Her Wyoming Man

by Cheryl St. John

  Turning, he studied the lustrous dark woodwork, the walnut, four-poster bed and the tall, hand-carved chifforobe. The entire house was filled with beautiful furniture, luxurious carpets and draperies. Deborah had been appreciative, but she’d never seemed at home. All the material things in the world couldn’t buy a person’s happiness.

  She’d loved him, he was certain, but she’d reserved her affections for the children. She’d been an outstanding mother and a loving caregiver, preferring to stay home and keep the children near. He’d encouraged her to make friends and join the ladies’ groups, but she’d attended rarely and then only to please him.

  The reminder of her discontent would serve to quell his lusty ideas about his new wife. He set the frame on top of the bureau and took a long hard look at Deborah’s deceptively serene face, reminded of the discontent that eroded every hope he’d ever had about their marriage.

  This new marriage was nothing like that, and he would keep it that way. Ella had chosen to come to Sweetwater on her own. She’d set her sights on a husband before she’d ever met him, so he hadn’t pulled her away from anywhere or anyone preferable. Still, coming here was a big adjustment, and taking a husband an even bigger one.

  Yes, Ella welcomed his kisses, but the two of them had yet to advance to the reality of intimate dealings between man and wife. She was still caught up in the romance of marriage. The last thing he wanted to rush was her disillusionment when she discovered the physical aspect. Memories of Deborah were all it took to assure him he was using wisdom with his choice to wait. In the end, time would be his friend.

  “I owe you an apology,” Nathan said to her the following morning. He’d been waiting in the hall when she’d exited her room in hopes of reaching the kitchen before the meal was prepared and everyone seated at the table.

  “Whatever for?” she asked.

  “Our marriage came up unexpectedly, and I didn’t plan for a honeymoon—or even time away from my job. I promise we’ll take a trip as soon as I can arrange something.”

  She’d read a few newspapers with wedding announcements and recognized now that newly wedded couples often took a holiday after the ceremony. “I know you weren’t prepared,” she answered. “I didn’t expect a trip.”

  “I understand if you’re disappointed, but we can plan something together this way.”

  “Nathan,” she said, resting her hand on the sleeve of his serge suit coat. “I assure you I wasn’t expecting a honeymoon trip. I don’t need a trip. I traveled quite a distance to get here. I’m not in a hurry to leave.”

  “But it would be a pleasant diversion if we plan a honeymoon together?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Anywhere you like,” he assured her.

  “All right. We’ll talk about it. I hoped to help Charlotte with breakfast this morning. Am I too late?”

  “No, but perhaps you won’t mind helping Grace instead. Mrs. Shippen won’t be here for another half hour. The boys are up and dressed, but Grace was more difficult to wake.”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately, but the thought terrified her. “I’ll go check on her.”

  Nathan thanked her and headed down the stairs.

  Ella approached the nursery, where she tapped on the partially open door. “Grace, are you awake?”

  Hesitantly, she entered. All three beds were empty and unmade. Puzzled, she saw no one, but then heard a sound that came from behind a privacy screen. Moving toward it, she walked around the side and stopped short.

  Grace, hair mussed, nightdress hiked, sat on a miniature wooden chair that housed a chamber pot. She gazed up at Ella with wide sleepy blue eyes.

  “Oh.” Ella took a step back. “I didn’t know where you were, but I see you’re awake.”

  Grace unconcernedly scratched her head and finished her business, then stood and padded back into the room, where she pointed to an armoire constructed of golden oak.

  Ella opened it to discover an array of dresses. “Do you want to select your dress for today?”

  Grace touched the hem of a blue garment, and Ella took it from its wooden hanger. “It’s lovely.” She opened narrow drawers on the side of the piece of furniture and located underclothing. “Let’s see if you have warm water.”

  Grace stood beside the low washstand as though waiting.

  Ella tested the water in the pitcher, finding it warm, then poured some into the bowl and handed Grace the dry washrag.

