“Not entirely. They did what had been done in the past. What they learned from the show in which they had once performed. I’m not here to point out fault, but to help. I hope you won’t always be hostile toward me.”
“If someone came into your home, started suggesting changes, and told you that your father hadn’t sense enough to know how to manage his affairs, wouldn’t you feel a tad hostile?” She fixed him with a stern gaze.
“If my father had asked someone to help him figure out how he might better his home and family,” Jason replied calmly, “I would hope that the remaining members of the household wouldn’t treat that person as the enemy.”
Lizzy forced herself to calm down. He was right. He wasn’t here to be her enemy. “So what do you suggest, besides improving the railcars and new contracts?”
“It will be necessary to look at the operation and see where money can be saved. Perhaps we can start by eliminating some of the men who work with the stock and equipment. I’ve noticed quite a few are well into their years and able to do very little. It seems the younger men could handle their responsibilities along with their own, thus saving money in wages.”
“Those older men are friends of my family. They were given jobs with the show because they aren’t able to work full-time on our ranch. They’ve been with us for a long time, and although broken and aged, they still provide good help.”
“I know it’s hard to imagine letting them go, but no one will earn a wage if there is no longer a show.”
Lizzy hadn’t realized things were so dire. She wanted to ask Jason about the details, but at the same time, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Apparently he noted this dilemma as well.
“Over time, we can go over the ledgers and review where costs might be saved. For now, however, just let me say that I think the show is amazing. I know the crowds love it and will continue to do so. I want your help to figure out how we can keep it alive.”
His change of direction made Lizzy remember her own thoughts from the night before. “My mother doesn’t plan to continue with the show. It’s been so hard on her since my father’s death.”
“I can’t begin to imagine. Why didn’t she return to the ranch with . . . your father?”
“She wanted to.” Lizzy felt her anger fade. “She would have, had she not promised him to stay with the show. Father was a firm believer in honoring his commitments, and he didn’t want to disappoint the people who were looking forward to our performances. He made Mother and I promise we’d stay on until the end of the tour this year.” She shook her head. “I think he also knew that Mother would be lost in her grief if she didn’t have something to do.”
“And now she’ll return to the ranch?”
“Yes.” Lizzy met his sympathetic expression. “I may remain with her.”
He frowned. “But why? You’re the main attraction.”
“I am only one of several, if you’ll recall. I’m also twenty-eight. It’s getting harder to perform those tricks. Besides, without my father, I’ve lost the heart of it all.”
“But your fans can surely help reinstate that passion. They’re devoted to you. You may not realize this, but some people actually follow you from show to show—at least within a certain radius of their homes. If you leave the show, I believe it will fail. Like it or not, you are the main attraction and the reason the show continues to garner large audiences.”
“I wouldn’t go without training a replacement. The other girls who trick ride are quite good. With some practice, they could take over my tricks—even mimic my costumes and styles. No one will ever know the difference. They come for the Brookstone all-female wild west show. Not for Elizabeth Brookstone.”
“I don’t think you realize your importance.” Jason shook his head. “People know exactly who you are. You receive fan letters, don’t you?”
“Yes, but so do the others.”
He leaned forward. “Miss Brookstone, would you please at least delay making your final decision until the end of the tour? I’d like to convince you to stay on for at least one more year. The changes I’m going to suggest will upset things enough, but if you leave, then I can guarantee the show will fall apart.”
Lizzy sighed. She didn’t want to be the reason the show failed. In some ways it would be like losing her father all over again, and it would break her uncle’s heart. Uncle Oliver would never give up the show. He loved it too much. The show was his entire life, although since her father had died, Oliver had taken to drinking a bit too much, and she wasn’t sure how much life he had left in him.
Jason leaned forward. “Just give me some time, Miss Brookstone. Think about staying on for one more year. Please.”
His pleading tone stirred something deep within her. Lizzy knew what it felt like to desperately want something to work out. She also knew how it felt when the one key person refused to do their part.
“I’ll pray on it, Mr. Adler.” She met his gaze. “That’s the best I can give you.”
He smiled. “It’s enough. For now.”
three
Their next show was in four days and would take place in St. Louis, Missouri. It was the second to last show for the season, and Lizzy found herself counting down the days. She longed to return to the family ranch in Montana, where the show would spend the winter. She had memorized every inch of their large house, and there was nowhere she could go in the ten-bedroom, two-story house without remembering something pleasant or humorous. It was a haven—a sanctuary of love. It was there she had grown up, and hopefully it was there she might one day raise a family.
Lizzy gazed out the train window at the Kentucky countryside gently rolling past. Before the show in St. Louis, they had a stop to make.
Jason Adler loomed in the open doorway of the railcar. “I hope you don’t mind the interruption.”
Uncle Oliver had told them Jason was to be treated like family, so Lizzy welcomed him into their car and pushed aside thoughts of her father. “Not at all. We’ll arrive at the station soon, and then the railroad will move us to a siding and we’ll head to Fleming Farm.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure you know all of that.”
