Rebellious Bride (30 page)

Holly hesitated only a moment. “He’s wonderful. He’s considerate.” Holly paused, shook her head, then smiled. “I can’t get enough of him.”

“He’s that good, is he?” Lil teased.

Holly’s eyes widened with delight. “He’s that good,” she confirmed.

Lil gave Holly a generous hug, then stepped back. “I’m so happy you and my father love each other.”

Holly looked surprised. “Did your father tell you he loved me?”

Lil grabbed a towel from the stack on the table and began folding. “He didn’t have to. It’s obvious. The way his eyes follow you so eagerly, his concern for you, his wanting to spend so much time with you—it all adds up,” Lil said matter-of-factly. Then, as if the thought had just struck her, she asked, “He has told you he loves you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. Yes, of course he has,” Holly assured her. “You’re perceptive of people’s emotions.”

“People are usually easy to read.” Lil gave her response some thought. Not all people. Her husband remained an enigma to her, and it bothered the devil out of her. Her own mixed emotions disturbed her, too. Or was it the fact that her marriage had taken on a deeper meaning to her?

“You look troubled, Lil, and I get the feeling you’re confused about more than you’re admitting to.”

Lil threw the half-folded towel down on the examination table. “Everything confuses me lately. I can’t understand my penchant for wanting to be near Rolfe. I can’t understand why I feel safer and more content when he’s near. I can’t understand why I can’t sleep unless he’s beside me in bed. I can’t... Good Lord, who am I fooling? I love him, don’t I?” Lil turned to Holly for verification of her crazy statement.

“Sounds as if you have all the symptoms,” Holly said. “But I assure you that the cure is mighty pleasant.”

“What’s the cure?” Lil asked, wondering how there could be a remedy for love.

Holly winked at her. “The cure is to be loved in return.”

Lil walked over to the chair tucked beneath the roll-top desk and pulled it out. She sat down, sighed, and rubbed her belly in slow circles.

“You doubt he would return your love?” Holly asked, feeling her friend’s despondency.

“My problem is that I don’t know,” Lil admitted.

“Proper decorum is important to him. According to him, a husband tends to his wife in all matters whether he loves her or not. You fulfill your obligations. Do as you must.” Lil shook her head in disgust. “Damn, I can’t even judge whether I married a stuffy English lord or an English lord turned skilled cowboy.”

“Word is that he’s mighty good with a gun. I haven’t seen him myself, but I’ve heard stories.”

“But are they fanciful stories the townsfolk have conjured up to entertain, or are they the truth? Who the heck is my husband? And if this confused emotion is love, can he return it in kind? The whole situation is one big mess.”

Holly hurried over to her, kneeling beside her. “Don’t look for all the answers at once. Take one day at a time. You’ll be surprised at what time and patience can uncover.”

Billy interrupted them with his usual whirlwind entrance, popping the peppermint stick out of his mouth to speak. “Holly, you’re needed at the boardinghouse. Lil, Jonathan sent me to see if you were all right. You sure look all right to me.”

“Tell Jonathan I’m fine, not to hurry.”

Billy took off in a flash.

“Are you certain you’ll be all right by yourself?” Holly asked, concerned about leaving Lil with the remainder of the work.

“I’ll be fine. There are enough chores here to keep me busy until Rolfe returns for me.”

“There’s too much work here for you,” Holly scolded.

“Without you here every day, Doc lets things go, leaving you a ton of work when you do come in. And that doesn’t even count the patients who stop by your house to see you.

I’ll be back as soon as I can to help you finish up.”

“Take your time,” Lil said and shooed Holly out of the office.

Holly peeked back around the doorway. “I’ll bring us back some tea and blueberry pie.”

“In that case hurry back,” Lil said with a laugh.

With medicine jars to restock, paperwork to organize, and at least a dozen other chores to see to, Lil found her mind too occupied to give rise to her concerns. She busied around the office mentally checking off each chore as she completed it.

The floor was next on her list. Needing the bucket and mop, she took herself off to the shed out back. The small wooden shed housed a host of items Lil had deemed unfit to remain in Doc’s office. She opened the door wide, allowing the afternoon sun to spill a generous amount of light into the windowless space. The bucket and mop sat off to the right, and when she reached for them, Lil caught sight of a dusty green vase sitting on a three-legged stool against the back wall.

