Unbridled Dreams (11 page)

“Because of signing Miss Oakley?” Knox asked.

Shep nodded. “You guessed it.”

“Is it true you ended up playing to a million people last year?”

“Can’t say for sure,” Shep replied. “But I can tell you that, after New Orleans, the stands were full at every stop—and a lot of it was thanks to Annie’s shooting. She’s a wonder.”

“Is that why Mr. Cody is adding more ladies to the lineup? I met Miss Smith the other day, and she said something about female equestriennes joining the troupe in St. Louis later this month.”

“Seems like you already know a lot about the Wild West,” Shep commented.

“It’s only right for me to keep up with Mr. Cody and his adventures. After all, his fame and fortunes mean a great deal to Lincoln County.” Without a single
ahem
, Knox went on to expound on an idea he had for a series of newspaper articles featuring Nebraska ties to the Wild West. Irma was thinking she should invite Shep to stay when Knox turned to Momma and said, “I know this is rude of me, Mrs. Friedrich—Miss Friedrich—but would you ladies be terribly upset if I took this opportunity to speak with Mr. Sterling further about this idea?”

Glancing at her mother, Irma thought a man would have to be blind not to see that it was anything but all right, even though Momma managed to say, “Of course not,” before snatching the flowers and saying, “I’ll just put these in water.”

“Thank you,” Knox said, and practically dragged Shep toward the front porch.

With a silent plea for help in Irma’s direction, Ella Jane followed Momma down the hall toward the kitchen. Irma excused herself and followed Ella Jane.

Momma had dropped the bouquet on the table, filled a vase with water and was now stabbing the flowers into place, one at a time.

“Let me do that,” Irma said. “You’re going to ruin it.”
Uh oh.

Wrong thing to say.

“Ruin it? Ruin it you say? I’ll tell you what’s ruined—” Momma gestured toward the front of the house.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irma said, and concentrated on the bouquet.

“With your permission, ma’am,” Ella Jane said. “I’ll just go wait by the door. For the rest of the guests.”

“Fine,” Momma snapped. “You do that.”

Irma arranged the bouquet carefully, mindful of the raging silence in the room. Her side was beginning to throb. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that until just now. Placing the last flower in the vase, she sighed. “They really are lovely.” She winced a little as she picked up the vase.

“Where do you think you’re going with that?!” Momma snapped.

“It’ll look nice on the sideboard,” Irma said.

“Put it down.”

Irma frowned. “What?”

“I said, put it down.” Momma touched one of the roses. “The man has no knowledge of social graces. I won’t have your friends snickering about the hidden message in those.” She pointed to the white roses.

“They won’t snicker,” Irma said. “They might be envious, but they won’t snicker. And when it comes right down to it, Momma, I remember your saying that a real lady avoids needlessly hurting others’ feelings. Shep Sterling may not know about the invisible language of flowers, but he will most certainly hear your message loud and clear if these are relegated to the kitchen table.” Irma pleaded. “Please, Momma. He didn’t know we had plans.”

“It doesn’t appear that we do, after all,” Momma said.

“Why would you say that?”

“Have you heard the doorbell? Has anyone else graced us with their presence?” Momma’s eyes glittered with unspilled tears.

Now this is embarrassing,
Irma thought. A full-grown woman crying over a party. Just then Ella Jane and Minnie came rushing in. “We need a pitcher so I can take some punch out front,” Ella Jane said.

At Momma’s confused expression, Minnie said hello and pecked her on the cheek even as she gestured toward the front of the house. “I could see them on the front porch when I drove in. So I headed straight there after hitching Jerry out back. They’re sprawled everywhere listening to Orrin, uh, Mr. Knox and Mr. Sterling talk about the Wild West.”

“They?”

“All fifteen of ’em,” Ella Jane said as she came out of the pantry, crystal pitcher in hand. She winked at Irma. “That cowboy of yours has ’em laughing and hanging on every word.”

Cowboy of . . . mine?
Irma concentrated on a single white rose in the bouquet.

Promising to refill the serving trays, Minnie grabbed a jar of cookies and followed Ella Jane toward the front of the house.

Momma cleared her throat. “Well, what are you waiting for, Irmagard? Join your guests. They’ll be wondering where you are. And take the tray of sandwiches from the sideboard with you. I’ll be out directly with the tarts. It’s a lovely day. If your guests want to enjoy the sunshine on the veranda, there’s no reason to make them stay cooped up inside.”

Stifling a smile, Irma headed through the swinging door, up the hallway, past the empty dining room—where she positioned the roses on the sideboard and procured the sandwich tray—and onto the porch, where her “ruined” luncheon continued until nearly all the refreshments were consumed and Orrin Knox had wrangled a promise out of Shep Sterling to help him get an exclusive interview with the infamous Doc Middleton, who would tour with the coming season’s Wild West.

It would have been a perfect party except for two things. Orrin Knox simply did not get Irma’s hint about driving Minnie home, and Momma was just a hair shy of rude when Shep lingered after all the other guests save Minnie had gone home.

“Our best wishes for a successful season, Mr. Sterling,” Momma said from the doorway. Clearly, she was waiting for Shep to leave.

Shep eased his way out of the chair where he’d been sitting and, pulling his hat on, nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.” With an easy smile and a lingering glance in Irma’s direction that set her cheeks aflame, he descended the front porch stairs and made his way down the path to the front gate, where he’d hitched a bay gelding.

Irma watched as he mounted up and rode away.

