No Place for a Lady

by Vivian Vaughan

  “Let freedom ring!” someone shouted.

  Other women took up the chorus. “Ring in the new! Ring out the old!”

  “It’s Independence Day!”

  “Our independence!”

  Madolyn stood as though rooted to the tracks. Were these two bull-headed men going to defeat her, not by stopping the demonstration, but by belittling it?

  “Lead on, Maddie,” one of the women urged.

  To where? she wondered. These two men, the only two people she had ever loved, had made a mockery of the demonstration. They didn’t deserve to have their towns reunited.

  “Don’t give up on us, Maddie.”

  “We can’t quit now.”

  “Lead on, Maddie.”

  Madolyn stiffened her spine, and with it came resolve. No man in either town deserved a one of these good women. And she, Madolyn Sinclair, formerly secretary of the Boston Woman Suffrage Society, could not, would not, let them down. Her heart might be broken, but her will remained strong.

  She stepped off the railroad tracks, praying she didn’t look as limp and out of steam as she felt. With her first step toward Buck, memories assailed her. She recalled the first time she ever crossed these tracks and the man who had been waiting for her. She recalled the way he looked that day, his face wearing that slightly quizzical expression she had come to know meant he wanted to kiss her.

  But Tyler Grant stepped toward her that day wanting more than a kiss. He greeted her with a lie on his lips. The first of more than two months’ worth of lies.

  When a hand touched her from behind, Madolyn flinched, but it was only Goldie. “Don’t let ’em get your goat, Maddie.”

  “They’ve already gotten it, and eaten it.”

  “Not if you don’t let ’em,” Goldie insisted. “Come on, honey, let’s march down to the house an’ back. By then you’ll have thought of something.”

  “I’m fresh out of ideas, except the violent variety.”

  “You’ll think of something.” And with that the madam raised her voice in an improbable song.

  “Onward Christian Soldiers…”

  Her fellow marchers didn’t seem to notice the incongruity, for they joined the madam enthusiastically. Madolyn saw no recourse but to lead off down the street.

  Although a few of the more curious followed along the sides, most of the populace remained at the railroad tracks. Madolyn hadn’t opened her parasol, and when she made an about-face at the house, she saw that none of the others had, either.

  “Open your parasols, ladies. Hold them aloft. We shan’t be overcome.”

  “That’s the spirit, Maddie.” Goldie encouraged her from close at hand. Goldie, who had been such a support, such a friend. Madolyn made the mistake of looking into the madam’s kohl-lined eyes. Tears rushed to her own.

  She squeezed her lids.

  Goldie took her arm. “Don’t let him get you down, honey.”

  “I hate him.”

  “No, you don’t. You love him. And he loves you. But don’t let him goad you into givin’ up. We need you. Every woman here needs your support. Don’t let us down.”

  Madolyn listened and knew Goldie was right. Every woman here deserved to win. No man in either town should be let off the hook, not after the scorn they had shown these good women. Gradually, standing there among the others, her strength began to return, and with it her fighting spirit.

  “All right, ladies,” she called at length. “Plan B.”

  That was all it took. The women dug into reticules and pockets and sleeves, withdrawing little scraps of paper, which they passed forward to Madolyn.

  She held them as though they were holy, and indeed they were. Priceless, at least.

  “Follow me, ladies. I think we have heard the last sneer from this crowd.”

  Orderliness in the ranks gave way to chaos, but it was a controlled chaos, in which the women linked arms and sang and chanted and laughed, all at once. Sisters to the end, Madolyn thought, glancing back at the lovely scene, which momentarily distracted her from her own dilemma.

  She crossed the tracks and headed into Horn with never a look left or right. No sooner had she reached the Horn side, however, than a figure darted from the crowd.

  “Carlita?”

  “I have rights to march for, too.”

  Madolyn hugged her, and they marched on, arm and arm. Once Morley reached out to recapture Carlita, but she resisted and Madolyn’s bosom swelled. The time had come.

