With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (27 page)

“It’s lovely,” Elizabeth said, smiling up at Jason.

“So are you.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes solemn, as if he were asking a question. Then, without a word being spoken, he lowered his lips to hers.

 18 

E
lizabeth laid her fingers on her lips. It had been two days since that magical kiss in the park. She sighed as she tried to concentrate on the newspaper in front of her. It was no use. No matter what she did, her thoughts returned to the time she’d spent with Jason. The whole day had been perfect. She’d enjoyed the picnic and her first boat ride, but nothing could compare to the sunset and what had accompanied it. Elizabeth knew that even if she wanted to, she would never regard a sunset in the same way. Forevermore sunsets would be linked to the wonder of Jason’s kiss.

Her first kiss! As a child, Elizabeth had heard her sisters discussing what it might feel like to be kissed. Charlotte and Abigail had giggled uncontrollably at the prospect, while Elizabeth had wondered if anyone would want to kiss her . . . and whether she would want to be kissed. Not once had she dreamt that a kiss could be so glorious. When Jason’s lips had touched hers, shivers of delight had spiraled down her spine. Every nerve ending had tingled with pleasure. Her toes
had curled inside her high-buttoned boots, and for a second, she could have sworn that she was floating. She wasn’t, of course, and yet even now, almost forty-eight hours later, she could not forget how good it had felt to stand in the circle of Jason’s arms, his lips pressed to hers.

That was one memory she hoped would never, ever fade. And even though it distracted her at the most awkward times, like when Harrison had asked her to pass the potatoes and she’d been so lost in reverie that he’d had to repeat his request three times, she wouldn’t have changed one second of it.

As the front doorbell tinkled, Elizabeth rose and entered the waiting room, smiling when she saw the patients who awaited her. Memories were wonderful, but patients paid the rent.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Seaman. Hello, Louis.” A quick appraisal told Elizabeth that the reason for their call was not acute.

The thin woman whose son had needed her care on their last visit managed a smile, although it seemed forced. Perhaps Elizabeth’s assessment had been faulty and one of the Seamans was more ill than she’d believed. “Call me Laura, please.”

“Certainly.”

“I’m glad to see you’re still here.”

Elizabeth knew her expression revealed her surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

A flush rose to Laura Seaman’s cheeks. “I know it’s wrong to listen to gossip, but I heard some ladies at church saying that Mr. Nordling is courting you and before we know it, you’ll be married.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not planning to marry, but even if I were, I’d still be a doctor. My patients are important to me.”

“Then Mr. Nordling isn’t courting you.” Laura appeared almost disappointed.

Elizabeth shook her head again. “We’re friends.”

As Louis started to fidget, his mother laid a cautionary hand on his head. She lowered her voice, as if whatever she was about to say was confidential. “Doc Worland is wrong.”

Elizabeth refused to ask what the other doctor had said, but she had no need, for Laura continued her story. “He said it was only a matter of time until you killed a patient and were run out of town.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she tried to control her anger. She shouldn’t have been surprised by Dr. Worland’s comments. She’d known that he considered her an enemy. But his claim that she would kill a patient set her blood to boiling. There was a huge distinction between failing to save a patient and killing one. The former happened to every doctor at one time or another, despite their best efforts.

“I have not lost any patients,” Elizabeth told Laura Seaman, “and if I do, it will not be for lack of trying to save them. But, tell me why you’re here today.”

“It’s Louis.”

Bending down to his level, Elizabeth spoke to the boy. “How is your ear?”

“Good.” He tugged on both earlobes, as if assuring himself that they were still attached.

“It’s not his ear,” Laura explained with a worried look at her son. “His throat seems to hurt. I’m worried that he might have diphtheria.”

Though the number of cases had not become an epidemic and had, in fact, subsided over the past month, Elizabeth
would not discount a mother’s instinct that something was wrong with her child.

“Let’s take a look.” She led Laura and Louis into her examining room. “You remember my table, don’t you, Louis?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s get you up there.” As she lifted the child onto the table, she couldn’t help hoping that Laura did not have to carry him often, for the boy was heavy for his age. A woman as thin as Laura should not be lifting so much weight.

“I need you to open your mouth as wide as you can,” she told Louis. The boy complied, revealing a throat that bore no sign of illness. Elizabeth saw no redness, nor was the diphtheric membrane swollen or irritated. She laid her hand on Louis’s forehead, checking for fever, but found none. “I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs,” she told him as she pulled her stethoscope from a drawer and inserted the plugs into her ears. A minute later, she turned to Laura. “I wish all my patients were as healthy as your son.”

“Are you sure?” Though Elizabeth had expected relief, she was faced with disbelief. “I know something is wrong. Louis was rubbing his throat yesterday. I was sure it was diphtheria.”

“Would you tip your head back, Louis?” Elizabeth demonstrated the position she wanted. When he did, she pointed to a small scratch on the boy’s neck. “Perhaps that’s why he was rubbing it. It may have hurt or itched, but now it’s almost healed.”

