Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron

by Patricia Watters

  Before Priscilla could argue against his points and belittle herself, as she had a penchant for doing, he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. And she threw her arms around him and kissed him back. Kissed him with eagerness and zeal.

  Stemming his desires, Adam broke the kiss and looked around to see if anyone was watching and saw several members of the Stock Grower's Association staring at them. It made no difference to him what they thought of him, but they could cause trouble for Priscilla if they had a mind to. Priscilla looked in the direction of his gaze, and said, "Who are they?"

  "Just some cattlemen."

  "They're glaring at us. Surely they don't think I'm a threat in any way. I'm simply a woman putting out a single page paper. A silly little scandal sheet, as you pointed out."

  "Don't worry about them," Adam said. "And I apologize for calling The Town Tattler that. I was angry and I didn't mean it. You've done well by yourself. It seems the women here, including my mother, view it as the Gospel."

  "Have you read it?" Priscilla asked.

  "Well... no," Adam admitted.

  Priscilla pinned him with a pair of challenging hazel eyes. "Are you not interested in what I've put together? Or what Trudy has written?"

  Adam looked at her, contrite. "Yes, but I've been so busy preparing my campaign speech that I haven 't had time."

  "Then I suggest you take the time," Priscilla said, miffed. "There could be something in it that gives those men over there a reason to be suspicious and hostile towards me."

  "I'll read it when I get a chance," Adam said. "Meanwhile, I'd better get ready to deliver my speech, but I'll come by your place tonight. We have some long overdo business to tend to."

  "No, we don't," Priscilla said. "I'll hear your speech, but before I'll feel confident that you've truly changed your views on things that matter to me, some time will have to pass." She looked beyond him, and her face darkened.

  Adam turned and saw the outspoken woman from the Town Tattler meeting who'd defended Priscilla against him the night he arrived during the meeting. The look on the woman's face said it all. "I'd better leave you," he said. "That women is shooting visual daggers at us."

  "Yes," Priscilla replied, "she most certainly is."

  As soon as Adam disappeared into the crowd, Priscilla went to stake out a spot from which to watch him deliver his speech. She hoped he'd be convincing, because she wanted a reason to respect him and love him and have him come to her and bring to fruition the images of his words. As she looked over the crowd she saw, some distance from the speaker's platform, a grouping of what were obviously homesteaders and farmers, all dressed in their best, yet falling far short of the latest in fashions. But closer in, the gathering of people were clearly cattlemen and their wives and families.

  She waited while several candidates gave their presentations—empty words designed to sway the voters. Then the platform cleared, and as attendants had done before each speaker, they rearranged the chairs on the platform behind the podium in preparation for family members. After the attendants stepped down, Lady Whittington and Adam's children, including Trudy, paraded in, stepped onto the platform and sat in the chairs behind where Adam would stand. On the ground, and off to one side, was the covey of young women, waiting in eager anticipation. Each one, Priscilla was certain, fashioned herself becoming Lady Adam Whittington. But when she'd noticed Adam with them earlier, he'd shown no sign of interest in any of them.

  As Priscilla contemplated the women, while waiting for Adam to step onto the platform, the outspoken woman from the Town Tattler meeting, who she'd seen watching her and Adam earlier, walked up to stand beside her, and said in a hostile tone, "You're one of them, cozyin' up to Lord Whittington like you did, talkin' out of both sides of your face."

  "I am not one of them," Priscilla insisted. "Lord Whittington and I are just friends."

  The woman let out a short guffaw. "I saw him kiss you and you kiss him back. You can't think a man like him is after you. He's either sweet talkin' you to get you in bed or to keep you from writing bad things in your paper about him and them cattlemen. Take a long look in the mirror, woman. Ask yourself what a man like him would want with you. He'll string you along 'til he gets what he wants. And it's not you for his wife he's after, and don't you forget it."

