Fate's Intervention

by Barbara Woster

  “Well, don’t you think that perhaps he should tell you when he’s ready? Perhaps he doesn’t want to worry you.”

  “So, you’re saying I should be worried.”

  “I’m saying you need to be discussing this with your father.”

  “And I just told you that he won’t tell me anything, so either you can or I’ll simply sleep on your doorstep until you do.”

  “Well, now, we can’t have that, can we?”

  “It would be rather uncomfortable, but you know I mean it.”

  “You are as stubborn today as you were when I delivered you. You wanted to stay sleeping in your mother’s womb. Seems to be a stubborn trait from birth.”

  “I guess it is at that.”

  Peter felt a heavy weight descend on his heart. She knew! He’d hoped to spare her the knowledge, so that she could continue living her happy, carefree existence until the day of his death. He didn’t want her sad, like she had been so obviously this past week. His death would be soon enough for her to grieve over his loss. Until that time, however, he wanted things to go on as before – okay, maybe not the trial of finding her a husband. He’d rather be planning a wedding. Still, he missed her smile.

  “Because of your very demeanor right now dearest,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to spare your knowing.”

  “But you’re my father! I have a right to know!”

  “It’s my life, dearest, and I have a right to reveal information concerning its imminent end to whomever I choose. As to your rights, you have none. It’s simply not your life to demand rights to.”

  “How can you be so selfish?”

  “On the contrary, it was selflessness that convinced me not to tell you.”

  Marcelle merely snorted and returned her gaze to the view outside. Peter smiled. That was the girl he knew, full of spunk. Well, if he had to provoke her into a senseless argument that he didn’t feel like having, just to see her eyes sparkle and see the color return to her cheeks, then so be it.

  “I do love you, you know,” he said impetuously. He snickered when his daughter shot a concerned gaze back in his direction. “No dear, I’m not dying this moment. My deathbed is not the only time, you know, where I can show affection for you.”

  Marcelle’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. If he wasn’t dying, then why tell her he loved her. He never did so before. It only lent credence to the doctor’s prognosis.

  “I was merely trying to explain in as few words as possible the reasons behind my not telling you.”

  “Oh, well, I wish I could say it makes me feel better, but the thought of losing you – actually losing you,” she emphasized, “is tearing me apart.”

  “Oh, dear child,” he sighed, “do you really think it makes me happy to know that I’ll be leaving you? Well, it doesn’t. In fact, it’s eating away at me. But I don’t want that, do you hear?” Peter was suddenly angry with the fates for cutting his life with his daughter short. “I don’t want for your sadness to be added to my own. That will only eat away at me faster – if that makes any sense. What I do want, is for the last months that we have together to reflect happier times, so that when I do finally go, it will be with the memory of your beautiful smile. Can you do that for me?”

  “I don’t honestly know, Father, whether I can smile when you’re dying. It just doesn’t seem right, somehow.”

  “Then fake it!”

  “Father!” Marcelle gasped.

  “You heard me,” Peter said sharply. “I said to fake it, and I mean just that. If a fake smile is all you can give, then I’ll take it, do you hear? It’s better than the sour puss face I’ve dealt with for these past few days!”

  “You can be insufferable sometimes; you know that? First you tell me I don’t have the right to know, and now you are fairly demanding that I behave conversely to my actual feelings,” Marcelle said.

  “Maybe I am, but I simply can’t handle the pressure of my illness and your sadness,” Peter said softly. “I know it isn’t fair, but promise to try to maintain a happy front for your old man. I need your laughter to sustain what time I have left.”

  “It isn’t fair, but I’ll try,” Marcelle conceded finally. “I don’t want to lose you any faster than I’m going to already.”

  “Good. Now, chin up,” Peter said, shifting to a straighter position in the seat. “I don’t want you milling about acting as if my funeral will be tomorrow. We’ll make our remaining time together full of joy and laughter.”

  “Then can we forget finding a husband?”

