Contract to Wed (10 page)

My husband, Maximillian Shelby, is a successful rancher
and oil man. My new home is spacious and grand in a lovely area near the city
of Dallas, Texas. Maximillian is handsome and well-respected and is in the
midst of running for a U. S. Senate seat. But more than all of that, he is
exceptionally kind, courteous, and genuinely concerned for others, including
myself. He is also the father of a twelve-year-old girl named Melinda. She is a
bit of a trial, having had little discipline and her father’s doting attention,
but she is already stunning in looks, much like Jillian was at her age,
although Melinda is dark-haired.

Every time I reread your letter, I am struck by the words
you wrote when you said that even after having taken Jillian to South Dakota,
you were still unhappy and resentful. I must admit that I feel similarly. I
truly do not believe I have reason to be wary and on my guard here. But I am. I
continue to be unhappy as hard as Maximillian tries to make me comfortable, and
now that I have been able to experience some peace, I would like to lower my
guard. To relax and perhaps begin a new chapter of my life away from censure
and judgments, but it is difficult having been reared under mother’s roof.

Do you remember Grandmother Crawford? You would have been
quite young at the time of her death. I’ve been thinking about her lately. I am
convinced that I have truly loved only two people in my life, her and Little
William, and I am not sure I am capable of loving again, or more than that, or maybe
even at all any more. But I am very glad to know that you love and are loved.
It is comforting to know that one of the Crawford girls is capable of it
although I know Jennifer has remained warm-hearted even bearing the brunt of
Mother’s wrath on her own. I have even considered asking her to come to Texas
for an extended visit.

Please give my regards to your husband and children. And
if it is a comfort, Mother was unable to speak from the soup course until the
cheese and fruit had been served on the evening that I dined with her and
father and Jennifer and told them of my plans to move to Texas and marry
Maximillian. She barely communicated with me from then until the day I was to
board the train. She made a special trip to Landonmore to tell me that I was an
embarrassment to her and Father and that town was abuzz with my social demise. She
said you and I were cowardly fools, incapable of managing ourselves, and that,
undoubtedly, we would both be scurrying home to her at some point soon. I told
her that the least foolish of us all was you, as you had managed an escape and
a reckoning with your past, something that Mother and I were apparently
incapable of doing.

Jolene

Jolene folded the letter, addressed it, and went downstairs
just as Maria came to tell her that Mrs. McCabe was at the door and asking for
her.

“Mrs. McCabe,” Jolene said as she met the woman in the
entranceway.

“Mrs. Shelby,” she replied. “I have the gown completed that
you ordered, and I am sorry it took so long. I ordered lace from New York City,
but when it arrived I was not satisfied and had to come up with an alternative.
I hope you like.”

Jolene waited while her gown was unwrapped. Melinda came
down the hallway.

“Who is at the door, Jolene? May I skip some of the
arithmetic? Ooh,” she said as she saw Jolene’s gown. “It is gorgeous.”

Jolene touched the neckline of the dress and looked at
Melinda. “It is a rather beautiful, is it not?”

“I found a woman in Dallas who hand-twists fringe. I think
it turned out excessively well and outshines any lace I could have found,” Mrs.
McCabe said.

“That’s fine,” Jolene heard Maximillian say as he walked
through the double doors. One of Mrs. McCabe’s assistants was hovering beside
him.

“It is no trouble, Mr. Shelby,” the assistant said. “I will
carry the packages.”

Maximillian looked at Jolene and Melinda with a smile. “I
see more fancy stuff has arrived for the two prettiest girls in the county.”

Maximillian shifted the packages under his arm, and the
string broke on one of them. A long piece of sheer cream-colored fabric
slithered to the floor. Maximillian picked it up and held it in front of him.
Jolene’s eyes widened, and Mrs. McCabe made a grab for the fabric.

“What’s that, Daddy? You can almost see through it,” Melinda
asked.

Jolene took the lingerie from Maximillian’s grasp, and Mrs.
McCabe picked up the the paper packaging.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Shelby,” Mrs. McCabe whispered.