  The woman ambled off, leaving Priscilla to face the whole hideous truth. And the truth was, Adam wanted to be mayor so he could set into place rules that would run the homesteaders out of the territory, and he was primed to give a speech designed to put her on his side, in any way he could, because he needed the women's votes to get there. And she was the key to that.

  Deciding it was pointless to hear what he had to say, she turned and pressed her way through the crowd to where her Rover stood waiting, and started back to town.

  CHAPTER TEN

  'Do not tell secrets to those whose faith and

  silence you have not already tested.'

  — Elizabeth I to Erik, King of Sweden, in 1561.

  Priscilla intercepted Adam as he was leaving the Cheyenne Club—an impressive two-story building with a wrap-around porch and ornate, double-glass front doors with polished brass fittings—and said, "Adam, can I speak with you for a moment?"

  Adam looked at her, puzzled. They hadn't spoken since the picnic over a week before. She knew he was busy with the campaign. Still, she wondered why he hadn't come by, if only to talk to her...

  ...take a long look in the mirror.. ask yourself what a man like him would want with you...

  And there was no question. Adam had been trying to get her into bed, though not without encouragement on her part. But now she had other matters to occupy her mind, and further doubts about Adam and the cattlemen with whom he had just parted company.

  Although she hadn't heard his speech at the fairgrounds, she'd heard others talking about it, and from what she could tell, he'd said everything she would have expected a man to say in order to get the votes of the homesteaders and their wives. Especially the wives. He'd appealed to their protective instincts, trying to convince them that with him as mayor, he'd work tirelessly to bring peace between the cattlemen and the homesteaders. Then he'd outlined all the things he'd mentioned to her, none of which she truly believed.

  "What is this about?" he asked in a clipped dry tone, his gaze shifting between her and the woman standing beside her.

  "This is Jeanette Jamison," Priscilla said. "You need to hear what she has to say. It's about a friend of hers, a woman who has a quarter-section claim between Horse Creek and the Sweetwater river." Priscilla eyed Adam, and although he said nothing, the guarded look on his face told her he knew exactly who she was talking about. "Cattlemen are trying to drive the woman off her land by claiming she's rustling cattle." She nudged the woman. "Go ahead, Jeanette. Tell Lord Whittington what you told me about Ella Watson."

  Adam glanced back at the Cheyenne Club, where several men stood on the porch, watching them intently, then he returned to Priscilla, and said, "Baseless Rumors are being circulated that cattlemen are harassing many people, including Miss Watson, but most of them are just that. Baseless. I suggest you stay out of it." He started to walk off.

  Priscilla reached out and grabbed his arm. "This is not a baseless rumor, Adam. This woman has a first-hand account of an incident where Ella Watson was threatened by a member of the stock grower's association. You need to listen to what she has to say."

  "Ella Watson is suspected of cattle rustling," Adam said. "Her claim sits in the middle of prime grazing land, and cattle have been disappearing from the herds ranging there and turning up among her stock."

  "But that's not true," Priscilla insisted. "She's being accused of stealing cattle, but she has papers for every animal she owns. If you'll listen to what Miss Jamison has to say, you'll know that the woman is being threatened, not because she's stealing cattle, but because her claim is in the middle of prime grazing land. Accusing her of cattle rustling is an excuse to hang her and take her land."


  "I know the men in the stock grower's association and they don't go around falsely accusing people of stealing cattle," Adam said with firm conviction. "Besides, no one's going to hang a woman." He glanced around again, and when Priscilla looked in the direction of his gaze, she saw several more men standing on the porch of the Cheyenne Club, all eyes on them.

  She turned from the staring eyes of the men, and said to Adam, "You keep looking around at those men. Are you worried that they know who Miss Jamison is, and might already know what she has to say?"

  "Look, I know all about the Watson woman and what's going on in that so-called roadhouse of Jim Averell's."

  "Then you're a victim of lies that are being circulated," Priscilla said. "If your stockmen friends are innocent of all wrongdoing in regards to Miss Watson, they should be eager to listen to what Miss Jamison has to say, and then set things straight."

