Wildblossom

by Wright, Cynthia

  "People won't put up with it anymore," muttered one North Fork rancher. "I'm thinkin' of running an ad in the Enterprise, with a promise to kill any man I catch on my land. Maybe if we keep the heat on Marshal Burns, and he keeps on arrestin' the criminals, they'll quit completely."

  "What's happened to Deputy Ted?" Geoff asked casually.

  The man snorted and paused in the midst of licking a cigarette paper. "People started sayin' things about him, and he left town. I heard he went to Sheridan. Good riddance, I say. Now if his sour-faced cousin'd leave, too, we'd all be better off."

  Ironically, Geoff saw Bart Croll when he emerged from the saloon. He and Vivian were loading boxes onto the back of their rickety buckboard, and Bart abruptly shouted something at his wife in a voice so shrill that it carried down the block to Geoff. The Cody Trading Company had been his destination anyway, so he quickened his pace, arriving just in time to see Croll grab Vivian by the arm and twist her around to face him.

  "You silly idiot! What were you thinkin', setting that box down on my finger? Do you think you can get away with it just because we're in public?" His eyes blazed like hot coals.

  "Croll, unhand the lady." Geoff had come up behind him, quietly, and spoke in a cold, vaguely menacing voice. "You're hurting her—and frightening her—and I won't have it."

  "Oh, you won't, won't you?" Oozing sarcasm, the older man dropped Vivian's arm only because he'd shifted his attention to Geoff. "And how come you got this sudden interest in my wife, Limey?"

  "I'm interested in helping anyone who is being mistreated." He noticed then that the gray puppy adopted by Vivian was sitting on the buckboard seat, staring worriedly at Bart. Geoff reached out to pet him even as he continued the confrontation with Croll. "Your wife is a fine lady, and I won't stand by and watch you browbeat her."

  "A lady? Geez-us, have you got that wrong!" The old man sneered. "Nothin' you kin do about it, anyway. She's my wife."

  Viv took that opportunity to clamber into the buck-board and take Willy onto her lap, her hands trembling all the while.

  "People don't own one another," Geoff said coolly. "Furthermore, I think, in view of your cousin's departure from the marshal's office, there are numerous actions I could take against you. If you're wise, you won't force me to make that decision." With those ominous parting words, Geoff took in Viv's grateful look, turned away and went into the Cody Trading Company. Not until he was well inside and shielded by a display case did he venture to look around a corner at his nemesis and watch as Bart Croll climb up beside his wife. Whatever words he spoke were rewarded by a tentative smile from the beleaguered woman.

  "Somebody ought to put that vermin out of his misery," a voice said at Geoff's shoulder.

  He glanced around to find Jakie Schwoob watching the couple in the buckboard and shaking his head. "If it were just Croll, I might be able to tolerate him, but my heart goes out to his wife," Geoff replied. "She's a lovely woman."

  "I know." Jakie sighed heavily, then turned away to watch another customer. "It's a sad business. Oh, by the way, I have something to show you."

  Geoff gathered the supplies on Cookie's list, had them boxed to load beside the disk harrow, then sought out Schwoob. "All right, you've piqued my curiosity. What's the surprise?"

  Schwoob left the other customer to choose among several packages of buttons, and led Geoff to the back of the big store. "First, I have a new record for you. I hear it's all the rage in the East—called 'In the Good Old Summertime'! Shelby will love it."

  Smiling in spite of the pang he felt, remembering, Geoff accepted the record, then inclined his head. "And secondly?"

  Jakie threw open the door to his storeroom, illuminating five new bicycles lined along one wall. He gestured with a flourish. "Aren't they handsome? The finest models in production today; they're called the Napoleon and Josephine bicycles!" He was beaming from ear to ear.

  Geoff listened to the sales speech about the bicycles' nickel-jointed construction, the double-tube pneumatic tires with piano wire spokes, and the latest 1902 design frame, forks, and sprocket. The Napoleon model was painted black, and the Josephine had a maroon finish. Finally, when he couldn't bear another word, Geoff interrupted. "Save your breath, Jakie. I'll take them both."