  Peter did laugh then, “No,” he said simply, patting his daughter’s knee. “That’s still a high priority.”

  “Splendid,” Marcelle muttered under her breath, but her mood did feel lighter than it had in recent days. Perhaps if she carried on as before, it would boost her father’s health – or send him to an early grave. She smiled grimly.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Matthew, rein in,” Stanharbor said. “I’d like you to ride with me for a short spell. Have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Yes, Mr. Stanharbor,” Matthew said. He pulled on White Star’s reins and guided the stallion toward Adam. “Can you hold his reins until I mount back up, Adam?”

  “That horse ain’t going to be yanking me from atop my seat, is he?”

  “Hardly. He’s as tame as a kitten, now that his training is complete.”

  “Kitten, huh? Well, I’ve seen kittens sprout sharp claws and start spitting something awful when spooked.”

  “Then I suggest you don’t let anything spook White Star because he may react the same way,” Matthew said, smiling.

  “Great. His hoofs start sprouting claws and I’ll shoot the devil.”

  Matthew laughed. He patted White Star’s muzzle, then turned the reins over to Adam. “Behave for Adam, will ya, boy?”

  The horse whinnied in reply, bobbing his head.

  “That better mean yes,” Adam grumbled.

  Matthew alighted as Adam pulled the carriage slowly to a crawl. “You sound as if you’re afraid of horses, Adam, but you drive a team of them nearly every day,” Matthew observed, walking beside the carriage a moment more.

  “You want tame? These six beasts are tame ‘cause they so old that they about ready for the glue factory. Ain’t nothing can spook ‘em ‘cause they already be half blind and mostly deaf. That beast you be riding on be a whole other matter. He be the biggest doggone creature I ever done seen and nothing that big can possibly be easy to control.”

  “I’ve been doing okay, or haven’t you been watching?” Matthew countered, trying not to laugh at his friend’s discomfiture.

  “You just plain lucky is all. I’m telling you, it’s just a matter of time before that monster unseats you and then sits on you.”

  “Are you coming, Matthew?” Stanharbor said, leaning out the window. “I need you to help Elizabeth alight and mount her own horse.”

  Matthew shuddered at the thought of touching the girl, but he wouldn’t be able to refuse without appearing to lack chivalry.

  “Yes, Mr. Stanharbor,” He said, opening the door. “Would you like Adam to stop altogether?”

  “No, I’m sure Elizabeth can manage with your help. We’re barely moving, after all.”

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Matthew said. When she appeared in the doorway, he extended a hand and tried not to react when she placed her hand in his. She blushed and made to step down, but her foot caught in her skirt and she tumbled straight into his arms. He had no choice but to catch her, but he did have a choice about how long she remained in his embrace. He set her aside with alacrity, moving away just as quickly.

  The stable hand, seeing his mistress alight, trotted over, leading Elizabeth’s mare behind.

  “Will you see Miss Elizabeth mounted, Aaron?” Matthew asked. He could not bear the thought of touching her again. He’d seen in her eyes that the little imbalanced tripping maneuver was an act to get him to hold her and didn’t doubt she would tumble over the top
of the horse if it meant him holding her again.

  “I’d rather you assisted me.”

  “I’ve kept your father waiting long enough, Miss,” Matthew interrupted. “Aaron?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Matthew turned away before Elizabeth could protest further, trotting along to the carriage, still moving along slowly. He pulled himself aboard and settled on to the seat opposite his boss. Even in the roomy interior, Stanharbor’s bulk was suffocating, and Matthew hoped the conversation would be a short one.

  “Why isn’t your daughter riding with us, sir?” Matthew asked politely. In reality, he was relieved that she’d decided to ride her mount, for his feeling of suffocation would increase were he forced to ride with both Stanharbors. Still, if she tattled on him, wouldn’t she want to remain present to see him properly chastised for it?

  “She’ll ride her mare for a bit while I have a chat with you, then she can join me again if she chooses.”

