by Lisa Prysock
“How many ranch hands are there?” Hazel inquired, delicately buttering one of the rolls, her beautiful green eyes sparkling in the light from the small oil lamp on the table and the chandelier.
He elaborated by telling her about Henry, Patrick, and Edward. Then he mentioned Frankie, Henry and Fern’s grandson, which led him to explain that Fern was the ranch cook and housekeeper. He’d neglected to mention Miss Flora, but he figured she’d probably met Miss Flora in England.
Soon the waiter brought their main entrée to the table, and by that time, she had questions about Mia and Joshua. Were they happy? How old was Ambrosia, leading her to ask what had become of Joshua’s first wife, Ambrosia’s mother? Had Mr. Stanton inherited the ranch? When had Joshua and Mia married? Had he attended the wedding? How many guests attended? Was it a church wedding? What did the ranch residence look like? Was it comfortable? How many bedrooms did it have? Were there any modern conveniences? How were Uncle Charles and Cousin Alfred faring? Were there many books at Silver Aspen? What kind of food did Fern like to cook?
He finally thought to ask her about her life in England when the waiter appeared with cups of coffee and saucers of apple cake and cream for dessert. She mentioned a little about growing up in London and life in the countryside of Essex when her father wasn’t required at the House of Lords. He gathered she preferred to be near the shops and bookstores in Oxford and enjoyed riding her horse through Hyde Park. He knew little of Westminster, Oxford, Hyde Park, London, or Essex, but he found himself enjoying hearing her British accent whenever she spoke.
When they’d finished the meal, he escorted her to the staircase where his attention became diverted by a family coming inside to escape the bitter cold winds and gales of snow. He’d caught sight of the snow still coming down when the front doors had opened. Glad they’d made the decision to remain in Belle, he and Hazel paused when he stopped short of climbing the staircase, agreeing to meet for breakfast at nine o’clock in the drawing room.
“Aren’t you coming upstairs to turn in?” she inquired as she lifted her brown silk skirts, revealing layers of white ruffled petticoats, black stockings adorning her pretty ankles, and a pair of low-heeled, brown leather shoes.
Wade averted his eyes from her shapely ankles and shook his head, glancing over at the family of seven as they huddled around the fireplace, several of the children attempting to dry out their mittens. “No, I’m going to check on the team in the livery first, maybe talk to some of the locals to see if there’s any news that might be helpful. You go ahead and rest. I’m sure you’re tired from the journey. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Oh,” she replied, her green eyes looking around at the state of affairs in the drawing room with a number of sleepy locals trying to hold up in Belle without a room to be found. She looked as though she was about to say something else, but then snapped her mouth shut, her rose red lips smoothing firmly closed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at breakfast. Do be careful walking to the livery.”
It was the first thing he’d heard her say that revealed a truly caring nature underneath her spirited personality. He nodded. “I will. The concierge tied a rope from the hotel double front doors to the livery barn doors so no one will get lost coming to or fro.”
“Ah, a very good idea. That snow seems awfully blinding. I can’t imagine it at night. It’s looking very dark out there, on top of blustery. Good night then, and be safe.” Hesitating, after one more glance about the drawing room at the displaced lot of families, she nodded and headed up the staircase.
When she reached the top, he turned to observe the family at the fireplace again. Knowing the boarding house and both hotels were full, his brow furrowed, wondering where they might be able to take refuge.
The new hotel in Belle where he currently stood had become lenient on guests lingering in the drawing room. He’d heard it was owned by a mysterious wealthy patron. Thankfully, the management was kind to the guests who couldn’t secure rooms. They’d even permitted a waitress to offer free coffee and tea to everyone. Several folks looked as though they’d be spending the night sleeping on an upholstered chair or sharing the small, silk sofas about the room, much to the chagrin of the concierge. What else could they do? They couldn’t turn people out into that storm. One child had already curled up on the floor near the fireplace and fallen asleep near his mother, seated in an arm chair, holding an infant. Thankfully, they were quiet children, and the hotel had become compassionate about the fact they, and others like them, had nowhere else to go.
