Wildblossom (4 page)

Sir Charles Lipton-Lyons, still a bit green around the gills, urged his horse into a lazy trot that brought him to the marquess's side. "Hello. Good thing I live so near; might not've made it otherwise. I b'lieve I'll swear off champagne."

Geoff chuckled. "Old story. Do you ever think about the tedious routine we are all caught up in, simply by virtue of social class? Every day, except Sunday, it's the same. We men make our appearance in the Row, then hurry home to change into a frock coat for luncheon at one of our clubs. Then it's off to polo or pigeon shooting or cricket, followed by the ordeal of trussing oneself into evening clothes and tottering off for more endless entertainments and rich food. To me it is dull beyond description." His high spirits had gradually faded away as he spoke, now replaced by the shadowed look Charles was used to. "Not that I'm an ungrateful sort. On the contrary, I'm glad to be rich enough not to have to spend my life slaving in a button factory. And, I intend to put my wealth to good use by going to a place where there
none of the pretentious rot that infects London society."

"I can see that you feel very strongly about this, Sandhurst, and I sympathize."

Brightening, Geoff plucked a twig of apple blossoms from a low-hanging branch. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Charles. I was beginning to worry that you might pull out."

"Actually..."

"I
knew
it!" Reining in Thor, Geoff fixed his old friend with a stormy scowl. "You have always been a coward! This really is beyond the pale, though—to regale me with tales of this far-off place, then be so fickle—"

"See here, you're not being fair! I thought we were just indulging in a distraction from this business with Lady Clem! You could've knocked me over with a feather when you declared that you really wanted to
do
it!" Passing riders were staring at the pair, who had stopped dead in the middle of the Row. "By jove, there isn't much I wouldn't do for you. However, I have no real desire to traipse across the world to Cody, Wyoming. And... I happen to
enjoy
all these pastimes you find so tiresome!" Lipton-Lyons's face was flushed with emotion.

A long moment passed, during which Geoff flicked a bit of dust from his sleeve before replying coolly, "No need for histrionics. A simple no would have done just as well."

Charles went even redder, but managed to put out his hand and muster a smile. "I wish you well, Sandhurst."

"Yes, I must go. There are countless arrangements to be made, not the least of which involves informing Manypenny that he will accompany me to Wyoming in your place. D'you suppose he'll be able to contain his joy?" A familiar sardonic smile played at the corners of his mouth. He shook his old schoolmate's hand and said lightly, "I'll see you in a year, and you may squire Lady Clem anyplace you like during my absence!"

Sir Charles Lipton-Lyons felt his eyes moisten as he watched the Marquess of Sandhurst wheel Thor around and weave his way among the carriages and horses that thronged the Row. When Geoff paused at the corner near Albert Gate, he looked back and tipped his hat, hair agleam in the sunlight.

Suddenly overcome with bittersweet regret, Charles put a hand to his mouth and called out, "Godspeed, Geoff! Don't forget to write!"

Chapter 2

Sunshine Ranch,

near Cody, Wyoming

April 1902

Lying under plush down-filled quilts in her new brass bed, Shelby wriggled and stretched and considered the day that was spread before her like a wonderful treat. Dawn was edging closer; ice-blue and plum light seeped into the night sky outside her window. In a few more minutes she could jump out of bed, build up the fire, pull on her clothes, and start the fragrant breakfast that would feed six men and herself.

The ripening morning invariably brought more pleasure.

Shelby usually put off her work with the ledgers and statements that were piled on her desk, instead saddling up with Titus, Ben, and their four young ranch hands, Jimmy, Marsh, Cal, and Lucius. In May they'd have their first big roundup and brand all the new cattle and calves, but for now there were other tasks to occupy the days. Fences remained unfinished, stray horses and cattle had to be coaxed out of the hills, and others who had wandered into treacherous mudholes in search of the water they'd craved all winter had to be rescued.

Shelby made a rousing attempt at being one of the boys and was ecstatic to be outdoors on horseback, deep in the splendor of the Wyoming springtime. The Sunshine Ranch was located in the valley that traced the south fork of the Shoshone River. Snow-crowned mountains rose up behind the ranch and beyond lay the magnificent Yellowstone National Park.

Rolling onto her back in bed, Shelby closed her eyes for a moment and remembered the day she and Uncle Ben had arrived at the railroad station a mile and a half away from the scrappy town of Cody.

Faithful old Titus Pym had met them with the buckboard. Looking around as they lurched out of town, Shelby felt her sense of trepidation grow. How romantic Cody had sounded when Buffalo Bill had described it! This windswept settlement, built on a sagebrush-dotted shelf of land, was not what she had expected. The buildings were generally rough clapboard affairs, the streets were muddy and littered with tumbleweeds, and silent cowboys and blanket-wrapped Crow Indians paused beside hitching posts to stare at her. Shelby was dressed in a practical dark skirt, a white shirtwaist with a high lace-edged collar, and a coat, but she was aware that her looks were singular enough to attract attention. She'd have been happy to hide her luxuriant rusty curls under a wide-brimmed Stetson hat and her annoying curves under baggy shirts, pants, and chaps if it meant that people would stop looking at her.

The road they followed southward was barely discernible; it came and went, generally following the Shoshone River. Even though the relentless bouncing nearly tossed her out more than once, Shelby found that the panorama unfolding before her awestruck gaze more than compensated for any discomfort. Homesteads and ranch houses appeared, tiny dots ringed by toy trees, dwarfed by the distant mountains that seemed to reach toward the edge of heaven.

The Sunshine Ranch, as it happened, was located nearly ten miles from Cody, and the going was slow. During the long ride, she found herself wondering what sort of house Titus and Uncle Ben had produced. Should she brace herself for disappointment? Her fears increased when she glimpsed a wretched-looking sod house in the distance, surrounded by sagebrush, a few half-starved cattle, and one weather-beaten old man on horseback.

