"He probably went off with George," Rose suggested. "He's been looking for a farm to winter cattle."
"Couldn't have," Mrs. Abbott said. "Lottie Murphy told me she saw Mr. Randolph heading out of town not fifteen minutes after Fern and Mr. Madison left here."
"Maybe some business came in by the mail," Rose said. "His firm has him looking into various projects while he's out here. He probably got so involved he forgot. You know how men are about business." Rose led Fern into the parlor away from Mrs. Abbott's doomsday announcements. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he'll be irritated with himself when he realizes he failed to meet you. Why don't you go to the Drovers Cottage? Maybe it'll give him such a nasty shock he won't forget again. He sounds more like Monty every day."
Fern bit her tongue. She found it increasingly difficult to tolerate Rose's unfavorable comparisons without making a rebuttal.
As she hurried along the street to the Drovers Cottage, she wondered what kind of business Madison had been doing. She had been so caught up in her own troubles she hadn't even noticed. It worried her. She had nothing to offer him that could compare to Boston. She could almost see his former life reaching out to draw him back. She pushed that thought aside. It didn't matter. She was going to refuse him. She just wanted to know he was okay.
She couldn't miss the looks which followed her down the street. They seemed more numerous than normal. She didn't imagine it was sympathy for her father's death. They weren't sympathetic glances. They were openly curious, even speculative. Then she remembered. She had started wearing her hair down and leaving off the sheepskin vest, because of Madison. She might be wearing pants, but there was no doubt she was a woman. It was that fact that turned the glances into stares.
That made her uneasy. She wondered if she would ever be comfortable having men stare at her. She made a mental note to put her hair up and take out the vest once more. Madison would soon be going home. After that it wouldn't matter what she looked like.
She was relieved to reach the Drovers Cottage. She hurried into the relative privacy of the lobby only to be brought up by a shock as devastating as an earthquake. Madison was seated on a couch in one of the small alcoves. Next to him sat the most beautiful woman Fern had ever seen.
She didn't need anyone to tell her this woman and the man seated on her other side had come from Boston. It leaped out at her. Everything about them spoke of a world of wealth and sophistication completely beyond Fern's experience.
Just looking at this woman make Fern feel ugly. She wished she could have been almost any other place else on earth.
Fern tried to back out of the hotel, to run away before Madison noticed her, but it was too late. Even as she gasped in dismay, he saw her and came to his feet.
"Fern, come here. There's somebody I want you to meet."
Fern couldn't remember when she had seen Madison so cheerful. He smiled at her, but he smiled because of this woman.
Fern wanted to hate her. She would have if the woman had shown even the tiniest trace of shock, surprise, or disapproval at Fern's appearance. But she didn't. She rose to her feet, a welcoming smile nearly as broad as Madison's on her lips.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. Not even Rose could match this woman for loveliness. If Boston was full of women like this, she couldn't understand why Madison ever left.
In contrast to the cream color of her plain skirt, the woman wore a Spanish jacket decorated with deep red scroll braid, pleated fabric ruffles, and innumerable tiny buttons. Her hat was decorated with ribbons, puffs and feathers. But Fern's eyes were drawn first to her dark brown hair, blue eyes, pink bow mouth, and absolutely flawlessly white skin.
It was stupid to think Madison would be interested in her when he was obviously on the friendliest of terms with this stunning creature.
She had thought all along Madison had mistaken his heart, but she had let herself hope he might love her. Even though she dreaded it, she had been looking forward to his coming out to the farm. Even though she knew it must end, she prized every moment with him.
It hurt more than she could say that this woman only had to appear in Abilene to make Madison forget her. She was angry and jealous, and the fact that she was being totally irrational made no difference at all.
But as she stood there, gaping, her entire world crumbling around her, her pride wouldn't let her allow Madison or this beautiful woman suspect she was dying inside. She forced a smile and allowed Madison to drag her forward.
"This is the Fern Sproull," Madison said, introducing her. "She's been out on her farm--"
He broke off; the smile slid from his face.
"I was supposed to ride back with you."
"That's all right. I didn't get lost," Fern said, striving for a light tone. She didn't want anybody to suspect she had spent the last hour agonizing over why Madison hadn't come to meet her, that she had spent the entire day agonizing over her love for him.
"I got so busy talking to Samantha and Freddy I forgot all about the time."
"Since Madison can't seem to keep his mind on anything for more than a minute, I guess I'd better introduce myself," the woman said. "I'm Samantha Bruce and this is my brother, Frederick. We've known Madison ever since I can remember."
Fern didn't know how fancy ladies greeted one another, so she gave the gloved hand extended to her a hearty shake and hoped there was no dirt on her buckskin gloves to soil Miss Bruce's cream colored mittens.
"Sorry I'm such a mess, but as Madison said, I've been on the farm all day."
"Madison has been telling us of your misfortunes. You are a very brave woman."
The worst part was Fern could tell Miss Bruce meant what she said. She couldn't hate anyone who was so genuinely sympathetic, no matter how beautiful she was.
"It's not very brave when you're doing the only thing you can," Fern said.
