The Genuine Lady (Heroines on Horseback)

by Sydney Alexander

  “My land in —” Jared shook his head. “There’s no land in Texas. That land agent took my money and disappeared. You’d have known that, but…” They looked at each other, neither willing to acknowledge what had happened the day he’d tried to tell her there wouldn’t be a ranch on the Rio Grande. “There’s no land,” he finished lamely. “All I’ve got is in Bradshaw.”

  And then Hope laughed, loud and merry, turning her head back and giving herself over to amusement until Jared thought she’d gone insane. He was starting to wonder if he ought to go for a doctor when she recovered herself, gasping a little and wiping at her eyes. He looked at her with narrow eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh Jared,” she giggled. “It’s too wonderful. Don’t you even know? The deed for that land came six months later. I thought you had a copy. But I guess I have the only one.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jared stopped breathing for a minute, and he thought maybe his heart had stopped beating too, because the room started spinning and he saw spots before his eyes. By the time he had recovered himself, he was seated on the divan and Hope was sitting up against him, fanning him ardently with her painted fan.

  The breeze blew her curls in his eyes. “Stop that,” he ordered, catching at her wrist. “Stop playing and tell me what’s going on.”

  She toyed with teasing him a bit longer; he could see the trouble in her eyes. But something sharp in his tone told her that he was done playing with her. She might lose her temper with him day in and day out, but she had yet to see Jared grow angry with her, and she decided that she didn’t want to.

  “You own the land in Texas,” she said simply. “A courier brought it to Mrs. O’Keefe’s house, and she sent him to the dance-hall to deliver it to me, and, well… I’ve had it ever since.” She got up and started rooting around in a valise leaning against the wall. “I have it right here, as a matter of fact…”

  “Have what?” He didn’t think he understood correctly. The ranch-land along the Rio Grande was his? How could that be? He’d been told the land agent was a crook, that he’d taken the money to Mexico. He’d been told his life savings were lining someone else’s pockets.

  “The deed to the land,” Hope smiled, brandishing an envelope. “With your name on it. I guess you didn’t get a copy after all. I told the courier you were out on a drive and you’d be in Dakota for a year — I asked Mrs. O’Keefe after you left, you know, so I’d still know where you were — and to send you a copy there. But maybe he didn’t bother with it.” She laughed again, that pretty trilling laugh he had always been so wild about in Galveston. But suddenly it didn’t sound so lovely to him anymore.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he gritted out from between clenched teeth.

  She ignored his tone and settled down on the divan again, wagging the envelope in his face. “I thought you knew.”

  “Like hell you did!” Jared snatched at the envelope and opened it, reading the parchment paper within it feverishly. His hands shook as he put the deed back in its envelope and set it down on the table ever so gently, as if it were made of delicate china. Then he got up from the divan and stood over her, face set in fury. “You kept it a secret from me — all this time I thought I had lost everything I’d invested, and you knew about it… so that you’d have something to hold over my head down the road.”

  “Why, Jared, that’s just cra—”

  “Is it? Why did you follow me here, Hope?” He started pacing around the little room, weaving in and out of the overstuffed furniture and gilded tables that crowded the space. The floor creaked beneath his boots. “You could have any man you choose. You already proved that once before. You wanted a cattle baron and you married a cattle baron when you saw it would take too long for me to become one myself. Why don’t you go and find yourself another one? Too proud to dance for your supper anymore?”

  Hope’s face darkened dangerously. “How dare you,” she hissed. “When I think of the way you mooned over me for four solid years and now you throw my love in my face! I hand you the deed to the land you thought was stolen and you insult me for my troubles! Is this how you intend to treat the woman you marry? Maybe this Englishwoman ought to know about it!”

  Jared was shaking his head. “This is crazy,” he muttered. “You’re crazy. I’m crazy. I have to go.” He snatched up the deed and stuffed it inside his coat. “I can’t do this with you, Hope. I can’t see the truth from the lies with you.”

