Chapter Four

A week after her arrival, Olivia still wasn't quite sure what to make of Cottonwood Falls or her place in it. The future she'd imagined since receiving Nate Forester's first letter hadn't come to fruition. It certainly wasn't Boston, but it wasn't a desolate dot on a map in the middle of nowhere that she'd heard so much about back East.

And the people were kind, if a little odd.

Through Sheriff Wright's connections, she had a room at the boarding house. And by the look of the snow that covered every roof, hitching post, and walkway, she gave thanks to him and the Lord for the roof over her head for the next few months.

In exchange for her room, she prepared breakfast for the boarders, dusted the sitting room daily, and changed the linens after a boarder left. Her afternoons were free, leaving her to wander the streets of the town.

Like Noah's Ark, Cottonwood Falls seemed to have two of everything. Two hotels, two bakeries, two newspapers, two blacksmiths, two livery stables, and two cafes. There were also several attorneys and a land agent. Surprisingly, there was only one saloon and one mercantile. Since she had no income to speak of, her spending was non-existent. Most nights her supper consisted of leftovers from breakfast and a cup of black tea laced with milk and sugar, a surprising gift from Aggie.

Despite the chilly air and icicles hanging from the eaves, Olivia found herself wandering through town. From the opposite side of the street, an out-of-tune piano in the saloon churned out an unsavory tune. A chill pirouetted up her spine. If it hadn't been for Sheriff Wright's dogged pursuit of Boone Henry she might well have ended up in a far different kind of house than Aggie Clegg's.

That worrisome thought continued to plague her as she stepped onto the boardwalk. Despite times of uncertainty, she'd always been comforted by the belief that the Lord had her in the palm of His hand. Surely, He wouldn't let go of her now. Offering up a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the kindness of Sheriff Wright and Miss Aggie, she turned in the direction of the mercantile and ran into a wall of muscle and bone.

Unable to control her gasp of surprise, her arms flailed and her feet went out from under her. Fortunately, two strong hands caught her at the waist to prevent her from falling off the boardwalk.

"Never had a woman fall into my arms this early in the day, Miss Talbot. Better watch your step."

Words of rebuke died on her lips when she found herself staring into the sheriff's handsome face. Her heart lurched seeing the faint glint of humor in his eyes. Not that she had many opportunities, but in the whole of her life, she couldn't recall being this attracted to a man. "Goodness, Sheriff Wright, I apologize for barging into you. I really must get my head out of the clouds."

"No harm done. How are you faring in our little community?"

"Quite well, I believe. It's not Boston, but it has a certain charm."

He removed his hat and ran a hand through his wavy honey-brown hair. "Are you planning on staying put for a while or are you saving up to move on come spring?"

Still uncertain about her destiny and the Lord's plan for her, she couldn't help but smile. She didn't view it as a mistake. With all she'd lost, along with the paltry wages she earned for the long hours of designing and sewing dresses, she couldn't imagine going back to Boston. "I won't be returning to Boston if that's what you're asking, and Aggie's made it clear my work at the boardinghouse is payment for room and meals. So, I guess that means I'll need to find a way to remain here."

The sheriff leaned in closer, his breath ruffling the tendrils at her temple. "I don't know what they pay but the shopkeepers are always looking for good help. There's The Kansas Press —our twice-a-month newspaper—Hennigan's Mercantile, the tailor…why, we even have a bathhouse and barber shop."

A blush colored Olivia's cheeks. "I hardly think patrons will feel comfortable with a woman tending to them in a bathhouse. But you're right. If I'm planning on staying in Cottonwood Falls, I best start looking for employment."

He tipped his hat and grinned. "I'll leave you to it…but only on the condition you call me Sam."

Olivia smiled and put out her hand. "Seeing as you're the first friend I've made in town, I'd be pleased, Sam."

Sam went on his way and Olivia suddenly saw Cottonwood Falls not as a break in her journey before going somewhere else but as her future. She studied the variety of shops and businesses along both sides of the road. Although the town wasn't as big as some of the others she passed while on the train it was bound to grow, and she wanted to be part of it.

