Wildblossom (29 page)

He was hungry as hell, too. Dismounting, he went into the house and discovered that nothing at all was cooking on the stove. Worse, Vivian was sitting at the table, staring off in the distance dreamy as a half-wit, petting that stupid dog.

Bart tried not to lose his temper. Instead he batted her on the side of the head and shouted, "Lazy bitch! Where's my dinner? You think this is some kind of society hotel I'm runnin' here?"

"No, Bart. I'm sorry." She started to her feet, eyes downcast, and pushed the cowering Willy under the table. Usually, when she heard him coming, she locked the dog in the outside shed, where he'd be safe and out of Bart's way. "Shelby stopped by to say good-bye. She's taking Annie Oakley's place in the Wild West Show." Bart only gave her his meanest bored stare. "Anyway, I guess I lost track of time. I'll get your dinner just as quick as I can—"

"I don't want dinner yet."

Nausea swept over her at the tone of his voice. Pretending not to understand, Vivian hurried toward the stove and reached for a cast-iron skillet. Her hand shook so much that it rattled against the burner, and Willy peeked out from under the tablecloth.

"Go lie down, woman."

Bile rose in her throat. "Please, Bart—not now... please!" She heard herself whimpering and despised the terror he evoked in her. When Bart came toward her and twisted her arm behind her back, Willy scurried out from under the table, growling ferociously. Fearlessly, he latched onto the rancher's pant leg.

"Get away, mutt!" Croll gave the little animal a savage kick that sent him hurtling across the cramped room. Undaunted, Willy returned to defend his mistress.

Viv made the mistake of beginning to weep. "Please, Bart, please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt Willy. I love him so...."

He stuck the dog in a bureau drawer, pushed it shut, and grabbed her by the back of her skirt. "Git on that bed an' spread your legs!"

Please God,
Vivian prayed soundlessly as she fell across the meager bed,
make me numb.
Bart was there in the next instant, raking up her skirts. When he lay heavily on top of her, his rank smell filled her nostrils and made her want to retch. Turning her face to one side, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, willing herself not to feel, not to be sick, not to sob out loud. His hands were like sandpaper on her soft belly. He tore away her underclothes and thrust a finger inside her, grunting. Dry and frightened, Vivian cried out in pain.

It never took very long for him to rape her, but Viv felt as if she were spiraling down a black hole into the bowels of Hell. To not be allowed to consent to such a violation of her most intimate being was worse than one of his beatings, which sometimes left her black and blue. This was an assault of her soul.

Bart pushed inside her, but his erection shrank away after a few moments. He was getting old, and she prayed each night that the time would come soon when his pride would keep him from trying again. Today, though, the failure of his manhood enraged him. He kept thrusting at her, cursing.

"This is your fault, you stupid bitch!"

As always, Viv kept her face turned away, eyes closed, willing herself to detach from the degrading ordeal. He struck her, hard across the face, but she didn't respond.

"Why do I put up with you? What good are you?" Veins stood out in his red face. He clambered up and fastened his pants. Vivian curled up in a ball, facing the wall. "Yer no good, that's what! I was better off alone!"

"I'll leave, then," she whispered.

"The hell you will! Think I'll let you go? You owe me, bitch!"

Willy had been crying in the drawer all the time, but now he began to yip in Viv's defense. Infuriated by his own impotence and his wife's indifference, Bart narrowed his eyes at the bureau.

"I
hate
that mutt. All he does is yap and eat my food and get in the way! Never shoulda let you keep him in the first place." Reaching for his gun, he opened the drawer and held Willy aloft by the scruff of his neck. The pup made plaintive crying sounds. "Time for you to go, mongrel."

Stricken and stunned, Viv sat in bed, her eyes like saucers in a dead-white face. "W-What? You don't mean—"

Pleased to have found a way to strike her very core, Bart Croll grinned, showing his yellowed teeth.

"Time you remembered who's in charge here, you ugly whore." With that, he went out the door, the whimpering Willy clutched in one hand, his pistol in the other.

Viv began to shriek, and the sounds were bloodcurdling, reverberating with all the raw pain buried deep within her. Her legs felt numb, but she stumbled forward, screaming.

