“
Tried,
” Irma muttered. “That’s a nice way to put it.”
“And,” Shep continued as Monte and Minnie and Helen Keen walked up, “they know you haven’t had a chance to practice much. It’ll be all right, Belle. You’ll see.”
Was he trying to cheer her up or convince himself? Irma sighed and said nothing. She was relieved when Ned, Dora, and Mabel mumbled “good job” and then excused themselves to do chores.
“I know you’re thinking about all the mistakes,” Miss Keen said, “but, honey, it wasn’t that bad. You showed you’re a born performer out there. You
kept going.
And honey, city folks wouldn’t have known the difference. They’re gonna love Liberty Belle.” She nudged Shep. “Tell her, Shepherd. You know I’m right.”
Shep smiled and agreed. Irma didn’t think he really meant it. When Monte and Minnie offered similar comments, she shrugged. Her voice wobbled as she said, “At least I tried.”
She swiped a tear away. “But no matter what you all say, we all know I messed up. And not just once but over and over again.”
Thankfully, Daddy came to the rescue before her tears erupted in earnest. “Bill’s got an appointment with a newspaperman in a few minutes. We’ve got to get over to the Wild West offices right away.” Taking Irma’s arm, he led her away.
It was the longest walk of her life. Worse even than the walk from the corral at Uncle Charlie’s to the back porch that day when Momma fainted and Daddy was so angry.
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Daddy said halfway to the office. “I can feel your hand trembling.” He covered her hand with his own as they walked along.
Irma sighed. “Well, at least I’ll be out of my misery sooner rather than later.”
Daddy paused just long enough to glance down at her. “For heaven’s sake, child. It’s
your
dream. Don’t tell me that after all the trouble I’ve gone to you’re going to just give it up without a fight.”
“I came, I fought . . . I lost.”
“You haven’t lost yet,” Daddy snapped. He stopped in his tracks and, turning toward her, gripped both her forearms with his hands. “Dreams do not come true for those who give up. Do you really think you can win a spot with this attitude? Our friendship with the Cody family may have been a factor in this audition, but I can assure you that no amount of friendship with
anyone
is going to get Liberty Belle into the Wild West arena. Everyone knows you weren’t at your best just now. I refuse to believe that means only one thing.” He frowned. “Why, if I’d had this attitude when I first arrived in Nebraska—” He gave her a little shake. “Friedrichs do not wave white flags, Irmagard.” He turned her back toward the offices. “Now, walk into that office and convince Bill Cody and Nate Salsbury that they’d be fools to turn you down based on half a performance on a Sunday afternoon when neither you nor your horse are in anything approaching prime condition.”
Irma began to talk the second she and Daddy sat down opposite Bill Cody and Nate Salsbury. “I know what you just saw was a mess. It wasn’t worthy of the Wild West. But if you’ll give me a chance—if you’ll let me stay—I’ll work harder than anyone. I’ll give you your money’s worth and then some. You won’t regret it. I promise.”
When Mr. Salsbury seemed about to speak, Irma pressed on. She pleaded with Cody. “You don’t know what it’s like for a girl like me. My momma wants a daughter like yours—a beautiful accomplished
lady.
But I’ve never wanted that. Never ever. And here—for the first time in my whole life—I’m around dozens of people who don’t think it’s strange for a girl to prefer corrals to drawing rooms and stables to afternoon tea. You can’t send me back home. You just can’t.”
Irma stopped abruptly. How had Momma gotten all tangled up in what she was saying? Men like Bill Cody and Nate Salsbury didn’t care about some girl’s whining about being misunderstood. Here she had a last chance and she’d bumbled it.
It seemed to take years for Cody to say anything at all. Finally, he spoke up. “My dear girl, who said anything about sending you home?”
Irma looked at him in disbelief. “You . . . you aren’t sending me away?”
“Certainly not.” Cody nodded at Mr. Salsbury.
Salsbury spoke up. “How much do you know about the city of New York, Miss Friedrich?”