  Grace looked at it and handed it back.

  Ella soaked and wrung it and extended it again.

  Grace just looked at her.

  Finally comprehending that she was supposed to wash the little girl, she did so. Grace blinked as the cloth touched her face, but she studied Ella solemnly.

  “There.” Ella hung the cloth to dry and helped her change into her clothing, kneeling to work on her stockings and help her with her shoes. At last, she looked at Grace’s tangled hair and sighed. “Where’s your hairbrush?”

  Grace pointed to a bureau drawer.

  “All right then.” Ella located the items she needed and set about gently working knots from her hair and dressing it in two neat braids. She kept up a steady stream of one-sided dialogue as she worked, finally standing back to look at her handiwork.

  Grace was a lovely child, ivory-skinned and rosy-cheeked. She gave Ella a bashful smile that created dimples just like Christopher’s. “All finished. You did well at selecting your own clothing,”

  They descended the stairs together and Grace led the way to the dining room. “There’s my pretty girl,” Nathan said to his daughter.

  Ella cringed at the comment. He meant well, and it was true, Grace was a fair child, but emphasis on appearance made Ella uncomfortable. In Ella’s experience, praise for beauty only reduced a person to an object for another’s pleasure.

  Once they’d eaten breakfast, Nathan wished Ella a good day, kissed Grace and Robby and left to take Christopher to school and go to his office. Ella helped Charlotte with the dishes.

  “What is the normal routine for the remainder of the day?” she asked when Mrs. Shippen arrived.

  “The children occupy themselves with their toys while I make beds and gather the laundry,” she answered. “At noon I prepare them lunch, and then they nap in the afternoon.”

  “I’m not sure what’s expected of me,” Ella said with discomfort.

  “I was here when the first Mrs. Lantry was alive,” Mrs. Shippen said. “She occupied herself with the children most of the time. Otherwise she read and sewed. On rare occasions she joined the other wives for luncheons or tea.”

  Grace and Robby seemed surprised to see Ella enter the nursery. Robby set down his wooden block and ran over to her. “Read to Robby?”

  “I’d love to read to you. But let’s make your beds first.”

  He did his best to help her pull up and straighten sheets and blankets. He turned and grabbed a rag doll and struggled to climb on Grace’s bed, mussing it again, but proudly placed the doll on her pillow and climbed back down. “There!”

  Ella commended him and nonchalantly smoothed the spread where he’d mussed it. Once the beds were made, she let him select a book, sat on the nearby rocker and read aloud.

  Mrs. Shippen arrived, surprised to find the beds made. “You made your own bed, too,” she said. “Mr. Lantry makes his, as well, so my morning chores are getting lighter.”

  Her observation pointed out that the woman knew Nathan and Ella slept in separate rooms, but her tone didn’t indicate surprise or disapproval.

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” Ella offered.

  Robby and Grace continued to bring her books. Finally, she suggested they put on sweaters and go out of doors for a walk. The children were appreciative of her attention and the unusual change in their schedule. They must have grown bored playing in their room most of the day, and she was glad to broaden their activities.

  Robby’s antics made her laugh and Grace’s sile
nt acceptance touched her. She thought of all the places she could have ended up, even had she somehow married a rancher back in Kansas, and knew she couldn’t have found a better home or even a halfway respectable position that compared. The thoughts had her thinking about Celeste and the other girls and wondering how they fared this first week of their new lives.

  Ella wasn’t a dreamer. She knew better than to imagine situations that could never come to pass. But being here was real. By some amazing stroke of fate, she had landed in a place she didn’t deserve, married to an exceedingly gentle and decent man. Nathan was kind to the household help. He loved his children, and had been nothing less than a gentleman where Ella was concerned.

  She liked it here, and she liked this family. She would do whatever it took to stay and make herself invaluable.

  That afternoon while the children slept, she insisted on peeling potatoes, though Charlotte had to show her how, and then darted curious glances at her the entire while. Afterward Ella selected a book and got a blanket from a stack in her closet, and carried them down beside the stream.

  She spread the blanket and sat, listening to the remarkable sounds of the outdoors. After several minutes the birds resumed their songs and chirps. The breeze rustled through the leaves of the cottonwoods in a song more melodic than anything she had ever played on the piano. She closed her eyes and listened. The sun warmed her face, probably encouraging freckles at this very moment, but she didn’t care. She’d never had the privilege of being left to her own devices for a day.

  Her thoughts traveled to the previous day, to Nathan’s encouragement to remove her shoes and stockings, and their playful, somewhat disastrous foray into the water that had led to a kiss she would never forget.

  Ella had forgotten a lot of kisses. She had deliberately cast a great deal of her past out of her mind. But she wanted to cling to her memories with Nathan because they were the only pure and real experiences she’d known.

  That she enjoyed his kisses may have been the most shocking discovery of her lifetime. What she’d intended as a ploy for her security had transformed into something she’d never expected—or wanted. Enjoying his kisses wasn’t a comfort. It frightened her as few things could.

  She opened her eyes and studied the puffy white clouds changing shapes in the blue sky. For the first time she acknowledged being a part of a universe so big that she felt small and insignificant…but breathtakingly alive.

  The complete lack of restrictions was the most liberating feeling she’d ever known. She’d chosen a new destiny—to become a different person. Her previous life seemed a million miles away.

  Yes, she was going to do everything she could to be the person Nathan and his children needed. She was, after all, Ella Lantry. She desired nothing more than to be worthy of his respect and his good name. She wouldn’t let her husband down.

  By Thursday, Ella could no longer wait to know how Celeste was faring in her new home. Over breakfast she brought up the subject of a visit to Nathan. “I’d like to call on Celeste, if it still meets with your approval.”

  He cast her a curious look. “Apparently you were restricted at Miss Haversham’s, but you don’t need my permission to leave the house or call on your friends, Ella. You’re due for a day of socializing.”

  “I was invited to join the ladies’ choir rehearsal, but I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. I can do that next week, when I’m more settled.”

  “Of course,” he answered. “Whatever pleases you.”

  “I can take the children with me to visit Celeste,” she offered.

  She’d cared for them alone the previous day, while Mrs. Shippen enjoyed a day off.

  “Not unless you have a burning desire to keep two small children entertained and out of mischief instead of visiting with your friend,” he told her. “You’re due for a day to yourself. Just enjoy seeing your friend.”

  Uncertain of Celeste’s situation, she decided perhaps it was best she go alone the first time. The driver Nathan sent called for her midmorning. The fellow, whose name was Pete Driscoll, was a quiet sort, leading the horse along a well-traveled road.

  Ella enjoyed the scenery, asking Mr. Driscoll to stop once so she could pick a bouquet of delicate lavender flowers. He helped her back up to her seat without comment, and delivered her to the Adams ranch well before noon.

  Corrals and outbuildings littered the land, and a small one-story house sat near a stand of trees. To the west of the house, Celeste turned from a clothesline where she’d been hanging what looked like curtains. She spotted Ella climbing down and hurried to greet her. “Gab—” she began, and then caught herself. “Ella. What a wonderful surprise!”

  She wore a plain dress and a white apron. She’d braided her black hair and it hung down her back in a thick plait. Her simple attire and this humble scene were unfamiliar to Ella, but Celeste’s eyes sparkled and her face was alight with pleasure.

  “I wanted to see you,” Ella said and extended the bouquet of wildflowers before accepting the brief hug the young woman lavished upon her.

  “Mr. Lantry asked me to wait for ya,” the driver said. “I’ll water the horse and find ’im some grass.”

  “Thank you,” Ella replied.

  Celeste took her arm and led her toward the house. “Come in and I’ll make tea. I made a cake, and I want you to try it.”