"It is when you do it with courage," Samantha said, "and from what Madison has been telling us, you've got plenty of that."
"I'm sure he exaggerated," Fern said, embarrassed. She was unused to compliments. She kept thinking Miss Bruce must be making fun of her.
"Madison exaggerate?" Freddy quizzed with a lazy laugh. "I've never known a more matter-of-fact person in my life.”
Yes, Madison did exaggerate. He couldn't have loved her very much. Samantha Bruce was exceedingly beautiful, but if a man loved you, wouldn't he remember you, even in the presence of a more beautiful woman?
Maybe, but if the woman he loved was as unattractive as Fern, maybe not.
"Madison has been trying to cheer me up," Fern said. "I don't believe half the things he's said." Madison looked sharply at her. "Did he tell you he bought me a house so I'd have some place to live? He didn't warn me or anything, just bought it, had it carted out to the farm, and set up with furniture and everything. A man who'd do that would say practically anything."
Fern was doing everything she could to hold back the tears, but she could feel them pooling in her eyes.
"I didn't do anything I didn't want to do," Madison said.
"You're a fine gentleman," Fern said. "I didn't think so at first, but you are."
"I didn't do it because I'm a gentleman," Madison protested.
"That makes it even better." She turned to Miss Bruce. "Well, I'm real glad I got to meet you, ma'am, but I've got to go. If I don't get cleaned up, Mrs. Abbott won't let me come to the table." She started to leave.
"I'm coming with you," Madison said.
"No, you stay with your friends. You can't leave them on their first night in town. I'll tell Rose so she won't worry."
"Fern, wait! I'll be right back," Madison said to Freddy and Samantha and hurried after Fern.
"A most extraordinary young woman," Freddy said. "I could hardly believe my eyes when she walked through the door."
"I shouldn't have expected her to be anything else," Samantha replied. "I would never have expected Madison to fall in love with any but the most exceptional female."
"Madiso
n, in love with her! You can't be serious."
"I could see it the moment he mentioned her name."
"Oh my dear sister, I'm so sorry."
* * * * *
"Dammit, wait up," Madison called as he hurried after Fern. If she had been wearing skirts like a sensible woman, she wouldn't be able to walk so fast. Then he wouldn't have to mortify himself chasing after her in front of half the town. He could see the amused smiles, imagine them telling their friends over a drink how Fern Sproull had the Yankee tenderfoot wriggling on a spit like a stuck pig. Knowing he was likely to be the butt of jokes in a half dozen saloons didn't improve his temper.
"If you don't slow down, Fern, I'll--"
"Go back to your friends, Madison. Go back to Boston where you belong."
"Boston and my friends have nothing to do with this," Madison said, catching her by the hand and forcing her to turn to face him. "What do you mean saying I said things I didn't mean just to make you feel better?"
"Well--"
"Dammit, Fern. You can't toss an accusation like that at a man and then walk off."
"Why not? You said you were coming out to the ranch but you didn't."
She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't help it. The pain of one more rejection made her lash out. It helped her protect herself, keep herself under control until she could be alone.
"I never expected to see Samantha out here. It surprised me so much I forgot."
"She was accompanied by her brother, or haven't you noticed him yet?"
"Of course I noticed Freddy, but his coming didn't surprise me. It was Samantha."
"Oh, she's too good for Kansas, is she? Afraid some of our dirt might rub off on her?"
"Don't be stupid."
"So now I'm stupid again. I should have expected it. People from Kansas can't stay intelligent very long. Apparently I used up my whole supply in just a few weeks."
"Now you're being absurd. You know I didn't mean anything like that. Are you jealous of Samantha or are you just angry I forgot?"
"Neither," Fern snapped. "I'd never waste my time being jealous because of some man. As for your not coming out to the ranch, I admit I did expect you. You've fallen into the habit of doing just about everything I don't want you to do. I was also foolish enough to be worried something might have happened to you."
"I said I was sorry," Madison repeated. "We got to talking and it was later than I thought."
"Well I'm sure you've got lots more to talk about. Don't let me keep you. Will you bring them by the house later, or would you prefer Rose and George meet you at the hotel?"
"When you get your teeth into a man, you rip and tear for all you're worth, don't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I thought you were different from other women, but apparently it makes no difference whether you wear pants or skirts, you all fall into jealous fits if a man even speaks to another woman."
"I've got better things to do with my time than be jealous of a conceited greenhorn from Boston," Fern shouted, oblivious to the eager ears listening from all sides. "I wouldn't care if you talked to a hundred women."
"I'm not sure if I have the strength for that many," Madison shot back, "especially if they're like you."
"You don't have to waste any of your precious strength on me. Or your false promises," she flung at him, remembering his words of love.
"I meant them, but I thought I was talking to a different person."
"Then it's good you found out in time."
"It certainly is."
Fern turned and all but ran from Madison. The sobs in her chest choked her. She refused to cry on the street, but she didn't think she could hold them for a minute longer.
She hadn't realized until now how much she depended on being the sole object of his attention. She would never have believed she could have acted like a jealous shrew, but she had. She had at least a dozen witnesses to confirm the fact in case she had any doubts.
