Chapter Seven

Two weeks before Christmas Eve, and Aggie and Ed's wedding, Olivia planned to look at a small two-bedroom house. The owner, an elderly widower was a friend of Aggie's. He had lost his wife several months before and was heading to his daughter's home in San Francisco. He didn't want to sell the home he and his wife built when they first came to Cottonwood Falls. He was, however, willing to discuss renting it to the right person, and since Aggie vouched for her character, he agreed to meet with Olivia.

She didn't know if she could afford to rent the home, but she was confident that if it was meant to be then it would happen. In two weeks, she'd need to leave the boardinghouse as Aggie and Ed would be returning from their honeymoon trip and making it their home.

She lifted her paletot and hood from the peg rack by the back door. "I won't be gone long, Aggie. Fourth Street is only a few blocks away. We'll do the final fitting on your dress when I get back."

"Maybe you should ask Sam to go with you," she said airily.

Olivia lifted her hood. "Why on earth would I do that? I'm certain the last thing Sam Wright would be interested in doing on a Saturday afternoon is looking at a house with me."

"Oh, I don't know. I figured that since he took you out to his place, it would only be right to invite him to yours."

"Aggie, I think these wedding plans might have loosened a few bolts in your brain. How can it be my house when I haven't even it yet?" Though Sam's house needed sprucing up, the barn and acreage appeared well-maintained. His herd was equally impressive. But she didn't understand how the two facts related to one another.

She picked up her purse, patting it to make sure she had money in case the owner agreed. "I'm leaving, Aggie." As soon as she closed the door, Sam stepped onto the boardwalk.

"Going out for an afternoon stroll, Livvy?"

"Yes. I'm going to look at a home that's available for rent. I'll need someplace to live after the new year." Whenever she saw Sam Wright, he appeared even more attractive than before.

"I'd be happy to come along…just to make sure the owner's not trying to cheat you."

Olivia couldn't help but laugh aloud, especially after her conversation with Aggie. Had she arranged this ‘coincidental' meeting with Sam? "I'll be perfectly fine. I'm sure you have far more important things to do."

He grinned. "I'd rather go with you."

Their eyes met and for a moment everything else disappeared. The street, the noise, even the light dusting of snow swirling in the air. Her thoughts and emotions centered on Sam's nearness. She quickly stepped back and summoned a smile.

"If you're sure, I'd enjoy your company."

Instead of answering her, he offered his arm and fell into step beside her. While they walked, Sam told her of the earlier ruckus at the saloon when two men got into a fight over one of the saloon girls. When one of them pulled a knife, the owner asked Sam to intervene, and he gladly hauled him across the street to settle down in a cell.

"The people of Cottonwood Falls are lucky to have you, Sam," Olivia said as they approached the cabin.

Giddy at the thought of having her own place, Olivia quickly imagined herself living here. They were welcomed by the owner who offered her a tour of the interior while Sam performed an outside inspection of the structure.

It was small, but adequate for her needs. It boasted a large fireplace to warm her in winter while during the warmer months, she could enjoy the breezes through the open windows. There were two equal-sized rooms. She could use one for sleeping and the other she'd set up as a sewing room. It had a small kitchen and a nearby sitting area. "This will do nicely. I'll take it!"

"We haven't talked about the price yet," the owner pointed out.

"Whatever it is, I'll make it work."

Sam laughed and Olivia realized she hadn't even noticed that he had stepped inside.

The man named the terms and conditions as well as how and where she should send the monthly payments. Olivia agreed, and since the sheriff was there as a witness, a deal was struck.

The owner was leaving after Christmas making it a perfect time for Olivia to gather what few things she owned. She was brimming with excitement like a cup running over. All her life she depended on others, and now for the first time, she was the one to make it happen.

They headed back to the boardinghouse together and Sam chuckled out loud. "I swear you look as if you just won the gamble of your life."

Olivia laughed at the irony of his statement. "I did and finally it feels like I have a future to look forward to."

Sam held her gaze and cleared his throat. "I feel the same way."