  Hope looked away from his bleak gaze, her face falling for the first time. “I love you,” she said softly. “Everything I do, I do because I love you.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” Jared snapped, going to the door.

  “I know,” she whispered as he went out of the room. “I do.”

  ***

  Jared had every intention of getting straight on the 1:10 train and hopping off at Bradshaw. That had been his goal since he had gotten up that morning and told Hope that today was the day he went back. To sort things out, he’d said, still stuck in the paralysis that wouldn’t allow him to think more than a few minutes ahead. What “sort things out” meant, he hadn’t had a clue. See Cherry? And tell her what? That he loved her? That he’d left her? How could he talk to her when he had nothing that made any sense to tell her?

  He’d been in a welter of confusion when he went into the Opportunity Hotel that morning, but now, as the winter noontime sun wanly shone down on the frozen street, he knew his way forward. Not anything too specific, mind; the deed in his pocket, granting him a thousand acres of prime grazing land down near the Rio Grande, was a gift he had never expected. How that would affect his future, he couldn’t say. But one thing he did know: he was going to go back to Cherry. And he was going to tell her he was sorry, and he loved her. And then he would say it again. As many times as it took. He’d tell her the whole sorry story, lay it at her feet, and beg for her forgiveness. And if she didn’t give it to him, well… he’d ask again tomorrow. And the next day. He’d grovel at her damn feet, if that’s what it took.

  Cherry would be worth it. Hope never had been. He’d been a fool not to see it.

  He’d tell her that, too. A couple times. All the time. Over and over. What a damn fool he’d been.

  He smiled and shook his head at himself.

  The station-master was coming out of the office when Jared went up the steps to the siding. “Help you?” he asked, glancing up from the telegram in his hand.

  “Ticket to Bradshaw,” Jared said, digging out some money.

  “Not today,” the station-master said with a shrug. He waved the telegram in the air. “Train’s done broke-down east of Ellis Springs. They expect it will come tomorrow though.”

  Jared’s shoulders slumped, then he shrugged too. “Guess it’s a long ride for me, then.”

  The station-master nodded. “If it’s that important. Can’t wait for tomorrow, huh?”

  Jared smiled, his mind blissfully clear for the first time in weeks. “It’s that important.”

  The roan would be happy, anyway, he thought as he went trudging back to his hotel. That poor horse was bored as hell hanging around in the livery stable, missing his pasture back in Bradshaw, where he had the freedom to gallop around and kick up his heels if he felt like it. He had started greeting Jared with pinned ears and a switching tail whenever he saw him, a sure sign of a fed-up horse. He’d love a nice gallop… that would cheer him up in no time at all… and it would raise Jared’s spirits, as well. Nothing like a gallop, no sirree…

  He climbed the steps of the hotel, put his hand on the door-knob, and stopped. There was a clatter and rattle coming from behind the hotel. He walked across the wooden porch and looked down the alley that ran between the hotel and the livery stable. There was definitely an agitated horse kicking at the walls back there. He leaned way over, his shoulders and head out in the alley, trying to see what was going on…

  …And pulled himself back sharply as a horse came careening out
of the back door of the livery and charging up the alley, galloping so hard that Jared barely escaped with his head. He jumped back onto the porch and swatted his hand around at the dust kicked up by the loose horse. Must be a loose horse, because no rider ever would have been fool enough to…

  He stepped to the edge of the porch, eyes narrowing, coughing on dust. The horse was moving at a racing clip through the town of Opportunity, scattering dogs and small children and causing a grocer to pull up sharply, nearly overturning his wagon as his mule bounced sideways, mouth agape in protest against the hard bit, and the dust was rising up in a cloud behind him, but even so, he thought he recognized that apple-shaped rump, that brown-streaked tail… that feather in her hair!

  “Goddamn it!” Jared Reese shouted, and the whole town of Opportunity seemed to turn and look at him. “That bitch stole my goddamn horse!”

