by Lydia Olson
“Yes, you keep saying that, but your father seems to think something changed between you within this last month,” Wilson pressed. “He felt too badly about it to say what it was, but I could see that he’s upset at himself about it, and that he seems to be lashing out at you even still. And you’ve spoken nothing but fears and doubts about him since I arrived. Has he... hurt you...?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Eloise said. “Although, I do feel a great deal of hurt when I think about it, and I don’t dare speak of it. I’m sorry... I'm not ready to tell you.”
“That’s quite all right,” Wilson said. “I don’t mean to get into your personal matters; I just fear to learn that something bad has happened to your family, and that I did nothing to help.”
“Bad things happen to every family in Cayenne, these days,” Eloise told him. “I don’t know any family that has gone without losses and hardships since the railroad changed everything for us. This town used to be considered a wasteland, and now it seems everyone wants a share.”
“Maybe it’s about time this town changed, though; don’t you think?” Wilson said.
“Changed?” Eloise said, raising an eyebrow. “If you think pushing all the farmers out of their homes and letting strangers take them over is a change worth making, I don’t think you’re the right person to be able to help my family through our hardships.”
“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” said Wilson. “Can you forgive me?”
“Why do you hate this place so much?” Eloise wondered calmly. “You went away so suddenly, and now you come back speaking of how much you hate it, yet you came back? I don’t understand what this town ever did to you personally that would make you lose sight of it as your home.”
“I didn’t think I hated it,” Wilson explained. “I knew I hated where I was and what I had to do to survive here, but it wasn’t until I left that I realized this town and most everyone in it was looking out for themselves at the expense of all others. Your family was the only exception, and I took far too much from you and your father over the years because of that. I suppose I felt it was time I returned the favor.”
“Yes, you’ve said that before, but I still don’t understand,” Eloise pushed. “Is there not a feeling in your heart when you’re here that just makes it feel like home?”
“I suppose... I never thought of it that way,” Wilson said. “But then, you’ve always made me look at things differently, haven’t you?”
Wilson spun, swinging Eloise around with ease now that most of the dance floor was empty. Eloise giggled as she looked around, for the first time noticing that Maudie had gone inside and her father had gone home.
She could see Maudie in the saloon again, smiling and chatting with some of the Whiskey Girls. Ryan, on the other hand, stood exactly where he had been before. She couldn’t see it from under his mask, but she felt as if he was glaring at her and Wilson.
“Does Ryan look angry to you?” Eloise asked, stopping Wilson from spinning her again.
“Ryan?” Wilson looked over his shoulder. “Oh! I didn’t even see him there!”
“But does he look angry...?” Eloise repeated.
“Um...” he said thoughtfully. “I dunno, even with his mask, he does seem a bit different than normal, but I couldn’t say if he’s angry or if he’s just had a bit too much to drink. I haven’t seen Ryan drunk before, so it’s hard for me to tell what he’s thinking – wearing a mask, no less.”
“Well, I have, and I think he’s angry,” Eloise told him. “Do you think he knows who we are?”
“I would think so – a mask can only hide so much about a person,” said Wilson. “And another thing – what’s going on between you and him? He seems to get angry with you frequently. And when he showed up at the ranch the other day, you seemed nervous he would do something dreadful.”
“Oh, you know how he gets,” Eloise said, laughing nervously. “I just wondered if maybe he’s, uh, upset that we haven’t said hello to him yet. Maybe he’s had his feelings hurt...?”
“Shall we greet him, then?” Wilson suggested, tugging on Eloise’s hand.
“No!” Eloise said, letting go of his hand. “Uh... I just... I don’t want him to spoil the night either. But I would like to go inside and say thank you to Maudie before I go.”
“Then let’s go speak with her instead, shall we?” he proposed, taking her hand again.
Eloise watched Ryan from the corner of her eye as Wilson led her inside the saloon. His head turned and eyes followed them as they entered, but otherwise, he didn’t budge.
She looked over her shoulder as they approached Maudie, but it looked like Ryan didn’t follow them inside. Something about his behavior made Eloise nervous, but she tried not to spoil her mood by thinking too much of it. Wilson was the only one she wanted to think about tonight.
“Ellie?” Wilson asked, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Oh, sorry – I was lost in my own thoughts. What happened?” she said.
“Miss Maudie was just saying how lovely you look,” Wilson prompted.
“I sure was; because you do,” Maudie said. “Wow, I just can’t believe how well you turned out. That dress against your hair – oh, it just looks amazing! And how did your... little test go...?”
