Heartstrings

by Rebecca Paisley

  She gasped with excitement. “Thank you so much, Dr. Wallaby! You’ve no idea what this means to me.”

  “You are most welcome. As you know, I plan to sail back to South America as soon as I receive further funding. I hope the money will arrive soon, but such things take time. In the meantime, if you would like to return to Boston and spend a bit of time with Upton and your sister Lillian, that would be perfectly fine.”

  Theodosia nodded. She would return to Boston all right, but not before she had the child in her arms. “Dr. Wallaby, there is a certain matter I would like to discuss with you. A sexual matter, actually, and I—”

  “Ah, so you’ve heard, have you?” Dr. Wallaby smiled. “Well, I suppose the news was bound to spread sooner or later.”

  “News?”

  He laid her thesis on the table and slid a bluebonnet from the jar. “Lupinus subcamosus,” he murmured pensively, twirling the stem of the blossom between his fingers. “The bluebonnet arrived in this country in the mid-1840s, either with Russian immigrants who brought it with the intention of planting it, or by accident in a shipment of flax from Germany. Their manner of arrival, however, is irrelevant. What concerns me are the flowers themselves.”

  Theodosia glanced at the bluebonnet, unable to comprehend the scientist’s sudden decision to discuss the flower.

  “While the saliva of the rare Pindamonhangaba beetle might very well provide the cure for baldness,” Dr. Wallaby continued, “the common bluebonnet shows great potential for supplying the remedy for impotence in the human male.”

  Theodosia frowned. “Impotence, Dr. Wallaby?”

  He rose, and his bony hands clasped behind his back, the bluebonnet dangling from his fingers, he paced around the room for many long moments. Finally, he stopped beside Theodosia’s chair and looked down at her. “I cannot express the excitement I feel toward my initial findings. Impotence is a malady that distresses a great many men. Because I understand personally the depth of said distress, I am determined to continue with my experiments. My dilemma, however, is that I am committed to my research in Brazil and have time for little else.”

  Theodosia peered up at him, recalling that Upton had said Dr. Wallaby had. chosen to remain unwed for personal reasons. A vague sense of foreboding darkened the bright plans she’d laid. “How is it that you are able to personally comprehend such dismay?”

  He smiled a sad smile. “Although I have devoted my life to research, there was a time many years ago when I desired a wife and children. I abandoned the desire, however, because I am unable to sire children. You see. Miss Worth, I suffer the unfortunate affliction of impotence.”

  The early morning sunshine poured over the weather-beaten wooden sign that said wild winds. Nailed to one of the red mulberry trees that lined the road, it pointed straight ahead.

  Theodosia let go of the reins for a moment, retied the ribbons on her pink bonnet, and gave a quick pat to the smooth chignon at the nape of her neck.

  “Wild Winds surely has its share of men, John the Baptist. One of them might very well be qualified to replace Dr. Wallaby. Oh, poor, poor Dr. Wallaby.”

  A tinge of guilt caused her to lower her head and stare at her lap. The dear man had believed every lie she’d told him this morning and thought it a wonderful idea for her to study the speech habits of the South while he waited for his research funding to arrive. He’d been especially pleased when she told him she’d hired Roman to escort her to the various towns in which she would conduct her studies. Why, Dr. Wallaby had even agreed to wait for her in Brazil rather than Templeton if she didn’t return in time to sail with him.

  Having dealt with Dr. Wallaby, she’d then set about writing to Upton and Lillian, telling them the same lies she’d told the scientist. Dr. Wallaby had graciously included a letter of his own to her sister and brother-in-law, informing them that Roman Montana was highly capable of taking care of her while she traveled and that they need not worry.

  Theodosia sighed. “Ordinarily I am not given to such prevarication,” she murmured to her parrot. “But my situation demands a few falsities, John the Baptist. And when all is said and done and I have the child for Upton and Lillian, the untruths I have told will have little significance.”

  The bird spat a stream of water. It sprayed over a mass of bluebonnets that grew at the edge of the road. “Impotence is a malady that distresses a great many men. Awk!”

