Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia Watters

Tags: #romance, #wagon, #buggy, #buckboard, #newspaper, #wyoming, #love story, #british, #printing press, #wagon train, #western, #historical, #press, #lord, #lady, #womens fiction

BOOK: Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron

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"All right, then," she said, in annoyance.
"It seems that I'm supposed to be doing something other than
kissing you, but since kissing you is all I have on my mind right
now, you'll have to tell me out right what it is."

Adam bent his head and kissed the side of her
neck, and whispered into her ear, "Don't you want to know why I
decided to sell the ranch?"

Priscilla batted her big hazel eyes several
times, and replied in a breathy voice, "All I want right now is for
you to do what you did in the backroom, but since it seems that I
have to earn your favors... All right. What made you decide to sell
the ranch?"

Adam kissed her once on the lips, and said,
"A stubborn, charming, thoroughly exasperating redhead who
convinced me that I don't want to be party to what's going on
around here, and in fact, want to be a strong voice towards
stopping it—" he kissed her again, this time longer "—and a
newspaper opposing the WGSA is the best way I can think how—" he
moved down to kiss her neck "—but I also have this idea of
incorporating a quarto-size paper that would come out once a week,
something of interest to our female subscribers—" he tugged the
neck of her jersey down and planted a kiss in the hollow of her
throat "—with an ongoing romantic story, and editorials about
women's issues, and columns where women could send in questions—"
he tugged her jersey further down so he could place a kiss on the
swell of her breast "—and I'd want my wife to be in charge of
it."

"Your wife?" Priscilla said, dreamily,
allowing her head to drop back and her chest to rise to meet his
accommodating lips...

Adam stopped what he was doing and took her
face between his hands so she'd have to look at him, and said, "I
have no choice because the woman I happen to want by my side for
the rest of my life is determined to put out such a paper, and
having her in the same building as my paper is the only way I could
think to keep her out of trouble."

Priscilla's face sobered, and the passion
he'd seen moments before had vanished. "Then why did you smash my
printer?" she asked. "You could have moved it over to your
place."

"I could have," he admitted, starting with
her lips again, finding them responding once more to his kisses,
"but I had to stop you from what you were about to do, for your own
good, and mine." He stopped what he was doing and looked at her,
and in her eyes he saw his future... changeable as her frame of
mind, exciting as the dark pupils expanding and contracting as she
held his gaze, the distinct glint of passion shining only for him,
and said, "You see how selfish I am, my love? I want your
beautiful, unharmed body in my bed every night of our lives, and I
can't allow anything to happen to it... or you."

"That's fine, Adam," she said, "but what
about my press?"

He kissed her soundly. "I'll be setting you
up with more modern equipment."

"But I don't want more modern equipment,"
Priscilla said between kisses. "I want what I had. With another
Stanhope press and Jim as my pressman, I can put out
The Town
Tattler
with the help of four women without any fuss, and I can
make Banner Headlines and insert engravings and wood cuts. And the
building I have is just fine."

"I could argue that," Adam said. "Your
building's sagging from rotting floor joists, termites have invaded
the walls, and the only reason the roof doesn't leak is because
there's so much moss on it the rain can't get through. Besides,
your women have left you."

"I know that," Priscilla clipped, "but I'm
sure I can find others willing to work for me. It only takes five
of us and Jim to do the job."

"Sweetheart," Adam said, "I'll get you
whatever you want... fix up the old building if that's what makes
you happy, and get you another old Stanhope press like the one you
had. But I'll be setting
The Plainsmen Review
using a
Mergenthaler Linotype Composing Machine, like the
New York
Tribune's
is using. With it, one operator alone is machinist,
type-setter, justifier, type-founder, and type-distributor. Setting
and casting type in leaden lines are done by pressing keys on a
board much like on a typewriting machine."

"You don't understand," Priscilla said, in a
weary voice. "My dream was for
The Town Tattler
to be a
newspaper written and printed by women, for women. With your
machine there would be no need for any women at all."

"Of course there would be," Adam insisted.
"You'd need women journalists to go out and find your stories, and
to write and edit them. And you could hire a female engraver to
prepare the plates for illustrations. But with the linotype machine
I've ordered, you can put all your time and effort into finding
stories and writing editorials.
The Town Tattler
will still
be set up like you want, but there will be no limit to the number
of subscribers you can handle. Your paper will have the capability
of being distributed in every town in Wyoming and beyond. But
you're the newspaper woman and I'm just the fellow who's in love
with you and wants to make you happy. All I ask is that you leave
the politics to me."

"I'll happily do that," Priscilla said, her
fingers moving to the top button of her jersey, if that's what it
takes to get you to finally pay attention to me and my needs."

"I thought I just did that," Adam said,
giving her his most innocent look. But when he saw her bodice
parting to reveal an expanse of soft, white skin, he said, "Don't
go any further with that right now, my love, but I'll be right
back..."

Before Adam went about the business of
thoroughly and completely satisfying his wife-to-be, he went about
the business of giving the servants the afternoon off, except for
Aubrey, who was already in the process of filling the bathtub with
water before preparing his bed with fresh linens. After that was
done, he returned for Priscilla, who was waiting breathlessly for
the deflowering to begin and scooped her up in his arms.

As he carried her up the stairs, she kissed
the side of his neck and said in an eager voice filled with
passion, "I thought his day would never come, Lord
Whittington."

"Neither did I, Miss Phipps," Adam replied,
cuddling her closely. "Neither did I."

###

AUTHOR'S NOTE
: The hangings of Ella
Watson and Jim Averell actually took place. Four of the six men who
carried out the lynchings were members of the Wyoming Stock Growers
Association. A Grand Jury convened on August 25, 1889, but before
witnesses could testify, they either died or disappeared. Gene
Crowder, Ella's adopted son, disappeared, never to be seen again.
Frank Buchanan also disappeared before the hearing. Ralph Cole was
found dead on the day of the hearing, possibly poisoned. Dan Fitger
never came forward, but later told his story to his family. With no
witnesses to testify, charges were dropped against the six
cattlemen, and Albert Bothwell acquired both Ella Watson and Jim
Averell's homesteads. However, the deaths of Jim and Ella inspired
homesteaders and small ranchers to stand up to the Wyoming Stock
Growers Association, and in 1892, a full-scale range war erupted in
Johnson County, which effectively ended the era of the cattle
barons, allowing the homesteaders to live in peace.