Kansas Courtship

by Victoria Bylin

“Why would she do that?”

  He said nothing.

  “Zeb!” Cassandra scolded. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Now he sounded pouty. Annoyed, he lowered his arms and struck a more casual pose. “She needs a place to practice. Doc’s office is a wreck, and she can’t work in our parlor. I told her she’s on her own. I can’t help her.”

  “You mean you won’t help her.”

  “I’m busy.”

  His sister shrugged. “It’s all right. She doesn’t need your help. I told her I’d ask Percy to find an office for her.”

  That figured. The Easterners were ganging up on him. “What’s he going to do?” Zeb sneered. “Give her his office?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassandra replied. “But he’ll be polite about it, which is more than I can say for you. The whole town knows you yelled at her.”

  “Did the whole town tell you she yelled back?”

  Cassandra’s eyes twinkled. “I hear she put you in your place.”

  Zeb said nothing.

  “You deserved it,” she added. “Why would you show her Doc’s place? It’s a mess.”

  He’d hoped to run her out of town, but he couldn’t admit that foolishness to Cassandra. She had him cornered. He couldn’t lie and the truth condemned him again, so he took a side road. “She deserves to know what she’s up against. Another tornado could hit. Indians could strike. You know the risks.”

  Her eyes misted. “You’re thinking about the twins.”

  Those lost children were never far from his mind. Everyone in High Plains had helped with the search, to no avail.

  Cassandra stood and lifted their plates. “I think about them a lot. Tornadoes don’t hit in Boston. Sometimes I want to go home so badly—”

  “I know, Cassie.” He used the pet name she’d asked him to forget. “Just don’t do it with Percy, okay?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” She scrunched her face as if she were five years old again. “Percival treats me like a lady. He likes music and sometimes he quotes Shakespeare. But then there’s Clint…He doesn’t know about any of those things. He’s gruff and tough and barely talks.”

  “A man doesn’t need words to show what he means.”

  Cassandra looked at him as if he were crazy, but Zeb knew what he meant. He understood Clint just fine. The man loved Cassandra. He was working extra jobs to be able to marry her. That said “love” to Zeb. He knew because he’d loved Frannie with the same intensity. He’d never love like that again. He rubbed his jaw and felt bristles. Shaving took time he didn’t have. So did speaking with Cassandra, but he wanted to know more about the lady doctor. “What else did Dr. Mitchell say?”

  “About Percy and Clint?”

  “About everything.”

  “Mostly we talked about clothes.” Cassandra sounded dreamy. “She has wonderful gowns.”

  “I didn’t notice,” he said in a mocking tone. Of course he’d noticed. When he blinked, he saw green silk.

  Cassandra ignored him. “I asked if she’d met Percy and she said yes, that he seemed like a gentleman.”

  “A fellow snob is more like it.”

  Cassandra sighed. “You don’t know him at all.”

  “I know enough,” Zeb argued. “The man hasn’t done a day’s work in his life. Now, take Clint—”

  “Clint thinks he knows everything. Percival doesn’t tell me what to do.”

  Zeb had to grit his teeth. “Clint’s just trying to keep you safe. And so am I. I can’t stop you from seeing Percy, Cassandra. Just be careful.” He hated the thought of his little sister getting her heart broken by someone like Frannie.

  Cassandra stood with the dirty dishes in hand, a reminder they hadn’t always had servants in spite of her snooty tone. “If you don’t mind, Zeb. I’ll take Dr. Mitchell’s advice instead.”

  His jaw tensed. “What did she tell you?”

  “I won’t say.” Cassandra put her nose in the air. “You’d just get mad.”

  “I’m mad already.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I want to know…What did she tell you?”

  Cassandra had him by the scruff and she knew it. Chuckling, she headed for the door to the kitchen. “If you want to know what she’s saying to people, ask her yourself.”

  Zeb didn’t think folks would take her side, but he had been rotten to her.

  Cassandra watched him thoughtfully. Then, as if she knew something Zeb didn’t, as if that brazen redhead had enlisted his little sister in her army of pushy women, Cassandra winked at him. “See you later, big brother.”