“There is nothing to be sorry about,” Jolene said. “Everything
looks just right.”

“And in plenty of time for the Cattlemen’s Ball,” Mrs.
McCabe said.

Maximillian looked at her with a wry smile. “Something new
to wear on the night of the ball, Jolene?”

She knew her face reddened, but there was nothing to be done
about it. “Come along, Mrs. McCabe. I will see to it that you are paid.” She
could hear Maximillian laugh as she led the women to her office.

* * *

“I am watching you, Melinda,” Jolene
said as she stood at the fence of the corral later that week. “Continue on.”

“So you finally gave in,” Max said as he walked up beside
his wife.

Jolene did not take her eyes from Melinda as she rode Daisy.
“I did. I am not sure why she is so concerned with me seeing her ride, but it
does seem very important to her. I try to make a point of watching her progress
once a week.”

“Don’t you remember as a little girl wanting your momma to
kiss every scraped knee and see every little thing you were doing? I remember
mushing up worms and putting their guts in a jar and taking them to my mother,”
Max said with a laugh. “She was green from me pointing out all the worm parts,
but she patted my head and told me I was such a smart boy.”

“We did not scrape our knees, other than Julia, of course,”
Jolene said. “And no matter what success we shared with Mother, she found some
small detail to focus on and criticize.”

Max leaned against the fence and tilted back his hat. “Maybe
there’s a compromise in there somewhere between my mother saying everything was
wonderful and yours saying, well, saying the opposite.”

Jolene looked up at him and shaded her eyes. “I suppose you
are right although I believe that even criticism can be shared in a way that
doesn’t diminish the receiver.”

“I hear how you speak to Melinda,” Max said. “She hangs on
every word you say to her.”

Max listened intently to his wife and daughter’s
conversations. Jolene never smiled and did not gush praise although she was
quick to point out when Melinda had learned something new or was following
directions well. But he’d also listened when he knew they didn’t think he could
hear. Jolene would mention to Melinda when she was doing her reading incorrectly
or when Melinda was not sitting up straight or when his daughter was impolite.
She spoke privately and quietly to Melinda and explained why she was wrong and
sometimes ended by saying she thought that Melinda was capable of doing much
better, that she had the intelligence and some natural abilities to rise above
the mediocre.

“I have not always been judicious in my criticisms. In
truth, I was much feared by my staff and by others in my sphere in Boston. I
have consciously tried to change and worried it was too late. My move here gave
me a chance to begin again, though.”

“Feared by your staff? I can hardly imagine that,” Max said.
“You don’t threaten me or Melinda, and while I think the staff is more formal
with you than with me, I don’t get the sense they are afraid of you.”

“I am glad to hear that, Maximillian,” she said quietly. “I had
a taste of unfounded superiority after my first husband died. I felt it was
long past time that I quit proving my worth on the backs of those around me as
my mother had done. I was turning into her, you see. You have no idea what a
momentous undertaking it has been. Although I do find myself slipping back when
I am angry or upset.”

“You are an amazing woman, Jolene,” Max said, and he meant
it.

Jolene looked up at him sharply and then looked away just as
fast. “No need to coddle me. I can be as cruel and conniving as my mother ever
was, if not more.”

“One thing I know for certain,” Max said with a smile and
leaned in close to her. “You sure have trouble taking compliments, but I
imagine that has to be learned, too.” He pulled her into his arms and when she
protested that everyone could see them, he shouted as he spun her around. “Mrs.
Shelby! You are beautiful and thoughtful, and I am glad you married me!”

Ranch hands were yahooing, and Melinda rode over to them.
She jumped down from Daisy and came through the gate.  “You’re
embarrassing Jolene,” she said. “It’s not nice to embarrass a lady.”

Max put Jolene on her feet and picked up Melinda and swung
her around and kissed her nose. “And here’s a pretty little lady that used to
be a ragamuffin!”

Melinda was laughing and hanging on to him. When he set her
down, she looked up at Jolene and sobered. “Oh. I shouldn’t laugh and holler
like that, should I?”

