Wildblossom (26 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Wright

BOOK: Wildblossom
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"Am I?" As she managed a smile, she drew her fingers from his hands. "We'd better go back. I know there is a lot to be done before you leave."

Geoff turned away. His old armor was still available, stored away but quite serviceable. He called it up, along with the mask he'd worn daily in his past life, as they started back to the house.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Shelby was cutting vegetables for supper when Geoff emerged from his room. Freshly bathed and shaven, he had donned fresh trousers with one of the pinstripe shirts she'd never seen him wear before. As he approached, she saw that he was carrying a sheaf of papers. The gold signet ring that had been stored in his wardrobe trunk now gleamed on his last finger.

Just then the door opened and her uncle came in, dusty and sweaty. "I've never been so thirsty!" he exclaimed.

"Ah, Ben, you're just the person I was looking for," Geoff said. "Can you spare a few moments to talk to Shelby and me?"

She brought three glasses of water and they sat down together. In the middle of the table, a little vase of zinnias had begun to droop, but Shelby didn't care. Her heart, which wouldn't stop aching, clenched harder as she took in Geoff's serious expression.

"Ben, I've been called home to England. My father is very ill and it's a complicated situation for me. I'm afraid I have to say goodbye." He glanced toward Shelby but didn't meet her eyes. "I've already told your niece."

Gulping his water, Ben nearly choked. "Wh–what? But, you can't just
go
! Do you mean go and not come back?"

There was a long, charged moment of silence. "Since you put it that way, yes."

"But, half this ranch belongs to you! You aren't some visitor who can just leave!"

Shelby put a hand on his arm. "It's all right, Uncle Ben."

Drawing a deep, painful breath, Geoff opened the sheaf of papers. He felt as though he'd been struck in the chest. "I hadn't planned to leave yet, but perhaps it's just as well, because it's always been inevitable. Of course, I have signed my share of the ranch over to Shelby." He placed the document in front of her but looked at Ben. "I never would have kept it at all if I hadn't wanted to stay here with all of you."

"I can't believe this!" Ben cried, beset by unaccustomed emotion. "I mean—it feels like you're family! Are you just gonna go back to England and become a duke and forget all about us?"

Shelby blinked to keep back the tears, while Geoff went ashen. "No, I won't forget...." he said quietly. "But I was born to another life, and I have no choice but to accept it and go on." He swallowed, then managed a wan smile. "Besides, I'm sure it's better to shove off now than to wear out my welcome."

"But, what about all the equipment you've bought?" Ben demanded. "You've spent a fortune!"

"Everything I purchased as a co-owner is part of the Sunshine Ranch now. The rest of these papers are the bills of sale, which I made in Shelby's name. I would be insulted if you tried to reimburse me." His tone brooked no argument, then he added dryly, "I'd better go and see if Manypenny remembers how to pack. No doubt it's a shock for him to be working again."

Unable to speak, Shelby watched him rise and leave the room. She went to stand in front of the nickel-plated range, one small fist pressed to her mouth, trying to hold in an ocean of tears.

* * *

When Geoff and Manypenny left the Sunshine Ranch, Shelby stayed in bed, pleading a sick headache. She still couldn't bear to speak to Geoff for fear she'd break down and beg him not to leave her.

He was secretly relieved to be spared good-byes. What could they say to one another?

Geoff had let down his guard only once before leaving, and that was with Charlie, who would never tell anyone about the bitter tears that were shed during their last dawn ride over the ranch.

Finally, Ben and Titus took the two Englishmen and their mountain of luggage to Cody in the wagon, and it was a scene reminiscent of their arrival, except that the season had changed—and Shelby was missing. Lying in bed, she had waited for the sounds of the departing wagon to die away, and then rose and walked barefoot through the house.

Geoff's room looked like a monk's cell. Clothes, books, toiletries, and the wardrobe trunk with Lady Clementine's letter in it—everything he owned was gone. The only proof that Geoff had ever lived in this room was the faint scent of him, still in the air. Yearning and grief clenched at Shelby's insides. She crawled onto his bed, hugging his pillow, and let the tears come.

How could this have happened? How could she ever go back to life without him?

Shelby wept until she was spent, then went out into the hallway. Manypenny's room was bare, too, reminding her of the hours she'd spent there during his illness. It had been the beginning of the most unlikely friendship of her life. Was he hurt that she hadn't said goodbye?

Perhaps they'd come back. Some days the train just never arrived! Perhaps it might have been attacked and robbed by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and their Wild Bunch, in which case the train wouldn't be able to take Geoff and Manypenny away!

But when Shelby came into the kitchen and saw the sheaf of papers lying on her new lace tablecloth, her heart knew the truth. Geoff didn't mean to return, even if the train was late. On top of the deed to the ranch was an envelope containing a short letter that avoided sentiment until the very end. Geoff reminded her of their obligation to look out for Vivian Croll—"I trust you'll find a way to improve her situation, even without my help. Just be careful!"—asked her to take care of Charlie for him, and closed,

 

Shelby, I have regrets about the way things turned out for us, but I'm too selfish to undo the past we shared. We had some adventures and memorable experiences together, and I'd like to think our lives are better for them. I'll remember you with a smile, scamp... especially when I hear songs like "In the Good Old Summertime."

 

She looked around and saw that the gramophone was still on the little side table, left behind by its owner as a token of the past. Someone had put a certain record on the turntable, and Shelby knew what it would be.

There was no room for doubt: Geoff would not be coming back.

