Cheyenne Captive

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  Summer helped Mrs. O’Malley dress Mother in soft pink before selecting a blue velvet gown for herself. Much laughing and joking prevailed as the party gathered in around the tree. A Christmas tree was still a novelty to most Americans except for the German immigrants who had brought the custom with them. But when Albert, Queen Victoria’s German husband, took the custom to England, it quickly spread throughout the richer class and crossed the ocean.

  The huge fir dominated the center of the music room with its scent and greenery. Summer played carols on the harp while they all sang. The portly, florid Mr. Shaw read The Night Before Christmas with gusto. Everyone else strung cranberries and hung the delicate German decorations. Finally the tree was finished and lit with dozens of small candles that cast a yellow glow out the windows and flickered on the snow drifts.

  It was so beautiful that everyone exclaimed in wonder and even Angela seemed in a friendly mood.

  Evans came in just then. “Dinner is served!” he announced rather grandly.

  Lights glimmered from the chandelier over the long dining table. The snowy damask cloth shone white under Mother’s best china, that with the pink and burgundy roses around the rim.

  Each gentleman seated a lady and Summer muttered under her breath, struggling with the hoop under the full skirt.

  Austin’s paunchy, red-faced father, Robert, sat to Mother’s right, across from Summer who sat to her left. Austin sat next to Summer. Tiny, birdlike Mrs. Shaw sat to Father’s right with Todd across from her. The others were scattered alternately up and down the table.

  David gave Summer a quick wink and she winked back, both noting that Father had carefully arranged the seating so that Maude Peabody sat next to David.

  “Isn’t this a great party?” Mother asked a little too loudly and almost knocked her wineglass over with an unsteady hand.

  Summer caught it before it spilled and ignored the murderous look Father flashed from his end of the table. She could only hope Priscilla hadn’t seen it.

  Priscilla reminded Summer of a gentle, lovely, slightly befuddled dove. In contrast, her distant cousin, Elizabeth Shaw, moved in quick motions like the vicious little shrike bird, the one that impales its victims on a thorn bush.

  The big grandfather clock in the entry started its deep chiming. Father pulled out his pocket watch and frowned. “Half a minute out of time,” he snapped to no one in particular. “We always sit down at exactly six o’clock.” Then he picked up his goblet of white wine and stood. “I propose a toast!” he announced.

  Everyone raised his glass and looked toward the hawklike man expectantly.

  “Here’s to Christmas of 1858 and to the New Year ahead! Here’s to our children! May they prosper and add many generations to our table and more wealth to our families!”

  “Hear! Hear!” Everyone lifted their glasses and drank.

  The pointed hints were not lost on Summer as she rolled the dry, tart wine on her tongue and watched Evans enter with the silver tureen of rich turtle soup.

  Robert Shaw smiled expansively across the table as he attacked the soup. “We’re all so glad you’re home, Summer.”

  “I’m happy to be home,” she lied as she watched Maude gobble the soup. Her friend was a kind, generous person but she would never be able to buy the class she craved with all her father’s money.

  “I’m so glad you invited Father and me to join you,” Maude gushed as she slurped the last drop.

  Father smiled expansively at the girl. “The pleasure is ours, Miss Peabody. I’m sure we’d like your company more often, wouldn’t we, David?”

  “What? Oh, yes, of course!” David blurted and Summer tried hard to keep a straight face as David said lamely, “Why, Miss Peabody, what an—interesting gown you’re wearing tonight.”

  Summer glanced at it, thinking the poor girl did have the most unfortunate habit of choosing clothes that made her sallow complexion look worse. The scarlet taffeta gave her the overall appearance of a barn on fire.

  “Thank you.” Maude smiled modestly.

  Mr. Shaw looked down the table toward Maude. “It’s those new aniline dyes we have in the textile industry now. Ladies don’t have to wear pale colors anymore, they can all wear bright hues and look just like Miss Peabody!”

  Maude reddened at the compliment as David began to cough into his napkin.

  “Were you about to say something, son?” Father demanded as he glared.