Now and then he would say something that caught her off guard. She could never be sure if he was trying to tell her something or if he was just being kind. But right now, Olivia hoped he was looking forward to the future because she was staying in Cottonwood Falls.

"How about this one, Sam?"

Sam trudged over to where Olivia stood proudly next to a red cedar that was nearly as tall as her. As he'd warned her, there wasn't a pine tree to be found. Instead, he suggested a thicket of eastern red cedars in a neglected pasture just a half-mile from the house. While many of the trees were quite large, the seedlings were just the right size.

"That's a grand tree." He held out one end of the cut saw to her. "You ready?"

Unexpected joy lit up Olivia's face. "I am!"

Sam hid his smile. Forty minutes ago, he'd been unable to contain his disapproval when she'd bounded out of the boardinghouse wearing a coarse work shirt and a pair of men's trousers fastened at the waist by a length of rope under one of Aggie's less-than-flattering chore coats.

Once he had vented his irritation at her choice of clothing, she let her temper rise, also, telling him she didn't appreciate his high-handedness. She'd also pointed out that her choice of clothing was far more practical than wearing petticoats and skirts to cut down a Christmas tree.

After hearing her argument, he reluctantly admitted he may have been a bit arrogant with her. But the realization she may have been right was tougher to swallow. But he couldn't help it. Whenever he was around her, he felt an unreasonable need to protect her, to keep her safe.

"Are you going to stand there and let me do all the work?" Olivia looked up at him from her kneeling position

Sam answered by tamping down the snow around the perimeter of the trunk with his heavy boots, then dropped to a prone position on the other side of the tree. "Lay down on your side and take the saw by the handle. He waited until Olivia complied. "Ready?...on three. One, two, three."

Alternately pulling and pushing in a rhythmic motion, the teeth of the saw bit into the wood. "Let go of the handle and stand up," Sam instructed. "Brace both hands on the trunk about two-thirds on the way up the tree and push forward while I make the final cut."

Olivia scrambled to her feet, brushing the snow from her clothes. Bracing her hands as Sam instructed, she waited until he made one last swift cut before hopscotching out of the way. The tree landed on the snow with a soft thud.

"Congratulations, Livvy. You just cut down your first Christmas tree." Sam enjoyed the look of pride and satisfaction on her face. He could have done the job with a few hearty whacks of the axe, but it was more important he show her how they could work together as a team.

"If only Auntie Dee could see me now," she crowed. "Another chore added to my list of accomplishments.

"Not to mention wearing a man's britches. Next, I'll have to teach you how to drive a wagon, he said as he lashed together several branches to make a travois of sorts. He placed the tree on top and then attached two pieces of rope on either side.

Sam held out one piece of rope to Olivia. "Let's go decorate a Christmas tree, Miss Livvy."

As the sun began its descent, the sky erupted into a kaleidoscope of pastel hues, casting long shadows that danced with the fading day. Squinting against the fiery display Sam noted that the setting sun seemed to mirror his growing feelings for Olivia, along with promised whispers of love.

When they arrived back at the barn, Sam found an axe hanging on the wall, and using sure strokes, cut notches in the bottom of the trunk.

"Why are you doing that, Sam?" Olivia asked from the spot where he'd told her to stand.

"The cuts make the wood smell good, and it will be easier for the tree to soak up the water." Setting the tree upright, Sam stuck it in the middle of the dented tin pail filled with rocks he'd found earlier.

Guided by the soft lantern light spilling from a small window welcoming them home, Sam hefted the bucket. By the time he trudged up the porch stairs, through the hall, and set it down he was slightly winded. "Where's the best spot?"

Olivia stopped and admired the red cedar with its clusters of gray-blue berries. Already the warm, woodsy scent of cedar permeated the room, making the space smell wonderfully festive. "I think it'll look good in that corner."

Going down on his haunches, Cole grabbed the bucket and moved it to the spot. He turned it a few times until he was satisfied then stood back.

"Do you have any decorations, Sam?"

