by Amanda Cabot
“Shall we start over?” As a smile crossed his face, Gwen returned it, pleased to see the pain—if that’s what it was—fading. “Good afternoon, Harrison. It’s a pleasure to see you.” And it was. He looked different today. His hair was freshly cut, and that was a new shirt he was wearing. If she hadn’t known better, Gwen would have thought today was a special day.
His smile broadened as he took another step into the apartment. “That’s better. It’s a pleasure to see you too.” He looked around, his eyes skimming over the small room. “Where’s Rose?”
“Taking a nap. She rarely does that, but she seemed more tired than usual today, so I put her to bed.” That had given Gwen the unexpected opportunity to frost a cake without Rose’s constant pleas for a taste.
“Then perhaps my plan should be postponed.” Harrison fixed his gaze on Gwen. “I have a favor to ask of you—a big favor.”
Gwen swirled the frosting, trying to hide the gouge she’d made, then laid the knife down, resisting the urge to lick it. The cake wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
“I’ll help you any way I can.” Though she couldn’t imagine what possible assistance she could provide, she’d never refuse him.
“You know I was looking for a ranch where I could raise horses.” When she nodded, Harrison continued. “I found one that looks promising, but before I buy it, I wondered if you and Rose would visit it. I’d like your opinion.”
Gwen’s heart began to pound at the thought that this man, this wonderful man, wanted her opinion. “Today? What about the store?” It had been only a few weeks since Landry Dry Goods had opened, and Harrison had reported that the early surge of customers continued.
“Daniel can take care of it. I really want you and Rose to see the ranch today.”
He sounded sincere, and that made Gwen’s pulse surge. “I don’t know a lot about ranches,” she cautioned him.
“But you do know about houses. That’s where I need help.”
Gwen glanced at the parlor clock. “Rose should be waking any minute.” It had already been half an hour, and that was usually the limit of her daughter’s naps.
As if on cue, Rose emerged from the room they shared, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Mama, why is Mr. Landry here? It’s not suppertime yet.”
“No, it’s not. He wants to take us on a ride. Would you like that?” It was a rhetorical question, for Rose would do anything to be close to a horse.
“Oh yes!” She flashed Harrison her brightest smile. “Let’s go now.”
“I hope you won’t regret this. My daughter can be a bit rambunctious,” Gwen said as she gathered coats and bonnets for herself and Rose. Though the October sun was bright, the air would cool quickly as the afternoon progressed.
“I don’t mind.” While Rose scampered down the stairs, Harrison and Gwen followed more slowly. “I thought we’d take the wagon,” he said, pointing toward the street where his horse was hitched. “The ranch is about three quarters of an hour from here. I figured Rose would be happier in the back.”
She was. Rose had insisted on bringing her doll with her and spent the time pointing out sights to the doll while Gwen simply enjoyed being with Harrison. “Tell me about the ranch,” she said when they’d left the city, headed east. For a second as they’d driven south on Ferguson, she’d feared that the ranch Harrison wanted to buy was the one where she’d spent the worst night of her life. When he turned east, the sickening dread had drained away. That ranch had been west of the city. She would never have to see it again.
“It’s not big, at least not by Wyoming standards,” Harrison said with a self-deprecating smile. “Only forty acres, but the grass looks rich, and there’s a small creek. The owner said it has water all year.” The enthusiasm in Harrison’s voice left no doubt that he was excited about the prospect of the ranch. “The house is smaller than I would have liked, but I can always add to it.”
“How much space does one man need?” she asked. Harrison had told Gwen that he didn’t intend to hire help, that he would raise only as many horses as he could handle by himself.
His jaw tightened and he looked away for a moment. When his eyes met Gwen’s again, his expression was hooded, and his voice sounded almost strangled as he said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t be living there alone.”
“Of course.” No wonder Harrison was so ill at ease. It had to be awkward for him to refer to a future wife in front of another woman. It was more than awkward for Gwen. It was painful. And so she turned toward the back of the wagon under the guise of checking on Rose.
