“I never held her responsible for Ira.”
“You don’t have to. She’s done it herself.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me, you big oaf. Whose shoulder do you think she’s been crying on? It’s not that widow woman who sings and dances for her uncle. She’s got her eye on you herself. And that doesn’t leave much of anybody except Jessica Burton, and not even a sainted martyr could expect any sympathy from her.”
“All I wanted to do was prove I wasn’t lying.”
“And you had to do it within hours after I told you not to do anything or you’d wreck things entirely.”
“I didn’t plan it. It just happened.”
“Good generals never let things happen. They make them happen. And you know that because until you saw Ira with his rope around that steer, you were just about the best general I’d ever seen, with cows, with men, and with Eliza. But you let yourself get unraveled real bad. I don’t know if you’ll ever get Eliza back now.”
Cord stood staring in front of him for a long moment. “Then I guess there’s nothing I can do.”
“Maybe not, but getting drunk won’t help things.” Cord looked up inquiringly. “You don’t have to tell me you’ve been drinking. I can smell it. That’s a road that will lead to nothing but ruin. Time may heal this thing between you and Eliza or it may not, but if you give yourself over to drink she’ll never have you.”
Ella felt her heart go out to Cord. She had never been a romantic herself. She and Ed had lived together comfortably for thirty years, always talking through their differences and encountering few problems. Maybe now and then she had wondered what it would have been like to be madly in love, but after seeing what it had done to Cord and Eliza she was just as happy she had been passed over. She might never know the bliss of love that surmounted reason, but at least she would never suffer the agonies that were making two of her favorite people utterly miserable.
“You can’t wait much longer to get married, or you’ll be an old maid,” Ira said to Eliza through a mouthful of steak. “You might as well marry Croley.”
“Mr. Blaine?” Eliza repeated, her voice jumping an octave. “He never knows I’m around unless I’m singing.”
“Croley notices everything you do,” Ira said, putting anther fork load of food in his mouth. “He talks about you all the time. In fact, he’s gotten to be something of a bore.”
Eliza hardly knew what to say. She knew her uncle stood in awe of Croley. It would be comfortable for him to have her marry his business partner, but she didn’t like Croley, and now that she was certain he was responsible for Ira’s involvement with the rustlers, she didn’t trust him either.
Neither had mentioned what had happened that night, Eliza because she hated to think of being involved in such a shameful deed, and Ira because Croley, in a savage rage over the failure of his elaborately planned operation, had ordered him to keep his mouth shut.
“I don’t want to marry anybody. I think I’ll dedicate myself to teaching school.”
“You can marry Croley and teach all you want,” Ira said, still eating. “Croley is going to be a rich man.” Ira wiped his mouth and backed away from the table. “You could find yourself married to much worse.”
“No, I couldn’t,” exploded Eliza. “I will not marry a rustler, even if my uncle is one.” At last it was out, she had said it, and she felt as though a great weight was off her heart.
“You watch what you’re saying,” Ira growled.
“I saw you,” Eliza said, her eyes flashing angrily. “I was forced to watch you brand cows with a brand registered in my name.”
“Oh, well-”
“Do you know why I hide in this room day after day? It’s because I’m ashamed to appear in public knowing my only relative is a common thief. It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it.”
“It didn’t make you so sick of Cord Stedman you didn’t go with him.”
“I will not be accused of duplicity, and especially not by you,” Eliza said furiously.
“Never mind. I believe you,” Ira said, backing down.
Ira had lost control of Eliza. She was so volatile he was afraid the slightest thing would cause her to refuse to sing at all. She’d insisted that someone watch the door, and the only time Cord had appeared she’d fled in the middle of her song and locked herself in her room.
“You still in love with Stedman?”
“You know I haven’t seen him since that night.”
“I thought you might still be pining over him. You sure do act lovesick.”