  Swinging a wide arc in the middle of the dusty Horn street, she headed back to the tracks. Upon drawing even with the two mayors, she halted her band with a pump of her parasol. As though she were offering a holy relic at an altar, she presented the stack of papers to Clyde Thompson, telling Buster Nunn, “You will want to peruse these, too, sir. They concern citizens on your side of Buckhorn, as well.”

  Mayor Thompson flipped through the stack. “What the hell is all this?”

  “Read some of them aloud,” Madolyn suggested. “No need to consider them private, they will be published in the Buckhorn News come morning.”

  “You’re one crazy lady,” Buster chimed in. “These don’t make any sense a’tall.”

  “What exactly do you not understand?” she quizzed in her most imperious tone.

  Clyde Thompson read the top slip. “I, Nancy Peebles, pledge not to clean another hotel room until my husband demands that Morley Sinclair and Tyler Grant reunite our towns.”

  “Nancy?” Henry Peebles squeaked from somewhere in the crowd. “My Nancy?”

  Buster Nunn read the next slip. “I, Frances Arndt, pledge not to prepare Sunday dinner again until my husband demands that Morley Sinclair and Tyler Grant reunite our towns.”

  “Frances?” the parson was heard to exclaim.

  Madolyn signaled her band. “Since we are familiar with the contents, Your Honors, we shall continue our demonstration.”

  Before Madolyn could lead the march forward again, however, Carlita stopped her with a hand to her arm. “I wasn’t able to write down my request,” she said. “I will tell Morley now. In front of these witnesses.”

  Madolyn was stunned. One look at Morley showed him to be more so. “Now hold on a cockeyed minute, Carlita—”

  But he was too late. In a soft voice that traveled only to those immediately present, Carlita made her will known. “I, Carlita Ramírez, pledge to move Morley Sinclair out of my home until we are properly married.”

  Morley’s mouth fell open. “Married?”

  “And until he promises to see our children educated.”

  Morley’s eyes narrowed on Madolyn. “This is all your doin’.”

  “I know.” She smiled, stepping off again. But the instant she set foot on Buck soil, Tyler intercepted her. He didn’t touch her but he might as well have knocked her down, for the impact she felt.

  She tilted her parasol forward, blocking eye contact. “I’ll thank you to step aside, sir.”

  He pushed it away. “Or you’ll what, Maddie? Take your parasol to me?”

  “I might, indeed. These ladies will back me up.”

  Tyler grinned. “Just what I need. Witnesses. Listen up, ladies, gents.”

  Before Madolyn realized what he was doing, Tyler caught her chin and tipped it, so she had to look him in the face. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Open your eyes, Maddie. I want you to look at me so you’ll see how serious I am, when I say what I came to town to say. I love you, Maddie Sinclair.”

  Her eyes flew open. Gasps and snickers and a sprinkling of applause erupted around them.

  “I love you. Now I’ve said it in front of all these witnesses. I’ll never take it back—”

  The women need you, she thought, furiously trying to regain her thoughts. The women need you. Madolyn repeated the litany, shutting out Tyler’s words, his face, calling on her expert training. She could not let the women down; she must stand firm.

  Acting suddenly, she sidestepped him. “Move aside, sir. We have work
to do. Ladies, one, two…” A chorus resounded behind her, but nothing could penetrate the thundering in her head.

  “Buckhorn reunited! Reunite it now! Buckhorn…”

  By the time they left the depot behind, Madolyn was quaking. But she couldn’t stop the march. Not now. Not at this crucial moment. The women depended on her. They deserved her very best. She picked up speed, led them the length of the once-united main street, past the saloons, past Goldie’s, and turning, past the schoolhouse.

  The schoolhouse, to which Loretta would return in the fall.

  Madolyn stomped the ground so hard dust flew from beneath her swaying skirts. She shouted the slogan loud enough that she could have been shouting at Tyler.

  No! No!

  Yes. Lord in heaven, yes.

  No. She must leave. She was afraid. She couldn’t take a chance.

  Yes. That’s what life was made of, chances.

  No.

  Yes.

  Rounding the depot on the opposite side, she came to a teetering stop inches from the tracks. As though directed by an unseen conductor, the chanting stopped. The women halted behind her. Around them, the crowd fell silent.