"Not many," he admitted. "If they aren't frozen over, I usually just find some bittersweet vines and cook up a batch of popcorn and string it on the branches."

Olivia snapped her fingers. "I have lots of fabric scraps at Gus's shop. I'd be happy to cut strips and tie them to a string with a simple knot."

"Livvy, would you be willing to help me decorate the mantle with the extra cedar boughs we cut to make the travois? I left them in a pile in the barn."

Olivia's sapphire eyes sparkled, and a smile tugged at the corners of her rosy mouth. "There's nothing I'd like better. But it will be dark soon…I really should be getting back to the boarding house. Thank you for making today so special, Sam."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. A chaste kiss, a kiss one would give to a friend. However, what Sam wanted was to kiss her until they were breathless, but reality and reason overrode his ardent desires. He pulled back. He'd never do anything to embarrass her or jeopardize her reputation. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how much I care for you, Livvy? That I have since I first saw you. I may not have said as much, but I do."

A thoughtful smile curved her mouth. "I have a fair inkling, Sam and I hope it doesn't come as a surprise, but I feel the same about you." In a surprising move, she pulled Sam's head down to hers, blending their lips together in a kiss that began as something innocent and tender.

Yearning for this woman quickly overruled what little sense Sam had left. He took control of the kiss, securely wrapping Olivia in his arms. His mouth laid claim to hers, savoring the softness of her lips.

Her fingers caressed the back of his neck and threaded into his hair. Sam deepened the kiss, lost in the sweet bliss he never expected to experience. From her reaction, Olivia felt every bit as mesmerized by their loving exchange as he did.

Unexpectedly, reality set in, and he dropped his arms and stepped back. "Livvy, I want nothing more than to stay right where we are, holding onto each other, and maybe stealing a kiss or two or ten, but I best get you home, or else some of the sharp-tongued gossips in town might slap a label on you that is hard to shake."

"You look lovely, Aggie." Olivia fussed with her friend's wedding attire while they waited for the wedding to begin.

The bodice of the dark green wool dress had a turn- back collar of ecru lace. Long, full sleeves were gathered into matching lace cuffs at Aggie's wrists. The long polonaise jacket had pleated sides and the matching skirt had a deep flounce that formed a small train in the back.

Initially uncomfortable at Olivia's design for the dress, Aggie remarked she wasn't the ‘fussy' type to wear such fripperies. Besides, she'd added, this was her second marriage and she didn't need anything fancy.

But as the dress slowly came together, Olivia saw the transformation in Aggie's expression and when the final fitting was complete, tears trembled on her lashes as she viewed her reflection in the looking glass.

However, at Aggie's insistence that she wouldn't wear a hat, Olivia complied, suggesting a delicate spray of green and white satin roses that she could wear in her hair.

The wedding would take place within the hour just before the Christmas Eve service began, giving Pastor Hall time between the two events, and giving the wedding party to settle into their seats before the rest of the congregation arrived.

The door to the anteroom flew open. "Oh, Aggie!" gushed Peggy Cobb, "you look beautiful!" Peggy was serving as Aggie's attendant while Roscoe was doing the honors for Ed.

Aggie beamed, but her hands holding her bible shook. "Do you think so? I'm as nervous as a cat in a room full of rockin' chairs."

"I don't see why you should be, Aggie. You'll be saying your vows only in front of us, Sam, and Myrtle," said Olivia, referring to those who attended Thanksgiving at the boardinghouse.

" Nein, liebchen," said Gus. He entered the room, his stature appeared even more imposing than ever. Offering to escort Aggie down the aisle, he promised he'd wear a new suit and would spruce himself up a bit. "The whole place…it is filled."

Aggie's hand flew to her chest, and her face blanched as Olivia opened the door to the sacristy and peeked out. Looking beyond the red ribbons and candles at the windows and boughs of fragrant pine, the congregation was filling the seats to overflowing. Aggie tilted to the right and looked over Olivia's shoulder.

"What's everyone doing here?"

"You and Ed invited them to come, and here they are," Sam said with a wink. "Pastor Hall says it's not every day a couple gets married on Christmas Eve. And with that being said, I've come to tell you to get a move on. Ed's waitin' on you, Aggie."

Hurriedly, Olivia and Sam herded everyone in place before claiming their seats in the front pew next to Myrtle Hall. Just as Sam reached for her hand, the organist began to play.

Olivia stared at Peggy walking down the aisle. She had to concentrate on something else other than the spirals of heat winding up her arm to curl around her heart when Sam rubbed his thumb across her wrist. Wearing a dress of French Blue damask with a lace jabot at her throat, at the wide bell sleeves, and on the hem, Peggy reminded Olivia of a fancy cream puff served at the Parker House during afternoon tea. Glad for the distraction, she stifled her laughter just in time to see Gus and Aggie sweep past.

Sam bent down to whisper in her ear. "You did wonders with that dress, Livvy. If I didn't know better, I'd have hardly recognized Aggie."

"From the look on Ed's face, I'm guessing he'd agree with you," she replied.

Instead of experiencing satisfaction with her work on Aggie's dress, Olivia felt a sudden uneasiness. Hoping to dismiss her apprehensions, she turned to the one person with whom she felt the most comfortable.

And found Sam staring down at her, his gaze as soft as a caress. "Have I told you how lovely you look tonight, Livvy?"

His breath ruffled the wispy tendrils framing her face, making her heart hammer against her ribs. Suddenly, she was happy she decided to embellish the cream-colored brocade dress with pearl buttons at the bodice and on the cuffs of the slim, fitted sleeves. Had she done it to boost her self-confidence? Or had she done it to garner Sam's attention?

"Not that I'm counting, Sheriff," she laughed gently, quietly, "but I think that makes number four."

"Merry Christmas!" Pastor Hall smiled broadly before continuing. "Thank you all for joining us on this most blessed night to join Edward Walsh and Agatha Clegg in holy matrimony."

Taking his cue from the pastor, Gus bowed to Aggie, kissed the back of her hand, and then placed it on Ed's arm when they reached the front of the church.

While Olivia struggled to keep her attention on Pastor Hall and the words he spoke, her eyes and thoughts returned to the man beside her. Sam radiated a vitality that drew her like a magnet, yet something in his manner soothed her. Sam looked exceptionally handsome in a dark brown suit that drew attention to his solid chest and broad shoulders. Beneath a brown paisley vest, he wore a cream and brown striped shirt that accentuated his hazel eyes.

He turned his head abruptly and winked at her, a glint of humor in his eyes.

Merciful heavens! She was ogling the man…in the house of the Lord, no less!

Swiftly, she straightened her spine and focused on Pastor Hall. The remainder of the ceremony moved along quickly. Once they exchanged their vows, Ed slipped a simple gold band on his bride's finger. Everyone clapped when Pastor Hall announced Ed could kiss the bride.

"Give her a good one, Ed," someone shouted, causing a joyous swell of cheers to erupt.

When the crowd quieted, the pastor smiled. "Friends, if you will take a few minutes to congratulate the happy couple and allow them to find their seats, we'll then begin the Christmas Eve services."

Once Olivia and Sam offered their congratulations with kisses, hugs, and a hearty handshake, Sam steered her back to their seats. Though happy for her friends, Olivia couldn't put her finger on why she was feeling melancholy again. Was it because she should have been the bride? Was she upset because Sam hadn't sought out her company following those sweet moments the afternoon they picked out a tree? Had he found her to be lacking somehow once she told him she'd never been courted? By allowing him to kiss her the way he did, had she appeared too forward?

"Livvy? What is it? You've gone kind of quiet."

Feeling Sam's arm slide along the back of the pew, she leaned forward unable to accept the solace he so willingly offered. You could be a bride by Christmas. Milly Crenshaw's words bounced around in her head like marbles in a tin bucket. Yet, Christmas was mere hours away and she was no closer to having a husband, a home, and a family than she was back in March. Perhaps she was never meant to.