When she had regained her composure, Gwen asked Harrison about the breeds of horses he planned to raise. The conversation remained on safe ground until they arrived at the ranch. Other than the small house and a couple outbuildings, there was no sign of habitation. Though the sole spindly tree near the house had lost its leaves, the row of cottonwoods whose presence marked the banks of the stream had a few leaves clinging to their gnarled branches.
“The owners moved back East,” Harrison said as he helped Gwen down from the wagon, “but they left most of their furnishings.” He looked at Rose, who was racing toward the outbuildings, her feet churning up dust. “Is it all right to leave her outside while we go in?”
Gwen nodded as she studied the house that Harrison planned to share with his bride. Though it had once been white, the sun and wind had taken their toll on the modest structure, leaving it in need of at least one coat of paint. Had it been her home, Gwen would have added a porch on the east side. Protected from the wind, it would be a pleasant spot to linger after supper, talking about the day that had just passed, making plans for the next.
“What do you think?” To Gwen’s surprise, Harrison sounded almost nervous.
Unsure of what to say, she told him the truth. “It needs a porch.”
“A porch?”
“Yes. With a swing.” Gwen’s eyes narrowed as she envisioned herself sitting on that swing. It wouldn’t happen, but it didn’t hurt to dream.
Harrison inclined his head. “I like that idea. A porch swing makes a house a home.”
It was silly to feel so elated, simply because he shared her opinion, but Gwen’s spirits rose and she was smiling as they entered the house. Though not much larger than the apartment she shared with Elizabeth, it felt more spacious, perhaps because the walls were whitewashed rather than being papered. The interior consisted of one large room that served as a parlor and dining room, with a medium-sized bedroom on one side and a kitchen grafted onto the back.
Looking at the scarred table and chairs and the straight-backed upholstered chairs that created a sitting area in the parlor, Gwen wondered about the people who had lived here. What dreams had brought them here, and why had they left? Though there was something sad about the half-furnished house, the rooms also seemed filled with possibility. Perhaps that was what had attracted Harrison.
“It’s very nice,” she said honestly. “All you need are some curtains and rugs and it’ll feel like home.” As she pronounced the words, Gwen’s mind conjured the picture of red gingham curtains and a braided rag rug in the dining area, solid red curtains and a hooked rug in the parlor. A couple soft pillows would transform the uncomfortable-looking upholstered chairs into a pleasant sitting area, while a brightly colored quilt would enliven the bedroom. It wouldn’t take much to turn this into a real home.
Her mind whirled with the image of herself hanging those curtains, then laughing when Harrison didn’t notice the difference. Mike hadn’t cared how she decorated their house, and she suspected Harrison would be no different. Silly girl, she chastised herself. There’s no point in dreaming about things that will never happen. “It’s a nice house,” she said after she cleared her throat.
Harrison pursed his lips. “There’s no room for children, though.”
Children. Of course. He would want children as well as a wife. “You’ll have plenty of time before a baby arrives,” Gwen said as calmly as she could, while all the whi
le her stomach roiled. She gestured toward the south wall. “You can put a door there. Once you open the wall, the room can be as big as you want. You could even have two rooms if you have a lot of children.” She absolutely would not picture Harrison holding an infant in his arms, smiling at the baby, then giving the child’s mother a loving look.
Oblivious to her inner distress, Harrison seemed to relax. “So you like it? Would you be comfortable living here?”
It was a rhetorical question. Gwen wouldn’t delude herself into thinking he meant anything special by it. She’d made that mistake before, believing that a man cared for her and wanted to marry her. She wouldn’t fall into that trap again.
“It’s a lovely home, Harrison.” By some miracle, her voice sounded bright and cheerful. “Any woman would be happy to live here.”
Though she’d thought she had managed to allay his fears, he still looked dubious. “Mrs. Rodgers wasn’t. That’s why they moved back East. She hated the wind and being so far from town.”