  She swished through the doorway, leaving Zeb mad enough to hunt up Dr. Mitchell himself. Not right away. He had work to do. But later…after he’d counted to ten a dozen times and figured out what he wanted to do besides kiss her. He had to find a replacement so she could go back to New York. If she didn’t leave soon, the town would go crazy and so would he.

  “Everyone means everyone,” Nora said out loud as she left the boardinghouse.

  She’d finished a late breakfast and was headed to Garrison Mill. Its owner would doubtlessly bite her head off, but she had to take that chance. In the past few days, she’d visited everyone in High Plains except the man who’d hired her. Pete and Rebecca had been kind and she’d had a good visit with the Logan clan at the Circle-L, but most people had been reserved at best. A few had been hostile. As Nora turned down Main Street, she recalled various comments.

  Mrs. Morrow, the dressmaker, had looked her up and down. I’m in perfect health, miss. You should try another town.

  Winnie Morrow, her daughter, hadn’t said a word. She was either shy or unfriendly.

  Worst of all had been her visit to the mercantile. Mrs. Johnson had not so subtly questioned her morals. A woman in medicine? That’s indecent.

  Nora had run into that criticism before. Yes, she’d seen the male body, but there was nothing handsome about an old man with pleurisy or a young one who’d been gut shot. When it came to matters of life and death, Nora didn’t see male and female. She saw suffering.

  Last night, exhausted and despairing, she’d opened her Bible to the verse about loving her enemies as herself. She didn’t want to be at odds with anyone. Instead, she found herself at odds with almost everyone and especially Zeb Garrison. As his name came to mind, she’d thought of her promise to visit everyone and had accepted the inevitable. She had to call on him at the mill.

  What she’d say, she didn’t know. She only knew she had to make this effort or face going home in failure. At the thought of marrying Albert Bowers, she shuddered. Zeb Garrison had his faults, but being stodgy wasn’t one of them. She’d been up half the night arguing with him in her head. Sometimes she won the argument and walked away. Sometimes he winked and asked her to supper. Sighing, she scolded herself for such silly thoughts. Zeb Garrison didn’t like her and never would.

  As she neared the schoolhouse, Nora recalled her first meeting with Zeb’s sister. Pete had asked Edward Gunderson, his helper and brother-in-law, to take her to nearby ranches. At the Circle-L, she’d visited with Emmeline and met Cassandra and a cowboy named Clint. Cassandra had taken a day off preparing for school to visit Emmeline. She’d been friendly and full of questions about New York. The girl had also mentioned Percival Walker, the town attorney, at least five times.

  Nora had met Mr. Walker and been unimpressed. He’d struck her as shallow and vain. On the other hand, she’d enjoyed Cassandra and had promised to loan her a Godey’s Lady’s Book. She had it tucked in her medical bag now.

  “Dr. Nora!”

  She turned and saw Cassandra waving her arm as she crossed the mill road. Nora stopped in front of the schoolhouse and waved.

  When the brunette reached her, she held out her skirt to show it off. “How do I look?”

  “Lovely.” The rose-colored gown had a striped bodice and white sleeves. A straw bonnet with pink ribbons gave a sheen to the girl’s dark hair.

  “Do you think Percy wi
ll like it?”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “Good. We’re having lunch today.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “He asks me every Wednesday. This is the fourth time.”

  “Are you courting?”

  She blushed. “I hope so.”

  What would that be like, Nora wondered, to blush at the mention of a man’s name? How would it feel to be pursued? Maybe someday she’d know, but she had to dampen those thoughts until she succeeded as a physician.

  Cassandra adjusted the tilt of her bonnet. “No matter what happens with Percy, I’m taking your advice.”

  Nora recalled chatting with the girl but not offering guidance. “What did I say?”

  “That a woman needs the courage of her convictions.”

  “That’s right.”

  She’d been talking with Emmeline and Cassandra on the porch. Bess had been with them, listening to every word as Nora described her struggle to become a doctor. Indirectly she’d been reaching out to Bess. Fear had stolen the girl’s voice. Only courage could bring it back. Looking at Cassandra, Nora wondered why the comment had hit home.