“Yes.” He took a seat on a ladder-backed wooden chair near her spot on the sofa. “You look quite lovely.”
Lizzy glanced down at her simple mauve promenade suit. It wasn’t the most current style, but was one of her better outfits. “Thank you. It may not be fashionable, but it is very comfortable.”
“You make it look quite fashionable. I especially like the way you’ve done up your hair.”
She flushed and looked at her folded hands. “That would be Mother. I’m used to braids and tight little buns. However, since we’re visiting the Flemings, it’s important to look our best. They’re very splendid and proper.”
“Ah, yes. The Flemings. Your uncle explained the arrangement. I understand their horses are important for the show.”
“Yes, after a fashion.” Lizzy was glad the focus had moved away from her appearance. “We’ve always used Morgan-Quarter horse mixes. We have a very fine older quarter horse stallion at the ranch, but we lost one of our mares, and the others are getting up in years. We need a couple of new breeders. Mother and Father were both of a mind to expand the ranch to breed horses.”
“I see. And this mix of bloodlines is what they hoped to promote?”
She could hear the doubt in his voice. “I suppose it’s difficult for you to understand, not having grown up around a ranch and wild west show.”
“I did, however, grow up—at least part of the time—on our country estate, and we had a fine stable of animals. I know the value of a good brood mare.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure it’s difficult enough to comprehend why we do what we do.” She tried not to sound sarcastic.
His expression grew serious. “Then tell me. Start with the ranch in Montana. Did you always live there?”
Lizzy knew they still had time before reaching the station. “The ranch belonge
d to my granddad, father, and uncle jointly. Granddad inherited some money and had always wanted to move west. My uncle and father were both like-minded. They sold everything, and we relocated to some land several miles outside of Miles City, Montana. I was ten years old when we moved. I saw the move as a grand adventure, but my aunts—Granddad’s daughters with his second wife—cried and whined all the way.”
“Perhaps they were leaving suitors?”
“Yes, I’m sure that didn’t help. There were five of them, but the elder two were already married. The other three were certainly of marriageable age, although I don’t recall if they were serious about anyone at the time of the move. I do recall that my mother and grandmother were the only women in our party who were in favor of the move.”
Jason chuckled and crossed his legs. “Please go on.”
“When we arrived, we found there wasn’t much to this ranch Granddad had purchased, but thanks to his inheritance, that wasn’t an issue. He knew the tiny house already in place would never work for us and had logs and finished lumber brought in to make a colossal two-story house. Granddad had visions of his sons having large families to fill it and stay on with him and Grandmother. There are ten bedrooms in the house, which I suppose sounds terribly overdone, but Granddad was always a big dreamer.”
“It sounds charming,” Jason said.
Lizzy remembered then that he came from a wealthy family—a father who was an English lord and well-propertied. “I suppose I sound silly. I’m sure you must have a much larger estate and a great deal of finery.”
“Our country estate is quite large, but our London house is smaller. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but right now I’d like to know more about your upbringing. Did you enjoy living out there in the wilds? As I understood it from my father, there aren’t many cities or people.”
She nodded. “That much is true. There still isn’t all that much, but yes, I love it. I wouldn’t live anywhere else.”
“Perhaps you only say that because you haven’t yet seen a better place.” His smooth voice was compelling.
“Perhaps.” Lizzy shrugged. “But I’ve toured all over this country.”
“Maybe,” he said, his voice lowering, “it isn’t in this country.”
Lizzy felt her cheeks grow warm. “Well, anyway, by 1885 my aunts had married, and of course my father and uncle had decided to take up the offer from their friend Bill Cody to join the wild west show he was putting together.”
“And you and your mother went along?”
“Yes. Mr. Cody wanted Mother to cook for him, and they figured I might as well come along. Mother and Father both agreed it would be a grand education. And it was. I learned a great deal and saw so many places of historical relevance.”
“So why did your father and uncle quit the show?”
Lizzy remembered it as if it were yesterday. “We were home for our winter break when Grandmother fell ill. She never recovered and died in the spring of 1886. We were all devastated. Even though she wasn’t my father and uncle’s natural mother, she was the only mother they could remember, and she had been so good to them. She was dear to all of us.” The words seemed to back up in her throat, choking her. Lizzy coughed.
“How old were you?” Jason asked. His gaze was sympathetic.
“I was fourteen.” She thought of her sadness and how much she had cried. “Grandmother was an incredible woman. To know her was to love her. My father was home from the wild west show, recovering from an injury. He and Uncle knew that Granddad could never bear it if we left, so they resigned from the show, and we stayed on the ranch.” Lizzy drew a deep breath and let it go. “The summer that followed was hot and dry, and then winter came early and hard. By January, things went from bad to worse. Are you familiar with the winter of 1886 and 1887?”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe I am.”