  Matthew hoped it wasn’t the talk he thought it was going to be. He may not be fond of his boss and the boss’s daughter, but he was very fond of employment, and of Wyoming. He certainly didn’t want Stanharbor to force him from either as had happened in the past because he hurt some snot-nosed brat’s feelings.

  “First, I wanted you to know that you’ve done a fine job this past month,” Stanharbor began, and Matthew relaxed a bit.

  “I enjoy the work, sir.”

  “Glad to hear it. You’ve got some good training skills and I can’t wait to put them to the test.”

  “Thank you, sir. I look forward to the challenge.”

  “Well, you’ll more than earn your wages.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My main concern today is to purchase ten mounts for my customers – without spending too much money.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Good, then I’ll leave it to you to find what I need. Think you can manage?”

  “How many horses are usually up for sale at these auctions?”

  “Fifty or so.”

  “Hmm. Out of fifty horses, I’m not sure I can find ten of high quality. Three or four maybe. It’s too bad that we couldn’t have kept White Star. He would have brought a good price from a buyer.”

  “Not as good as I’ll get from this auction. As for quality, the lower the better. We can train them a bit and bring up their value slightly. The amount my client’s pay isn’t worth the price of quality horseflesh.”

  “Surely they’d be willing to pay out a little more if you offered them something better?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to put out the initial cash, so just bring me ten horses under two hundred each, and we’ll call it a day.”

  Matthew winced, but wisely kept his tongue. Two hundred would get the purchaser a horse within a few months of a glue factory. Is that how he got his repeat business, Matthew wondered, by knowingly selling inferior mounts, thereby forcing the purchaser to buy more mounts repeatedly.

  “Can I ask a question, sir?” Matthew asked.

  “Certainly.”

  “If all you are interested in is cheap horseflesh, how in the name of the sun and stars did you manage to obtain a horse like White Star?”

  “Lucky break.”

  “Sir?”

  “The military got him from a local Indian tribe that they were consigning to a reservation.”

  Matthew grimaced, “And you got him from the military for pennies on the dollar, right?”

  “More like dimes, but still and all it was a very advantageous purchase, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, sir. Did you need me for anything else?” Matthew hoped he didn’t. The more he spent in Stanharbor’s company, the less pleasant the fellow became.

  Stanharbor didn’t answer him immediately and Matthew tensed. There was something in his boss’s demeanor that said more was coming and he’d like it even less than the horse discussion.

  “Well, actually,” Stanharbor said finally, straightening his cravat, “There is another matter that we need to discuss before you go.”

  Uh oh, here it comes, Matthew thought. I wonder if he’ll wait to fire me until after I acquire his mounts.

  “What’s that, sir?” Matthew asked cautiously.

  “Well, I guess what I want to know is – what do you think of my daughter?” Stanharbor asked suddenly.

  Matthew’s tension returned in spades. It’s just a question, he told himself, as he drew in deep, calming breaths. Don’t think anything of it and relax.

  “Begging your pardon, sir?” Matthew asked.

  “Simple enough question, son.”

  Matthew shot a glance out the window in Elizabeth’s direction, but she wasn’t paying him any attention. That, in itself, was suspicious, since she’d not taken her eyes off him since their last conversation. Anywhere he went, she wasn’t far behind. Like this auction. Adam said that she never bothered making the trip – until now. Until he arrived.

  “So, have you an answer for me?” Stanharbor asked.

  “Umm,” Matthew stumbled, trying to find an appropriately neutral answer, “I haven’t really noticed her all that much, sir, but I don’t doubt that she’s a lovely young girl.”

  “Hmm,” Stanharbor rubbed his chin, “She’s taken a notice to you. You aware of that?”

  “I try not to be aware of young girls at all, sir.”

  “Really? Me personally, the young ones are the only type that catches my eye. Prefer them that way. The younger they are, the easier they are to train – if you know what I mean.”

  “Not really, sir.”

  “Oh, well, never mind, so you have nothing to say about. . . .”

