Kansas Courtship. Victoria Bylin

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СКАЧАТЬ but a quick run of her fingers along the woman’s rib cage revealed no such encumbrance.

      The blonde had swooned for no apparent reason…or had she? Nora looked at the man crouched next to her. His dark hair brushed the rim of his collarless shirt, a linen garment that clung to broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. Black boots, scuffed but made of fine leather, tightened on his calves as he crouched. Gone was the charming stranger. In his place was a man with a smirk, a look she associated with arrogant men…handsome men. Had the woman swooned to get his attention? It wouldn’t have surprised her.

      The blonde stirred, blinking as if she couldn’t focus until she found the man’s face.

      “Zeb?” she murmured. “Is that you?”

      Nora gasped. How many Zebs could there be in High Plains? Please, Lord. Don’t let this man be the one. Knowing she couldn’t hide from the truth, she lifted her chin. “Are you Mr. Zebulun Garrison?”

      His eyes traveled to her medical bag, and back. He frowned. “I am.”

      “I’m—”

      “You’re Dr. N. Mitchell,” he said coldly. “And you’re a liar.”

      “I am not!” She wanted to settle the matter now, but the blonde needed her attention. Nora turned to her patient. “I’m Dr. Nora Mitchell.”

      “Get away from me!” the woman declared.

      “I’m a doctor.”

      “You’re a woman,” she complained. “You can’t be a doctor.”

      “I’m fully trained, Miss—?”

      “Miss Johnson,” she said coldly. “Abigail Johnson.”

      Nora gripped the woman’s wrist, retook her pulse and detected no change. “Did you eat breakfast today?”

      “Of course.”

      Nora surmised the woman to be single. She wouldn’t ask about pregnancy directly, but it had to be considered. “Have you been ill, perhaps nauseous on occasion?”

      The blonde glared at her as she sat up. “That’s a rude question to ask. Zeb, would you help me? I want to go inside.”

      “Of course.” He sounded gentle, even sweet.

      Nora surmised they were close and wondered if they were courting. She also recalled the way he’d looked at her. Zebulun Garrison was either weak willed or a womanizer. Either way, she didn’t like him.

      As he stood, so did she. Their gazes slammed together at an angle, reminding her of his height. In addition to wide shoulders, he had a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Her professional eye told her his nose had never been broken. Her female eyes noticed he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He was not middle-aged, portly or balding.

      His frank gaze reminded her of her own lackluster appearance, and she became acutely aware of what he was seeing…a woman with red hair in a dirty coat. She didn’t appreciate his critical stare, especially after the way his eyes had initially sparked with male interest. As dusty as a prairie dog, she stared back to remind him of his manners.

      His gaze narrowed with disgust. As he lowered his chin to speak, Abigail waved for attention. “Zeb?” she murmured.

      Looking irked, he gripped the blonde’s gloved fingers and lifted her, steadying her as she swayed. Abigail Johnson didn’t fool Nora for a minute. The woman had faked a swoon to gain Mr. Garrison’s attention. Judging by his demeanor, he knew this as well.

      After steadying the blonde, he turned back to Nora. His lips thinned to a line. “The interview’s over, Miss Mitchell. You’ll be leaving with the Crandalls.”

      “No, sir,” she answered. “I will not be leaving. You promised me an interview. I expect a chance to prove myself.”

      “You just did, Dr. N. Mitchell.”

      “I never said I was male. You assumed—”

      “You didn’t say you weren’t.”

      “When you sign a letter, do you tell people you’re a man?”

      “Of course not.”

      Nora fought to stay calm. “Do you sign your letters, ‘Zebulun Garrison, Member of the Human Race, Male’?”

      His stare could have boiled water.

      The blonde tugged on his sleeve. “Zeb, please! I want to go inside.”

      “Wait here,” he snapped at Nora.

      She hadn’t taken orders since medical college, not even from her father. She wanted the respect of her title, but she did not want a public scene when they discussed the terms of her employment. Neither did she want to have that talk wearing the duster, with dirt on her face.

      “I’ll be at the boardinghouse as we arranged,” she said to him. “I’ll expect you this afternoon. Is two o’clock acceptable?”

      He stared at her for five long seconds. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

      “I have as much nerve as you.”

      His mouth curved into a bitter smile. “I doubt that, Miss Mitchell. I’ll be at the boardinghouse at one o’clock. I have work to do.”

      He’d changed the time to make a point. She’d have to hurry to get ready, but she’d manage. “Fine,” she said.

      “Fine,” he replied.

      The blonde gave Nora a nasty look, then gripped Mr. Garrison’s arm and steered him into the mercantile. As they passed through the door, Mr. Crandall came out. “How ya doing, missy?”

      “Just fine,” she answered. “I thought I’d walk to the boardinghouse. Would you deliver my trunk when you’re done here?”

      “Sure thing, girl.” He held out his big hand. “It’s been a pleasure hauling ya.”

      Nora clasped it in both of hers. “The pleasure was mine. And remember, if you or the missus need a doctor, I’m here.”

      His gray eyes turned serious. “I will, miss. But I’m worried about ya. Mr. Garrison’s a mite bent out of shape. If you need a ride back to Saint Joseph, just holler. The wife and I leave in the morning.”

      “I’ll be fine.”

      “I hope so.” He shook his head. “That man doesn’t think much of females. Might be different if he had himself a wife like mine.”

      Nora had enjoyed the older couple, bickering and all. “You and Mrs. Crandall were very kind to me.”

      He tipped his hat. “Good day, miss. I’ll see to that trunk of yours.”

      As he turned to leave, Nora realized she needed directions. She called back to Mr. Crandall. “Would you point me to the boardinghouse?”

      “Go СКАЧАТЬ