Wayward Lady Read online

  Lydia had sighed and said, “I know, dear. It does seem foolish, but we have to live in the world the way it is. Young ladies are not supposed to…”

  “Shoot! I’m sick and tired of hearing about what young ladies are not supposed to do.”

  “Please, Suzette, do not say shoot.” Lydia’s brow wrinkled.

  “You see?” Her daughter threw up her hands. “Everything I do is wrong to you. Mother, I love you, but I’m very much afraid that you’re still clinging to the days when you were a Southern belle in Louisiana. All you did all day long was drink lemonade under the shade of the magnolia trees while the darkies pulled cotton and serenaded you. But this is Texas! It’s a land of relentless sun and wind and sometimes it’s hard to find any kind of shade, much less an old magnolia. This is a prairie so vast Daddy has to ride sometimes thirty and forty miles to tend a sick child. This is a frontier so wild the Indians still roam at will, the women right alongside the men, and you can bet your mint julep they don’t ride sidesaddle. My Lord! Wild longhorn cattle and mustangs still cross my path when I ride a few miles from the house. Everywhere I look there’s grand adventure, and yet I’m not supposed to partake of it!” Suzette put her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, and continued. “Don’t you know if I had my way I’d be going on the cow hunts and trail drives? Can you imagine how cheated I feel at being left out simply because I’m a woman? Why, if I could, I’d…”

  “Suzette. Suzette, please,” Lydia interrupted. “All I asked was that you stop whistling. I’m sorry I mentioned it. Perhaps you’re right. I expect you to behave the way my friends and I behaved. You do live in a completely different time.” She took her daughter’s hand and smiled at her. “I’m sorry you feel cheated. It never occurred to me that you would want to go on trail drives. I can think of nothing more unpleasant than riding hard all day behind hundreds of bawling, stubborn long-horns while the wind and dirt blow and dust gets in your nose and mouth, to say nothing of your hair and your clothes. I would think it far from enjoyable to sleep out on the hard ground in hot and cold weather and bathe in cold rivers and streams. Take a look at Nate and some of the other old drovers, darling. Their tired, weathered faces should give you some idea of what their occupation does to them. Would you want to look like that?”

  Frowning, Suzette reluctantly shook her head.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” her mother continued. “You’re so pretty, Suzette. Let’s leave the cow hunts and drives to the men. Believe it or not, in time you will find that being a woman can be quite rewarding. You’re much too young now, but in time the young men will start to court you, and when they do, you’ll be very glad you’re a woman. A well-mannered, pretty, soft, dainty lady.”

  Unconvinced, Suzette mumbled, “I suppose so, but…”

  “But what, dear?”

  “Can’t I please just whistle until the young men start calling on me, Mother?”

  Dissolving into laughter, Lydia pulled Suzette to her and hugged her tightly. “If it means so much to you, I guess so. But, please, darling, don’t let it become too much of a habit. Bad habits are often very difficult to break.”

  That had been over a year ago and her mother was right. Sometimes she didn’t even realize that she was doing it. Like this morning, when Nate, the only hired hand on the Foxworth ranch, stuck his head in the door of the tackroom and grinned at her. “You’re getting mighty good at your whistling, Miss Suzette.”

  Suzette smiled at the grizzled old cowboy. “How are you this morning, Nate?”

  Pushing his battered Stetson to the back of his graying head, he took the saddle from her, carried it outside, and slung it onto the back of the waiting mare. “Tolerable, I guess,” he called over his shoulder. “Just tolerable. My rheumatism is acting up this morning.”

  Following close on his heels, Suzette said, “Shoot! Nate, I’ll tell you what. I know Daddy makes you trail me every time I go riding. He’s sound asleep by now and he’ll never know the difference. Why don’t you go on back to bed?” She gave him a winning smile.

  Pale, watery eyes squinted at her from a sun-creased face. “You know I can’t do that, Miss Suzette.”

  Sighing, she nodded. “No, I guess not. In that case, why don’t you ride along with me? I’ll teach you to whistle the new song Luke taught me. It’s very pretty, but it’s real sad. It’s called ‘Oh Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie.’ Nate, it’s a true story about a drover that died on the trail to Abilene. He knew he was dying and he begged his fellow drovers not to leave him out there on the desolate prairie. He died and his friends had no choice; they couldn’t bring him back home. They buried him out there miles from anywhere, but they felt so bad about it, they wrote the song and dedicated it to the cowboy’s memory. Don’t you think that is the most romantic, beautiful, saddest story you’ve ever heard in all your life?” She clasped her hand to her breasts, momentarily lost in the sad drama of the song.

