A Prescription for Love (9 page)

He dropped the book on the table next to his chair. Grabbing his coat, he left the house and headed toward town. A walk in the brisk air would do his humming blood some good.

Once he reached the bright lights of town, he headed to The Blue Belle Saloon. Miss Lizzy kept girls upstairs, but he’d never found the idea of whores appealing. Most of the women in her employ were very young and had arrived at her door broke and needing a way to earn enough money to head somewhere else. He hated the idea of using girls who had no other options but to sell their bodies to survive. Some of them were so young they should have still been in the schoolroom. He shook his head. Where were their parents?

Friday nights drew a huge crowd in all the saloons. Shopkeepers and professional men joined farmers and ranchers for a few drinks to end the week. A steady stream of cowboys entered the bar, had a few drinks, then took the hand of a whore to head upstairs.

Michael found a place at the bar and ordered a beer. A few card games were in progress and he considered joining one. Never a big gambler, he enjoyed poker once in a while, but set a limit for what he could afford to lose. His Uncle Jesse had drilled moderation into his head. One of the many things he’d taught him, even though Michael had been sixteen before they’d even met.

He spotted an empty table in the back and picked up his beer and took a seat there. Within minutes, Steven Farley, one of several barbers in town, joined him, along with Jacob Harris, an attorney who had recently set up his practice in Guthrie.

“Not used to seeing you here, Michael,” Steven said as he set his glass of whiskey down in front of him.

Michael wiped the beer from his lips with the back of his hand. “Just feeling a little restless tonight.”

Jacob leaned in close. “I hear you have yourself a real pretty gal working at the pharmacy with you.”

Before he could answer, Steven added, “Sickly though, I understand.”

“Not sickly. She has asthma, but we’re working on getting her condition under control. She puts in a full day at work with no problem.”

“
We’re
working on it?” Steven smirked.

Michael bristled. “Well, I do know a few things about medicine, you know.”

“Calm down, friend. I didn’t mean nothing by it.” Steven took another sip of his whiskey and burped.

Jacob signaled the bartender for another beer. “Hear tell she’s got her whole family after her to leave. Where is it she’s from? Oklahoma City?”

Michael sighed. “You spend too much time listening to gossip.” The conversation made him uneasy. For some reason discussing Heidi in a saloon seemed wrong.

Jacob changed the conversation to his lack of supper, and soon he and Steven got into an argument about which restaurant served the biggest portions, leaving Michael time to dwell on his own thoughts. His gaze wandered the room, then immediately swung back to a man leaning his chair against the far wall. Clarence Manfred.

Well, well. So the fiancé has arrived to check on his betrothed.

As he watched, a young prostitute sauntered over to Clarence with more familiarity than any first meeting. She settled on his lap, rubbing her bottom over his groin. Manfred slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, his fingers disappearing under her dress. The girl giggled and opened her legs. So here sat the devoted fiancé? Fondling a whore without even the privacy of the girl’s room? Michael shook his head as anger shot through him, thinking Heidi could actually end up married to the bastard.

“Hey, Henderson, wanna sit in for Tommy?” Nick Rankin called to him from a poker table in the middle of the room.

“Sure.” Michael swallowed the rest of his beer and left the empty glass on the table as he rose. He settled into the still-warm chair from the last player’s body, and threw a coin into the pot as the man to his left began to deal.

An hour later Michael still played, up over thirteen dollars. Myron Smythe shoved his chair back and declared he was done for the night. His seat immediately filled, and Michael found himself staring into the eyes of the man who planned to marry his employee.

“Henderson.” Clarence nodded at him.

“Manfred,” Michael returned.

By the fourth hand, Clarence clearly had his mind on other things besides poker. The young whore from earlier came down the stairs with a cowboy following, tucking his shirt into worn, dusty jeans. She drifted over to Clarence and sat on his lap again. Michael cringed at the thought of her leaving one man, and then settling on the lap of another. But that characterized her life, didn’t it?

Clarence accepted another glass of whiskey from a passing waitress and took a gulp. His bloodshot eyes attested to how many drinks he’d already consumed. He picked up his cards and stared at them.

