A Cheyenne Celebration (The Sweet Cheyenne Quartet) Page 3

But the person at the table that looked most haunted at the casual mention was Nate. Serena always thought he had lovely hazel eyes, but now she’d caught the positively tortured look in them before he turned away. She wondered if he missed Wendy more than he wanted the rest of his family to know.

  Years ago, the other girl had told Serena that Nate was going to marry her, whether he knew it or not. They’d giggled over the thought—Wendy and Nate were practically siblings!—but Serena had respected the claim enough to never consider Nate as a possible beau. And it had been difficult, as he’d grown into a fine figure of a man; lithe and sinewy rather than burly like his brother. He still wore his dark hair long, and when it wasn’t pulled back he looked just like the Indian his grandmother had been. And something about Wendy’s absence was painful to him.

  “Nate?”

  Hazel eyes darted towards her, and then away. He cleared his throat. “Speaking of marriage, though, Cam MacLeod rode over here a few weeks ago.”

  “Nate!” Molly scolded. “We weren’t going to tell her about that.”

  He shrugged. “She has a right to know that he’s interested in courting her.”

  “She knows!” Aunt Agnes’ shriek was positively gleeful. “He came wooing the other day, and—”

  “He kissed her!” Her sister interrupted to impart that juicy bit of gossip.

  “Oh, did he?” Ash suddenly sat forward in his chair, and Serena blushed.

  “Yes, but it was fine.”

  “Just fine?” Molly’s brows rose, and she put her hand gently on her husband’s forearm. Ash sat back again.

  “Didja kiss him back?” Peter’s question would have been impertinent had they not been like family, and Serena was blushing too hard to correct his grammar. His mother scolded him anyhow, though.

  Agatha harrumphed. “She most certainly did not. She feels nothing for that course lout.”

  “Agatha Marie! A few hours ago you said that he was a fine example of manhood.”

  Aunt Agatha turned her nose up at her sister’s inconvenient memory. “Be that as it may, he’s still a course lout, kissing our Serena. And you heard her; she said the kiss was ‘fine’. Manly or not, obviously she’s not interested in his kisses.”

  Serena attempted to make peace. “I said it was ‘fine’, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

  Molly and Ash chuckled, and her aunts looked smug. “If the kiss was ‘fine’, sweetie,” Molly reached out, and her husband twined his fingers through hers, “Then it wasn’t meant to be. A real kiss would be much more than fine.”

  Serena couldn’t help but be curious. Her aunts had never had these sorts of conversations with her, because they were as inexperienced when it came to men as she herself was. “How?”

  “Well….” Molly blushed slightly and looked at Ash, who cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. “When you share a kiss with someone special, you just… know. It’s difficult to describe, but something… magical passes between you.” Annie, Molly, and Serena all sighed together.

  “Aaaaaand that’s my cue to leave.” Nate pushed back from the table. “Boys, you want to come over to my house and help me get Serena’s presents?”

  “Yeah!” Noah and Peter jumped down from their chairs, where they were obviously bored with the adults’ conversation, and ran for the door in front of their uncle. Shortly after Peter was born, Ash had helped his brother build a small house nearby. Now the boys stayed there in the summer months as often as in their own little room their father had subdivided for them in the larger house.

  Annie giggled as she watched her nephews run out, and then knocked on the table to get everyone’s attention. “Tell Serena about the new teacher!”

  “Oh!” Molly chuckled. “How did we forget to tell you the big news?” She let go of her husband’s hand to sign for Annie while she spoke. “Ash and I have been talking about the possibility of sending Annie to Cheyenne for school. The Central School has been doing very well for years now, and we like the idea of a ‘high school’, where older students can attend. Wendy made sure that Annie is well-educated, but we’d like for her to have the opportunity—even for a year—to go to a school. We’ve been corresponding with the Superintendent of Public Instruction, and he agreed to advertise for a teacher who had some experience with inclusive education.”

  “What’s this ‘inclusive education’?” Agnes was just as interested as her sister, but spoke up first.

