Laurie Kingery

“C-c-cold,” she muttered when the sound of his footsteps caused her to open one eye a trifle wider. “Tell N-Nolan…sorry.” She doesn’t even recognize me. “I am Nolan, sweetheart,” he said, “and you have nothing to apologize for. I’m going to take good care of you,” he told her, leaning down close so she could see him. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart,” he promised, though he had no idea if he was telling the truth or not.”
― Laurie Kingery, The Doctor Takes a Wife

“Is this man bothering you, sweetheart?” Nolan said, coming forward and placing a proprietary hand on her shoulder. Sarah half turned and jumped, clearly startled. “Nolan! I’m glad you’re here. Please, just take me home.” Her face was flushed dully red with misery as she reached for his arm and took hold of it. He looked down into her eyes, hoping she read the love in them. “Of course.” Then he looked back at Holt, making sure the man wasn’t going for a gun. He wasn’t, but if looks could kill, Nolan knew he would have been sprawled on the floor. Clearly conscious of his enthralled audience, Holt’s face screwed itself into a mask of scorn as he looked him up and down. “This is the fellow you left me for? This Yankee swell in a frock coat? How could you, Sarah? Your ma an’ pa must be rollin’ in their graves, knowin’ their daughter’s cozy with a Yankee.” “That’s enough,” Nolan snapped. “The lady’s leaving, and you’re not to bother her further.” Holt cocked his head and drawled, “I declare, he talks funny.” A few of the onlookers chuckled. Nolan clenched his fists, but Sarah’s hand tightened on his wrist. “Please, let’s just go.” They turned and started for the door, but Holt wasn’t done. “You’ll be sorry, Sarah! This whole town’s gonna be sorry you threw me over!”
― Laurie Kingery, The Doctor Takes a Wife