Wildblossom

by Wright, Cynthia

  The crowd roared in response, their cheers filling the building, and the band struck up "Hail to the Chief"' again. When the ceremonial portion of the evening was ended, Buffalo Bill encouraged all his guests to celebrate. Shelby and Titus were about to turn back toward the lobby when Irma Cody came to the bottom step and called softly, "Does anyone know if a Miss Shelby Matthews is present tonight?"

  Startled, Shelby raised her hand amidst the crush. "I am she!"

  Irma gave her a sweet smile. "My father has wondered how you and your uncle have fared on your ranch. Won't the two of you come up to his suite and speak to him?"

  Titus promised to send Ben along, and moments later Shelby found herself with a Cody daughter on either side. Buffalo Bill had already climbed the stairs, deep in conversation with his friend, Dr. Powell. Shelby couldn't help wondering about the whereabouts of Cody's wife, Louisa, and why no one mentioned her in speeches about the virtues of their family. Were the rumors of divorce true?

  What was the use of fame and genius and wealth if one couldn't enjoy it with a loving mate? How sad that Colonel Cody didn't have a wife by his side, laughing with him, holding his arm, and worrying over his wellbeing. Again Shelby felt that familiar stab of yearning for Geoff.

  Where was he tonight? She scarcely dared consider the possibility that he might have married Lady Clementine Beech by now... but it was hard not to remember the words she had written to her fiancé: Mummy longs to begin planning a Christmas wedding...

  "How long have you been living out here?" Irma asked.

  "Oh, a long time! At least, it seems like a very long time. I came here from Deadwood in April." She gave both women a smile that was rich with complex emotions. "So much has happened to me since then." It occurred to Shelby that she must guard her tongue, for the Cody sisters' hearts were in very different places. Irma was newly betrothed, while Arta's husband had just killed himself with chloroform, leaving her with two children to raise alone.

  Fortunately, Shelby didn't have to make conversation with both women when they reached Colonel Cody's suite. Arta wandered off into another room, and Irma happily soliloquized about her impending nuptials.

  The corner rooms Cody had reserved for his own use were handsome. There was a private parlor, two bedrooms, and a bath and closet, all crowded with stylish oak furnishings. As downstairs, there were many portraits of Buffalo Bill on the walls. Since her father seemed to be otherwise occupied at the moment, Irma suggested that Shelby look around. "Everyone wants to speak to him, and he is happy to oblige," she explained.

  Shelby decided to go into the bedroom an explore the porch that was constructed upon the veranda roof. There was a great corner window opening onto the wide makeshift balcony, the edge of which was marked only by a low-railed fence. It was a perfect spot to escape the stifling crowds that filled the hotel, and Shelby stepped out into the frigid air and inhaled deeply. The fledgling town of Cody was spread below, silvered by moonlight and dusted with snowflakes. Most of the homes were dark, since nearly everyone had come to the party.

  "Too bad Geoffrey Weston had to go back to England," a kindly voice said from behind her. "I miss him, too."

  "Oh!" Shelby pressed a hand to her heart, whirling.

  "I didn't know anyone else was out here!" In the shadowy light she recognized Jacob Schwoob and felt a throb remembering the happy afternoon she and Geoff had spent at the Cody Trading Company.

  "I didn't mean to frighten you, Shelby, but you looked so lonely, and I thought I could guess the reason."

  "You could? Were my feelings for Geoff that obvious?"

  Jakie Schwoob gave her an indulgent smile, then took off his wire-rimmed spectacles and polished them as he spoke. "I know that the two of you denied any romance the day you came into my store, but as time passed, I saw more and more of Geoff, and he stopped trying to hide his feelings for you."

  Shelby's heart was pounding hard and her legs felt weak. "I—I'm getting cold. Could we go inside?"

  He took her elbow to help her through the tall window, and in the glow of the gaslights, Schwoob looked more benevolent than ever. "I just think you ought to know that Geoff loves you. Everything he bought, from the gramophone to the bicycles to the piano, was a way for him to express that love."

  She was so numb it seemed the voice was coming to her through gauze. "Piano?"

  "It's finally arriving this week," Jakie said, beaming. "Geoff ordered it the same day he took the bicycles home."

