“I hope you know what you’re doing. Just remember, if you nick my lips, it will be a long while before I can kiss you,” he whispered with a grin before raising the feather to his mouth.
“I always know what I’m doing. Besides, I wouldn’t risk missing out on your kisses.” She left him with a grin and walked to the table where her rifle waited.
She took aim, then shook her head and turned to place her back to the target. She picked up a mirror and carefully leveled her rifle on her shoulder. Gasps were heard throughout the arena, and one woman even shrieked in fear.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I must ask for absolute silence!” Oliver proclaimed. “The life of this poor man is dependent upon it!”
A hush fell over the audience.
Mary smiled. It was always the same.
She glanced at the mirror, adjusted her aim, and then took the shot and ended her performance. She was so confident of her shot that she didn’t even look at Chris as the feather blew apart and floated to the ground. The audience rose to their feet, stomping and clapping and yelling their approval.
Mary gave a bow and then put down her rifle and went to where Chris stood. She raised his hand in hers, and together they took another bow. Chris wrapped his fingers around hers, and instead of letting go once they straightened from their bow, he dropped to one knee and held up a ring box. Mary hadn’t thought it possible that the crowd could cheer any louder, but they did. The sight of Chris proposing to their favorite sharpshooter appealed to one and all.
Mary nodded, and Chris stood and slipped the ring on her finger. Then, to everyone’s approval, he swept her into his arms and dipped her backward.
“Always the showman,” she said, gazing up into his amused expression.
“Hey, we have to give them their money’s worth.”
She laughed, and he kissed her passionately.
“Well, have you ever seen the likes?” Oliver Brookstone announced through his megaphone. “I do believe we have just witnessed an engagement. Miss Mary, come introduce us to your young man.”
Chris finally ended the kiss and straightened. Mary looked at him in wonder. “Your lips seem to be working just fine,” she whispered. He gave her a lopsided grin that sent her heart racing.
She put her hand to her chest and drew a deep breath. Many in the audience roared in laughter at the thought that this amazing sharpshooter should be unnerved by a kiss.
Mary reached for Christopher’s hand and pulled him with her. “Troublemaker.” She grinned back at him as he obediently followed her.
Oliver helped her make the introductions, then announced that the couple would be wed at one of the upcoming shows. “We can’t say where or when, but it will definitely be in the next few weeks during one of our American shows. I’ll see to that!” He put one arm around Mary while still holding the megaphone to his lips. “We have flyers available listing all of our upcoming events, so let all your family and friends know.”
A small orchestra struck up a musical intermission while the arena floor was cleared for the third and final act. Mary gathered her rifle and made her way from the arena with Chris right behind her.
“You two were amazing,” Lizzy declared. “I’m impressed, and I think you left the audience completely enthralled. I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t quite a few proposals made this evening by folks in the crowd. You no doubt inspired them.”
“Aw shucks, weren’t nothin’,” Chris said with a forced drawl.
Mary elbowed him. “Nothing? Proposing to me is nothing?”
He chuckled. “You know better. Do you want me to prove it to you?”
A grin broke across her face. “Maybe later.”
Lizzy laughed. “You two are going to be so happy together.”
Chris put his arm around Mary. “I know we will be. After all, she’s armed. I have to cooperate.”
“Like it would ever be difficult for you to love her,” Lizzy replied. “You two belong together. Unlike two others I know.” Her gaze went to something behind Mary.
Mary turned and saw Amanda and Oliver together. “I agree that she’s most likely after his money, Lizzy, but you have to be careful how you manage yourself, or you’ll just throw them together all the more.”
“I know.” Lizzy’s voice bore her displeasure. “I just wish I could convince Uncle Oliver of her true motives.”
“Pray about it. I’m sure in time God will let the truth be told.”
“Yes, but what will the truth do to Uncle Oliver? I want him to be happy, and I’m afraid when he realizes what she’s really up to, it will kill him.”
At the crew meeting the morning after the engagement, everyone was still highly energized. Ella was particularly excited for Mary and Chris, even though they’d been promised to each other since before the show’s start in March.
“I’m sure you know that the engagement was very well received,” Henry Adler said. “We sold a record number of programs, and I think we’re going to have to start having autograph signings after the shows. People have been asking for that, and I believe Americans in particular are keen on that kind of thing.” His English accent thickened as he hurried his words. “We owe it to our audience to see that they’re happy—after all, they’re spending their hard-earned money to attend our performances, and we need to honor them.”
Ella didn’t mind the idea of signing autographs. She’d done so several times, mostly for love-sick young men who’d cornered her after performances. Of course, there were an equally large number of young girls who wanted to trick ride like she did and asked Ella how they could learn.
“As for the wedding, we’ve chosen Chicago, as most of you know. Oliver and I have decided to throw quite the grand affair. We’re going to have a white buckskin outfit made for Mary. Miss Moore assures me she can arrange that. There will also be attendants’ outfits. We still need to discuss the style and determine the decorative arrangements. The Chicago show will take place in four weeks, so there should be time enough to prepare the outfits, right, Miss Moore?”