  She looked at Nate. Tears shone in the tired old eyes and he sniffed. “If you’re gonna tell any more tales that sad, I’m not gonna ride with you, Miss Suzette. I’ll just stay back and trail you.”

  “Oh, Nate.” Suzette leaned close and kissed his wrinkled cheek. “I’m sorry. Saddle your horse. I’ll tell you some funny stories Luke told me.” With a laugh and a toss of her blond head, she mounted Glory, her big palomino mare.

  Finding it impossible to understand how her mood could change so rapidly, Nate scratched his chin and went for his horse. Minutes later he was spurring his chestnut gelding to catch up with the beautiful young girl galloping ahead of him, her whistling piercing the quiet of the gently rolling prairie.

  2

  Suzette swept into the parlor that evening at half-past seven. Magically transformed from the tall coltish figure in worn buckskins, she was now the essence of femininity in her new blue cotton dress. Delicate white shoulders and high rounded breasts were accentuated by the low bodice of the gown. A long, tight waist gave way to ruffles that began at the hips and tumbled seductively to the floor. On her feet, soft kid shoes laced with ribbon peeked from under the long dress when she walked.

  Her thick blond hair had been swept atop her head; her mother told her the style would be attractive, that it would showcase her long, swanlike neck and lovely throat. Tiny sprigs of bridal breath had been added to the silky blond curls arranged attractively at her crown. Suzette knew she was pretty. She felt pretty; she felt grown up. Still, she wanted to hear it.

  Blake stood at the cold fireplace, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. He turned as she entered. “Suzette…I…Suzette…” He stopped trying to talk and looked at her as she smiled brilliantly and turned around for his perusal.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “You take my breath away, Suzette. Surely you must be the most beautiful young lady in all of Texas.”

  Pleased with his compliment, she went to him and kissed his cheek, then put her arm through his. “Thank you, Daddy. Most of all, thanks for being here for my party.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t have to miss it, sweetheart. The meeting with General Sherman was postponed until tomorrow night since the general won’t be arriving until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “My thanks to the Yankee general.” She grinned and hugged his arm.

  “Darling, he’s not a Yankee general. He’s a respected general in the Army of the United States, of which even the great state of Texas is a part.”

  “Maybe so, but I’ve heard you say more than once that Washington knows little about what goes on down here and cares even less.”

  “Suzette, dear, sometimes I say foolish things; I wish you wouldn’t concern yourself with them. Young ladies shouldn’t…”

  Releasing his arm, she stepped away from him. “You sound just like Mother. I’m disappointed. Do you want me to be some simpering female only interested in learning how to make lye soap or crochet or beat rugs? That’s boring, Daddy, admit it. Would you want to spend your time thinking about such dreary things
?” Her hands were on her hips.

  “You’ve got me, I’m afraid. But, darling, you’re being unfair. Those pursuits have taken up very little of your time. Seems to me most of your days are spent on Glory’s back or writing in that journal of yours or poking around in my library—that is, when you aren’t in my office watching me stitch up cuts or dig bullets out of cowboys.” He paused. “In fact, honey, you’ve spent so much time assisting me, you could almost be my partner.”

  “It’s fascinating! I love to watch you work. Aren’t you proud of me? Not once have I ever gotten sick. I’m real tough, aren’t I, Daddy?”

  Blake laughed aloud. “Darling, let’s say you’re strong. That sounds better.” He reached into his breast pocket and took out a small box. “Now, before the guests arrive, I want to give you your present.” He held it out to her.

  “Oh, Daddy, thank you!” Her eyes danced as she opened the black velvet box and looked at the tiny gold locket resting on a bed of white satin. In the center of the gold locket, a tiny sapphire sparkled. Throwing her arms around her father’s neck, Suzette clutched the necklace in her palm and shouted, “I love it! I shall wear it forever. I’ll never, ever take it off. When they come to bury me, I’ll still be wearing my beautiful gold locket!”

