Wyoming Wildfire (36 page)

“You and Burch have been fighting again,” Augusta sighed, “and I thought you were getting along at last.”

“No more than usual, but he’s leaving right after you, so I’ll have weeks of solitude to recover my temper. Now you hurry downstairs before Lasso marches in here and carries you out over his shoulder.”

“As if he would.”

“That’s exactly what he
would
do if he thought anything was going to keep you from him one minute longer than was absolutely necessary.”

Augusta turned pink with pleasure. “You know, when I decided to come with you, I never thought to be married myself. It was the furthest thing from my mind that with you so young, beautiful, smart, and rich anyone would even notice me. I hoped so fervently that you could find the kind of happiness I have found with Lasso. I thought that maybe Burch …” Her sentence trailed off.

“It looks like I’m the one who shouldn’t be thinking of marriage,” Sibyl said, trying to keep her feeling of total desolation out of her voice. “And Burch is certainly not the answer to my prayers or my needs, however much he may be chased after by other women.”

“I wouldn’t place too much importance in that. After all, he didn’t get caught,” Augusta said, moving briskly to collect her purse and hat. “But he’s not going to stay that way forever.”

“I know. It’s a good thing I didn’t sell my house. At least I’ll have some place to go back to.”

Augusta studied her niece’s face closely and did not like what she found. “I don’t think you will find Virginia the same as you left it.”

Sibyl did not reply and they walked downstairs without another word.

Augusta was immediately engulfed by well-wishers, and except for a kiss and a softly whispered, “May you someday be as happy as I am today,” Sibyl was unable to speak to her or even touch her again. Suddenly she felt terribly alone. For the first time in her life, she was without her mother or her aunt. She was on her own.

No sooner had the wedded couple departed than there was a flurry of packing and stowing gear into wagons, bedrolls, and even knapsacks. In less than an hour, Sibyl and Burch found themselves alone with Emma.

“I don’t know what has happened to Auggie,” she reiterated, rather unconvincingly. “He knows he has to take me to Cheyenne. I’m worried that something may have happened to him.”

“Probably lost his way,” said Burch, wishing Emma anywhere but the Elkhorn. “Or forgot what day it is.”

“Auggie’s not dumb,” Emma said, with no fraternal feeling, “but it’s a fact he can’t manage the ranch alone. My husband will have to be an expert rancher. Naturally, he will have a free hand at the T-Bar.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I leave you to Burch while I see about returning this house to some semblance of order,” snapped Sibyl. “As for your
expert rancher,
you’d better hurry and find him before your springtime bloom matures into summer’s squash.”

“I have to go out on the line this afternoon,” Burch told Sibyl, ignoring Emma’s indignant gasp. Sibyl didn’t answer but just stared at Burch, waiting for him to continue.

“I want to talk with you before I leave.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to hurry. I have a lot to do.” Burch looked so pointedly at Emma she was forced to take the hint.

“Talking secrets? Well, I guess I should see about packing my clothes. But what will I do if Auggie doesn’t show up tomorrow?”

“Stay here till he does,” said Burch, anxious to get rid of her. But Emma was only too pleased to go; she had gotten what she wanted and could tell from the stony look in Sibyl’s eye that their quarrel would not be resolved today.

“May I have my same room?”

“You can have any damned room you want,” Burch answered so impatiently that Emma almost laughed to herself.

“It’s a shame you’re not brother and sister. Then you could have a
real
fight,” she said, and walked out.

“I
detest
that female,” hissed Sibyl. “I never want to see her again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Emma….” Burch began, uninterested.

“I realize you think she’s a paragon, but I don’t happen to agree with you.”

“Why do we always end up talking about Emma?” he demanded in exasperation.

“Probably because you two act more like Siamese twins than old friends. I can’t see one without the other.”

“I go for weeks without giving her a thought.”

“Don’t let her hear that; it will break her heart.”

“I’m tired of talking about Emma. I want to talk about you.”

“Oh, I see, now that Emma’s about to leave, you have to look about for someone else and you’re ready to fall back on me, is that it?”

“I don’t know why you would say such a stupid thing, but no, that’s
not
it.”

“Now I’m back to being stupid, too. Oh well, I shouldn’t have expected my changed status to last very long. But then I’m just a female. Now that the company’s gone, I suppose I should go back to cooking and acting like a woman ought.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you. I thought you were looking forward to this party, but from the minute the first guest walked in that door, you’ve been like a snarling wildcat. You weren’t anywhere near this bad when you got “here.”

“There!” she said, pouncing like the wildcat he compared her to. “Now I know how you really feel about me.”

“I doubt you know how anybody feels about anything, and that includes yourself. I’ve never met anybody so full of foul humors, hot temper, and unreasoning fits. Your face and body nearly drive me crazy, but a man would be insane to let himself love you. It’d be safer to fall in love with a lynx.”

“Have you any more endearing observations to make?” she asked with freezing politeness. “Don’t feel obliged to hurry or leave anything out. The cleaning can wait.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t waste any more time. I thought I could talk some sense into you if I just got you alone, but I’ve got too much work to do to waste my time when you obviously aren’t going to listen to a word I have to say.”

Then don’t let me keep you, and please don’t feel you have to hurry back to protect me. Ned and Balaam are all I need.”

“Your temper is adequate protection against any man ever born,” Burch said, stalking from the room.

Sibyl remained standing, listening to his footsteps ascending the stairs. But when she heard Emma’s voice calling his name, a shattering sob shook her and she sank into the sofa, crying helplessly.

“Be sure you load these trunks tonight,” Sibyl told Ned. “I want to leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, miss? Winter is no time to be crossing the prairie.”

“It’s a damn fool thing to do,” insisted Balaam. “You wouldn’t get me to do it if you was to order me straight out. I don’t like the looks of that sky. We’re just as liable to have snow as a clear day.”

