Wyoming Wildfire (49 page)

“I thought there were other, more serious reservations.”

“I used to think so too, but it all came down to believing him. I couldn’t say that I trusted him in every other way except this one.”

“Admittedly, there is a contradiction there.”

“I knew all along that I trusted him, but I was afraid to believe him, afraid that I would be hurt again.”

“And now you feel reassured?”

“Yes, because he never hurt me, I hurt myself?.”

“I do hope your aunt is following your argument, because I feel I’m losing the thread of your reason.”

“Just listen,” Sibyl entreated impatiently. “Burch never violated my trust, I just thought he did. I saw temptation and assumed that he had succumbed.”

“Was there not more evidence than that?” inquired Louisa, who knew her niece better than her niece thought.

“Yes,” Sibyl confessed incurably honest, “but I misunderstood that, too.”

“If your understanding has been so consistently at fault, why do you feel compelled to trust it now?” Henry asked with something close to sarcasm.

“I
told
you, I had never met any man I could trust, and I was afraid to trust Burch.”

“That seems an unnecessarily rude remark to make in your uncle’s presence,” remarked Louisa, “not to mention what it says about your father and grandfather.”

“You’re not trying to understand, either of you. I’m not talking about my family. I’m talking about people like Moreton and Kendrick, even the girls I grew up with like Clara Maynard, who claims to be my best friend but can’t wait until my back is turned before she starts spreading gossip about me. I thought Burch was like all those people, but he’s not. He’s open, frank, and honest. All of the West is like that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They have no past, only the present and future. They are what you see, and they take you at face value, expecting you to do the same with them. There is no effective law, and a man is known by his word; he is loyal to his friends and the outfit which employs him, no matter what.”

“You make them sound almost noble,” her uncle said impatiently.

“They are, and very gallant, too. I almost didn’t see it.”

“All this is well and good,” interrupted her aunt. “I’m quite glad to hear that these men are honorable and gentlemanly, but that does not change anything. You’re not going back.”

“Yes, I am,” Sibyl said, defiantly facing her aunt. “There’s no one who can stop me.”

“I can. Henry is your guardian and you’re underage.”

Sibyl stared blankly at her aunt. “I don’t have a guardian. I’ve always dealt with the lawyers about everything myself.”

“Knowing you, we decided it was best that way, but everything had to be countersigned by your uncle.”

Unreasoning fury surged through Sibyl’s brain. “When do I have control of my own affairs?”

“Not until you’re twenty-five.”

“Do you mean to tell me that I have to ask your permission for everything I do for the next five years?”

“Legally, yes.”

“Did my father know this?”

“Of course. He’s responsible for it.”

“Damn him!” Sibyl cursed, jumping up from her chair. “Why didn’t he have the courage to tell me?”

“Sibyl!” exclaimed Louisa, outraged. “I will
not
have such language in my house, and certainly not from a female.”

“Then you should have told my father you would have nothing to do with his infamous scheme. You must have known I would hate it.”

“That’s why he didn’t tell you. He really had no choice. No girl can be left alone.”

“I won’t have it. I will not be hedged about and ordered around again. That’s why I left Virginia in the first place. Why didn’t you try to stop me the first time?”

“I almost did, but I was sure you would come back as soon as you saw what the West was really like, and I
thought
Augusta would be there to look after you.”

“And instead she slipped her leash and married Lasso. That must have been a surprise.”

“Greater than you’ll ever know.”

“Well, I’ll not be the one to return home meekly and sit by the fire, hands in my lap, money safe in the bank, until some
man
comes along to take possession of both.”

“You can’t leave without my permission,” Henry spoke up, “and you don’t have it.”

“Are you prepared to stop me?”

Henry looked uncertainly at his wife. “I am prepared to cut off your money.”

That won’t be enough. I’ve already paid for my ticket, and I have all I need for the trip. You’re going to have to stop me by force, to lock me in my room. Are you prepared for that? If you follow me to the train station, I’ll kick and scream until you have me arrested. Only a jail will keep me here.” She had spoken so vehemently she was shaking, but no more than her listeners.

“You want to go enough to do all that?” Louisa asked softly.

That and more. I let my happiness slip out of my hands once. This may be the only chance I have to retrieve it. Please, God, don’t let it be too late already.”

“You would leave without money and without our approval?”

“I’d leave with nothing more than I stand up in,” she declared.

The look of determination Louisa knew so well was firmly fixed to her face. It was clearly no use to appeal to her, and force would only result in a scandal more ugly and terrible in its ramifications than marriage to an unsuitable man.

“Please, Aunt,” Sibyl begged, suddenly changed from a raging virago to a pleading child, “don’t make me leave you like this. Can’t you see that I must go?”

“No, but I see that you are going, and maybe it is best that you do. If you could do the things you say, then you are not fit to five in Virginia. Maybe Wyoming
is the
place for you.”

“Please, don’t!”

“I have never meant to stand in the way of your happiness, I only wanted to protect you. I have never understood you, but I always loved you.”

“And I never understood you. I can’t see how you can submit to all this—this tyranny.”

There is no submission. I want to be where I am.”

“What a strange family. My mother died to escape, I ran away, and you rise above it all.”

“Not at all. These are my people. They’re your people too.”

“I guess that’s the problem. You see, I never felt like they were my people. I always felt like an outsider, a reject. Maybe everyone who goes to Wyoming feels rejected and is looking for some place to call home.” Her temper had cooled and she was feeling sad at leaving her aunt without the prospect of return.