Thankfully, she was saved from answering when the first notes of O Come All Ye Faithful floated above the congregation. She and Sam rose as one, and although he held the hymnal, the words blurred in front of her eyes. As if in a trance, her lips moved but no words came out, and she took her seat without looking.

" What a blessing those of us get to have this hymn be a part of our celebrations of Christmas," began Pastor Hall. Instead of remaining at the pulpit, he walked among the congregants as the Lord did while giving a sermon.

"These are not just random words; they are words that remind us of the great sacrifice and love of the Lord. We need reminders like this in the world we live in. It is so easy to forget the hope that we have when we are in the middle of everyday life. The hardships and trials of this life can be overwhelming and can cloud our vision if we let it. Thank goodness that at the end of the day, we can take our focus off of our problems and place them on the One who came to save us."

…take our focus off of our problems…place them on the One who came to save us. What exactly were her problems? She could sum it up in two words…Sam Wright…yet he was also a blessing.

Many times, he appeared cordial as if she were just a friend. Other times, he was genial and fun, even flirty at times. Then there were the moments when he'd taken her hand in his, or made romantic gestures, or announced to their friends they were courting, and when he finally kissed her, all but asking her to marry him before he stepped away, treating her like a friend.

What she didn't know, however, was which one would show up at any given time.

Chapter Eight

The raucous sounds coming from the saloon confirmed patrons were celebrating the coming New Year a bit early. Olivia looked up from the dress sleeve she was altering. She imagined Sam and Jess Knowles would be kept busy from now and through the night. As added insurance, it was rumored that Sam had deputized a half dozen men to help patrol the streets.

Unfortunately, she knew what went on in saloons during ordinary days, let alone on a holiday expressly meant to drink to excess. By hiding under the gambling tables, she'd witnessed more drunken brawls, fisticuffs, bruises, cuts, and broken bones than any one person should be allowed. She'd also witnessed the varied injuries that several lawmen received.

Since Thanksgiving when Sam had publicly announced they were courting, doubts about continuing their relationship had struck at odd times. What if she fell even deeper in love with Sam and his feelings changed? What if he only fell in love with her out of pity? What if she lost him to a gambler's knife or an outlaw's bullet?

The doubts kept growing by degrees, so much so that by mid-afternoon, Gus came into the workroom, worry etched across his forehead.

"Do you not like welcoming the new year?"

Olivia shook her head. "It gives everyone license to imbibe too much and act out in a manner they normally wouldn't do on any other day. I've seen families torn apart by reckless behavior all in the name of having a good time. Liquor does things to a man, changes his thinking. I'd hate for any family to lose a husband, father, brother, or son tonight." She sounded like one of those temperance crusaders, but she didn't care. Perhaps that was the reason for her doubts. Perhaps she was afraid of opening her heart to Sam and loving him, only to lose him.

Losing Sam would devastate her.

Gus put a calloused hand over hers. " Trotz all der probleme solltest du immer deine lieben in der n?he halten. Sch?tze jeden moment, " he said in his native tongue. "Even with all the problems, always hold those you love close. Treasure every moment."

The bell above the door jingled and Gus poked his head around the curtain. "I believe your treasure has come."

By the jangle of his spurs, Olivia knew it was Sam even before he pulled the curtain. "Hiya, Livvy," he said in his usual cheerful manner. "I've got to work tonight, but I was wondering if you'd like to get an early supper at the café? Or maybe I'll invite myself to the boardinghouse?"

Olivia snipped the threads on the fabric and shook her head. "Not tonight, Sam. I'm rather tired, and I wouldn't be very good company."

It was the truth. Off on their wedding trip, Aggie and Ed had left the boardinghouse in her care, and between cooking breakfast for the boarders, cleaning the common room, and doing the laundry, then coming to work for Gus, she was worn out. They would be home tomorrow and it couldn't come soon enough for her. Besides, other than an occasional wave from across the street, she hadn't seen Sam since accompanying him to the hotel for Aggie & Ed's wedding celebration. Granted, they'd both been busy, but still…

Sam frowned. "I'm sure Miriam would have something for you. I could ride out there and be back before you finish work."

