Her Wyoming Man

by Cheryl St. John

  Ella straightened from showing Robby a bowl of marbles and approached Nathan with an expectant expression. “What do you think?”

  “I—I hardly know what to think,” he replied truthfully, gathering his thoughts. “It’s so different.”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  She appeared so pleased with herself, and the attitude lit her lovely features and made her eyes twinkle. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes on, and her smile could banish the clouds from a stormy sky. “I’m very surprised.”

  He walked around the room, surveying each addition, and the obvious thought and expense that had gone into the furnishing and decorating. “You do have a flair,” he told her. He recognized the influence of their friends and neighbors. “I like it better than the Crandalls’.”

  “You do?” In a spontaneous gesture, she leaned into him and titled her face upward.

  He placed the backs of his fingers against her jaw and smiled down at her. “Yes, much better.”

  She stood on tiptoes and he bent to give her a brief kiss. Back on her heels, she glanced at the children. “Let’s wash for supper, little ones.”

  Grace took her hand, and Christopher followed her from the room. Robby raised both arms and chirped, “Up!”

  Nathan swept him up and kissed his cheek. “What do you suppose we’re having for supper, little man?”

  “Chicken.”

  Nathan laughed and gave him a squeeze. All meat was chicken to Robby.

  That evening after the children were tucked into bed, Nathan sat in his chair and observed Ella working on her folding screen project. “Where will that go?”

  “The sitting room,” she replied.

  As if one more thing would fit. He kept the thought to himself, as well as the fact that he owned a furniture store, and had checked today, learning nothing she’d purchased had come from there. He didn’t mind giving business to the other companies in town, though those owners probably thought it was odd that his wife had shopped in their stores. He’d never thought to tell her or mention it, so how could she have known? “I like all of the roses. And the cutouts of the ladies are colorful.”

  She wiped her fingers on a wet towel before applying another cutout to the collage. He much preferred their conversations and sitting beside her on the divan to her recent fascination with cutting and gluing, but all he really wanted was for her to be content, so he picked up his book and attempted to read.

  “Do you suppose we could take the children on an outing this weekend?” she asked.

  Glad for the diversion, he laid down the book. “What sort of outing?”

  “Well. I read there will be jugglers and acrobats performing near Smithville. That’s not far, is it?”

  “About a two-hour ride. You want to see jugglers?”

  “I’ve never seen a juggler, but I was thinking that the children would enjoy it.”

  “Did you read about this event in the newspaper?”

  “Yes.”

  He skimmed news like that while searching for items of political interest. He was always looking for ways to improve the city and to make the territory safer for his family and others. He most often thought about his children’s futures and educations, not ways to entertain them. But the light in her eyes and the lift in her voice suggested they needed to have fun, as well. He appreciated that she was the perfect foil to his blind ambition.

  “We’ll leave early Saturday then,” he said.

  Her smile touched him. Made him want to get up, cross the room and kiss her until she melted and they were both trembling as they had been the night of the thunderstorm.

  Nathan thought of that experience at least a hundred times a day and at the most inappropriate times. She was his wife, and she had never shown the least resistance or distaste regarding his advances. Her acceptance made his self-imposed restraint all the more difficult.

  He was certain that if he did go to her now, she wouldn’t resist. He imagined crossing the room and urging her from her seat and into his arms. He remembered the feel of her hair in his hands and against his skin…couldn’t forget her intoxicating scent or the feel of her warm and willing body.

  He’d set an impossible restriction when he’d chosen to court Ella for six months before making love to her. He hadn’t counted on wanting her so badly. He’d done the right things for the right reasons, he assured himself now. Just because waiting was difficult didn’t mean he’d made a poor decision.

  He was a man of character and discipline. He rigidly adhered to what was right and he learned from his mistakes. Doing what was right was more important than slaking his physical needs.

  Ella wiped her hands and glanced at the clock before standing and moving toward him. Spiraling need made him achingly uncomfortable, and at her approach desire for her quickened.

  She knelt in front of him and rested her hand on his knee. “I’m looking forward to Saturday. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly, but he leaned toward her and reached for her shoulders to urge her closer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She complied, rising to meet his lips. He intended to keep the kiss casual, but as soon as his lips touched her warm soft ones, he slanted his head and invited a deeper, more intimate contact, loving her sleek heated textures and the way she made a little sigh of pleasure deep in her throat.

  She wasn’t put off by his kiss, nor did she show any sign of pulling away or slowing him down. Kissing her was risky business because she seemed to like it as much as he did. One of them needed to come to his or her senses before he did exactly what he dreamed of doing and took her up to his bedroom.

  He drew away. He touched the wisp of hair at her cheek and gazed into her bright shining eyes, still so filled with wonder and appreciation. He never wanted to see that look change. He never wanted to disappoint her.

  He found his voice. “It’s late. We’d better get some rest.”

  Ella disguised her unladylike disappointment and tidied up her project and supplies. For the first time, self-doubt flickered through her thoughts. The unfinished sealing of their vows had become a worry. Was there something about her that made it easy for Nathan to delay consummating their marriage?

