Her Wyoming Man (15 page)

The boy grinned and shot out of the room.

Already the day was promising to be one of the warmest of the summer. Ella had chosen a pale pink cotton dress for herself. Streamers of matching ribbons fluttered from her wide-brimmed straw hat.

She had selected a lightweight green-striped dress for Grace, and helped Robby don a white shirt and knee-length pants. She’d purchased a straw hat for him. He frowned and pouted when she placed it on his head.

“It will keep the sun from your eyes,” she assured him. “And you look quite dashing in it.” She picked him up and showed him his reflection in the hall mirror.

He appeared dubious, but soon forgot his uncertainty when his father called from below, “Who wants to ride in the buggy for the parade?”

Robby squirmed from her arms and took the stairs as quickly as his short little legs would allow. “Me am, Papa!”

Wearing her frilly bonnet, Grace joined Ella and reached for her hand before they descended the stairs. The gesture of trust and acceptance touched Ella.

“Whatever is wrong?” Nathan asked from where he stood in the foyer with Robby on one arm, his own hat in his other hand. Concern etched his handsome brow.

Ella shook her head, concerned that she’d shown emotion plain enough for her husband to notice. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just happy.”

“Well, you both look as sweet as ice cream,” he assured them. “You’ll be the prettiest girls there.”

Grace smiled up at her, and Ella returned her look of happiness. She was going to enjoy this day, regardless of the worry that niggled at her conscience. The celebration was important to the children and to Nathan, and they were important to her.

This was Independence Day, after all, and freedom was something she was determined to appreciate.

Chapter Eighteen

C
hristopher wore a pair of dungarees and a short-sleeved shirt and looked for all the world as though he was setting off on an adventure. And indeed he was, Ella realized shortly after leaving the house.

The neighborhood bustled with activity as families set out for Main Street.

All manner of gaily decorated conveyances waited on the outermost road. Nathan led them to an open wagon that was in line before the fire department’s water wagon. It was another twenty-five minutes before all the officials had boarded the buggies and wagons. Once all were in place, the parade began, with the band proudly leading the way.

Men, women and children lined the thoroughfare, cheering and waving. “I never realized there were so many people in Sweetwater,” Ella said.

“A lot of them live on surrounding ranches and farms, plus people come from all the nearby towns for the celebration.”

Once they reached the main thoroughfare, the transformation was breathtaking. Every building along Main Street had been draped in red, white and blue bunting swags that hung from the edges of roofs and railings. American flags flapped in the sunlight.

The musicians were first to break formation and carry their instruments toward another destination.

An enormous grandstand had been constructed at the east end of town, and its covered roof sported patriotic flags. At the forefront stood a podium, draped with more bright bunting. Citizens were already jostling for places to stand at the front of the crowd.

Nathan checked his watch. “Fifteen more minutes. You’ll stand on the platform with me, Ella.” He scanned the boardwalk and storefronts, then waved. “There’s Mrs. Shippen. The children will join her until the speeches are over.”

“I could stay here with them,” she offered.

“Your place is beside me,” he replied with a proud tilt of his head.

Mrs. Shippen looked cheerful wearing a white dress with red piping and a feathered hat. She gathered the children and guided them toward a boardwalk.

Several Indians dressed as Christopher had described stood on the platform and greeted Nathan as he and Ella climbed the newly constructed wooden stairs.

The black-haired men observed Ella with solemn obsidian gazes. Having never seen an Indian up close, these were particularly intimidating in their quilled and beaded shirts and their feathered headdresses. Obviously they were friendly or they wouldn’t be part of the celebration, but she stood close to Nathan all the same. A canvas awning protected them from the sun, with only the foremost point of the podium exposed.

A tall silver-haired man joined them, and Ella was introduced to the mayor and his wife.

The band members, all attired in red jackets and white shirts with blue bow ties, gathered at the side of the platform, placing themselves in order.

Mayor Simpson signaled the band leader, and the first patriotic piece of music burst from the instruments and immediately caught the crowd’s attention. While the musicians played exuberantly, people gathered from all the side avenues and trailed from the stores, filling the street.

The mayor stepped up to welcome everyone and declare the festivities open. He introduced Nathan next, and Nathan took his place, opening a pamphlet he took from inside his jacket.

“One hundred and nine years ago this morning, George the Third was King of Great Britain and Ireland and of the British Colonies in North America. Before the sun set that day the fairest portion of his North American colonists had forsworn their allegiance and declared their independence.”

