“Look what else I found.”
Casey strolled over next to Develyn. “What is that?”
“A wasp-waist corset.”
“Oh, no, I like my bumble-bee waist just fine. You are not getting me in one of those.”
Develyn pulled a purple dress from the wardrobe closet. “Isn’t this the most elegant, dusty dress you’ve ever seen?”
“It will look very good on you, but you are not getting me in a corset.”
“It’s for you.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t have the … eh … curves for it.”
“You mean you are too flat-chested?”
“That’s not the way I wanted to put it, but that’s about it. Come on, let’s try them on. It will get our minds off of eating.”
Casey held the purple dress up in front of her. “OK, but I will not wear that corset thing.”
* * *
Cree-Ryder hung her damp jeans over the back of a wrought-iron dressing table chair that was parked in front of the fireplace. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve worn a dress of any kind?”
“You look beautiful.”
“It always feels weird when I undo my braid and comb my hair out.”
“Casey, you have to-die-for hair.”
“I don’t know if it’s Native American hair or Mexican hair … but I do like it. Do you think it’s alright if we wear the jewelry too?”
Develyn pointed to the open jewelry box. “Let’s wear whatever we want, then leave everything exactly as we found it. It has laid here for a hundred years. It’s about time someone enjoyed it, even if only for a few minutes.”
“I wonder if the countess had double-pierced ears?” Casey stabbed on two sets of earrings, then pranced in front of a tall mirror. “How would you describe this dress?”
“I’d say it’s a suit of fine imported challie, trimmed with velvet to match the color of the design. The skirt has three small flounces around the hem, each with a piping of velvet. The waist has folds of challie and purple velvet down the front, with small violet velvet bows. There are shirred pieces of the challie coming from the sides of the waist and in front with a piping of bright pink velvet,” Develyn lectured.
“How did you know all of that?”
“I made most of it up. I can’t tell you how many buying trips I made with my mother when she owned a dress shop. I’d have to sit there and listen to salesmen give their pitch over and over.”
“But not these kind of dresses.”
“No, but some things never change.”
“What are these poofy-sleeves called?”
Develyn raised her upturned nose. “My dear, those are called … ‘poofy-sleeves’!”
Casey continued to stand in front of the mirror. “Other than not coming close to being able to button it in the back, it’s OK.”
“When you go to the royal ball tonight, make sure you stand with your back to the wall. No one will know.”
“Stand against the wall?” Casey chided. “Oh, sure, that’s easy for plain white bread like you. No one will care. But the prince will want to dance with the bronze bombshell. And if he puts his hand on my back …”
“Is that a problem?”
Casey’s eyes widened. “Only if the princess sees him do it!”
Develyn bowed before Casey. She cleared her throat, then spoke with a deep voice and phony accent. “Countess, would you consent to dance with me?”
Casey curtsied, “Certainly, my lord.”
Develyn took a step forward and put her left hand in Casey’s right. Her right hand rested on Cree-Ryder’s almost bare back.
“Oh, my,” Dev giggled. “That’s quite a different style of dress, countess.”
“Yes, it’s the rage in Paris this season. It’s called LeBak Unbuttoned.”
“Well, if it has a French sounding name, it must be OK.”
They waltzed around the room several times, then over to the bed and collapsed across it on their backs.
When the giggling stopped, Develyn sat up. “Casey … this is incredible. I’m a forty-five-year-old schoolteacher from Indiana who was so close to going crazy I took off for the summer to get away from everything. My daughter barely speaks to me because she thinks my hardness caused her father to have a heart attack and die. My mother keeps insisting that I’m a total failure. Before coming out here I hadn’t had a date in two years. My entire life has consisted of teaching fifth-graders, feeding cats, and sitting in a dark living room feeling sorry for myself.”
Casey continued to lie on her back. “Is this going somewhere?”
“Well, here I am in the middle of Wyoming in an abandoned mansion, dressed up in nineteenth-century Victorian garb, having the time of my life. Doesn’t that sound a bit strange?”
“Develyn Gail Upton Worrell, your life has been like this ever since I met you.”
“Then it’s all your fault.”
“I’m the sidekick, honey. I’m just here for a few laughs, so you can rescue me from peril.”
“Rescue you?”
“That’s what sidekicks are for, Devy-girl, to allow the heroine to be brave and daring.”
“This brave and daring heroine is going to build a fire. We need to warm up this room enough to dry out our other clothes.”
“We aren’t wearing these on the ride back to the truck?” Casey pulled herself off the bed and followed Develyn across the room.
They stood by the fireplace and watched the flame pop out of the dry firewood. Casey shoved on another log.
“OK, now that we’ve played dress up, I’m still hungry.”
Develyn glanced around the room. “We just need a differ ent game. Let’s look for the hidden treasure.” “What hidden treasure?” “This room is so private no one has found it for more than a hundred years. Maybe they had a secret compartment where the letters of French court intrigue are hidden.” “Or French gold?” “Or French perfumes.” “Or French fries, or French toast … or even a jar of French dressing!” Casey plopped down on the edge of the bed. “It beats doing nothing. Let’s see, countess, where is your secret hiding place?”
Develyn flopped back on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“That fire feels so good, I’m going to take a nap.”
“And make me do all this treasure hunting by myself?”
“Do you mind?”
“Don’t expect a 50/50 share of what I find,” Casey whined.
“You may have 60 percent, unless it’s something good to eat.”
“In which case we toss it out in the middle of the floor and fight for it like dogs,” Casey chuckled.
“That sounds fair enough. But you can’t use your knife.”
“Which one?”
“You have two knives?”
“I didn’t say I had two. I just said I had more than one.”
Develyn closed her eyes. I’ve never even seen a knife fight. I’ll just let Casey win.
The hay scratched her back, but the saddle blanket made a good pillow. Develyn pulled the lap blanket up to her shoulders.
I don’t know why they always fall asleep in the hay in the movies. It’s not very comfortable. Dewayne said there are rats in the hay, but if it had rats, then I’m sure Brownie wouldn’t eat it, and he loves it.
She opened one eye and peered through the moonlight at the brown horse.
I know they say you are old, but that only means you are wise. I think maybe you are the wisest horse in the whole world. Maybe Daddy will let me take you home. I could ride you back to Indiana…. We could stop every night and sleep under the stars and I could sing, and you could watch over me.
But I don’t sing very good, Brownie. Dewa can sing good, but we don’t want him to come with us. Brothers can be such a pain. Do you have any brothers? I don’t know if horses even recognize their own family. I
guess they recognize their mother … everyone recognizes his mother.
Sometimes I think my mother hardly recognizes me.
Lord, why am I such a disappointment to her? It’s like when I let my heart run where you’ve made it to run … I always disappoint her.
I can’t be like Mother.
She knows all the rules of life, and has a heart to keep them.
I don’t know all the rules. And sometimes, I don’t even want to know. Life is like the fancy silverware that grandma uses. Sometimes it’s like all my life I’ve been eating dinner with a salad fork.
That’s what I love about being out here in Wyoming and riding horses every day. There is no one to tell me how wrong I am. Lord, I love my mother. But we are so different. I hope when I grow up, she’ll be proud of everything I do.
Develyn rolled on her side. The hay didn’t poke her now. It smelled musty. But soft as an old comforter. A very old comforter.
* * *
“Hey, what’s going on up there? You’re trespassing on private property.”
Develyn sat straight up on the tall feather bed. Casey Cree-Ryder, in Victorian dress, stood at the back in the shadows. “What’s happening?” Develyn whispered. Casey pointed toward the front window. “I think we’ve been discovered.”
“We saw someone in that upper room!” a man’s voice hollered from the dark. “This is the central Wyoming Security Patrol. You are ordered out of the building.”
“Stay away from the windows,” Casey whispered. Develyn crawled off the bed and slid over next to
Cree-Ryder. “I was asleep. What happened?” “You mumbled a lot in your sleep.” “I was dreaming. This isn’t a dream, is it?”
“I think they are security from down at the gas refinery. Maybe they patrol this area every night. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t think I want to go down and talk to them dressed like this.”
Casey slipped her arm around Develyn’s shoulder. “I’m sure not. The back half of this dress is more embarrassing than a hospital gown.”
“Is the door down at the bottom of the stairs closed?”
“And locked.”
“Then they might not know how to get up here.”
“We seen you in that room when we drove up!” the man’s voice shouted.
Develyn leaned toward the window. Casey held her back. “Shhhh. Listen.”
“Someone’s in the house?”
Casey nodded.
“Burleigh, what did you find?”
A voice filtered up from the little balcony below them. “Ain’t no one in here, Rudy.”
“The light’s still on … you got to go up the stairs.”
“There ain’t no stairs. I’m on the top level.”
“Like heck you are. There’s a lantern lit in the room above you.”
“There ain’t no room above me. That’s just a false window into the attic.”
“Burleigh, go up there. I’m lookin’ at the lit room right now.”
“This is weird, Rudy.”
Casey leaned over to Develyn. “Let’s show him really weird. Did you ever go to church camp?”
Develyn studied her dark brown eyes. “Yes. What does that have …”
“You remember standin’ out in the forest with a flashlight so you could shine it on your face and scare the heebie-jeebies out of someone walking by in the dark?”
“I never did that.”
“You are the type that didn’t … and I’m the type that did it to your type. Anyway, let’s do it to them.”
“OK, we appear in the window and then what?”
“Turn out the lamps and let them flicker off. Then see what they do.”
Develyn nodded at the side window. “Can we wear those curtains for veils, like you did at the back door?”
“Sure.”
“There ain’t no floor higher than this one,” the voice from inside the house yelled.
“Rudy, come down here. Let me show you,” the other one insisted.
Develyn and Casey stayed out of view until they both had the thin white gauze curtains draped over their heads like a shawl.
“What’s the plan?” Develyn whispered.