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

Buffalo Bill was coming to Cody for the grand opening of the Irma Hotel, which would take place on November 18, 1902, just four short days away. On the Saturday morning of Colonel Cody's arrival by train, it seemed that everyone in town was en route to the depot to greet him. Businesses and houses alike were decorated with bunting, flags, and portraits of the great man, and the neighboring town of Meeteetse had sent its cornet band and orchestra to add a special flourish to the gala occasion.

Shelby Matthews and Vivian Croll were riding side by side on their bicycles, trailing at the end of the procession of a couple hundred carriages, marching musicians, and mounted dignitaries who were all heading down Sheridan Avenue toward the train station.

"Sometimes I wish he'd never come to Wyoming at all," Shelby remarked with a heavy sigh.

Vivian looked puzzled. "Colonel Cody?"

"What? Oh... no, I mean Geoff!" The sky above them was white, and the wind pushing tumbleweeds through Cody warned sharply of winter's approach. Shelby wrapped her muffler tighter and added, "If I had never met him, I wouldn't know I was missing anything now."

Vivian gave her friend a wan smile. Although she understood that Shelby had been devastated by Geoff's departure and continued to pine for him more than three months later, it was difficult for Viv to feel much sympathy for someone who enjoyed the sort of life she could only dream of. Shelby was safe, loved by her family, and, most importantly, in control of her own destiny.

"Do I sound like a terrible brat?" Shelby steered her Napoleon bicycle close enough to touch her friend's gloved hand. "I promise to say no more about it for the rest of our day together. This is too fine an occasion to be spoiled by my lamentations... and besides, I suspect that you have problems I don't understand. Isn't that so, Vivian? And you never complain; never speak a word."

The other woman glanced away, her eyes smudged with fatigue. Courage had begun stirring in her months ago, when Shelby and Geoff had first come into her woeful existence. She still felt powerless against Bart's inhumane treatment, but her thoughts were increasingly rebellious. He could beat her down, mentally and physically, but she did not have to break. Shelby's radiant presence in her life, and that of darling Willy, not only lifted her spirits, but gave her hope that better days lay ahead. Still, it was too dangerous for her to confide in her friend. Bart was capable of anything. And so she looked back at Shelby and murmured, "You have no idea, actually. It was a great victory for me to get permission to come out today."

"Permission!
How can you talk that way? You are supposed to be his wife, not his slave!"

Viv could only sigh. Life was much more complicated than Shelby realized, and rarely fair or just.

Sensing her momentary weakness, Shelby pounced. "Please—tell me the truth. I can help you!"

"I—" Stricken, Vivian broke off. No more, she thought. She mustn't say another word, or she wouldn't be able to stop—and somehow he'd find out! If she involved Shelby, it would only mean that two of them were at risk. And so, instead, Viv tried to change the subject, pointing to the Irma Hotel, which was decorated with even more bunting than the rest of the buildings in town. "Goodness, doesn't it look handsome?"

Shelby choked back her pleas and speeches, knowing by now that once Viv grew skittish, she could not be reached. Instead, Shelby gave her a warm smile and nodded. "Wait until you see the magnificent bar that Queen Victoria sent Colonel Cody a couple of years ago, after his command performance in London. Uncle Ben said that it was terribly difficult to get here. It was made in France, then shipped to New York by steamer, then to Red Lodge, Montana, by train, then they had to take it apart and bring it here by horse and wagon. Isn't that amazing?" She smiled brightly. "Of course, we'll see the bar at the opening celebration for the hotel on Wednesday evening."

"I can't wait to hear all your stories," Vivian said. "Will you promise to visit me the next day? I do hope that Bart has other work on the ranch so we can talk freely. Now that winter is coming again—so quickly!—there is less and less for him to do outdoors, and that little house seems so... crowded."

"But Viv, I want you to come with me to the party!" Shelby cried. She stopped her bicycle and fished in the pocket of her coat for an invitation stamped at the top with a gold buffalo. "Look, Colonel Cody sent out a thousand of these, and they aren't addressed to us by name. You'll come as our guest! It won't be any fun for me if you aren't there!"

Vivian refused to hold the engraved invitation, but she did glance at it sadly, catching the phrase
Colonel W. F. Cody earnestly desires your presence.
"I can't, Shelby. Thursday is Thanksgiving. It's impossible. I know Bart simply wouldn't allow it." She paused. "I'm afraid to leave Willy with Bart. In fact, I shouldn't stay out long today."

"That's ridiculous! What's he going to do, physically harm you if you disobey?" Instantly, she wished she could take back the hastily spoken words, for Vivian went dead-white and her haunted eyes filled with tears. "Oh, I'm sorry! But I don't understand! I know he's a bully, but surely he wouldn't
strike
you! That's just too terrible to imagine!"

Her little chin was trembling as she boosted herself back onto the bicycle seat. "You just don't know how perfect your life is. You have so much to be grateful for."

Shelby watched Vivian pedal away toward the rest of Colonel Cody's welcoming procession. Shock, horror, and guilt clashed within her as she wondered how she could have been so blind... and, now that the truth was out, what she could do about it.

Oh, Geoff, I need you! Shelby thought. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and put the invitation back in her pocket before cycling furiously to catch up with Vivian. Somehow she would cope without Geoff, and find a way to rescue her dear friend from a husband who was a much worse villain than Shelby had ever imagined.

* * *

"For Pete's sake, Shel, I wish you'd quit talking all the time about Vivian Croll!" Ben complained while his niece helped him with his tie. They stood in the kitchen amidst the ruins of a Thanksgiving dinner that had been devoured by all the men of the Sunshine Ranch. "This is supposed to be such a great night—and it won't do any of us any good to spoil it worrying about her! I mean, I feel bad for her, too, but it's not my marriage—" Feeling the heat of her threatening stare, he broke off.

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