A cheer rose from the crowd, and Nathan paused until they quieted. “It’s only fitting and proper that on the anniversary of such a memorable day that we should indulge in retrospection and celebrate our liberties.”

Again the people clapped and cried out with excitement.

Ella glanced at the sheaf of handwritten pages on the podium, wondering how long it would take her husband to get through his oration if he was interrupted after each sentence.

Her gaze wandered to Mrs. Shippen and the children to find Christopher attentively watching the Indians, and Robby and another small child looking at something the other boy held.

She had plenty of time to scan the people in the audience and find nearly everyone she knew. Celeste caught her eye and gave her a barely perceptible wave. Ella smiled. She focused on Paul, standing tall in the morning sun without a hat. He wore a pair of faded overalls, apparently ready for the day of games.

He glanced down at Celeste, and Ella noticed that their hands were clasped. He drew hers upward and touched his lips to her fingers in an intimate sign of affection. His wife gave him an adoring smile.

Ella’s heart tripped at the sight. Nathan had declared his love for her. She’d heard him, but she’d put those words from her mind and hadn’t wanted to think about it. Why was that?

Didn’t she believe him? She had no reason not to.

Did she doubt her worthiness? Yes.

Nathan believed he loved her, but he didn’t really know her. He’d fallen in love with the image she’d projected, not the real Ella.

She took her attention back to Celeste and Paul in the crowd. At the time Ella had been perturbed with her for betraying their confidence, but Celeste hadn’t carried the lie into her marriage and based their relationship on a mirage.

Paul loved her, regardless of her past. He would keep the secret, no worries there. She noticed Mildred Evans standing with her son, Jimmy, and noted Phoebe and Richard Crandall in the gathering.

Nathan’s voice carried as he said, “Today we rejoice and congratulate each other that we have lived to see the auspicious opening of another Independence Day, a day of events that commemorates that this generation of Americans have not forgotten the teachings of our fathers.”

Nathan adhered to a strict code of ethics, and that’s what made him the man he was. His sense of duty and of idealism and good judgment were the reasons he stood here today, respected by his peers and all the people of the territory. He would make an excellent governor.

The sense of shame that plagued her draped a pallor over the sunny morning and deflated her mood. She would not be standing on this platform if Nathan knew who she really was.

She would not be standing here if the people of the Wyoming Territory—especially the citizens of Sweetwater—knew the truth about who she was. His acceptance of her had risked all he’d worked for—all he stood for. And she’d led him to the hazard without his knowledge.

She had wanted freedom and a normal life so badly that any means had been acceptable at the time.

The crowd applauded in earnest, cheers and whistles interrupting her thoughts. Nathan had finished his speech. He waved with a broad smile and introduced Mayor Simpson, who would be reading the Declaration of Independence.

The major took the podium and began the reading. Nathan joined her, slipping his hand into hers.

“You were brilliant,” she whispered.

He grinned.

Once the mayor had finished, Reverend Kane addressed the crowd and said a prayer of thanks for their freedom and petitioned God to safely see them through the events of the day.

“I’m heading home to change,” Nathan told her.

“Wait,” she told him. “There’s one more thing you have to stick around for.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see. Stay right here.” She left him at the corner of the grandstand and held her hem while she climbed the stairs.

The other women were gathering, and Mildred supervised getting them into two straight rows. From her place on the riser in the back row, Ella searched the waiting crowd and found Nathan.

Mildred gave a signal, and the pianist behind them played the opening measures. The ladies came in right on time.
“O-oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light.”

The crowd hushed in reverence for the song and the women’s voices raised in three-part harmony. Ella had never participated in anything so monumental or important, and for those moments while she sang her alto harmony, she felt part of something grand. Something wholesome and worthy.

“Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.”

With a catch in her chest and tears in her eyes, she sang the last lines. Their voices trailed away and a full minute of silence elapsed. The moment seemed suspended in sunshine.

Finally, a few at a time, the people in the crowd applauded. The women hugged and congratulated one another on a job well done, and Ella made her way down the stairs to where Nathan waited.

He opened his arms and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Within his embrace the world felt right. Nothing but the larger picture mattered in that moment. Their freedom, their health and their love for each other were all that counted for anything. “Thanks for the surprise,” he said.

She eased away and gave him a smile.

“I’ll meet you in front of the bank in twenty minutes,” he said then.

“I’ll be there.”

She located Mrs. Shippen and gathered the children, then guided them through the dispersing crowd to the other side of the street, where a Cheyenne woman sold trinkets. She bought something for each of the children.

