Gunsmoke and Gingham Read online

  Nathan guided Ori over to a seat and made sure she was comfortable, then asked Mrs. Owens to dance. He would much rather have spent the whole evening with the beautiful Miss Britt, but that would certainly start tongues wagging.

  When he glanced Ori’s way again, he saw her talking earnestly with Dr. Wayment, and she held a small glass in her hand. It looked like whiskey, but he’d never known her to drink, and he wasn’t aware that they were serving whiskey at this event. Curious.

  She tipped the glass back and took a swallow, then shuddered. Nathan chuckled at her reaction—yes, she definitely was not a drinker.

  A moment later, Mr. Brody stood up at the front of the room and held up both hands. When he had everyone’s attention, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this evening. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  Applause broke out, and he smiled until it died down again. “I’m thrilled beyond words to announce that we have a special treat tonight. We are honored here in Topeka to have living among us Miss Orinda Lou Britt, who graced stages all over the United States and Europe with her incomparable singing voice. Tonight, she has agreed to perform for us.”

  Murmurs sounded around the room, along with some surprised gasps. None were more surprised than Nathan, who was also elated. He’d only heard her sing once, just a few lines of one song, and he’d longed to hear her again ever since.

  Ori came to the front of the room and curtsied as everyone clapped. Then she turned and chatted with the violinists for a moment before turning back to the crowd.

  “The last opera I performed before my retirement was La Traviata,” she said in her soft voice. “Your fine musicians here are familiar with the piece, and so I will sing for you the aria sung by Violetta, the character I portrayed.”

  Nathan stood completely transfixed as the music started. He watched as Ori straightened her shoulders and took on the role of the prima donna opera singer she was. At first, her voice was low, seemingly unsure, but then she flung her head high and lifted the notes to the ceiling. It was simply the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life. Chills ran down his arms and up into his scalp, and he was sure that every strand of his hair was on fire.

  Every note was sure. Every trill was perfect. Every gesture, every facial expression was magic. When she brought the song to an end, the room was still for several seconds, and then the applause was like nothing he’d ever heard before. It pounded in his ears and caused his head to ache.

  Ori took several bows, then rose again, and it was only then that he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. She moved to the side of the room where Dr. Wayment was waiting for her, holding another small glass, and she drank down the contents. Then she slipped out the side door of the building.

  Nathan couldn’t get through the throng of people, so he turned and made his way out the front door, then walked around the hotel until he found her. She was standing on the side veranda, hugging herself, the tears continuing to flow.

  “Ori,” he said as he approached her, “that was . . . that was the most incredible, magical thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  She shook her head, and he could see that she was shivering. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What’s the matter?” he asked after a long moment, his hands still resting on her arms.

  “I can’t explain it,” she whispered. “Oh, Nathan, I miss it so much.”

  She turned into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder. He willingly held her, glad there was some way he could be there for her even though he had no real idea what else to do. She smelled like vanilla and roses, a heady, yet delicate combination, and he wondered if it was a perfume he could buy so he could take her scent with him when he traveled.

  She also smelled like two shots of whiskey.

  “I thought that if I moved away from the big city and came to an entirely new place, I’d be content, but the memories haunt me sometimes.” She took a step away and sat down on a small bench nearby. He sat next to her and took her hand, wanting to maintain the contact she’d broken. “It’s so hard to give it up, and without my choice.”

  “I imagine that it is,” he said. He knew all too well what it was like when someone else made your decisions for you, but he was free now, and she was not. “Is that . . . is that why you drank the whiskey?”

  “What?” She turned and looked at him with her brow raised, then started to laugh. “Nathan Perry, what do you take me for?”

  “Well, sometimes people need a little extra courage to do something hard . . .” Heat flooded his cheeks, and it was suddenly very difficult to find words. “It’s not uncommon, really.”