“Only what Monte’s told me. That the Wild West arrives in June and will be there for some weeks.”
Salsbury nodded. “What Monte does not know is that we are in negotiations right now to remain in New York for an unprecedented winter performance—indoors—at a venue called Madison Square Garden.” He continued, “The last time I was in New York, I took the ferry across from the city to Staten Island to check on the progress of track we’re having built to transport our audience from the ferry landing to the Wild West grounds. Now the ferry passes near Bledsoe’s Island, soon to be graced by a very significant monument. Have you heard anything about that monument, Miss Friedrich?”
Daddy spoke up. “I have. In fact, now that you mention it, I believe Mrs. Friedrich and I saw an exhibit intended to raise support for that project at the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia ten years ago. Something about celebrating the friendship between France and the United States?”
Salsbury nodded. “Exactly. It’s over three hundred feet high. Named ‘Liberty Enlightening the World,’ the figure of a woman holding high a lighted torch. They expect the light to be visible from fifty miles at sea.”
“That’s what we saw at the Centennial,” Daddy said. “The hand and the torch. Impressive.”
“Indeed,” Salsbury said. “The dedication ceremony is sure to be a historic occasion. President Cleveland himself is giving the official acceptance speech. There will of course be a parade. And fireworks.” Salsbury smiled at Irma. “People will be telling their grandchildren about that day, Miss Friedrich.”
“I expect so.” Irma agreed.
What did any of this have to do with
her?
“Which brings us to the topic of Liberty Belle,” Cody said, folding his hands atop the desk and leaning forward, “who we see as the perfect Wild West contribution to a momentous event in American history.” He smiled. “Thanks to you, Irmagard, the Wild West can have a living, breathing Liberty, not only to perform on Staten Island while the statue goes up on Bledsoe’s Island nearby, but also to ride in the parade on the day the Statue of Liberty is dedicated.” He winked at Irma and sat back. “Thanks to Liberty Belle, every single person who witnesses that parade will remember the Wild West.” He smiled. “They’ll come in droves, my dear.” He nodded at Daddy and then looked back to Irma. “It’s really perfect for us. And hopefully, acceptable to you.”
“You’re . . . you’re
hiring
me? After—” Irma motioned toward the arena. “After that pathetic excuse for an audition?”
“It wasn’t pathetic,” Cody said. “It was . . . imperfect. You were out of practice.”
Mr. Salsbury chimed in. “But you never gave up. You covered your mistakes. And you kept that dazzling smile on your lovely face.” He nodded. “You’re a born performer, Miss Friedrich.”
“I-I am?”
“You are,” Cody nodded as he stood up. “And now if you will excuse me, I try never to keep a journalist waiting.” He shook Daddy’s hand and then stepped out from behind the desk. “My partner has the contract for you both to look over.” He glanced at Daddy. “I don’t want anyone to question whether or not we are treating her fairly,” he said. “
Anyone.
”
He was talking about Momma, of course. Irma glanced at Daddy, who nodded and said something about being grateful that Louisa Cody and Willa were friends.
“You can assure Mrs. Friedrich that we will take very good care of her daughter,” Cody promised. “If it will comfort rather than upset her by encouraging imagined tragic scenarios, you might mention that we’ll have our own physician on staff throughout the tour. Dr. Miller comes highly recommended.”
Salsbury spoke up. “And he’s ordered supplies enough to stock a small hospital.”
Cody agreed before adding, “And should she decide to visit the Wild West, be certain to let us know so we can make proper arrangements.” He turned to Irma. “Now you, my dear, must promise that you will work very hard to perfect moves worthy of Liberty Belle, both for her debut this summer and in the October parade.”
“I will,” Irma croaked. “I promise.” She wasn’t sure which had given her a bigger knot in her stomach, failing in the audition or succeeding in getting hired for . . .
October?! But—
“And I have one more request,” Cody said.
“Whatever you say, sir,” Irma replied.
Maybe she misunderstood
about October.
