’ll be sending out people to clear it all away and get the trains moving again. Nothing stops the railroad.”

  It was dark out and Sophie realized all she wanted was to get home and get to bed. And Alfred needed feeding and watering. She rose to her feet.

  “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be heading home.”

  Riley stood up immediately, then stretched up his arms and stretched his neck, side to side. “I’ll take you.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Sophie said, looking to see if Sarah and Doc were coming. She imagined riding on his horse again, pressed back against the length of his lean, muscled body, and she knew that wasn’t a good idea, not when she was tired. Luckily, Sarah stood up.

  “Sophie and I will head home together,” she said, brooking no argument.

  “I’ll see you both home,” Riley said. “It’s on my way.”

  “What about Doc?” Sophie asked. Riley laughed as if it were an absurd question.

  “He’ll sleep in the back room, just in case. It’s what he’s always done, when someone’s birthing, dying, or anything in between.”

  The three of them stepped outside into the cool night air. As if she’d been waiting, Eliza alighted from her wagon. She had a basket with her.

  “Here’s my talented man,” she said. “I’ve brought you a hot meal, some soup and some fresh-baked bread.”

  Riley sighed. “I think I’m too tired to eat, Eliza. I’m was going to head home.” Sophie couldn’t help but notice how clean and fresh Eliza looked in comparison to the rest of them—“battered and bloodied” came to mind.

  “Nonsense, you have to eat. See, I had your horse brought up.” He was tied to the back of Eliza’s wagon. “Get in, Riley. I’m taking you home and feeding you. And that’s that.”

  “What about the ladies?” he asked, casting a look at them, his eyes fixing on Sophie’s.

  “Don’t you worry about us, Riley,” Sarah said. “You were a wonderful healer today. Now, go spend some time with your fiancée and the two of us will get ourselves home.”

  Sophie spared him a glance and found him still staring at her. Quickly, she looked away, grateful when Sarah grabbed her hand and started across the street to the wagon.

  “Thanks again,” Riley called after them, and Sophie knew it was for her.

  She simply nodded and waved, not wanting to look back and see Eliza with her perfectly clean hand on Riley’s arm. But
she heard Eliza add, “Riley, I even made you some fresh iced tea.”

  That made Sophie turn, just as Eliza shot her a glance of pure malice.

  Sophie shuddered. She couldn’t get out of this town fast enough.

  Chapter Five

  The sun splayed across her face, awaking her the next day. Stretching, she sat up and realized it was late. Very late for her. Back home, noises of the city always had her up early. Here, no noises intruded to wake her, and she’d found herself sleeping longer each morning. Today, she had an excuse. The previous evening’s toil could be blamed for her staying in bed until the sun was high in the sky.

  She dressed and ate and went to the piano, working on a song she hadn’t realized she was writing in bits and pieces over the past few days until it came out of her all at once, flowing easily from her head to her fingers.

  Lost in the music, she didn’t hear him until he spoke.

  “Damn. That was beautiful.”

  She jumped up.

  “Riley, how did you . . .?”

  She left off, trying to catch her breath at finding him standing in the parlor doorway. Her heart was racing, she couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t covered in grime; in fact, he looked very good, as if he’d taken extra care with his appearance. She wanted to tell him that he looked good either way and bit her own tongue, unsure what impropriety might pop out.

  “I was about to knock when I heard the most unbelievable music . . . and it was you,” he said, wonder in his voice, his eyes fixed on her as if he hadn’t seen her before. “The door was unlocked,” he added.

  Sophie was blushing again for the second time in as many days. What was it with this man? However, she saw no reason to pretend modesty. She was good and she knew it. So all she said was, “Thank you.”

  Then what? What did he want? “Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?”

  “I’d rather hear you play some more,” he said, coming closer and taking a seat in the parlor.