"Everything I purchased as a co-owner is part of the Sunshine Ranch now. The rest of these papers are the bills of sale, which I made in Shelby's name. I would be insulted if you tried to reimburse me." His tone brooked no argument, then he added dryly, "I'd better go and see if Manypenny remembers how to pack. No doubt it's a shock for him to be working again."
Unable to speak, Shelby watched him rise and leave the room. She went to stand in front of the nickel-plated range, one small fist pressed to her mouth, trying to hold in an ocean of tears.
* * *
When Geoff and Manypenny left the Sunshine Ranch, Shelby stayed in bed, pleading a sick headache. She still couldn't bear to speak to Geoff for fear she'd break down and beg him not to leave her.
He was secretly relieved to be spared good-byes. What could they say to one another?
Geoff had let down his guard only once before leaving, and that was with Charlie, who would never tell anyone about the bitter tears that were shed during their last dawn ride over the ranch.
Finally, Ben and Titus took the two Englishmen and their mountain of luggage to Cody in the wagon, and it was a scene reminiscent of their arrival, except that the season had changed—and Shelby was missing. Lying in bed, she had waited for the sounds of the departing wagon to die away, and then rose and walked barefoot through the house.
Geoff's room looked like a monk's cell. Clothes, books, toiletries, and the wardrobe trunk with Lady Clementine's letter in it—everything he owned was gone. The only proof that Geoff had ever lived in this room was the faint scent of him, still in the air. Yearning and grief clenched at Shelby's insides. She crawled onto his bed, hugging his pillow, and let the tears come.
How could this have happened? How could she ever go back to life without him?
Shelby wept until she was spent, then went out into the hallway. Manypenny's room was bare, too, reminding her of the hours she'd spent there during his illness. It had been the beginning of the most unlikely friendship of her life. Was he hurt that she hadn't said goodbye?
Perhaps they'd come back. Some days the train just never arrived! Perhaps it might have been attacked and robbed by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and their Wild Bunch, in which case the train wouldn't be able to take Geoff and Manypenny away!
But when Shelby came into the kitchen and saw the sheaf of papers lying on her new lace tablecloth, her heart knew the truth. Geoff didn't mean to return, even if the train was late. On top of the deed to the ranch was an envelope containing a short letter that avoided sentiment until the very end. Geoff reminded her of their obligation to look out for Vivian Croll—"I trust you'll find a way to improve her situation, even without my help. Just be careful!"—asked her to take care of Charlie for him, and closed,
Shelby, I have regrets about the way things turned out for us, but I'm too selfish to undo the past we shared. We had some adventures and memorable experiences together, and I'd like to think our lives are better for them. I'll remember you with a smile, scamp... especially when I hear songs like "In the Good Old Summertime."
She looked around and saw that the gramophone was still on the little side table, left behind by its owner as a token of the past. Someone had put a certain record on the turntable, and Shelby knew what it would be.
There was no room for doubt: Geoff would not be coming back.
Chapter 13
Buffalo Bill was coming to Cody for the grand opening of the Irma Hotel, which would take place on November 18, 1902, just four short days away. On the Saturday morning of Colonel Cody's arrival by train, it seemed that everyone in town was en route to the depot to greet him. Businesses and houses alike were decorated with bunting, flags, and portraits of the great man, and the neighboring town of Meeteetse had sent its cornet band and orchestra to add a special flourish to the gala occasion.
Shelby Matthews and Vivian Croll were riding side by side on their bicycles, trailing at the end of the procession of a couple hundred carriages, marching musicians, and mounted dignitaries who were all heading down Sheridan Avenue toward the train station.
"Sometimes I wish he'd never come to Wyoming at all," Shelby remarked with a heavy sigh.
Vivian looked puzzled. "Colonel Cody?"
"What? Oh... no, I mean Geoff!" The sky above them was white, and the wind pushing tumbleweeds through Cody warned sharply of winter's approach. Shelby wrapped her muffler tighter and added, "If I had never met him, I wouldn't know I was missing anything now."