Everyone looked to Amanda, who was seated beside Oliver and nodding. “Of course. I’m sure I can have everything ready.”
This surprised Ella. She had been confident Amanda’s days of sewing were over. Ella felt certain Mara would be the one who ended up making the costumes in the end.
After several additional announcements, the meeting finally concluded, and a late supper was announced in the adjoining room. Ella was starved, but she wondered where Phillip was and if he was all right. He’d made himself scarce since she’d put him to bed that night in San Francisco. No doubt he was embarrassed by what he’d said and done.
She made her way to where Wes and Lizzy stood talking in hushed tones. Lizzy smiled at her, but it was clear she was upset.
“Did you hear Amanda?” Lizzy asked. “I swear she’d lie right to God Himself.”
“I did wonder about that. I’ll let Mara know that the responsibility will probably fall on her shoulders.”
“We certainly can’t count on Amanda to honor her word.”
“What was that you said about my word?” Amanda asked, coming up behind Ella and Lizzy.
“I said I don’t believe we can count on it,” Lizzy replied. “I dare you to prove me wrong.”
Amanda gave a harsh laugh and didn’t even try to pretend to be the docile darling she was around Oliver Brookstone. “I’m not interested in your dares. You’re just out of sorts because I intend to marry your uncle.”
“Well, I plan to do whatever I can to see that it never happens,” Lizzy said, moving toward Amanda. Wes held her back.
Amanda was undaunted, however. She pointed her finger in Lizzy’s face. “You need to mind your own business. Your uncle is happy with me. Stay out of it, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
“Meaning what?” Lizzy asked, straining against Wesley’s hold.
“Meaning,” Amanda began, her voice thick with contempt, “that you m
ight lose him forever if you interfere much more. He loves me and intends to marry me. We could just up and disappear after that, and you’d never see him again.”
Lizzy shook her head. “You’ll never separate us. We’re family, and you’re nothing.”
“Sometimes family can be such a bother. I haven’t seen mine in years.” With that, Amanda sashayed off toward the supper room.
“Oooh, I hate her!” Lizzy pulled away from her husband. “I can’t stand her at all.”
“I couldn’t tell,” he said sarcastically.
Lizzy turned to look at him in frustration.
Ella felt sorry for her and reached out to touch her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t let her make you so angry, Lizzy.”
“You heard what she said. She wants to separate my family.”
Ella nodded. “I know. I wonder if Oliver realizes her intent. Maybe you should talk to him about it.”
“Maybe I will.” Lizzy seemed to calm a bit. “Maybe Uncle Oliver doesn’t realize her plans.”
“Maybe he doesn’t care,” Wes said, turning Lizzy to face him. “You know, same as I do, that when a man marries, he’s supposed to cleave to his wife. Lizzy, if Oliver really and truly loves her and they marry—you can’t interfere in what God has joined.”
“They aren’t joined yet,” Lizzy countered. “I won’t be sinning if I try to get Uncle Oliver to see the truth before they marry.” She jerked away and stormed off past the supper room.
Ella frowned and looked at Wes. “She’s really upset. I know she’s afraid that Amanda is just taking him for his money.”
“I know that too,” Wes admitted, “but unless Oliver sees the truth of it and cares enough to do something about it . . . there’s not a whole lot we can do.”
She knew he was right, but it didn’t help. It was the same with Phillip. Until he cared enough to do something about his drinking, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do to stop him.
“I know you’re worried about her,” Wes said.
Ella looked up and smiled. “I actually wasn’t thinking about Lizzy just then. I’m worried about Phillip.”
Wes nodded. “So am I.” His voice took on a level of concern that only deepened Ella’s own apprehension.
“I tried to encourage him to talk to you.” She didn’t want to say too much. She’d never betray Phillip’s confidence, but it was important to let Wes know that she was trying to do the right thing.
“God knows I’ve tried to get him to talk. He’s all bottled up inside. He’s always been that way. Always kept things close to the vest, didn’t want folks to know too much or get too close.”
“I . . . I care about him, Wes.”
He smiled down at her. “I know. And I know he’s smitten with you. If anyone can help him make a new start, I think it’s you. But I have to warn you that you can’t love him into changing. He has to want it for himself, and he’s most likely going to have a rough go of it. He’s been drinking since he was a young man.”
“Yes, he told me. I’ve prayed for him and tried to share the Bible with him, but he has a lot of . . . memories that still hurt him. I think he feels that God deserted him.”
“Most folks feel like that at one point or another, but Phillip has gotten stuck in that place. He feels alone and unloved, yet here we all are, just waiting for him to see how much we do love him. Sometimes I feel that I’ve failed as a big brother.”
Ella shrugged. “I suppose everyone fails everyone in some way. I don’t think we can be responsible for the expectations others put on us. After all, they’re the one assigning them, and if we fail to live up to them, how is that our fault?”
“You make a good point, but probably not in the way you intended. Makes me realize that my expectations of Phillip are just that. Mine. It’s not fair for me to hold a grudge or grievance if my brother fails to live up to my standards and expectations.”
“It’s true. I guess we just need to find ways to make him realize his value so that he’ll want to strive for a better way. Not for our sake, but his.”
