Silver Belles and Stetsons

by Caroline Clemmons

  “Forty-two. A lot has happened, though. If it weren’t for Birdie, I’d have been hanged for the murder of my first husband.”

  Celia leaned forward. “You can’t mean it? Hang a woman?”

  “Of course, the whole thing was trumped up. Fortunately, Joel was able to discover the real killer and insure my freedom.” She explained the circumstances of her escape and marriage to Joel Stone and how his family had nurtured her when her own kin turned their backs.

  Sally brought in a tray. The young woman appeared to be in her late teens. She set the refreshments on a table and left.

  Rosalyn served the fragrant brew and tiny cakes. “Now, that’s enough about me. What do you think of Radford Crossing?”

  She considered her words carefully and decided to be honest. “The town is nice and most of the people are friendly, but something’s wrong here. There’s no joy, no anticipation of the Christmas holidays, nothing. I’ve been thinking the community needs something festive to bring happiness to people’s faces and hearts.”

  “When that gang burned our church several months ago, the town’s spirit disappeared with the smoke. You can imagine how upsetting that event was.”

  She set down her delicate teacup. “But the church is rebuilt now. Dad said it’s larger and stronger than ever.”

  Rosalyn nodded and placed her saucer on the tray. “True, but I think people lost their sense of security. Buster Parish is a tough, fair sheriff and we have very little crime. Even so, I believe our citizens feel victimized and vulnerable.”

  Celia leaned forward. “Rosalyn, surely there’s something we can come up with to bring joy back to the community.”

  Rosalyn leaned back and beamed at her. “What a great suggestion. If you come up with specifics, I know how to put an idea into action. Joel and I want to have a dinner party to welcome you. That would be the perfect place to launch your plan. Will you and your parents be able to come Friday evening?”

  Celia experienced a surge of gratitude toward her former classmate. “I’m sure we can. Um, you won’t know, of course, but I’ve developed an aversion to crowds. How large a gathering do you have in mind?”

  Rosalyn laughed. “No cause for panic. This is a small community. If you invite this person, then you have to invite that one and so on. But I promise only nice people will be included.”

  Her friend had no way of knowing panic was precisely what consumed her the past few years when forced into crowded situations. The attacks had begun shortly after her marriage and her in-laws’ constant criticism. Rosalyn was doing her a good turn so she couldn’t appear unappreciative.

  Celia swallowed down the worries that stabbed her so often now. “All right, and thank you. Maybe working on this project will bring some sparkle back to Mother’s eyes. I’ve been very worried about her.”

  Rosalyn gave a solemn nod. “Truthfully, I’d noticed a change in Harriett over the past few months. When she mentioned you were moving here, I thought for certain having you near would brighten her mood.”

  Celia hugged her arms “Not that I can tell. All she talks about is how sad she is I lost the baby and that Jean-Claud died. I’m sorry, too, and don’t mean to sound otherwise. Grieving won’t bring them back, so I have to move on as well as I can. Honestly, Mother is so morose that I look forward to work each day.”

  Compassion shining from her eyes, Rosalyn smiled. “I’m sorry you’ve had such terrible losses, Celia. I suffered miscarriages before my first husband died and I understand how devastated you must feel. All I can offer is that with time the pain grows easier to bear.”

  “I hope so. Now that I’m here, the past seems more like a bad dream. I’d have an easier time if Mother would stop dwelling on the deaths day after day. She talks of nothing else.”

  Rosalyn offered her another cake. “I remember that your mother was awfully pleased you’d married into the Dubois family.”

  Before she could stop them, the words popped out, “Because she didn’t have to live with them. I view coming here as escaping a gilded cage. My in-laws were…” She dismissed those thoughts with a wave of her hand. “Never mind, now all we have to do is come up with a plan to return cheer to this community. Perhaps something with the children involved?”

  “Miss Gwen Jones, our new schoolteacher, might be willing to assist you. You can count on me. Both of my sisters-in-law and Joel’s two aunts probably will want to participate also. Oh, and the wife of our pastor and that of our newspaper owner are sure to want to help.”