  Ella could hardly sleep Friday night. Nathan had thought it best they didn’t tell the children about the trip, lest they become overexcited. If her own anticipation was any indication, he’d been right.

  He’d given Mrs. Shippen Saturday off. Charlotte prepared breakfast and packed sandwiches and apples for their journey, then left.

  Nathan loaded their belongings into the buggy and they gathered the children. Robby was the most excited, pointing and calling out about cows and horses in pastures as they passed.

  “What’s a acrobat, Papa?” Christopher asked.

  “Men and women swing from a bar high above the ground and perform tricks.”

  “Have you ever heard the acrobat song?” Ella asked.

  Christopher answered that he had not.

  “He’d fly through the air with the greatest of ease,” she sang and Nathan joined her. “That daring young man on the flying trapeze.”

  They continued and, because she’d played the song several times and knew the words by heart, she supplied them. When the song ended, Robby and Grace clapped.

  Nathan looked over to catch sight of Ella laughing with them over her shoulder. His chest dipped with affection for this young woman and her appreciation for every small nuance of life. He’d been so preoccupied with work and his plans for an election that it had been too long since he’d taken time to enjoy small moments such as these.

  Deborah had never shown this much appreciation for anything he’d tried to do to cheer her up or make her content. When had he stopped trying and turned his focus to his career? He was ashamed for not planning enjoyable activities for his children.

  Reaching over, Nathan captured Ella’s hand in his large strong grasp. Never had she felt so safe or so burst
ing with simple happiness. She turned a deliberately shining smile toward him to show him her pleasure.

  “I’m grateful you suggested this,” he told her.

  “I’m glad to be here,” she replied.

  The look on his face showed his surprise at her words. During the ride Robby fell asleep, and Nathan woke him when they arrived in Smithville. The event had drawn vendors and spectators from the surrounding area. Makeshift booths lined the central dirt street, and colorful handbills had been tacked to every post and fence and doorway in sight. Nathan plucked off a paper and handed it to Christopher. “It’s a drawing of the acrobat.”

  Christopher stared with wide-eyed fascination. “Can I keep it?”

  “Of course you may,” his father replied.

  Grinning, the boy folded the paper clumsily and stuck it into his pocket.

  The first acrobatic performance didn’t start for another hour, so they strolled past booths that offered everything from candy and wooden toys to photography and souvenirs.

  They paused and Nathan studied a tent with a sign thrust into the dirt outside. He turned to her. “Shall we have a photograph taken?”

  Immediately she thought of the portrait of himself and his wife that sat atop his bureau. “If you wish.”

  He nodded and urged his family toward the tent. Inside, several handsome photographs were displayed in frames on easels in front of a long narrow table. Behind the display a piece of canvas divided the rest of the tent into privacy. A man in a gray suit and red tie came out from behind the temporary wall.

  “What a handsome family,” he remarked. “Would you like several photographs for family members? Perhaps one for each of the children so they will own heirlooms.”

  “Is that possible?” Nathan asked.

  “Indeed,” the photographer said. “I’m using glass negatives and the collodion wet plate, so I can develop clear and detailed portraits. I can make several from the same negative.”

  “One for us and one for each of the children, then,” Nathan decided.

  Ella touched his arm. “You should have a portrait taken alone for the campaign.”

  Nathan raised his eyebrows at her forethought. “Excellent idea.”

  Ella located the small ivory comb she kept in her bag and prepared the children’s hair. Nathan asked to borrow it, and then they posed, taking turns with one adult sitting on a curved parlor chair while the other stood with the children. When Nathan was seated, he held Robby on his lap and the other family members circled him.

  Once they’d finished, the photographer took Nathan’s money and told him what time to come back for the finished portraits.

  Back in the sunshine, the area was a noisy and colorful mishmash of tents and vendors. The aromas of beer, boiling sausages and cinnamon buns blended into sensory overload.

  A juggler in a red tuxedo costume tossed six or eight balls into the air and caught one at a time, immediately sending it back into the rotation. Robby watched, transfixed.

  A man on stilts walked past, catching the children’s attention. Passing a booth, the mouthwatering smells of caramel and popcorn waylaid them next. Nathan bought them each a popcorn ball, and one for Ella. She tasted it and her eyes widened. “This is so good. Can we make these at home?”

  He laughed. “I imagine so. My mother used to do it. Corn syrup and butter hold them together.”

  Eventually they took seats on wooden stands that lined a bare area where mattresses had been piled under a framework of poles and wires with single bar swings swaying high above the ground.

  Grace leaned against her father and pointed to her crossed legs. He lifted his gaze to Ella’s. “She has to use the necessary.”

  Ella handed Nathan her reticule and the last half of her popcorn ball. “I’ll take her.”

  By the time she and Grace returned, the benches were filled with spectators and a band had begun to play a lively number. Nathan got out his handkerchief and wiped sticky hands and faces.

  At the appointed time, a man in a tuxedo and top hat came out into the open area. Through a megaphone, he introduced the dangerous and death-defying duo of Hubert Stratton and Little Lou Beatty, the high-flying artists of the trapeze.