  "You will? Shelby'll love them! They're only sixteen dollars a piece."

  They started back into the store, and Geoff began to list some other items he wanted Schwoob to order for the ranch. Cookie was longing for a fancy butter churn, and Geoff had decided to purchase an assortment of other ranch equipment... and a piano. "I noticed Shelby looking at the pianos in the Sears Wishbook," he explained. "I wrote down the one I'd like, based on those."

  "Seems like you're pretty smitten with that girl. Takes a good man to look past her rambunctious ways and see the lady underneath...."

  "Not at all. I liked her immediately, precisely because she is not like all the other ladies."

  Standing at the counter and adding up Geoff's purchases, Schwoob glanced up. "Really! Do you think your kin in England would feel the same way?"

  "We'll never know, I'm afraid. Shelby is adamant about her freedom, and staying on the Sunshine Ranch, and who can blame her? I, on the other hand, was born to a more restrictive life. Beyond one brief escape like this year in Wyoming, I'm not able to choose my fate the way Shelby can." He arched an eyebrow and smiled. "Life is not always fair."

  This was a situation Jakie Schwoob didn't understand, so he fell silent, totaling the day's purchases and writing up an order for the upright parlor grand piano. Meanwhile, a pretty young female customer sidled up next to Geoff and gave him a smile that could only be categorized as suggestive.

  "How do you do, sir?" she murmured, allowing her breast to brush his arm. "Will you think me terribly bold if I confess that I overheard a few of your remarks about your ill-fated romance?"

  Amusement played over Geoff's mouth. "Have we met, miss?"

  "My name is Etta Feeley." Her smile widened knowingly, and she almost seemed to wink while looking him over with highly appreciative eyes. "My friends and I have been dying to ask you to visit us, your lordship."

  "I'm just Geoffrey Weston," he corrected her, and accepted her outstretched, perfumed hand for only a moment. "I must tell you in all candor that I cannot accept your invitation, but it's kind of you to ask."

  Jakie Schwoob gave his friend a wild look to remind him that Etta Feeley was the town's principal madame. Then he said to her, "Miss Feeley, I can't have you making those invitations in my store. When you come in here, you have to be... discreet."

  Abashed, Etta colored and replied, "Why, I thought I was being discreet!"

  Geoff couldn't help laughing at that, and Jakie soon joined in, in spite of himself. Etta Feeley was a good sport and didn't take offense.

  * * *

  At six-thirty the sun was still hot overhead, and the ranch hands went back outside to work when supper was finished. Now that the roundup was officially over, everyone was concentrating on the new barn and their fledgling crops.

  Shelby went to her bedroom for a bath, glad for Cookie's help in the kitchen and her own freedom from domesticity. Even Manypenny seemed to be enjoying his new life on the ranch now that he was fully recovered from his illness. He had made no attempt whatever to take up his old servile routine again, and Geoff never complained. Manypenny now spent most of his waking hours rocking on the veranda, reading, dozing, and admiring the dramatic landscape.

  Shelby pumped water for her bath at the kitchen sink and was carrying in the last bucketful when she encountered Manypenny in the hallway. He was coming out of his bedroom with a copy of The Red Badge of Courage, tieless and very nearly relaxed. "It's a perfect summer evening, don't you think?" she murmured with a smile.

  "Indeed it is. I never expected to become so fond of Wyoming... or this ranch," he confessed.

  In her big bedroom, Shelby put her new folding bathtub to good use. It featured a built-in heater for the water, and she had
spent many a contented hour soaking away the dust and exhaustion of the day's work.

  A clock in another part of the house struck seven, rousing her, and she emerged from the tub, wrapping herself in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. She had just slipped into a fresh blouse when she heard a knock at her window. At first Shelby thought she was hearing things—or perhaps it was a jay, breaking open a seed. But when the sound came again, she hurriedly pulled on a pair of denim pants and drew back the curtain.

  There was Geoff, balancing on a shiny new bicycle, waving to her. "Come out for a ride," he called.