“It is fine to be jolly and silly on occasion, and what
better time than when your father hugs you and teases you.”

Jolene hadn’t smiled but she looked up at him shyly. With
little forethought, Max found himself wishing he was privy to the inner turmoil
that tormented his wife. He thought it would be good for her to speak her
troubles out loud and let him take them from her. Let him handle the demons
that haunted her. Her happiness grew more important to him every day.

* * *

“Mrs. Shelby?” Alice said when
Jolene came through the door to her rooms.

“Yes, Alice?”

“I am laying out what we will need to take with us on
Saturday, ma’am. Will you be needing anything formal for Sunday morning?”

The Cattlemen’s Ball was in two days and Jolene had refused
to think about staying in a hotel room with Maximillian, although she would
admit to herself that he was at the back of her mind the day she ordered the
sheer lingerie Mrs. McCabe had delivered. She loved luxurious, feminine fabrics
for her underthings and sleepwear, but she’d also pictured Maximillian looking
at her in them.
She must stop this!
She must stop imagining that their
relationship might be sexual in nature. There. She’d admitted to herself that
she wondered what it would be like to have Maximillian loom over her and have
his way with her body. But she also found she thought about touching him. About
what it would be like to put her mouth . . .

“Mrs. Shelby?”

Jolene gave her head a shake. “No, Alice. We won’t be doing
anything formal on Sunday morning, but I do imagine we’ll be eating at the
hotel and perhaps saying our goodbyes to others who may be staying there as
well. Something dressy but not formal, I would think. What about the pale green
linen?”

“I will pack it, ma’am, and will also need to know what
jewelry you would like to take.”

“The pearl necklace for the ball and just my locket for
Sunday. Please pack my new lingerie, as well. There is a robe for it and
slippers, I believe.”

Jolene was suddenly desperate for another woman to talk to.
Someone with whom she could discuss intimacies, even if the language used was
coded, rather than graphic, as she used to talk to Lenora. Or someone she could
just relate to as a woman, and who also had a shared history, albeit from
different perspectives. She sat down on the bed and glanced at Alice as she
folded her clothing with tissues.

“It has been almost four months since we moved, Alice. What
do you think of it here?”

“It is fine, ma’am.”

“Just fine? It has been a huge change for you, hasn’t it?”

Alice nodded and shrugged. “I am grateful for the work and
for the chance to travel some, ma’am.”

“Was it a hard decision for you?”

“Yes, it was. I have a younger brother who is sickly. But I
am able to send money to my mother to help with his care. I am very thankful
for the raise in my salary.”

“Was there anyone else that was hard to leave?”

Alice stopped folding clothes and stared straight ahead.
“Yes.”

“I did not know that there was a beau in your life.”

“He was not a beau,” she said and continued her folding. “He
was promised to another.”

“Ah,” Jolene said. “But it was still difficult to leave
him?”

Alice walked to the wardrobe and opened the doors. “I gave
him everything, ma’am. Everything. And he took it knowing he had proposed to
another. So it was for the very best that I begin again.”

“Men can be duplicitous. That is for certain.”

“Oh, but not your new husband, ma’am. You are so very
lucky!” she said and then turned scarlet and hurried to finish the packing.

“He is handsome and wealthy,” Jolene added. Alice began to
speak and stopped. “Go on. Say what you wish to say. I will not hold it against
you.”

“That is not it. Being handsome and rich, I mean. That is
not why you are lucky,” she said in a rush and wrung her hands at her waist.
“Everyone here is happy and loves working for him. He settles disputes and does
not allow anyone to be mean or loose with the women working here. I do not know
him well, but he must be such a wonderful man to be married to.”

“I can see that his staff respects him and even cares for
him, and he for them,” Jolene said. “It is very unique having come from where
we came from, is it not?”

Alice nodded.

“Take something other than a uniform with you to town,”
Jolene said. “Mr. Shelby has bought you a ticket to see a play showing at the theatre
just a few doors down from the hotel. You will be there and back before we have
returned to our rooms.”

“A play?”

“Do you think you would like to see a play?”