When she came through the door into the dirt yard, she saw the back of Bart's head as he stopped near the hitching post. The little dog wriggled, wide-eyed with terror, as Bart clutched him with one hand and cocked the hammer on his pistol with the other.

A sound rose from the depths of Viv's soul. "Nooo—!" She thought her heart might burst.

Bart turned back, a cruel smile twisting his lips, and tossed the little dog in her direction. "Not worth my bullet. Neither of you are, at least not today."

* * *

Shelby tried not to think too much as she washed clothes and packed for her new life. If she thought about leaving the ranch and how much she'd miss everyone, she'd be grief-stricken, so she just told herself that she was getting away for the winter. Ranch winters were terribly long anyway. Colonel Cody had insisted that there would be no contract, and that had been what finally convinced her to agree. If she didn't like performing with the show by spring, she could come back to Wyoming.

The Wild West Show was another subject her mind shied away from. She was proud of her skills as a sharpshooter, but she'd read so much about Annie Oakley that she felt like a complete amateur in comparison. But Cody had promised that she wouldn't have to perform when they first got to England. A trainer would work closely with her until all concerned felt secure about her performance.

She was glad to have visited England before, so she didn't have to wonder what life would be like there, but of course that was the least of her worries anyway. Although she continued to push away thoughts of Geoff, lying in bed alone in the dark the night before her departure, she swung back and forth between potent memories and jarring uncertainty. It was impossible not to imagine various scenes in London. What if he were already married when she arrived?
Never mind, I'll just pull up my socks and get on with life—and my job! There's no reason for him to think I came to England to win him back, is there?

There were shadows under her eyes when she got dressed the next morning and let Cookie fix breakfast. She felt years older than the carefree gamine who had popped into her parents' dining room in full cowgirl regalia just last March. It was odd to consider how life, love, heartache, and friendship could combine, just so, to carry a girl over the brink into womanhood....

Titus, Cal, Lucius, Marsh, and Jimmy all assembled to join Shelby for breakfast, and they reminisced about the good times they'd shared on the Sunshine Ranch. Already they treated her a little differently, though, for she was clad in a rather sophisticated traveling suit of green wool trimmed in black velvet—a gift from Buffalo Bill. Titus and Ben were going to take her to the depot, so when the buggy was loaded with her luggage, Shelby sadly kissed each of the ranch hands on the cheek.

"I'm awfully fond of you boys, do you know that?"

Before the others could speak, Marsh exclaimed, "Yup!" and everyone started laughing.

It was Cal who dared to turn serious. "We're glad that you're goin', Miss Shelby, cuz we expect that you'll bring Geoff back with you. Right?"

"I don't know. Unfortunately, he was born to the sort of position that makes it hard for him to do as he pleases... but I have decided that I am worthy of the Marquess of Sandhurst, after all." She gave them one of her wide, shining smiles. "However it all turns out, at least we'll know we tried!"

"Atta girl," the quartet of cowpunchers all said at once, and began to clap. Lucius added, "All them dukes and earls would be lucky to have you!"

Shelby stood in front of the mirror to put on her new hat, a confection with a brim that turned up on each side, its crown decorated with feathers and ribbons. It made her look mature and startlingly like her mother. Outside, she consulted Ben's pocket watch. "I want to allow enough time to stop and say good-bye to Vivian. We won't linger; I don't want to cause trouble for her." She looked perplexed. "I really had high hopes that she'd come last night. I tried every bit of persuasion I could think of to get her to be my ladies' maid in England. Colonel Cody said he'd pay for one, and it seemed the perfect way to get Viv to leave Bart—"

"Look!" Ben shielded his eyes against the winter sun and squinted at the horse coming toward them from the Croll fence line. "It's Bart's horse, but the rider looks like..."

"Vivian!" Shelby cried, overjoyed. Heedless of her expensive clothing, she lifted her skirts and ran to meet her friend. Viv reined in the horse, jumped down, and hugged Shelby without any prompting. She was shaking all over.