  Chuckling, Blake patted her slim waist. “Sweetheart, you’re being just a bit dramatic, don’t you think? You don’t have to wear it forever. Your mother and I just thought it was pretty and wanted you to have it. Happy sixteenth birthday, sweet Suzette.”

  “And happy birthday from me, too, darling.” Lydia came into the room, looking almost as lovely as her young daughter, in a dress of deep rose. She smiled at Suzette and gave her a warm hug. “I believe it’s time, Suzette. The Brands’ carriage just pulled up. Would you like to go out and invite them in?”

  Suzette fairly flew from the room. As the front door slammed loudly, Blake and Lydia looked at each other and smiled. “Think she’ll ever grow up, Blake?”

  Pulling his wife close to his side, he grinned down at her. “I hope not, darling. I’d like to keep her just as she is forever. A sweet, beautiful child who’s never been touched by any heartache or tragedy.”

  Straightening Blake’s narrow string tie, Lydia looked up into his soft warm eyes. “You’re a sweet man, Blake Foxworth. Maybe our Suzette will be lucky and have a life as good as ours.”

  Blake smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. Before he could speak, a high, shrill scream came from the front porch. Blake and Lydia hurried outside.

  Suzette was on her knees, mindless of her new party dress, examining a beautiful hand-tooled leather saddle. Austin Brand, his arm around his wife, Beth, stood looking down at Suzette, smiling broadly. Little Jenny Brand held her father’s hand and giggled. The expensive saddle was the Brands’ birthday present to Suzette.

  Suzette’s screams finally ceased and she leaned over the shiny new saddle and kissed its smooth surface.

  “I think she likes it.” Lydia smiled at the tall, handsome Austin Brand.

  “It’s hard to tell.” He grinned and shook Blake’s hand. Lydia put her arm about Beth’s slim waist and drew her toward the door.

  “I’ll carry the saddle out back for you, Suzette,” Austin offered as he helped her to her feet.

  She clasped Austin’s big right hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much, Mr. Brand. You’re too kind.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He touched a blond curl at her cheek. “And, by the way, you look very pretty and quite grown up. Play your cards right and you might get that curly-headed cowboy that works for me to dance with you.”

  “Oh, you!” She blushed and pushed him away. Then she turned and squealed loudly, “Anna!” She jerked up her skirts and ran lightly across the yard to greet her best friend.

  Pretty Anna Norris, her dark, shiny curls bobbing, bolted out of the carriage driven by a household servant and embraced the radiant Suzette before thrusting a present at her.

  “Is your Luke coming?” Anna inquired.

  “He should arrive any minute!” Suzette said excitedly. “Come on inside. I’ll open my present.”

  Looking as if he had scrubbed his boyishly handsome face to a permanent pink, Luke Barnes clutched his broad-brimmed Stetson as he stepped onto the porch. Suzette answered the door and suddenly felt very shy and tongue-tied. He was so good-looking. His emerald eyes sparkled, and his curly red hair was so clean it glistened in the last rays of the setting sun. He wore a starched, snow-white shirt open a couple of buttons at his throat. His dark trousers were snug over his long, muscular legs, and his boots were highly polished. A silver belt buckle gleamed at his waist.

  Suzette was certain there could be no other twenty-one-year-old cowboy in Texas quite so handsome. Her eyes went to Luke’s mouth, which was curved into a wide grin. Butterflies took flight inside her. Before the evening was ended, she would feel those warm, full lips on hers. Those long, powerful arms would hold her tightly in the moonlight, and that curly red hair would be hers for the touching. Suzette loved everything about this tall, smiling man, but his beautiful hair was her big weakness. Even now, shyly looking up at him while her family stood behind her in the hall, she could hardly keep from reaching up to feel its pleasing texture. She longed to wind the curls around her fingers. Never had she seen such beautiful hair on a man.

  “Luke, if Suzette’s not going to ask you in, I will.” Blake Foxworth stepped up beside his daughter while she stood admiring the tall youth.

  “Thank you, Dr. Foxworth.” Luke shook hands with Blake and grinned.

  The party was a success. By nine o’clock, the rug had been rolled up and many pairs of booted feet and dainty slippers tapped rhythmically on the wooden floors. The three best fiddlers in Jack County kept the music lively, to the delight of the breathless dancers.

