Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters Read online

  “I’m afraid you’re not going to be Reese’s favorite person for a while,” she said, looking at Mae seriously.

  “Oh no!” Mae’s voice was shocked. “Did he get in trouble?” She reached toward her friend, eyes wide.

  “Let’s just say he was questioned by the Dean of the school. Fortunately, Reese is good at denying he’s been up to no good.” Melissa settled back against the cushions of the coach. “Needless to say, he convinced the man that he had no idea that the boy he’d sent to work at the college was really a girl.” She smiled then as if it had been a great adventure.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Mae sighed. “I should have my head examined.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s probably the most excitement those stuffy old men have had in ages.” She tittered at the thought, then grew serious once more. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to go there anymore, Mae.”

  “It’s alright, I’ve learned loads already and in its own way it was fun while it lasted. I suppose I’ll have to actually attend all my other classes regularly now, though.”

  For a long while the two young ladies were silent as they traversed the streets of Boston, each enveloped in their own thoughts.

  “Mae, what do you think of Carl?” Melissa asked, abruptly changing the subject from her friend’s misdeeds.

  “He’s a dedicated brother, I know that much.” Mae spoke, turning her thoughts to the man that was now working for the Middletons. “He seems bright enough. Why, has he done something wrong?”

  “No,” Mel mused for a moment, tapping her finger lightly on her lips. “No, he’s working very hard to improve himself.”

  “What does that mean? I thought he could already read and write and things like that.”

  “Yes, he’s actually quite good with numbers. I’m trying to persuade Father to let him work as an accountant in the main office, but he says he needs to learn more of the business first so that he’ll understand the numbers.”

  Mae tilted her head and studied her friend. She was sure there was more to this conversation than she realized, but couldn’t place her finger on what it was. She had to commend her friend on taking such a personal interest in the man they’d found in the gutter.

  “Is there something else you want him to do?” Mae asked, feeling that if she could hit on the right topic things would become clear.

  “Yes, there are several things I’d like him to do,” Melissa answered, now running the tip of her finger along the outline of her lips, “but for now I’ll concentrate on the bookkeeping.”

  Mae shrugged. That made sense. She was starting to relax a little more as they approached the gate leading to her present home. She sighed again, wishing she could truly be home. She wondered just how much longer her exile was to last.

  “Do you think you’ll be returning to Wyoming for the summer?” Melissa asked, moving away from her own private thoughts.

  “I don’t think so,” Mae replied. “I was only now wondering when I’d get to go home.”

  “I’m sure it will be soon. Your family must miss you.”

  Mae watched as Mel’s driver clicked to the horses and carried Mel away. How had she ever been so fortunate to make a friend like Melissa Middleton? Closing her eyes, she said a prayer of thanks, tacking on a request for forgiveness at the last moment before dashing into the house.

  Chapter 17

  Mae tapped her foot beneath the hem of her pretty pink gown while she listened to the music and watched as her aunt’s guests completed an old-fashioned reel. Summer was upon them and even with the large windows of the dining room thrown open, the room felt too warm.

  The music was lovely, but Mae wished she could slip outside for even a few minutes. She had danced with several older gentlemen and her slippers were pinching her toes unmercifully.

  Looking across the room, she saw her aunt speaking to an all too familiar guest. Mr. Wilms seemed to come to most of Jemma’s parties. He had gained weight again and although not corpulent, he was soft and thick as if he had never done any physical work in his life.

  She had already suffered through three dances with the man and hoped he wouldn’t ask again. Perhaps she could beg off by saying she had a headache. She knew her aunt used the excuse often enough, but the thought fled as she watched her aunt’s face redden. It was obvious that she wasn’t pleased by whatever her gentleman friend was saying.

  Slowly she worked her way closer.

  “Can’t you wait until next year?” Jemma was saying, “after all a little more time won’t hurt.”

  “No.” the man stated forcefully, his flabby lips slapping shut on the word. “I’ve given you all the time in the world. I’ll expect everything to be in order by the first of August and that’s final.” His small black eyes sparkled malevolently and Mae shivered.