  “I’d like to explain about what went on a couple of weeks ago, if I may sir,” Matthew interrupted, but Stanharbor raised a hand to silence him.

  “No need, son. Elizabeth already did.”

  Oh, I bet she did, Matthew grimaced, certain that her version of what happened was less than accurate.

  Stanharbor leaned forward slightly, which was all he could manage because of his size. He pierced Matthew with a look that Matthew could only describe as intimidating. To anyone other than Matthew, it probably would have been. He liked his job, but no man was going to force him into doing something he didn’t want, and the impression he got from Stanharbor was that he was trying to do just that. His next words confirmed it.

  “I want you to consider marrying her.”

  “Now wait just a minute!” Matthew said. “I never touched her like that, no matter what she said. You can have her examined by a physician, if you doubt my word. Tarnation! She kissed me, and the minute she did, I sent her straight home. So, I’ll be damned if you or anyone else is going to force me into a shotgun wedding.”

  Stanharbor leaned back, a grin on his lips, “Who said anything about a shotgun? All I said was that I’d like you to consider the possibility. Would appear though, that she’s sweeter on you than she even let on, and more of a tart than I took her for. Kissed ya, huh?”

  “Wasn’t exactly a kiss, so much as it was an effort to get my attention.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not like you’re thinking, it didn’t.”

  “So you said,” Stanharbor smiled. “Well, the plain truth is, you’ve caught my only daughter’s eye, young man. She came to me last week and fairly begged me to give you to her.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Stanharbor said, “kind of took me by surprise as well. Never thought I reared a loose woman. If you don’t marry her, it may not be too much longer before her curiosity about the opposite sex gets the better of her. If she defiles herself, she’ll ruin her chances of finding a suitable mate. I can’t make a match for a soiled tart.”

  “And you consider me a suitable match? A penniless working stiff.”

  “I admit I don’t know you well, but you seem to me to be a man of upstanding moral virtue.”

  “Then I’d say you don’t know me at all,” Matthew
said, hoping to dissuade further conversation about marriage. It didn’t work.

  “Well, perhaps. Still and all, it would seem that I’ve overindulged Elizabeth, being my only daughter and all; given her everything she wanted when she wanted it, and now she wants you; so she expects me to give you to her. So, if you don’t happen to be a moral man, perhaps a little incentive would work to make you one.”

  “You are aware of how absurd this conversation is.”

  “I’d agree, if I wasn’t completely in earnest.”

  “Well, in that case, I hope you told her that she couldn’t just acquire a husband the way you do a horse.”

  “On the contrary, young man,” Stanharbor argued, “I think you can do just that – for the right price. Which is why I want to know what your price would be for marrying my baby girl? If she’s taken with you, as is apparent to both of us, then I’ll do what I can to see her happily wed to you.”

  Matthew was finding it difficult to breath. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him again. What was it about him that made pubescent girls want to dive into bed with him – or worse, marry him? While he knew his looks were easy on the eye, he didn’t think it drove girls to insanity when they hit puberty. At least not until today.

  First the accusations by the young girl in Georgia that got him fired, then Louisiana, then West Virginia, Arkansas, Texas, and now the attention of an insane little twit here in Wyoming was going to force him to quit. He’d never be able to seek employment with a household that had young women in it again.

  “Well, in that case, sir, I’ll make it simple for you. I quit.”

  “Now, hold on there, son.” Stanharbor said, “I didn’t mean for you to up and quit. Now rescind that. I need you to keep on working for me.”

  “I apologize, sir, but I won’t marry your daughter, and since she’s got her sights set on doing just that, I figure it best to remove myself from those sights.”

  “But you haven’t even heard my incentive yet. She’s got a hefty dowry, son. I’d even be willing to toss in a plot of land and help you build you a nice little house. I might even consider throwing that stallion I let you ride in on today into the mix. I know how much you’ve taken to it since you finished training it last week. It’s a good offer, so why not give it some thought, and then decide?”