Louisa regarded her steadily for a long time. No one spoke, not even Jessica, who had listened to this whole exchange with her eyes bugging out and her jaw sagging. Finally the silence was broken by Henry.

“I don’t know about you, Louisa, but I’ll have no part in forcing her to stay here, not for any trust Stuart talked me into taking on.”

“No. I wouldn’t ask it of you. If she insists on leaving, we have to let her go.”

The last of Sibyl’s trunks was stowed in the wagon and sent off to the train station. She turned back to the house and one last interview with her aunt. She dreaded it. Louisa had said no more after agreeing that she would not stop Sibyl from returning to Wyoming, but her silence was awful. Her uncle’s complaints and Jessica’s questions had been easier. Sibyl realized that her aunt’s opinion was the only one she cared for. She would not let Louisa’s disapproval keep her from going back to Burch, but she didn’t want to leave on bad terms. This was her family, and it was important to her that there be no breach.

“Are you really leaving today?” young Henry asked. “Mama said you were.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Do you need anyone to go along to protect you?”

“Not this time,” Sibyl said, smiling despite her anxiety, “but maybe when you’re a little older, your mother will let you come for a visit.” Sibyl suddenly remembered something. “Would you like to have a keepsake that belonged to a real cowboy?”

“Yes,” he said, his face bright with anticipation.

“Come here,” Sibyl said as she opened her purse. “You can use this when you go riding, but not here in town.” She pulled out a bright red handkerchief with blue polka dots.

“What’s it for?” he asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“It’s a handkerchief. No cowboy goes anywhere without one. They use it to keep the dust out of their lungs and the sweat out of their eyes.”

“Ugh!” Jessica uttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly clean,” Sibyl added.

“Can I come visit, too?” begged Priscilla, not the least bit deterred by fears of dust or sweat.

“What would you want to see out there?” asked Jessica with all the disdain she could assume.

“That will be quite enough, children,” said Louisa, entering the hall from the back. “Kiss your cousin good-bye. It will probably be some time before you see her again.”

“That is, unless you’re back within the month,” observed her uncle.

Sibyl busied herself kissing her cousins and did not answer. Then suddenly the hall was empty, and she found herself alone with her aunt, having no idea what to say.

“I think you should have this,” Louisa said, handing Sibyl a small package, loosely wrapped. Sibyl quickly opened the folded paper to discover her grandmother’s diary. “You and she appear to be so much alike it seems only natural that you should keep it. Maybe you can give it to your daughter.”

“When she causes me as much trouble as I’ve caused you?” Sibyl asked, choking.

“You’ve never been a trouble to me. I worry about you and probably will always do so, but I’ve never known any woman more capable of taking care of herself. I thought that maybe some day your daughter would have a difficult decision to make. Maybe the diary can help her as it has helped you.”

“Thank you,” Sibyl said, impulsively throwing her arms about her aunt’s unbending neck. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“No. I’m content with my life and so are my daughters. The Gershom desire for adventure seems to have skipped my branch of the family. Maybe it’s just as well, since you and Augusta seem to have such a large share.”

“Dear Aunt Louisa, Aunt Augusta is even more conventional than you. No one was shocked more than she when Lasso fell in love with her, and she with him. I don’t think she’s forgiven herself yet. I’m the only real maverick in the family, the only one to disgrace you.”

“You’re no disgrace, and you know you’re always welcome here. Now you go to your young man. I don’t understand how you can throw away your heritage like this, and I utterly deplore the manner in which this whole affair has been conducted, but when all is aid and done, it is not my life, and I don’t feel I have a right to dictate what yours should be.”

“You’re generous.”

“No, I’m not. If I could keep you here, I would. I have frequently reproached myself for letting you go in the first place, but there’s nothing I can do now except give you my blessing and hope for the best.”

“Is there anything you want me to tell Augusta for you?”

For a moment Louisa’s eyes grew hard, but then they softened and a reminiscent smile grew in them.

“Wait just a moment,” she said, and quickly ascended the stairs. She was back within minutes with another small package. “These were hers, and I want her to have them,” Louisa said, opening a small wooden box to reveal a baby’s silver cup, spoon, and teething ring. “Maybe she’ll have some use for them now.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“If you both must marry such hulking men, there’s no reason why the family shouldn’t realize some benefit from it. I’m counting on a half-dozen strapping nephews.”

“I want all six.”

“Don’t be greedy.” Louisa smiled, but then her expression turned serious. Sibyl had never seen her look so vulnerable. “I love both of you,” she said at last, her voice wavering slightly. “Please be careful and don’t forget to write me once in a while.”

“I mean for you to come visit. I know Aunt Augusta does, too. You can’t get rid of us that easily.” She smiled through her tears, relieved to see that Louisa had regained her habitual control.

“Maybe I shall, but not if you intend to threaten me with Indians and wild cows. I’m too old to be thrown on a horse and expected to ride to safety.”

Chapter 33

Even before the Elkhorn came into view, the muscles across Sibyl’s shoulders grew stiff with tension. This was so unlike her first arrival; this time she was almost afraid to reach the worn steps at the back of the house. She had begun her journey confident that Burch would welcome her with open arms; now she wasn’t so certain. After all she’d said, after the number of times she had refused his painfully managed entreaties, would he be so forgiving? Would she forgive him if their places were reversed? Sibyl shuddered.

She
hadn’t
forgiven him. How could she expect him to do more for her than she had done for him? Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking.