“Of course.”
“Why does my trust matter so much?”
She gave him a hint of a smile. “If I’m fully honest,” she finally answered, “then I have to say that I care about you and want to be your friend. Your good friend. Perhaps even . . . your best friend.”
Her answer took him by surprise. What exactly she meant by “best friend,” he couldn’t begin to guess. Women were strange creatures. They didn’t think the same way men did. Her desire to become his best friend might mean nothing more than keeping each other company throughout their time with the show. It might mean something infinitely more.
As if to prove it did, Mary inched closer, and with her nearness, Chris lost all reason and leaned toward her mouth. He hesitated only a moment, then pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was brief and chaste but very satisfying.
They pulled apart, and only then did Chris realize neither one had closed their eyes. Mary smiled. “I guess that answers my question.”
Chris coughed to cover his embarrassment. He’d never allowed himself to act in such a manner before. “Well, to prove my trust in you, I have a surprise.”
“You already gave me a surprise.” She grinned and picked up another piece of fish. “At least it was a surprise to me.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been working on something since before we left America.” He hadn’t intended to tell Mary about his secret deals, but since they involved her—or might—he figured he owed her that much. Not only that, but he had to distance himself from the kiss and consider what was happening between them.
She smiled and leaned toward him, as if for another kiss. “What?”
He leaned back and dabbed his mouth with his handkerchief before answering. Good grief, he wanted to kiss her again. “I sent a message to Annie Oakley. I asked if she would consider doing a one-time contest with you.”
“What?” Mary repeated the word again, this time in alarm. She shook her head and backed away.
Chris held up his hands. “I spent time, you’ll recall, with Buffalo Bill Cody’s show and got to know the people there. Annie is a marvelous woman, and I think she might very well enjoy having a shooting contest with you. Sort of the past meets the future. Just like this town.”
“Oh, Chris . . . oh, I don’t know if that’s a very good idea at all. I mean . . . well, of course she’s much better than I am. I don’t know what Oliver or the Adlers would say.”
“They would be thrilled. Annie Oakley’s name is known from one end of the country to the other, as well as here in Europe. I think the ticket to such an event could be ten times what we normally charge, maybe twenty times.” He grinned. “I think people would pay just about anything to see such a competition. The pictures would be wonderful, and the article could run in the magazine as soon as possible. I know my editor would be delighted.”
“Oh my . . .” She swallowed and looked for a moment as if she might be sick. “I never even hoped to meet her. My father knew her. He thought she was the best shooter God ever put on earth. He also told me to strive to be as good as Annie Oakley.”
“Well, I think you are, and this competition should take place. After all, you two have a great deal in common.” Chris picked up a chip and popped it in his mouth.
For the first time ever, he’d managed to leave Mary speechless. Not even his kiss had done that.
Lizzy steadied her mount. Thoreau was her choice for the night, but he was antsy and not at all his normal self.
“What’s the matter, boy?” she asked, leaning over his neck. She gave him long strokes down either side, as she did whenever he was nervous, but tonight it did little good.
She wished Wes or Phillip were close by, but Phillip was busy with the Roman team, and Wes had been called away to adjust a shoe on Alice’s horse.
“You’re on next, Lizzy,” Ella said, coming to stand beside her. She looked up with a frown. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but Thoreau is a bit out of sorts. I suppose he’ll be fine once we get out there.” Lizzy straightened in the saddle. “Goodness, but I’ll be glad when we get back to America. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to be done with the show. I haven’t told Wes yet, but I’ve made up my mind to resign after this season.”
“But Jason said he hoped you’d go another year . . . you know, just to give me extra time,” Ella countered.
“You don’t need extra time. You’re already as good as I am, and I’ve been doing this most of my life. You have a natural talent, and I know you’ll surpass me by leaps and bounds.”
Out in the arena, Jason was announcing the next act.
“Looks like I’m up.” Lizzy gathered the reins and adjusted her feet in the stirrups. “Thoreau seems calmer now. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Ella nodded, and Lizzy maneuvered the beautiful dappled buckskin toward the arena entrance.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I present to you the world famous Elizabeth Brookstone,” Jason said through his megaphone. The small orchestra they’d arranged began to play, and that was Lizzy’s cue to make her entrance.
For the first half of her act, things went along without a miss. Lizzy began to relax, seeing that Thoreau had finally fallen into his normal paces. They went through a series of tricks with Lizzy vaulting on and off the horse in between spins and drags. She knew that one day very soon this would all be behind her, but for now she had to admit she still loved it.
Jason began building the crowd’s excitement by announcing that her next series of tricks were death-defying and required absolute silence. The orchestra stopped playing, and a hush fell over the audience. Of course, it wasn’t really necessary for Lizzy or her horse, but it made things seem tenser, and that was a part of thrilling the spectators.
“Gentlemen, please keep an eye on your ladies, for this final series of tricks has been known to bring about fainting spells.”
Lizzy smiled to herself. There had been fainting spells, usually by addlepated ninnies who wore their corsets too tight.
