A Cheyenne Celebration Page 9

  And in that moment, watching the woman he thought he loved fussing over another man, he wondered if he’d lost her entirely. Not wanting to be there when the other man realized he’d won by reining in his anger, Cam turned on his heel and stalked off, trying not to think about the disappointment on Serena’s face when she’d looked at him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Serena was strolling with her aunts through the quilt exhibit, admiring the beautiful works of art that were for sale or auction, when she heard a deep, masculine voice calling her name. Her heart in her throat, she spun around and swallowed in slight disappointment to see Ash approaching her with Molly pulled against his side happily. Pete was hanging on his other hand, swinging back and forth in excitement, chattering up at his father. Ash’s grin told Serena that he was thrilled to be back with his family after their separation.

  She smiled back in genuine pleasure, and went to place a kiss on his proffered cheek. She forgave herself her moment’s disappointment upon realizing that it wasn’t Sebastian calling her name. She’d been on tenterhooks all morning, wondering if she’d really see him today, if he’d really bid on her basket.

  After that horrible scene Cam had caused yesterday at church, Sebastian had been distant, aloof. She assumed it was because the poor man was in pain, but he assured her that he was fine, and had taken worse knocks in college. She didn’t know what had come over Cam, but she hadn’t liked the heated look in his eyes right before he hit Sebastian. Serena hated violent displays, and didn’t know if she could trust Cam anymore. Her Daddy had been like that, a man of action; strong words and stronger fists. It made him a miserable family man, but a fine rancher.

  Sebastian, on the other hand, had taken the punch like a perfect gentleman, remaining calm and icy even after Cam had left. She’d been impressed by his control, even while he allowed her to fuss over him.

  “Hey, Serena.”

  “Happy Fourth of July, Nate.” She shook herself out of her worries and smiled at Ash’s brother, who was signing for Annie. Little Noah was perched happily atop his uncle’s shoulders, munching on a stick of cinnamon candy. He grinned toothily at Serena, and when she saw that his mouth and tongue were an unnatural red, she had to chuckle. This—a sticky boy happily surveying the crowds from his high perch—seemed to personify a perfect Fourth of July celebration.

  Her aunts fell into chatting happily with the newcomers, and Serena learned that Nate and Ash had only just arrived. They left their horses at the livery for an outrageous cost, and came to meet their family at the fairgrounds. Like last year, they planned to stay overnight in the city, so as to enjoy the bonfire tonight, and then head home tomorrow with Molly, Annie and the boys. Serena knew that her friends enjoyed their little ‘vacation’ in the city, but judging from the look of love in Molly’s eyes, she’d be happy to be back where she belonged. With her husband.

  Serena sighed slightly. Was she foolish for wanting to live here in the city? Molly and Annie—and hundreds of other women—were content living and working on their husbands’ ranches. Cam’s offer was a good one, even if he hadn’t disappointed her by letting her see his anger. But she just didn’t want to live on the Open Skye, or even the Double-S. She’d hated the mind-numbing effort it’d taken to keep her father’s ranch barely functioning for the last two years. She’d sell it if she could, if there was anyone who could afford it. But then what? She hadn’t fibbed to her aunts and Sebastian; she really did like the idea of teaching literature to schoolchildren. But she knew that the salary of a female teacher wasn’t nearly enough to support her and her two aunts in the manner to which they’d become accustomed, living off of the ranch proceeds all these years.

  But then she remembered the basket auction, and more importantly, the men involved. Cam had said that he would be bidding on hers, and she wasn’t surprised. He’d been courting her outright since that visit to the Double-S in June. But Sebastian… Sebastian had said that he’d be bidding as well. A bid on a basket wasn’t exactly a public declaration of courting, and some men didn’t take it seriously. But it indicated that the man was interested in getting to know the lady better by spending time together, in public and private—or as near to private as one could get with two meddling aunts as chaperones.

