With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (5 page)

“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 

S
omeone 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 Richard 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 might 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.