Laura flushed. “Lloyd was right. I’m being silly to worry so much. It’s just that Louis is our only child.” As Louis took the candy Elizabeth offered him and scampered into the waiting room, Laura shook her head slowly. “Oh, Doctor, I wish I could have another baby.”

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d been foremost in his mind for weeks, ever since he’d decided to begin the temporary courtship, but the kiss they’d shared had changed everything. He shouldn’t have done it. It hadn’t been part of the plan, but when they’d stood side by side watching the sunset, Elizabeth had been so beautiful, her smile so sweet, that he hadn’t been able to resist the allure of her lips. And now . . . Sunrise, sunset, and all the hours in between, he couldn’t stop thinking about Elizabeth and how soft and sweet her lips had been, how right it had felt to hold her in his arms.

This was a temporary courtship, Jason reminded himself sternly, its only purpose to protect Elizabeth. It wasn’t as if she were eager to marry. She’d made it clear that she was not. It wasn’t as if she were the kind of woman he intended to marry. She was not. And yet, there were times—more times than he could count—when he wondered whether he’d made a mistake. Not the kiss. He’d never call those moments when their lips had met a mistake. No, if there was a mistake, it was in believing that a temporary courtship was a good idea.

When he heard the office door open, Jason felt excitement course through his veins at the prospect of a visit by Elizabeth. But the heavy footsteps told him he was mistaken, and he bit back his disappointment when he realized that his visitor was Nelson Chadwick.

“Good afternoon, Nelson.” Though he was tempted to murmur the platitude that it was good to see him, Jason did not, for his normally calm client appeared anxious. Nelson’s face was pale, almost gray, and his hands were clenched.

“This is not a social call,” the owner of the lumberyard
said as Jason ushered him into his office. “I need your legal expertise.”

“That’s my specialty.” When his attempt at levity failed to rouse even a hint of a smile, Jason’s concerns deepened. This was not like Nelson. Jason waited until his client was seated before he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to divorce Tabitha.”

No preamble. No explanation. Just the bleak statement. Jason was not surprised by either the curt delivery or Nelson’s intentions. There had been numerous signs that the Chadwicks’ marriage was in trouble. While Jason didn’t know all the details, he surmised that Nelson had been blinded by Tabitha’s youth and beauty and was now paying the price. It was an unfortunate situation, for marriage, Jason’s father had insisted, was sacred, ending only with death.

Jason tried not to sigh at the realization that the reverend would not have been pleased that Jason was about to help Nelson sunder ties forged before God.

Keeping his voice as even as if he were discussing nothing more important than the color of Nelson’s shirt, Jason asked, “Is your wife aware of your plans?”

“Not yet.” Nelson twisted his hands together, his distress evident. “I want the papers drawn up before I talk to her.”

Unspoken was the fact that Nelson was dreading that particular discussion. It must be horribly painful to contemplate ending a marriage. Jason couldn’t imagine voluntarily leaving Elizabeth. He blinked at the thought that had popped into his brain, then forced his attention back to Nelson. “What are you prepared to offer her?” As Nelson spoke, Jason took notes. At least while he was writing, his mind did not wander.

When he finished, Nelson summarized, “Tabitha will have enough money to live on.”

“But she won’t be wealthy.” Jason had handled only one other divorce, that of a cattle baron from his wife, and that settlement had been considerably more generous. Nelson had never struck him as a stingy man, but perhaps the obvious pain Tabitha had inflicted had left him disinclined to offer a liberal settlement. It was Jason’s responsibility to caution him. “Since you’re the one asking for the divorce, your wife may demand more.”

Nelson appeared surprised. “Like what?”

“The house.” The Chadwick mansion was worth a considerable sum, even this year when the cattle barons’ fortunes had plummeted and several had been forced to sell their homes for less than they’d paid to build them.

Though Jason had thought Nelson might protest, he reacted as if Jason had suggested he cut out his heart and hand it to Tabitha on a platter. “Never! She can’t have the house. That’s where I plan to live with my next wife.”

“You intend to remarry?” Though he tried, Jason knew he had not succeeded in masking his surprise. He’d thought Nelson would be gun-shy after one failed marriage.

“That’s what this is all about.” Nelson leaned forward, bracing his arms on Jason’s desk. “I want a wife who values me for myself, not the money I lavish on her. I want a wife who loves me.” He looked Jason in the eye as he asked, “Is that too much to expect?”

“No.” It was no more than any man would want, no more than Jason himself wanted. “You sound as if you’ve found that woman.”

“I have.” For the first time since he’d entered the office,
Nelson’s face relaxed, and his eyes shone with happiness. “She’s not like Tabitha. She’s honest and caring.”

“Do I know her?”

Nelson chuckled as he shook his head. “Probably not, but you will, once we’re married.” He leaned back in his chair, apparently once more relaxed. “I may even ask you to be my best man.”

Jason was intrigued as much by the change in Nelson’s demeanor as by the mysterious woman’s identity. When he’d entered Jason’s office, Nelson had appeared downtrodden, but now his face had regained its normal ruddy hue, and his head was once more held high. Whoever she was, the woman appeared to have Nelson under a spell. “So, who is she?”