However, a family of seven might prefer sleeping in a wagon bed in the livery if they had a wagon. Wade, new to Belle, recognized that Paps Johnson, the owner of the livery, was a reasonable man. He’d likely permit the family to sleep in the livery if they preferred it. The parents of the large family looked uncomfortable to be in the hotel drawing room with so many children. Maybe they were out of ready cash. Lots of folks travelled to town and spent all or most of their cash at the General Store or the café.
Wade wondered if they had enough to purchase dinner. How they’d managed to survive this far into the evening in Belle was another question running through his mind. With all of those mouths to feed...
When the father stepped away from the rest of his family huddling near the fireplace, Wade sidled up to him. “Good evening. Nice family you have there.” Wade nodded in the direction of his wife and five children.
“Thank you,” the man replied, unbuttoning his worn overcoat.
“Any news about this blizzard?” Wade asked, hoping it might be a good way to begin a friendly conversation.
“Only that it seems to be moving east. Everyone is wondering how long it will last. Come up out of nowhere real sudden like. We set out for town this morning. Then we heard the school bell ring three times, but we were already nearly in town. We made the decision to purchase the supplies we needed and hold up here. It was too risky to consider the drive home.”
Wade agreed. “Same here. Came in this morning to meet someone on the stage for the boss, but way too risky to make it back to the ranch. Wade Jefferson, here.” He shook hands with the fellow who smiled and nodded vigorously. “Those winds!”
“Yes, they’re some of the worst I remember hearing. Chad Smythe. Pleased to meet ya. And all the rooms are full at the boarding house, the other hotel, and this one. Are you staying the night here?”
He shook his head no. “If I was, I’d gladly relinquish my room to your family. I talked to Paps Johnson at the livery. Parked my wagon and team inside. I’ve got a stack o’ quilts this high to keep me warm, and the livery is a good solid structure. No wind or snow getting in there.”
“We parked there too and thought about sleeping in our wagon. Not enough blankets though on this trip. We’ve got three lap blankets, but there’s so many of us.” Mr. Smythe looked a little downcast.
“I’d be more than happy to share a few of mine. I don’t need them back until nine in the morning,” Wade offered. He pulled his wallet out and fished out a few greenbacks from his own earnings. Then he tucked it in Mr. Smythe’s hand discreetly. “I’d like to buy the family dinner tonight, and breakfast in the morning.”
“Oh, you’re very kind, very kind...an answer to prayer. And with all these young ‘uns, I won’t turn you down. I’ll tell the Mrs. about the quilts. If we turn up in the livery in a short while, the kids might be happy to share. I’ll let my wife make the decision. That keeps the peace. If the Mrs. is happy, everyone is happy.”
“Sounds like good advice for the future.” Wade’s eyes twinkled as he smiled.
The man’s countenance appeared visibly relieved as they shook hands again. “Thank you for your generosity.”
“You’re welcome.” Wade strode toward the front doors and out into the snow. The wind howled in the distance and he held onto the rope all the way to the livery, praying the storm would soon cease.
Chapter 6
* * *
The Lord is a stronghold f
or the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you. Psalm 9:9-10, ESV
January 4th, 1882
“They’re here! They’re here!” Ambrosia called from the front sitting room windows as they heard the wagon rumble to a stop near the front porch. It was late morning and every fireplace had been tended. The morning chores were complete, and the wranglers had returned to the main house to warm by the fires. The storm had finally passed and all were anxious to see the travelers arrive safe and sound.
Mia stood up from the dining room table where she’d been working on the menu for next week, breathing a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes, whispering a prayer of thanks to the Lord above. Thank goodness Wade had kept her cousin safe. She reached for her shawl and hurried to the front door.
