Jack closed the bottom of the stall door, leaving the top half open for Seawind to stick his head out and enjoy the sun and fresh air. He thought he should take a walk down to the bottling plant and check on things.
He prayed that loyal old Uncle Max, who had a penchant for Canfield's Casino, was handling the business properly, but it wouldn't hurt to check.
A great sadness fell over Jack as he thought of his mother sitting alone in a dark corner of the parlor of the huge house on Union Street. Agatha Wheeler, once the leading lady of Saratoga society, spent her days rocking in that corner, lost in thought. She refused to leave the house, afraid she might be slighted by one of the matrons. Afraid of a giggle or finger pointed in her direction as she walked by. Afraid of being shunned by a so-called friend who had once tried to win her favor.
Anger replaced sadness as he remembered how he had felt when he read in the Saratoga Daily Sentinel that Wheeler Mineral Water was falling on hard times due to George Wheeler's incarceration.
He hadn't known about his father's trial nor that he was serving time at Auburn Prison. Again it bothered him that his mother hadn't his mother contacted him. He would have returned home immediately to help. He could have found the real guilty party or would have died trying.
Now John "Jack" Wheeler, masquerading as Jack Summers with a beard and moustache, hoped with all his heart that it wouldn't be too late, and that he could clear his father's name.
Racing season at the Springs was his father's whole life, yet he rarely placed a bet. "Just like to watch the beautiful animals, son," he would always say. "Those thoroughbred horses are beauty in motion."
Jack knew that his father would never intentionally hurt a horse. Not ever.
As he walked from stall-to-stall tending the other race horses in Peterson's stable, Jack resolved anew to vindicate his father and make sure Bond Peterson paid for his lies.
He pulled the invitation to dine with the Petersons out of his back pocket and read it again. His plan was falling into place, and tonight he'd begin to charm Sara Peterson.
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THE LADY AND THE COWBOY
NEWYORKCITY
MAY l880
“A letter for you from Wyoming, Miss Trask.” The gray-haired postman handed her a white envelope. Caroline’s heart lifted when she saw her father’s big, bold handwriting.
She took a deep breath and opened the envelope carefully. The letters from her father brightened her lonely days. He would tell of the latest calf or foal being born. He would tell funny stories about the cowboys who worked the ranch. Maybe, just maybe, this letter would say that she could come home. How she wished.
In every letter she wrote to her father, Caroline begged him to let her come home to Wyoming Territory. To their ranch, the Lazy Circle T. Right after her mother died, her father had sold some cattle. He used the money to send Caroline to boarding school in New York City.
Her parents had come to Wyoming from New York years before. When she turned l7, the headmistress found Caroline employment at the home of Lewis and Mary Foxworth. She was the governess to the two Foxworth children.
It had been seven years now that she had been away from the Lazy Circle T. Seven long years. Though she begged her father to let her come home, he always gave the same reason why she couldn’t, He was afraid the hard life would kill her as it did her mother. He always said that in his letters.
With a sad smile, Caroline carefully unfolded the new letter and read:
My dearest daughter Caroline,
Your last letter was a comfort to me. But I can’t change my mind. I know you want to come home, but New York City has so much to offer you. Wyoming is a harsh land. Your mother died because of this land, and I don’t want that to happen to you.
I lost a lot of cattle this past winter, and the ranch needs a lot of work. This year will not be an easy one. It’s not a fit place for a lady like you are now. It wasn’t fit for you: mother. It’s a place for cowboys, not ladies.
There is some good news. During spring roundup, there were more calves than usual. I’m hoping that when the little critters grow up they’ll bring a good price.
My beautiful daughter, in this envelope is some money for you. It’s never as much as I would like to send, but buy yourself a pretty dress or whatever else you need.
I almost forgot. Your horse, Rosebud, had a fine colt last week. We are calling him Buddy.
Old Doctor Bites stopped by when I was writing this letter, and he sends you his best. He said he’d mail this letter for me when he goes to town.
All my love, Your father,
Carl Trask
Tears streamed down Caroline’s face as she read the letter again and again. Something was wrong.
Caroline was 11 years old when he sent her away, but she could ride and rope as well as the best cowboys. Her father had taught her how to shoot a gun, too. He joked that she’d be able to shoot the eye out of a rattlesnake 20 feet away, They’d been so happy together.
Then her mother died, and she was sent away.
Caroline looked down at her light blue satin dress with the ruffled sleeves. She felt the dark blue satin bow at her neck that kept her hat in place. She didn’t care about these fancy things. She longed to be back in Wyoming, wearing her brown split skirt and riding her horse, Rosebud, She longed to see the new colt Buddy, too.
She wondered how many cattle had died during the winter. It had to be a lot, because her father sounded worried. The money he sent was less than usual.
Caroline read again the part about the doctor stopping by. She knew without a doubt that her father must be sick. Her father would never let a doctor get within a foot of him. He was sick, or Doc Bite would never have been at the ranch.
She had to know what was wrong, and she couldn’t wait for another letter.
“I must leave right away,” she said, putting the letter back into the envelope. “Right now. I have to go to him.”
#
Caroline stood and hurried toward the Foxworth home to pack and to announce her departure. It was a huge house—the Foxworths were very rich. She was well taken care of—in fact, she lived like a lady, as her father said.
But all she wanted—all she’d ever wanted—was to go home and be with her father on the ranch.
She had saved some money over the years, money that her father had sent her. She hardly spent any of it. She saved most of her governess stipend, too. With the money her father had just sent, she had enough at last.
Caroline packed some traveling dresses and a few items she would want in Wyoming. Then she slipped her father’s last letter under the blue ribbon that held together all the letters he sent over the years. She carefully put the bundle into her carpetbag.
She took a last look around at her room. It was beautiful, but she never felt at home in it as she did at the Lazy Circle T with its colorful Indian blankets and its walls made out of logs.
Caroline took a last look out of the window. She had made many wishes on many stars from that window. All the wishes were to return home.
New York City couldn’t compare to the rugged mountains, the open spaces, the deep blue sky, and the sight of cattle grazing on long grass
Wyoming
She was going home at last!
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Stuck On You Page 18