  ***

  “You won’t regret this,” Cherry told Mr. Morrison. “Thank you so much!” She was having a hard time staying cool and professional right at the moment. Mr. Morrison’s lumber-yard business was going so well, he’d decided to open a new business in Bradshaw, and he’d told Cherry about it first.

  “A livery stable is just what this town needs to put it on the map,” Mr. Morrison said grandly, holding back his team with one hand. Percival danced beneath Cherry and she gave him a sharp tug on the bit, chiding him for not standing still. The Thoroughbred went rigid, ears lop-sided with shame. She patted his neck.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Cherry replied emphatically. She wasn’t actually altogether certain what a livery stable would do for the local economy, but she supposed if people could rent horses and put up their own horses for a spell, that might be good for people who wanted to open up businesses in town. There were always ambitious people getting off the train and getting back on again when they saw that the town was just a way-station for homesteaders on their way out to their claims, after all. Not everyone wanted to make a living as a farmer. “It’s a wonderful plan,” she went on. “And having stock for sale all the time is a very wise addition to it.”

  “You’ll make fine horses out of them,” Mr. Morrison said with a smile. He looked over Percival with a knowing eye. “That horse didn’t know his head from his tail when you first got him. Look at him now! He’s the envy of the county, and it’s only been a month.”

  “Well.” Cherry smiled with pleasure at the compliment. “He is a very clever horse, and he’s kind. That helps. You can do more with a kind horse than a stubborn one, you know. You’ll want to be very careful choosing the horses you bring into the stable.”

  “Oh, I shan’t stir a step without consulting with you, Mrs. Beacham. It’s clear you know horseflesh. And we have plenty of time. It will be summer before we are ready to open for business. Will you come and meet with me this evening to discuss a timeframe?”

  Cherry agreed to return to the lumber-yard office after tea and bid Mr. Morrison farewell. She let Percival trot, arching his neck and stepping out with his big, elegant stride, as they went riding on through town, too flush with happiness for a mere plodding walk. What had just been a simple canter along the railroad grade had turned into a very profitable meeting! Mr. Morrison had astonished her when he told her that he wanted her to train horses for Bradshaw’s new livery. “I am lucky to have such a lovely horse as you,” she told Percival, stroking his hot neck. “Goodness, but you’ve worked up a sweat! You have too much winter coat for this mild season we have been having, my dearest. We had better take it easy and walk for a while.”

  At Patty’s house, just outside of town, she stopped and whistled, as shrill as a magpie and as boyish as a rooster. Patty burst out of the house with Eddie all bundled up in his coat and scarf and hat. “I suppose you want to put my darling boy up on that monster now?” Patty called, and Cherry laughed and nodded. Patty shook her head and took Eddie by the hand, helping him negotiate the front porch steps one by one.

  What a big boy he was, to be walking and managing the stairs! Cherry watched him with a delight so great that she thought her heart would burst. Really, she could want for nothing in the world these days. Dear friends, a healthy, beautiful son, and now a partnership in a business that would let her hire help on the claim and keep her family clothed and fed not just meagerly, but comfortably. She didn’t know that she could take any more good news today! It was all just… splendid, as Patty would say.

  Patty handed up Eddie with a grunt. “You’re getting heavy, darling boy,” she told him, and he laughed.

  “Paddy stwong,” he announced. “Big guwl Paddy.”

  “Patty is a big strong girl, isn’t she!” Cherry settled him in front of her and wrapped his fists around the saddle horn.

  “Oh, you stop that… both of you,” Patty laughed. “And be home for tea. I’m making apple dumplings.” She patted Eddie’s knee lingeringly and then went marching back into the house, unbuttoning her coat as she went.

  “Apple dumplings!” Cherry nudged Percival into a slow walk, keeping her reins quite short in case he took it into his head to spook at a jackrabbit, as he had done last week. The cold dry air they’d had for the past few weeks had the horse in high spirits. “We are quite spoilt, Eddie darling. Mother doesn’t even know how to make apple dumplings.”

