by Caroline Lee
Serena wasn’t paying attention because she was sleepy, however. No, she was busy thinking about Mr. Sebastian Carderock the third. She wondered if he was at the service today. The Selkirk pew was towards the front of the church, so he could very well be sitting behind her. She just hadn’t worked up enough courage to turn around to look. What if he wasn’t there? What if he’d decided to join a different church, or just didn’t want to see her again? And what if he was there, and gave her another one of those heart-melting smiles that flashed his dimple? She didn’t quite sigh, but spent a pleasant moment thinking about that dimple, and the way his smiles made her feel. Sort of nervous, but excited too. And very warm.
After that almost-kiss in her aunts’ front parlor, Sebastian had entertained them with stories of the places and events he’d seen. He’d told them all about his family in New York, and his desire to make a difference in the world, and his years teaching at Eton. All of them had been utterly enthralled by his descriptions of fashionable New York society, and his family’s place in it. He was so strikingly handsome, such a perfect gentleman, that it was easy to imagine him as some sort of nobleman.
He’d done a wonderful job of interacting with Annie, despite not using sign; by the end of the meal, Annie had been much more confident in using her speech, although she still signed most of her statements as well. Serena couldn’t believe the change she saw happening to the girl, all thanks to a breath-taking smile from a handsome teacher. And Sebastian had been a dream come true for Noah and Pete; he had been willing to spend a half-hour behind her aunts’ home teaching them the basics of baseball, and they’d followed him around in hero-worship for the rest of the day. Oh yes, he was a prince among men.
But most of all, Serena admired him for the fact that he’d come from wealth, but wanted to use his God-given talents to help others, by teaching. It seemed so noble, so honorable. Like something a knight of the Round Table would have done. She smiled and rested her cheek against Noah’s hair, thinking of the tale by Sir Thomas Malory that Wendy had lent to her all those years ago. It was one of her favorites, because of the allure of the sophistication and gallantry of the knights. She was a realist, and knew that she wasn’t going to be swept off of her feet by a knight in shining armor… but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate the chivalry of a wealthy man working towards the betterment of his fellow citizens. It was what she admired most about Sebastian.
She sighed then. Who was she kidding? She admired everything about the man. He was refined and polite and learned, unlike most of Wyoming Territory’s eligible bachelors. And unlike the excess of cowboys around Cheyenne, Sebastian Carderock was smooth and spotless and mild. He didn’t tower over her; he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed. She wasn’t afraid that he might unintentionally hurt her, which was her secret fear around rough men like her father or Cam. It was impossible to imagine him being happy stuck in the middle of nowhere running a cattle ranch, and he didn’t expect a woman to shoe a horse or scrub a floor or cook for a dozen hands.
Serena shifted uncomfortably. Of course, Molly could do all of those things—cook and clean and survive in the harsh Wyoming nothingness—and Serena had never thought any less of her friend. Molly and Annie seemed perfectly content to keep house; and while Ash was large and rough and brusque, he was also kind and gentle to his loved ones. In fact, he was the first man to teach her that not all coarse and overpowering men were as callous as her father had been.
But despite the lessons the Barkers and the Murrays had taught her, Serena knew that she didn’t belong on a ranch; she wanted a life in Cheyenne. That was what had held her back during the last month of Cam MacLeod’s courting, despite knowing that he would probably make a good husband. She wanted to live in the city, and was beginning to wonder if she could sell the Double-S and make enough money teaching to support her and her aunts.
But then again, if she were to marry a city man, perhaps one recently arrived who admitted to being captivated by Cheyenne as much as she was…. Maybe they could live their Happily Ever After here in the city, just like the heroines in all of the dime novels.
She scoffed at her foolishness, and wished she could talk things over with Wendy. Her friend might not have all the answers, but she’d listen and give good advice. Wendy probably hadn’t even received her last letter yet, but Serena vowed to pour all of her confusion and frustration and excitement into a letter that evening, and hope her friend had some insight she’d missed.
Feeling a little better, Serena did her best to focus on Reverend Davis’ comparison of a central government to the benevolent hand of God. It was a little hard to follow, but the dear man was obviously agitated by the assassination attempt on the president. It might have been a hot topic of conversation back east, but here in Cheyenne, where they weren’t even a state yet, tomorrow’s celebration and picnic were far more interesting discussion points. Right before they all joined together in song, Serena remembered the conversation at dinner about the Fourth celebration. Sebastian said that he would bid on her basket! She felt her stomach flip-flop, and wondered if she’d actually be lucky enough to spend the picnic with such an admirable escort.
She raised her voice and joined in with the congregation, and if it was a bit more joyous than warranted, she felt that God would understand.
Cam fiddled nervously with his hat, waiting for the crush of people to exit the church. He’d come in late, and had to sit in the very back pew by the door, but knew exactly where she’d be. Despite her being so much shorter than everyone between them, he’d had no trouble picking out the pale halo of her hair. He spent as much time watching her—thinking about her—as he did listening to Reverend Davis, despite the topic of the sermon. Truth be told, he really only ever came to church to see her.
Today was special, though. Today was July third. He’d gotten up before dawn to take care of his morning chores, and then rode like the blazes to make it into town before the service started. He’d tried again to get his father to go with him, to stay in town overnight for the big celebration, but the old man’d turned him down grumpily. He wasn’t much for church or crowds, and so hadn’t celebrated Independence Day since coming to Wyoming from Ontario. “Scotland an’ Canada still bow to the queen,” he’d grumble. “Why should I celebrate some other country’s independence from her?”
It was a shame, because Da would have enjoyed all the delicious foods the womenfolk always whipped up. But there were so many people—thousands and thousands—as people poured in from all over the Territory. Cheyenne had the biggest Fourth of July celebration north of Salt Lake, and everyone knew it. Da would have hated the press of people, the crowds, and the inability to find any peace. Cam hated it too, much preferring the wide open spaces of his own land, but he could stand visiting the city when it was needed. The allure of all those treats at the barbeque—and the possibility of Miss Serena Selkirk’s company—made dealing with the crowds worthwhile.
Cam was planning on using the rest of the day to visit Bullard’s Dry Goods and Meanea’s Saddle Shop over on 17th. He needed a new set of chaps, and to restock some basic supplies. But he was hoping that he’d be able to spend some time with Serena. He knew that Molly Barker and her family were staying with the Selkirks, but the promise of her cooking was only half the allure. He wanted an opportunity to court the woman he loved more privately, before having to announce his intentions publicly tomorrow in the basket auction.
He was nervous, and couldn’t help shifting his weight around. He’d seen her aunts join a group of their friends under one of the trees, and Molly and Annie were trying to keep track of the boys while chatting with two other mothers. And then she strolled out of the church, a slightly distracted expression that turned into a smile when she saw him. Her smiles never failed to make him feel ten feet tall, and he poured all of his devotion into his return grin.
“Cam MacLeod! I was wondering if you’d be able to make it to the celebrations. Is your father with yo
u?” Serena peered behind him, but Cam couldn’t tell if it was because she was genuinely curious, or a little concerned that he’d brought the old grump along.
“Nah, he said someone has to make sure that the cattle don’t wander off while me and the boys are in town.” He gripped his hat in both hands. “You sure look pretty today, Serena.” She smiled politely, and he could sense her attention drifting away, so he quickly grasped a topic. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow’s picnic?” He inwardly winced at the question. Of course she’d be excited about it.
Sure enough, her interest now seemed only polite, somehow, rather than the frank attention she’d shown him at her ranch. He began to panic as he wondered if he’d been judged and found lacking somehow. “Of course. The barbeque is always delicious, but the bonfire is my favorite part. I love the singing and dancing and fireworks.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m hoping you’d be willing to share a dance with me, Serena.” Her cheeks pinked and she lowered her gaze. Aha, a candid reaction! “I plan on bidding on the basket you’re going to enter in the auction.” There! He’d said it.
“That would be very nice, Cam.”
His brows drew in slightly at her noncommittal response to his declaration, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because at that moment her face lit up in one of her stunning, genuine smiles.
His heart leapt.
And then he realized that she was staring beyond his left shoulder, and it sunk again. “Oh, Mr. Carderock! I was hoping—I mean, it’s very nice to see you again, sir.”
“Miss Serena, I wouldn’t miss the chance of your company for anything.” Cam had to watch the newcomer—a lithe dandy of a man with a citified accent and an actual suit—bend over Serena’s hand like they were at a ball or something. She blushed prettily and smiled up at Cam’s new rival.
Cam cleared his throat meaningfully, and Serena started. “Oh, excuse me! Cam, this is Sebastian Carderock the third, from New York. He’s come to Cheyenne to teach math at the Central School, and Annie is going to be one of his students. Sebastian, this is Cam MacLeod, who owns the ranch next to the Double-S. We’ve known him for years, and he’s practically family.”
He could see Carderock’s shoulders relax when Serena called him family. Why would she say that? Cam was courting her. But calling him family made him seem like a brother or cousin, and Cam knew that if this newcomer was interested in courting her as well, then she’d just effectively told him that Cam wasn’t a threat.
And so his grip was just a little more crushing than it might otherwise have been when the two shook hands. But Sebastian Carderock—the third, he mentally sneered—was stronger than Cam would have thought, and didn’t flinch. The dandy was shorter than Cam, but then most everyone was, and had dark hair styled with something expensive-looking. A school-teacher. She was interested in this school-teacher? This delicate weakling?
Then Carderock actually squeezed his hand in response, and Cam’s brows shot up in grudging admiration. He didn’t know many men as strong as he was, and now he had to reevaluate his impression of the newcomer. Sebastian Carderock wasn’t a weakling, but he still didn’t belong out here. Wyoming belonged to the tough and the driven; men like Cam and Ash Barker and Stan Selkirk, who’d built something out of nothing and made it thrive. Posh and cultured citified men had no place in the Territory. All they’d do was live here in the city and make it classier and more civilized.
…exactly the way Serena wanted to do. Cam pushed the thought away, but it kept creeping back, especially when he saw her smile at Carderock. He’d been wrestling with the basic differences for weeks now. If he loved her, how could he hate the thought of being stuck living in the city? And how could he ask her to live on the Open Skye with him and his father, knowing that she’d hate it? But here was the kind of man she’d probably be really happy with. The kind of man she deserved.
Cam nearly spat at the thought. She deserved better than this fop.
And then he glanced at her, and saw the hope brimming in her eyes, and knew he couldn’t disappoint her. She was expecting politeness from him, and he sighed. Sometimes cows were so much easier to deal with than people. “New York City, huh? What do you think of our little town?”
His brows rose again at the excitement that suddenly lit up the other man’s face. “Not so little, Mr. MacLeod! Cheyenne is a growing, changing, dynamic city, and I’m thrilled to be here and be a part of it.” Yeah, those were exactly the things that made Cam dislike the city. “The level of culture—fueled, I’m sure, by being on the direct rail line—is astounding. There will be an Opera House here next year! I’m still amazed by that.”
“Is it true you’ve invested in it?” Serena’s voice was a little breathless, and Cam’s jealousy reared again. This dandy was rich too?
Sebastian nodded. “I’ve always enjoyed fine music. How could I not make every effort to spread that pleasure? And judging from the audiences I’ve seen already in Cheyenne, they hunger for more. I only had to look around the church this morning to see fellow music lovers. The Cheyenne Theater is perfectly adequate, but I’m sure we’ll all appreciate a dedicated music venue. I think the Opera House will make a good return, and I’m proud to be a part of it.”
Serena was flushing, and Cam was a little sick to think that it was from pleasure. “I’m sure Mr. Kaminsky would be thrilled to hear your praises. He is, I think, Cheyenne’s most accomplished fiddler. Don’t you agree, Cam?”