  She wanted so badly to believe him, but was afraid to let herself. "I know that Geoff was fond of me, but if it were more than that, wouldn't he have tried to find a way to be with me?"

  "Who knows? Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing for you." He shrugged, then glanced across the room to the spot where Ben Avery and his evening's companion were chatting with Colonel Cody. "See that girl? Do you know who she is?"

  "No..."

  "It's Etta Feeley. When she first arrived from Red Lodge, people assumed she was a lady, and her visit was written up in the Society column. Since then, some folks are still confused about her... but the fact is that she owns the biggest—" Jakie pondered the best turn of phrase. "—fancy house in Cody. And Etta's a friendly girl; shops in my store regularly. She's spent a lot of money on her, uh, establishment, and that's good for the whole town—"

  "Does my uncle know this about Miss Feeley?"

  "Probably. But I mentioned her to you because she approached Geoff one day in my presence. Etta made her intentions quite clear." He smiled at the memory. "My point is this: if Geoff hadn't been in love with you, I think he would've gotten to know her a little better. What did he have to lose? She invited him, and he declined, flat-out. The only men in this town who do that are crazy in love or happily married."

  "But... what good does it do for me to know all this?" Tears glittered in Shelby's eyes and she sighed as if a heavy burden was pressing against her breast. "To think that Geoff truly loved me only increases my pain! I miss him constantly. I do believe that he was—is—the mate God intended for me, but now that cannot be. He has gone back to another life in England, and he is promised in marriage to another woman!"

  He looked stricken. "My dear girl, I only thought—I mean, is there no hope, no way this gulf between you can be bridged?"

  Accepting his handkerchief, Shelby delicately blew her nose and shook her head. "I think that I am doomed to spend the rest of my life ranching and caring for the men. I'll be an eccentric spinster, looking after my old bachelor uncle...."

  "I cannot imagine that is your fate!" Jakie felt terrible for bringing on this case of the doldrums. "Dear Shelby, I see that Colonel Cody is waving to us, and pointing at you. Are you well enough to speak to him?"

  Shelby looked like a fragile little dove in her lovely gown and upswept hairstyle as she tottered off bravely to join Ben, Buffalo Bill, and the notorious Etta Feeley.

  Etta was the first to greet her, reaching out with both hands. "I've heard a lot about you, Miss Matthews!" She wore too much perfume and rouge, but her smile was genuine. "We've been helping Colonel Cody hatch a plan for you, and I hope you will give him your attention!"

  Shelby greeted her in return, glanced at Ben—who was looking warm and uncomfortable—and put her gloved hand in Cody's. He bent low, kissing it, his goatee wiggling slightly. Then, as if on cue, Ben cleared his throat and announced that he and Miss Feeley would be going downstairs for refreshments.

  Cody gave Shelby an intense look. "Miss Matthews, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you. Will you grant me a few minutes of your time?"

  "Of course, sir! I would be honored."

  He liked that. Clasping her arm, Cody led her to a long, tasseled sofa in the corner of the parlor. Something in his expression convinced the other guests nearby to leave them alone.

  "May I be frank, Miss Matthews?" When she nodded emphatically, he smiled. "You are charming, and I understand that you are very talented as well. Is it true that you are an extrem
ely proficient horsewoman... and a sharpshooter, too?"

  "I don't mean to sound conceited, but yes, sir! I love to practice riding and roping, and especially shooting, for hours on end. Uncle Ben has helped me learn some marvelous tricks." Shelby was brightening again in the wake of her scene with Jakie Schwoob. "I must confess that I idolize Annie Oakley."

  He looked extremely pleased, then his expression turned somber. "I don't know if you are aware or not that I, and my Wild West Show, have had a very difficult year. You have read about my poor son-in-law? Well, aside from that tragedy, there have been other trials. My old friend and partner, Nate Salsbury, has been ailing, unable to travel with the show much of the time...." He heaved a sigh. "Perhaps the biggest blow was the train wreck involving the Wild West Show a year ago. We lost more than one hundred of our show horses, including my own mount, Old Pop."