But what could he expect her to do? Not eight hours earlier he had insisted he loved her. She had spent the whole day agonizing with herself over how to tell him she didn't love him when she loved him desperately. She had opened up the old wounds to see if they might be healed. She had subjected herself to pain and hideous memories that had haunted her for years, and for what? For him to forget her when this childhood friend came into town.
She probably shouldn't blame Madison. No doubt he believed every word he said that morning. It was just that after he saw Samantha he couldn't remember Fern anymore.
Fern turned up the short walk to Mrs. Abbott's house. To her horror, Rose and George were sitting on the porch. Using every ounce of her will power, she tried to look as though nothing had happened.
"Madison won't be coming to dinner," she announced. "Some friends have come into town, and he's going to eat with them."
"Will he bring them by later?" Rose asked.
"He didn't say," Fern said. And all of a sudden she couldn't hold back the tears any longer. With a sob, she wrenched open the door and ran to her room.
"What was that all about?" George asked.
"I have no idea," Rose answered, her brow creased, "but I would bet every cow you own at least one of Madison's friends is a very attractive young woman."
Fern didn't know how long she cried. She had so many things to cry for, her innocent enjoyment of life which had been lost that terrible night, the love her father never gave her, the years of loneliness when she tried to carve out an existence for herself against the laws of nature.
But most of all she cried for the hopes she had hung around Madison's neck. She knew she couldn't marry him, but she had counted on his love to give her the strength to refuse him, to support her through the lonely years ahead. Now she didn't have even that.
She managed to stop crying long enough to take her bath and change for dinner, but she couldn't eat. She declined Rose's invitation to linger at the table with her and George, but her room soon became an unbearable prison. Sitting on the porch wasn't much better. She tried to concentrate on the farm and what she wanted to do with it, but she couldn't keep her mind on pigs and chickens when every thought in her head had Madison at its core.
She could talk about her pride all she wanted. She could say she was hurt, that she would never believe him again, but when she was through saying all those things, she realized only one thing remained. Only one thing was important. She loved Madison. She couldn't say she didn't care about all the rest. She did, but loving Madison was all that really mattered.
No, the only thing that really mattered was that Madison be happy. And if she couldn't love him as he ought to be loved, as any man needed to be loved, then she ought to make sure she didn't do anything to stand in the way of his being happy with someone else.
Samantha Bruce loved Madison. Fern had seen that at a glance. Probably the only person who didn't know it was Madison himself. But he would soon figure it out, probably as soon as he returned to Boston. She was exactly the kind of wife he ought to have -- beautiful, cultured, rich, and totally in love with him. She wouldn't mind his dictatorial habits. She wouldn't remind him of the times he had been wrong. She wouldn't argue with him, and she would see that everything in his household went exactly the way he wanted.
More important, she would love him just as much as Fern loved him. Most important, she would love him the way Fern wanted to love him but couldn't, with her mind and her body.
It wasn't the same as having him herself. Nothing would ever be as wonderful as that, but she knew his heart would be in good hands. She had only met Samantha for a few minutes, but that was enough to see the sweetness in her character, the genuine warmth in her heart. He would be getting a better wife than she could ever be. Even though it hurt more than anything in her whole life, she would be doing him a favor.
But no sooner had she made that resolution than she looked up to see Madison coming down the street.
Chapter Nineteen
> Fern wanted to run inside and lock herself in her room, but she made herself sit still. She had to see Madison. She had to tell him she didn't love him. Even before he climbed the steps, she asked, "Why didn't you bring your friends?" She wanted to control the conversation. She sat in a chair a little way from the others. She didn't want him to get too close. She wasn't sure she could stick to her resolution if he did.
"They were tired."
"Rose and George want to meet them." She pointed to the light coming from inside the house. "They're still up."
"There'll be plenty of time later. Freddy came on business. He'll be here for several days."
He came toward her, and she felt the panic sweep over her. "Sit down," she said, pointing to the other chair. Madison remained on his feet. "Why did his sister come?"
"To keep him company. Their parents died last year, and they don't have any family but each other."
"They have you."
"I'm just a friend."
"You're more than just a friend."
"Maybe, but that isn't what I came to talk about. I came to apologize for losing my temper. I shouldn't have said those things. You know I didn't mean them."
"Neither did I," Fern said, struggling to control her voice. "Don't," she said, when Madison tried to take her hand. "Please sit down. I can't think with you towering over me."
"Then stand up."
"I can't think when you're close either."
"I love you, Fern. What's there to think about? We had a foolish argument, but it's over now."
"That's not true."
"You just said you didn't mean what you said."
"Sit down, Madison. This is very hard for me to say, and I can't do it with you crowding me."
"What's hard to say?"
"I'll tell you if you'll sit down."
Madison looked mulish, but he finally sat.
"I want to apologize again," Fern began. "Not for this evening, but for this morning, for not telling you the truth sooner."
Madison stiffened alarmingly. She opened her mouth to say the words, but her throat closed up. Her tongue refused to utter the words what would destroy her chance at the kind of love she had seen between Rose and George, the kind of love she felt for Madison.
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