Chapter Six

"More food?" Sam groaned and leaned back against the settee when Olivia set down a tray filled with slices of cake, pie, and a dish filled with delicious-looking chocolates on a small tea table. "After that feast, I won't be able to eat for a week. You outdid yourself, Livvy."

"It's no wonder, Sam Wright," Aggie laughed. "You and Ed managed to put away enough food for six people."

Olivia smiled, noticing the affectionate gaze Aggie bestowed on her intended. They truly made a sweet couple. Secure in the love of a good man, Aggie's demeanor had softened, changing her entire appearance. She had found love twice, but this was Ed's first time. He'd told Olivia he was glad he waited for just the right woman to come along at just the right time. With their wedding only a month away, their relationship appeared to be on steady ground.

Their upcoming happily-ever-after gave Olivia hope.

Over the last three weeks, she had learned more about life in Cottonwood Falls than she had ever expected. She'd honed her cooking skills, experimenting with local ingredients not known to her back East, and under Gus's guidance, she learned how to master French seams, something she struggled with at Butterick. From Miriam Little Sun MacClarren, she gained an appreciation of her Pawnee culture and hoped she offered tolerance in return.

As for Sam, she learned that a man didn't need riches to exert his authority to earn the respect of others.

After their drive to Flint Hills and making the acquaintance of Miriam, they had kept their fledging romance to themselves. Aggie and Ed knew, of course, but swore an oath to keep quiet

"I'll just have coffee if you please," Roscoe Hogan said, tipping his head toward the tea table. "Peggy, what would you like?"

Peggy Cobb, Roscoe's guest for the dinner, looked over the selections. "I believe I'll have the gingerbread. Oh, and perhaps one of those delicious-looking candies." Petite, and more than a bit on the stout side, she made Olivia smile. The nursery rhyme, Jack Spratt , played a continuous loop in her head. Peggy was as short as she was round while Roscoe was as tall and thin as a rake.

"I'll have some of that black and white cake," Sam said.

Olivia served up a generous piece and handed it to him. "For future reference, Sheriff, it's called Neapolitan Cake."

"Whatever it's called, it's good," he replied forking another bite. Once he finished the cake and washed it down with coffee, he stood and went to Olivia's side. His hand found hers and as always his touch filled her with a strange inner excitement.

"Is this the part of the festivities where you announce you're smitten with a certain seamstress?" asked Roscoe peering over the rim of his cup.

Olivia colored fiercely, expecting Sam to shy away from the situation. Instead, he squeezed her hand.

"How Roscoe found out is a mystery, but he's right. Livvy and I have an understanding," he announced, giving her an affectionate smile. "Who would have guessed that Boone Henry and his gang were responsible for dropping this lovely lady on my doorstep?"

Laughter, congratulations, hugs, and kisses buzzed around her. Yet, all the while Olivia couldn't help but realize how right he was. Had she not fallen in love with Nate Forester's letters, she never would have traveled to Cottonwood Falls. A small part of her, however, mourned the loss of a kind man who wanted nothing more than to raise a family and share a life with her. She enjoyed these past weeks, building a new life here in Kansas, and she was on her way to falling in love with her whole heart. Sam liked her and spent time with her because he enjoyed being with her as much as she enjoyed his company.

By late afternoon, with the kitchen set to rights and the leftover food shared with the departing guests, Aggie and Ed announced they were accompanying Pastor Hall and his wife home to discuss the wedding. Those boarders who had shared the feast with them either retired to their rooms or left, their destination most likely the saloon.

Olivia brewed a second pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the entire house. She held the cup to her lips and peered at Sam. Dark shadows rimmed his eyes as he stared into the flames crackling in the hearth.

Sam hadn't shared anything about his past, and Olivia hadn't asked. He'd admitted to not loving anyone since he was seventeen. He was now thirty-five. She did a quick calculation in her head. He would have been of age to join the army during the War Between the States. Had something happened to a man of his standing to choose to be alone for so long? Two hours ago he'd proudly announced they were courting. Did that entitle her to meddle in his life?

"What's on your mind, Sam? You've turned very quiet."

Sam turned away from staring at the flames and met her questioning gaze. "Just thinking how lucky I am. I have you, a job that gives me satisfaction, friends, and how different things might have turned out."