  She was still laughing. “No, no. You misunderstood. Usually when I perform, I have advance notice, and I take several days to prepare. Tonight’s invitation was spur of the moment, and I asked Dr. Wayment for advice. He suggested the whiskey to relax my vocal chords and hopefully damage them less. Each time I sing, I put horrible strain on them, and it’s always a risk.”

  “And yet you do it anyway?” He was amazed.

  “I have to.” She squeezed his hand. “Giving it up entirely would be worse than losing a limb.”

  He could believe that, with the way he’d just heard her sing. She’d brought heaven down and caused it to touch earth. To have that kind of talent, but not be able to use it . . .

  “I’m honored that I was here to witness it,” he told her.

  “And now I’m completely exhausted and would like to go home. Will you take me?” she asked.

  “Of course I will,” he replied. He hated to see the night come to an end, but what better capstone than a walk in the moonlight on this perfectly mild night?

  He stood and held out his arm, and she took it as she rose. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, and they stepped off the porch together.

  They had just reached the gate in the fence when Alexandra Evans met them. “I hope I haven’t missed the fun,” she said. “I was . . . held up.”

  “Good evening,” Nathan said. “I’m sorry to say that you missed a wonderful performance by Miss Britt, but the party is still going strong.”

  “I’m sorry to have missed it.” Alexandra looked at him curiously, and Ori hurried to introduce them.

  “Pleasure, Miss Evans,” Nathan said, touching the brim of his hat.

  “Nathan Perry.” Alexandra studied him. “Have we met before? You seem familiar to me.”

  “I don’t believe so,” he replied. “I travel almost constantly. If you’ve taken any trains recently, you might have seen me.”

  “Hmm. I don’t think that’s it. Well, at any rate, it’s good to meet you now, and I’ll let you go. Have a nice evening.” She gave each of them a nod and slipped past them up the walk and toward the hotel.

  “She seems like a nice lady,” Nathan said as they resumed their walk. Now that he and Ori were away from the hotel, they were truly alone, and he suddenly felt awkward. What if he couldn’t find the words for what he needed to say? He’d never been a great orator.

  “She is.” Ori slid her arm through his again, and he squeezed her hand where it lay on his arm. He’d be content to walk like this for any number of hours.

  They left Main Street and turned down a side road. A dog in the yard of a nearby house barked at them, but quieted when Nathan told him hello.

  “Ori, may I speak with you about something?” he asked as they drew near to her house. He was running out of time—once they reached her porch, the gentlemanly thing to do was to tell her goodnight and leave.

  “Is it happy or sad?”

  “It’s rather sad, but it has a happy ending. Or rather, I hope it has a happy ending,” he replied.

  She didn’t answer for a moment. “What if you tell me tomorrow?” she said at last. “Tonight has been rather hard for me, and I’m just not up to more sad things right now. Is that awful of me?”

  “No, of course not,” he said, although he was bitterly disappointed. He wa
nted to tell her everything and see if she could possibly find her way clear to forgive him, but he had to respect her wishes. Of course she’d need to rest after everything she’d just been through. He imagined she might even be a little tipsy after that whiskey, and now might not be the best time for this talk anyway.

  “Plan to have lunch with me tomorrow instead of eating at the hotel, and we’ll talk then, all right?”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  They reached her porch and he saw her safely inside, then said goodnight and walked away. It had been a wonderful evening, but it had certainly ended differently than he’d wanted.

  Chapter 7

  Frantic pounding on Orinda Lou’s front door woke her the next morning while the sky was still gray. She couldn’t imagine who could be making such a racket—unless it was Kristin, and something was horribly wrong. She threw on her robe and ran for the door, peeking through the window to make sure there wasn’t a man on the other side who would catch her looking indecent. It was Alexandra Evans.

  She opened the door wide, perplexed. “Alexandra, please come in. What’s the matter?”

  Alexandra came inside, her breathing labored. “Oh, Ori, we need to talk.”

  “Can I get you some coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee, please.”