Vivian gave her friend a wan smile. Although she understood that Shelby had been devastated by Geoff's departure and continued to pine for him more than three months later, it was difficult for Viv to feel much sympathy for someone who enjoyed the sort of life she could only dream of. Shelby was safe, loved by her family, and, most importantly, in control of her own destiny.
"Do I sound like a terrible brat?" Shelby steered her Napoleon bicycle close enough to touch her friend's gloved hand. "I promise to say no more about it for the rest of our day together. This is too fine an occasion to be spoiled by my lamentations... and besides, I suspect that you have problems I don't understand. Isn't that so, Vivian? And you never complain; never speak a word."
The other woman glanced away, her eyes smudged with fatigue. Courage had begun stirring in her months ago, when Shelby and Geoff had first come into her woeful existence. She still felt powerless against Bart's inhumane treatment, but her thoughts were increasingly rebellious. He could beat her down, mentally and physically, but she did not have to break. Shelby's radiant presence in her life, and that of darling Willy, not only lifted her spirits, but gave her hope that better days lay ahead. Still, it was too dangerous for her to confide in her friend. Bart was capable of anything. And so she looked back at Shelby and murmured, "You have no idea, actually. It was a great victory for me to get permission to come out today."
"Permission! How can you talk that way? You are supposed to be his wife, not his slave!"
Viv could only sigh. Life was much more complicated than Shelby realized, and rarely fair or just.
Sensing her momentary weakness, Shelby pounced. "Please—tell me the truth. I can help you!"
"I—" Stricken, Vivian broke off. No more, she thought. She mustn't say another word, or she wouldn't be able to stop—and somehow he'd find out! If she involved Shelby, it would only mean that two of them were at risk. And so, instead, Viv tried to change the subject, pointing to the Irma Hotel, which was decorated with even more bunting than the rest of the buildings in town. "Goodness, doesn't it look handsome?"
Shelby choked back her pleas and speeches, knowing by now that once Viv grew skittish, she could not be reached. Instead, Shelby gave her a warm smile and nodded. "Wait until you see the magnificent bar that Queen Victoria sent Colonel Cody a couple of years ago, after his command performance in London. Uncle Ben said that it was terribly difficult to get here. It was made in France, then shipped to New York by steamer, then to Red Lodge, Montana, by train, then they had to take it apart and bring it here by horse and wagon. Isn't that amazing?" She smiled brightly. "Of course, we'll see the bar at the opening celebration for the hotel on Wednesday evening."
"I can't wait to hear all your stories," Vivian said. "Will you promise to visit me the next day? I do hope that Bart has other work on the ranch so we can talk freely. Now that winter is coming again—so quickly!—there is less and less for him to do outdoors, and that little house seems so... crowded."
"But Viv, I want you to come with me to the party!" Shelby cried. She stopped her bicycle and fished in the pocket of her coat for an invitation stamped at the top with a gold buffalo. "Look, Colonel Cody sent out a thousand of these, and they aren't addressed to us by name. You'll come as our guest! It won't be any fun for me if you aren't there!"
Vivian refused to hold the engraved invitation, but she did glance at it sadly, catching the phrase Colonel W. F. Cody earnestly desires your presence. "I can't, Shelby. Thursday is Thanksgiving. It's impossible. I know Bart s
imply wouldn't allow it." She paused. "I'm afraid to leave Willy with Bart. In fact, I shouldn't stay out long today."
"That's ridiculous! What's he going to do, physically harm you if you disobey?" Instantly, she wished she could take back the hastily spoken words, for Vivian went dead-white and her haunted eyes filled with tears. "Oh, I'm sorry! But I don't understand! I know he's a bully, but surely he wouldn't strike you! That's just too terrible to imagine!"
Her little chin was trembling as she boosted herself back onto the bicycle seat. "You just don't know how perfect your life is. You have so much to be grateful for."
Shelby watched Vivian pedal away toward the rest of Colonel Cody's welcoming procession. Shock, horror, and guilt clashed within her as she wondered how she could have been so blind... and, now that the truth was out, what she could do about it.
Oh, Geoff, I need you! Shelby thought. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and put the invitation back in her pocket before cycling furiously to catch up with Vivian. Somehow she would cope without Geoff, and find a way to rescue her dear friend from a husband who was a much worse villain than Shelby had ever imagined.