Wade allowed Patrick and Frankie to lead the team toward the barns after he’d helped Hazel down from the front seat. She was light as a feather, even with the added difficulty of extracting her from the blankets he’d tucked around her for the journey, and her heavy winter cape with the fancy fur trim. He guessed British folk were just that way.
After a great deal of embracing and joyous laughter to see each other, they were all soon settled around the table in the dining room. Mia Stanton poured her cousin a cup of steaming hot tea while Fern offered strong coffee. The creamer pitcher and sugar bowl were passed around and before long, Wade found himself answering their questions about the storm and how things went in Belle. He was pleased to report there were no deaths to anyone’s knowledge, and everyone at Silver Aspen complimented him for making the wise decision to remain in town at the hotel.
Lady Mia introduced their guest to each person. Then she whisked her away on a tour of the large cabin. Meanwhile, some of the wranglers hoisted the trunks to the smaller one located behind the kitchen where it’d been decided she would stay with Ambrosia.
Joshua patted Wade on the back as he stood up to hold his hands out toward the fire in the dining room stone fireplace. “Thank you for making such a wise decision to stay in Belle overnight and not risking your lives. Mia would never have forgiven herself if anything happened to her cousin.”
Wade nodded as he rubbed his hands together briskly and then stretched them out closer to the flames leaping in a fiery dance. He was both glad and relieved he’d earned Mr. Stanton’s approval. It’d been easier said than done. If only Joshua knew the determined streak Hazel possessed. He’d seen a tantrum about to unfold from Hazel behind her beautiful emerald eyes. She’d flashed him a look he’d not forget anytime soon. Something about her caused him to stand afar off and choose every word with care. If there was one thing he knew, it was time would eventually tell.
“Do you think you will be comfortable here in our primitive, but decidedly cozy cabin with Ambrosia as your hostess?” Mia asked, observing Hazel closely for her reply.
Hazel looked around the small cabin located across the rear terrace from the main cabin. The fireplace was situated between the beds. A writing desk, table, and two rocking chairs drew her attention. She liked the wardrobe and bureau with the oval mirror. Having a private kitchen from that of the main house offered additional merits of its own. “I think so. I like the idea that Ambrosia and I may escape to our own pleasant little retreat, Cousin. Yes, I think I shall be quite content here.”
“Good, I was hoping you might find this preferable. Ambrosia loves it out here. You know I lived here with her during my engagement to Joshua. It was a very happy time for me.” Mia settled onto the edge of the bed.
“I see they’ve brought my trunks in already. I’m glad to hear you enjoyed being here. I don’t wish to be an inconvenience to anyone. I’m sure you’ve selected the very best place for me during my stay.” Hazel sighed, still angry her father had sent her away.
“Do you know how long your father wishes for you to remain in America?” Mia asked gingerly as Ambrosia jumped onto the opposite bed.
“I’ve no idea. Probably forever. I don’t think he wishes to see me ever again.” Hazel’s remark caused Mia and Ambrosia to exchange sympathetic looks, but she didn’t care what they thought about it at this point.
“Surely it isn’t that bad,” Mia replied. “From what I understand, it was merely a few incidents...something about castor oil, undergarments, and a rumor. I’m sure he and your new stepmother will soon forget the details and welcome you home. Perhaps a little time and space will heal any wounds suffered by each of you.”
Hazel shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. You don’t know Ms. Riggs, I mean the new Countess, as I do. Father has made a dreadful mistake and I shall never speak to him again.”
“Well, in any case, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like.” Mia patted her hand comfortingly.
“Thank you, but I’m certain nothing can heal this.” Hazel sighed. Then she chuckled. “I suppose the castor oil was taking things a bit too far.”
“It will soon be all forgotten,” her cousin assured as she slid off the pretty quilt. “And now I must go and see if Fern and Miss Flora need my help in the kitchen with the luncheon preparations. Would you like to rest, or will you be joining us for the midday meal?”
“I’d prefer to rest,” Hazel replied. She realized after the tour of the main cabin that she was overcome with weariness from the journey and feeling a reverie of mixed emotions, causing her to sound demanding.