“Irmagard!” Momma said from where she stood waiting in the doorway. “Stop staring after him. I declare you’re no better than that brazen Edna Hertz. That girl was practically
hanging
on the man’s arm.”

“The last thing I expected to see when I got home,” Otto said, as he came through the back door, “was my wife up to her elbows in dirty dishes.” He looked around the kitchen. “I see evidence of a successful party, but where’s Irma? Why isn’t she helping you?”

Before Willa could answer, Ella Jane came through the door that led to the front of the house with broom in hand and reported that the front porch had been swept within an inch of its life and all the dining room chairs brought back inside.

“Thank you,” Willa said with a smile. “You’ve done excellent work today, and I know you’re wanting to get ready for your afternoon out with Samuel. You may go.”

“But the dishes—” Ella Jane protested. “Sam will wait.”

“Well, he won’t have to,” Willa said. “I’m just as content as can be cleaning up at my own pace.” She shooed Ella Jane toward her room.

Otto repeated his question. “Why isn’t Irma helping you?”

Willa turned back to her dish washing. “Because I sent her home with Minnie.”

“To the ranch?”

“I told her you and I will drive out tomorrow after church and bring her back to town. I hope you don’t mind.”

Otto shook his head. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m surprised— that’s all. I didn’t expect you to willingly let Irma near the ranch for a long, long while.”

“And I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Minnie. Something happened at the party. I don’t know what, but the dear girl was having a hard time keeping back the tears after everyone was gone. The girls were really very good about helping pick up, but poor Minnie—”

“You know something,” Otto said. “I bet it was Edna Hertz. She was in the bank with her mother the other day, and I could not believe the way she spoke to Pauline.”

Willa looked over her shoulder. “What did she say?”

“Acted as if she were the Queen of England and treated the best cashier I’ve ever had as if she were no more than a scullery maid. If someone was mean to our Minnie, I’ll just bet it was Edna.”

Willa washed another plate. “I’m hardly the confidante of choice for either of those girls, so I really can’t say. But Irmagard’s face lit up when I suggested maybe she’d want to spend the night with her cousin at the ranch. And Minnie actually gave me a grateful hug, so I gathered that for once I did and said the right thing.”

Otto took off his suit coat, slung it over the back of a chair, picked up a dish towel, and began to dry plates as they talked. “Well, Minnie’s upset aside, how did it go?”

“To tell you the truth, the entire event was nearly a debacle.” Willa recounted Shep Sterling’s most untimely arrival. “But Mr. Knox saved the day by heading him outside and steering the conversation to topics Mr. Sterling could discuss.”

“Meaning?”

“All things Wild West,” Willa said, regret sounding in her voice.

“For a moment I had visions of our Irmagard being the brunt of gossip for weeks to come.”

“Why?”

“Well, most young ladies don’t talk about roundups and hoedowns at luncheons,” Willa said.

“Oh, Momma,” Otto intoned, “will you never understand just how famous—and admired—Bill and his performers really are? Shep Sterling’s being at Irma’s party probably set all those feminine hearts to fluttering.”

Willa ignored the comment. “Whatever the cause, everyone lingered for hours. I could hear the laughter even from back here. As you can see, there’s little that wasn’t consumed—although I managed to save two pieces of chocolate cake.”

Otto murmured his appreciation and Willa concluded. “Except for poor Minnie, I would say that, in spite of my reservations, a good time was had by all.” She paused. “I do hope Irmagard can get to the bottom of what upset Minnie so. We must remember to see if there’s anything
we
can do to help.”

Sam arrived to claim Ella Jane. The couple had barely closed the back porch door when Otto laid aside his dish towel and said, “Sit down with me, dear. We’ve something to discuss.”

“Is something the matter?”

Otto put water on to boil for coffee and served up the cake whistling softly as he worked. When the coffee was ready he sat down opposite Willa and asked, “Why is it, Mrs. Friedrich, that whenever I say there’s something we need to discuss, your mind always assumes there’s a problem.”

“I don’t,” Willa protested.

Otto nodded. “Yes. You do. And it has ever been thus.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “It’s all right, dear. I’ve come to accept it as a charming idiosyncrasy.”

“Please don’t cry,” Irma said as Minnie drove the buggy down the trail toward the Mason ranch. “He was just distracted with wanting to talk to Shep.”

It was as if Irma’s words had punched a hole in a dam. Dropping the reins, Minnie sank back and hid her face in her hands. The ancient gelding named Jerry—the only horse on the Mason ranch Uncle Charlie trusted to pull his daughters anywhere—stopped in his tracks. After a few minutes, Minnie quieted. Pulling a handkerchief from her dress pocket she mopped her tears and said, “It’s very sweet of you to say that, but the truth is Orrin Knox just doesn’t have any interest in me at all. It was as if I wasn’t even there today. And if I’m honest, he’s never given me any encouragement. I’ve been living in a stupid, romantic dream—with absolutely no anchor in reality. And frankly, I’m more embarrassed than I am brokenhearted.” She sniffled.

“Orrin Knox didn’t know
anyone
was there today except Shep Sterling. He was intent on getting the interview—just like any good newspaper reporter. And you’re making entirely too much of one afternoon.”

Minnie shook her head. “This isn’t about just one afternoon. Mr. Knox and I have been in the same place dozens of times. Dances, the opera house—the traveling euchre party you invited me to last winter. And I was at Scout’s Rest for the entire day. He never gave me a second glance.”

“You can’t count that day at Scout’s Rest, either,” Irma insisted.

“There was too much going on. He was distracted.”