  The kitchen was small, but adequate, with two long windows that opened onto the side yard, where a garden flourished. Celeste stood the flowers in a glass bottle she filled with water. “Paul said these are shooting stars,” she told Ella, pointing to the lavender blooms. “I don’t know what the pink or white ones are.”

  She poked around in the stove and added a few sticks to get the logs burning hot, then poured water from a pail into a kettle and set it on a burner. “Isn’t this just a stitch, me making tea and cakes? Oh, hang your hat up over there.”

  Ella hung her hat and shawl on a peg beside the door, then took a seat.

  Celeste uncovered a lopsided cake and cut a slice. “I make all the meals for Paul and me. He hasn’t complained yet.” She gave a half laugh. “He’s had reason, though, believe me. I didn’t know a sack of flour from a coffee bean until this week. But he’s so patient. And he explains things without getting upset. He hasn’t so much as lifted his voice, let alone a fist.”

  The news gave Ella a sense of relief. She tasted the cake and found it a little dry, but not terrible.

  “Your tea will wash it down,” Celeste told her, as though guessing her thoughts.

  “I peeled potatoes,” Ella told her.

  “I never knew potatoes grew like that, did you?” Celeste asked. “Have you seen a turnip yet?”

  Ella shook her head.

  “And eggs! Goodness, I have to wrestle them away from the chickens!” The kettle boiled and she poured water over tea in a chipped pot, and then sat near Ella at the table. “But it’s all worth it—the cooking and sweeping the floor every day and pulling weeds from the garden. He treats me like I’m—like I’m special.” Though they were alone, she lowered her voice near a whisper. “He’s gentle in the bed department—asks my permission, then questions if I like every little thing. He goes at it a couple of times a night, and Ella, he never had a woman before me, can you believe it? But he’s just so sweet about it, and he holds me afterward.”

  She paused in her rush to tell Ella everything and got tears in her eyes.

  Ella’s own eyes smarted, and she swallowed hard to compose her emotions.

  “I never knew there was a man like him,” Celeste said, her voice thick with tears. “All I ever knew were cowhands in a hurry to get back to their card games and drunks and cheating husbands and those that wanted something their wives wouldn’t do for them.”

  Ella nodded her understanding. She’d never known, either—never imagined there were kind and courteous men, men who loved their children, men who put a woman’s needs above their own.

  Celeste poured hot tea into tw
o cups and set one before Ella. “Is Mr. Lantry tender like that?”

  Ella spooned sugar into her cup and stirred. “He’s patient with his children, and has been nothing but polite and considerate.”

  “And he’s a gentleman in the bedroom, too?”

  Ella gave a hesitant shrug and let her gaze touch on everything on the table before lifting it to the other woman’s face.

  Celeste raised her eyebrows and her eyes widened. “You haven’t?”

  Chapter Nine

  “It’s puzzling, I know,” Ella said with a shake of her head. “He wants to have a courtship first.”

  “You’d better move past that right quick,” Celeste told her with obvious concern. “Paul told me our marriage was consummated and legal after that first time. I had to ask him to explain, because I had no idea, but it seems there’s still a chance to call the whole thing off if the husband and wife haven’t put the final seal on things.”

  Ella stared at her. “Surely he’s not holding out in case he changes his mind about me.”

  “Maybe he has his reasons.” Celeste sipped her tea.

  Ella picked up her cup. Nathan hadn’t given her any indication that their marriage might not work out. Granted she wasn’t familiar with household chores or cooking or…well, with anything for that matter; but she’d shown him she was willing to learn and do her part. “A piano is being delivered soon,” she said. “When it arrives, I’ll teach the children to read music and play.”

  “How are you getting on with the children?”

  “Quite well. His daughter doesn’t speak.” She went on to share about the little ones. Some time later Paul arrived, greeted Ella warmly, and Celeste prepared him sandwiches and poured him a glass of buttermilk.

  He ate his meal, then stood and thanked Celeste.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied with a smile Ella had never seen before. The couple exchanged a private look.