He appreciated her attempts to draw him into the conversation, and having heard the man fiddle at last year’s Independence Day bonfire, he agreed with her assessment. But he just grunted non-committedly, not willing to trust himself to speak. Carderock didn’t have any trouble speaking up. “I agree, Miss Serena. I definitely could not have matched his skill, and I taught the violin for three years.”
He played the violin? Here he stood in the middle of the Cheyenne dust, dressed in a full-on morning suit with top hat, and talked about Opera and playing violin? Didn’t he realize Wyoming was no place for someone like him? “The violin?” He tried to keep the smirk out of his voice, but was pretty sure Carderock heard it, based on the way the other man’s eyes went hard.
“Indeed, Mr. MacLeod. Learning music makes learning math easier, since it can all essentially be simplified to numbers. I’ve found that many students understand their math lecture more easily after a lesson with a musical instrument.” Cam had never heard a bigger crock of bull in his life. Math? Music? Who needed such useless lessons out here on the range?
Serena was standing beside Carderock, and Cam tried not to notice that they made a fine pair. It helped that her eyes were shining with an excitement he’d never seen her express in his presence before. “Sebastian spent three years teaching at Eton—that’s a very prestigious boarding school in England—before coming here.”
The muscles of Cam’s jaw hardened. He’d grown up in Glengarry County, surrounded by other descendants of Highlanders pushed out of their homes by greedy landlords during the Clearances. These bitter Scots had no love for the English, despite being Canadian citizens, and it had rubbed off on Cam. “So you’re English, eh? Should I call you m’lord?”
He was being rude and petty, and saw Serena’s disappointed look. “Don’t be silly, Cam. He taught at a school in England,” her voice sharpened, “that doesn’t make him a lord.” Cam frowned, knowing he should apologize for such a childish remark, but unwilling to. Hell, the man might as well be a prince, strutting out to Wyoming like he owned the place, so sure of his reception by the most eligible miss in town…
“Why not speak for yourself, Carderock? Too busy hiding behind a woman’s skirts?”
Cam saw Carderock’s jaw clench at the taunt, and the other man took a step closer to him, fists balled at his side. Not wanting to back down, Cam stepped forward as well, and was impressed despite himself when Carderock took another step. Cam knew that he was a big man, and could be intimidating. But here was a citified, violin
-playing, almost-English math teacher standing up to him.
“I’m not hiding. I’m deliberating.”
“Fancy words meaning you’re thinking about hitting me?”
“No. I’m trying to convince myself not to.”
Cam saw the cold anger in the other man’s eyes, and knew that he was telling the truth. Carderock wanted to hit him. “Out here, a man has to fight sometimes, to protect what’s his.” He was talking about Serena, and knew that Carderock understood.
“Civilized men can debate logically, no matter their location.” Carderock’s words might be elegant, but he was still restraining himself. Because in front of a church with Serena looking on wasn’t the time or place for a fight? Or because he was scared of Cam? No, there wasn’t fear in his pretty-boy face, but determination. It took guts to stand up to someone a head taller than him, and Cam hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected Carderock to be that tough.
And that made Cam even more irate, to think that a dandy like Carderock could have any worthwhile characteristics. Anything that might make Cam respect him, even a bit. He was chewing on his own ire and jealousy and itching for a fight. He wondered if Carderock was enough of a man to give him one.
“Well, welcome to Wyoming,” Cam snarled as he threw the punch.
To his surprise, the younger man didn’t go down. That aristocratic nose gave beneath Cam’s fist as the dark head snapped backwards, and Carderock took a step backwards. But he took the punch better than he had any right to. Serena had gasped, her hand going to her mouth in shock, and Cam wondered if it’d been smart to show his anger in front of her.
Carderock’s eyes were dark ice when he raised a handkerchief to his nose to stop the bleeding, his free hand fisting and opening by his side. Cam could tell the other man wanted to hit him back, to inflict damage, despite his size.
Cam felt acid in his stomach, realizing that this dandy was showing more self-restraint than he had. He had more control than Cam had ever had, especially when it came to Serena.