  “Oh, Aunt Jemma there you are,” Mae stated stepping up to her aunt with a smile. “I believe Mrs. Lacey is looking for you.”

  “Is she? Oh, thank you, dear,” Jemma smiled. “You remember Mr. Wilms, I’m sure.” Her smile became stiff.

  “Hello again my dear,” the man stepped forward, taking her hand in his and kissing it. Mae wanted nothing more than to pull her hand away and wipe it on her dress, but resisted the urge.

  “I know I said it earlier, but you are a vision of loveliness in that dress. You’ll make an enchanting wife someday, I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand in his, and she could feel the perspiration on it.

  “Thank you,” she choked, forcing a pleasant smile.

  “I’m afraid I must leave you lovely ladies,” Mr. Wilms spoke again, bending to kiss her hand a second time. “I have business elsewhere this evening.” He bowed slightly to Jemma. “Mrs. Johnson, I look forward to seeing you again very soon. Mae.”

  Mae watched the older man walk away, only releasing her breath when he was out of sight.

  “Aunt Jemma, is everything alright?”

  “Alright, why wouldn’t everything be alright?” The older woman snapped her icy eyes looking Mae over critically.

  Just for a moment Mae was sure she had seen something soften in her aunt’s eyes, some flicker of, was it pity? However, it was so fleeting in the next instance she was sure she’d imagined it.

  “Mr. Wilms is a very important man, you know,” Jemma spoke, looking at the door where the man himself had only moments ago exited. “He’s extremely wealthy.”

  “Yes, auntie,” Mae replied, wondering about the comment. Personally, the man made her skin crawl and tonight had been even worse without Mel or Reese to rescue her from his roaming hands each time they danced.

  ***

  “Mae, I think you are old enough to know by now that sometimes honor and respect cannot be brought to a family simply through hard work or good intentions,” Jemma said the next morning at breakfast.

  Mae turned her dark eyes to where her aunt sat buttering a piece of toast. “Pa always says that an honest day’s work is worth more than treasure,” she replied.

  “Well, it’s not always enough. You know your father is getting older. From what I understand he’s already suffered one blow to his health and what will he do if the ranch fails?”

  Mae stood to her feet. “Is something wrong with Pa? Has something happened? What’s wrong?” She could hear the tremor in her own voice, but could not control it.

  “Oh no dear, nothing like that. I’m just saying that if something were to happen, what would he do?” Her ice-chip eyes met Mae’s dark ones without blinking.

  Mae sat back down, trying to calm her beating heart. “Pa’s not alone,” she began, “He has Katie and all of my sisters and their husbands, not to mention Uncle Benji, Deeks, Billy, Walt, and Stephens. If anything happened, they would take care of him and Nona and Grans look after the buildings and garden. Then there’s Ye-ye…”

  “Don’t use that term in my presence,” Jemma snapped, then dabbing her mouth with a napkin, cleared her throat. “My dear, that’s all well and good to have fa
mily and friends about you, but what about money? In these uncertain times, without money and influence there is no guarantee of security.”

  “Money’s not everything, Aunt Jemma.” She had heard her father say it many times, but now looking around the big empty house, she understood the words more fully.

  “Money, my dear is everything,” Jemma’s voice was as cold as her eyes. “If you were to marry well, marry into wealth and authority, you could ensure your father’s and your family’s happiness for the rest of their lives.”

  “Aunt Jemma, I’ve already decided I’ll never marry. Men change everything. Besides, as soon as I finish my studies, I’m going to go home and look after Pa and all of the horses and other animals on the ranch.”

  “Not marry!” Jemma exclaimed. “Don’t be foolish Mae, of course you’ll marry, and the sooner you find a man who can treat you the way you deserve, the better. Someone who can give you everything you ever want in life.”

  Mae shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Auntie, but that’s not for me. I just want to go home.”

  Jemma Johnson’s mouth pressed into a dark slash across her mouth and her eyes blazed, but her words were softly spoken. “I’m sure you feel that way now, but you’ll see that I know best.”