“Your bid, Manfred.” The dealer gestured with his chin in Clarence’s direction.

The semi-drunk Clarence yanked at the top of the whore’s dress, dragging the red satin fabric to her waist, exposing her to the room. He stuck his head between her naked breasts. “I need a lick for luck.” He nuzzled the young flesh and ran his tongue over one of her nipples. The girl giggled, but glanced around, decidedly uncomfortable with Clarence’s outrageous behavior.

“Knock it off, Manfred,” Michael snarled.

“What?” Clarence slurred. “She’s a whore.”

The girl attempted to stand, but Clarence’s arm held firm around her waist.

Michael got to his feet, his hands fisted on the table. “Let her go.”

“Mind your own business, Henderson.” His face flushed as red as his eyes.

Michael moved around the table and tugged the girl from Clarence’s grip. He righted her dress, then set her aside. Tears ran down her young face, the kohl on her eyes making black tracks on her cheeks. Then he reached down and yanked Clarence to his feet by his shirt front. “Go back to your hotel and sleep it off.”

Clarence jerked away from Michael’s grip, stumbling against his chair. “Who the hell do you think you are, Henderson? You think because you spend all day with my fiancée, you’re her savior or something? Or do ya think you’re every woman’s savior? Even the whores?”

“I’m telling you for the last time, Manfred. Go on back to your hotel room and sleep it off.”

“Why? So you can meet up with my fiancée and fuck her?”

With a growl, Michael swung and caught Clarence in the eye. The man went down like a lump of clay, but rolled and came back up again, swinging. He hit Michael in the mouth, but crumpled when Michael punched him in his soft stomach and finished with an uppercut to his chin.

Breathing heavily, Michael picked Clarence up under his arms and dragged him to the door, where he deposited him outside, leaning against the brick wall. Straightening his clothes, he returned to the silent room and scooped up his winnings from the table. “Gentlemen, I’m finished for the night.”

He retrieved a handkerchief from his back pocket and pressed the linen against his split lip. Glancing around the room, he spotted the young whore wiping her face with her hands, still crying. He strode in her direction. “Here.” He handed her the money he’d just took from the poker table. “Buy yourself a train ticket and get the hell away from here. Find something different to do in the next town. Better yet, go somewhere no one knows you and snag yourself a husband.”

The music from the tinny piano started back up as he strode through the door. Manfred still rested against the building. Michael grinned, and then winced in pain at the movement.

The walk home in the cold air cleared his head, but the anger stayed with him. Clarence Manfred showed all the signs of a bully and any woman who married him would have one miserable life.

His jaw tightened. If he had anything to say about it, that woman would not be Miss Heidi Lester.

Chapter 8

Dressed in only her drawers and chemise, Heidi frowned at the array of colorful clothing strewn around her room. She’d tried on every single dress she’d brought with her. Nothing seemed right for her visit to Senator Cochran’s house. One dress appeared too old-fashioned, another one too dull in color, most of the rest, too childish. She wore one of her two everyday dresses under her apron to work each day, but she wanted something special for the visit to Michael’s family.

For the tenth time she considered sending a note to him pleading a headache and unable to attend. Then she chastised herself for being such a coward. Her plan to stay the month and prove to everyone she could take care of herself would never work if she didn’t face her fears. She could do this.

Finally she chose a dark blue velvet dress with a high-necked beige lace inset in the bodice and a matching embroidered bolero jacket. Her outfit may have been a little too fancy for a family birthday celebration, but nothing else suited. Now with money of her own she really needed to purchase more clothing appropriate for a working woman. A good portion of her wardrobe resembled a young girl’s instead of an adult.

Next she tackled her hair, which did not want to cooperate. No matter how many pins she stuck into her bun, the silky strands slipped out. Why didn’t she have problems with keeping her hair up any other day? Frustrated, she simply braided the mess of curls and pinned them to her head, but ringlets escaped and settled on her forehead and alongside her ears.

