Her Wyoming Man

by Cheryl St. John

  In the kitchen, Ella poured water from the pitcher that had been pumped earlier into the kettle and placed it on the stove. Charlotte had recently browned meat, and the scent remained in the air. The stove was still hot, and Ella added kindling.

  Charlotte was nowhere in sight at the moment. Ella noticed the laundry tub and guessed she was out back.

  “I told Paul the truth,” Celeste said.

  Not quite comprehending her meaning, Ella wiped her hands on a towel and turned to look at her. “About what?”

  “About me. I told him the truth about Dodge City.”

  The information sank into Ella’s mind and she blinked in shock. “You what?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I couldn’t keep lying to Paul,” Celeste said, her tone pleading with Ella to understand. “I couldn’t take the chance that he’d find out some other way and be crushed. I couldn’t hurt him like that. I didn’t want my entire life to be a lie…so I told him.”

  Ella stared at the window without seeing the sunshine reflected on the panes. She stood like that until the kettle whistled and Celeste stepped around her to move it from the heat.

  “What happened when you told him?” She hadn’t noticed Celeste’s bags on the front porch, but surely they were there right this moment. Celeste would likely be looking for work. For a place to stay. What had she been thinking?

  “He cried some. Never saw a man cry before. It surely tore me up inside.”

  Ella tried to picture it, but couldn’t.

  “And then he thanked me for bein’ truthful. He said it didn’t make any difference to him what I did before, so long as I intended to be his wife now.”

  “It doesn’t make a difference to him?” Ella sank onto a chair. Paul Adams knew. “He knows about all of us then.”

  “I didn’t mean to spill the beans on everyone, but once he knew there was no Miss Haversham’s, he figured out we’d all come from the same place.”

  Ella thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Visions of Nathan learning about her made her light-headed. She imagined the reactions of Betsy, Minnie and Phoebe, and a panicky feeling seized her. She thought of the past nights she’d spent in Nathan’s arms and the relationship that had been developing between them. A trembling began in her limbs. She’d never been so afraid. “What if he tells people? What if he tells Nathan?”

  “He won’t. He said the others aren’t his business. Only I’m his business, and he’s settled my past in his head and we’re going to put it behind us.”

  “Oh my,” Ella said, now struggling to take a deep breath.

  “I feel so much better,” Celeste told her. “Like I’ve shrugged off a heavy load.”

  She felt better! A spark of anger ignited. “We were all in this together,” Ella said and speared Celeste with a glare. “We came here to start a new life and not have to be who we were before. We committed to this secret together, all of us.”

  “I’m sorry if you feel as though I’ve let you down,” Celeste said. “I just couldn’t go on holding it in anymore. Pretending doesn’t change us. Being truthful changes us. I’m not the same person anymore.”

  Ella didn’t know what felt worse: being who she was or lying about who she was. She didn’t enjoy lying any more than Celeste did. But the ruse had been the only way to carve out a new beginning.

  She couldn’t imagine Nathan accepting the news about her past and placidly saying it didn’t make a difference. Nathan was proud and honorable and nothing had ever stained him or his reputation. She had his standing in the community to consider. His reputation had to remain unblemished for him to have a successful run for governor of the territory. His aspirations to hold a civil office would be ruined if the news got out that he’d married a courtesan.

  She thought of his resolve to wait to initiate her to lovemaking because he believed she was as pure as his first wife had been. If he knew the truth, he’d be repulsed and disillusioned.

  “I’m not the same person, either,” Ella declared, but she wasn’t certain. The only thing that had changed was her ability to feel. And at this point she didn’t know now if feeling was such a great experience. She couldn’t bear thinking of how much Nathan would suffer if he knew the truth about her.

  She wanted to be the woman he believed she was.

  Confused and frightened, she brought trembling hands up to cover her face.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Celeste said softly. “I’m not sorry I did it, but I didn’t mean to make things harder for you.”

  Ella nodded and lowered her hands, determined to bring her emotions under control. “I know.”

  “Paul won’t tell anyone.”

  “All right.” Unconvinced, she got up and took a deep breath to gather her wits and courage. “Let’s have tea.”

  Back in the sitting room, Grace had dragged two of her miniature chairs over to the tea table. Her undressed doll occupied one and she sat on the other. When Ella entered with the tea tray, Grace clapped her hands and smiled.

  Ella offered Celeste a seat on the divan and tried to turn her thoughts away from Celeste’s admission, but the unsettled sick feeling wasn’t going away.

  The other woman smoothed her skirts and sat comfortably on the divan.

  Grace handed Ella the doll dress she’d abandoned, and Ella worked to pull the garment over the doll’s head and fasten the miniature buttons.

  “You’re the first person who’s come for tea,” Ella told Celeste while handing the doll back to Grace, who promptly arranged her on her seat.

  Celeste smiled and gestured to Grace and the doll. “Looks like these two ladies got here before me.”

  Grace appeared for all intents and purposes to have settled herself in for the duration of their tea, and Ella didn’t see any reason she shouldn’t join them.

  “I’d better get more cups.” Ella hurried out, returning with the cups and a second small pitcher of cream. She poured tea into four cups, making Grace’s and the dolls’ only half-full. She had brought a cup of milk for Robby.

  Grace looked at the plate of cookies expectantly, her gaze turning up to Ella.

  “What would you like, Grace?”

  The child pointed to the plate.

  “What are those?”

  Grace simply stared at the treats.

  “Robby, would you like a cookie and milk?”

  Robby dropped a block and got to his feet. “Cookie, please!”

  She waited until he’d taken a seat on the floor before handing him a cookie and sitting the cup beside him. He bit into the treat immediately.

  “Grace, would you like a cookie?” Ella asked.

  The little girl nodded.

  After a moment of frustrating silence, Ella handed her a cookie and indicated the cup of milky sweetened tea. “There you go then.”

  Celeste glanced from Grace to Ella. “Did you bake these?”

  “No, Charlotte did. She does most of the cooking, and she’s an excellent baker.”

  “Maybe she would share the recipe.”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t min—”

  “Wanna cookie, Dolly? You can have part of mine. There, don’t cwy.”

  In surprise, Ella glanced at Grace, who had spoken to the doll seated beside her.

  “I help-ded Miss Charlotte make these, and it was hawd work,” she said. “Do you love the sugah on top? I sprinkled it my own self.”

  Having never heard Grace’s childish little voice before, Ella listened, enthralled. Her heart rate increased with excitement. Celeste was looking at Ella curiously.

  Ella leaned over to whisper in her ear. “She never speaks. Not to us, anyway. Nathan told me he’d heard her talking to her dolls while she was playing in her room, but this is the first I’ve heard her voice.”

  Celeste smiled, but both women were careful not to stare at Grace and make her self-conscious.

  “Charlotte has quite a few excellent recipes she can share,” Ella said to Celeste. “She’s been
showing me how to do a little cooking, so I can help out more when she’s not here.”

  Grace picked up the piece of cookie she’d set in front of the doll and nibbled it gone.

  “Is your cookie all gone, Dolly?” Ella asked, speaking directly to the doll. “Perhaps you’d like another?”

  Grace glanced from her doll to Ella and back, her eyebrows raised as though surprised that an adult was talking to her doll.

  Ella broke a cookie in half and placed it in front of the doll. “There are plenty, so enjoy another one, won’t you? How about you, Celeste?”

  “I’d love another one, thanks.”

  Ella didn’t really know if what she was doing was beneficial, but Grace’s conversation with the doll felt like their first real communication, so she didn’t mind if the chat was out of the ordinary.

  “Don’t buwn your tongue on your tea,” Grace cautioned the doll and took a sip of hers.