“Most of the ranchers hadn’t put up feed for the winter. When the snow came early and deep, the cattle were already underweight because of the drought that summer. In January, there came a warming that melted some of the snow. We thought maybe the worst was over, but of course it wasn’t. The temperatures dropped, and the melted snow formed a thick ice crust that the cattle couldn’t break through. Then more snow came. By spring, the loss was nearly total for all ranchers. We were no exception. I think Granddad lost the will to live after Grandmother died, but if not then, he certainly did when he found his entire herd dead. He and my father and uncle worked day and night to dispose of the carcasses, and Granddad caught pneumonia. He was dead within a week.” She felt her chest tighten. She didn’t want to remember those days.
“That must have been truly difficult for someone with such a tender heart.”
The train slowed and brought Lizzy back to the present. She glanced out the window to see they were still some distance from town. The Fleming horse farm was not far from Louisville, and they planned to stop there for two days. The year before, Lizzy’s father had made arrangements to buy twin four-year-old mares. He’d watched the fillies almost since birth—checking on them each year. After the second year, he told Fleming he wanted the pair, but Fleming had thought to keep them for himself. Finally, after some bartering back and forth, Fleming gave in and sold them. Father had been proud of that accomplishment. The mares were buckskin, a favorite of the Brookstone family. Just before he’d died, Father had talked with such excitement about bringing the horses home.
Jason seemed to read her mind. “If I might change the subject, tell me why you prefer the Morgan-Quarter horse mix. Your uncle said that most of the performing horses are of this cross.”
Lizzy appreciated the chance to focus on something else. “They’re marvelous. Spirited and easily trained.”
“But so too are Thoroughbreds.”
Lizzy nodded. “But they’re too tall and their backs are much too long. In order to do tricks, you must have just the right-sized animal. Of course, that is totally dependent on the rider’s size. We do have one horse that’s a Thoroughbred-Morgan, but I still find the back too long, which makes it difficult to perform some tricks. One of the other girls, however, loves him.”
“And what of other breeds?” He leaned back and crossed his legs in a casual manner.
“Well, with the American Saddlebred the neck isn’t quite right. It’s too difficult to do stands and vaults. Morgans by themselves are too stocky, and Arabians can’t manage the shifting of weight that’s required.” She considered other breeds for a moment. “The Standardbred is better suited to harness racing.”
“I quite agree,” Jason said. “And I presume that while Barbs would be small enough, their gait is too unpredictable for trick riding. They’re more suited to racing.”
Lizzy could see he was knowledgeable on the topic of horses. It gave her a bit of respect for him. “Yes. Over the years we’ve just found the quarter horse and Morgan make the best horse for trick riding. I’m sure you’ve seen my horses, Longfellow and Thoreau.”
“Beautiful buckskins. I particularly like the dappling on Longfellow. I also appreciate the names. Are you a fan of Longfellow’s and Thoreau’s writings?”
“I am. I enjoy a great many writers, but particularly poets. We also have horses at the ranch named Blake, Burns, and Byron.”
Jason grew thoughtful and closed his eyes. “‘She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes: thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.’” He opened his eyes and gazed at her with such intensity that Lizzy found herself unable to look away.
“Umm, yes. Exactly,” she said when he finished.
“I’m a fan of Byron’s work. He always captured a depth of emotion that appealed to my spirit.”
Lizzy had no desire to discuss Jason Adler’s spirit. “I recall Mother saying something about you having American relatives.” The train was now nearing the station and barely crept along. The braking made
for a jerky ride.
“Yes. There are a great many Americans on my mother’s side. She is, you see, American herself.”
“Oh.” Lizzy gave a closed-mouth smile.
He laughed. “I thought perhaps you already knew. Her family is quite wealthy, which was no doubt one of the many reasons my father married her.”
“I hope he also married for love.”
Jason shrugged. “If not, love is surely the reason they remain together. Father adores her and her family. Her people are industrialists from New York.”
The door opened at the end of the car, and Uncle Oliver strolled in as if he were making his way through the park. “Lovely day. Just perfectly lovely, Lizzy. Is your mother awake?”
Lizzy shrugged as the train continued to jerk as it slowed down. The whine of metal wheels on metal rails was enough to wake the dead. “I’m sure she is now. I’ll go see if she needs help dressing.” She glanced at Jason and gave a little nod. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He jumped to his feet and helped her up. “I enjoyed our conversation. I hope it will be the first of many.”
His thumb rubbed the back of her knuckles. When he didn’t let go, Lizzy pulled her hand away. “I must go.” Her tone was curt, perhaps edging on harsh. But it was necessary.
The last thing she wanted or needed was for Jason Adler to try to woo her.
four
Your home is just as lovely as I remember it,” Mrs. Brookstone said, patting Beatrix Fleming’s hand.
Ella Fleming watched her mother graciously welcome the Brookstones to their estate. She smiled when her gaze met Elizabeth Brookstone’s. She liked Lizzy very much. Ella had in fact found a kindred spirit in her, even though Lizzy was eight years her senior.
“It’s so good to see you again, Ella,” Lizzy said, coming forward.
“Did you have a good journey?”
Lizzy glanced around the room as if familiarizing herself with the house again. It had been over a year since she’d been here, after all. “It was the same as always.” She looked at Ella. “I just love how bright this foyer is. You’ve done something different, haven’t you?”
When You Are Near Page 3