Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron (27 page)

Priscilla quickly relayed everything she'd
learned from Frank Buchanan to Lady Whittington, who said, "We
shall ride out to the ranch at once and speak to Adam. He said
something about rounding up some of the ranchers for a meeting
there. I'll order the coach be brought around at once and we'll go
out there and see what it's all about. I don't know what Adam
intends to do, but I plan to speak my mind before he does it. And
you will come with me and tell Adam what you've learned from that
man."

"Yes," Priscilla said, with certainty. "I'd
very much like to do that."

The ranch was several miles from town, and as
they rode in the comfortable confines of the Lady Whittington's
town coach, with its velvet drapes, and plush velvet seats, and
door pulls covered with morocco, Lady Whittington wasted no time
turning the conversation from the hanging to the state of affairs
between Priscilla and Adam...

"Adam has been a bear to live with ever since
you left," Lady Whittington said. "He snaps at the children, he
barks at the servants, he paces the floor in his office—I can hear
him down there at night—and he was beside himself with worry about
you yesterday, when he said you were intent on writing an
inflammatory editorial, which you planned to post on the town hall.
The man is in love with you and he has no idea what to do about
it."

"I assure you, Lady Whittington," Priscilla
said, "Adam is most definitely not in love with me. He is concerned
about the interest of the cattlemen, which is why he didn't want me
to write the editorial."

"That's folderol!" Lady Whittington huffed.
"Adam has not acted like this since his wife left him. In fact he
hasn't behaved like this with any other woman, until you came along
to turn his world upside down. I assure you, he is in love with
you, and until he resolves this with you, one way or another, he
will continue to be almost beyond the pale to live with. The
younger children are completely baffled by his behavior, but Trudy
has figured it out, and she's actually quite amused by it. But she
also said she'd like to have your as a step mother."

Priscilla looked at Lady Whittington with a
start. "Trudy said that?"

Lady Whittington nodded. "Trudy is a very
astute young lady, who is aware that you are in love with her
father as well. She is hoping that the two of you will come to the
realization yourselves before it's too late. And those were Trudy's
own words."

"Too late for what?" Priscilla asked.

"Before you walk out on Adam, like his wife
did."

Priscilla stared at Lady Whittington. The
question of why Adam's wife had left him had been niggling her from
the time she'd first learned of it, but she'd never felt that she
was in a position to ask him about it, and he'd never once talked
about his wife, so she imagined it was a sore subject. But Lady
Whittington had given her the perfect opening. "Why did Adam's wife
leave him?" she asked. "He's never said anything about it."

Lady Whittington pursed her lips and let out
a disgruntled, "Harumph," then lifted her chin, and said, "The
woman was never meant to be a wife and mother. Adam was only drawn
to her because of her exceptional beauty."

"I see," Priscilla said, which reaffirmed
that Adam could not possibly be attracted to her after being
married to an
exceptional beauty
. At once, she felt like
covering her face with her hands and hiding in a dark corner.

Lady Whittington reached out and patted her
hand. "No, my dear, you do not see at all. Adam is a much wiser man
now. He has no interest in beautiful women. But at the time, he was
a young foolish man, and she was the lead actress in a theater
company. When she met Adam, she claimed she was ready to give up
the theater to marry him and have a family, and he believed her.
But after Weldon was born, she turned him over to his nanny, barely
having anything to do with him or the girls, and when the theater
group came through on its annual tour, she simply left Adam and the
children and rejoined them. Adam has not heard from her since, and
he's very embittered about marriage."

"I can understand why," Priscilla said, "But
what I don't understand is why he was ready to marry a mail-order
bride."

Lady Whittington shrugged. "He was only doing
it because he needed a step-mother for the children."

"Which is another reason why Adam would not
be interested in me," Priscilla said. "I am not a motherly-type
woman. I have never been around children, I'm past my child-bearing
years, and I want to run my newspaper. I have absolutely nothing to
offer Adam as a wife, and I have no desire to be his mistress."