* * *
"For Pete's sake, Shel, I wish you'd quit talking all the time about Vivian Croll!" Ben complained while his niece helped him with his tie. They stood in the kitchen amidst the ruins of a Thanksgiving dinner that had been devoured by all the men of the Sunshine Ranch. "This is supposed to be such a great night—and it won't do any of us any good to spoil it worrying about her! I mean, I feel bad for her, too, but it's not my marriage—" Feeling the heat of her threatening stare, he broke off.
Her heart hurt all the time, especially when she sighed, but Shelby knew Ben was right about one thing. Tonight was special, and nothing would be gained by ruining it with more of her fretting about Vivian or brooding about Geoff's absence.
"God's foot!" Titus cried, appearing at the edge of the room. "Don't you two look magnificent! Ah, darling Shelby, if only your parents could see you tonight! How proud they'd be. You're just as beautiful as your mother, and I must tell you I always believed she was the most stunning female in all the world!"
"You are terribly dear, Mr. Pym." She gave the little Cornishman a kiss on his ruddy cheek. "Every woman at the Irma Hotel will envy me for being with you two handsome men."
It was a night to remember, largely because Ben, Titus, and Shelby had not looked so splendid since arriving in Wyoming. By reminding the men that they should have proper suits for church and other occasions, Shelby had been able to persuade them to purchase clothing for tonight's gala party. They both wore single-breasted dark suits with bow ties, striped vests, and pocket watches. Shelby had also talked them into buying warm Ulster coats, which looked handsome enough to serve the occasion, but would also keep them warm through the long winter. Freshly barbered and smelling of bay rum, they were ready for a night of celebration.
Shelby did a little pirouette to show off her own gown. Fashioned of pale yellow silk that accentuated the striking cinnamon of her hair, it featured a deep neckline inlaid with lace, and more lace decorating the sleeves. A sash of ivory silk encircled Shelby's tiny waist, in contrast to the pouf of her bodice. Her hair was upswept, her cheeks were rosy with excitement, and the four-stranded pearl dog collar that gleamed round her neck was her only jewelry.
"You sure we could afford all this finery?" Ben mumbled as he held up his niece's new fur-lined cape.
Shelby fastened the closure at her neck, reached for her matching fox-fur muff, and gave him a patient smile. "You know full well that we have a tidy sum in the bank, thanks to Geoff. I don't intend to squander it, but all three of us should have a set of good clothes for special occasions."
"You had plenty at home, as I recall, but were too stubborn to bring 'em," he grumbled.
"Perhaps I've grown up a bit since then."
Titus gave Ben a nudge in the ribs. "Be glad for that, and stop acting like a parsimonious old bachelor!"
"Hey! I'm not that old yet! I'll get married some day!"
Titus and Shelby rolled their eyes at each other, then burst out laughing. With that, they all went outside, got into the leather-topped buggy, and set out for Cody.
"Too bad we don't have snow," Ben observed as the chill crept around them. "The sleigh would be a lot faster on a cold night like this."
Still, excitement helped to keep the trio warm, and the journey up the South Fork Road went quickly. The sky was deep blue, rose-tinted where it met the great mountains to the west, but by the time they reached Cody, darkness had fallen and snowflakes fluttered down as if Buffalo Bill had ordered them for decoration.
Dozens of buggies and even motor cars were lined around the Irma Hotel's location on the corner of Sheridan Avenue. The sprawling sandstone building truly was the town's crowning jewel—more magnificent than the population could support, yet in keeping with Buffalo Bill's image of himself. There were no other structures in sight when one stood in front of the hotel, with the moonlit mountains providing a backdrop.
"He'll never see a profit," Ben remarked as they drew closer. Lights blazed in every window, people crowded the veranda that nearly wrapped around the hotel, and more guests stood on the second-floor porch that opened off the corner suite upstairs.
"I heard there's a telephone in every room," Titus marveled.
"Well, I think Colonel Cody was simply wonderful to do this for the town," Shelby said, "and I for one think that eventually the Irma will turn a profit! More and more tourists are traveling to Yellowstone Park."