  How irresistible he was, eyes twinkling, the sleeves of his pin-striped shirt rolled up, his Stetson replaced by a straw boater set at a jaunty angle. And Shelby couldn't resist. She didn't allow herself to even think, but finished dressing and quickly pinned her damp hair atop her head before dashing through the house to meet him. Manypenny watched with a dubious smile as Shelby emerged onto the veranda and saw the gramophone perched on the top step. Round and round went the new record while a tenor voice sang, "In the good old summertime, in the good old summertime... Strolling through the shady lanes with your baby mine..."

  It was like a dream. Geoff steadied the bicycle with one foot on the ground and extended his arms to welcome her. Shelby had no qualms about sitting between his legs, sidesaddle on the bar, and if Manypenny hadn't been watching from the veranda, she might have turned her face up to his for more than a smile.

  When they set off, the bicycle wobbled precariously, and Shelby's laughter was music to Geoff's ears. Gradually, as they gained speed and the threat of toppling over at any moment passed, Geoff let go of the handlebars with one hand and wrapped it around her little waist.

  It came to him then how much existed between them, not just this potent attraction, but a deep friendship, too. Just the sensation of her body against his, as she had been the night they'd ridden Charlie home from the rustling adventure, was profoundly satisfying. Her damp hair was scented from her bath, and her ear and neck were alluringly moist when his face touched her there.

  The last strains of the song came to them from the veranda: "You hold her hand and she holds yours, and that's a very good sign... That she'll be your tootsie wootsie in the good old summer-time!" They rolled down the lane to the valley road, passed under the crude wooden arch that bore a carving of the Sunshine Ranch brand, and turned south, following a row of quaking aspen.

  "I surmise that 'tootsie wootsie' is an American endearment," Geoff remarked at length with wry amusement.

  "Well, perhaps it comes from New York," she allowed with a straight face. Then, unable to restrain herself, Shelby added, "This bicycle is just splendid. How do you hatch these ideas?" All the unspoken difficulties that had stood between them in recent weeks were swept away on the warm evening breeze.

  "Jakie Schwoob suggested it...." His cheek rested against her hair. "Would you be angry if I told you that I actually bought you your own ladies' bicycle... but I gave it away on a whim?"

  "To Vivian Croll?"

  "You and I think alike." Geoff steered the front tire around a rock, then related the story of his confrontation with Bart Croll that day. "I think I must have been having some sort of heat stroke during the trip back here, because it suddenly came to me that Vivian should have a bicycle—that perhaps it might bring her some pleasure. The idea that we might somehow help her to smile is hard to resist."

  "I certainly don't mind riding a man's bicycle—and I hope you're right about Vivian. Maybe I'll send a note to ask if she wants to practice with me." She fell silent for a bit then, and they both soaked up their own pleasure. There was something mysteriously thrilling about the way he balanced her on the bicycle bar, his long-muscled equestrian's legs pumping smoothly so that she no longer feared they might tip over. "Do you know, I've never ridden a bicycle before! I've always wanted to, but Deadwood is built on the walls of a canyon, and my family's house is on a street that goes nearly straight up and down."

  "I'm glad, then, that this bicycle turned up for us. You and I both needed a bit of fun. And we needed to laugh... together." When they were a mile or more down the road, well out of sight of the ranch house and corral, Geoff let the bicycle coast for a bit, gradually dropping his feet down for balance.

  They came to a standstill, and Shelby leaned back into the familiar contours of his chest, her eyes closed against a wave of bittersweet happiness. He wrapped his arms around her. It was good to feel the thin cotton of her blouse and the warm, firm flesh of her upper arms.

  "I've been missing you, scamp."

  His tender tone made her heart tighten. Turning, Shelby let her upper body meld with Geoff's, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the hard strength of his shoulder, breathing in his mixture of London and Wyoming scents. Words failed her.

  Geoff's hands traveled over her back as if committing her to memory. Through the fabric of Shelby's blouse, he discerned a delicately ribbed undergarment identical to the one she'd worn to bed with him. He wanted to cup her breasts again, to kiss them, to feel her nipples pucker against his tongue. Instead he settled for tipping her face up and searching her eyes.