  “Just that this teacher has taught different kinds of students, sometimes at the same time. We were interested in a teacher from one of the schools for the deaf out east, of course, but that was a long shot, with Annie being the only deaf student around. Instead, we’re getting a teacher who hails from New York, but who taught in England!” Molly smiled at Ash. “We’ve been corresponding with him—his name is Carderock—and we think he’ll be a wonderful addition to Cheyenne. He doesn’t use sign, because he’s an oralist, but we think that Annie will be able to learn from him. And it will be wonderful for her to have a chance to attend a school with so many other students her age.”

  Serena was almost as excited as Annie, judging from her friend’s happy smile. “Oh, Annie, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” She jumped out of her seat to hug the girl. Annie squealed with joy.

  “Me! In school!” Her signs were rapid and jerky, but Serena had been communicating with her for years, and had no trouble understanding. “I can’t believe it!”

  “The Superintendent is so progressive,” She had to finger-spell that, since she didn’t know if Wendy had ever developed a word for ‘superintendent’ or ‘progressive’, “to consider such a teacher. I can’t wait to meet this Mr. Carderock, and hear all about his plans!”

  Ash cleared his throat. “About that…” Serena and her aunts turned to him. “We were hoping that Molly and Annie and the boys could stay with you in town. Mr. Carderock will arrive in two weeks or so, and since you never miss the big celebration…”

  “Of course!” Cheyenne citizens always outdid themselves for the Fourth of July celebrations, with the picnic and parade and bonfire. “I can’t believe I almost forgot about Independence Day!”

  “The best part of summer!” Her aunts’ proclamations were nearly simultaneous, and they both dissolved into giggles afterwards.

  “I’m sure that the Double-S can survive without us for a few days. I’d love to spend a while in town, catching up with friends. Aunt Agatha, Aunt Agnes, what do you think?” She turned to the older ladies, unconsciously mimicking Annie’s hopeful gaze.

  Her aunts glanced at each other, and one—Serena was pretty sure it was Agatha—said “We think that regardless of your plans for the Fourth, young lady, we’ll be in town. We’d love to have the Barkers stay with us, if the boys can stay with Molly, and Serena doesn’t mind sharing her room with Annie again.”

  This time, Serena’s squeal matched Annie’s, and they hugged again.

  Molly’s smile was content. “That is very kind of you to host us each year, Aunt Agatha and Aunt Agnes. Noah and Peter will be on their best behavior, and I know they will just love the celebrations. And staying in town with you will allow us to meet Mr. Carderock, and make sure he’s comfortable in Cheyenne before school begins again.” She gasped. “Oh, maybe he could be our guest at the celebrations. He’d probably enjoy seeing first-hand that we’re just as sophisticated as the cities back east!”

  Serena nodded, but didn’t have high hopes. Molly and her sisters had come from Chicago, where they’d had a happy home before the Great Fire. She and Wendy had often mentioned how cosmopolitan Cheyenne was becoming, and Serena herself loved the city. But it was hard to imagine a dusty old British teacher being impressed by Cheyenne. Why, he was used to cities like London and New York; she was surprised that someone of his caliber was willing to travel west at all. He probably had a weak heart from years spent indoors, and wouldn’t be able to appreciate what they did have in their lovely city.

  “Good!” Agnes nodded emph
atically. “Let’s say that we’ll be in town on the twenty-fifth? That’s two weeks from now, and should give you time to welcome this teacher, and prepare for the celebrations. Serena, can you stand to be away from the ranch for so long?”

  She almost groaned, acknowledging how excited she was to have the chance to be back in the city, and to ignore her duties on the Double-S. “Maybe by then I’ll have an idea of what to do with the ranch!”

  “And hopefully Nate and I can come out and join you on the fourth.” Molly and Annie—and Wendy, when she was here—had always stayed with Serena and her aunts during the Fourth of July celebration. Ash and his brother had often come into the city for just the day and evening, to celebrate with them, not being able to take any more time away from their spread.

  Serena found herself becoming giddy. The news of Annie’s new opportunities, and the anticipation of the big picnic, parade, and bonfire had her feeling like a girl again. The worries and thoughts of Cam’s kiss were positively pushed out of her head. She wanted to laugh… and so she did.