"Cody's building a lodge at the eastern entrance to the park, too," Ben revealed. "Calling it Pahaska Inn." He broke off at the sight of a fetching young lady, smiling at him from the hotel steps. "Hey, why're we wasting time? Let's join the party!"
Shelby went into the Irma Hotel on Titus's arm, happy, smiling, and beautiful... yet constantly aware of the space in her heart that had ached since the day Geoff had returned to England. Occasions like this one should have helped her to forget, but instead Shelby found herself missing him more. They had discussed Buffalo Bill and the progress of his hotel many times, and everything that she saw tonight she wanted to share with him.
"Our friend Geoff would have enjoyed this occasion," Titus murmured, knowing it was better to bring it out in the open. Perhaps that would help her to have fun without him.
Shelby blinked. There was a lump in her throat, preventing words, and all she could do was nod over and over again.
"I understand more than you know, darling girl." He patted her, kissed her cheek, and took her cape. "Go on in there and watch all the men drop at your feet."
She glanced down at herself, coloring, then back at Titus. "Daddy would thank you for taking care of me this way, Mr. Pym. Uncle Ben means well, but—"
"Don't I know all about him! I've been trying to tame that lad since he was no higher than my elbow." He saw that she was shy about moving among the guests alone, perhaps because so many people were staring at her already, so Titus led the way. "Let's find ourselves a glass of champagne."
The Irma Hotel was more impressive than Shelby had dreamed. The lobby was spacious and well-appointed, with a paneled desk that spanned one wall, and stylish wallpaper decorated with framed paintings of Buffalo Bill and some of his colorful friends. Staring at Shelby from high on the far wall were the stuffed heads of animals that appeared to be elk. The lobby was crowded with people, but in the middle of the room, she saw a large circular ottoman upholstered in tufted leather occupied by five elderly guests.
Some people greeted her, but clearly few recognized her in a gown rather than a split skirt and boots.
The band was playing "A Bird in a Gilded Cage." Shelby peeked into the huge dining room and saw that Ben was there, dancing with the fetching girl from the porch steps. In the barroom, gaslights shone in the mirrors backing the bar given to Cody by Queen Victoria, and there were grand billiard tables as well.
"Here's your champagne, dear," Titus
said, touching her elbow. "I hear that Cody himself is about to speak to the guests from the bottom of the stairs. Shall we go and listen?"
She was excited by this news. The day he'd arrived at the depot, the crowd had been so huge that Shelby hadn't been able to get near, even though Cody was a friend of her family. Besides, Vivian had needed to start home early... and Shelby had felt awkward about mentioning her acquaintance with the famous Buffalo Bill Cody. The differences between her luck and Vivian's were beginning to become apparent to her, and there was no use rubbing salt in the wounds.
Still, approaching the staircase, Shelby wished Viv could be there—and be able to enjoy this sort of party like the truly fine woman she was. Why couldn't Vivian have the sort of life she herself took for granted?
Cody stopped partway down the stairs, flanked by his daughters: Irma, for whom the hotel was named, and Arta. Both were quite pretty and fashionably dressed. Colonel Cody appeared to be in good spirits, but perhaps a bit tired, a reminder that he was nearing sixty and kept a grueling schedule. His long hair was white now, as were his goatee and mustache, but he retained an air of dignity and magnetism. Shelby had read in the newspaper about the late-October death of Arta's husband, Horton Boal. Boal had committed suicide in a Sheridan hotel owned by his father-in-law, and Shelby decided that the family was bearing up well under their tragedy.
The band struck up "Hail to the Chief," but Buffalo Bill soon begged for quiet. After introducing his daughters and the hotel manager and staff, he orated, "To those who ask how I would like to be remembered, I now reply that I should like to be known as a pioneer and a developer of civilization, rather than simply as a scout and a showman. I love the Bighorn Basin with all my being. Homecomings like this one are the great red-letter days of my life, and I swear to you, my dear friends, that I intend to make the Irma Hotel the talk of the West!" Cody paused, then added, "Tonight, I also am honored to announce the engagement of my lovely daughter, Irma, to Lieutenant Clarence Stott, who is stationed at Fort Mackenzie, Sheridan, Wyoming. This truly is a red-letter day for the Cody family!"
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