Thinking of how colorful a bunch of fresh-scented wildflowers would look in it, she reached for it. Darkness engulfed the shed just as she grabbed for the vase. Realizing that she should have propped the door open, Lil turned, stumbling into several objects before she reached it.

She gave the door a gentle shove with her hand and met with solid resistance. Puzzled by the door’s refusal to budge, she gave it a hearty shove. Nothing. The door remained immovable.

Lil, not one to panic, tried the door several more times. It stubbornly refused to move. The only reasonable explanation she could come up with was that the latch had accidentally slammed shut when the door closed.

With no alternative she stood where she was and called out, hoping someone would hear her. After several minutes passed without anyone coming to her rescue, she grew tired of yelling for help. She carefully made her way in the darkness to where she recalled seeing a small wooden barrel. She located it with only a minimum of difficulty and removed the few objects from the top of it, then sat down to wait. Someone was bound to return soon.

Lil tapped her foot impatiently on the dirt floor. A fine film of perspiration broke out across her forehead from the warmth of the confined space, and she felt the stale air thicken. She fanned her damp face with her hand, though it did little good.

Someone would come soon, she reminded herself. At least it was late spring. If it had been late summer, the shed would be an inferno by now, and she would be drenched in sweat and most uncomfortable. Not that she wasn’t uncomfortable at the moment but her predicament was, at present, bearable.

Her nose wrinkled against a sudden odor she couldn’t quite detect. It hadn’t been there a moment ago. She sniffed the air.
Smoke.
She smelled smoke.

Lil rose and hurried to the door, stumbling only once when she caught her foot on the three-legged stool and sent the green vase crashing to the dirt floor. She paid no mind to the shattering glass. What concerned her now was the suffocating stench of smoke that was rapidly filling the shed.

She pounded relentlessly on the door and shouted, her eyes and throat stinging from the thick smoke. She rammed her shoulder against the door. Her efforts did little good. The door remained solidly locked.

She pounded again, her fists like hammers slamming repeatedly against her wooden prison. She tried to scream, but smoke filled her lungs, sucking the breath from her.

Lil’s hands fell to her sides in defeat, and her forehead rested against the door. She gagged and choked and barely released her last desperate cry for help. “
Rolfe!”

Billy burst into the jailhouse. “Fire! The doc’s place is on fire!”

Rolfe raced out the door and ran full speed across the street with Sam and Billy close on his heels. His heart pounded, his blood rushed, and his breath caught in his throat when he spotted the thick cloud of gray smoke rising to the heavens from behind Doc’s office.

He ran around the side of the office and vaulted the low wooden fence. He came up short for a brief moment when he witnessed two men struggling to remove a heavy log braced firmly against the shed door. The fire itself was confined to a blazing bush adjacent to the shed.

Rolfe rushed over, shoved the two men out of his way, and reached for the thick log. Fear raced through him, energizing every muscle in his body so that the log seemed to weigh no more than a sapling. He tossed it effortlessly aside and yanked open the door.

Lil spilled into his arms.

She coughed and sputtered and rasped out his name, “Rolfe.”

With his wife cradled safely in his arms, Rolfe backed away from the flaming heat and the dense smoke and sat down on the ground.

Sam, Holly, and Billy hurried over to them, crowding around the couple.

“Give her room to breathe,” Doc ordered, rushing toward them and pushing them aside to get to Lil. He knelt beside her, his kind eyes filled with concern as they darted to Rolfe before focusing on Lil.

Rolfe refused to relinquish his protective hold on her, as though by keeping her locked in his arms he could guarantee her safety.

“For God’s sake let her breathe,” Doc snapped. “She needs to get fresh air into her lungs. Open the buttons at her throat.”

Rolfe realized his foolish actions and immediately followed Doc’s advice. He held Lillian with one arm while his other hand, though trembling, quickly freed three buttons, exposing her throat and the top portion of her chest.

Lil continued to cough and take great gulps, feeding hungrily on the fresh air. Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat. Her hair hung damp and limp about her face, having fallen loose from the pale yellow ribbon that had held it in place.