"No…thank you," she replied quickly, instantly regretting her curt tone. "I'm certain an early bedtime is all I'll need. Be safe out there tonight, Sam." As if dismissing him, she turned back to her sewing machine.

At the slamming of the door, Olivia knew she'd been rude. But it couldn't be helped. She had a decision to make. Either she put aside her fear of something happening to Sam and embrace the life waiting for her or end it with him now.

As the afternoon wore on and the revelry down the street increased, Olivia came to a decision. She would end it with Sam and spare them both further anguish. Admitting she was afraid of falling in love was cowardice. But after she'd spent these last weeks proving to herself she could bounce back from adversity, she couldn't imagine losing it or Sam again. If she married Sam, it seemed to her she'd be giving up her independence, and if something happened to him…

By the time she and Gus exchanged New Year blessings and went their separate ways, a trio of saloon girls—their arms linked to three cowboys—exited the saloon bringing to mind the fate that might have befallen her if not for Sam Wright. Just as she stepped off the boardwalk a volley of gunshots rang out behind her. It was strange to hear gunshots in Cottonwood Falls, still given that it was New Year's Eve and the number of people celebrating, it seemed ominous. Suddenly. a worrisome niggle scurried up her spine halting her trek home.

People started rushing past her. Instead of following them, she continued and was caught like so much flotsam heading upstream.

"Come with me, Olivia!" Peggy Cobb shouted, hugging her purchases to her bosom. "It's not safe out here. Montana Nelson and his brothers are causing a ruckus and now Sam is involved. We'll be safe at Roscoe's store."

Olivia shook off Peggy's arm. Bunching her skirts in one hand, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Wasn't it only a few moments ago she had been adamant about ending things with Sam? Now she couldn't seem to get to him fast enough. She stopped at the alley between the mercantile and the land office, taking shelter behind a rain barrel.

Sam stood in front of the jail. The Nelson brothers and the rest of the gang were in the middle of the street, their mounts dancing beneath them.

"I know it's a night for celebrating, Montana, and I'm not looking for trouble. But the folks in town expect me to keep the peace. That's what I'm aiming to do. So, if you plan on shootin' up, it'd best you leave."

One of the outlaws laughed at Sam outright. From her vantage point, Olivia saw his stained teeth—what were left of them—and shuddered.

"Ain't no lawman gonna tell me what I can do. Me n' the boys jist want to have a drink or two in your saloon to ring in the new year. Nothin' wrong with that, is there, Sheriff?"

Sam shifted his body into a wide-leg stance and Olivia didn't miss the fact that he had one hand on his revolver. Panic seized her heart when he took a step forward. "No. There's nothing wrong in celebrating, but you're not gonna do by shooting up my town. Emporia is a four-hour ride to the East. If you leave now, you'll have plenty of time to whoop it up."

All six outlaws laughed before again shooting a few rounds into the air. "Montana Nelson ain't going nowhere but you are, sheriff," the man said, referring to himself in the third person as he aimed his revolver directly at Sam.

Sam didn't budge at the warning but continued to stare down the half-dozen men. "No, Sam, please, no!" Olivia whispered. Where was Jess? And where were the extra men he deputized just for tonight?

Montana Nelson pulled the trigger. By the grace of the Lord, the bullet missed. Sam whipped out his gun and began firing. Bullets rained down from different positions onto the street. Within minutes, four of the outlaws were down on the ground, and the other two had skedaddled for parts unknown.

Olivia released a relieved sigh as she found Sam, who was still standing. People poured out of the businesses once it was over, shouting for the doctor and the deputies.

She was already running toward Sam when she noticed him leaning against the hitching post. Getting closer, she noticed the dark stain moving down from his shoulder onto his chest. She reached him just as he fell to the ground. "It'll t-take more than a little l-lead ball to keep me d-down," he stuttered before his eyes closed.

A voice Olivia didn't recognize as hers screamed for help, for the doctor, for anyone who could help save Sam's life.