“That’s unfortunate for her and her husband, although it’s good for you, isn’t it?” Gwen walked to the west window to check on Rose. As she’d expected, her daughter was walking more slowly now, but she appeared to be studying everything about the ranch. Gwen wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Rose was counting blades of grass. Of course, she couldn’t count very high, so that pastime was often a frustrating one.
Gwen turned around and smiled at Harrison. “It’s amazing how different we all are. I grew up on a farm. I was so used to open spaces that it was an adjustment when Mike and I lived at Fort Russell. I wasn’t comfortable having so many people so close, but I adjusted. I’m sure your wife will too.” Gwen wouldn’t think about how often she’d dreamed about being that woman. No matter how deeply she cared about him, she knew that a man like Harrison Landry would never marry a woman like her. “I’d better check on Rose,” she said, though there was no need.
Deliberately pushing thoughts of Harrison’s wife aside, Gwen resolved to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and she did. Rose was happier than Gwen had seen her in months. Just running from the barn to the house to the chicken coop seemed to thrill her, and when Harrison showed her where he planned to locate the corral, she was ecstatic, begging him to bring her back when the horses arrived. The sparkle in Rose’s eyes and the color in her cheeks told Gwen that her daughter loved the outdoors. If this were their home, Rose would thrive here. But it wasn’t, and Gwen had to remember that.
She looked at Harrison. He’d lifted Rose onto his shoulders when the child had, in typical Rose fashion, declared that the view would be better if she were taller. Once perched on his shoulders, in another change of mood so characteristic of Rose, she had decided that Harrison was a horse and that he should take her for a ride. He’d acceded to her demand, trotting around the house once. Now he placed her back on the ground, saying firmly, “That’s enough for today. This is an old horse.”
While Rose scampered off to the chicken coop, Gwen darted a glance at Harrison. Perhaps it was her imagination, but he still seemed nervous. He’d been his old self while he was playing with Rose, but now that he was alone with Gwen, he seemed ill at ease. That was unlike Harrison, but today was unlike any other time they had spent together. He must have felt as uncomfortable talking about his future wife as Gwen had knowing she was passing judgment on another woman’s home. No way around it, it was an awkward situation.
Though he hadn’t mentioned her before, Harrison’s prospective bride must be someone from his home in Pennsylvania. If she had been a local resident, he would have brought her out to see the ranch. Gwen sighed at the realization that the only reason he’d asked for her opinion was that he wanted a woman—any woman—to see the house and land before he bought it.
And yet, hours later, Gwen could not forget how beautiful the ranch had been. Others might claim that it was simply a piece of land and a small house, but it had seemed like so much more. When she’d been there, Gwen had felt as if she’d come home. The ranch would be the perfect place for both Rose and her. If only . . .
Though she knew that it was probably too late, that any changes she might make were futile, for Harrison had already chosen his bride, Gwen reached for the bottle. Perhaps if she took another dose of the medicine, that ugly lump of fat around her waist would go away and Harrison would see her for what she was: the woman who loved him.
No matter how often she told herself to be calm, Elizabeth could not recall the last time she’d looked forward to anything as much as she was dinner tonight. She smiled as she gazed at the pale blue silk gown that lay across her bed, waiting for her to don it. With its matching gloves and the ribbon that she’d threaded through her hair, it was an ensemble fit for a princess. Thanks to Charlotte, Elizabeth would be well-dressed for her dinner at the InterOcean. Thanks to Jason, she had the excitement of anticipating her first public meal with a man.
Elizabeth picked up the gown and began to step into the skirt, trying to chase away the memory of the last time she’d seen Miriam. Though Miriam had come to the office for an official visit, conversation had turned to personal matters.
“He’s courting you,” Elizabeth’s patient and friend had said with a knowing smile when she mentioned the invitation to dinner.
Fortunately, Elizabeth had been reaching for her stethoscope when Miriam had made that pronouncement. Her bent head kept Miriam from seeing the blush that stained her cheeks. “Jason isn’t courting me any more than Oscar Miller was. Your problem is that you see romance everywhere you look.”