Instead of entering the mercantile to admire bolts of fabric she couldn't afford, she changed course to secure her future. A sign emblazoned with a pair of scissors and a tape measure swung in the breeze. Without giving a second thought, she crossed the road, sidestepping the ruts of ice and snow toward the tailor shop. Confident in her abilities and her experience as a seamstress and pattern maker, she mentally composed her proposal.

Just as she reached the boardwalk, she caught sight of Sam talking with a mother and her two children and couldn't help but smile. Cottonwood Falls was lucky to have a kind, strong, and genuinely nice man as their sheriff.

Her heart skipped a beat knowing she claimed him as her friend. And maybe something more , a little voice whispered.

Olivia wasn't sure when or why that thought entered her mind. Maybe it was the way her heart had stuttered when her eyes met his. Or maybe it was how he made her feel safe in his arms when he kept her from falling.

Could the Lord's plan for her future include Sam Wright? Was that His reason for bringing her to Cottonwood Falls?

She took a deep breath and opened the door to the tailor's shop, Auntie Dee's words ringing in her ears. Buck up, dear Livvy. You'll never know if you don't start taking your future into your own hands .

"So, you've been working here for two weeks. How do you like it?"

Olivia waited until she reached the end of the seam she was stitching before leaning back in her chair. "I like it, Gus. The hours and the work suit me…it feels like home."

Gus Schneider beamed. " Ja . When I see you, and you tell me where you worked, I know right away you are a good seamstress," he said in a pronounced German accent.

Two weeks ago, armed with determination and trust in the Lord, she approached Gus Schneider. Initially intimidated by his tall, imposing stature, a shock of white hair, and pale blue eyes, he soon put her at ease with his friendly smile and charming accent. Once he learned of her experience with the Butterick Pattern Company, he hired her on the spot, telling her he'd been looking for someone to help him with the workload.

The first few days they danced around one another. Olivia was unsure what her duties were and Gus wasn't accustomed to having another person in the shop. But together, they worked out a plan. Gus would continue greeting the customers while she would remain in the workroom. Because of her commitment to Aggie and the boarding house, she couldn't start working until noon.

Yet, she'd never been busier or happier. Oh, she missed Auntie Dee and some of her friends, but here she found she could use the talents the Lord had blessed her with to their fullest extent. She had no idea what the future held but continued to trust in His promise. She felt certain her future would be prosperous and happy. After all, He'd already saved her from an unspeakable situation, found her a friend in Sam, secured a job for her, and blessed her with the courage to make a difference. And with the wages Gus was paying her, she was planning a bold move.

She would buy her own house.

She was tired of waiting for a marriage proposal that would include a dapper beau bent on one knee, offering a bouquet of fragrant flowers and a poetic promise of undying love and commitment. Besides, that only happens in fairy tales. Not in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas.

"Tomorrow, I will bring dinner…rouladen and spaetzle. I will wait for you to come, ja ?"

Olivia thought of the leftover biscuits and withered apple she'd scoffed down on her way to the shop. "That sounds delicious, Gus. I would be pleased to share a meal with you."

The bell over the door jingled announcing a customer. "Back to work," he said as he disappeared through the curtain separating the front room from the work area.

Olivia changed out the dark thread for a white one and re-threaded the needle on the machine. The lace jabot on Mrs. Gilbranson's favorite shirtwaist was torn, courtesy of her nine-month-old grandson. She had just turned the handwheel lowering the pressure foot when Gus popped his head around the curtain, his expression solemn, his brows drawn together. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Are you in trouble with the law?"

Alarmed, her eyes narrowed, as if in confusion. "No. Not that I'm aware of. Why? Has something happened?" She put aside her sewing and headed to the front of the shop.

Sam stopped twirling his hat and smiled broadly. "I stopped by the boardinghouse to see how you've settled in. Aggie told me you've been working here."

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, strangely flattered by his interest. "Yes, for two weeks now. Gus offered me a position as a seamstress…part-time in the afternoons."