Cody laughed and nodded to where his partner stood, contract in hand. “If only we could get everyone else on our staff to learn that phrase.” He looked at Daddy. “Irmagard Friedrich is a perfectly fine name for a girl from North Platte. But I think we all agree that Liberty Belle is a better one for the Wild West. With both your permissions, that’s how we’ll introduce our new ranchera to the rest of the troupe.”
“As my daughter so eloquently stated just now,” Daddy said, with a little nod, “whatever you say.”
“Well then”—Cody swept his hat off his head and gave an elegant bow—“welcome to the Wild West, Miss Belle.”
“Did he say
October
?” Irma asked as soon as Bill Cody was gone.
“He did,” Mr. Salsbury replied. “I believe the exact date is October 26. Which is why it’s so perfect for Liberty Belle to be part of that event. We open in Madison Square Garden in November.”
Irma stared at her father. “But I can’t still be here in
October.
”
Salsbury frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Daddy cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse my daughter and me for a few moments, Nate—” He reached for the contract.
Salsbury handed it over. “Of course.” He paused. “I need to speak to a few people about where we’ll house our new performer.” He looked at Daddy. “We do
have
a new performer?”
“You do,” Daddy said. “Irma and I just need to have a little talk is all. She was hoping to be hired on for the summer. This new infor-mation—” He cleared his throat. “We just need a few minutes.”
As soon as Salsbury was gone, Daddy laid the contract before Irma and pointed to the signature line. “Trust me,” he said. When Irma hesitated, he said, “Or shall I telegraph your mother in Chicago and ask her permission? I could do that. If you want me to.”
“She’d say no.” Irma groaned with frustration. “She’d
scream
no.” She took a deep breath. “You really did have me convinced that it would be all right—that Momma would eventually come around. But that was when I was only going to be gone for the summer. This—” She gestured at the contract. “This is another animal entirely.”
Daddy nodded agreement. “Indeed it is. But look at this way. Why did Momma want you to go to Brownell?
Education.
What better education could you have than to travel and meet people? And I don’t mean the other performers. Why, you’ve already met the mayor of St. Louis. If you make yourself a student of the people you meet and the places you visit, you could end up with an education that the best schools in the country could not rival. If you remain with the Wild West beyond this first season, you’ll be going to
Europe
next year. Nate told me—in confidence, of course—that the negotiations are nearly finished. I only know about it because the bank is going to help with the financing.” He smiled. “Now, what parent would stand in the way of their child meeting the Queen?”
“I hardly think I’d meet the Queen.”
“Who’s to say?” Daddy shrugged. “Either way, it looks to me like being with the Wild West will provide you life experience that will trump anything Brownell Hall could offer.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Sign the contract, Irma. Your momma loves you. When you’re settled in New York, I’ll bring her for a visit. By then you’ll be a well-traveled and mature young woman who will, I am certain, take great pains to treat her mother to a tour of the city of New York that will impress even her.”
Still doubting, Irma looked down and began to read through the contract that stated Liberty Belle agreed to perform twice a day, six days a week “as soon as competence is demonstrated.” She would be paid thirty dollars a month. Three meals a day and lodging would be provided. Additional responsibilities and performing wardrobe were “to be arranged.” She was required to keep herself and her equipment and costumes clean. She had to be “orderly, quiet, and gentlemanly.” Irma forced a laugh at that last requirement before reading, “
Each cast
member is allowed one dressing trunk 18 inches by 18 inches by 24 inches
and one personal trunk the same size, but only if absolutely necessary.”
Her trunk was much larger than that.
“We’ll get a smaller one as soon as the stores open Monday morning,” Daddy said as soon as Irma read him the rule.
She had just finished reading the front page when Mr. Salsbury returned and asked, “Do you have any questions before you sign?”
Irma took a deep breath. She glanced at Daddy again. When it came right down to it, she realized there was no way she was going to walk away from this. And Momma would just have to learn to accept it. Or not. She picked up the fountain pen even as she asked Mr. Salsbury about her additional responsibilities and wardrobe.