“Rolfe,” Lil said again and ended his name on a mild cough.

“I’m here, Lillian,” he said and squeezed her gently to him.

Doc’s hands were on Lil’s rounded stomach, pressing and feeling for the baby. “Is the child moving or still?” He asked the question with too much worry, to Rolfe’s way of thinking.

Lil released a labored breath before she answered. “He was kicking the devil out of me just before I collapsed.”

Rolfe shot Doc a look of distress.

Doc removed his hand and asked, “What about since?”

Rolfe ran his hand over the swell of Lillian’s belly, willing their child to be safe from harm. As if in answer to his father’s request, the baby gave a hard kick.

Lil almost cried from relief, and Rolfe laughed the tense moment away. “He’s expressing his displeasure.”

“I don’t mind in the least,” Lil said, looking up into her husband’s strange blue eyes. Eyes she had feared she would never look into again. “He can kick me as often as he pleases.”

Rolfe caressed her stomach, the baby continuing to let both parents know he was fine and dandy, and mighty strong for the ordeal he had just suffered.

Lil raised her hand to touch Rolfe’s face, her fingers slowly moving over his lips. “I knew you would rescue me.”

“My second heroic act,” he joked, kissing the tips of her fingers. “And I still haven’t been rewarded for my first.”

Lil smiled broadly and sent him a suggestive wink. “You will by this evening.”

A wave of relief surged through Rolfe. His Lillian, bold and sassy, had returned. “I intend to hold you to that, madam.”

Her words were a bare whisper and for his ears alone. “I intend to do more than hold.”

Rolfe had no time to respond. Doc ordered Lil up and into his office so that he could check her over. Rolfe was about to move them both off the ground when Sam reached down to his daughter.

The worry on Sam’s face was easily readable, and Rolfe empathized with him. He didn’t protest as Sam helped Lillian up and slipped his arm around her, hugging her close to his side as he walked with her into Doc’s office.

“Sam is concerned,” Holly said when Rolfe stood up, brushing the dirt and dust off his trousers.

“There’s no need to explain his actions. I understand perfectly. I only hope I make as good a father as Sam.”

Sam’s shout for Holly from the open doorway drew their attention. “Doc needs you to help him.”

Rolfe walked briskly along with Holly toward Sam, worried that something had gone amiss with Lillian.

Sam shook his head at Rolfe as Holly walked past him. “Lillian’s all right?”

“She’s fit as a fiddle. She’s arguing with Doc, and he’s insisting that she lie down on the examining table.”

“She must be well if she’s objecting to another’s direction.”

Sam’s expression darkened, his brows drawing together. He pointed to the shed. “I don’t like the look of this.”

Both men walked over to the shed. The blazing bush was no more than skeletal branches. The side of the shed was scarred and blackened.

Sam examined the large log that had been braced against the door. He kicked it with his booted foot. “Lil thinks the latch fell closed and accidentally locked her in.”

“There’s that word ‘accident’ again,” Rolfe said and shook his head. His eyes took on an angry sheen when he raised them to look at Sam. “Someone purposely locked Lillian in that shed and started that blaze.”

Sam kicked the offending log one more time. “Damn right, and I’m going to find out who did it.” He stared Rolfe right in the eye as he ordered, “And you’re not going to leave my daughter’s side until we find out what’s going on.”

Rolfe took no offense at Sam’s remark. He intended to do exactly as Sam had directed. He would shadow Lillian constantly during the days to come.

Sam clarified his remark. “I need to know that someone capable of protecting Lil is with her. I trust Holly, but she couldn’t prevent anyone from hurting Lil, and I just don’t know if Jonathan’s capable.”

“Allow me to alleviate your fears. Lillian, from this moment on, will remain in my presence. And Jonathan is more than capable of keeping Lillian from harm.”

Sam sighed with relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Rolfe! Sam!” Holly called excitedly from the doorway.

“Several wagons are headed into Little. It looks as though your brother has arrived, Rolfe.”

Rolfe entered Doc’s office to see Lillian attempting to button her blouse and make herself look presentable.

“Lil, I told you to stay put on that table until I had a chance to examine you,” Doc scolded, shaking his finger in her face.