“I’m acting mortified,” Eliza practically shouted. “I’m ashamed to have been so mistaken in his character I would consider becoming engaged to him. I’m also chagrined to be the niece of a man of still fewer principles. I imagine people are saying Cord’s exactly the kind of husband for a silly, spineless fool like me.”
“Then marry Croley and put an end to this foolishness.”
“Marry the man who tried to rustle my previous fiancé’s cows? That ought to set tongues in Buffalo wagging for a good year. Let him marry Iris.”
“He doesn’t want her. He wants you.”
“Well, he can’t have me,” Eliza said defiantly. “I didn’t give up Cord to marry a rustier.” Try as she might Eliza could not keep the tears from her eyes.
“You are still in love with him,” Ira said triumphantly. “I knew it.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Eliza accused. “You never have. All you ever think of is how much money I can make. You don’t care a button whether I’m happy or miserable as long as the customers keep coming.”
“I’m trying to find you a husband.”
“Do you really think I could settle for Croley Blaine after Cord?” A sob caught in her throat. “Even Iris ignores Croley, but she can’t keep her hands off Cord.”
“Let Iris have him, but don’t you speak to him again.”
“You’ve forfeited the right to tell me what to do, ever again,” Eliza said. “You forced me to deny the only man I’ve ever loved, and all you can offer in his place is Croley Blaine.”
“I’ll have the bastard shot, then you won’t be able to pine after him,” Ira threatened.
“You do and you’ll never see me again.”
“And where do you think you’ll go?”
“If Cord were dead, it wouldn’t matter.”
Eliza sighed disconsolately and moved to another chair. She tried to concentrate on her needlework, but she kept making mistakes and having to pull it out. Finally she threw the embroidery frame from her and began to pace the room.
“I don’t think I can stand this much longer,” she said to Lucy, who watched her from across the room. “I feel like I’m suffocating.”
“There’s nobody keeping you here but yourself. I certainly didn’t tell you to lock yourself in tighter than a steamer trunk.”
“I’m not being locked in. Cord’s being locked out.”
“I can’t see it makes any difference. You’re still the one sitting in this room.”
“Well, I’m tired of it. And I’m tired of being scared to death I’ll run into Cord or that he’ll come barging in here and carry me off again.”
“You could go East with me. You wouldn’t have to worry about Cord, and you’d be a big star.”
“I doubt it. I’m more likely to stay here and be forced to marry someone like Mr. Blaine.”
“Then you’d have reason to lock yourself in. What you need is a hero to rescue you.”
“My hero is the reason I’m in trouble. Please, Lucy, what am I going to do?”
“I keep telling you, but you won’t listen. Go sing back East.”
“But I don’t know anybody back East. And I don’t know about the theaters, where they are, who to write, or anything else.”
“You don’t need to know,” insisted Lucy. “I still know some theatrical agents. I ought to be able to find one who can fix you up. In no time at
all, you’ll be rich and famous.”
“I don’t want to be rich and famous. I just want to get away from here.”
“Not want to be rich?” Lucy squeaked as though Eliza had spoken some heresy. “Cut your tongue out. You are young and beautiful. Naturally you’ll be rich.”
“You can write those agents and tell them to look for a job for me, but make sure to tell them I’m going to keep on doing things just like I am now.”
“Such a waste,” Lucy said, hauling herself out of the chair. “I will tell them, but they won’t be happy.”
The contraction gripped Susan’s body, forcing her to halt her conversation.
“Aren’t you afraid to have your baby by yourself?” Eliza asked when she could gather the courage to speak. She had come to visit Susan and found her beginning her labor.
“Sam will help. I never had the least trouble with Billy,” Susan said, panting for breath. The spasm passed as suddenly as it had come, and her strained expression relaxed into a smile.
“You’re much braver than I would ever be,” said Eliza.
“It’s not bravery at all.” Susan chuckled. “You can scream all you like, but there’s nothing you can do once your labor starts. I hope this one’s quick.” The contractions had started three hours ago. Eliza couldn’t see anything quick about that.