"I'm coming," she gasped. "I'm coming with you! I didn't have time to pack anything except this one little carpetbag—"

"It doesn't matter, we'll get you everything you need later." For a moment Shelby was almost overcome by emotion, but then she managed to whisper, "Oh, Viv, I'm so happy—more for you than for me. We'll have a wonderful time, but what's important is that you're going to have a new life. Starting this moment!"

"Y-Yes." She nodded like a doll.

"Where is Willy?"

"Here." Glassy-eyed, Viv opened the carpetbag and a quivering nose emerged. "He's afraid, so afraid." Sobs overtook her. "I know I can't take him with me, but can he stay here?"

"Of course he can! We'd never leave little Willy with that awful man." She wrapped an arm around her shaken friend. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be all right. I'll take care of you. Lean on me, sweetheart."

Ben and Titus appeared startled by this new development, but they, too, were fond of Vivian and happy that she'd found the courage to leave her husband. The longer they knew Bart Croll, the more they despised him and were repelled by his presence.

On the way to Cody, Shelby took a few minutes to remind the men of Buffalo Bill's assurance that Gadabout and Charlie could also come to England with the Wild West Show. It would be up to the Sunshine Ranch to deliver the horses to Cody's nearby TE Ranch before December sixth. "The colonel and his friends will return from their hunting expedition then, and he'll organize the train to New York."

When they arrived at the depot, Shelby sent Ben inside to purchase their tickets, and her friend decided to go on board the train to rest. Shelby stayed on the platform and watched her uncle load not just her own things onto the train, but also a trunk she didn't recognize. She was in the midst of bidding Titus a tearful good-bye when she saw Ben pass by with the luggage on his shoulder.

"Mr. Pym, how can I ever thank you for all you've done for me? I have to admit, there were times I felt a bit lost among all you men, and you always came to my rescue with an extra helping of kindness and understanding."

"It's no more than I've been doin' since the day you were born, darling girl... and no more than your parents expect of me." He hugged her tight, then stood away, smiling and pink-cheeked in the November wind. "I'm glad you're going on this adventure. I have a feeling that it holds a lot of surprises, and you'll come home to us an even better person than you are now."

"I hope so, Mr. Pym."

Shelby kissed his cheek again, holding onto her hat as one of Cody's famous zephyrs threatened to pull it from her head, hatpins and all. "Take care of yourself and little Willy—" She broke off as Ben came up behind Titus. "Uncle Ben, I don't think you care at all that I'm leaving! It's time for me to board the train and you haven't given me so much as a pat on the back! And what was that ugly old trunk you took on board?"

He gave Titus a conspiratorial grin. "That was
my
trunk, Shel. I'm on the payroll of the Wild West Show—and I'm going with you to England! Titus an' the boys can run things here during the winter." Ben gave her cheek a tweak before adding, "You need me! Who else did you think could train you to do all those tricks?"

Titus chuckled. "Sometimes I think it's the other way around, lad. Shelby's had you jumping through hoops since she was a baby!"

A conductor leaned out of the train and drawled,
"Allll aboarrrdd!"

Her heart began to pound with exhilaration. "Come on, Uncle Ben! We can't be late!" And then, heedless of her fine clothing, Shelby clutched her hat with one hand and ran into her future.

* * *

Tucked in a narrow, twisting gulch, the town of Deadwood was receiving a fanciful coating of snow. Pine trees, rocky cliffs, and steeply pitched roofs were all frosted like decorations on a cake.

Madeleine Avery Matthews stood in her tower music room and looked down over the town through a tall window of curved glass. "I hope it stays this way for Christmas," she murmured wistfully. "Perhaps the snow will bring us good luck."

"And what do you need luck for?" Maddie's half sister asked from her seat on the piano bench. Sun Smile, who was a member of the Teton Sioux Indian tribe, had met Maddie for the first time when they were nearly twenty years old. Maddie had been a proper, Philadelphia-bred lady, new to the Black Hills, and Sun Smile had been the grieving widow of a Sioux warrior killed at Little Bighorn. Their father, finally revealing an old secret, had brought Sun Smile into the fold of his Irish-English family.