“Did you hear?” Betsy asked, coming up beside her.

“Hear what?”

“Tom Bradbury has had enough of his new wife’s boorish behavior. She’s been staying at the hotel for the past few nights.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “The desk clerk told James Evans that she entertained a guest in her room last night.” She leaned back and glanced around, then finished, “A
male
guest.”

Ella absorbed the information with a dread that refueled her anxiety. Lena’s behavior was likely to start a problem for all the women from Dodge City. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Scandalous is what it is.”

Ella nodded. Yes, the good people of this town were likely scandalized by Lena’s behavior.

“She’s made a fool of poor Tom, who was only looking for a woman of good character and quality.”

Ella’s stomach quivered. “He’s a good man.”

“I haven’t seen him yet this morning,” Betsy added. “He’s probably ashamed to show his face.”

“He has nothing to be ashamed of,” Ella pointed out.

“Except being drawn into a shocking situation,” Betsy replied.

Ella spotted Nathan making his way toward her, being greeted by and shaking hands with townspeople. “Here’s Nathan. Excuse me.”

She’d never seen him dressed in dungarees and a soft cotton shirt before, and she liked his casual appearance.

“Papa!” Christopher called, tugging on his father’s hand. “The mule race is going to start! We hafta go
now!”

“We can’t be late for that,” Nathan agreed. He swooped Robby up onto his shoulders and led the family toward the playing fields and tracks.

The mule trotting race was one of the funniest things Ella had ever seen. After a few feet, one of the mules refused to budge, and no amount of yelling or urging by the youth on its back made a difference. Another animal took a deviant route along the path where the bystanders lined the track. Three others actually trotted, though one mule’s impossibly large rider slowed the animal down considerably.

The winner won a five-dollar purse and his mule was draped with a wreath made of grapevine entwined with clover.

To Christopher’s delight, Nathan entered the one-fourth-mile footrace. Ella and the children stood near the finish line and cheered as he finished third. He accepted his five-dollar prize with a broad grin.

Afterward they bought sandwiches and drinks from a stand and ate in the shade of a grove of trees Nathan said were honey locusts. The fragrant grass was cool and soft beneath them. Christopher pulled a handbill from his pocket and unfolded it. “What time is it? The U.S. Regulars drill is at one o’clock.”

“We have a few minutes.” Nathan glanced at Ella. “It seems we’re not going to miss anything.”

“I wouldn’t want to miss a moment,” she answered with a smile. She’d never experienced an adventure like this. The spirit of goodwill that permeated the community along with the excitement of children and adults alike was contagious.

Firearms reverberated and popping explosions went off regularly. On the grass nearby lay the remains of spent firecrackers.

“Every dog in Sweetwater is hiding under a porch,” Nathan said. Ella had noticed that a few of the nearby horses had been startled by the noise, as well.

“Let’s go,” Christopher urged.

The Regulars marched and fired their rifles into the air with another earsplitting volley. Afterward, the Cheyenne dancers performed, and they were every bit as colorful and entertaining as Christopher had described.

Christopher attempted to climb the greased pole, but came away from the effort disappointed. Nathan gave him his five-dollar winnings for making a good attempt, and the lad’s face brightened. Nathan asked Grace to be his partner in a sack race, and they lagged far behind the others, but the little girl laughed each time she fell and thoroughly enjoyed herself.

“Want to try?” Nathan asked Ella.

“Oh, goodness, no.” She’d seen the others spilling onto the grass with a complete lack of dignity and couldn’t see herself doing the same.

“I’ll snatch a bag so we can practice first,” he told her. “The trick is for me to take smaller strides so you can keep up. Look, Celeste is racing.”

Indeed, Celeste had one leg in a gunny sack as she ran alongside her much-taller husband. Her bonnet fell back, revealing that her red hair had grown out even farther, the black ends she’d tied back, flying loose.

Seeing her reminded Ella of the tentative ribbons that bound her into marriage with Nathan. She came to the conclusion at that moment that she had to tell him everything. She couldn’t live her life waiting for those bonds to come undone and the sky to come crashing down on her. And, she realized, like Celeste, she could no longer lie to the man she loved.

As he stood waiting for her reply, she looked up at him. His eyes twinkled with amusement and the light of challenge. Nathan turned everything she knew about the human race—and about men especially—upside down and sideways. He was truthful, honorable, steady and fair, and she loved him with all of her being.