Three times she dropped her earrings, until she forced herself to inhale deeply and calm down. She would be visiting Michael’s family. If they were anything like him, all would be fine.

The front doorknocker sounded and she almost lost her breakfast. She tugged on the edges of the jacket and smoothed her hair back. With shaky hands, she drew on her leather gloves and picked up her purse. One more glance in the mirror convinced her she looked terrified. She practiced a smile, pinched her cheeks, placed her palms on her stomach and, taking a deep breath, left the room.

Michael leaned one shoulder against the wall in the entrance hall speaking with Mrs. Wilson. Before she even reached the bottom step, the scent of Michael—soap, leather, and him—drifted to her nostrils. He straightened, a smile on his lips.

Her heart dropped to her toes. “What happened to you?” His handsome face bore a black and blue mark on his jaw and a cut on his lip.

He waved his hand. “Nothing. A little accident. Where is your coat?”

A little accident? Had Michael been in a fight? He obviously did not want to discuss it and, truth be known, she had no right to demand an explanation. Maybe her imagination, but there seemed to be approval in his eyes as he regarded her. Her stomach fluttered again, but not from fright.

Slow down, Heidi, Michael is your employer. He is bringing you because he wants you to meet his sister. Nothing else.

“My, don’t you look nice,” Mrs. Wilson enthused as she patted her arm. “Mr. Henderson told me all about the birthday celebration today. I’m sure you’ll have a nice time. He has a wonderful family.”

Heidi licked her dry lips as she removed her coat from the hook by the door. Michael took it from her, then helped her into the garment. “Do you have your medicine with you?”

She patted her purse. “Right here.”

“Good. It’s important you always carry it.” He took the scarf from her hands and wrapped the warmth around her lower face. “It’s chilly today.”

They said their goodbyes to Mrs. Wilson and headed to the buggy.

Heidi shifted on her seat in the buggy. “Is it far to Senator Cochran’s house?”

“No. Only a few miles outside of town. When Jesse first had their house built, it stood much farther out, but over the years Guthrie has spread quite a bit.”

Michael studied her hands twisting in her lap and grinned. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

Her wide-eyed look almost brought him to his knees. She seemed so fragile and vulnerable. Once again the thought of this delicate woman at the hands of Clarence Manfred curled his stomach.

It’s none of your business.

He blew out a breath. Maybe he intended to quell his growing feelings, but he could help Heidi become strong enough to break her engagement. There would be any number of men more than willing to marry her and provide her with the life she deserved. Now, if he could control the sense of loss that the thought triggered, his world would once again be set to right.

Lonely.

The sun shining on her golden red curls transformed her hair to flames. Her huge blue eyes took in everything as they rode through town, and then the outskirts. This section held the more established homes, populated with the wealthier residents of Guthrie. Home after home slid by, with tall white columns and deep, covered porches wrapping around the front and sides of the residences.

In a matter of minutes Michael pointed out the Cochran’s home. Similar to the other houses on the street, a covered drive on one side provided shelter for loading and unloading passengers from buggies. Classical columns and a spindle balustrade decorated the porch.

Michael stopped the buggy and hopped down to help Heidi. The side door immediately burst open and Ellie stepped out and flung herself into his arms.

“Whoa, girl, you almost knocked me off my feet.” He hugged her close, still amazed that chubby, freckle-faced little Ellie, had grown into such a lovely woman.

“I haven’t seen you in so long.” She leaned back and studied his face. “What in heaven’s name happened to you?”

For the second time he dismissed voiced concerns.

After a moment of shaking her head, she said, “You missed the last two family suppers, Michael Henderson.”

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth became a perfect circle as she noticed Heidi standing a little behind him.

“Who’s this?”

Michael drew Heidi forward. “Miss Heidi Lester, my new employee.”

Ellie continued to stare at the two of them and then her lips eased into a sly smile. “Indeed? Your employee, Michael?”

He felt his face flush and wished anyone but Ellie had been the first to greet them. Not known for her tact, he didn’t want his sister to embarrass Heidi.

“Yes. My employee.” He took both women’s arms and headed toward the door.