  She settled herself at the kitchen table and waited while Orinda Lou got the kettle on the stove. Once Orinda Lou was seated as well, she said, “I need to talk to you about Nathan Perry.”

  Orinda Lou was startled to see so much worry on her friend’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  “You recall that I said I’d seen him before.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, it bothered me that I couldn’t remember, and I couldn’t sleep. That’s one of my little oddities—I have a very good memory, and so when something escapes me, no matter how trivial, I have to figure it out.”

  “And what did you figure out?” Orinda Lou prompted when Alexandra didn’t continue right away.

  “I recalled where I’d seen him before. It was at a bank in Kansas City.”

  Orinda Lou nodded. “Was he making a deposit? Opening an account?” She couldn’t imagine why Alexandra was so perturbed.

  “No. He was . . . he was on a wanted poster, Ori.”

  Orinda Lou couldn’t breathe for a moment. She stood and took the kettle off the stove, not even thinking to check the temperature, and made the coffee. Then she poured them each a cup and sat back down. She didn’t know what to think—her brain was numb.

  “A wanted poster?” she said at last.

  Alexandra nodded. “I don’t remember what he was wanted for, though. I didn’t read the poster that carefully. I just saw the picture and the name.”

  “How long ago did you see this poster?”

  Alexandra looked thoughtful. “This was about a year ago—no, a year and a couple of months. I was closing out my account and preparing to move.”

  Orinda Lou lifted her cup to her lips and took a swallow of the lukewarm liquid. It was horrible. “I’m sorry. I should have left the kettle on longer.”

  “It’s all right. I understand. And this way, we won’t burn our tongues.” Alexandra seemed to know that her joke had fallen flat as she immediately became serious again. “I’m so sorry, Ori, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Oh, I absolutely want to know. And I want to get this matter cleared up. Thank you for telling me.”

  Alexandra stood. “I’ll let you get back to your morning. I’m sorry to wake you, but I felt I should tell you as soon as possible.”

  “You did the right thing. Thank you.”

  Orinda Lou saw Alexandra out, then returned to her bedroom to change. She’d gone to sleep the night before full of so many emotions—elation from the music, tenderness from spending time with Nathan, a heady sense of wonder from being in his arms. Now she didn’t know what to think or feel.

  One thing she did know, though, was that she needed some answers before she did one thing about this.

  Orinda Lou let Nathan into the house half an hour later and told him she’d be back, then she put on her hat and gloves and walked over to the marshal’s office.

  Colonel Gordon came to his feet when she entered. “Miss Britt, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you today?”

  She clutched the handle of her reticule a little tighter. “Hello, Colonel. I hope you can give me some information about a wanted poster that was circulated about a year and a half ago.”

  “Well, that’s an unusual request, but I’ll see what I can do. Have a seat and tell me the particulars.”

  She took the offered chair and pulled in a deep breath. “Apparently, a man named Nathan Perry was the subject of a wanted poster hung in the Kansas City bank during that time. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Hmm. That name does sound familiar. Hold on a minute there.” The colonel rose, walked over to a tall set of drawers in the corner, and pawed through a stack of papers in one of the drawers. “Ah, yes. Here we go,” he said after quite a delay. He carried a wanted poster over to his desk and spread it out. It was Nathan, no doubt about it, and Orinda Lou’s breath caught in her chest.

  “I have a note here scribbled on the side, though,” the colonel continued. “I remember now. We received the poster, but right afterwards, we were told he’d been apprehended, so we never hung it up.”

  “I see,” Orinda Lou replied, her soft voice even more of a whisper. “It says here that he participated in a bank robbery.”

  “Sure enough, it does.” Colonel Gordon blinked. “Wait a minute. Didn’t I see him at the hotel last night, dancing with you? What in the blazes is he doing in Topeka?”

  “I really have no idea,” she replied. “But he’s in my parlor right now, tuning my piano.”