  Shelby gasped. Cody's eyes glazed over for a moment, then he patted her hand. "Yes, young lady, I'm afraid it's true. We were lucky not to lose any human lives—but Annie Oakley was so badly injured that she was hospitalized for many months."

  "Oh, dear! I didn't know that!"

  "Well... we've tried to keep it out of the newspapers, hoping that she would make a full recovery. However, that seems doubtful now." At last his compelling gaze fastened on Shelby. "I'll confess to you that we've also had a few money problems of late, and I am worried about the success of our upcoming tour abroad without Annie to draw the crowds."

  "But Colonel Cody, your show is filled with stars and spectacles, like the Indian attack of the wagon train! People will come with or without Annie Oakley!"

  "I'm not prepared to take that chance."

  Shelby was puzzled. The air was dense with cigar smoke, perfume, and the heat of bodies and steam from the nearby radiator. Why was Buffalo Bill telling her all of this?

  "I can see that you are too modest to guess my intentions, and I won't keep you in suspense any longer," Cody said genially. "Miss Matthews, I would like you to take Annie Oakley's place—performing as a female sharpshooter with the Wild West Show. We sail for England on December fifteenth!"

  It was too much for Shelby to take in. She stared, made a little sound of disbelief, then fell to the floor in a faint.

  Chapter 14

  "I can't believe I fainted!" Shelby cried, her voice all the louder in Vivian's tiny sod house. She shook her head in disgust. "I can't bear women who faint! There I was, at the great turning point of my life—and I made a complete fool of myself!"

  "That's silly!" Vivian laughed and petted Willy, who still weighed no more than ten pounds. He was her constant companion, shadowing her as she did chores and cuddling beside her the rest of the time. "I think that you fainted because of the corset. You aren't used to being cinched in like that. Besides, it sounds as if Colonel Cody didn't think any less of you for it, so I suggest that you stop fretting."

  They were seated together at the splintered table, which was covered by the cloth Vivian had embroidered with such painstaking care. Already, like everything else in Bart Croll's house, it was stained and spoiled where he had touched it. If Shelby didn't care so deeply for Viv, she couldn't bear to set foot in this hovel. It had repulsed her the first time she'd visited, in dust-choked summer, but now it was even worse because there was no air from outside. Shelby's eyes burned from the smoke.

  Vivian read her mind. "If there were love in this house, I could be happy in spite of the hardships...." She tried to smile. "At least it's too cold to rain! The last time it rained for two days in a row, I had to hold an umbrella over my head when I tried to stand at the stove and cook."

  "Our roof leaks sometimes, too," Shelby lied.

  "I wouldn't mind if it was rain that dripped through—but our roof is covered with sod." She glanced away. "It leaks big globs of mud, and they fall in the soup, on my sewing, sometimes on my face when I'm sleeping."

  Shelby didn't know what to do except cover her friend's hand with her own. "Oh, Vivian, won't you please reconsider and come with me to England?" It seemed to her that Viv might change her mind, just as she herself had, if enough pressure was applied. "I thought it was a crazy idea at first, too, but everyone convinced me that it will be the best thing for me even if Geoff won't have anything to do with me."

  Already Vivian was fond of imagining the reunion between Shelby and Geoff. Ever since the starry night when he'd been so kind to her, rustling back Shelby's cattle, she had felt her own heart flutter each time they'd met. It was a harmless secret, her girlish infatuation with Geoffrey Weston, and seemed to have no connection with her best friend's very real love for him. Perhaps it made her cheer Shelby on all the more. She never expected her own dreams to come true, but Shelby was different. She was charmed, somehow.

  "You must write to me immediately after he sees you in England," Vivian said softly. "I want to know every single detail, every word the two of you exchange—please?"

  "No. I won't tell you anything."

  Vivian looked crushed. "But why not? I promise not to tell anyone else; you know you can trust me, Shelby!"

  "That's not the point. I want you to be there yourself! I'll need someone to help me. Even Colonel Cody suggested that I have a maid to see to my costumes and look after my things when we travel. The only person I want to be with me is you, Viv!"

  They stared at one another, the crux of the matter left unsaid. Shelby meant for Vivian to leave Bart, to divorce and start life anew in England. The naked fear in Viv's eyes was more eloquent than words.

