With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (4 page)

“All right.” Jason knew his acceptance sounded grudging, and it was. “Just keep me away from your guest of honor.”

Laughter was Richard’s only response.

“I can’t believe it, Gwen.” Elizabeth unpinned her hat and placed it on the bureau in the room that had once been her sister’s. The apartment over Charlotte’s former dress shop was modestly sized, but it boasted two bedrooms as well as a central space that served as kitchen, dining room, and parlor. Gwen and her daughter shared the bedroom overlooking Ferguson Street, while Elizabeth’s room offered a view of the small backyard, a view that was blessedly free of Mr. Arrogant Nordling. For the first time, she admitted that Charlotte might have been right when she claimed it was better not to live over her office. At least here there were no reminders of her unpleasant neighbor.

“The man was insufferably rude,” Elizabeth continued. “As bad as the men in my classes.” Though her hands were still shaking with anger, she forced herself to take care as she removed her gloves. They had been a Christmas gift from Charlotte, and Elizabeth didn’t want to damage them. “I could almost understand my classmates,” she admitted. “They were angry that I’d taken a place that could have gone to one of their friends. But there was no reason for Mr. Nordling to behave the way he did.” She’d obviously been mistaken in believing that what she had seen in his eyes was pain. The man was simply ornery, obstinate, and unable to admit that women were capable of far more than his narrow-minded prejudice allowed.

When Elizabeth finished recounting the litany of Jason
Nordling’s rudeness, Gwen’s lips tightened, giving Elizabeth the impression that she was trying to bite back her words. Finally, she said, “At least he showed you his true colors at the beginning. Not all men do.”

The words echoed through Elizabeth’s brain like a clanging bell. Once again she’d spoken without considering the consequences. She should have remembered the story Charlotte had told of how Gwen had believed she’d found true love, only to discover that the man she thought loved her and Rose hid a dark side.

Knowing that Gwen preferred no mention of her past, Elizabeth fixed an ironic smile on her face and attempted to lighten the discussion. “How sad that that’s the only good thing we can say about Mr. Nordling.” As she’d hoped, Gwen smiled. The moment had passed.

When they returned to the kitchen for Gwen to put the final touches on dinner, the heavyset woman’s face lit with another smile. No one would call Gwen beautiful, but when she smiled, her light blue eyes sparkled and her cheeks grew rosy, giving her face much-needed color. For a moment, she looked almost pretty, despite her ordinary features and the extra pounds that even Charlotte’s expert tailoring could not completely hide.

“I have good news,” Gwen said, holding out a creamy envelope. “Miriam and Richard are planning a party in your honor next week.” Her smile turned into a grin as she lifted the lid from a pot and tasted the simmering stew. “I already opened my invitation. That’s how I know.”

There hadn’t been many parties in Elizabeth’s life. Her father had put them and dancing in the same category, calling them frivolous wastes of time. As a result, neither Elizabeth
nor her older sisters had learned to dance until after Papa’s death. Both Charlotte and Abigail’s letters had mentioned attending several parties, but Elizabeth had been too busy studying to think about social gatherings. The truth was, she was more comfortable dealing with sick and injured people than with men and women whose conversation revolved around more mundane subjects. Look at how poorly her time with Jason Nordling had turned out.

“I didn’t come to Cheyenne to spend my time at parties,” she told Gwen. “I ought to be treating patients.” To Elizabeth’s chagrin, her voice sounded as firm as Papa’s had when he’d announced that his daughters should concentrate on more serious things than which ribbons matched their gowns. Though she’d loved her father, there had been times when she had wished he’d been a bit more flexible. Now it seemed she was becoming just as rigid. She couldn’t let that happen, for if she did, she might lose patients the way Papa had lost congregations.

Gwen reached for a loaf of bread. “Miriam agrees with you. That’s why she’s having the party at her parents’ house and why she invited all her friends and her parents’ associates. She wants them to meet you so that when they do need a doctor, they’ll think of you.”