  The brunette took a breath. “You inspired me. I’m thinking of going back to Boston.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t.” Nora couldn’t imagine leaving High Plains. She already loved the high sky and rolling hills.

  Cassandra’s eyes lost their eagerness. “Zeb won’t like it, but I don’t care what he thinks.”

  Nora held in a groan. Unknowingly, she’d given Zeb Garrison another reason to resent her. He’d no doubt consider her a bad influence on his sister. “Have you mentioned it to him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It’s a long trip,” Nora said. “Do you have family in Boston?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Then how—”

  The brunette blushed. “Percy’s going back in a month, just as soon as he settles some business.”

  Nora envied the blush of excitement on Cassandra’s cheeks, but she questioned the girl’s wisdom. Did she have genuine feelings for Percy, or did she miss Boston? Nora suspected the latter and regretted sharing the Godey’s Lady’s Book. The pictures in the magazine would make Boston shine. She considered reneging on her promise to share it, but Cassandra’s eyes drifted to the bag. A promise was a promise, so Nora opened the case. “I brought the Lady’s book.”

  Cassandra grabbed it and squealed. “It’s so new!”

  “It’s from June.” She’d bought it the day she’d left New York.

  “Thank you.” The girl clutched it to her chest. “If I do go back, I want to fit in.”

  “You fit here, too,” Nora said diplomatically.

  Cassandra ignored her. “Who are you visiting today?”

  “Your brother.”

  “I’ll walk with you.” She indicated a path to the river. “Let’s go this way. It’s pretty.”

  Nora appreciated the company and the shortcut. The mill road had ruts, dust and the danger of heavy wagons. The river filled her with peace.

  As they ambled past the schoolhouse, Cassandra glanced at the color plate in the magazine. They talked about fashion, then the conversation turned to Nora’s search for an office. Cassandra said she’d ask Percival to help. Nora appreciated the offer, but she doubted Mr. Walker’s integrity. Not so subtly, he’d quizzed her about her father’s profession—he owned a brickworks—then he’d suggested investments. If her father took his advice, she suspected Mr. Walker would earn a sizable fee.

  He’d impressed her as self-centered, but she’d been wrong about people before. Her father had been quick to set her straight. Don’t judge too quickly, Nora. People aren’t always what they seem.

  Walking with Cassandra, she wondered if that observation fit Zeb Garrison and decided it didn’t. He was exactly what he seemed to be.

  Charming and rude.

  Generous but narrow-minded.

  Kind to others but arrogant to her. She still hadn’t decided what she’d say to him today. The Bible told her to love her enemies. She wanted to honor her faith, but Mr. Garrison and his prejudice tested her goodwill.

  With the Godey’s book tucked against her chest, Cassandra plucked a sunflower from the grass. “I was wondering. Have you ever been to a ball?”

  “Just one.” She’d been seventeen and Albert Bowers had asked her to dance. He’d smelled like liniment.

  “I’ve been to three.” Cassandra stared across the river as if she’d already gone back to Boston. “Zeb was engaged to Frannie, and I—”

  “Who’s Frannie?”

  Her brows shot up. “I shouldn’t have mentioned her. Zeb refuses to say her name.”

  Nora still had questions, but she also had an answer. A woman named Frannie had left her mark on Zeb Garrison’s heart. Whether he’d been a cad and she’d left, or Frannie had left and he’d become bitter, she didn’t know.

  Cassandra rolled the stem of the sunflower between her fingers. It twirled like a dancer. “If it weren’t for Frannie, we’d still be in Boston. We’d have a town house, and I’d be going to balls.”

  Nora didn’t want to pry, but she needed information. The more she knew about Zeb Garrison, the better she could cope with his bias against female doctors. “What did Frannie do?”

  “She jilted him.”

  Nora didn’t like being called a spinster, but being left at the altar would have hurt more. “That must have been awful.”

  Cassandra shuddered. “Frannie showed up at the church just minutes before the wedding. She asked me to get Zeb.”

  Nora cringed for him. “I can’t imagine.”