Gus came to stand beside her. "I'll keep my eye on her, Sheriff. She won't cause you any trouble."

Olivia smiled at her employer's defense of her character. "I promise I won't cause you a moment's uneasiness, Sheriff." She draped a cross over her heart.

Sam grinned. "Can I talk with you for a minute…outside?"

Even though she had no reason to feel uncomfortable, Olivia's thoughts were muddled. Why would the sheriff want to speak with her alone? She shivered not from the anticipated cold but from Sam's hands on her shoulders as he helped her with her coat.

They stood on the boardwalk, and Olivia couldn't understand why she felt so nervous. "Sheriff, I don't believe I've done anything—"

Still grinning, Sam shook his head. "I thought we agreed you were going to call me Sam. And no, you haven't done anything. I was just checking on you. Gus Schneider can be a challenging old goat at times, but it's obvious he likes you."

"He's been very kind," she agreed, noticing a faint glint of humor in his eyes. Still wondering why Sam hadn't bothered to check on her since her arrival, she searched his face, unable to understand why her heart began to hammer in her chest when he was near.

"No plans to leave then?"

Olivia pulled her paletot closer as her gaze traveled up and down both sides of the main street. She had a roof over her head, food to eat, a coin or two in her pocket now, and most importantly, she was making friends, as evidenced by Margaret Hennigan's friendly wave. And last Sunday, Harriet Milford, the mayor's wife invited her to join the town's quilters group. "Not at the moment…unless something happens and I'm forced to leave."

"I don't foresee that coming about. Aggie Clegg is mighty pleased with the work you're doing at the boardinghouse…and she's not the easiest woman to please."

Olivia couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm happy to help. The boarders seem to appreciate my cooking, and they promise to spread the word. Hopefully, it will bring in more business for Aggie."

"I'm glad to hear things are going well for you. If Gus or Aggie start to give you a hard time, you know where to find me." He shoved his hands in his pocket and lowered his head as if he was about to share a secret with her. "Look, if you're not busy some evening, would you like to have supper with me at the café? The food's not half bad and I've been told I'm a fairly charming fella."

Olivia gave a gentle laugh. "I'm sure all mothers tell their sons how charming they are."

The sheriff turned away and gazed at something in the distance. "I wouldn't know about that, Miss Talbot. Unfortunately, I never knew either of my parents. I was raised in an orphanage."

"Oh, sheriff, I'm so sorry. Often, I speak before thinking. Please forgive me." She laid a hand on his arm, hoping the gesture might give him a measure of comfort.

"You're forgiven on one condition…accept my invitation for supper one evening?"

She had every intention of saying no. But when he flashed her a hopeful grin that turned her legs to mush, she could only nod. "I'd be pleased to go to supper with you, Sheriff."

"I'll be calling on you, Miss Talbot." He was still grinning when he gave her a two-finger tap on the brim of his hat and crossed the street. She watched him walk away and wondered if he used that smile on more than one woman in his life.

"What did the sheriff want? Everything good, ja ?"

"Yes, Gus. Everything is good. I met him the first day I came to town. He was making sure I'm settled in."

Gus relaxed and offered a knowing smile. "Maybe so, but these eyes aren't so old that I can't see the sheriff is—how they say—smitten with you."

Surprised at Gus's observation, Olivia's heart lurched. "He was just being nice," she offered, hoping to end any speculation. She headed back to her sewing. But as she lowered the pressure bar she couldn't help thinking of Sam Wright's honey-brown hair, unusual hazel eyes, his grin, and an invitation to supper that set her heart aflutter.

Despite the bright sun, Sam couldn't shake the chill that had engulfed him since he'd extended an invitation to Olivia to share a meal with him at the cafe.

And it wasn't because of the frigid temperatures.

What were you thinking, boy? "I guess I wasn't," he said aloud, swinging Gideon's reins over the hitching rail outside the jailhouse. He reached inside his jacket for the withered apple he'd brought with him. As he fed the horse his afternoon treat, Sam stroked a hand down the animal's majestic neck and took a quick inventory of the activity around him.