"That may all be true," Lady Whittington
said, "nevertheless, you're the woman Adam wants in his life, and
the children respect and admire you, and now that they're mostly
grown, they don't need to be watched, and you're the first woman
that's held Adam's interest. I believe that even he is baffled by
it. I find it all rather amusing, even if he is difficult to live
with."

Priscilla said nothing, trying to digest
everything Lady Whittington was telling her, yet not believing Adam
could possibly be in love with her. There was no simply reason. Why
would Adam chose a homely, middle-aged spinster, with nothing more
to offer him than an abundance of bosom, and an unhealthy desire to
share his bed and have him do all the things he'd described? And
certainly she was not the only woman to want to do
that
with
a man as compelling as Adam. Just thinking about him made her body
awaken and her face flush as if it on fire. She pressed her hands
to her cheeks, feeling the heat...

Lady Whittington looked at her, and said,
"It's impossible for a woman to hide her feelings from herself, and
from others. And yes, you are a red as a beet."

Priscilla patted her cheeks. "I don't deny
that Adam affects me in... strange ways," she admitted. "But I have
always been prone to blushing. It's my fair skin."

"Fiddle sticks!" Lady Whittington exclaimed.
"Fair skin has nothing to do with it."

"Well, if Adam has feelings for me and wants
me to be a part of his life," Priscilla said, "then he'll have to
sever his ties with the kind of men who would hang people without
giving them the right to defend themselves in a court of law."

"I agree. And soon we shall see what his
position is, won't we," Lady Whittington said. There was a definite
challenge in her tone, and Priscilla had the feeling that she had
aligned herself with nesters whom she had, until recently, viewed
with condescension. If that were the case, Priscilla hoped Adam
would see things the same way as his mother. But he was a stubborn
man, and he would not readily admit to his mistake in judgment.

After the coachman guided the horses in a
long broad turn in the road, the ranch complex acme into view, and
the coach pulled between two upright wooden supports holding a wide
crossbar, with the words WHITTINGTON RANCH, burned in bold brown
block letters across it. It was another few minutes before they
arrived at the a compound with numerous barns, a large stable,
several bunk houses, corrals and pens and chutes for livestock, and
fences with cattle as far as the eye could see. Just ahead was the
ranch house—a large, rustic log structure, with a long hitching
rail out front that was lined with saddled horses, some still
lathered from what had obviously been a hard ride. Several buggies
were parked in a separate area, and from inside the house came the
sound of loud, agitated voices. A man stood at the front door, arms
folded, a pair of pistols on his hips, as if guarding the
place.

The footman climbed down from the coach and
came around to help Lady Whittington and Priscilla from the
vehicle. Priscilla did not imagine that Adam's mother would attempt
to walk into the house during what appeared to be a gathering of
what were probably the most powerful men in the territory, but she
clearly intended to do just that, saying to Priscilla, "Shall we
see what the scoundrels inside are up to now?"

Priscilla looked at her in surprise. "Then
you really don't believe that the men who hanged the pair were
justified in doing it," she said, as she accompanied Lady
Whittington up the wide bank of steps to a porch that spanned the
front of the house.

"Of course it wasn't justified," Lady
Whittington said. "And Adam will have to state his position on this
if he expects to get my vote." As Lady Whittington approached the
man standing in front of the door, he made no attempt to step
aside. Facing him squarely, Lady Whittington looked up at him and
said, "If you will step aside, sir, my companion and I would like
to see Lord Whittington."

The man didn't budge. "Sorry, Madam, but I
have orders not to let anyone enter."

"I am Lord Whittington's mother!" Lady
Whittington said in a huff. "You will please step aside for us to
pass."

"I am sorry, Madam, but Lord Whittington
instructed me to keep the door barred."

Lady Whittington turned abruptly, marched to
the far end of the porch and beat her small, knotted fist against
the window frame, rattling the window pane, then returned to stand
directly in front of the man guarding the door. A moment later, the
door swept open and Adam stood glaring at her. "What's the meaning
of this mother?" he asked in a tone that held no affection, only
outrage. He glanced at Priscilla, held her gaze for an instant,
then returned to his mother.

"We mean to talk to you," Lady Whittington
said.

"Then you'll have to come back later," Adam
said. "As you can see we're in the midst of a meeting, and no one's
allowed in except members of the Stock Grower's Association."

Priscilla stepped up to stand beside Adam's
mother, and said, "What do you intend to do about what happened?
Look the other way, or take action against the men who hanged Ella
Watson and Jim Averell?"

"We haven't decided yet," Adam said. "In the
meantime, I advise you to return to your place of business, go
upstairs to your rooms, and do nothing until things have settled
down."

"You mean until the whole horrible
incident's forgotten!"
Priscilla snapped. "Well, I refuse to
stand by and do nothing, even if you plan to turn your back on
justice. I have a written statement from Frank Buchanan, who
witnessed the whole thing, and I
will
be printing it in its
entirety in the next issue of
the Town Tattler
, along with
what Gene Crowder and Ralph Cole told us the day we visited. And
I'll also encourage Frank Buchanan to file his written testimony in
court, which he signed before witnesses. As for printing the next
issue of
The Town Tattler
, I managed to round up enough
Readyprint to put out fifty copies, which will be posted around
town. Libby and Abigail are at this moment setting it in type, and
my pressman is preparing to print it as soon as the women are
finished. This time you won't stop me from printing the truth."

"Look," Adam said, in a more conciliatory
tone, "go sit in the coach until the meeting's over, which will be
shortly, and I'll talk to both of you then and give you an idea of
what's happening. The meeting's almost over now."

Lady Whittington pursed her lips and glared
at Adam. "I suppose we have no choice," she said. "Come along,
Priscilla." She marched down the stairs, Priscilla following close
behind.

A few minutes later, as they sat in the coach
speculating about what could be transpiring inside the house,
Priscilla glanced out the window, surprised to see Adam walking out
of the stables, followed by two men, who untied a couple of horses
standing at the hitching rail in front of the stables, launched
themselves into the saddles, and galloped off, leaving a trail of
dust billowing behind. Priscilla looked at Lady Whittington in
alarm. "Adam sent those men off somewhere," she said. "It was
almost like he was sending a warning to someone."

"I believe you're right," Lady Whittington
conceded. "I don't have a good feeling about this, and Adam will
certainly have some explaining to do. And I guess we will hear
about it soon. Men are starting to leave."

The men who started filing out of the house
were dressed as if they'd just come from the Cheyenne Club—some in
dress suits, some in polo attire, others in dinner coats. A meeting
had been hastily called to take immediate action, and Priscilla had
a terrible feeling about what that action could be. After the last
of the horses and buggies had left, Adam came out of the house,
walked up to the coach, and opened the door. "If you ladies want to
come inside now, I'll explain some of what's happening."

Once inside, Adam settled into a large,
leather chair, opposite Priscilla and Lady Whittington, who were
perched together on the sofa, and said, "Of course we don't condone
what the men did, and we're making provisions to see that nothing
like this happens again, but for the time being, I ask both of you
to not do anything that will jeopardize you in any way."

"Like putting out the next issue of
The
Town Tattler
!" Priscilla snapped.

"Everyone's edgy right now," Adam said.
"Tempers are boiling. Men are taking sides and squaring off, ready
for battle. I don't want either of you caught in the middle."

"I don't plan to be caught in the middle,"
Priscilla said. "I plan to go back to my place and collect the
copies of
The Town Tattler
that Jim has printed and start
posting then around town so that maybe the men who killed Ella
Watson and Jim Averell in cold blood will be prosecuted. And this
time there's no way you can stop me, Adam, because by the time I
get back there, Jim will have already begun pulling the first
copies off the press, and Abigail and Libby and I will start
posting them. I wouldn't be surprised if the women haven't started
doing so already."