  “Apples,” Eddie purred in delight. “Pewcy likes apples.”

  “He does like apples, but that’s our secret, remember? Mustn’t tell Aunt Patty we fed her apples to the horse. It was very naughty of us.” Cherry smiled, remembering sneaking several apples out of the barrel in the cellar and spoiling all the horses in the stable with treats. Eddie had loved feeling their whiskers prick his palms as they lipped the fruit from his hands. She watched him take one hand from its death-grip on the saddle-horn and take a fistful of Percival’s black mane, stroking the hairs back and forth between his fingers. It was Cherry’s fondest wish to have a son as talented and fond of horses as she was. And as his father had been. Edward had adored horses as much as Cherry did. It looked like Eddie would follow in their footsteps.

  They rode out into the prairie, the dead grass crackling beneath Percival’s hooves, until the wind from the northwest simply grew too stiff for Cherry’s liking, and she turned the horse back towards Bradshaw. The little town was a gray huddle in the vast expanse of grasslands, but it made her smile. Bradshaw, however tiny, however ramshackle, however radically different from her English life it was, had welcomed her in ways she could never have expected.

  Then her gaze turned northward, and she tightened her jaw, swallowing at the little lump that rose in her throat. Was he up there? She didn’t know anymore. Part of her thought that if Jared had been honest, he’d have come back to town, at least to visit her, just once in the past weeks. In her heart, however angry she was with him for leaving her without a mention of their engagement, she couldn’t believe he’d decided to hole up at his claim instead of facing up to the promise he’d made her. Even if was only to break things off. It didn’t seem like him to run away like that.

  For a moment, her hands tightened on the left rein, then relaxed again. Even if she had thought it would be a good idea to ride out to the claim, she had Eddie with her, and it was far too long and cold a ride to take him all the way out there and back again. And she had her meeting with Mr. Morrison this afternoon. Back to Bradshaw, then. Whatever happened with Jared, she had a future there that was independent of her failed relationship with him.

  “Home for apple dumplings!” she told Eddie.

  “Huwwy!” he cried. “Giddup, Pewcy!”

  Cherry laughed and kissed his hatted little head. Everything, at last, was going to be just fine.

  ***

  Cherry came tripping out of the lumber-yard office with a spring in her step. It was getting dark already, and there was a sharpness to the air that she thought she recognized. “Is it going to snow?” she asked Mr. Morrison, who was walking her home in deference to the early nightfall.

  “I believe so
,” he said thoughtfully, looking up the street and towards the northern horizon. “There’s a cloudbank to the north, see there?” He pointed; just visible in the gloom was a dark ridge of cloud, far off over the prairie. “That’s where all our nasty weather comes from. Hope we aren’t getting a blizzard. Lord knows we’re due for one.”

  “A blizzard…” Cherry had never seen a blizzard. Her winter in New York had seen a few snowfalls; and a gentle snowfall was the most she had ever known at home in England. But she’d heard all sorts of frightening stories, about twelve-foot snowdrifts, and people making tunnels to get from house to house, or to the store. “I hope not,” she said at last.

  “We’ll get one sooner or later,” Mr. Morrison said, not very helpfully. He glanced at her face and changed his tone. “It won’t be so very bad. You have provisions enough, and company, and firewood! That’s all you need.”

  Cherry nodded. That was true. Here in Bradshaw, she was safe; it was out on the claim where she might have really had to worry about a snowstorm. Her mind, as always, wandered to Jared. Was he out there in his cabin, alone with his hired boy? Would he be safe if they were all snowed-in?

  They walked briskly up the road, Cherry’s eyes and thoughts firmly on the cabin she knew lay beyond the horizon. Then, below the frightful cloud that was slowly growing closer, she saw a little movement. A swirl of dust. “What is that?” She pointed to the new cloud. “A dust devil?”

  Mr. Morrison squinted. “I believe that’s a horse,” he said after a moment. “Someone’s comin’ in to town at a fair clip.”