  "Like I said before, stay out of it," Adam said. "Any information Miss Jamison has should go directly to the sheriff. That's all I intend to say about it."

  When he started off again, Priscilla grabbed his arm, and said, "Do not walk away from me, Adam. I'm not through yet. You told me to let you know when I finally figured out if you were in there among the cattlemen in their attacks on the homesteaders. Well, if you walk away from me now, without listening to what Miss Jamison has to say, I'll take it as your answer, and we will have no further contact."

  The muscles in Adam's jaws bunched. "I'll listen, but you have no idea what you're doing... who you're dealing with, going against the stock grower's association. They're fed up with cattle rustlers, and anyone who sides with them will be a target."

  "But we're not siding with cattle rustlers," Priscilla insisted. "Ella Watson has papers for all of her animals, but when she offered to show them to the cattlemen who've been threatening her, they refused to look at them and rode off. They want her land and they'll stop at nothing to take it from her. If you don't believe me, listen to what Miss Jamison has to say." Priscilla turned to Jeanette Jamison. "Go ahead, tell Lord Whittington what you told me. Start at the beginning."

  Jeanette Jamison twisted a handkerchief between her fingers as she began to tell the story. "After Ella divorced her husband she moved around and ended up in Rawlins, where she worked in the Rawlins House Hotel to earn her keep. I was working there too, and we became friends. That's where Ella met Jim Averell. He told her about land next to his that she could homestead, so she went to work for Mr. Averell as a cook at his roadhouse, made her claim, and built a cabin." Jeanette looked anxiously at the men standing on the porch of the Cheyenne Club

  Seeming reluctant to continue, Priscilla said, "Go ahead. Tell him the rest." She glanced over at the men, and added, "Maybe its time those men heard the truth."

  Jeanette turned anxious eyes on Adam, and said in a hushed voice that would strain the ears of the men, "Ella said that—" her eyes darted to the gathering of men "—one of the gentlemen in the stockmen's association approached her about buying her claim. He's angry because Ella's land's in the middle of his best grazing land and it cuts him off from the water he's been using. When she refused to sell, the newspaper that's owned by the stock growers association started running false stories about her, claiming she's a cattle rustler and a prostitute. Yesterday Ella found a skull and crossbones outside her door."

  "If you'll excuse us, Miss Jamison," Adam said, taking Priscilla's arm, "I'd like to speak with Miss Phipps alone." He pulled Priscilla out of hearing range of both the woman and the men at the Cheyenne Club, and said, "You don't know that this woman's telling you the truth. You don't know either of the woman, do you?"

  "Well, no," Priscilla admitted.

  "Then how can you be certain the newspaper's printing false stories? Your paper prints erroneous stories based on hearsay all the time. I know, because my mother follows your gossip column. But what you're about to jump into is not an exchange of barbs between women with petty grievances. You'll be firing shots at men with money and power. If there's any truth to what the woman's saying, you'll be their next target. If the woman's story has no basis, you'll stir up a hornet's nest. Either way, your paper will be shut down. I'm warning you not to get involved in this."

  "You're warning me?" Priscilla twisted her arm from Adam's grasp. "You're beginning to sound exactly the way the women at my town meeting described you." She let out a short snort of disgust. "But then, that's not so surprising since you are one of them, maybe not threatening anyone, but like all the other cattlemen around here you want the homesteaders to go back where they came from, and you won't be satisfied until every last one of them have been driven off their land. Well, I happen to be on the opposite side from you, and The Town Tattler will feature Ella Watson's account of what happened as soon as I have a chance to go out there and listen to what she has to say."

  Adam looked at her in alarm. "Don't be so bloody pigheaded! Drop the story for your own safety. I know these men. They intend to protect what's theirs, and the fact is, homesteaders are building up herds by rustling cattle from open-range stock. You have no proof that Ella Watson isn't doing the same thing. If you take sides in this, you'll be coming up against some powerful and potentially ruthless men."