She made adjustments for the last run. Holding on to the front skirt corner of her saddle with her right hand, Lizzy twisted her left hand to hold the horn upside down. As she did this, she leaned forward. She reached the horse’s neck, then pushed both feet up into the air and pointed her toes. From there she went forward into a sort of cartwheel, but something happened as she loosened her hold. She lost her grip, and before she realized it, she was headed for the ground. Somewhere along the way she hit her head. On what, she wasn’t sure, but she saw stars and was disoriented enough that she nearly lost her grip altogether.
Thoreau instantly knew something was different. He was well trained, however, to go with the flow. Lizzy barely managed to swing herself back upright before guiding Thoreau out of sight of the audience. Once there, she brought Thoreau to a stop as her vision narrowed and she slid sideways from the saddle.
Then everything went black.
nineteen
But I’m fine, I assure you,” Lizzy argued with the doctor.
“Nevertheless, you must have bed rest for the next few days.”
“Don’t worry,” Wes said with a firm edge to his tone. “She won’t get out of this bed even once during that time.”
The doctor gathered his things. “I’m glad to hear it. She has a slight concussion, but if she takes it easy, I’m sure she’ll recover without further complications.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jason said from the opposite side of the bed.
“Let me walk with you out, Edward,” Henry Adler declared. The doctor gave a nod, and the two men left the room without another word.
Lizzy looked at Wes and smiled. “I’m really all right. You don’t have to look so concerned.”
“I want you to quit the show now.”
“She can’t do that,” Jason said, moving toward the right side of the bed while Wesley took a closer position on the left. “People are counting on her.”
“She’s
hurt,” Wes countered, folding his arms across his chest. “You only care about ticket sales, but I care about the well-being of my future wife.”
“I care a great deal about Lizzy’s well-being, as you certainly know.” Jason crossed his arms, mirroring Wes’s stance. “The doctor said she’ll be just fine in a few days’ time.”
“It’s too dangerous. I won’t have her risking her life to line your pockets.”
Lizzy found herself watching the argument volley from man to man. “I hope you realize I’m still in the room,” she said, shaking her head. It did hurt, but she wasn’t about to admit that to either of them.
“You’re here only by the grace of God.” Wes moved closer to the bed. “Lizzy, you scared the life out of me. I thought I’d lost you.”
She smiled at the concern in his voice and reached out her hand. “Sit here. I’m perfectly fine.”
Wes took a seat beside her and looked at Jason with a smirk.
“Jason, I promise I won’t desert the show until the end of the season.” She felt Wes stiffen and squeezed his hand. “And I promise you, Wesley, that I will follow the doctor’s orders and take it easy for the next few days.”
“It’s ridiculous to continue risking your life when you’ve already decided to leave the show at the end of the year. There’s no shame in leaving early. You said yourself that Ella is more than ready to take on the starring role, and there’s only one show left anyway.”
“But that isn’t what people paid for,” Jason protested. “Not only that, but you two promised to stage an engagement for us at the Expo. It’s important that you go through with it, especially now that the president has died. Americans are in mourning and need something to cheer them up.” He fixed Wesley with a look that suggested he had the upper hand.
It was the wrong thing to remind Wesley of, and Lizzy knew he’d have no part in the production now that Jason was using it like a trump card.
“There isn’t going to be a staged engagement. Oliver is ill, and now Lizzy is injured. I’m taking them both home.”
“No!” Lizzy declared before Jason could respond. “Wes, that isn’t called for. We gave our word.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending this buffoon’s desires. He cares only for the money and fame that can be had.” Wes stood, and though Lizzy tried to keep hold of his hand, he pulled away. “I thought you’d understand, Lizzy. I thought you’d care more about seeing to Oliver’s needs, even if you aren’t worried about your own.”
“That’s hardly fair, Wes. You know I care about Uncle Oliver. I’m the one who insisted he stay in bed. I was the one who told him Jason and Henry could handle the show’s announcements.” It hurt her deeply that he thought her unfeeling.
“I heard your uncle talking about resuming his role at the Expo performance,” Wes said, his anger growing by the minute. “I heard Jason tell him that would be wonderful—especially so that he could be part of our mock engagement.”
“And it will be. Oliver will be much better by then, and his touch on the moment will be perfect,” Jason said, as if it were all perfectly logical.
Lizzy frowned. This was the first she’d heard of Uncle Oliver planning to be part of the show when they returned to America. “I don’t think it’s good to encourage Uncle Oliver to perform. He needs a complete break from the show, and I intend to see that he goes home to rest.”
“But just think how much he’s looking forward to this,” Jason argued. “He told me himself that the idea of being involved gave him a reason to get well.”
“I’m betting it was your idea in the first place. You probably got him all stirred up with it,” Wesley said and began to pace. “I think you’ve done enough to manipulate folks, don’t you?”
“Is that what this is about?” Jason asked, his voice calm in contrast to Wesley’s.
“You know very well that nothing has gone right with this trip to England, starting with that stunt you pulled in New York.”