“All right then. I’ll see to it that we bring you a tray. Ambrosia, will you remain here with Hazel in case she needs anything?” Mia stepped closer toward the front door of the little cabin. “Oh, hello Wade. I didn’t see you there.”
“We found Lady Hazel’s muff in the dining room,” he explained, causing Hazel to wonder how much of their conversation he’d heard. The last thing she wanted was some cowboy knowing anything personal about her life.
“Thank you, Wade. That was very kind of you to deliver it.” Mia turned toward her cousin. “Dinner will be at seven o’clock this evening since the winter chores have been done sooner than usual if you’d care to join us then. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your travels, so I’ll leave it up to you. Breakfast is usually served at seven, but I do frequently opt for a later meal of something light.”
Hazel’s reply as she looked away came out in a voice barely above a whisper. “Perhaps I will join you, if I feel up to it.” She lay back on her pillow, anxious for them to leave her alone. She wasn’t accustomed to such primitive and rustic surroundings coming from her father’s mansion in London and their modern country house in Essex.
Then Mia stopped at the door with Wade and turned back toward Hazel. “Whatever became of your maid and companion? Your father said a Miss Workman would be accompanying you on the journey?”
“Miss Mabel Workman ran off with a sailor.” Hazel yawned. Not even the maid she’d had for more than five years cared enough to remain. At this point, it mattered little to her, though she figured her father would eventually hear of the matter and be disconcerted, if he truly still cared.
Ambrosia coughed, clearly trying to stifle a giggle. “A sailor...she ran off with a sailor?”
“I see,” Lady Stanton said, appearing to disregard Ambrosia’s inquisitive nature for the moment as she absorbed the information. “You finished the rest of the journey all the way from New York without Miss Workman?” Her eyes appeared wide as saucers.
Hazel nodded, noticing Wade shrug and shake his head when her cousin glanced at him. “I did finish the journey alone, and ‘twas much more peaceful than having that besotted, vulgar sailor follow us around everywhere.”
Mia looked pointedly at Ambrosia. “Not one word, Miss Ambrosia. This is not to be repeated.”
“Yes ma’am,” Ambrosia responded, appearing to do her best to hide the questions in her blue eyes as Mia followed Wade out of the cabin.
Chapter 7
* * *
All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, a
nd is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. 2 Timothy 3: 16-17
Hazel slept until nearly two hours before dinner. She had time for a hot bath in the second floor copper bathing tub, thankful that Mia sent Miss Flora with buckets of hot water until the tub was completely full. She enjoyed the luxurious bath and found her spirits most improved afterwards.
Joining the Silver Aspen ranch family at the table proved to be an enjoyable experience. Fern served a delicious meal of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, peas in butter sauce, and stewed cinnamon apples. The most interesting thing to Hazel was watching the wranglers polish and load their rifles in preparation for warding off coyotes from the cattle herd, and the fact they’d used sharp tools that afternoon at the creek to break the ice so the cattle could drink from one of their customary water sources.
Soon the weekend came, and with it, the plan to attend Sunday services. Miss Ambrosia had plans to go ice skating at a pond after Sunday dinner with Frankie, but Hazel didn’t feel like skating or going to church. In fact, so far, she didn’t like much about Wyoming and felt bored out of her mind.
“Tomorrow will be most important,” Mia explained while stitching her wedding sampler in the sitting room near the fire with Hazel, Miss Flora, Fern, Ambrosia, Joshua, Charles, Alfred, and Wade. “We have much to be thankful for in Belle since the Lord brought our town safely through the blizzard.”
“Yes, we certainly do, Lady Stanton,” Fern replied, nodding, a look of contentment on her plump face.
Those in the sitting room had finished their baths, the women using the powder room copper tub, and now they waited for the rest of the men to join them. The men of Silver Aspen took turns bathing in one of the barns near the loft bunkhouse area.