  “Yes, it is distressing,” Theodosia agreed, picking up the reins again. “As is the fact that I must now begin an intense search for a new candidate to sire the child.”

  Soon she turned the buckboard onto the main street of Wild Winds, a town she’d chosen because it was the only one she’d heard of in this area. Roman had mentioned it, and she’d gotten directions from a store owner in Templeton.

  Roman. She wondered where he was, what he was doing.

  “Theodosia,” she scolded herself, “you will concentrate on your own activities and cease dwelling on a man you will never see again.” But even as she made the vow, she knew she could not keep it.

  Roman Montana had given her her first sweet taste of desire. And although she would always remain ignorant of the fulfillment to be gotten from such passion, she’d keep the memory of his kiss and embrace alive forever. In times of solitude, she would ponder it and remember.

  She scanned the dusty street and spotted a small library on the left. Its presence assured her that learned people dwelled in the town. Perhaps one of the educated men would fit the physical requirements she’d set for the father of the child. The possibility revived her sagging spirits.

  She registered at the Wild Winds hotel and paid two male employees to see to her horse and wagon and carry her belongings to her room, which did not meet with her approval. A small room, it was filled with lots of dust and little furniture. Still, it was a place in which she could carry out her plans.

  When the men were gone, she quickly changed into a blue-and-white-striped silk dress, donned her bonnet and gloves, and set forth for the town’s newspaper office.

  A cluster of bells jingled when she opened the door to the Wild Winds newspaper office.

  “Can I hep ya, ma’am?” the man behind the scarred old counter offered. “Name’s Hamm. Simon Hamm. New in town, ain’tcha?” With ink-stained fingers, he picked up a fried chicken leg from his plate of lunch and took a huge bite. Grease glossed his thin lips, and bits of golden crust dropped into his short white beard.

  Theodosia wondered if the man had ever heard of a napkin. She placed her reticule on the counter and gave a stiff nod. “Yes, you may help me, Mr. Hamm.”

  He raised his pale eyebrows. “You from England?”

  “Boston. Would you be good enough to print a hundred circulars for me?”

  “Would I be good enough?” Mr. Hamm pointed his chicken leg at her. “Ma’am, I’m jest about as good as they come. Why, jest last week I stayed up till near ’bout three in the mornin’ with Fudd Wilkins. Fudd’s dog died, y’see, and Fudd? Well, Fudd couldn’t stop cryin’ fer nothin’. Ain’t a purty sight, ma’am, seein’ a grown man cry, but Fudd loved that ole mongrel more’n he loves his wife.”

  He paused a moment to take another bite of chicken. “Was a good dog, to tell ya the truth. Name was Fudd Junior. Weren’t a dog in this county who could tree a ’coon like ole Fudd Junior. Fudd had ’coon stew ever’ Thursday, and I mean to tell you, Fudd can cook up some kind o’ ’coon stew. His wife don’t never cook a’tall. Lazy s’what she is. Y’ain’t travelin’ alone, are ya, ma’am? Best be careful if you are, on account o’ the Blanco y Negro Gang’s on the loose again. Busted out o’ jail the way I heared it tole, and some say only the power o’ God can strike ’em dead.”

  Theodosia studied him, thinking that perhaps the lies she’d told to Dr. Wallaby and written to Lillian and Upton wouldn’t be falsehoods at all. The man’s long story reinforced her desire to understand the reasons behind such rambling.

  But first things first. Quickly, she t
ook a sheet of paper and a pencil from a box on the counter and jotted down the message for the fliers. “Here is the wording I would like on the circulars,” she said, and slid the piece of paper toward him.

  With each word Mr. Hamm read, his eyes grew bigger and his mouth opened wider. “You—I—this —ma’am, are you sure—”

  “Quite. I will wait while you print them.”

  He read the wording once more. “Ma’am, this ain’t none o’ my business, but—”

  “I am in a great hurry to post the circulars, sir.” She slid two gold coins across the counter. “Please make haste.”

  He shook his head in resignation. “All right, ma’am, but I sure hope ya know what you’re gittin’ yoursef into.”