She'd spent most of the day trying to convince herself she wasn't in love with Sam Wright. She was wrong…so wrong.

Now she was about to lose him.

Voices.

Sam felt his body moving upwards through a murky haze while the pain in his shoulder burned with increasing ferocity. He'd seen enough battlefield wounds and shoot-outs to know if he didn't receive some attention soon he'd most likely lose the use of his arm like so many others.

He heard Olivia talking over him but his head was too fuzzy to discern what she was saying. Focusing on his breathing, he felt a sticky wetness spreading across his chest.

Please Lord , he prayed, this is not the ending I wanted. I have so much to live for…

Despite the commotion swirling above him, a quiet calm enveloped Sam as his eyes drifted shut and submitted to the voice that swirled through the pain. " For I know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you…not harm you…"

"Plans to give you hope and a future…" Sam murmured, finishing the verse.

"Open your eyes, Sam Wright. Don't you dare die on me!" He heard the desperation in Livvy's voice and tried to do her bidding.

His eyes fluttered open, and Livvy…his Livvy was there, searching his eyes with concern. With the sun at her back, she looked like an angel sent from heaven to accompany him to the pearly gates. He blinked several times to make sure. When he opened them, she was still there.

"How badly am I hurt?" He knew it wasn't good if he was getting cold. Tremors ran through his body as he waited for an answer.

"You'll be fine, Sam." The tears in her eyes belied her words. Sam knew she was lying. His breathing was becoming shallow and his life blood was flowing out of him with every breath. If this was going to be his final day on earth, he wanted Olivia to know the depth of his feelings for her. "Livvy, I need to tell you something…need to…ask—"

Olivia pressed two fingers to his lips. "Shh. Save your strength, Sam."

He managed to capture her hand, her skin soft beneath his calloused palm. "Please let me say this, Livvy." He took a deep shuddering breath and tried to push past the pain. "It's New Year's Eve. I-I wanted to ask you to marry me. Th-That's why I invited you to supper. I wanted to start the year off right…w-with you as my w-wife."

"And I sent you away." Tears shimmered in her sapphire blue eyes, reminding him of a bag of deep blue marbles…the only present he'd gotten at the orphanage one Christmas. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry."

"I guess I'm not as light on my feet as I used to be. Good thing…I got that ranch…you'll take care of it, won't you, Liv—" His voice trailed off and he battled for every breath, unable to remember being this tired. "I—" he managed to say before his lids drifted closed and his head lolled back.

"I need you, Sam. Don't you dare leave me!" she cried.

The words were lost on Sam. In the silence of dying, he drifted back to the battlefield years ago when he'd fallen. The arms of the nurse who'd stopped to help him circled him and whispered. "You're going to be all right soldier. You're not going to die."

Only this time, Sam knew she was wrong. He'd finally drawn the short card and let the blackness wash over him, carrying him under like a huge wave, and promising him relief from the pain and cold.

Olivia screamed, willing him back from the abyss, just as Pastor Hall went down on his haunches beside her. He gently pressed two fingers into the soft groove on the side of Sam's windpipe. "He's just passed out."

Olivia frantically ripped both ruffles off her petticoat and bandaged Sam trying to slow the bleeding.

"Grab a wagon and blankets and make it quick!" Pastor Hall shouted to a group of onlookers. "And somebody drag Doc Adams over here…now!"

While the volunteers jumped to do the pastor's bidding, Olivia couldn't help but notice Jess Knowles and the interim deputies rounding up the outlaws. While all of them sported a wound of some sort, none of them—ironically—were as seriously wounded as Sam. She knew the reason rested solely with Sam. He always erred on the side of saving a life.

"You're not going to die, Samuel Wright. Do you hear me? You're not going to die."

Blood soaked the strips of cotton that had once been her petticoat. She pulled the bandage tighter, hoping to keep the blood from flowing out the hole in his shoulder. When the men arrived with the wagon, she issued unneeded orders for them to be careful as they lifted him onto the wagon bed. Just as she clambered up next to him, one of the deputies arrived with the doctor in tow.