Miriam chuckled. “I don’t have to look very hard to see you and Jason together. I’ve seen you walking past Maple Terrace at least three times in the past week.”
“It’s true that Jason walks home with me every day,” Elizabeth admitted, “but I wouldn’t call that courting.”
“Just what would you call it?”
“Friendship.”
Miriam’s laugh left no doubt of her opinion. “When a man looks at a woman the way Jason looks at you, friendship is not what’s on his mind.”
Placing the stethoscope on Miriam’s belly to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, Elizabeth shook her head. “Jason’s a friend. A good friend, but that’s all.”
“If you say so.” And Miriam had laughed again.
The memory of Miriam’s laughter still echoing through her brain, Elizabeth called to Gwen. “I’m ready for you.” Though she could manage the skirt without assistance, the bodice was another story. Elizabeth stretched her arms out as far as she could so that Gwen could slide the bodice on. With her corset laced as tight as it had to be for this gown, Elizabeth could not easily complete the rest of her toilette.
She took a shallow breath, her thoughts wandering to Sheila and her unborn child. Though she hoped the woman had put her corsets aside, Elizabeth doubted that was likely, but she hoped Sheila was at least loosening the laces. Charlotte’s claim that gowns like this made a woman appear beautiful was correct. They did. The question was, at what cost? Elizabeth knew she would suffer no permanent harm from having her ribs constricted for an evening, but many women, including Sheila, wore their corsets both night and day, believing that a tiny waist was worth any price.
As she stood next in front of the mirror, assuring herself that everything was perfect, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Gwen’s profile. Surely it wasn’t her imagination that the woman who shared her apartment was thinner.
“Have you tightened your laces?” she asked.
Gwen shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“You look thinner.”
The smile that lit Gwen’s face told Elizabeth she had said precisely the right thing. “And you look beautiful.”
Jason echoed Gwen’s sentiments when he arrived. Giving a soft whistle, he grinned at Elizabeth. “You look more beautiful than ever tonight.”
Elizabeth shook her head. The one who was beautiful was Jason, though she doubted he’d appreciate her telling him that. It wasn’t the
first time she’d seen him in formal clothing, but Elizabeth never failed to be impressed by how distinguished he looked in his tailcoat and black waistcoat. Though some men appeared uncomfortable in stiff-bosomed shirts, Jason gave no sign of discomfort. To the contrary, his elegant clothing seemed to fit him as well as his more casual daily wear did. Perhaps it was simply that he was comfortable with himself, and clothing was of little importance.
“Beautiful,” he said, contradicting her silent protest.
“That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t believe me,” Gwen chimed in.
Rose tugged on her mother’s skirts. “Aunt Elizabeth is pretty.”
“See, it’s unanimous.”
Elizabeth conceded defeat. “Thank you all,” she said with a small curtsey. “Charlotte’s gowns are designed to make the wearer look beautiful.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and turned to Jason. “She’s hopeless.”
“But beautiful.” Jason smoothed the cape over Elizabeth’s shoulders and opened the door for her. As they descended the steps, he added, “You’re not just beautiful. You’re a fine doctor too.”
“You’re going to turn my head.” During the years that she’d been studying medicine, Elizabeth had learned to ignore jeers and insults, but she’d had no experience with compliments, and so they left her feeling slightly disoriented. Still, she couldn’t deny that it felt good to be the object of a man’s admiration.
Elizabeth smiled as she and Jason were ushered into the InterOcean’s dining room. Looking around as the waiter showed them to their table, she noted that the room was as elegant as the exterior of the building had led her to expect. Highly polished dark paneling covered the lower half of the walls, and the ceiling was coffered with the same wood. Snowy white table linens and shiny wallpaper lightened what could have been an almost depressingly dark room, turning it into a luxurious space that somehow managed to feel intimate, despite its size. It was no wonder this was one of Cheyenne’s most popular dining spots.