  Would he bid? Would he be interested in spending time with her, even after yesterday’s debacle? Was he considering—she caught her breath at the thought—courting her? Yesterday her knees had gone weak when he’d approached after church and bowed over her hand like a prince, with his learning and sophistication and that beautiful dimple! He was quite literally a dream come true, and she was just a Wyoming ranch girl who wanted to live in the big city. She sighed again, but this time it was in slight dejection. Why would he ever want to court someone like her? He probably had hundreds of ladies waiting for him back in New York City, all more beautiful and urbane than she was. She scowled at the thought. I’ll bet none of them have to ride astride or worry about hats to shade their cheeks.

  She reached up to adjust the offending hat, but calmed the moment her hand touched the straw. She was really quite proud of the creation, having bought it plain and decorated it herself to match the dress—yellow with a black lace trim—that she had chosen to wear today. She and her aunts had gained a little fame for their beautiful hats, and they always received compliments. I’ll bet none of those fine New York ladies have to decorate their own hats, either! But this time there was a little pride mixed in. She might not be one of those beautiful and worldly ladies Sebastian had left behind, but she had worth nonetheless. She’d managed a ranch, and organized charitable functions, and might one day teach. Those ladies might have nothing better to do then sit inside and play the piano and speak French, but she was almost as accomplished. She could play the piano and speak passable French and run a cattle ranch if necessary.

  Serena was feeling a little better when she felt Annie take her hand. They strolled through the quilts and on towards the race track, with the girl gently tugging. Serena smiled, and since they were all trying to accommodate Sebastian’s oralist techniques, made sure that she was facing the girl when she said, rather than signed, “Did you enter any horses this year?”

  Entering—and winning—past Fourth of July races had served as a sort of advertisement for Ash and Nate. Their horse breeding and training became known far and wide, and people now came from well beyond Cheyenne to buy from them. They now had two extra hands working with them, and had built yet another set of stables last year. But Serena hadn’t heard that they were bringing any animals to town this year, so she assumed they didn’t need any more fame.

  “Nah dis...tahm.” Not this time. There were sounds that no-one had known how to teach Annie, if she didn’t remember hearing them when she was a baby. The “th” sound was one, and vowels were another. But over the last week, sharing a room with the girl, Serena had been impressed by how often she was willing to try to speak. It was amazing how far she was willing to push herself, to have the chance to attend school.

  Serena nodded and shrugged dismissively. “Well, it’s not like you and your brothers need any more fame. If you won again, you wouldn’t have enough horses to supply all of the demand!”

  Annie giggled appreciatively, and they linked arms again to stroll towards the track. The two of them—so similar in size, but one a girl and one clearly a woman—spent an entertaining few minutes watching the horses prance and gallop by. They laughed and signed and privately judged all the animals themselves, and then went to set up the courses and equipment for the sack and egg races. Serena had taken over the arrangements, and was looking forward to watching the children compete for the little homemade ribbons she’d helped sew. And amid the excitement, Serena managed to forget all about the upcoming basket auction, and Sebastian and Cam…almost.

  Sebastian had thought that New York City in high August was sweltering, but it couldn’t compare to a Cheyenne Fourth of July. He was thankful for the hat—a straw boater, which was ridicul
ous considering they were hundreds of miles from the closest lake—that was at least protecting his head from the sun. His nose ached, but luckily wasn’t broken. He’d bruised a bit under his right eye, but it was minor, and he didn’t think anyone would notice, especially in the shade of the hat. Once again he thanked his old boxing instructor for teaching him how to roll with the punches.

  It hadn’t been a complete surprise, when MacLeod threw that punch, so he’d known how to minimize the effect. And he’d wanted so badly to return the favor to the larger man, to show him that Sebastian Carderock wasn’t the weakling he’d assumed. But Serena was watching, and he knew how she felt about big men, violent men… and so he’d reined in his anger. And that had bothered MacLeod even more than his obvious affection for Serena.

  But MacLeod had left, and he’d had Serena—and her tender administrations—all to himself. All things considered, if he had to be punched, then that was probably the best way to do it. Impress a lady and irritate his adversary, who obviously had designs on Serena.