  “How encouraging. Excitement in the project has my mind whirling with ideas. Perhaps mother will get involved and be in a more positive frame of mind.”

  Running feet preceded the entrance of a young girl and her dog. “Mama, guess what?” She stopped short when she spotted Celia. “Sorry, Mama, I didn’t realize we had a guest.”

  Rosalyn pulled her into a hug. “Lucy, this is Mrs. Dubois, a friend from when I was in school. She’s moved here to stay with her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sturdivant.”

  Lucy curtsied. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dubois.”

  “Hello, Lucy. Except for your brown hair, you look very much like your mother did at your age.”

  Lucy’s face beamed. “I do?”

  Rosalyn kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Run into the kitchen and Sally will give you a snack. I’ll be in later to hear all about your day.” When Lucy had hurried away, Rosalyn smiled. “I like to be home when Lucy gets in from school.”

  “Unlike our mothers.” But, Celia thought, at least her mother and father cared about their daughter. All either of Rosalyn’s parents cared about was prestige and money.

  Her mother wasn’t immune to wealth and social influence. She’d believed marrying into the Dubois family a grand coup. Celia gave herself a mental shake. Rehashing old hurts was not productive.

  “As lovely as sitting here visiting with you has been, Dad wanted me to return in time for him to work on the store’s accounts. I’ll see you on Friday evening. And thank you.”

  Chapter Two

  On the evening of the party, Celia wore her favorite dark green silk faille gown. The color flattered her skin and red hair. She stood where Rosalyn suggested and was introduced to each person or couple who arrived. She lost count of the number, but she suspected at least a couple of dozen attended. Little dinner party, my eye.

  The handsome man who’d watched her a few days earlier showed up with an older couple who could only be his parents. The father was dressed much like the son. Mrs. Montoya wore a lovely dress of burgundy taffeta trimmed in black lace. In her ebony hair she wore beautiful combs of ivory and silver.

  “Sofia and Jorge Montoya, may I present Mrs. Celia Dubois, daughter of Harriett and George Sturdivant? And this is their son, Eduardo.”

  The senior Montoyas offered the standard greetings and stepped back to await their son.

  Eduardo took her fingers in his, bowed low, and kissed her hand. “Enchanted, Señora Dubois. Welcome to our town. I look forward to becoming acquainted.”

  When their gazes met, his smoldering eyes surprised then paralyzed her. You’re not a schoolgirl, say something. Anything. “T-Thank you, Señor Montoya. I’m pleased for this opportunity to meet so many leading citizens at once.

  The Montoyas moved into the spacious parlor to make way for other guests. Celia sensed the heat of Eduardo’s stare. Whenever she glanced his way, he watched her no matter to whom he spoke. His scrutiny was in no way menacing, but as if he found her fascinating. Still, the attention added to her discomfort.

  Too many people filled the space. The room closed in around her. Air, she desperately needed more air. Rising dread threatened to cut off her breathing.

  Fortunately, Rosalyn diffused the panic when she clapped her hands for attention. “Please go on in and have a seat where you find your place card.”

  Eduardo appeared at Celia’s side. “May I escort you?”

  She laid her hand on the arm he proffered. “Thank you, Señor Monto
ya.”

  He guided her straight to where her place card assigned her.

  She looked up at him. “You knew where I would be seated?”

  His smile flashed beneath sparkling brown eyes. “But of course. You are the guest of honor, are you not? You will be at your host’s right.”

  She was being a suspicious ninny. After hundreds of dinner parties in her lifetime, how could she have forgotten where she would be seated? When he’d held her chair, she spotted his place next to hers but she said nothing. His cousin Hope and Micah Stone sat opposite them.

  Far down the table, Eduardo’s parents were seated across from hers. That fact worried her momentarily until she realized the Stone brothers’ aunts kept everyone chatting amiably. She’d already met the two kindly women at the mercantile and had fallen under their spell.