  Tyler stood before her. In the middle of the tracks. Still as her heart, which had ceased to beat. Before she knew what he was about, he grabbed her in a crushing embrace.

  “Are you crazy?” she mumbled. Was every humiliating battle in her life destined to be waged at this depot before a crowd of stunned citizens? Every wonderful…

  He lowered his face; she blinked back tears. When he kissed her she felt her knees buckle.

  “I love you, Maddie.”

  She could see it in his eyes.

  “You love me, too.”

  Lord in heaven, she did love him so.

  “I can’t give you up, Maddie. I won’t give you up. I’ll be good to you, that’s a promise. But if you can’t accept that right now, look around. Look at Goldie and Lucky and Loretta and Carlita. Look at all these ladies. They love you, too. They’d skin me alive if I ever hurt you. If you can’t believe me, trust them to protect you. Give me a chance, Maddie. Give me a chance to prove that I’ll love and respect and protect you from harm.”

  She fought tears, but they were tears of release. Not the release of her fears. She sensed that, even through the dizzying swells in her brain. But she suddenly knew she had to stop fighting him, and her heart.

  “I shall never give up my work…Tyler.”

  “So do it. I won’t stand in your way. Hell, you can organize all the women in America, if that’s what makes you happy. I’ll be your strongest supporter.”

  She grinned, flustered. She dared not look around, for she knew the townsfolk were gaping. And the women. What were they thinking? She, Madolyn Sinclair, avowed suffragette, standing here in the middle of the street in the arms of their arch-enemy.

  In the arms of the man she loved, the only man she would ever love. She felt that wonderful, warm glow spread outward.

  She pulled away, her chin tipped. “You’re right, Tyler, a lot of women need my help. All around the world—”

  He captured her face in his hands. “Not around the world. Not in Boston, either. Right here.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “This battle will soon be behind us.”

  He rolled his eyes, then turned serious again. “This is a growin’ land, Maddie.” His tone was grave, sincere. As he continued, she imagined him rehearsing the speech, practicing to make it better. Was he that determined to convince her? Pride swelled to bursting inside her heart.

  “The women out here need someone like you,” he said. “They need your leadership, your devotion to freedom and independence, your strength.” His loving eyes bore into hers. “And I need all that, too.”

  He kissed her then, so long and hard she felt like swooning, but this was no time to succumb to feminine impulses. When he lifted his face and gazed into her eyes, she had never felt so loved. She had never been so loved.

  “I need you, Maddie. For my wife.”

  She had thought herself past being stunned, but when Tyler released all but her hands and knelt before her on the railroad tracks, her head began to spin.

  “Madolyn Sinclair, secretary of the Boston Woman Suffrage Society, will you marry me and spend the rest of your life tryin’ to redeem my ornery soul?”

  Madolyn’s mouth fell open. Behind her, Carlita whispered, “Sí, Maddie, sí.”

  “Say yes, Maddie,” Tyler echoed. “Please, say yes. Hell, I know it won’t be easy. You a suffragette and me an ornery ol’ cowpoke. But we’ll make it. I love you, Maddie.”

  And with that, he rose and kissed her again. Right there in the middle of this divided town, surrounded by cheering men and women from both sides of the tracks.

  I love you, too, Tyler. The words thundered through her head. She didn’t speak them, she couldn’t. Not standing in the middle of the railroad tracks, surrounded by people.

  But he heard her. She watched him smile, relax, grin—a broad, wide, silly, wonderful grin. She didn’t speak the words; she didn’t even mouth them, but he heard. Heart to heart; mind to mind; soul to soul.

  And in that instant of pure communication, she knew she had made not only the right decision, but the only decision she could ever have made. For to walk away from Tyler would have been to walk away from life itself.

  Nineteen

  Tipping her chin a tad higher, just to let him know it wouldn’t be easy, not by a long shot, she smiled. “We’ll have to discuss this later, Tyler. The ladies and I have work to do.”

  “Damnation, Maddie, can’t you tell you’ve won?”