“All you have to do is load the wagon,” ordered Ned, speaking sharply, “and save your advice for those who ask for it.”

“Ones as needs it is always the last to ask,” prated Balaam, with all the impudence of an old decrepit. “Heading to Laramie in January is just begging for trouble.”

“I intend to stop overnight at ranches along the way,” Sibyl informed him. “Now stop arguing and get my other trunks. If neither of you wants to go, just say so. I can go by myself.”

“I’d take my chances with a blizzard before I’d let you go alone,” Balaam informed her ingeniously. “It’s for certain Mr. Burch would break my head if I was to let you jaunter off across the prairie without no one to look after you.”

“Don’t worry yourself about Mr. Randall. He won’t care what happens to me.”

“You
can say that, being as you won’t be here to catch it no matter what he does, but I ain’t a fool just because I’m old, and I know Mr. Burch is going to be powerful angry when he comes back and finds you ain’t here.”

“Maybe Miss Stratton’s brother will really lose his way, and shell be here to soften his anger.”

“Hmph!” snorted Balaam. “If that’s the female that’s been following him about like an extra arm, he won’t be pleased at all. I can’t see why any body’d want to marry her.”

“Marriage is not all that kind of female has to offer,” said Sibyl, unable to forget the picture of Burch’s muscled shoulders in Emma’s embrace. “Besides, not every man’s interested in marriage.”

“It’d be prison more like, but then there’s them that likes that pretty good too. Can’t say I ever took to it myself.”

“You mean you couldn’t find any woman foolish enough to tie herself up to a bag of creaking bones,” kidded Ned, who had grown rather fond of the old man.

“Well, it ain’t what I meant, but I never was much to look at, not like Mr. Burch or even Mr. Jesse. But then not every woman sets her sights quite so high.”

“Nor so low.”

“If you’re done trying to bait me, Ned Wright, you can pick up your end of this trunk and see if your arms is as powerful as you think your wit is. And don’t you think I’m done talking to you, Miss Sibyl, cause I’m not,” he informed her, bearing Ned and his end of the trunk away and leaving Sibyl to sink down on the bed, her heart warmed by Balaam’s gruff affection.

It had nearly crushed her spirits to pack, but when Burch left the ranch, she knew she couldn’t stay. If she had to be alone with him—and now that Augusta wasn’t there she most certainly would be alone—she doubted she would have the strength to resist him. She had come close to throwing herself into his arms several times during the last week, but something wouldn’t let her. Stubbornness, Augusta would call it. Empty Southern pride would no doubt be Burch’s description, but whatever it was, it was just enough to keep her from committing herself to a life of misery.

If she ever once gave in to him—and she knew she would if they were alone for even an hour—she would be trapped with nowhere to go and no excuse for not staying exactly where she was. How could she live with Burch, wondering if he bedded every woman who offered herself to him? With his looks and money, there would be a constant succession of women only too glad to spend a few hours with him, some hoping to entrap him, others just for the pleasure of spending a few hours in the arms of the kind of man most women could only dream about. That would kill her, and if she had to die, then she’d the with dignity.

“Not that it makes any difference in the end,” she muttered aloud. “What’s dignity after all?” But it
was
something; maybe not much, but it was better than nothing.

She rose with a cheerless demeanor and surveyed the room: Drawers and chests stood open, trunks stood ready to be corded, but she was taking none of the furnishings with her. She supposed she’d have to send for them in the end, but right now she wanted nothing to remind her of Wyoming.

“I brought you some dinner,” Rachel said, entering after her gentle knock. “Even you young people have to eat.”

“I think I could enjoy a little something,” she acknowledged, grateful and a little hungry, “but I’ve got to finish my packing.”

“You eat your dinner, I’ll do your packing. Just tell me where you want things.” But Rachel didn’t need any instructions, and while Sibyl ate she wondered about the tall, raw-boned woman who was so silent, such a loyal, hard worker.

“I know it’s not my place to interfere, miss, but I don’t think it’s wise to travel this time of year.”

“Balaam has already given me a long list of reasons for not going, but I must.”

Rachel seemed to study Sibyl closely, uncomfortably close, Sibyl thought. “Not all reasons seem so good once you’ve slept on them.”

“I’ve already slept on these, and I expect I’ll feel the same way in the morning.”

“Don’t you think you should wait a little longer?”

“Till when?”

Rachel folded two skirts before she answered. “You and Mr. Randall own this place together. There must be a lot of things to discuss.”

“The lawyers can do it just as well.” She pushed her plate away.

“Now I’ve gone and upset you,” Rachel apologized.

“No, it was a lovely dinner, but I really wasn’t very hungry. It seems like all I’ve done for days is eat.”

“You can’t fool me. I served every meal and you’re hardly touched a bite. If you get any thinner, the first cold wind will cut right through you.”

“I’ll be sure to wrap up very tightly.”

Rachel picked up the tray but turned back before she reached the door. “It’s not so bad only having part of a man’s love.” Sibyl stared openmouthed, but Rachel picked up the tray and left without saying any more.

“May I come in?” That voice was like a ragged blade across Sibyl’s nervous system. Emma entered, without waiting for an invitation. “I couldn’t believe it when that old man told me you were leaving.”

“So you had to come see for yourself?”

“I think it’s the most sensible thing you could do,” Emma answered, looking through Sibyl’s things like she was shopping. “I never did understand why an Easterner like you would want to come out to Wyoming.”

“Did it ever occur to you that
all
the first settlers were Easterners?” Sibyl inquired scathingly.

“You don’t have to get insulting” replied Emma, turning away from Sibyl’s open trunks with a deprecating sniff. “But you’re not like them.”