  She was going to enjoy Independence Day, like she always had in the past, and fie on any of these new ‘grown-up’ worries. Her friends and family were all around her, and she was going to have a beautiful time, by God.

  So she was grinning when Nate and the boys returned with three adorably wrapped gifts—a ‘horse’ carving from Pete, a set of beautifully monogrammed handkerchiefs from Annie, and a her own copy of Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho—and spent the rest of the afternoon surrounded by her loved ones.

  And through it all, she didn’t think of Cam MacLeod—or his “just fine” kiss—once.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Cheyenne really was very impressive. As Sebastian strolled around the city, he couldn’t help but compare it to the New York City of a hundred years ago. But he could see the potential, could see the growth. Why, many of the buildings had scaffolding erected, as if parts of the city were being built before his very eyes. There was a hustle and bustle he hadn’t seen west of St. Louis, with workmen scurrying around at a frantic pace. He thought they looked a little like ants, determined to raise their city before the snows closed in again, making building impossible.

  The streets were dirt—he assumed it wouldn’t take much to turn them into mud—and few of the buildings were over three stories tall. Sebastian assumed that here in the Wyoming Territory, where the land seemed endless, it was easier to build out than up. But it was a growing city all the same. There were poles carrying electrical current to the homes and fancy businesses on 17th Street and beyond, and he’d seen as many electrical lights as gas-powered ones. Why, there was even a brand-new ‘telephone’ exchange, and that device had only been patented five years before! Sebastian had been lucky enough to hear Mr. Bell speak about it when that learned man was in England to demonstrate the telephone to the Queen, and had been fascinated by the possibilities it presented. He’d urged his father to invest in the new technology, and was surprised to find it this far west.

  In fact, he was pleasantly surprised by most of Cheyenne. Even though the Territory wasn’t officially a state yet, he knew it was only a matter of time. The city felt full of potential, and there were opportunities for expansion everywhere he turned.

  These opportunities were, of course, the reason he’d given his father for his rash move. He’d returned from teaching at Eton late last year, and endured the social season with his mother happily, because he’d been away from his family for so long. But soon he was chafing. Not at the city—he’d always loved the sophistication of his native New York, convinced that only London could match it—but at the inactivity. His father still went into his office every day, even though he’d turned most of the reins of the investment firm over to Sebastian’s older brother. His sister’s husband also worked for Carderock Investments, and even his layabout younger brother, who at twenty-two still hadn’t figured out what to do with his life, had a good enough head for sums that their father occasionally employed him for various tasks. But Sebastian had become a teacher—a math teacher, since he’d inherited the Carderock skill with numbers—because he felt like there wasn’t a place for him in the family business. His father already had all of the help he needed, and Sebastian didn’t like imports and exports as much as pure math.

  His father hadn’t liked the idea of his namesake gallivanting off west, but Sebastian had inherited a sizable sum from his grandfather. It was enough to keep him in comfort, which is how his younger brother Reginald was using it. But after the Eton job ended, Sebastian had convinced Sebastian, Sr. that the western cities deserved some attention from Carderock Investments. So he’d responded to an advertisement for a teacher in their public school, explained to his parents that it would only be for a year, and that he’d use the time to investigate investment possibilities.

  But now that he was here, Sebastian was wondering if it would only be for a year. The entire city was on the verge of expanding, of becoming something truly remarkable. He could almost taste the excitement and anticipation, and very much wanted to be a part of it. This was the reason he’d left New York in the first place; the knowledge that there was nothing new to try there, and the desire to tackle new jobs and new problems. The desire to do something new.

  New! That was it; Cheyenne, Wyoming was a brand-new city, full of potential, and Sebastian wanted to explore that potential. Ten years ago—five years ago!—this had been little more than a town situated on the railroad, but now it was a metropolis to rival some of the eastern cities… and it was growing exponentially. Why, he’d heard talk that the city was going to be lit soon with electric incandescent lamps, and even New York didn’t have those in the streets, yet!