  The crowd applauded and shouted to welcome the man and woman dressed in what appeared like ornately embellished Shakespearean garb from the torso up. Below their waists they wore brief diaperlike pants and snug stockings.

  To loud cheers, the two immediately climbed rope ladders on opposite sides of the arena. Once at the top, they situated themselves on the bar swings and began pendulous motions in opposition to each other.

  The performers swung high above the ground, and the very real danger of falling soon quieted the crowd. Next the man and woman stood on their swaying bars and waved to the people. Christopher and Robby waved and squealed in return. Grace widened her eyes, and her mouth formed an O as the acrobats wrapped their legs around the bar and swung upside down. The crowd oohed and ahhed in amazement.

  Nathan enjoyed watching the children and Ella as much or more than he appreciated the performance. Ella’s rapt expression revealed her enchantment. She glanced at him once, caught him watching her and smiled shyly. “Isn’t it exciting?”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  Once Hubert and Little Lou took to swinging out until one could let go and fly over to be caught by the other, the crowd drew a collective breath and then released it each time neither performer fell. The electrifying elements of anticipation and danger held each spectator mesmerized. It wasn’t long before Nathan, too, watched and became caught up in the excitement.

  The crowd cheered and gasped and applauded at the appropriate times, and when the acrobats climbed down and their feet touched the ground, the children seemed disappointed. Their unhappiness didn’t last long, how ever, because clowns and men on unicycles replaced the acrobats as the center of attention.

  Eventually, the performances ended, and the Lantrys once again walked the rows of vendors and salesmen. Nathan paused at a booth selling photographs of the performers. The sepia-toned likenesses were mounted on heavy card stock and an array of stands and albums could be purchased to hold them. He asked each of the children to select one, and he paid for them.

  Eventually, they picked up their family portraits and found a busy restaurant where they ate before heading for home. Robby and Grace fell asleep on the rear seat, and Ella invited Christopher to join them in the front, where he had more room without heads and legs lying atop his lap and could better enjoy the scenery. He gave her a grateful smile and situated himself between her and Nathan.

  “It sure was a fun day, Papa.”

  “It was Ella’s idea, actually. She’s the one who suggested we go.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her another tired grin. “This was the best day ever. I’m glad you came to marry us and be in our family.”

  His unexpected comment caused Ella’s throat to seize up.

  She glanced up at Nathan, finding him gauging her reaction, and then dropped her gaze right back to the boy. She swallowed and tested her voice. “It—it means a lot to me that you said so, Christopher. I’m very glad I married your father and joined your family, too. I never had a family before this one, so I’m still learning.”

  “You didn’t have no family at all? None?”

  She shook her head to affirm she had none.

  “Did your mama die, too?”

  “Yes. She did.”

  “What about your papa? Didn’t he take care of you when your mama died?”

  “He died, too.”

  “Oh.” He looked from her up to his father and slid his hand along his father’s trouser leg, until Nathan reached down and enfolded the child’s fingers into his much larger hand.

  Eventually, even Christopher wore out and leaned heavily against her shoulder. She raised her arm to hold him more closely, and he curled against her and slept soundly. She threaded his wavy fair hair away from his temples and studied his profile. Glancin
g up, she discovered Nathan watching her, but he looked away.

  Once at home, they woke the children, and she ushered them inside to eat a sandwich, then wash and change for bed while Nathan returned the horses to the livery.

  Once the young ones were all tucked into bed, she heated water for a bath and closed herself in the chamber behind the kitchen.

  A light tap sounded on the door. “Save the water for me,” Nathan called. “I’ll use it and dump the tub.”

  She finished and then dressed in her nightclothes and wrapper and entered the empty kitchen to make a pot of tea. After enjoying two cups, she rinsed the cup and wandered out to find the package Nathan had rested on a tabletop in the foyer.

  One of the portraits of the family was larger than all the rest, and Nathan had bought a frame which now held it. In the photograph, he stood behind Ella as she sat on the parlor chair with the children around her. She studied the portrait, noting the satisfaction in her own expression and the pride in Nathan’s. She carried the frame to the sitting room and found a prominent spot on the piano, then changed her mind and moved it to a table.

  Studying it reminded her of Nathan’s photograph of his wife. This photograph was deceptive. If a stranger looked at it he would imagine she belonged here and that she was the mother of these children. She wasn’t, of course. She was someone who’d come along later and filled a space in the family group. But maybe, just maybe, if she tried hard enough, the feeling of being alone and unwanted would fade.

  Turning away, she spotted the piano. She’d barely had any time to touch the beautiful instrument since it had been tuned, so she sat on the bench, opened the lid and played a few scales. The resonating deep tones sent a tingle up her spine.

  She had sheet music in a trunk upstairs, but she’d learned many compositions by heart. One particular piece came to her, and she played the opening measures. More came to mind, and she let the music sweep her away as it so often did.

  Most often, playing was an escape from her ordinary world, her only opportunity to lose herself and forget who she was and what she did. Tonight however, she had no desire to forget this day or the family with whom she lived or to lose part of herself. She played for the sheer beauty of the moment, pouring her feelings of gratitude and joy into the notes.