  During the meal, Joel Stone kept conversation flowing. She had time to admire the room and its furnishings. Imagine a table that could comfortably seat the twenty-six people present without crowding and the room to accommodate the furniture. Not what she expected to find in this isolated western town.

  Across the table, Hope pulled a shawl of what appeared to be delicate white cashmere around the shoulders of her exquisite aqua gown.

  From beside Celia, Eduardo asked her, “Are you also too cool, Señora? If so, I will find your wrap.”

  “Thank you, but I’m quite comfortable. I was just admiring the room.”

  He put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, you will set Joel into the story of how he came to own this house and buy this table and chairs.”

  Joel pretended to be offended. “Just for that, I should tell the story very slowly, including every tiny, minute detail.”

  Eduardo and Micah groaned but Hope laughed.

  Joel added his laughter to Hope’s. “All right. I’ll save the tale for another time with a more receptive and polite audience.”

  Celia smiled at Joel. “I must confess, Rosalyn told me how you secured the house from a family moving further west. And also that you and Luther have been steadily finishing the rooms. I didn’t have time for a tour then. Perhaps sometime in the future you’ll show me through your home.”

  Joel sent the other two men a satisfied smirk. “That would be my pleasure, Celia.”

  Micah chuckled. “Aw, Celia, you’re only encouraging him. My brother loves this house and never misses a chance to talk about it.”

  She was surprised at the easy use of her first name, but decided in this setting and this far west, customs were more relaxed.

  “I have to admit I don’t blame you, Joel. When my parents invited me to join them here, I pictured a more rustic community. So far, I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”

  A wide smile split her host’s face. “It’s a far cry from New Orleans, but we have a great deal to offer and are a vibrant community. We’ve grown to over three hundred people with over two dozen businesses.”

  Hope patted her husband’s hand. “The Stone brothers have made the community’s welfare their mission.”

  Celia looked from her host to his brother. “Perhaps you can tell me the answer to something I keep forgetting to ask my parents. Many businesses here are labeled Stone Mountain this or that yet the town appears to be in a valley. Is there an actual Stone Mountain and, if so, where is it?”

  Micah nodded down the table to his other brother. “Although he doesn’t live there now, Zach bought most of the mountain just west of town. The appearance is more like a big hill, but geologically that and the rest of the Palo Pinto range are genuine mountains.”

  Eduardo leaned near. “Recently, several of us helped add rooms to the small cabin Zach had built on his mountain. Now he leases that house and the land around it to a family.”

  When she regarded him, he asked quietly, “I know we have only been introduced this evening, Señora, but may I also address you as Celia?”

  Caught off guard, she nodded. “Of course. The rigid manners of society appear more casual here.”

  His smile was brilliant. “I am grateful, Celia. You must call me Eduardo.”

  “Tell me about your home and ranch, Eduardo.”

  “Although I would prefer speaking of you, I will do as you ask. Our ranch is about an hour from here by buggy or a third that time by horseback. The ranch of my cousins Hope and Micah adjoins mine along the Brazos River. Only this week, with Joel’s legal services, Micah and I were able to purchase the land across the river which had once belonged to my family. That is, Hope’s and my family.”

  “Congratulations. And your home?”

  “My cousins live in the home built by Hope’s and my great grandfather, although our grandfather extended the size. My father planned the home shared by my parents and me, but it is in the Spanish style. This you will see when you come to dine.”

  He was very sure of himself. She should be annoyed, but for some unknown reason she wasn’t offended. She noticed the smile Hope and Micah shared at Eduardo’s declaration. She was saved from answering when Rosalyn stood and tapped her crystal goblet with a spoon for attention.

  “Joel and I are so pleased you could come tonight to welcome my childhood friend, Mrs. Celia Dubois, to our town. She’s had a wonderful idea she and I wanted to share. Celia, why don’t you explain?”