"Do you want to talk about it? Aunt Dee always said troubles shared are troubles halved."

Sam leaned forward on the settee, resting his forearms on his thighs, his hands clasped as if in prayer. "I joined the Union Army one month after my sixteenth birthday. After four years of losing so many friends, men who had wives and families. I often wondered why I was spared. My commanding officer suggested I join the U.S. marshals. After a while, I got tired of chasing outlaws across the plains, eating lousy food, and sleeping on the ground. When I heard about the sheriff job opening up in Cottonwood Falls, I gave my notice to the marshal's service and hightailed it here. I figured if it didn't suit me, I could always return to the marshal service."

A moment of panic seized Olivia's heart. Her hand shot out and covered his. "Are you leaving town?"

"No, but it took me a while to understand why the Lord had been looking out for me. Growing up in the orphanage in St. Louis, we were required to memorize verses from the bible. The one that stuck with me is from Jeremiah. ‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

The moment Sam began quoting the verse, it struck Olivia that she, too, had grabbed onto its message, after Auntie Dee's passing, the loss of employment, and once again when she learned of Nate Forester's untimely demise.

"Once I met you, the Lord's words became clear that I would prosper not in coin, but in love. Livvy, for most of my life I'd been slogging from one day to the next. I want to return to the land of the living, I want to marry and raise a family…and I want to do it with you."

When Sam reached for her hand, her cheeks colored under the heat of his gaze. It was fitting that he had proclaimed his affection for her on a day of giving thanks. It seemed the Lord had already brought Sam into her life and in time He would bring them that future as well.

"You don't know much about me, Sam. The truth is… I've never been courted by a man." Her confession brought a look of surprise to his face.

As tender and light as a summer breeze, Sam kissed the back of her hand. "Those men back East obviously don't have eyes in their head."

Olivia didn't pull her hand away when Sam linked their fingers together. Instead, she scooted closer to him and relaxed, sinking into his cushioning embrace. Perhaps by this time next year, they'd be married. She closed her eyes imagining a home with Sam, and in time, children to care for and love.

"Livvy, this is a bit forward, and I'll understand if you refuse, but I'd like you to come out to my ranch one Sunday after services. I'm not much of a cook but I can pull something together. Maybe you'd help me do a bit of decorating for Christmas? We could even cut down a tree if you want."

Come out to my ranch . Her eyes widened at his invitation. Wouldn't Auntie Dee raise her eyebrows at that suggestion? Olivia was raised to believe that it was unacceptable to visit a man's home without a chaperone. A smile curved her lips as she remembered that this was Kansas in 1880 and not Boston. Sam had been a perfect gentleman since they'd met.

"You have evergreen trees on your property?"

Sam laughed, enjoying the excited sparkle in Olivia's eyes. "Nah, there's a thicket of eastern red cedars in a pasture just a mile or so from the house. Some of the trees are kind of tall but, the seedlings are just the right size."

"I've never cut down a tree before," Olivia admitted.

"Never?" Sam furrowed his brow. "Where did you get a tree?"

Olivia swallowed visibly, and Sam watched the sparkle leave her eyes. "I never had a tree until I ran away from my father and went to live with Auntie Dee when I was twelve. At the holidays, my aunt would wait until two days before Christmas to buy a tree from a man selling them on Boston Commons. He'd only charge her half price for a tree that barely came to my knees. But the best part was decorating that tiny tree with family ornaments I never knew existed. We'd decorate the mantle with extra evergreen boughs the man would give us instead of throwing them away. Auntie Dee would add bits of red ribbons and candles" She managed to smile at him. "She always made it special for me."

"I would have liked to have met her," Sam said.

Olivia cocked her head and assessed him. "I don't know what she would have thought of you, Sam, but she wouldn't have minced words telling you so."

"Why did you run away from your father? Did he hurt you, Livvy?"

Though she remained close to his side, Sam felt Olivia's spirit drift away from him. "My mother died in a carriage accident when I was seven. That left just me and my father. He didn't hurt me…not in the way you think. Most of the time he ignored me while he slept off the liquor. Each night he dragged me with him. I slept in saloons and sporting halls under the tables while he gambled."