  "The fact that you refer to the men as potentially ruthless leads me to believe that they are guilty of everything Ella Watson claims," Priscilla said. "And I never intended to take sides at all, but I can't stand by and let this happen. Homesteaders need to know what's going on so they can prepare to defend themselves. If I say nothing I'm no better than the men making the threats."

  "Who are the men?" Adam asked.

  Priscilla shrugged. "Jeanette didn't say."

  "Then you can't be sure the women has the story straight."

  "That's precisely why I intend to ride out to Ella Watson's cabin and talk to her. I'll decide then if her story is true. If it is, it will appear in the next issue of The Town Tattler."

  Adam stared at her, the muscles in his jaw flexing. "Then I'll go with you," he said, with resolve. "I don't want you riding out there alone."

  "You have no say in what I do, Adam," Priscilla said. "And the last thing I want is someone from the stock grower's association with me when I'm trying to get the truth from Ella Watson. Besides, I have no way of knowing if you might not go back to your associates and warn them about a breaking story aimed at them."

  "If that's all the faith you have in me," Adam said, "then there really is nothing left between us." When he turned to go, Priscilla stopped him with her hand on his arm.

  He looked over his shoulder.

  "All right. You can go with me," she said, " but let me do the talking. I'll tell Ella Watson you're trying to get to the bottom of things. Am I right about that?" She held his gaze while waiting for his reply.

  "I guess you'll find out in due course." Adam shrugged off her hand and walked on.

  "I plan to leave first thing tomorrow," she called after him. He kept walking.

  ***

  Adam arrived in a buggy the following morning, driving it himself. He greeted Priscilla with a dour look on his face, and made no attempt to kiss her or touch her, other than to hold her elbow as he helped her up into the buggy.

  He gave the command, and as they were making their way out of town, Priscilla was the first to speak. "I know you want to believe that the men you spend time with at the Cheyenne Club are innocent of all wrong doing," she said, "but they're not. They're spreading rumors that Ella Watson is a prostitute just because she worked at the Rawlins House for a couple of years as a cook and domestic. But the Rawlins House is not a brothel. It's a boarding house. According to Miss Jamison, Jim Averell was staying at the Rawlins House while filing his homestead claim when he offered Ella a job as cook at his roadside inn. She worked for him there before filing her own claim on the tract of land adjacent to his."

  "Everyone knows the woman's been living out there with a man not her husband," Adam said. "And Averell's place is a roadhouse where
men stay. It's not too hard to figure out how the Watson woman made the money to build a cabin and put up fences."

  "Just because she's living at a roadhouse does not make her a prostitute," Priscilla clipped. "Besides, if sharing a bed with a man makes a woman a prostitute, then my sharing my bed with you would make me the same, except that at least Ella Watson got paid as a cook. You, on the other hand, never offered to pay for my services the night you sent everyone to the theater so you could have me in your bed. But I suppose that's because I was the one insisting you take my virginity, so perhaps I should have offered to pay you for your services."

  "There's no bloody way in hell you can compare what's between us with what's going on with Ella Watson at Jim Averell's roadhouse."

  "Yes, I suppose you're right," Priscilla said, "because Ella Watson told Miss Jamison that she and Jim Averell were married. Another reason the rumors are false."

  "Married!" Adam let out a short guffaw. "Then I assume you checked the records to make sure that part of her story is true?" he asked.

  "Well, actually I did," Priscilla said, "and they did apply for a marriage license, though I found no record of them actually marrying yet, which might be because the Homestead Act allows only one claim per family. But it should not be long before Ella Watson will have fulfilled the requirements of her claim and they can get married, which will give them three-hundred-and-twenty acres together. According to Miss Jamison, in addition to the cabin, Ella Watson's dug irrigation ditches and built corrals and fenced in for cattle. But when she tried to get a registered brand for her cattle, she was denied."