Elizabeth turned as the sound of laughter reached her ears. Though Rose had been playing quietly in the parlor, something had caught her fancy, with the result that a giggle had turned into a full-fledged laugh. Like her mother, Rose had a sunny disposition. So did Miriam Eberhardt. Though she’d only met her twice, Elizabeth understood why she’d become one of Charlotte’s closest friends. Now that friendship was being extended to Elizabeth.

“I hadn’t considered that.” Elizabeth smiled as she added, “I suppose it’s like the ads I placed in Miriam’s father’s paper—advertising. Charlotte told me that Miriam was responsible for most of her clientele, that once she bought a few dresses from her, her friends wanted similar gowns.” Miriam had even defied her mother’s edict to buy only Parisian fashions, insisting that Charlotte’s were more beautiful.

Gwen looked up from the bread she was slicing. “The Taggerts are influential, and Miriam wields her own power, especially with the younger women. The party will be good for you.”

“So long as I don’t have to speak to Jason Nordling.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Gwen might have said. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Gwen’s cheeks flushed as she called out, “Come in, Harrison. Dinner’s almost ready.”

The man who lived next door entered the small apartment, hanging his hat on the rack with the familiarity of someone who’d done it dozens of times before. He had. When Charlotte and Barrett had decided to go East for the summer and perhaps longer, Barrett’s brother had volunteered to come to Cheyenne to oversee the expansion of Barrett’s new dry goods store, and Gwen—generous Gwen—had insisted on providing meals for Harrison. Now that Elizabeth was here to serve as a chaperone, she had invited him to eat with her and Rose and Elizabeth. It was, she said, the least she could do, since Barrett was letting her live here rent-free.

“How was your first day of practice?” Harrison asked as he moved further into the apartment, settling into one of the chairs that flanked the dining table. Though he addressed the question to Elizabeth, she noticed that his eyes returned to Gwen, and he appeared to be studying her, as if memorizing
each feature, while Gwen seemed to be looking in every direction other than Harrison’s. How odd. Though it was true that Harrison was not a man who would warrant a second glance from a woman who cared only about physical beauty, Elizabeth did not believe Gwen judged people based on superficial appearances. Harrison’s dark brown hair and blue eyes could have been striking, but they were overshadowed by the solemn expression that seemed habitual. Though she did not know the reason, other than the times when his eyes were fixed on Gwen, Harrison Landry did not appear to be a happy man.

Elizabeth was not a happy woman, at least not today. “My first day was a great success,” she said, not bothering to mask her sarcasm, “unless I wanted patients. I had not a single one.”

His eyes still on Gwen, Harrison shrugged. “You need to be patient.”

“That’s what Gwen said. The problem is, I’m not a patient person. Today seemed endless. I never had a minute to spare when I was in school, so it felt strange to have so much empty time.” Once Jason Nordling appeared, boredom hadn’t seemed so bad.

Gwen turned from the stove to grin at Harrison. “I told Elizabeth to enjoy being idle. Before she knows it, she’ll be so busy that she’ll wish for a free moment. I predict that by the time autumn returns, I’ll rarely see her because she’ll have so many patients.”

It was an encouraging thought, except for the fact that autumn was more than three months away.

Harrison nodded, his eyes intent as he watched Gwen ladle the stew into a serving dish. “You should listen to Gwen. She’s a wise woman.”

Her face once again flushed, Gwen called to her daughter. “It’s time to wash your hands, Rose.”

The little girl who’d just turned four was a small version of her mother, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and the prettiest of smiles. Rose managed to keep her expression solemn while Gwen offered a blessing for the food, but when the stew and bread were served, she grinned and began to shovel spoonfuls of the hearty concoction into her mouth. “Good,” she murmured between bites.

“Delicious as always.” Elizabeth seconded the child’s opinion. The speed with which Harrison emptied his bowl left no doubt that he was enjoying the food. It was only when he’d accepted a second helping that he laid down his spoon, his expression once more solemn.