  "Are you just going to stay here for the rest of your life?" Shelby asked urgently, her voice breaking. Her friend looked away. "Why can't you ever meet my eyes when I try to discuss these matters? What has he done to make you so terrified that you would subject yourself to this torture forever?"

  Vivian pressed her lips together, then murmured, "At least I have my darling Willy. And, Bart may not live to be very old. Already he has an awful cough from those cigarettes."

  "But Viv, can't you see how crazy that sounds? You need love from people, not just from a dog. Why should you waste your own future waiting for Bart to die?"

  "Sometimes I think that animals are better at loving than people, because they don't find fault, or indulge in cruelty or betrayal." She stroked Willy's wiry fur. "As for Bart... in a perverse way, I owe him my life. After my family died in that horrible fire, and I found myself homeless in St. Louis in the dead of winter, I actually thought I might either freeze or starve to death. Bart brought me here and gave me a home...."

  Shelby wanted to shake her. "At what cost?" She felt like crying at the sight of her friend's gaunt, ghostly face, her deep-set blue eyes and her dull hair. "Your life has meaning! I love you like a sister. How can I go away to England and leave you here with that monster?"

  "I'll be all right. You have to go. I want you to."

  Shelby shook her head. "I have to go home and finish packing, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up. I just wish I had more time to change your mind before I leave for England."

  "I thought you said the Wild West Show isn't sailing from New York until the middle of December?"

  "Yes, but I want to visit my parents, and there are only two trains a week right now—so I have to take the one tomorrow." They stood, and Shelby stepped forward and dared to hug Vivian. Her friend was clearly afraid to be touched, even by a loved one, and stood with her arms pressed to the sides of her painfully thin body. "I hate good-byes. I'm a terrific coward when it comes to saying good-bye. Did you know that I stayed in bed rather than face Geoff when he left?" She sighed. "If you don't come to the ranch with your bags packed tonight, I'll do everything in my power to come over here on the way to the train and try one more time to change your mind."

  "Don't—I mean, if Bart is here, it will only make my lot harder after you're gone."

  Deep affection swelled Shelby's heart and brought hot tears to her eyes. "Oh, Viv—why are you punishing yourself this way?"

  The other woman loo
ked away again, shaking her head, then squeezing her eyes closed so Shelby wouldn't see the raw depths of her misery. Little Willy whimpered and licked her hand.

  * * *

  When Bart Croll saw Shelby Matthews riding away from his house, he was so mad he took a bite out of his cigarette by accident, then chewed it up and swallowed it. That bitch made him crazy. She'd stolen the cattle back, he knew it for a fact. He'd seen 'em back on her land, branded now with that stupid sun symbol.

  She went riding around like a hellion, roping and shooting and dressing as if she thought she was a cowboy. That long red braid of hers flipped in the wind, just as sassy as Shelby herself.

  Bart dreamed of killing her. Just shooting her outright-—boom!—right through the heart with a big gun. He also dreamed of screwing her like a dog. Croll didn't know which he wanted more.

  He was hungry as hell, too. Dismounting, he went into the house and discovered that nothing at all was cooking on the stove. Worse, Vivian was sitting at the table, staring off in the distance dreamy as a half-wit, petting that stupid dog.

  Bart tried not to lose his temper. Instead he batted her on the side of the head and shouted, "Lazy bitch! Where's my dinner? You think this is some kind of society hotel I'm runnin' here?"

  "No, Bart. I'm sorry." She started to her feet, eyes downcast, and pushed the cowering Willy under the table. Usually, when she heard him coming, she locked the dog in the outside shed, where he'd be safe and out of Bart's way. "Shelby stopped by to say good-bye. She's taking Annie Oakley's place in the Wild West Show." Bart only gave her his meanest bored stare. "Anyway, I guess I lost track of time. I'll get your dinner just as quick as I can—"

  "I don't want dinner yet."

  Nausea swept over her at the tone of his voice. Pretending not to understand, Vivian hurried toward the stove and reached for a cast-iron skillet. Her hand shook so much that it rattled against the burner, and Willy peeked out from under the tablecloth.