  Colonel Gordon came to his feet in a flash. “I’m on my way and will have him behind bars before you can think twice about it.”

  “Please, wait.” Orinda Lou held up a hand. “There has to be an explanation for this, Colonel. If he was an escapee, why would he return to his former life? He’d be in Canada or some such place by now, wouldn’t he?”

  “True.” The colonel paused. “Let me send a telegram to Kansas City and see what I can find out, all right? And in the meantime, don’t go home, Miss Britt. Don’t put yourself in a dangerous position.”

  “But I have to talk to him. I need to find out . . . I just need to talk to him.”

  The colonel looked at her with shrewd eyes. “Stolen your heart as well as some money, eh? Those are the most dangerous kinds of men, in my opinion.”

  “I . . . I don’t know if he’s stolen my heart. I just need to talk to him.” Her hands were shaking. This was all too impossible to be real. A bank robber? Nathan?

  “What if I send a deputy along with you back to your house and you can have this little conversation you’re so determined to have? Then he can bring in this Mr. Perry and we’ll keep a close watch on him until I hear back from Kansas City. With any luck, they’ll respond quickly, and we’ll know what to do from there.”

  Orinda Lou nodded. “That seems fair.”

  “Then let’s do it.” He strode across the room and stuck his head through the doorway. “Deputy Hayes, you’re needed.”

  Hayes, a tall, lanky young man Orinda Lou had often seen on patrol around town, ambled out into the main office. “Yes, sir?”

  “Escort Miss Britt home, stand by while she interrogates a suspect, and then bring that suspect in when she’s done,” the colonel directed.

  Hayes looked confused. “She’s going to conduct the interrogation, sir? Isn’t that against policy?”

  The colonel laughed. “Any time you want someone good and interrogated, son, let a woman do it. They’ll not only ask all the right questions, but they’ll apply the emotional pressure too. Confessions will fly, my boy.”

  Chapter 8

  Nathan guided the wire back across the bridge and fastened it to the tu
ning pin, which he then tapped into place with his hammer. He was three-quarters done with the strings, and then he would begin the meticulous process of tuning them. It wasn’t easy, and it often required several minutes of tiny little adjustments on each peg to make it perfect, but the end result was always worth the effort.

  Plus, it was more time he could spend with Ori.

  He straightened when he heard the front door open. “I’m making good progress,” he called out. “Come and see how much I got done while you were gone.”

  She entered the parlor, followed closely by a deputy marshal in uniform.

  Nathan’s arm dropped to the side, and his hammer dangled from his fingers. He set it down before it fell and then turned back to the newcomers. “Hello,” he said to the deputy.

  “Hello, Mr. Perry,” the young man replied.

  “Nathan, I need to talk to you,” Ori said. Her face was as pale as he’d ever seen on a person before. “Can we all sit?”

  Nathan took one of the chairs, the deputy took another, and Ori lowered herself to the edge of the sofa. She seemed unable to relax.

  “Nathan, is it true that you were wanted for robbing a bank?”

  Oh, no. No. She’d somehow found out before he could tell her himself. If only she’d let him speak the night before. Or maybe he should have insisted, but that certainly wouldn’t have made her more receptive. Well, it was time now. He just wished they didn’t have a deputy for an audience.

  “Yes, it’s true,” he replied. “May I please tell you the whole story?”

  She pressed her lips together and looked away, but not before he saw tears spring into her eyes. He’d never meant to hurt her this way—he couldn’t bear seeing her upset. “Yes, you may tell me,” she said. “But I want the entire truth.”

  “Of course,” he replied. He shifted on the chair, praying he would be able to convince her of the reality of his words. “I was passing through town and I needed to exchange some money. I don’t like carrying large bills because of thieves and whatnot who look for people with large bills in their wallets, and a customer had paid me in just that way. So I was at the bank to exchange what I had for smaller denominations. I was getting back on the train within a matter of minutes.