  In the dim hallway of the hotel, a dozen men stood outside the door of Theodosia’s room. Clutched in their hands were the circulars they’d come to answer:

  WANTED

  A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and extremely intelligent man to sire a child. Wiling to pay $100 in gold for services. No marriage to woman demanded, and all fatherly obligations to resulting child will be waived.

  Men meeting requirements

  please contact:

  Miss Theodosia Worth

  Wild Winds Hotel

  Room Seven

  Only the qualified need apply for interview.

  “Miz Worth!” one of the men shouted, and knocked on the door. “You in there?”

  The second Theodosia opened the door, the men’s revolting odor turned her stomach. Several were short, some had blond hair, a few had green eyes, and one had a bulbous nose that was a direct contrast to Upton’s long straight one.

  She gave them a polite but reserved smile. “Thank you for responding to my advertisement, gentleman. I’m afraid, however, that none of you meet the requirements I have set. Good day.”

  A booted foot kept her from closing the door. “I’m yer man, lady,” the owner of the foot announced. “When it comes to beddin’ women, there ain’t no requirement I cain’t meet. Now, lemme in!”

  “You ain’t her man!” another of the applicants argued. “I am!”

  The other men voiced similar declarations, and before Theodosia had time to realize what was happening, a fistfight began in the corridor. She seized the opportunity to slam and bolt the door.

  The men in the hall began to bang on it, shouting curses that colored Theodosia’s cheeks. She managed to move the dresser in front of the door, but only when she heard the hotel manager and his two male assistants escort the men away did she feel a small measure of safety.

  “I cannot comprehend why those men thought to answer my advertisement in the first place, John the Baptist.”

  The parrot blinked one black eye. “I would like to conceive a male baby for Upton and Lillian,” he said, then blinked his other eye. “When it comes to beddin’ women, there ain’t no requirement I cain’t meet.”

  “I specified quite clearly that I was seeking intelligent candidates,” Theodosia continued. “And did you hear their grammar? And their behavior—why, if not for their brawl, I might have been—”

  She shuddered to think what might have happened, but she knew precisely what she would do to prevent the possibility from ever arising again.

  Another circular was in order, and she had not a second to waste in having it printed and posted.

  As Roman walked into the Wild Winds general store, the scents of dried apples, stale cigar smoke, leather, and sour pickles drifted around him. A fat calico cat, curled up in a pool of sunshine on the wooden floor, licked its front paw while keeping a sharp eye on a cricket that chirped on the windowsill. Roman scratched the cat’s ears, then ambled to the counter and waited for the shopkeeper to finish stacking cans of food on the sagging shelves.

  “Roman Montana!” Arlo exclaimed as he turned from the shelves. “Ain’t seen you ‘round here in almost two months. Not since you rebuilded ole man Bodine’s barn. Lord o’ mercy, Ben Bodine’s s’damned proud o’ that barn that he’s tuk to sleepin’ in it. Where you been?”

  Roman withdrew a silky gold ribbon from a basket that sat on the counter. Twisting it between his fingers, he thought about golden hair. The ribbon was soft; Theodosia’s hair was softer.

  He threw the ribbon back into the basket. “I’ve been around, working wherever there’s work.” He dug into his pocket and withdrew a thin roll of bills. “Put this in my account for me, will you, Arlo?”

  Arlo took the money, counted it, and then made some quick calculations in his ledger. “Let’s see. This money added up with what you’ve already got here…that’s a grand total of forty-two dollars and eighty-six cents, Roman. Buildin’ yourself a right nice little nest egg.”

  Nice wasn’t enough, Roman mused, deep frustration coiling inside him. Not counting the money he lacked toward the purchase of the land, he still needed money for the horses. In his head, he tried to add up how much money he had all together. Besides the money he had here in Wild Winds, he also had money saved up in seven other towns.

  But adding eight figures in his head at once proved too difficult. He’d add them later, when he had paper and pencil. If he had a fair sum, he’d collect all the money and travel back to Templeton to make another payment to Senor Madrigal.

  “You workin’ ’round here, Roman?” Arlo asked as he ran a dust rag over a jar of multicolored jawbreakers.