“Oh dear, it seems I was having too much fun and forgot about that,” Eloise admitted. “I’ll have to let you know how it goes, if I ever get around to it.”
“Remember what I told you,” Maudie advised, putting her hands on her hips. “The facts of life...”
“What’s this test you need done, Miss Maudie?” Wilson wondered, thinking they were speaking of testing out equipment. “Because my room is just upstairs, and I don’t have much else to do this week. Maybe I could help you and Ellie take care of that?”
“I think so,” Miss Maudie said, laughing loudly. “Oh, I do think you could!”
Eloise turned instinctively to hide her blush, even though the mask and rouge in her cheeks would’ve hidden it anyway. Once again, Wilson was the only one left out of the loop.
Miss Maudie laughed some more, but never explained what the test was. Before Wilson got the chance to ask again, Maudie was called away by the Whiskey Girls to help the musicians put their things away, and Eloise was left alone with him once more.
“I think she’s had enough to drink, don’t you?” Wilson said, staring at Miss Maudie.
“Oh, I don’t think that was all about the drinking,” Eloise explained. “She finally got that dance with my daddy tonight, and she’s had a long day helping me get ready. I think she’s probably just happy she had a good time, and proud of herself for turning me into this.”
“Yes, you are quite something tonight,” confessed Wilson, softly. “I don’t mean to say only tonight – you’ve always been lovely – but the way you look tonight, it’s absolutely stunning.”
“Oh, uh, thank you kindly,” she said. “And you look something like royalty yourself.”
“What? No,” Wilson said. “If anything, I look like a footman for a wealthy home – but nothing like the royalty themselves. Why would I ever want to look like them, anyway? I’m very proud to have made my own wealth, and not been born into it. There's something to be said about a self-made man these days, and it’s become the most difficult thing to do for a man out West.”
“I’ve tried to tell Daddy that, too,” Eloise told him. “But he doesn’t want to believe it. He thinks that being born into wealth is the highest honor, and what he does for a living is nothing greater than service. I don’t understand how he can think that way about what he’s built.”
“Well, your father wasn’t born into this time – and he wasn’t even born into this country, was he?” Wilson pointed out. “They have a very different way of thinking, back in England. At least, so I’ve heard. Besides, you were born into something, and if he doesn’t recognize it, at least you do.”
“Well, I was born into something, but I have no say where it goes ne
xt,” Eloise said. “After my father passes away, everything I’ve ever known will have to go to someone else – a man. And that’s if the land lasts that long... and they don’t say anything about self-made women these days – I would’ve ended up with absolutely nothing if I tried to do what you did.”
“Well, now, you’re awfully sullen for how lovely this night has been,” Wilson said. “Perhaps I haven’t been doing my job correctly; forgive me. Come, what can I do to make the evening more enjoyable for you? What can I do which will make you completely forget the things that have got you in a twist, and make right now the only thing you can possibly think of?”
“I... don’t know...” Eloise stammered, blushing.
“There must be something,” Wilson said, leaning in closer to her.
“Uh...” she replied, looking around to be sure Ryan wasn’t watching them again.
As she gazed around the room, she noticed that Maudie and a couple other men were eyeing them closely, but Ryan was nowhere to be seen. Wilson seemed to notice the same thing, because he took her by the hand and led her back toward the door. From the door, she could see that Ryan was no longer leaning against the building. Hopefully, she thought, he had gone home.
“Where are you taking me?” Eloise asked, following Wilson to the now empty street outside.
“You’ll see,” he said. “But I think you’ll like it.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryan sat in the dark, in the back alley behind the Saint George Hotel.
He’d meant to go home hours ago, but it was hard for him to watch Eloise dance the night away with Wilson and imagine what else might happen between them if he wasn’t there to prevent it. The way Ryan remembered their childhood, Wilson was always tricking Eloise into activities which led to all three of them getting in trouble. So many years since, and it seemed their old friend hadn’t changed.
As the stars twinkled in the sky, Ryan thought of the shimmer of Eloise’s dress when she danced. She’d looked absolutely stunning, he thought.
He had envisioned so many ways that he might have asked her to dance, if it wasn’t for Wilson. Nobody else danced with Eloise because of him. Now more than ever, it was obvious to Ryan that he and Wilson were only ever friends because they shared a mutual respect for Eloise.
If it hadn’t been for her, Ryan might’ve never entertained Wilson at all.