  Celia peered at those around the table. “I realize I’m new to the community, but I’ve come to appreciate what a special town we have. When the banditos burned the church, they also took something from the community. To me, the town lacks the Christmas spirit. I believe if several of us concentrate and combine ideas, we can restore the joy to the season and the residents.”

  Celia watched nervously as people murmured to one another. She held her breath and hoped for good results.

  Midway down the table, Gwen Jones raised her hand. “I know the children would love to participate. If you’re forming a committee, I’d love to be included.”

  Celia exhaled her relief.

  Eduardo placed his hand over hers. “You can count on me.”

  The minister’s wife waved her hand. “That’s a wonderful idea. I want to join.”

  One by one, almost every woman present and several men had volunteered.

  Buoyed by the response, Celia smiled. “We can start with a decorating contest among the businesses. I’ll donate a prize to three winners.”

  John Henderson nodded. “I’ll cover the activities in the newspaper. And I’ll bet Dad would agree to judge the results.”

  Judge Henderson gave a little salute of agreement.

  Celia had thought she’d have to sell the idea, but so far no one spoke against her project. “Gwen and Melissa, perhaps you can teach your charges Christmas carols. I imagine they’re familiar with most of them.”

  Erna Baldwin volunteered, “We used to have a little pageant until Mr. Turnborough and his ten kids moved away.” She paused until the chuckles died. “I think we have enough children again. Am I right, Miss Jones?”

  The teacher nodded. “Yes, there are nineteen students in school most days plus younger brothers and sisters. We might be able to recruit some of the teens like Sally and Alvie Bettinger.”

  Within an hour, plans had been formulated and assignments made. Guests began making their goodbyes. Still Eduardo remained beside her until his father and mother walked over.

  “Son, your mother tires and the hour grows late. We should go home.”

  “As you wish, Papa. I will say my goodbyes.” Eduardo raised her hand to his lips. “Meeting you has been a genuine pleasure, Celia. You may count on me to help with your project. I await your bidding.”

  When the Montoyas had gone, Celia’s parents appeared and the three of them bid the Stones goodbye.

  At home, her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Did I hear that man address you by your first name? What impudence.”

  Celia shed her wrap. “I gave him permission, Mama. People are less formal here than in New Orleans.”

  Her father gently turned her toward him. “He’
s not our type, dear. Obviously he’s smitten with you, which is to his credit, but don’t encourage him.”

  Anger boiled inside her. “Not our type?” She pulled away from her father. “What a terrible thing to say. Excuse me, but I’m going to bed.” She left the room before she unleashed her tongue and created a serious rift.

  All her life, her parents had been overly conscious of class and social standing as well as being overprotective. While they hadn’t been as severe as Rosalyn’s parents, they had pressured her to marry Jean-Claud Dubois. She had eventually come to care for him, but if she ever remarried she would make her own choice. And she’d accept nothing less than love.

  **

  Eduardo held the ribbons, but the horse knew the way home without guidance. He’d seen the wary glances from Celia’s parents all evening. He was used to those prejudices by now, but he worried the Sturdivants might discourage Celia from associating with him.

  His father asked, “You are interested in Señora Dubois?”

  “Very much so.”

  “We could send for a bride from Spain or Mexico City if you are ready to marry and start a family.”

  “You have offered before and I am grateful. I know I can count on you both. My heart is set on her if she will have me. She allows me to call her Celia.”

  His mother raised her head from his father’s shoulder. “We sat across from her parents at dinner. They were polite but obviously do not approve of us.”

  Papa harrumphed. “They do not mind us spending our money on supplies from their store, do they?”

  He gave a little snap to the reins. “Since those terrible banditos attacked the church, many people are angry with us. They see no difference in the banditos versus us or the respectable Mexicans. This will be true until something else occurs to take their minds away from that tragedy.”

  His mama sighed. “Then I pray that the Christmas project will work magic.”

  “So do I, Mama. So do I.”

  Chapter Three

  Early Saturday morning, Celia carried a newspaper into the store. “John must have worked very late last night. His lead story is the decorating contest.”