  “Well, no.” David coughed and Summer suppressed a grin. “I was about to say, sir, that it is a wonder what is being invented these days.”

  “You can say that again, young man.” Mr. Peabody’s hand shook as he dipped the rich soup. “Why, who would have ever believed they would lay that transatlantic cable so the Queen of England could send a message to our President!”

  “Humph!” Mr. Shaw snorted. “Dang thing broke down after three weeks! I don’t know if I can see any sense to this telegraph thing.”

  “Now, Father,” Todd argued, “you’ve got to move with the times! They say in a few more years, they’ll have that wire all the way to California!”

  “Exactly!” His father crowed. “Why would anybody in their right mind want to contact California? Except for the gold strike, the whole place is worthless! Know what they’re doing now? Importing camels to haul freight!”

  “Now, Robert,” Mrs. Shaw said firmly with a quick, birdlike gesture, “if Todd thinks it’s a good idea, I want you to buy stock tomorrow.”

  Summer saw Austin scowl slightly and felt sorry for him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never replace his younger brother as his mother’s favorite. It seemed sad since Austin so obviously craved her favor.

  She glanced at Todd as he ate. He was everything his brother was not: popular, dashing, more handsome, gregarious. Women were always drawn to him and, in truth, at one time he had made Summer’s heart flutter a little. But he never hung around with the other three because they were perhaps too dull and serious for him. Besides, she had soon realized that he lacked Austin’s sincerity and depth.

  Her attention came back to Father as he peered down the table. “Well, I think you’re right, Robert. Everything west of the Mississippi is just a desolate wasteland.”

  “Oh, but it’s not!” Summer protested before she thought. “There’s lots of hills, sparkling water, and green trees. It’s so big, you can’t imagine how uncluttered and beautiful it is!” She realized suddenly that all eyes were turned toward her and her wistful description. Until now, she hadn’t fully realized how much she loved the wild wilderness that she would never see again.

  Evans entered at that moment with a large, roast goose and a great tenderloin of beef and started to serve, diverting everyone’s attention.

  “Well,” said Todd, “I’m glad to hear a firsthand opinion that the West isn’t such a terrible place! I’ve made a decision to join up with the Massachusetts Immigration Society’s next group headed for Kansas right after Christmas!”

  For a moment, in the shocked silence, Summer thought Elizabeth Shaw might really faint. She gasped and fanned herself with her napkin. Immediately Austin was up out of his chair, rushing to her side.

  “Really, Todd!” he scolded as he pulled her smelling salts from her chatelaine that was pinned to her dress and waved them under her nose. “You should be ashamed to upset Mother so!”

  “I’m not upset!” the woman declared grimly, taking another whiff of the smelling salts. “After all, I have been a leader in the fight to get antislavery people to move there so we can outvote the other side! The Shaws have donated a great deal of money to help the Reverend Beecher send both bibles and rifles to Kansas. Sending a son is an even bigger commitment to this holy cause!”

  Maude sighed and rolled her eyes. “I think it’s an utterly romantic and idealistic thing to do! Perhaps I should consider being a pioneer. But do I have to miss the New Year’s ball to do it?”

  David was right, Summer thought as she took a mouthful of the savory roa
st beef. The girl really did have the brains of Grandmother’s spaniel.

  “I’ve had the idea for a long time, actually,” Todd explained as he helped himself to the roast goose and vegetables. “Ever since last year when that wool buyer from Ohio was here in Boston for the big, antislavery rally.”

  Angela had been sitting quietly all this time slipping bits of food off her plate to the cat under her chair. “You mean the man with the eyes like coals and the beard like Moses?”

  “Oh, I remember him now that you describe him.” Maude paused in shoveling in food. “He had a common name like Smith.” She thought a moment. “Brown, that was it. John Brown.”

  “Yes, that’s him!” Todd’s hazel eyes sparkled. “He really set everyone on fire with his zeal, didn’t he? I think if the South doesn’t yield on this, we’ll have war!”

  “The furor over that Kansas-Nebraska Bill combined with the Fugitive Slave Act is certainly pushing our side that direction.” Mrs. Shaw waved Austin away and he returned to his chair.