  Roman leaned one slim hip against the counter. “Just finished a job for Oris Brown, but I’m looking for something else. Know of anything?”

  Arlo scratched his neck. “Well, there’s Ralph Onslow. You know Ralph. He’s got that little boot shop down the street. Seems I heard he was lookin’ for somebody to go to Teak’s River and fetch him a new supply o’ leather. Wadja do for Oris?”

  “Broke a horse for him,” Roman answered, tugging at his neckcloth. “The last time I was in town, he asked me about it. I got to his place late yesterday afternoon and started. He put me up for the night, and I finished working his horse this morning.”

  “That fast,” Arlo murmured.

  Roman shrugged. He’d never understood why it took some men so long to gentle a horse. As far as he was concerned, the only secret to it was winning the animal’s trust. And it was a hell of a lot easier to win a horse’s trust than a person’s.

  The thought brought to mind Theodosia and her faith in him. For one short moment, he allowed himself to wonder if she was all right.

  Arlo waved his hands in front of Roman’s eyes. “Roman? Did y’hear what I jest said? There’s somethin’ else you might want to do to earn a little cash,” he repeated, and chuckled. “Go read the poster that’s hangin’ over that table o’ fabrics.”

  Curious as to what it was about the circular that so amused Arlo, Roman sauntered across the store and glanced at the flier.

  The name Theodosia Worth fairly jumped out at him. He pulled the paper off the wall and scanned the wording.

  Shock nearly knocked him off his feet. He couldn’t believe the woman would go this far!

  And then amusement made him smile. The woman had gone this far because she didn’t have a lick of common sense to tell her not to.

  Apparently, Theodosia’s passionate night with Dr. Wallaby had gone awry. Maybe the scientist’s brain was the only thing he had that was still in working order. “Arlo, when did you post this?”

  “’Bout noon. That Worth woman come in here askin’ if she could put it up. Ain’t that somethin’? You ever heared o’ any woman stupid enough to actually make up a want ad for a lover? When she first come in here, I thought she was real smart. Dressed real good, talked with one o’ them London, England accents, and used a lot o’ big words. But for all her fancy talk, she ain’t got no sense. She—” A loud burst of laughter outside the store cut him short. “Well, what in the world? Let’s go see what’s goin’ on, Roman.”

  Outside, he and Roman saw a group of men standing on the boardwalk in front of the cafe. A few were pointing to a sheet of paper stuck t
o the window, and all were nearly doubled over with laughter.

  “Arlo, come see what that crazy woman done this time!” one man called. “Simon Hamm over there at the newspaper office just posted this up for her!”

  The second Arlo read the flier, his laughter joined that of the other men.

  But no one laughed as hard as Roman. His shoulders shaking with mirth, he looked at the circular once more and read:

  WANTED IMMEDIATELY

  A bodyguard to protect young woman from unscrupulous lechers. Willing to pay $100 in gold every month until services no longer needed. Contact:

  Miss Theodosia Worth

  Wild Winds Hotel

  Room Seven

  Would someone please apply?

  He reread her first flier, which he still held. Only Theodosia Worth, an empty-headed genius, could have gotten herself into such a fix.

  Still, he mused while rubbing his chin, her ridiculous predicament meant one hundred dollars in gold to the man she hired as her bodyguard.

  He smiled.

  His horse ranch had never seemed so close to being owned.

  Theodosia felt far too anxious to eat the supper she’d ordered brought to her room. Wasn’t anyone going to answer her second advertisement? Surely Mr. Hamm had posted the fliers by now.

  A loud knock on the door laid to rest her worry. “Well, it is about time, isn’t it, John the Baptist? I was beginning to think that there existed not a single man in this town who held the qualifications for a bodyguard.”

  She smoothed her peach silk skirts and opened the door. In the dim corridor, his guns gleaming faintly, stood a huge man. “Have you come to apply for the position, sir?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stepped aside so he could enter. As soon as he did, she drew away from him and struggled with disgust. The man’s teeth had rotted nearly into his tobacco-stained gums, grime filled the pockmarks on his cheeks, and his hair was so greasy, it looked as though he’d combed it with a block of butter.