“I’m sure he’ll leave her behind again,” Ryan muttered to himself. “Just like the last time.”
Ryan couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about their childhood. Eloise was much too young to understand some of the events that had transpired when Wilson had left, and he felt it was his duty to protect her from the likes of the drunkard’s son. One night in particular, Ryan remembered hiding behind a water trough while a young Wilson had argued with Mr. Hastings.
“We’ve provided for you plenty,” Dillion had said. “Now, I would hope that you have learned from this experience and will not ask anything more of me than what I willingly give you in the future.”
“Yes, and please don’t misunderstand me – I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And I know you’ve done more than enough for my father,” Wilson had said. “But I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t absolutely dire. I just need a few more dollars, and I will make the rest myself, I swear.”
“I’m sorry, my boy,” Dillion had said sternly. “You’ve heard my answer.”
“Can you not even spare two bits?” Wilson had pleaded, clasping his hands together.
“You’ve heard my answer.”
“If that’s your answer, then don’t let me see you mourning for him when he’s gone,” Wilson muttered, turning his back on Dillion.
Ryan had watched as Wilson ran away from the stables and toward the family home. Dillion had sighed, stared at the ground, and rested his hands on his belt. He’d stood there for quite some time, periodically wiping sweat from his brow or scoffing at his own thoughts. When Dillion finally finished contemplating, he returned into the stable, allowing Ryan to emerge from his hiding place.
Ryan had snuck passed the stables and toward the house, but by the time he’d gotten near it, he could see Eloise and her brother returning from their work in the fields. Wilson had probably spoken with them and then returned to town to be with his father, Ryan thought. He had heard Wilson’s father was ill, and he knew that it was likely what the argument was about.
As he’d walked back to his property, Ryan had been startled when he’d noticed Wilson standing up the road between the two properties. He was counting what appeared to be coins in his palm. The moment Wilson saw Ryan, he gasped and quickly shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
“What was that?” Ryan had asked.
“Nothing,” Wilson had said, glaring at him. “What’s it to ya?”
“I heard you asking Mr. Hastings for money,” Ryan told him. “What do you need money for if you’ve already got a handful of coins in your pocket?”
“Hey, I won these fair and square!” Wilson pulled his fist out of his pocket and shook it in the air.
“How did you win them?” Ryan had said.
“I won them off of someone... but that’s none of your business,” his friend had said.
“What does that mean?” Ryan yelled.
Without answering, Wilson had rolled his eyes and turned his back to him. Ryan rolled his eyes, too, as Wilson took off running up the road toward town.
It took several hours to get into town on foot, so Ryan expected he would see Wilson again soon. He never made it past the McKinnon family home before he needed to stop for water, and always begged Ryan for some. To Ryan’s surprise, when he got back to his home, Wilson was nowhere to be seen.
For once, it seemed, he didn’t stop running.
The next morning, the Hastings’ and the McKinnon’s men continued to work together to stake the boundary for a fence between the two properties. Ryan and Edison worked with the men, while Eloise and her father helped herd the cattle away from the border. As they worked, Ryan overheard some of the Hastings’ men talking about an incident from the previous day.
“How much was there?” one man had said.
“Not much – maybe a few dollars’ worth of coins?” the other had said.
Ryan furrowed his brow and looked at Edison, who was shoveling dirt a few feet away from him. Edison looked up at him, over at the men, and then back at Ryan. Sighing, Edison put down his shovel, walked right up next to Ryan, and put his hand up to whisper in his ear.
“They heard someone stole money from the family home last night,” Edison had said.
“What? When?” Ryan whispered back.
“We don’t know. All we know is, Daddy put some money in a box for Jay Dale to take to town to get some supplies, and when he opened it up yesterday night to prepare for his trip – that was supposed to be this morning – the money was missing,” he’d said.
“You think one of the men stole it?” Ryan whispered.
“The men don’t go in the family home,” Edison had pointed out. “What’s more, Jay Dale said the only people he saw go into the house before the end of the work day was me, Will, and Ellie. And I know I didn’t do it.”
“Will...” Ryan had repeated, wide-eyed. “I heard Wilson asking your daddy for money yesterday – and Will got mad when your daddy said no. And the men said it was coins that got stolen, right? Well, Wilson was counting coins on the road yesterday, and he hid them from me soon as I saw him!”
“I knew he liked to cause problems, but I didn’t think he was a thief,” Edison had said. “You sure that wasn’t just the money he won off his bad habit?”