  Now, despite the heat, he stood on the fairgrounds with his new business partners-- Misters Hay, Carey and Whipple and their wives—and waited with just a hint of impatience for the basket auction to start. They’d already heard speeches from the mayor, and quite a few government representatives about the possibilities of Wyoming becoming a state soon, and other positive goals for the future. The attack on President Garfield was a popular theme, juxtaposed with the discussions on statehood. He thought it interesting how citizens of a Territory that wasn’t yet a state could care so deeply about the birth of the United States of America. They could sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee”, and wave thirty-eight-starred flags, all the while knowing full well they didn’t have the same rights and representation as states back east.

  Normally, Sebastian would have been fascinated by the rhetoric and dichotomy, but he found himself shifting his weight impatiently. Henry noticed his tenseness, and made a joke to his companions at Sebastian’s expense. He laughed along with the rest of them, good-naturedly. He’d enjoyed their company over the weeks he’d been in Cheyenne; they were the sort of intelligent, well-connected men with whom he’d always engaged. Their wives, on the other hand, were a different breed entirely. As soon as they’d discovered that his long-term goals in Cheyenne included, well, long-term goals in Cheyenne, they’d smiled hugely and starting to titter among themselves. They’d… organized.

  Not to say that the ladies back East were vapid and timid creatures—his mother and sister certainly weren’t—but the ladies out here were different. He’d never seen so much organization come out of one group before. They sprang into action, calling upon friends and family and acquaintances, and now he had a whole list of social obligations, quite a few new friends, and several sets of house designs for when he finally settled on a builder.

  Of course, their priority was finding him a “church family”, but he was perfectly content at the First Congregational Church for the time being. After all, Reverend Davis wasn’t boring, and Serena attended. If everything went as he was hoping, and he convinced her to marry him, then he planned to make things as easy for her as possible. He didn’t tell any of the ladies that though, because of their second priority: getting him married.

  In the past week, he’d met three different eligible—mostly young—women, all thanks to Mrs. Hay and Mrs. Whipple. He hadn’t spent any length of time with any of the ladies, and certainly not in private. And none of them had sparked even a bit of interest in him. They were all too vapid, too self-centered. It didn’t take him long to figure out that he was comparing them all to Serena.

  That wasn’t hard to believe, though, since he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since… well, since he’d met her, he supposed. He’d been enjoying the Fourth of July celebrations so far, but the highlight for him was going to be the basket auction, where he’d be able to ‘formally’ announce his intentions.

  His attentions.

  Mrs. Whipple twittered excitedly, and he dragged his attention back to the here and now. The mayor was done with his speech, and had introduced two women—Sebastian had missed their names in his distraction—who were currently arranging some picnic baskets. Henry had explained that sometimes basket auctions were done anonymously, but in Cheyenne they put each basket up on the dais and called out the bids, just like a real auction. It was always exciting, and since it was for a good cause, no young lady was ever embarrassed. “Besides,” his new partner had said with a chuckle, “It’s not like we got so many ladies out here that we’re not going to marry off every eligible one!”

  The system was simple; one of the women would describe, in loving detail, the contents of the basket, making sure to nonchalantly drop the maker’s name into the description. After all, the auction was supposed to be all about the contents, not the lady who assembled them. But the interest in each basket’s contents was only until the audience heard the lady’s name; after that, they knew whether they wanted to bid or not. As the bidding started on the first basket, with the young lady in question looking suitably demure and excited all at once, Sebastian realized that it could have been filled with manure; the bidders were only interested in laying a sort of claim to the lady.

  He felt himself drawn along with the rest of the crowd, as the excitement built. There was a blood-sport feel to the entire proceedings, just like the watchers of a game of kick-ball. It was almost barbaric, as if the mob waited to see who would win the woman, but Sebastian appreciated the thrill of the competition. When one man ended the winner, and left the proceedings with the basket on one arm and the lady on the other, Sebastian deflated just a bit, and understood the draw of the auction for the rest of the audience.