  Chapter 18

  The last days of July drifted away like a feather on the wind, and once again, Mae found herself sitting at her aunt’s table surrounded by a collection of gossiping old women and what Billy would have called ‘dandified’ men.

  Mr. Wilms sat across the table from her, sipping his wine and enjoying a lush meal. “You’ve barely touched your veal, my dear,” he spoke, his lips glistening with moisture. “You’ll waste away to nothing, you know,” he chuckled, apparently in a good mood.

  He’d been speaking to her all night, commenting on how lovely she looked, how prettily her hair was done.

  Mae simply wanted the night to end so that she could tuck herself into bed. Tomorrow she would go to spend a few days with Melissa and be able to relax. Since her conversation with her aunt, the older woman had seemed edgy and nervous.

  “Perhaps you’d like a new dress.” She finally heard Mr. Wilms words.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, startled by his statement.

  “A new dress my dear, wouldn’t that be nice.”

  Mae had obviously missed something important and stared at the man vacantly for a few seconds.

  “A dress?” she finally queried, wondering why he would be discussing dresses with her. “I have quite a number of them already.”

  His hearty guffaw left her even more confused.

  “Perhaps we could go for a stroll later and discuss what other things you like.” He spoke boldly, his large belly still jiggling from laughter.

  Mae had the distinct impression that she was being patronized and she had no desire what so ever to go for a stroll with the repulsive man. She desperately wished Mel were with her. If she could only keep from doing anything stupid until tomorrow.

  As dessert was served and more wine consumed, Mr. Wilms stood unsteadily to his feet and raised his glass.

  “I would like to make a special announcement,” he began, his words only slightly slurred. “I would like to announce the impending nuptials of yours truly and the lovely Miss Mae James.”

  Mae’s head rang like a gong with the words as silence fell over the whole room. One by one everyone turned smiling faces toward her as the blood began pounding in her ears.

  “No,” she said shakily, “No, I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

  Again the man laughed, “She does like her little jokes, don’t you my dear,” he smiled down at her.

  As the heat ran up her neck, Mae sprang to her feet, making the dishes on the table rattle. “I’m afraid you’ve had too much to drink, Mr. Wilms. I have never, and will never agree, to marry you.”

  The man’s eyes shot toward Jemma and crackled with heat.

  “Mae, don’t make a scene,” Jemma simpered. “I’m sure it’s all a simple misunderstanding.” She looked at Wilms. “We can discuss this after our guests have gone.” She smiled sweetly at her assembled friends. “Now sit down, dear, and finish your dessert.”

  “No, Aunt Jemma, I won’t sit down.” Anger churned in Mae’s belly. “I want each and every one of you here tonight to understand that Mr. Wilms and I are not engaged.” Tossing the napkin she still held clenched in her hand onto the table, Mae turned and stormed from the room.

  “She’s very high strung,” she heard her aunt say apologetically, as she started for the stairs and the safety of her room.

  It all made sense now, the conversation at breakfast, the snippet she had heard at the last party between her aunt and Mr. Wilms. Jemma had been planning this all along. She wanted Mae to marry a man at least twice her age, a man whose over indulgences and lack of self-control were plainly obvious.

  How could she ever believe that Mae would be willing to marry such a man? She shivered at the thought, her skin crawling all along her body, remembering his touch on the dance floor.

  “Ginny, Ginny,” she called as she pressed the door closed, leaning on it for support. “Ginny, where are you.” she moaned.

  “Here, Miss.” The lean woman stepped out of the bathroom, a stack of towels still in her hands. “Gracious Mae, you look like death, whatever happened?” Dropping the towels, she rushed to Mae’s side, grasping her hands tightly. “You’re as cold as ice.”

  “Don’t worry about that now, Ginny, help me pack. I’ll send a note to Mel and ask her to fetch me tonight.” She pushed herself upright, squeezing the maid’s hands back reassuringly. After nearly two years together it would be sad to leave Ginny behind, but she knew she could not stay.