  As delighted as Ella was to hear Grace talk, her pleasure was overshadowed by a dark cloud now that Celeste had told Paul the truth about their background. It was entirely possible that her days here were numbered, and the thought was crushing.

  They finished their tea and Charlotte arrived to take the trays. Ella introduced her to Celeste and asked the cook if she would be kind enough to share recipes. Charlotte was happy to oblige and promised a handful the following week.

  Before long, Ella saw the other woman to the door and wished her a good day.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Celeste assured her. “Paul will keep our secret, I’m convinced.”

  Ella nodded. “I hope so.”

  “He will. Don’t you worry about it, okay? I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “Thursday?”

  “It’s Independence Day. The town was already abuzz this morning.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She’d heard talk of the celebration for weeks now, and Nathan had been working on the speech he would give for the city council and the crowd on that morning. Ella had never attended anything of the sort. She should be looking forward to the festivities, but worry was already set into motion and her dark cloud of concern wasn’t going anywhere.

  Ella did her best to stay busy and keep her mind occupied. That evening, she shared with Nathan how Grace had spoken to the doll. After planning what she and the children would wear on Independence Day, she arranged tea parties in the nursery on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons. Both days, Grace carried on a conversation with her doll, still never replying to anything Ella said.

  Robby was always congenial and willing to participate in any games or readings Ella presented. Instructing him on the piano was a challenge, because he simply wanted to bang the keys in any fashion that suited him, but she kept working until he could point out middle C.

  The more attached to and involved with the children she grew, the more worrisome thoughts of her history being discovered became. At night she lay awake beside Nathan, his breathing even and peaceful, while her imagination conjured up scenarios in which Paul Adams paid her husband a visit and told him all he knew.

  How was it that Paul had accepted the truth without turning Celeste away? Being around the women of Sweetwater had taught her the strict codes of conduct and propriety suitable for good people. Anything less—anything as lewd as Ella’s previous life would be unacceptable. A woman’s gentility reflected on her husband, and only the highest order of modesty and virtuousness was tolerated.

  If the truth came to light, Nathan’s good name would be ruined. In the wee hours of the morning, just as the first rays of dawn reached their bedroom windows and as the early and exuberant celebrants fired guns and set off fireworks in the distance, Ella wondered if perhaps she should tell Nathan before he learned about Dodge City or the parlor house from Paul.

  The gunfire woke him, and he rolled his head toward her, opening his eyes and gazing into hers. “Good morning.”

  His voice was low and gravelly from sleep.

  “Good morning,” she replied.

  “How is it you’re as lovely first thing in the morning as you were the night before? Sometimes I think I must have dreamed you, because no man is this fortunate.”

  She gave him a smile. “I’m not moved by flattery, as you well know.”

  “Ah, fortunate for me, I’ve learned how to move you.”

  He scooted closer to kiss her bare shoulder and her collarbone, his lips creating tingling shivers of delight.

  He took her in his arms, bringing their bodies in alignment beneath the sheet.

  “Papa!” The shout was followed by a loud rap on the closed door.

  Nathan gave her a look of regret. “This will have to wait until tonight,” he promised, then called over his shoulder, “What is it, Christopher?”

  The door flew open. “Did you hear the firecrackers? They’ve begun celebrating!”

  Nathan gave Ella a quick kiss and sat up. “People fire their weapons and set off fireworks all day long on Independence Day. Remember? Those sounds you heard are neighbors starting the day early.”

  “I can’t wait for the fireworks,” the boy said.

  “Neither can I,” Nathan replied. “That’s my favorite part.” He glanced at Ella. “How about you? What’s your favorite part of Independence Day?”

  “I don’t know yet. This will be my first.”

  A line formed between the boy’s brows. “But the Fourth of July comes every year.”

  She had to be more careful about how she said things, because she hated adding more lies to her relationships. “Well, I was always in school.”

  “Even on the weekend?” he asked in disbelief.