  “Well, just in case,” Robert Shaw said, his florid jaws chomping like a bulldog, “I’ve already started stockpiling cotton for my mills from the big plantations. The St. Clairs and some of their cousins down in Georgia and Tennessee are working closely with me on this. If we do go to war, I won’t be able to get cotton up the river and my mills will be in trouble.”

  “I’ve been thinking about expanding my own investments.” Father pushed back his empty plate. “The whales can’t last forever and I understand some fellow named Drake has been over in Pennsylvania looking for something called petroleum. I may contact him.”

  Mr. Peabody cackled as he finished his beef. “The market’s been a little slow because of the panic last year, but it looks to me gunpowder and munitions factories might be a wise thing to put money in right now.”

  “With the shape this country’s in,” Mr. Shaw wiped his expansive jaws, “what we need is another Whig president.”

  “There is no more Whig party, Robert.” Elizabeth Shaw used a tone one would take to a rather stupid child.

  “I know that! That’s why the country’s in the shape it’s in! I don’t think that new party, the Republicans, will ever make a go of it.”

  David leaned back in his chair and looked at the rich nut cake and coffee the butler placed before him. “You didn’t think much of that fellow who just lost the Senate race in Illinois last month?”

  “Hah!” Father snorted as he dug into the cake. “That gawky, ugly nobody! That’s his second loss running for the same office! You’d think Lincoln would realize he has no talent for politics and go back to his piddling law practice!”

  Summer sighed and sipped her coffee, barely tasting the rich, brandied cake. Had conversations at this table always been so much wrangling? Of course they had.

  “Well,” said Maude, looking up and down the table as if to make sure she was the center of attention, “if I can’t be a pioneer, I may decide to do what my friend Louisa May Alcott says she is going to do in case of war.”

  She had everyone’s attention now.

  “Which is?” Summer prompted, holding her breath.

  “Well, we’re talking of going to the front and helping our brave boys in uniform by being nurses!”

  Summer thought for a moment Mr. Peabody might drop his coffee cup. “No daughter of mine is going to do something as scandalous as that!”

  “Miss Alcott is not getting any younger,” Father said icily. “It might behoove that strong-minded spinster to spend her energy looking for a husband which she certainly won’t find after getting involved in such a dubious field as nursing.”

  “Louisa May intends to support herself by writing books!” Maude retorted with such spirit that Summer suddenly admired her.

  “Books!” Father wiped his mouth and threw down his napkin. “Who’d buy a book by a woman?”

  “That’s exactly what you said when Mrs. Stowe came out with Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” Summer snapped, throwing down the gauntlet to him verbally.

  Father glowered at her and she held her breath. But before the battle could go any further, Mother came out of her fog and stood up. Naturally, all the gentlemen scrambled to their feet.

  “I think the ladies will retire to the music room,” she announced loftily with the slightest glance of congratulations at Summer. “I’m sure the gentlemen are ready for their cigars and brandy anyway.”

  “In the music room, each lady accepted a glass of sherry as Summer poured and they sat in the glow of the Christmas candles and opened gifts.

  Coaldust prowled about like a small, menacing panther, climbing the tree, tearing ribbons from packages. Maude tried to pick him up to pet him and he snarled and scratched her, running under a desk to hide.

  Angela snickered and Mother said, “I’m sorry, Maude, at times, animals do reflect their owner’s personalities.”

  The child glared back at Priscilla and her look made Summer shiver. She was not really a child at all, had never been. Angela was a spiteful, cruel adult trapped in a child’s body.

  “Here’s gifts for everyone!” Summer put in quickly, passing the rare oranges around while everyone exclaimed in delight and reached for the gifts Summer handed out. There was a magnificent blue sapphire necklace for Summer from her parents. She expressed delight although she knew someone in Father’s office had no doubt chosen it for her. Mother seldom went out and Father couldn’t ever be bothered with such small details. There was also expensive jewelry for Mother, no doubt purchased the same way.