“I hope Sam gets back soon,” Eliza said, but when Sam did arrive there wasn’t anything he could do.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to fetch the doctor?” he asked.
“You know he won’t come this far for a baby. And if you think I can ride in a wagon all the way to Buffalo, you don’t know what it’s like to be in labor.”
“I wish I could help you,” her husband replied, tucking in her sheets. But her water broke, and by the time they had changed the bed and her clothes, the contractions were stronger and coming closer together until Susan’s pain was nearly unbearable.
“Something’s wrong,” she said with tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t like this with Billy. It hurts too much.” Another contraction caused her to scream in pain and Sam lifted the sheets covering his wife.
“Oh my God,” he said after only a glance. “The baby’s arm is showing. It’s coming out the wrong way.”
Eliza turned deathly white. It was a breach birth. Unless the baby could be turned around, it would die. And Susan could die too.
“Get the wagon ready,” Eliza said, coming to her feet. “We’re taking her to town. Send Billy ahead to warn the doctor. What do you want to take with you?” Eliza asked as she began garnering sheets and blankets. It had been warm during the day—a chinook wind had melted much of the recent snow—but the temperature would probably drop below freezing before morning.
“Just the baby’s clothes,” Susan said. “And you’d better tell Sam to bring along something for him and Billy. Otherwise they’re liable to smell overripe before we get back.”
“I’ll take them to the saloon and they can have a bath and borrow all the domes they need.”
“It’s good of you to stay with me,” Susan said, in a teary voice.
“I wouldn’t think of leaving, not that I’m much help.”
“You’ll be a help to Sam. He’s a good man, but he can’t stand it when things go wrong.”
“You stop worrying about Sam and concentrate on having that baby.”
But by the time every mattress and blanket in the house had been loaded into the wagon, Susan was in considerable distress. She turned white with pain when Sam carried her out to the wagon, but she clenched her teeth, determined to endure the agony of the long trip to town.
It was impossible to avoid every rock and gully in the road, and although Sam kept the horse to a walk, Eliza had to sit by helplessly and listen to Susan’s piteous groans at the wagon’s every wrenching move. Even in the rapidly cooling air, perspiration ran from her forehead.
They hadn’t covered a quarter of the distance when they heard a rider approaching rapidly from the direction of town, and an exhausted and terrified Billy burst upon them from out of the gathering dusk.
“The doctor’s away. Some man’s horse fell on him, and the doctor’s gone to set his leg,” he reported, gasping for breath.
“What can we do?” asked Sam, beginning to unravel.
“Turn in at the first ranch or homestead you see,” Eliza said, forcing her brain to think. “Maybe somebody there will know what to do.”
Billy stared at her in bewilderment. “Don’t you remember?” he asked. “The Matador is the closest place.”
Chapter 28
Eliza’s heart began to pound rapidly. For the first time in weeks she had gone several hours without thinking of Cord, but he must have slipped inside her defenses during that time, for coining face to face with the possibility she would see him, would actually have to speak to him, Eliza had to force herself to keep Susan’s danger uppermost in her thoughts. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a splinter of panic, a sliver of determination to seek another farmhouse or let the Haughtons proceed alone, but it was quickly banished by the uprush of joy at the thought of seeing Cord again. Her treacherous heart actually rejoiced because it was her duty to accompany her friend to Cord’s ranch.
“Are there any women there?” Sam’s voice recalled Eliza to the presence. Her own troubles must be set aside in the face of Susan’s need. Maybe she wouldn’t even have to see Cord. Being at the Matador would be terribly difficult, but she would survive. She had to.
“There’s the foreman’s wife,” she said. “Billy, go ask if she knows where we can find a midwife.”
“Yes, ma’am.” After witnessing one of his mother’s harrowing paroxysms, the boy was only too anxious to get away.