“Appear at the windows at the exact same time. Scowl. Then allow the lamps to flicker out. We’ll back away, and see what they do next.”
“We’re in enough trouble already.”
“Yes, but it will buy us time. While they are trying to figure it out, we can change clothes in the dark,” Casey said. “If we are going to be arrested, I want to be wearing my jeans and boots.”
“Arrested?” Develyn shook her head. “I don’t want to get arrested.”
“Honey, it’s a little late to worry about that. This mansion visit was your idea, remember?”
They jockeyed themselves near the windows, both carrying oil lanterns.
“You see, Rudy. See that light up there.”
“And I say you can’t get up there because … ”
Casey nodded to Develyn. The ladies crept in front of the windows, each with a lantern, waist high, in front of them.
“There she is!” a man’s voice shouted.
“Burleigh, do you see that? There’s one in both windows.”
“What the … no … no …”
“Them lanterns went out. There was two of them, wasn’t there?”
“You didn’t see anything, Rudy.”
“I surely did, I saw …”
“What did you see?”
“Two gals lookin’ like … eh … ghosts … and …”
“You didn’t see anything. I didn’t see anything. You got that?”
“But … but … that one was the countess. She was a woman of color, you know.”
“We didn’t see a thing,” the other insisted again. “Do you want to go back to Gates and tell him that there are two ghost women livin’ in the mansion on a floor that has no stairs?”
“Eh, no … I thought you was going to tell him.”
“I didn’t see anything. What could I tell him? You tell him.”
“I … eh … didn’t … well, come to think of it, I didn’t see anything either.”
“And you didn’t smell that smoke coming out of the chimney?”
“What smoke?”
Develyn peeked through the darkened window at the truck taillights as they drove south along the creek bed.
“Yes!” Cree-Ryder shouted. “She was a woman of color … a bronze bombshell!”
Light the lanterns. Fetch my silk gown. Ring Maude in the kitchen to bring me up some tea. Please be a sweetie and draw me a hot bath,” Casey ordered. “I want the peach bubble bath tonight.”
Develyn and Casey rolled on the bed laughing.
“I haven’t had this much fun since a junior high slumber party,” Develyn giggled.
“I haven’t had this much fun, ever!”
“Casey, no one will believe this scene.”
“I don’t even believe it. Wait until you try to explain this to your friends in Indiana.”
Develyn reached over and slipped her hand into Casey’s. “I think you’ll have to come visit me, just to be a witness.”
Casey squeezed tight. “Is that an invitation?”
“Countess Cree-Ryder, my humble Crawfordsville abode is always open to you. I’d love to have you come visit, anytime.”
“Good. I’ll arrive by Thanksgiving and stay through Christmas. I like big presents and lots of them. Now, what do you think?”
“I’d be delighted.”
Casey stared at her for a minute. “I believe you would, sweet Devy-girl. I’ve never in my life had anyone want me to stick around for weeks.”
“Well, you met her now.”
In the dark, they continued to lie on the bed.
“You got room for ten horses in your backyard?” C
asey said.
“No.”
“That’s OK, I’ll keep them indoors. They’re all house- broken …”
Develyn bounced up off the bed. “What?”
Casey pulled herself up. “You are so easy to tease, Miss Dev. Listen, I won’t bring horses, and I won’t stay for six weeks, but I’d love to come visit you sometime this fall or winter.”
“Casey, I meant it about the Thanksgiving-to-Christmas invite.”
“I know you did. But what will your husband say?”
“My husband?” The word exploded from Develyn’s mouth.
“I figure you’ll be married by then.”
“I told you that Quint wasn’t the one.”
Casey struck a match and relit one of the lanterns. “Oh, sure, he’s not the one. That only leaves a million other cowboys who are chasin’ you Miss Dev.” “I think your dress is too tight. It’s making you delusional.” Casey strolled around the room. “Well, before I pass out like that chick in Pirates of the Caribbean, we better plan our escape. Those two security guards will be back as soon as it’s daylight. I suggest we try to sleep, get up about 4 a.m., saddle up and ride away from the house. Even if we can’t find a trail out of the canyon, we can be a long way from the mansion.”
“Do you think they will come back before then?” Develyn peered out the front window at a black Wyoming sky.
“Nope. They aren’t about to admit they saw ghosts.”
Develyn tugged off the musty silk dress. “With all the excitement, I hope we can fall asleep.”
Casey posed in front of the big mirror. “I feel like Ella having to leave the ball at midnight.”
“Ella?”
“Cinder-Ella. She carried the cinders and was named Ella. What do they teach in the fifth grade in Indiana?”
“Not enough, I can see.”
* * *
Develyn sat straight up in the hay when Brownie bit her bare toe. But it wasn’t hay. Nor Brownie.
Nor a bite.
“Ouch!” The dim light from the lantern barely reached the bed.
“Time to get up, Devy-girl.”
“Casey, it’s still dark.”
“Yeah, but daylight will break by the time we saddle up the horses. It’s time to ride back to reality.”
“It’s cold in here.”
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 28