  He listened intently as each basket was described, but once he heard the lady’s name—and it wasn’t Serena’s—then he’d turn his attention to the bidders. He felt his companion’s curious looks, and he knew that they were wondering when he’d start bidding. He gave them no indication that he was there to do anything other than enjoy the sport. Even so, after the second time he didn’t bid on a basket from one of the ladies Mrs. Hay had introduced him to, he could hear her whispering to her friend.

  And then he stopped listening to her at all, because the lady up on stage mentioned blueberry jam, and then Serena’s name.

  He heard one of his companions chuckle, and realized it was because he’d taken a step forward expectantly, craning his neck to see over the sea of cowboy hats between him and the stage. The bidding started low, and he was about to open, when he heard another voice.

  “Five dollars.” It was MacLeod. Sebastian had known yesterday that the big blonde man was interested in Serena, and now he had proof. If punching him hadn’t been enough, that is. He’d hoped MacLeod wouldn’t bother either of them anymore, but he’d underestimated the cowboy’s tenacity. Because there the giant stood, beside an even-taller man, next to Molly Barker. Molly’s husband—Sebastian remembered that his name was Ash—was going to be in town for the festivities, and since they were MacLeod’s neighbors, the man would have felt comfortable joining them…. Ah, yes, there was Serena, standing with Annie, half-blocked by Mr. Barker’s bulk.

  Sebastian stepped forward again, so that he could see her. Her cheeks were pink, but he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or the sun. She was very firmly not looking at MacLeod, but seemed to be ignoring her companions’ attempts at conversation.

  He smiled slowly, and drawled out “Ten dollars.”

  There were hoots and cheers and gasps all around him. Sebastian knew that raising the bid five whole dollars, especially opening with a high number, was unusual, but what did he care? He had the money, and didn’t intend to lose. Carderocks didn’t lose.

  He loved the way her gaze flew to his when she heard his bid, and she tried to look away. But he smiled again, and knew when she was hooked. Those beautiful lips formed a perfect little “o”, and he felt his heart beating faster. He tol
d himself it was because of the thrill of the bidding, but knew the truth; he wanted Serena Selkirk more than he’d wanted anything in his life.

  MacLeod bid twelve dollars, and he immediately upped it to fifteen in a loud and clear voice, without breaking eye contact with her. He saw her cheeks pinken further, watched the little fluttery pulse in the base of her neck, and took three steps towards her before he knew what he was doing. She jerked, as if she’d started to meet him, but had thought better of it.

  “Sixteen.” MacLeod sounded reluctant.

  “Twenty.” Sebastian didn’t need to push people out of the way; they were as involved in the drama as he had been, and gladly formed a clear space between the two. Serena must have overcome her hesitation, because suddenly she was moving towards him.

  “Twenty-two dollars.”

  Sebastian still hadn’t looked at MacLeod, but heard the man’s reluctance. He was a self-made rancher, but unlike the men Sebastian had met at the Club, he hadn’t made his fortune quite yet. Twenty-two dollars was almost a month’s salary for one of Cam’s cowhands; it was a lot of money to spend on some jam, and dinner with a lady.

  But not just any lady. There wasn’t an amount of money that wouldn’t be worth it to Sebastian. “Fifty dollars.”

  This time he heard the gasp and the ripple of conversation as he called out his amount. Fifty dollars was practically unheard of, for a basket. And to jump twenty-eight dollars to that amount, just to cut off MacLeod’s bidding? It was practically outrageous. And Sebastian couldn’t have been grinning bigger when he met Serena in the now-empty patch of grass.

  They stood, staring at one another, and the surrounding crowd melted away. He loved the way she met his eyes boldly, even with the pink tint of embarrassment—and dare he hope pleasure?—on her cheeks. Her hands were fidgeting at her side, and so he grabbed one, just to calm her. She sighed, seemed to melt before his eyes, and a soft smile formed on her lips.