  He felt like whistling, but contented himself with smile instead. He didn’t want anyone to see him and think he was too flippant or young for the serious job of math teacher. But truthfully, semesters spent with adolescents had kept him feeling younger than his twenty-five years, and he’d been known to engage in a bout of kickball or a skipping race. His mother would have palpitations if she’d ever found out.

  A shout got his attention, and he turned to watch several young men zoom by on Penny-Farthing bicycles. His smile grew. He’d spent some time behind the handlebars of the contraptions, and loved the smooth speed they provided, for all of their cumbersome bulk. Now there went a vehicle of the future, never mind horses and buggies!

  His older brother Bertrand had laughed when Sebastian stated his desire to visit Cheyenne, saying that he’d never imagined his younger brother riding a horse to his one-room school house. Sebastian had chuckled at the image, but agreed that he was a city boy through-and-through. He’d ridden horses, of course, but much preferred the simplicity of a buggy, or the bicycle… or his own two feet. He knew that he was unusual in his fondness for strolling, but he did his best thinking afoot, and firmly believed that it was the best way to explore a new town. Or a brand-new, potential-filled city. Of course, that’s not to say that when Cheyenne eventually got around to implementing the horse-tram, he wouldn’t take full advantage of that conveyance…

  This morning he was strolling down 17th Street towards the future site of the Stock-Growers National Bank. He’d met one of the partners two days before in the lobby of the Inter-Ocean hotel, where he was staying for the time being. Mr. Henry Hay had a booming voice and a strong handshake, and had startled Sebastian when he’d approached from behind.

  “Sebastian Carderock! If that don’t beat all!”

  Sebastian’s boxing instructor would have been proud of the way he’d whirled about, prepared for anything… but his father would have been proud of the way he’d reined in his defensive impulses and instead stuck out a hand for a crushing handshake. He was a representative of Carderock Investments, after all.

  And it turned out that was why Hay had wanted to speak to him. “I knew your daddy back east, son. How’s he doing?”

  “Fine sir. Still managing as much of the business as they’ll let hi
m.”

  “Good, good. A mutual friend told me you’d be in town, nosing around for some good investment opportunities, and have I got one for you!”

  He didn’t have time to explain that he was here because he’d accepted a teaching position, before Mr. Hay had invited him to dinner at the Cheyenne Club, and insisted on showing him “the sights”, as he’d called the tour of city’s elite districts.

  Dinner that evening at the Cheyenne Gentleman’s Club had been intriguing. It was a grand building with a full porch, two curving staircases, and separate dining and smoking rooms. It even had a tennis court. Yes sir, it was something right out of London or New York… until he’d met the members. Of the two hundred members, most of them were ranch owners, and Hay told him they represented most of the Territory’s wealth. They were hard men, used to working in the hot sun and cold snow and getting what they wanted. Some of them looked positively medieval. They had a particular habit of pairing their fine ditto suits with cowboy hats and boots. One man, lounging in the reading room, was still wearing his spurs.

  He’d met a Mr. J.M. Carey, a Thomas Sturgis, and a man with the unlikely name of Ithamar C. Whipple, all founders of the Stock-Growers National Bank, and all interested in having the Carderock family invest in it. And from what he’d heard that evening, it was a good investment opportunity.

  And so he was on his way to meet Mr. Hay in the bank’s temporary offices, and see the blueprints for what he was assured would be the “grandest bank in the Territory”. Before he reached the corner, though, he couldn’t help but turn to look down 17th Street towards Millionaire’s Row. He’d unbuttoned his jacket in the heat, and he stood there, hands shoved deeply in his pockets, contemplating the grand avenue. It was only a few years removed from its humble origins, but Cheyenne, Wyoming was the pride of the Territory, and rightly so.

  Yes, Cheyenne was growing, and he wanted to be here to help it grow. To grow with it. He could do his family some good out here, too, which is more than could be said for lounging around New York, wasting his inheritance on the social whirl or laboring over a ledger and set of books. Here he could educate children, to make sure that they grew into responsible citizens. Here he could offer his family’s influence to make sure the city grew into its potential.