Wicked Wyoming Nights (39 page)

“Please, don’t,” Eliza begged. “I’m sure it’s disagreeable to you for me to be here, but there seemed to be no other choice.”

“It’s not the least bit unpleasant,” Cord said with his eternal control. “If I’d known an emergency would bring you here, I’d have arranged one weeks ago.”

Eliza felt as if she were sinking helplessly in quicksand.

“I still think about you, and dream of you here, waiting for me to come home.”

Dear God, me too, thought Eliza, close to losing control. It was a recurring nightmare that destroyed her peace and reduced her nights to fitful periods of rest.

“I even make believe I’ve just come home, and we’re having dinner, like we do every evening.”

“Stop!” Eliza nearly screamed. Her hands closed like talons around her napkin, crushing the carefully ironed linen. She forced her frozen features to relax and with a great effort she pulled herself under control.

“I cannot remain here if you insist upon dwelling upon the past. It was an extremely painful interlude for me, and unlike you, I can’t talk about it as though it were some perfectly ordinary experience.”

Cord studied her face with apparent emotionless calm, his fork still in his hand, resting on his plate. “I won’t mention it again, but I want you to know losing you was the most terrible thing that ever happened to me. I’d have given away every steer on the place if I’d known what that first one was going to cost me.”

Eliza was shaken by a sob, and would have fled from the room if Sam hadn’t entered, driven from Susan’s side to his dinner by a harassed Ginny.

“How’s your wife?” Cord asked, giving Eliza an opportunity to collect herself.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, too distracted to sense the tension in the room. “Mrs. Church has the arm back inside, but she’s having a difficult time turning the baby around. She says it’s going to be terribly painful.” As though to reinforce his words, a scream from upstairs reverberated through the house. Sam came to his feet and headed out of the room, but Cord stood in front of him.

“I’m sure she’s all right, or Ginny wouldn’t have sent you away, especially not to eat your dinner.”

“No, she wouldn’t, would she?” mumbled Sam, trying to convince himself. He stumbled back to his chair, but the screams that penetrated to the farthest corner of the house destroyed everyone’s appetite.

“I’m going to see if I can help,” Eliza said, getting up with sudden decision. “It’s better than sitting down here doing nothing.”

“Let me go,” offered Sam.

“I think it would be better if Miss Smallwood went alone,” Cord said calmly. “Women seem to get along better without men at times like this.”

Eliza left the room without looking back.

“Why don’t we move to my office,” Cord suggested. “At least we won’t have them in the room overhead.” Sam was reluctant, but a piercing scream broke the last of his resolution, and he followed Cord without hesitation.

Cord tried to carry on a conversation, but Sam was too preoccupied to listen to more than half a sentence. Finally, Cord gave up, opened his desk, took out several ledgers, notebooks, and a supply of pens, and settled down to work. Sam continued to prowl about the room, pausing every now and then to ask Cord whether his wife was going to be all right, what he thought was going on now, or if he thought he ought to go up and see if they could use any help.

“No,” Cord said to the last question, slamming down his pen in irritation. “If they want your help, they’ll ask for it.”

“But they may not know where we are.”

“There’re at least twenty men on this place, and any one of them can find us. Now stop asking me the same question every five minutes. Doing these books is hard enough, but it’s impossible when you interrupt me every time I just about get these columns straight.”

“Keeping books is easy,” Sam said impatiently. “That’s what Susan wants me to go back to doing.”

“You’re welcome to start with these,” Cord said, offering Sam his seat. Sam hesitated only a moment before he sat down and allowed Cord to explain what he was doing. Gradually Sam’s interest was caught, and fifteen minutes later he was hard at work on the only job Cord Stedman had ever found difficult. Cord continued to supply him with books and answer an occasional question, but Sam had a real talent for bookkeeping and an hour later he had completed nearly half the work.

Cord realized he had not heard the muffled screams for some time, and after making sure Sam was still busy, he quietly left the room. He met Eliza coming down the stairs. She looked pale and ready to faint any minute. Cord escorted her to the parlor and put a glass of brandy in her hands.

“Drink it. It’ll make you feel better”

“I’d rather not.”

“Drink it, or I’ll pour it down your throat.” It was said more roughly than Cord had spoken that evening and unsettled her somewhat, but she lifted the glass and took a small swallow of the fruit-flavored liquid. The taste was quite pleasant, but when it hit her stomach it exploded into a fireball radiating heat throughout her body.

“Drink it all. It’s not enough to make you drunk. How are they doing upstairs?”

Eliza handed him the empty glass. “Ginny thinks she can turn the baby, but she’s worried Susan is too weak to give birth.” A silence fell between them. “How is Sam? Susan keeps asking about him.”

Cord smiled unexpectedly. “Come with me.”

Eliza followed Cord to his office and peeped in. Sam was still seated at the desk.

“He’s been working on those books for close to two hours,” said Cord.

“He used to be a bookkeeper. Susan’s been trying to get him to go back.”

“So he tells me.” They slowly retraced their steps to the parlor.

“He likes living out here, though, and working in the saloon. I doubt he’ll ever go back to Missouri. I don’t think Susan means to ask it of him, but she wants a house instead of a cabin and neighbors instead of empty hills.”

“Perhaps there’s a way they can both get what they want,” Cord said thoughtfully.

“Maybe.” Eliza stopped when they reached the stairs. “But first we have to make sure nothing happens to Susan or the baby.” Her body showed its fatigue as she climbed the broad stairs, but she stopped before reaching the top and turned and looked down at Cord. “It was kind of you to let us use your house.” There was a perceptible pause. “I like it very much.”