Wesley nodded and offered Ella his arm. “I think you’re a very wise young woman, Miss Ella Fleming. I don’t know about you, however, but I’m famished.”
She grinned. “I don’t know that I’m wise, but I am hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”
seven
When Ella woke the following morning, Phillip was the first thing on her mind. She heard Mara humming a tune across the room and sat up to find her friend ironing.
“Where in the world did you find an iron?” Ella asked. “I had to send things to our laundry girls to get them pressed before.”
“I borrowed the iron and the board from one of the hotel maids. They said they has a laundry here in the hotel. I didn’t figure it made sense to pay someone else to do it, and I didn’t feel like makin’ my way with a basket of fresh wash all the way to the train station.”
Stretching, Ella smiled. “There’s times when I prefer living on the train. Everything is only a few steps away. It might be in another car, but it’s all connected, and we’re just one big happy family.”
“Oh, I nearly forgot. This message came for you this morning.” Mara fished an envelope from her pocket.
Ella took it and looked at the writing. It was Phillip’s. She quickly tore open the envelope and read the missive.
Need your help. I’m in the city jail.
“When did this come?” Ella glanced around for a clock. “What time is it?”
“Jes’ about seven thirty.”
“That it came, or is that the time?” Ella tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed. Without any concern about propriety, she began throwing off her nightclothes.
“That’s when it come,” Mara declared. “What are you doin’?”
“I have to help Phillip, but you can’t say anything about it. He’s in jail and, well, it’s not the first time I’ve had to rescue him.” She started tearing through the wardrobe. “I’ll just wear my practice clothes—if I can find them. Where did I put them?”
“I washed them and been ironing the blouse. The skirt be hangin’ up in the washroom. I ’spect it’s near to dry. I washed it last night.”
Ella made a dash for the bathing room. Her well-worn brown skirt was hanging from a hook on the back of the door. She grabbed it and pulled it on. She managed to locate her stockings, which Mara had also washed, and donned those as well.
“What time is it?”
“Eight fifteen. Ain’t been that long, Ella. ’Sides, if that boy got himself thrown in jail, it won’t hurt him a bit to sit and think about what he done.”
“He drank too much. And unfortunately, he spends a lot of time thinking about that.”
Ella finished dressing and headed for the door. “If anyone is looking for me, just tell them I had to go out and I’ll be back shortly.”
Mara nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want me comin’ with you?” She handed Ella her purse. “You might be needin’ this. Sometimes there’s a price to pay.”
Ella nodded. “There always is. As for you coming with me, I think it’s best you stay here. If Father or Jefferson sent someone to find you, we’d be hard-pressed to fight them off by ourselves.”
“I ’spect you’re right on that account.” Mara shook her head.
Downstairs, a hotel doorman hailed a cab, then assisted Ella into it. He offered to instruct the driver, but Ella dismissed him. She didn’t want anyone to be able to ask the doorman for her destination.
The driver turned and looked down at her with a curious gaze. “Where to, miss?”
She gave him the address that had been on the stationery, then sat back to observe Denver. The entire time, however, her mind was on Phillip. What could she do to help him? How could she make him see that liquor would never take away his pain and sadness? She had prayed so much that he might see the truth, so why wasn’t it happening? Was God not moved by her prayers? Didn’t He care about Phillip’s loss and the pain he�
�d endured? Didn’t He see that Phillip was remorseful?
The cab stopped in front of a large brick building. “Here we are, miss.”
Ella waited for the driver to assist her from the carriage. She handed him a dollar. “Please wait for me.”
He tipped his hat. “Of course.”
She glanced again at the building and then nodded to no one in particular. The city’s jail was large and busy. She was used to helping Phillip in smaller venues, so this experience was rather intimidating.
“I’ve come,” she told the clerk, “to retrieve Phillip DeShazer. I believe he was most likely brought in drunk and disorderly.”
The officer looked her over and nodded. He called to another uniformed man, “Mrs. DeShazer is here to get her husband.”
“He’s with the others waiting for the judge to pass sentence,” the second officer declared. He looked at Ella. “If you want to wait over here, Mrs. DeShazer, we should know the outcome shortly.”
Ella didn’t bother to correct him. She feared if she told him she wasn’t Phillip’s wife, he might not allow her to take him from the jail.
An eternity seemed to pass before Phillip was finally brought to the desk. He gave her a sheepish nod, then waited as she paid his fine. Apparently he and another man had been brawling in the street. Phillip had been caught, while the other man escaped. No damage was done to any public structures, so the charges were minimal.
They made their way outside, and the bright sunshine caused Phillip to wince. He raised the coat he carried to block the light.
Ella took his arm. “If you need to close your eyes, just do so.”
“I’m fine. Sorry about this.”
Ella was glad she’d asked the driver to wait. He was still there and actually climbed down to help them get into the carriage.
“Back to the hotel?” he asked.
“Yes. Perhaps just drop us off down the block, and we’ll walk the rest of the way.” She looked at Phillip as they settled into the carriage. “Better put your coat on and button it up so no one can see your torn shirt.”
What Comes My Way Page 6