Sam kept his thoughts to himself as he sensed there was more to Olivia's story.

"One night when I was twelve, Pa was losing badly. As a joke one of the men suggested I play his hand. You don't spend the better part of your days and nights in a saloon without learning how to gamble. My father took him up on his suggestion and—wouldn't you know it, I won. Pa thought I would give it to him, but I didn't. Instead, I ran straight to the train station, bought a ticket, and took the first train back to Boston. Auntie Dee sent me to school, taught me how to act as a lady, and made sure we sat in the family pew at church on Sundays. She was a seamstress and taught me to sew. Because of that, I was lucky enough to secure employment at the Butterick Pattern Company."

Sam pulled her back to his side where—she hoped—she'd always have a home. "And yet you survived, Livvy. I'm proud of you."

"You're not ashamed of my past? Of what I heard and saw at the saloons?"

He pressed a kiss into her fragrant hair. "Not at all. What happened in the past should stay in the past. I believe it's who we are now is what counts. But I'm curious about how you became Nate's mail-order bride?"

"It was Auntie Dee's doing. She left me two things… my sewing machine and a letter of introduction to Mrs. Crenshaw. She's the lady who runs the mail-order agency who matched me up with Nate." Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "Since the house and everything in it was auctioned off, and I'd lost my position, I didn't have many options. So when Mrs. Crenshaw guaranteed I'd be a bride by Christmas, well, how could I pass up an offer like that?"

Sam grinned. "There's still a month before Christmas. Keep in mind it is the season of miracles."

On Sunday morning, Sam unexpectedly showed up at the boardinghouse, announcing he was picking up Olivia and Aggie for church. Besides a playful elbow in the ribs, Aggie continued tipping her head toward Sam and sending knowing looks her way.

The whispers started even before they were joined by Ed Walsh and the four of them took their places on the wooden pews. She glanced at Sam, but he appeared unconcerned by the stares and whispers around them. Aggie and Ed seemed oblivious as well, intent only on staring at their joined hands resting on Ed's muscled thigh. Embarrassed that she should be staring at such an intimate moment, she turned her attention to Pastor Hall as the organist wheezed out the notes of the first song.

With a smile, she handed Sam a hymnal. He whispered his thanks. His voice, rough as gravel sent pinpricks of heat radiating deep within her.

Two songs later, the pastor took his place at the pulpit He looked over the congregation, smiled kindly, then began his sermon.

"A warm welcome to you on this cool but sunny morning. Today, my message to you is from Isaiah 40:31. ‘But they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.' I know that waiting is hard. My patience ebbs and flows nearly by the minute…just ask my Myrtle. The Lord often makes us wait as an answer to prayers we aren't quite ready for, and as we wait on Him our capacity is stretched and we can receive even greater than we could have even asked. When we wait, we listen. When He causes us to wait He is giving us space to hear His voice, undistracted by the noisy voices which surround us. During times of waiting the Lord is giving us space to be encouraged, strengthened, and healed by Him. He is trying to shield us from the dangers that we would inevitably walk into by trying to rush the end goal. As we continue to wait and focus on the Lord and not on our needs, we can set our hearts in a place of gratitude."

As he spoke, Pastor Hall ran his gaze over the flock, stopped for a second on Sam, then moved on to her. She looked away, fussed with the frogs on her paletot, and smoothed her hands down her skirts. It was as if the man was trying to make his point directly to her.

Shield us from dangers . His words found their mark as Olivia contemplated what might have happened to her if Sam hadn't captured Nate's killer. As for setting her heart in a place of gratitude, she wouldn't have believed a month ago, the Lord would have blessed her with an abundance of all good things. A safe place to lay her head in the evenings, a fulfilling position, a handful of good friends…and Sam.

"In conclusion, we serve a God found in the whispers as well as the waves. During this season when you are waiting for His direction, be grateful for his enduring grace to try to be a notable example of waiting well."

They stood to sing the closing hymn. Seeming to sense her gaze on him, Sam's eyes met hers. There was an invitation in the smoldering depths of his hazel eyes that made her cheeks flare and she quickly turned away.

