by Iris Kelly
“Mr. Cooper, I want you to know how much I appreciate your thoughtful offer to accompany me to the orphan train. But I have thought a great deal about it, and I think it would be for the best if I went alone.”
“But, why?”
“Because it will confuse the children. They will see a man there. A man who’s kind to them, and who drives us all home. And in the way that children have of looking at things, they will assume that you are to be their father. And there will be such disappointment for them, even an irrational feeling that you’ve abandoned them. Of course, this will only be a problem for the older child—the baby will be safely oblivious. But that will be bad enough. You do see, don’t you? The confusion that could result if you were present?”
“I only wanted to . . .”
“You have been a tremendous help, beyond what words can express. But it’s important to appreciate what we have and pointless to dwell on what we don’t have; that is to say, I don’t want the child, the boy, dwelling on what he doesn’t have. He’ll have a mother, a home, and a baby sister. And a good future. I’ll see to it.”
Giles nodded, not too happy about her decision.
“Good. But first we must think about your child, before I tend to mine. Wedding on Saturday.”
“Yeah. She’s almost gone.”
“You’ll likely be invited to every Sunday dinner, so not altogether gone.”
“Can I expect any dinner invites at the Maxwell Ranch?”
“You would not be impressed with my repertoire, Mr. Cooper. Neither will the child, for that matter. No, it is you have hired the cook, and it is you who must entertain.”
“Any day of the week. You and yours will always be welcome in my home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper. See you on Saturday.”
Giles left, subdued and troubled. Fanny could guess at what had caused his change of mood.
“’Course I’ve been thinkin’ about ma quite a bit lately, what with the wedding comin’ up. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop missing her. I remember how awful it was when we lost her. I knew I was never gonna smile again, never gonna laugh again, never gonna be happy again. But then, when I did get back to smilin’ and laughin’ and bein’ happy, I felt bad, like bein’ unhappy was the only way I had to show her how I much I missed her.”
“Fanny, it would break her heart to hear that. You can be happy, you should be happy, and that doesn’t mean you don’t remember her. It’s exactly what she would have wanted.”
Fanny smiled. “That’s exactly right, Pa. So I’m sayin’ you can be happy. You should be happy; that doesn’t mean you don’t remember her. It’s exactly what she would have wanted.”
Giles glowered. His job was to dispense advice, not to take it from his meddling offspring.
“She would have liked Mrs. Maxwell. A lot,” Fanny added.
Giles liked Mrs. Maxwell. A lot. He had repeatedly tried to push that truth away, and it kept flooding back, relentless and undeniable. Now it felt as if it was written all over him. He couldn’t even waste breath on denials. Fanny allowed him to stew silently in thought. He dropped her off at the dressmaker and said he’d pick her up in half an hour. Fanny knew where he was going—to talk to someone with a lot more influence over him than she had.
*****
Giles stood in front of Emily’s gravestone, for perhaps the hundredth time in these past four years. He was no longer drowning in the depths of the grief that had consumed him that first year. As Fanny had said, the smiles and the laughter slowly drift back into one’s life—but what guilt accompanied them.
It was probably the same for almost all widows and widowers. That conviction that a return to normalcy felt like a betrayal. If you had lost your loved one when you were still young, then it was both proper and expected that you should marry again. But losing Emily as he had, when they were both approaching their middle years and had already had the family that everyone is entitled to, pointed to a remaining life of memory, and appreciation, and resignation. How many times, by her grave, had he promised to keep her memory alive?
“Our little Fanny’s getting married, Em. To a pretty nice fella. And the thing is, she thinks I ought to be getting married too. Now what would you think of that?”
He waited for an answer, not terribly hopeful. Gratefully, he noticed that the weeds around her grave had been trimmed away; the whole plot looked recently tended. It was not his doing. Emily had had so many friends in town that there were a number of people who could have been responsible for the good deed. He had even once caught that crotchety Miss Mabel over here once, a bunch of weeds in hand. He supposed that was one benefit of having Emily buried right in town, which she had insisted on, and not at the ranch as he had wanted.
His mind drifted to those final sick days and her final wishes. How determined she had been not to have her grave in plain view of him and the children every day of their lives at the ranch. She thought it would renew the sorrow daily and prevent them all from having those loud, happy times again. At the time, he had felt with complete certainty the futility of that hope. But she was certain otherwise, and her burial wishes were honored.
But what about her other wishes? She wanted the shadow of her death far away from their home. And she wanted them, all of them, to find their way back to life and joy after she was gone. How had he managed to forget her final words to him? Because at the time, they seemed impossible and disloyal. Now they came back to him, with unmistakable clarity. Was this his answer?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fanny’s wedding very much had the feel of a reunion, in a number of ways. Everyone who had been at the showdown with Lydia’s former employees and the subsequent celebration were present. Even the Sheriff, because no wedding could be had without Miss Mabel, which necessitated Ajax’s presence, which naturally required an invitation extension to his new boss, who was certainly welcome after all he had just done for them. It was good to have friends in the law. For his part, the Sheriff was glad to extend his acquaintance with the Cooper Brigade, as he now thought of them. Who knows when he might require their aid again?
But the heart of the reunion was the presence of two of Fanny’s sisters, Marjorie and Bridget, and one brother, Garrett. Fanny was excited to have them there, but nothing could match the quiet joy of Giles Cooper soaking in the pleasure of so many of his children around him. Lydia watched him from a distance and had to hold back the tears—she was so happy for him. No man could love his children more.
She tried to compose herself as Giles came over and led her back to introduce her to his children. She couldn’t have them see that someone who was only a friend and neighbor was so overcome with emotion.
“Mrs. Maxwell, we’ve heard so much about you,” Garrett said warmly.
“Have you?” Lydia asked. “That is most surprising.”
“Fanny keeps us posted on everything that’s happening back on the ranch. She’s our local correspondent,” Garrett said.
How much Fanny had shared with them could only be guessed. All three of the adult children treated Lydia with such great curiosity and warmth that she had to assume the worst: that they had been fully apprised of all circumstances of her acquaintance with the Cooper family.
“And you are the doctor, I hear,” Lydia said, doing her best to divert attention away from herself. “You’ve done quite a bit of traveling, I hear.”
“He just spent two years in New York,” Bridget offered proudly.
“There were gaps in my knowledge, particularly surgeries, so I went East for more training and almost stayed there. It’s an exhilarating place. And there were a few job offers,” Garrett said.
“We’re glad he came back, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why,” Marjorie teased.
“Clearly the Coopers belong out West,” Giles said.
“Something like that. The main thing is that there are plenty of doctors in New York—in all the big cities, for that matter. And a lot of frontier towns are hurtin
g for medical attention. So, I’ve been traveling around here and there. Seeing the whole continent, helping out where I can, and keeping an eye out for a place where I can do some good and settle down.”
“Don’t know what’s wrong with Cheyenne,” Giles grumbled.
“Already eight doctors here. And a few of them are even well-trained,” Garrett said.
“Well, how wonderful for your family that you were able to make it for the wedding. And having the girls as well. Fanny couldn’t be happier,” Lydia said.
Soon after, it was time to take their seats and watch as Giles accompanied his daughter down the church aisle. Lydia sat with Lewis, Virginia (and a mercifully sleepy Felicity), Miss Mabel, Ajax, and the Sheriff. There were sniffles all around the church, but no one wept more tears than Lydia.
She tried to tell herself that it was all due to happiness for her young friend and the well-deserved, love-filled life ahead of her. But she couldn’t lie to herself—the tears were also the painful longing for a life of being cherished. She sternly reminded herself that was soon to have two children under her roof who would fill her heart with such deep satisfaction that all other unfulfilled desires would fade into memory.
Giles took his seat next to his children and listened, almost with eyes closed, to the wedding vows. Could he, in truth, say these words to another woman, a second wife? Words of full commitment and absolute devotion: With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. . . In sickness and in health. Forsaking all others. For as long as we both shall live. Yes, he could. Without question.
The following dinner party and dancing were held in a large assembly room at the edge of town. It resembled an enormous barn and was used for a variety of different gatherings. Today, it was festively filled with satin and grosgrain ribbons and flower bouquets, a large dancing floor, a dance quartet, and two fiddlers. The happy couple began the first dance, and after two or three minutes, they were joined by many others.
Lydia knew that she could count on male friends for a dance here and there: Lewis, Avery, perhaps even young Ajax. As for Giles, what with being the father of the bride, and with so much family present, she didn’t expect to see much more of him. But he was quickly at her side, not long after the music had started.
“May I have the honor of this dance, Mrs. Maxwell?” Giles asked, offering his hand.
Lydia found herself in his arms on the dance floor, with no recollection of making the walk to get there. It was no country square dance, but a slow, intimate waltz, best suited for married couples and established courtships. Giles had every intention of maintaining a gentlemanly decorum, but there were moments when he could not help but pull Lydia close, leaving them both quite breathless and flustered. From a distance, the Cooper clan looked on with feigned disinterest, but they could hardly contain their excitement. It was the first time that Giles Cooper had danced in over five years.
*****
The Cooper family enjoyed several happy days together at the family ranch before they were obligated to return to their homes. Ned and Fanny left for their wedding journey; Garrett’s exciting stories had filled them with a desire to see New York City. And as Ned ran his own carpentry business, they could arrange to spend a good amount of time away.
Lydia had been a frequently invited guest during their visit, entertaining them with her piano skills and charming them with her appreciation for the ranch life. She was sad to see them go, and when Giles asked her to come over after the mass exodus, she knew that he was probably in need of cheering up.
Oddly enough, he didn’t seem lonely or depressed, but filled with nervous energy.
“I have a little present for you, Mrs. Maxwell,” he said. “It’s over there on the piano.”
Lydia was quite surprised; what had she done to merit a gift? She sat at the piano and saw that a great deal of new sheet music had been purchased: dances, and jigs, and popular music.
“It’s not like your beautiful concert music, but it’s stuff young’uns will like.”
“That’s so thoughtful, Mr. Cooper. You’ve given my children their first gift before they have even arrived. I have to warn you, though; we may become a nuisance in your home.”
“Your home, Mrs. Maxwell. I want this to be your home. You and the children. What a stubborn fool I’ve been. I’m the last one to see the plain truth before me. Fanny always wanted us to be married. Willie’s family, the Carlyles, they always knew we should be married. My own men think I’m a darn fool for not gettin’ on my knees and beggin’ you to marry me. I probably don’t have to tell you what kind of idiot Miss Mabel thinks I am. And all the rest of my children who’ve met you . . . I hope you know how much they would welcome you into the family.”
Lydia’s expression was impossible to read. Could he have been wrong about her feelings for him?
“I’m askin’ you to marry me, Mrs. Maxwell. Lydia, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Lydia drew a deep breath. She had never been called on to do anything so difficult. “Mr. Cooper. This is a very trying time in your life. You will be alone in this house, alone for the first time in your adult life. And in contrast to the full house that was here just two days ago, it must seem a bleak prospect. But you must not allow yourself to make rash decisions. That is a poor reason for marriage. I am not a medication for loneliness, nor am I a consolation prize.”
“No. No. It ain’t that. I should have come to my senses a long time ago.”
“I do question the timing of your decision. I have to. You have had ample time to express your feelings, if they truly came from your heart. But the advice and desires of your family and friends have greatly influenced you. I don’t wish to have anyone’s feelings for me decided on by committee. As highly as I regard each one of them, your regard should have been something entirely separate. Something entirely owing to . . .”
Lydia backed away toward the door. “I will not let this mar our friendship, and I beg you not to either. With time to reflect, I think you will return to the opinion you have held all along—that we are the best of friends and neighbors. And that is enough.”
She bolted out quickly, before he could confuse her with more arguments. Giles was left stunned and furious with himself. He had never botched anything so badly in his life. He was a man of great feeling, but not of great expression. How had he failed to let Lydia know how painfully in love with her he was? Everything he said had convinced her otherwise.
*****
The next few days were torturous for Lydia. She threw herself into the work of the ranch and preparing bedrooms for the children. All necessary, but especially useful to crowd all thoughts of Giles Cooper from her mind. She knew she had done the right thing. She had witnessed too much exquisite love and enviable affection between Virginia and Lewis, Fanny and Ned, Willie and Rachel. If she couldn’t inspire that, then so be it. She would rather do without.
She flinched at the sound of a wagon pulling up at the gate. It was too soon to face Mr. Cooper again. She was quite surprised and much relieved to see that it was Avery.
“What a pleasant surprise, Mr. Martin.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting your busy day, Mrs. Maxwell. But I have some information to relay that’s rather important.”
Lydia was thoroughly intrigued and invited him into her sitting room.
“I’ve just come from Giles Cooper’s place. He hired me to oversee some revisions he is making to his will and final bequests.”
“Oh . . . I suppose that is a necessary arrangement for all of us to make. I should see to my own as well. Certainly after the adoptions.”
“I’ll be very happy to assist when you are ready. As for Mr. Cooper, I felt it important to talk to you. And just as important, for you to talk to him.”
“About what?”
“He is leaving you his ranch, Mrs. Maxwell. Lock, stock, and barrel. It’s my understanding that he has not informed his children yet of this significant change of terms,
feeling that they are all well settled and would have no objection. Would you like a glass of water, Mrs. Maxwell? You are looking a bit faint.”
“You cannot be serious, Mr. Martin.”
“Obviously Mr. Cooper may do as he wishes with his own property. And this inheritance may be decades away; I have never seen a man in better health. But . . . it would be advisable if you could persuade him to notify his children, so that there is a clear understanding by all potential claimants in the event that the will is exercised in your favor. I met a number of them at the wedding. They’re very reasonable people, I’m sure. Mrs. Maxwell? Mrs. Maxwell!”
Lydia was already out the door and running for her horse. Avery rolled his eyes, ever thankful that his own life had never been turned upside down by the complications of love.
*****
“Mr. Cooper. What on earth can you be thinking?” Lydia demanded breathlessly, fresh off her horse.
“Sit down, Mrs. Maxwell. Let me get you somethin’ to drink.”
“No, tell me. How could you be leaving me your ranch? Why would you do such a thing?”
Giles scowled. “That lawyer of mine has got a big mouth.”
“What about your children? They deserve whatever you have to pass on.”
“Yeah? How you suppose I’m gonna split this ranch eight different ways? Or do you think I should be happy to know it’s gonna be sold after I’m gone and the proceeds will be split eight different ways, and who knows what will happen to my ranch? Maybe I shouldn’t even care, but I do. I want this ranch to survive, and I want it to be in the right hands.”
Giles came over and sat beside her.
“The girls all have good husbands. The boys all have good professions. And not a one of them feels about ranchin’ the way you do. The way I do. You’re the only person I know who will take care of it and love it. It would give me such peace of mind to know that my ranch is gonna be in your hands.”
Lydia’s last encounter with a will was that of a vindictive husband trying to take away her lawful rights of inheritance. Now, here was a man, who wanted to leave her the entirety of his life’s work, with no formal connection to her whatsoever.