"My new neighbors?" she inquired sweetly.

Ben Avery glanced toward the tiny sod house and savored the opportunity to tease her. Deadpan, he waved to the rancher and remarked, "Bart Croll isn't so bad for a fella missing half his teeth. He rolls cigarettes faster than anyone I've ever seen." Ben poked Titus in the back. "Titus, didn't Bart mention that he's been corresponding with one of those matrimonial clubs in the East—?"

Titus Pym, a pink-cheeked little gnome who still retained hints of his Cornish accent, took pity on Shelby. He'd been working for Fox Matthews for nearly twenty-six years, before Fox and Maddie even knew they were in love. It was hard for Titus to think of Shelby as anything other than a little girl he was sworn to protect. Now he gave Ben a bewhiskered frown and scolded, "You always were the troublemaker, lad, ever since you was runnin' about Deadwood's badlands in short pants! Don't be foolin' our Shelby. Bart Croll isn't fit to shake her hand, even if he hadn't already found a wife. I heard that he brought a pretty little thing back from St. Louis a few weeks ago."

"A mail-order bride, huh? Poor thing."

Shelby felt her panic subside, replaced by outrage as she turned on her uncle. "How could you be so horrid to me at a time like this?"

Ben laughed and stretched out his long legs, but refused to say more except to assure his niece that her new home would not have a mud roof.

At last, in a lushly wooded glade near the blue sweep of the river, Shelby caught her first glimpse of the Sunshine Ranch. At the entrance to the lane that branched off the main road was a sort of archway consisting of two tall poles supporting a long wooden sign. The sign had been carved with the ranch's brand: a circle with eight lines radiating outward like a child's rendering of a shining sun.

Shelby's eyes searched through the sheltering stand of old cottonwood trees until she found the ranch house. As they drew nearer, she felt a great surge of relief, then joy.

A spacious veranda stretched across the front of the sturdy log house. She was immediately struck by its resemblance to the first home her father had built in Deadwood, a log structure that still stood and was used by Fox as his office. This ranch house had generous proportions and wide windows. To Shelby's astonishment, she found that the roof had even been made of real shingles. Both ends of the house were hugged by mammoth chimneys of river rock and there was a wide, shaded veranda across the front.

When the buckboard rolled to a stop, Ben Avery lifted his niece to the ground. In early April the weather was still chilly, although the sunshine and the trilling of birds promised that real spring was at hand. Proud of all that he and Titus had accomplished since summer, with the help of good hired men, Ben pointed out the stable, outbuildings, and the bunkhouse that were still going up. There were corrals filled with cattle and wild-looking horses. And, in a sunny area away from the trees, Ben had built a white picket fence around the garden that they would soon be able to till and plant.

"I know you can't cook to save your life, Shel, but you're gonna have to learn, and fast! Did Maddie give you lessons this winter like she promised me she would?" Ben ran a hand through his thick sandy hair and looked boyishly hopeful.

Shelby laughed. "Uncle Ben, you know that Mama can barely cook herself!"

His face fell. "But we were counting on you! I burn everything I touch, and we've got four hired hands to feed—"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, what a pitiful sight you are, Uncle Ben." She gave him a dimpled smile and patted his wide back. "I can do anything I set my mind to, even cooking!"

And since that day, she had. Through the Sears, Roebuck & Co. catalogue, Ben had ordered a fancy nickel-plated, six-hole sterling steel range and a new oak icebox. They had also gotten every cooking gadget available, from the latest coffee grinder to a nickel-plated lid lifter. If Shelby had loved to cook as much as she loved to ride her horse, she would have been in a perpetual state of ecstasy. Still, she tried hard and made the best of it.

Now, as she threw back the covers and dressed in the violet light, Shelby realized that her first month in Wyoming was passing quickly. Soon it would be May. She was anxious for their first roundup, and she had so many plans for the ranch that she could scarcely contain her excitement. The only obstacles were Uncle Ben and Titus. If she could convince them to take a few risks, the Sunshine Ranch could achieve success beyond anyone's dreams, even those of her father.

Shelby paused before the oval mirror that hung over her washstand. Her clothes had been chosen for utility, but she couldn't help looking beautiful. Today she wore a union suit, shunning a corset, and a split skirt of chocolate broadcloth tucked into soft riding boots. Her ivory cotton blouse had a high neck and tapering long sleeves. She had fastened a gold bar pin to her collar, and her shining hair was swept up into the wide pompadour that the Gibson Girl had made so fashionable. On Shelby, the style was exquisite, emphasizing her stunning teal-blue eyes, the lines of her cheekbones and jaw, and her generous mouth.

She headed into the main part of the house, where the biggest wall was dominated by a giant bear skin. Shelby hated it but didn't want to injure her uncle's pride by taking it down too abruptly. The furnishings were plain but comfortable, and Ben had mounted a large tattered poster advertising "Buffalo Bill's Wild West and Congress of Rough Riders." The decade-old relic featured a map of Europe, colored drawings of Indians in Venetian gondolas, and the slogan: "From Prairie to Palace; Camping on Two Continents."

In the kitchen, Shelby began to hum, smiling, as she tied on her gingham apron and took eggs, ham, and butter from the icebox. She'd make pancakes, too, with warm maple syrup.

An half-hour later the men burst into the house, bringing the bracing clean chill of the dawn with them. The quartet of hired hands looked like brothers. Their legs were slightly bowed from long days in the saddle, their faces were deeply tanned, they wore big hats that obscured their faces and bright handkerchiefs knotted around their necks. Shelby liked the music of their jingling spurs and the sharp sound of boot heels on the wooden floor.