Her soprano and Sam's baritone blended effortlessly. The organist stopped and she closed her eyes, imagining them as a couple with a child or two or three. Surprisingly, it felt right.

Sam's delight that he was given the gift of sharing the bench and the Lord's word with Olivia turned to disappointment once the service ended. More than anything he'd wanted to escort her outside then head over to the café for dinner. But he'd been waylaid by a host of people commenting about one thing or another. Not to mention the half-dozen meddling mamas who continually paraded their daughters in front of him, presumably expecting one to spark his interest. But the only one he was interested in had already left.

And now he suspected someone else was interested in her as well.

He growled low in his throat watching a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and a familiar disarming smile competing for Olivia's attention. "Mornin', Sheriff.

Sam responded with a glare and a muttered response. He knew his tone bordered on rudeness. "Jess."

Yet, as he guessed, his deputy seemed perfectly unaffected by his cold response. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Jess smiled a big, toothy grin that set Sam's teeth on edge.

Shoulders tense, expression tight, Sam blew out a slow hiss. "Olivia, this is my deputy, Jess Knowles. Jess, this is Miss Olivia Talbot.

"Miss Talbot." Jess nudged Sam but his blue-eyed focus was on Olivia. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last. I've heard a lot about you."

Heat seared Sam's cheeks when Olivia shot him a wondering look seemingly not understanding the tension between the two men. "I'm sorry I can't say the same about you, Deputy Knowles."

He started to say more but Sam tugged Olivia's hand through the crook of his arm. "You'll have to excuse us, Jess. Olivia and I have plans this afternoon." His nod to Jess held a meaning that the deputy understood as he tipped his hat and strode away.

Sam tamped down his irritation when Olivia turned and gave the man a friendly wave.

"Look, Olivia, I realize I was being presumptuous in front of Jess—"

"You don't say," she interrupted, keeping her voice low. He kept his eyes on the foot traffic and buggies leaving the churchyard; his thoughts, however, were on the woman who stood close enough to him he could feel her warmth beneath her coat.

"I should have asked you earlier if you'd like to go to the cafe after services."

"Yes, you should have." She tugged her arm free. "I don't know how women in this town feel about a man's high-handedness, but it doesn't sit well with me, Sheriff. In the future, please be sure to consult with me regarding my plans.

In the future. Well, at least she was considering him as part of the future. That thought cheered him as he glanced over his shoulder to see Ed and Aggie drive away in Aggie's buggy. He smiled to himself. Olivia's safety and her ride home now rested with him, and he planned to make the most of it. "I realize it won't make up for my mistake, but I'd like to take you to the ranch today. I even got us a box lunch from the cafe." He held out his hand in invitation.

Olivia's gaze followed the last of the wagons and buggies leaving the churchyard before she turned back to him. "If I recall, you did ask me to visit your ranch on Thanksgiving." She placed her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "So I don't think the world will tilt off its axis if I accept your offer. I'd be honored to see your ranch, Sam"

At first glance, Olivia thought every building on the place needed to be demolished but she wouldn't dare have said as much to Sam.

"I realize it doesn't look very promising," Sam said, reading Olivia's mind, "but the framework is solid, and Otis Moody, the former owner put a new roof on the house and barn. I've added new front porch steps but I'm still working on the railing."

"Goodness, Sam, the house is quite large," she exclaimed, the closer they came to the house. Though she was still uncomfortable with the wagon and held onto the bench with both hands, she leaned forward taking in the structure.

"It is," Sam admitted sheepishly. "But I bought it mainly for the barn and the acreage. I needed the land to grow the herd. The first year, I had to purchase the cattle, pasture them, put up enough hay to get them through the winter, and then plant wheat to harvest the following year. I was lucky the former owners included the farm tools and equipment—rusty though they were—in the deal."

Sam brought the wagon to a stop, set the brake, and jumped down. While he jogged around the wagon, Olivia gingerly slid along the bench. Since Cottonwood Falls was to be her home for the foreseeable future, she was determined to get over her fear of riding in a wagon.

"Are you ready for the tour, Livvy?"

With his arms extended, Olivia steeled herself for the descent, and for the tingles to race up her arms and spiral down to her toes, leaving her light-headed when Sam's hands spanned her waist and swung her to the ground.