"I'm taking him to the boardinghouse. You're welcome to come now or meet us there. There's plenty of hot water and blankets."

The doctor nodded and stepped alongside the wagon. "There's isn't much hope…"

Olivia shook her head, refusing to believe him. "You haven't even examined him. Besides, while he is still breathing, there is still hope." The doctor shrugged before he hoisted himself onto the bench.

The moment they pulled up at the boardinghouse, Olivia hiked up her skirts and swung one leg over the side until her foot met with the wheel hub. She swung the other leg over, gave herself a push, and jumped clear of the wagon.

By the time the deputy and a man she didn't know carried Sam inside, she had spread a muslin sheet, a quilt that had seen better days, and finally, an oilcloth over the table. Then she got busy draining the reservoir on the cookstove and pouring the steamy water into a basin, while the men removed Sam's outer clothes, gunbelt, and boots. Blood and dirt seemed to be everywhere.

When Sam's five-point silver star hit the floor, everyone went silent.

Olivia picked it up, brushed away the blood, and placed it in her pocket. "I'll shine it up and keep it safe for the sheriff."

The two men nodded as if she should be the one to keep it safe before they bid her goodbye.

"Get me all the clean rags you can find, Miss Talbot," the doctor ordered while he began cutting away Sam's shirt.

When she returned and dropped the rags next to the basins of hot water she tried to keep her focus on Will's firm jawline and his very kissable bottom lip, but her gaze continued downward to roam over his bare chest dusted with dark hair. Her eyes drifted over his well-defined muscles and broad shoulders. Her heart fluttered gently in her chest. Sam Wright was undeniably a handsome man both in face and form.

"If you're going to stand and gape at the sheriff, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If not, I could use a bit of help here. Are you up to it?"

Olivia didn't know much about bullet wounds but she wasn't about to leave Sam. "I'm staying, doctor. Tell me what you need done."

He handed her a chunk of strong-smelling soap. "Wash your hands then rinse them in that basin. Are you sure you have an adequate supply of water?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes." Surprisingly, having a ready supply of hot water was one of Aggie's unusual quirks.

"Put these in another basin and pour hot water over them," the doctor directed, handing her several instruments before he washed and dried his hands. Following his instructions, she was especially pleased to see his attention to cleanliness.

"Remove that rag, wipe away as much blood as you can then pour this over the wound." Though she prickled at his brusque instructions, she reminded herself he was attempting to save Sam's life.

He handed her a square of toweling, a brown bottle, and a cone-like device, and told her to go to the head of the table near Sam's head. "This is chloroform. It'll put Sam to sleep so he won't feel me poking around his arm."

Quickly obliging, Olivia stood before scooting her chair closer to Sam's head.

"It might be better if you stand, Miss Talbot. "I don't need you inhaling the sedative and falling asleep on me."

She quickly obliged. At the doctor's nod, she put the cone over Sam's nose and mouth then moistened the toweling and placed it against the wire mesh. "Talk to him. If you can, encourage him to breathe deeply."

Olivia tipped her head in acknowledgment. "Sam, the doctor is ready to start. I need you to take a breath…that's it, slow and easy." His grip on her hand loosened by degrees but still, she didn't let go.

The doctor set to work, doing what—she hoped—he knew best. Often, when she and Gus took a brief break, he would tell her about the people in town. From him, she learned Doc Adams had served in the war, doing his job when cannon fire filled the air, when it was so cold the bloody bandages froze on the wounds, and when sleep was only a wish.

As the doctor continued to work, Olivia continued to pray, watching Sam's chest rise and fall with each breath. As long as he was breathing, there was hope, she repeated over and over again. Sam was badly wounded and there was a good chance he wouldn't recover. Her heart clenched. She couldn't lose another person in her life. She couldn't lose Sam before their life had even begun.

Hours ago, she'd feared something like this might have happened. Now, she was faced with losing him before she had a chance to tell him she cared for him.