  Shelby reached to touch his hair, agleam in the gathering twilight, and the side of his jaw. "I've missed you, too."

  His body urged him to put the bicycle down and lead her into a grove of trees. Something more powerful than passion gripped him so intensely he could taste it. Yet, he had to rein himself in or Shelby would never trust him to be alone with her again. He forced himself to be gentle, to cradle her in his arms and kiss her with measured restraint.

  But she felt the chemistry, too, and opened her mouth with a muffled groan. Her breasts tingled; a slow flush spread over her body. However, she wasn't so enthralled that she couldn't sense that Geoff was holding back. Her women's instincts intervened to protect her.

  When their mouths parted, Shelby made herself look into Geoff's hooded eyes. She saw the arousal and the conflict, and knew that they must face reality together. "Oh, Geoff... there's someone waiting for you in England, isn't there?"

  His head snapped back almost imperceptibly. The letter! That's why it had been half out of the compartment in the wardrobe trunk. He didn't fault her for searching; she'd done what she had to do to protect herself.

  A sigh burned his throat. "I'm afraid it's true. I've had obligations since birth. But that doesn't mean it's what I want... or that I haven't begun to question the future others have planned for me."

  "Well... it's better that I know, isn't it?"

  "I should have told you sooner, Shelby."

  "No." She rested her face against his wide shoulder, savoring the feeling while she could. "No, I'm glad you didn't. I wouldn't change a thing that happened. I promise."

  Chapter 12

  In July the road from Cody to Yellowstone was finished and Geoff decided to visit the magnificent wilderness. A family friend had traveled there twenty-five years ago, and Geoff had never forgotten the stories he'd heard as a child.

  Perhaps more importantly, it seemed a good idea to put some distance between himself and Shelby. Since the evening he'd taken her bicycle riding, Geoff felt more torn than ever about their relationship. If they just kept getting closer, wouldn't there be more pain in the end?

  Yet, riding home one hot, windy afternoon at the end of July, following his days in the wilderness, Geoff dared to wonder if there might not be another answer. His time alone in Yellowstone had left him aching for Shelby. He wouldn't have to return to England for good until next spring... and now he considered the possibility that she might love him enough to come back with him.

  Perhaps he was just dreaming, he thought, instead of facing reality, for he had yet to figure out what to do about Lady Clem or his parents. He'd given his word that, after one year of travel, he would return and fulfill his obligations without complaint.

  He just hadn't counted on Shelby—on emotions he hadn't believed were possible. Passing the entrance t
o William F. Cody's TE Ranch, he straightened in the saddle and urged Charlie to pick up his pace. The Sunshine Ranch wasn't far now.

  It felt like coming home.

  * * *

  Furtively, Shelby leaned against the fireplace and studied the advertisement in her fashion book for the "Princess Bust Developer." Nearby, on the same page, was a drawing of a huge jar bearing a label that shouted, Unrivaled for Enlargement of the Bust. What sort of bosom did Lady Clementine Beech have? she wondered.

  "What're you frowning at?" Ben Avery looked over her shoulder as he spoke, before she could slap the Harper's Bazaar closed. "Aw, Shel—what would Maddie say if she could see you looking at stuff like that?"

  Cheeks burning, Shelby tried to retain a semblance of composure. "Mama knows what it means to be a woman. She would probably be glad to know I'm thinking about something besides guns and horses."

  He looked her over. "That's for sure. I can't figure out for the life of me what has got into you. One day you're out branding calves and strutting around in pants, and the next day you start wearing dresses and putting doilies on every table in the house!"

  "I'm a girl, that's all. And these clothes are cooler than heavy denim trousers." Still blushing furiously, Shelby smoothed the creamy voile layers of her skirt and glanced at herself in the nearby mirror. She looked almost as good as the models in Harper's Bazaar. Her luxuriant curls were perfect for the Gibson Girl style, unlike poor Vivian Croll's hair, which was too thin to hold together. Helping Vivian had been a good excuse for Shelby's own experiments with her appearance, and until now Ben hadn't grown suspicious.

  "I never could figure out females," he muttered.