  “Won?” Madolyn glanced around the gathering. Her head still spun. Her body hummed. She wanted nothing more than to be carried away from here in Tyler’s arms. But she had work to do.

  And she wanted to savor the moment a while longer. She didn’t want to race through this magical moment; she wanted to savor it bit by bit—Tyler proclaiming his love in front of the whole town; Tyler’s pledge to be good and true; Tyler’s proposal.

  His proposal. Her heart fairly burst. She tried to keep the smile from her lips, but knew she only partially succeeded. Some demonstration this turned out to be. The men gained the upper hand at the beginning, and now they had sealed it.

  Yet, they did look somewhat sheepish, she noticed, huddled around the tracks to either side of their parasol-wielding wives.

  “You won, Maddie,” Tyler said again. “No use rubbin’ salt in the wound.”

  “Spoken like a true man,” she retorted. “Well, you won’t get off so easily.” She scanned the group, her attention focusing at length on the mayors who stood side by side, each holding a stack of ultimatums from the women of Buckhorn.

  “Gentlemen,” she called. “Mr. Grant says we’ve won. Are you prepared to meet our demands.”

  “This is a damned revolt,” someone murmured behind Tyler.

  “Just what you heathens deserve, bringin’ women to the West,” another man was heard to grouse. “They’ll henpeck a good man ’fore he has a chanct to defend hisself.”

  “Well?” Madolyn questioned. “What do you say, Mayors? Those are our terms. Please don’t doubt that we are prepared to back them up.”

  “I’ll vouch for that, Buster,” Tyler put in. “I’m just glad to have her on my side.”

  “If we find ourselves on the same side, sir, it’s because you came around to my way of thinking.”

  Tyler laughed. That deep, rollicking laugh that started in his belly and worked its way up.

  Madolyn stood a little straighter. It was all she could do to keep from laughing with him. The women had spread out behind her, however, committed to their leader and their cause.

  The mayors stepped forward.

  “What we want to know, Miss Sinclair, is if we side with our wives instead of with the gentlemen who own these towns, will you agree not to publish these terms in the newspaper?”

  “Indeed, we will.”

  “Do
we have your word?”

  “Now, hold on a cockeyed minute, Buster—”

  Madolyn placed a silencing hand on Tyler’s arm. “My word, sir, is not in question. First, we must be certain you have reunited the town. I’m afraid I’ll have to warn you…I speak for all of us, when I say your word is not enough.”

  “Not enough?”

  “No, indeed. Women have been lied to and cheated and subjugated for centuries. Please don’t ask us to take your word. We have history to show us the perils of such capitulation.”

  “Well, now…” The mayors studied each other from their respective sides of the tracks.

  “Guess we could shake and make up,” Buster suggested with a sideways glance at Tyler.

  “We could, but…” Clyde cast his gaze about the men on his side. Morley stepped up. His eyes were on Carlita. “Get on over here,” he ordered. “No need to air our linen in public.”

  Madolyn reached for his daughters. “Your linen is already aired. Carlita made her demand. Are you prepared to acquiesce?”

  “Acquiesce? You’ve picked up some mighty highfalutin words, Maddie. But yes, damnit, I’m gonna marry her.”

  “That wasn’t all.”

  “’Course I’ll see those kids educated.”

  Madolyn persisted. “Your proposal lacked—”

  Carlita interrupted her with a whispered, “Maddie, it’s all right. I understand him. He puts up a big front, but he’s just a soft ol’ pussycat at home.”

  That said, however, Carlita remained right where she stood. “Thank you, Morley. As soon as the town is reunited I’ll be happy to marry you.”

  “As soon as…! You women don’t give us much leeway.”

  “None whatsoever.” Madolyn glanced from her brother to Tyler. “I believe the next move is up to the two of you.”

  “Us?” Tyler turned his attention to his former partner. “Like hell it is.”

  “Damned right, Maddie,” Morley challenged. “You’ve gone too far this time. This fight is between Tyler and me.”

  “The whole town has suffered.” Madolyn looked to the mayors for confirmation. “I think the men on both sides are waiting to follow your lead. Go ahead and shake hands.”