  Baked hams, fried chicken, potato salad, roastin’ ears, cornbread, and a half dozen other dishes filled the sideboard in the dining room. On a pedestal table not far away, the big birthday cake sat amidst a dazzling arrangement of Texas wildflowers.

  Suzette’s face was flushed with excitement as she spun around the room in Luke’s arms. When the tune came to an end and everyone clapped for more, Suzette, her hand to her throat, looked up at her tall partner, who was also gasping for breath. Wordlessly, Luke took her hand in his and they made their way through the couples and out into the hall. Seeing Suzette’s father engaged in conversation with his employer, Austin Brand, Luke’s face reddened and he hastily explained to both men, “Mr. Foxworth, sir, Mr. Brand. Suzette, well, she’s a little overheated, what with all the dancing. I thought we’ll just step outside for a breath of air.”

  “A wise decision.” Blake Foxworth smiled at the young couple, and Austin Brand nodded.

  The two watched Suzette and Luke slip onto the porch and hurry down the front steps into the night. “He’s a fine boy, isn’t he, Austin?”

  “One of the best,” the big rancher agreed. “Luke’s smart, too. For a kid of twenty-one, he’s one of the best hands I’ve ever had work for me. I’m fifteen years older than Luke, and I swear at times I feel he could teach me things about raising cattle and running a ranch. That boy’ll have something one of these days, mark my words.”

  “I hope so, Austin. Suzette tells me she’s in love with him.”

  “Little Suzette? Why, she’s a baby. I hope they’ll wait a few years. If not, looks like I’ll have to see about building some kind of living quarters over on my place. I know she—”

  Austin was interrupted by his five-year-old daughter pulling on his trousers leg. “Daddy, Mommy said to tell you to get me a plate of food. I’m hungry.”

  Blake and Austin smiled at the small girl with long, dark curls. “Come with me, Jenny.” Blake put out his hand. “Let me fix you a plate.” He picked her up and Jenny put her arms around his neck, looking over his shoulder at her father. “I’ll bet you like strawberries and cream, don’t you?” Blake headed for the dining room.

  “Uh
-huh. And chicken and biscuits and cake and milk.” Jenny’s dark curls danced as she nodded her head, naming all her favorite foods.

  “That’s good, because I think Mrs. Foxworth prepared enough food to feed all the troops at Fort Richardson.”

  Austin Brand looked on fondly, a drink in his big hand, as the slender doctor bore Jenny away. If not for Doc Foxworth, he reflected, the pretty little girl might not be at Suzette’s birthday party. She might not be alive.

  Austin’s wife, Beth, had gone into labor with Jenny too early. Beth, in great pain, had clutched at Austin’s big hands. “Austin, help me, please.” Her lips were blue, and perspiration poured from her pale, drawn face.

  Austin had soothed her, then shouted for Kate, the housekeeper, to summon Tom Capps. In minutes, the cowboy was riding fast across the prairie to waken Dr. Foxworth. Pausing only long enough to pull on his trousers and grab the saddlebags with his medicines and instruments, Blake was up on the horse behind Austin’s ranch foreman and on his way to aid the suffering Beth within minutes.

  When he saw the frail woman whose agony was so great, Blake smiled calmly at her and at Austin. “Don’t you worry, Beth.” He smoothed a dark lock of hair from her cheek. “It’s a little early, but that’s no cause for alarm.” Turning to Austin, he said evenly, “Why don’t you go have a drink? If Beth and I need you, we’ll call.” He patted Austin’s broad back and, reluctantly, Austin released his wife’s cold hand and went to the door. There he turned and smiled at Beth.

  “Doc, you take care of her. She’s very precious to me.”

  The sun was peeking through the tall windows of the library. Austin, his white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his massive chest, long sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms, was still waiting. His beard had begun to make a shadow on the lower half of his square-jawed handsome face. His eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue. He ran a shaky hand through his disheveled blond hair, then rubbed his eyes.

  Austin had walked the floor all night. Half a dozen times he had gone up the stairs. Each time he’d begged to be allowed inside, and each time the housekeeper, a kind, stout woman with thin gray hair and pale blue eyes, had come out and told him gently that it wouldn’t be too much longer, that he should just be patient.