For a long while Cord remained standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at the spot where Eliza had stood; then much like a sleepwalker, he moved to the parlor and poured himself out a brandy. He rolled it around in his glass a few times before a faint smile broke the sternness of his features. He drained the glass in one swallow and left the room.

“It’s a girl,” Eliza announced, bursting into Cord’s office. “A big healthy girl.” Cord was writing letters, but Sam lay asleep across the finished books and Eliza had to shake him to wake him up. “Go on up,” she said as Sam jumped to his feet. “She’s waiting for you.”

Sam took the stairs two at a time. Abruptly, she and Cord were alone, and Eliza was thankful she was too tired to feel either happiness or pain. She doubted she could have endured facing Cord again otherwise.

“You must have had quite a night.”

“It was Ginny. I only helped.”

“Franklin says the coffee is ready. Breakfast will be on the table any minute now.”

Eliza hesitated.

“Ginny will be in as soon as she cleans up,” Cord assured her. “Franklin says she plans to sleep the rest of the day.”

Eliza was too tired to resist. At the moment, nothing seemed to matter very much except that Susan and the baby were fine.

Ginny and Franklin were already at the table, and they listened to Ginny’s account as she hungrily stuffed her mouth with food. Sam came in as they finished.

“Susan asked me to tell you she’s named the baby Virginia Elizabeth for both of you.” Sam’s eyes became watery. “She says it’s only right because neither of them would be here if it weren’t for the two of you.”

“She’s a sweet little thing and I’ll be happy to have a namesake,” Ginny replied prosaically, “but you better hope she grows up pretty like Miss Smallwood. She’ll never get anyplace looking like me.”

Cord rose from the table. “I’d like to see you in my office for a few minutes, Sam.”

Eliza looked surprised, but Sam swallowed his coffee and hurried after Cord.

“When will Susan be able to go home?” Eliza asked.

Ginny was exhausted, but she had not forgiven Eliza and now that Cord was gone, she dropped her friendly manner. “I don’t know. She’s in no shape to be taking care of herself, much less that baby. And then there’s the father and the boy to see to.
You
can’t help.”

“They can both eat at the saloon.”

“We can keep the boy here,” offered Franklin.

“That leaves Susan and the baby, but I’m too far away to come out every day.”

“I’ll look in on her when I can,” volunteered Ginny, “but I can’t be there all the time. Now you two can talk all you want,” she said, preparing to rise, “but I’ve got to go to bed before I drop.”

Sam burst into the room nearly colliding with Ginny. “He’s going to let us stay here, all four of us, and all I have to do is keep those books of his.” Sam was so elated he didn’t notice the looks of complete mystification.

“Not forever,” Cord corrected, entering the room on his heels. “I only offered until they can relocate in town.”

“You’ve sold your land?” Eliza asked stunned.

“For enough money to build the kind of house Susan has always wanted. With what I earn from the books and the saloon, we won’t have to worry about money any more. I’ve got to go tell Susan.”

“You ought to let her sleep,” said Ginny.

“She can sleep the rest of the day. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t tell her right away.”

“That wasn’t a bad night’s work,” Franklin said after Sam left. “You got the land you wanted and someone to do your books, and he’s deliriously happy into the bargain.”

“It just seemed to work out all around,” Cord said, a faint smile on his face.

“This seems to be your day for good deeds, but you’re going to have to celebrate without me,” said Ginny. She and Franklin went off, leaving Eliza alone with Cord.

“I want to see Susan before she goes to sleep, but I guess it’s time for me to go back.”

“You never did get a chance to sleep in that bed.”

“There never seemed to be time. And I don’t feel sleepy now.”

“Won’t you rest some before you go back?”

“I don’t think I’d better. If you could have someone take me to pick up my buggy …”

“I’ll take you myself”

Eliza looked at the face she loved so much. It was calm, determined, and so terribly handsome it tore at her heart to deny him. “I think it would be better if someone else took me.” It was hard, but it seemed easier to face him in the light of day than it had been the night before. Perhaps the fact that she had not run away had given her the courage.

“You would refuse to go with me?” Cord asked, his face not quite so calm now.

“I hope I won’t have to make that choice,” Eliza said, looking him squarely in the eye. She swallowed hard when Cord did not respond, but her gaze remained steady. “It was very painful for me to break our engagement. It’s not made any easier by being constantly reminded of what I gave up.”

For a moment Cord looked at her with equal earnestness, and then his features relaxed. “Go see your friend. I’ll have one of the boys ready when you come down.” He paused. “It was nice having you here.”

Eliza stood perfectly still; she was sure if she moved one muscle, she would call him back to her. The minute the door closed behind Cord she sank into a chair, too weak from the raging emotional torment within her to stay on her feet. She had faced Cord and refused him with calm determination, but it had cost her deeply. She felt like a piece of her had died; every time she denied him, she denied herself. She didn’t know how many more times she could do it.

She had grown in confidence and maturity during the past year, and learned to do things she never thought possible, but it was Cord’s love that had enabled her to see her own worth, it was Cord’s intervention that had made a place for her in the community, and it was Cord’s support that had enabled her to realize she was neither helpless nor without power.

Everything she had become was tied to Cord, and turning her back on the very roots of her strength was like pulling herself apart. She could go on becoming more independent and more successful, but what for? Self-respect or an improved vision of herself wasn’t enough. Cord had been her initial reason to want to enrich and improve her life. Now she discovered he was the
only
reason.

Chapter 29

Iris marched into Lucy’s room, heels stabbing angrily at the wood floor. “I’m supposed to wear this dress tonight,” she announced, throwing several pieces of bright material onto the table before Lucy. “You haven’t even started to sew it together. How can you possibly get it done in time?”

“I won’t,” Lucy replied through a mouthful of pins.