Rendered weak-kneed by the nearness of Sam's body against hers, she felt the ground beneath her feet but clung to his shoulders until she was sure she wouldn't topple over. If Sam noticed, he didn't comment much to her relief. Once steady, she tilted her head upward. The house was far grander than she imagined or that Sam let on.

"The door isn't new," he stated, inserting a key into the lock. "But it keeps out the critters and the cold."

Always the gentleman, Sam stepped aside to let her go in before him. Though the floors needed a good scrubbing, and the windows claimed a layer of grim, the house boasted a large sitting room, a dining room, a small room that might be a library or an office, and a surprisingly roomy kitchen. Far from new, the cook stove looked like it required a good cleaning, but apparently, it was functioning if the coffee pot and empty skillet with traces of eggs were any indication. In addition to the stove, there was a big soapstone sink with a hand pump and a small table with two chairs.

An image of cooking and sharing a meal at the table with Sam popped into her head. Did he bring her out here to get her reaction to the place?

Sam opened a drawer to the left of the soapstone sink. "Otis left several things behind, including kitchen utensils, two iron bed frames, and some furniture."

Olivia wandered into the sitting room. A lumpy settee and a wooden rocker, holding a few books, were placed on a well-worn braided rug. A neat stack of logs was located on one side of the hearth, and a low fire burned in the stone fireplace.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" Sam brushed off his hands after laying a log on the glowing embers.

Olivia turned, her skirts flaring out. Despite the run-down outside veneer of the house lay a sturdy foundation. Life was sometimes like that, she thought. Bruised and broken but with enough love and caring could be put to rights. "Oh, yes, Sam. This is a grand house. You're building a wonderful life here."

Sam sighed and reached for her hand. "It will be. But right now it's slow-going…and lonely." He looked around, then at her. "I think it's missing something—"

"A woman's touch, perhaps." Without warning the words spilled from her lips. Thoroughly embarrassed, she couldn't imagine what had possessed her to say something so forward. Perhaps it was Sam's hand wrapped around hers, or the heart-rending tenderness of his gaze, or the heat from the fire, but suddenly the room felt much too warm.

Although she tugged at their joined hands, Sam tightened his hold. A slow perusal started at her head and worked its way down to the tips of her shoes then back up again. And the way his gaze lingered on her lips made her insides heat even further in an unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant way.

Olivia licked her suddenly dry lips and looked into his face. A golden fire burned in Sam's eyes. Drawn to the warm flame, she lifted her free hand and ran her fingers over his stubble-covered cheek and jaw.

"Sam, I…" Olivia forgot what she wanted to say, forgot everything except how much she wanted him to kiss her…a kiss she didn't even think she wanted until it was upon her.

Sam's lips brushed against hers so softly, she wasn't sure they'd touched. He lifted his hand and looked into her face, searching for something he seemed to find before he whispered her name, making a tremor of anticipation race through her.

She was sure he was going to brush his lips against hers a second time but instead, he kissed her forehead and stepped away. "I think I'd better show you the barn before we have lunch," he said as though nothing had happened. With that, he left the sitting room and headed for the door.

From the corner of his eye, Sam watched Olivia. Wispy curls framed her face while her skirts swished around her ankles as she walked the well-swept alley between the row of stalls.

He'd summoned every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing her until they were both breathless.

Bringing her out to the ranch wasn't the smartest move he'd ever made. But he wanted to see her reaction to the house, to see if it might be someplace she would consider living. He didn't expect to hold her close. Didn't expect to nearly give in to his desire to taste her lips.

Regardless of his good intentions to keep his distance until Olivia indicated more than just a passing interest in him, he couldn't help himself.

The glow from the fireplace had painted her in the most beautiful golden hues as he'd threaded her fingers with his. He came so close, so unbelievably close, to kissing her the way he wanted to and claiming her for his own.

But he couldn't. Even when a breath of space was the only thing separating their lips, Sam only brushed his lips over hers. Instead of deepening the kiss, he turned his head, took a deep, shuddering breath, and stepped away.

At that moment, Sam knew he wanted Olivia more than he'd ever wanted anyone or anything in the whole of his life.