  “She lived at an academy,” Nathan explained.

  “You’ll like Independence Day,” Christopher assured her, his face solemn. “The speeches and stuff are kinda boring. But after that everything is fun.”

  Nathan raised his eyebrows and looked from Ella to his son, who continued talking, unaware that he’d insulted his father. “Last year there was a war dance,” Christopher went on. “What tribe were they, Papa?”

  “Cree, I believe,” Nathan replied.

  “They wore long feathers.” Christopher gestured with drawn-out motions from both sides of his head. “And beaded moccasins and fur leggings.”

  “There were Cheyenne dancers, too,” Nathan added.

  “They even have feathers on their tomahawks,” the boy told her. “And there are lots of games for anybody who wants t’play, like croquet—but mostly the girls do that—and baseball and wheelbarrow races. And there are prizes, too. Right, Papa?”

  “That’s right. Dress in old clothes if you want to climb the greased pole,” Nathan told Ella with a grin. “There’ll be a five-dollar bill right on top.”

  She gave him a skeptical glance, and he winked.

  “Can I try to climb the pole this time, Papa?” Christopher asked.

  “Sure you can.” He glanced at Ella again. “I have to wear a suit for the opening oration and the reading of the Declaration of Independence, but I’ll come back and change afterward. We don’t want to worry about our clothing. The games get messy. Then we’ll come home and clean up before the fireworks this evening. Let us get up and dressed now.”

  The boy grinned and shot out of the room.

  Already the day was promising to be one of the warmest of the summer. Ella had chosen a pale pink cotton dress for herself. Streamers of matching ribbons fluttered from her wide-brimmed straw hat.

  She had selected a lightweight green-striped dress for Grace, and helped Robby don a white shirt and knee-length pants. She’d purchased a straw hat for him. He frowned and pouted when she placed it on his head.

  “It will keep the sun from your eyes,” she assured him. “And you look quite dashing in it.” She picked him up and showed him his reflection in the hall mirror.

  He appeared dubious, but soon forgot his uncertainty when his father called from below, “Who wants to ride in the buggy for the parade?”

&n
bsp; Robby squirmed from her arms and took the stairs as quickly as his short little legs would allow. “Me am, Papa!”

  Wearing her frilly bonnet, Grace joined Ella and reached for her hand before they descended the stairs. The gesture of trust and acceptance touched Ella.

  “Whatever is wrong?” Nathan asked from where he stood in the foyer with Robby on one arm, his own hat in his other hand. Concern etched his handsome brow.

  Ella shook her head, concerned that she’d shown emotion plain enough for her husband to notice. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just happy.”

  “Well, you both look as sweet as ice cream,” he assured them. “You’ll be the prettiest girls there.”

  Grace smiled up at her, and Ella returned her look of happiness. She was going to enjoy this day, regardless of the worry that niggled at her conscience. The celebration was important to the children and to Nathan, and they were important to her.

  This was Independence Day, after all, and freedom was something she was determined to appreciate.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Christopher wore a pair of dungarees and a short-sleeved shirt and looked for all the world as though he was setting off on an adventure. And indeed he was, Ella realized shortly after leaving the house.

  The neighborhood bustled with activity as families set out for Main Street.

  All manner of gaily decorated conveyances waited on the outermost road. Nathan led them to an open wagon that was in line before the fire department’s water wagon. It was another twenty-five minutes before all the officials had boarded the buggies and wagons. Once all were in place, the parade began, with the band proudly leading the way.

  Men, women and children lined the thoroughfare, cheering and waving. “I never realized there were so many people in Sweetwater,” Ella said.

  “A lot of them live on surrounding ranches and farms, plus people come from all the nearby towns for the celebration.”

  Once they reached the main thoroughfare, the transformation was breathtaking. Every building along Main Street had been draped in red, white and blue bunting swags that hung from the edges of roofs and railings. American flags flapped in the sunlight.