“I apologized for that,” Jason said, looking unabashed. He pointed at Lizzy. “She’s accepted my apology. Why can’t you?”
“If you hadn’t done what you did, then Oliver wouldn’t have been drinking as much as he was and wouldn’t have gotten ill. My brother wouldn’t have been drinking and gotten himself thrown into jail, and while I appreciate whatever it was you did to get him out, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t selfishly sent me back to Montana.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize you knew anything about that.”
“Well, I do, and frankly it might have served Phillip better to let him sit in jail and face his consequences, but you seem to enjoy playing puppet master.”
“Wes, it’s hardly fair to blame Jason for choices Uncle Oliver and Phillip made.” Lizzy’s head was beginning to ache from the drama playing out around her. All she wanted to do was lean back against the pillow and close her eyes, but she didn’t dare. She could tell Wesley was just a step away from making this a physical fight.
He looked at her, his brow furrowing. “Are you actually taking his side on this? You agreed with me before, as I recall.”
Lizzy thought of all the problems it would cause if they ended the show. Uncle Oliver would lose everything. They would all lose out, and no one would be paid for their time abroad.
“It’s not a matter of taking sides, Wes. It’s just reasonable to expect that each man is responsible for his own actions. Uncle Oliver and Phillip could have gotten themselves in trouble drinking even if you were here. You can’t hold yourself responsible for them. If they want to drink, they’re going to drink.”
“I want you to quit, Lizzy. I want you to stand with me on this.”
She knew nothing she could say would make things right. She wanted to explain it all to Wes, but her promise to Uncle Oliver made it impossible. Maybe once she was able to speak to her uncle and explain that she needed to let Wesley in on things, then she could tell him, but for now she had to remain silent.
“I can’t quit, Wes. I asked you to trust me on this, and I’m asking you again.”
“No.” His answer was absolute, and Lizzy felt heartsick.
“If you can’t trust me, then maybe it’s best if we don’t stage our engagement. Maybe it’s better to have no engagement at all.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this, but neither could she imagine a life where Wes had no trust in her.
He looked at her for a moment, his face void of emotion. Then he gave a nod. “If that’s the way you want it. Maybe you and Adler can stage your engagement.” He stalked from the room, leaving Lizzy in silent shock.
“I’m so sorry, Lizzy,” Jason said. “It’s better, though, that you know how he feels now rather than after you’re married.”
“Get out of here, Jason.” She looked at him and shook her head. “He’s right about one thing. Your actions completely complicated this, and while I forgive you . . . there are still consequences to bear.”
“But, Lizzy, I—”
She held up her hand. “My head hurts and I want to rest. Please go.”
Jason took a step toward the bed, then stopped. “I never wanted to cause you pain. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, then turned to go. He stopped at the door and gave her one more glance before leaving.
Lizzy felt hot tears come to her eyes. What had just happened? Was Wes really going to give up on their engagement? On their life together?
“And then he said, ‘If that’s the way you want it,’ and walked out of the room,” Jason related to Mary and Chris the next day. His father had joined them and looked more than a little upset. “I don’t know what we’ll do for a finale now.”
Chris looked at Mary. She nodded. “I have something in mind for that, and I think you’ll both be pleased.”
Jason and his father both looked at Chris, but it was Henry Adler who spoke. “What is it?”
“A shooting contest.”
“We’ve had plenty of those and plan for one earlier in the day. Th
at’s nothing new,” Jason said in disgust.
Chris smiled. “This one is. I took the liberty awhile back to write to a friend of mine and suggest a friendly competition at the Expo. I wasn’t sure anything would come of it, but I’ve heard back, and my friend is willing.”
“I don’t see how this helps us,” Henry Adler replied. “We’ve already had fliers printed up and posted at the Expo to declare we’ll have a never-before-seen event.”
“And so this will be.” Chris put his arm around Mary. “Because my friend is Annie Oakley.”
“Oakley has agreed to come to the Expo and shoot against Mary?” Henry asked. His expression bore both shock and joy. “Are you serious?”
“I am.” Chris laughed. “Annie thought it sounded like fun. She and her husband will come by train and join us on the final day.”
“You’ve saved us,” Henry declared, slapping Chris on the back. “This is more marvelous than I could have imagined. Thank you, Williams. I hope I can do something for you in the future.” He turned to his son. “We need to make some plans. Williams, can you join us in my study? Say, in twenty minutes?”
Chris nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to.” He turned to Mary as the Adlers exited the room, deep in conversation.
“You’ve made them very happy,” he told Mary.
“No, you did that. I’m just the one who will have to shoot against Annie Oakley.”
He studied her for a moment. “You know, I think you look so lovely in your fashionable clothes, but you’re every bit as pretty in your western clothes with your hair down or braided and your stylish red hat atop your head.”
She gave him an odd look and shook her head. “What does that have to do with shooting against Annie Oakley?”
“Not a thing,” he said, smiling. “Not a single thing. But . . .” He took her arms and pulled her closer. “I’ve heard that complimenting a beautiful woman before kissing her makes the kiss all the sweeter.”
Wherever You Go Page 20