  “He talked to her, then he came down the aisle by himself, said something to the minister and told everyone to go home, that there wouldn’t be a wedding. I’ve never seen him so…so hurt.”

  Clearly more than Zeb Garrison’s pride had been wounded that day. Frannie had broken his heart.

  Cassandra tossed the sunflower to the ground. “He disappeared for three days. He didn’t tell anyone where he went, not even me. A week later, he and Will headed West. They scouted out land for this town, and now here I am.”

  “It’s quite a change.” A good one, Nora thought. She loved Kansas, but she understood Cassandra’s homesickness. Empty meadows and dirt roads were a world away from city shops.

  The girl turned wistful. “That first ball—it was wonderful. Even Zeb had a good time.”

  Nora pictured him dancing to the beat of an orchestra, dressed in black as he matched steps with a woman in fine silk. He had an inborn grace, an aristocratic air that explained his arrogance. She thought of the mill and the capital needed to start such a venture. “You must have been well-to-do.”

  Cassandra laughed. “Not at all. We grew up poor in a town outside of Boston. My father worked in the mill and so did Zeb.”

  “It’s a big step to go from working in a mill to owning one.” Nora respected his effort. “How did it happen?”

  “Zeb owes everything to Jon Gridley. Have you heard of him?”

  When Nora shook her head, Cassandra told how her brother had apprenticed with a famous millwright and inherited the man’s wealth and his love of engineering. Cassandra finished with a sigh. “Don’t ask Zeb about the mill. He’ll bore you to tears.”

  Nora didn’t think he’d be boring at all. It took a keen mind to design a mill and a bold man to build one in Kansas. Nora loved the open spaces, but she wasn’t blind to the risks of weather and Indian attacks. On her list of Zeb Garrison’s traits, she had to add courageous. Crazy, too. But no crazier than she’d been for making the same journey.

  Cassandra peered at Nora through her thick lashes. “May I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you come to High Plains?”

  “To practice medicine.” The oft-repeated words tripped off her tongue.

  “Why here?” The brunette waved her arm to indicate the lush meadow. �
��Why not stay in New York?”

  “There’s bias against female physicians—a lot of it,” she replied. “When I saw your brother’s advertisement, I jumped at the chance to start a practice of my own. I’m hoping the need will outweigh the prejudice.”

  “I hope so, too.” Cassandra grinned. “But get ready. Zeb’s going to fight you.”

  “I’ll have to fight back,” Nora said easily. “It won’t be the first time.”

  As they rounded a bend in the path, she saw a low waterfall. The river spilled over the edge and raced through scattered boulders worn smooth by time. Below the falls stood Garrison Mill. The tall building had wood siding, a pitched roof, small windows and large doors for loading. A wagon stood ready in the yard. Near it she saw a saddled bay gelding. The creak and spill of the waterwheel mixed high tones with low ones, reminding her of Zeb Garrison’s quarrelsome ways.

  Nora wouldn’t be haughty today. She wouldn’t be proud, and she certainly wouldn’t wink at him. She’d come in peace. To prove it, she’d acknowledge she’d been a bit harsh at their last meeting, then she’d ask him about the mill and how it worked. If she respected his work, perhaps he’d respect hers in return.

  Building a mill was a monumental task, one akin to a woman becoming a doctor. Perhaps she and Zeb Garrison had more in common than she thought. Would that help her cause or hurt it? Nora didn’t know, but she intended to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  “Did you just wink at me?” Pete said to Zeb.

  “No!”

  Zeb ground the heel of his hand into his eye and rubbed hard. “It’s been twitching all morning.”

  The men were standing on the cutting floor. Pete had just delivered a saw blade he’d repaired, and they’d been talking about the town hall when Zeb’s eye went bad.

  The tic was driving him crazy. He’d stretched his eye wide. He’d squeezed it shut. He’d rubbed until it hurt, but he couldn’t make the twitching stop. He’d been at the mill over an hour now. He’d greased the waterwheel, checked the gearing and inspected the logs delivered yesterday by the Thompson brothers. He’d been about to check the saws when Pete arrived with the blade. As the men attached it, Zeb’s crew, including Clint Fuller for the day, had shown up for work and gotten busy.