Though no snow had fallen in the past week, the temperatures had plunged. People hurried about their business, their breaths pluming in frozen puffs around their heads. In the distance, a group of children laughed, obviously happy to be out of school for the day.

Drawing in a long pull of air, he hoped it would clear his head. It didn't.

"I couldn't help it, Gid," he murmured to the horse. "She looked so pretty with her shiny curls and blue dress with all that lace." He nearly groaned aloud thinking how much he wanted to pull her into his arms. "And now I've gone and done it. I asked her to supper at the café…and she accepted. Why did I do that?"

Gideon whinnied and tossed his head. He had no answer.

Neither did Sam.

Determined to come up with a plan, he gave Gideon one last pat and entered the jailhouse. With efficient movements, he took off his hat, gloves, and duster before turning his gaze onto his deputy.

Feet propped up on the desk, Jess Knowles acknowledged him with a two-finger salute. "Morning, Sheriff."

Sam nodded. "Deputy Knowles."

Younger than Sam by ten years, Jess was nearly his height but possessed a leaner build. With his blue eyes and dark hair, curling over his collar, he was popular with the ladies in town.

And he returned their attention. But that aside, he was a competent lawman, with uncommon reflexes, and a cool head. Sam had hired him two years ago. It was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Flashing a grin that never failed to garner attention, the deputy rose and went to the coffee pot on the stove, poured two cups of the steaming brew, and handed one to Sam.

Sam lifted it in gratitude before he took a sip. "Any problems last night?"

"A little rowdiness. Nothing I couldn't take care of. Most of the fellas left by midnight."

Although Cottonwood Falls was a regular stop on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe rail line, with its one-saloon ordinance, and strong Christian influence, it was a safe, law-abiding community.

Except for the trouble that came calling in the form of Boone Henry and his gang some weeks back.

Most days his job was boring, exactly what he wanted. He'd had enough of fighting in the war and chasing outlaws as a U.S. marshal for one lifetime.

"Want me to take the ride through town?" Jess asked, referring to their daily routine check with the local businesses.

"Nah, I'll do it." Since his place was on the outskirts of town, Sam had already swung by the nearby ranches before coming in, and once he spoke with the shopkeepers, he'd take Gideon to the livery for a brush down and a portion of feed. "Go on home, Jess. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jess hurried to drain his cup. With far more energy than Sam would have had after being on the job since ten the night before, the deputy donned his outerwear. Instead of leaving, he paused near the door. "Say, Sam, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Shoot. I'm listening."

"I've seen you talking with that new seamstress in town…you know, the one at Gus's tailor shop. Think you can wrangle an introduction?"

A vein pulsed in Sam's neck and his back teeth clenched at Jess's interest in Olivia. Given his deputy's reputation with the ladies, it wasn't surprising. What was surprising was that it had taken Jess more than a week to inquire about her.

"She's off limits, Jess." A burst of anger spiked his tone. "And that's the end of it."

"You sure about that? Jess scratched a hand across his stubbled jaw, his eyes taking on a pensive light. "I haven't seen her with anyone."

True, Sam acknowledged. And I intend to keep it that way .

He wasn't introducing Olivia to Jess or any other bachelor in Cottonwood Falls. He told himself that she had barely gotten over the shock of discovering Nate Forester had died. It wasn't personal. It was just the right thing to do.

Keep telling yourself that, Sam Wright

"You won't be getting an introduction from me."

"Why not? Is someone already courtin' her?"

Sam raked a hand through his hair. "She's a churchgoing, Christian woman," he said, not knowing whether or not it was true.

The deputy's eyes narrowed. "I don't intend to stand before Pastor Hall and pledge my troth to her." His grin returned, hitching up on one side. "She's new to town. Just thought she could use a friend."

"She's too old for you." As soon as he said it aloud, the words sounded foolish since he guessed she was closer to his age than Jess's.

Suddenly, the deputy's smile widened. "I see how it is. You're smitten with the lady, and you don't want anyone beating a path to her door. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."