  Angela tore into her packages in a greedy frenzy and held up a wooden mallet with puzzlement. “What is this? A joke?”

  Her pouty little face clouded and Summer held her breath, wondering if they were about to be treated to one of the child’s kicking, screaming tantrums.

  “My goodness!” Maude gushed, visibly impressed. “A croquet set! What a lucky girl you are! That’s the new game that’s so popular in England. They say it will soon be all the rage here!”

  Mother nodded vaguely. “I do remember Silas saying he was having a great deal of trouble getting one of his employees in London to track the game down and get it on a clipper so it would arrive in time for Christmas.”

  The child looked a little less sullen, obviously pleased that she had put someone to a great deal of trouble. “What do I do with it?”

  She swung the mallet wildly and Summer grabbed the crystal wine decanter to keep the mallet from smashing it.

  “Well,” said Maude with enthusiasm, “I’ve never played it, of course, but I think you are supposed to put those little wire things out on the lawn and knock those wooden balls through them. Just thing how much fun we will have out on the lawn next spring with it.”

  Summer yawned in spite of herself. “Sounds a little dull to me.” She picked up the decanter and poured another glass for Mrs. Shaw.

  “I suppose it’s at least a game women can play,” Mother said, holding out her goblet unsteadily for a refill. “There’s so few sports that are ladylike enough that men would approve or that women could actually do in a tight corset and hoop skirts.”

  With a sigh, Summer gently took the goblet from Mother’s shaking hand and set it on the desk. One more and there would be a terrible fuss later. By not refilling Priscilla’s goblet, perhaps she could protect her from Father’s wrath.

  Mrs. Shaw regarded Summer with satisfaction. “Now, Summer, I’ve been thinking about Austin’s and your wedding.”

  “You’re a trifle premature,” Summer said shortly as she reached for a piece of candy. “Austin has not asked me to marry him.”

  “Oh, I’ve spoiled the surprise!” Her hand went to her mouth with a quick gesture of feigned dismay. “But of course he’s going to ask you! I’ll admit I was a little uneasy about it last summer when he mentioned it since I thought you might be a little-shall we say, too spirited for him. But I’ve reconsidered.”

  Summer regarded her coldly. “Even my father would be the first to
admit a little spirit in either a woman or a saddle horse is not all bad!”

  “Touche!” said Mother.

  In the sudden silence, Summer and Mrs. Shaw studied each other like two opponents and Summer saw respect in the other’s eyes. The woman knew a worthy adversary when she saw one. Summer could best her on all fronts and she seemed to know it.

  Mrs. Shaw seemed to decide to ignore the remark. “Anyway, Austin and I have discussed the honeymoon and I told him Nahant at the seashore was the fashionable place to go right now since it will be a June wedding. A grand tour of Europe was more what I had in mind, but the war department might take a dim view of Austin leaving for six months with all this war talk.”

  Summer smiled a little too sweetly. “I’m sure you know someone in high office who could pull the right strings and aren’t you kind to plan both my wedding and honeymoon and save me all that bother!”

  Mother looked both amused and troubled. It occurred to Summer that Mother didn’t really like her cousin at all.

  “Why don’t we sing some more carols?” Maude said a little desperately, rushing to the piano. She played very badly but it broke the tension for the rest of the evening.

  Todd Shaw left for Kansas right after Christmas, not even waiting for the Shaw’s annual ball. The weather was none too good but he said the group wanted to get out there and get themselves organized so as to be ready for early spring planting. The settlers would be dependent on their crops to survive the next year. Summer wondered if he were all that interested in Kansas or just trying to get away from his mother.

  Then it was New Year’s Eve. Summer had chosen her dress with great care, knowing there would be dozens of people there she hadn’t seen since her return who would inspect her curiously. The dressmaker created a gown of yellow satin that complemented her light hair. The skirt was so full over the hoop that she thought she might have trouble getting through doorways. The neckline was cut low to show off her smooth shoulders and the soft swell of her creamy breasts. The pale blue satin sash accented her small waist and was just the color of the sapphire necklace which reflected her blue eyes.

 

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