  “Bagger, Bagger, come here boy.” Mae called as Ginny opened a trunk and began hastily packing. “Come on now, we’re going away.” A long pink nose poked out from under the covers of her bed as the fuzzy gray possum waddled toward her.

  Mae reached out and stroked the soft fur on his back, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders with each stroke.

  The door to the room bust open with a loud bang, making Mae jump. Ginny screamed and Bagger dropped to the floor in a ball as still as death.

  “You ungrateful reprobate!” Jemma Johnson screeched, crossing the room to glare at her niece, then jumped back, a disgusted gurgle in her throat when she saw the animal on the floor. “A dead possum,” she bellowed, “in my house.” Her icy eyes, burned with rage. “Carver, take it out and burn it. Now!” she stormed.

  “No!” Mae wailed reaching for her pet. “No.”

  “You will not defy me in my own house,” the older woman snarled as the butler stepped through the door, wrapped the animal gently in a towel and turned to go.

  Mae took a step to follow but her aunt grasped her arm, twisting it painfully. “You foolish girl. You came here for me to make you better. To turn you into something. I welcomed you into my home, despite your background and ancestry.” Her lip twisted in disgust.

  Still gripping Mae’s arm, Jemma forced the stunned girl out of the room and down the hall. “I should have known with a mother like yours, you’d be no good.”

  Mae’s breath caught in her throat as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. She twisted, looking for help, but only saw Ginny huddled behind the trunk like a frightened child.

  “I’ve made you a match that most young ladies would kill for. You’ll have wealth, power, respect.” Jemma’s voice softened, as she half-walked, half-dragged Mae down the stairs to the first floor.

  “I’ve looked after you like you were my own child,” she said, a twisted smile making her face surreal. “You’ll thank me later,” she added, still pulling Mae along through the kitchen. With the fingers of one hand biting deeply into Mae’s arm, Jemma reached for the door on the far wall and pulled Mae into utter darkness.

  Mae had all but cried herself out but no one came to her rescue. Her aunt had dragged her to the bottom of the stairs, pulled open another door an
d closed it with an ominous thud. The sound of a key in the tumblers had made her blood run cold.

  She was completely alone in the dark. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but a pale moon glowed through a small window high in a stonewall. How was she ever to get out of this mess? Her aunt was mad, there was no other explanation, and she’d let Mae rot here until she agreed to marry that horrible man.

  Wiping her nose on the hem of her dress, she sniffed, and looked up at the bright sliver of moon far out of reach in the heavens above. “Please help me, God,” she whispered, her tear-stained face turned toward the light. “I promise I’ll be good, just help me.”

  ******

  Something was wrong, it was obvious. Reese crumpled the note in his hand, walked up the stairs to the imposing house, and rapped on the door. The aging butler answered his face impassive.

  “Mr. Middleton.” The man’s words were soft.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at such a late hour,” Reese began, trying to see into the house, “but my sister’s sent me with a message for Mae. Could I see her, please?”

  “Who is it, Carver?” Mrs. Johnson voice echoed through the foyer. “Oh, Mr. Middleton, what a surprise.” She smiled, but her eyes were tight.

  “Mrs. Johnson,” Reese stated politely, even as a strange chill ran up his spine. “My sister sent me with a message for Mae.”

  “At this time of night?” Jemma Johnson raised a snowy brow. “I’m afraid Mae’s not feeling well tonight. Perhaps you could give me the message.”

  “Of course,” he smiled his brightest smile. “Mel wanted me to let Mae know that we’ll be here at ten to fetch her tomorrow and...” he paused as if trying to remember, catching a glimpse of Ginny’s red hair at the top of the stairs. “Oh yes, she’s to remember her pink dress for the tea party.” He shrugged as if it was beyond him to understand how girls thought.

  “How very considerate,” Mrs. Johnson spoke. “I do hope that Mae will be up to going tomorrow, you know how these early days of summer can bring on a cold.” Her icy eyes raked over him. “I’ll send word if she’s not up to it.” Again she smiled, “Good-night, Mr. Middleton.”