“Put that horse into a trot,” Eliza directed Sam. “Time is running out.”
It was with conflicting emotions that Eliza saw the Matador ranch house materialize out of the night, but she didn’t have time to think of her own heartache. Billy’s warning had sounded the alarm, and Ginny met them at the door with men ready to carry Susan, mattress and all, up to one of the bedrooms. Ginny’s one passion in life was babies.
“Miss Smallwood! What are you doing here?”
Eliza was jolted by the unexpected hostility in her voice. Cord’s anger she could understand, but that anyone else would be angry for him was stunning. But before Eliza could reply, Ginny had put aside her anger in the face of the crisis. “What’s wrong?”
“Breach,” muttered Susan, barely conscious.
“Good God,” Ginny exclaimed. “I’ll have to turn it around, or we’ll lose them both. You see about the boy,” Ginny directed Eliza tersely. “Her husband can give me what help I need.” She superintended the whole operation, all the while scattering clipped commands with the elan of a seasoned general, and within minutes she firmly closed the bedroom door against the outside world.
At first Eliza occupied herself in an attempt to divert Billy’s mind, but one of the cowboys took him off to the bunkhouse for the evening and Eliza was left alone in a house she had once thought would be her own. She would have preferred to face the two miners again.
At first she sat rigidly erect trying not to look at her surroundings, but the minutes rolled by and nothing happened to keep her thoughts from reverting to Cord and the knowledge that he must soon return and find her in his house. What was she going to say? What was she going to do?
Suddenly she saw herself in Susan’s place, having Cord’s baby, and the pain she had tried to push away came crashing down on her once again. Why had Fate held out such promise only to snatch it away once it was within her grasp? If she’d never met Cord, she could have endured a life without love; after all, she had only read about it in her mother’s books. But it was a fearful misery to have to give it up after tasting its joys.
“Mr. Stedman says for you to come to dinner,” Franklin said, sticking his head in the door.
“What?” squeaked Eliza, starting up from her chair.
&
nbsp; “He’s waiting for you in the dining room.”
“I can’t,” she began men stopped abruptly. “I’m not hungry. I’ll just wait here.” Franklin watched her closely, and some understanding of the pain she suffered softened his expression.
“Ginny fixed it. It’s pot roast and hot rolls.”
Eliza’s mouth watered and she realized she was hungry, but she would starve before she faced Cord. “I’d really rather not.”
“It’s none of my business what’s between you and the boss,” Franklin said without feeling any of the embarrassment that nearly mortified Eliza, “but I suspect if you don’t come to the table, he’ll have it served in here.”
Eliza checked a reckless, impulse to make a dash for the door. She couldn’t run away from things for the rest of her life and she might as well make a stand now. Instinct told her she was attempting too much and would probably be overwhelmed in the struggle, but she was cornered with nowhere to go—at least nowhere her pride would allow her to accept. She felt rooted to the floor, but long habit made her feet move her to the door with little outward sign of the emotional turbulence inside her.
“Any word on Susan?”
“It’s too soon, but if anybody can help her it’s my Ginny.”
“Has she turned a baby before?”
“Only once, and after the doctor had near “bout killed the poor woman.” Eliza’s worry eased somewhat, only to mushroom again when she saw Cord waiting to hold her chair.
The sight of his heavily muscled profile caused her throat to constrict, but when he turned toward her and she felt the full power of that ruggedly handsome face, saw the sadness in his eyes, was assaulted by the dynamic force of his presence, she feared she was going to swoon. She sat down, and incapable of forming words, responded to his talk with a nod. Gradually her brain began to function, to process sounds and decipher speech.
“…able to get here. Ginny says we’re in for a night of it.”
“Has there been any news yet?” Hadn’t she already asked that question?
“Only that it’s going to be slow work.” He smiled at her concern and Eliza’s pulse began to beat erratically. She looked down at her plate, and then at the empty places around her.
Wicked Wyoming Nights Page 28