“Have you ladies heard the news about the Bennett trial?” he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I met Mr. Nordling this afternoon, and he didn’t look happy. I assume that means the jury found Bennett guilty.”

“The man is as guilty as June days are long.” Harrison clenched his fist and pounded it on the table, startling Rose. “Unfortunately, the jury didn’t know that.”

Elizabeth wasn’t surprised by Harrison’s first comment. He’d been adamant in his belief that Adam Bennett had killed his wife, and she’d suspected that only a guilty verdict would satisfy him. It appeared, though, that the jury had not shared Harrison’s opinion. That would explain Harrison’s anger; it did not explain Jason Nordling’s mood. The man should have been celebrating his victory.

Elizabeth looked up from the bread she was buttering,
fixing her eyes on Harrison. “That’s why we have juries, isn’t it? So they can weigh the evidence and make a decision.”

A glare accompanied his response. “The jury was bamboozled. Jason Nordling gave Bennett a brilliant defense. He was so good that everyone on the jury believed him. It was only after the verdict was delivered that Bennett admitted he’d done it. Admitted?” Harrison’s voice rose to little less than a shout. “He boasted. That miserable, murdering man boasted about what he’d done.”

As Harrison shouted the final words, Rose began to cry.

“It’s all right, sweetie.” Gwen wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “Mr. Landry’s not angry at you.”

Her cheeks tearstained, Rose looked up at him. “You’re not?”

“No, indeed.” Though his voice was still harsh, Harrison appeared to be trying to modulate it. “The problem is, I don’t know who riles me more—the murderer or his attorney.”

Elizabeth had never met Adam Bennett, so she had no opinion of him, but she found herself disturbed by the knowledge that Jason Nordling had defended a confessed murderer. Though his arrogance and blatant bias had annoyed her, she had thought him a basically honorable man. It was true that everyone deserved a defense. Papa had been adamant about that, and yet . . . The question was, at what point had Mr. Nordling learned of his client’s guilt?

An hour later, Harrison had returned to his apartment, and Elizabeth was helping Gwen wash dishes while Rose played with her doll.

“I’m afraid I made a huge mistake,” Gwen said as she rinsed a bowl and handed it to Elizabeth.

Her mind still filled with the thought that an admitted
murderer was now free on the streets of Cheyenne, Elizabeth had to force herself to concentrate on what Gwen was saying. “What kind of mistake?” It seemed as if the only mistake that had been made today was in exonerating a guilty man.

“I shouldn’t have invited Harrison to take his meals with us.” Gwen swirled the dishcloth around another bowl, loosening the bits of dried-on stew. “It seemed like a good idea. I haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I’ve been worried about Rose. She needs a man’s influence in her life, and Harrison seemed like the answer to prayer, living so close and being Barrett’s brother. Now I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Harrison scares Rose. She doesn’t cry easily, but you saw her today.” Gwen glanced over her shoulder, assuring herself that Rose was no longer crying.

“Harrison seems like a kind man.” Unlike Jason Nordling.
Kind
was not a word Elizabeth associated with the attorney. He was harsh and dogmatic. Elizabeth blinked, realizing that the same words could be applied to her. She was judging Jason Nordling without knowing all the facts. He’d been upset this afternoon. That could have been because he’d just learned that his client was guilty rather than that his conscience was bothering him for defending a guilty man.

“Oh, he is kind.” For a second, Elizabeth couldn’t imagine what Gwen meant. Then she remembered that they were discussing Harrison Landry, not Jason Nordling. “Harrison is . . .” As Gwen pronounced his name, color rose to her cheeks, and she ducked her head, as if trying to keep Elizabeth from seeing her blush. “It’s just . . .”

Placing the bowl she’d just dried on the cupboard shelf, Elizabeth darted a glance at Gwen. Though she’d known her
only a few weeks, Elizabeth had never before noticed Gwen’s tendency to blush. Yet tonight she’d flushed multiple times. Thinking about it, Elizabeth realized it was always when Gwen was discussing Harrison. She was acting more like a schoolgirl than a woman of one and thirty years.