Chapter Seven


Oklahoma Territory, Late February, 1883


While most of the residents of Sleepyside were dancing away at the winter social, Ayla sat curled up in the chair, staring at the fire.

She wasn’t about to go try and be happy and dance. She doubted Bill would be there, at least. He didn’t like big gatherings. While she would have liked some social interaction, she just couldn’t go and be merry while everything was falling apart and hanging in such a fragile balance.

Closing her eyes, she thought about the circus. It had been almost a year, since she had heard the roar of the audience, and the amazed gasps as she flew through the air. So long since she had heard the cheerful music, smelled the corn and candy accents that coated the air.

She missed it. It was in her blood, she had grown up in the circus. Over the years, people had come and gone, but it was still home. At times she had longed for a normal, quiet life, and now she wasn’t sure that was she wanted after all. It was too quiet.

Life with Thom had always been quiet though, she thought. Life with Bill Regan had been…lively. At least, the tiny glimpse of it had been.

Her eyes went to the loft, where Jasper shared sleeping quarters with William. Her step-nephew was up there now, writing music, she figured. Every now and then a sad, melancholy tune would come from his flute.

It was likely they could go back to the circus. Sure, there would be new trapeze artists but she could easily get back into it, though she was getting older. She could always train the new aerialists. There would—

A loud knock at the door broke into her thoughts. Frowning, she rose from her chair near the small fire and walked to the door. Jasper leaned over the loft edge. William looked up from his slate.

Cold air rushed in when she opened the door and Bill Regan stepped in quickly, pushing the door behind him closed.

Ayla retreated a couple of steps and Jasper hurried down the ladder in case of trouble.

“What are you doing here?” Ayla asked coolly. She tried to ignore the jump in her heart rate.

He pulled off his snow covered hat.

“I came to talk to you. Both of you,” he answered, his green eyes darting to Jasper. "This will be the last time, I promise."

“William, can you go upstairs, please?” Ayla asked.

The boy sighed and did so.

“Look, I owe you both an apology, especially you, Jasper. Madeleine genuinely cares for you, and I shouldn’t have tried to use that to my advantage. I didn’t know how else to…keep an eye on Ayla. And before you yell at me, again, I needed to keep an eye on you.”

Jasper folded his arms across his chest. Ayla met Bill’s gaze steadily.

“When I saw you in my arms, that day on the horse,” Regan said quietly to Ayla, “it was like time stood still. I never thought I’d see you again. I did go back for you, and you father nearly had me killed. I was afraid of what he’d do to you, so I didn’t go back again. I had no idea about the boy, until I saw him in church. And since then, I’ve been trying to get every scrap of information on you I can.

“Jasper, when I asked Madeleine to keep her ears open for information, it was never really meant as a spy operation. I know it looks that way, but she cares deeply for you. Madeleine has had some bad luck with other fellas, and I think you’re the one she cares most for. I shouldn’t be telling you that, probably, but you’re angry with her, and rightfully so, but really, you should be angry with me. I’ve grown very fond of you, and even Miss Trask enjoys your company. I’m here to say I’m sorry, and to ask you please to consider forgiving Madeleine.”

“Did you ask Mr. Wheeler to buy my land?” Ayla asked quietly.

Regan made a noncommittal noise. “I asked him to think of a way to help you. We all figured it out about William pretty quickly. My cousin is a businessman, but he understands family. And he doesn’t like to see women taken advantage of, which is what will happen come spring when word gets out about Mr. Malley. I was just trying to look out for you, Ayla. I failed you years ago, I didn’t want to do it again.”

“Are you my real father?” a small voice asked.

Ayla winced and turned. Jasper turned around to see William standing behind him.

Regan looked at Ayla, his eyes pleading.

“Your real father is dead,” Ayla said sharply. “The man who raised you.”

“He’s not my father,” William replied scornfully. “He told me that a long time ago.”

Ayla’s eyes widened.

“You look like me,” the boy said, studying Regan. “An’ I see you lookin’ at me in church, like you’re in pain.”

Regan swallowed.

Ayla took a deep breath. “This man is your biological father,” she said. “But your real father raised you and loved you.”

William frowned, not sure how to understand that.

Jasper knelt down. “You have two fathers, William,” he said. “One who raised you, and one who helped make you.”

“Where have you been? You said you didn’t know about me,” the boy’s big green eyes were still on Regan.

Regan knelt so he could be one eye level with his son. “That’s right, William, I didn’t. But if I had, I would have raised you.”

William turned to his mother. “Why didn’t you look for him?”

“Your grandfather wouldn’t let me,” she replied sadly. “And Thom and I agreed it was for the best.”

William seemed to accept that, his small face scrunched up in thought.

The three adults looked at each other.

“I really am sorry,” Regan said. “I hope someday you can forgive me. I’ve never stopped loving you, Ayla. Never. The only other woman I ever cared about paled into nothing next to you.”

Ayla swallowed.

Regan turned to Jasper. “Please, if you can find it in your heart to forgive her… it would mean a great deal. Even if you don’t resume your courtship, I have hope that some sort of friendship can be salvaged. Madeleine is a wonderful young lady who got caught up in my plotting. She never would have had the thought to do this on her own.”

Jasper’s dark eyes were unreadable to Regan. Regan put his hat on and turned to the door, opening it. Seconds later he had shut it behind him, disappearing into the cold, dark night.

Ayla locked the door and turned to Jasper. He just shook his head, unsure of how to respond.

***

Jim Frayne straightened his tie nervously. He had left a note for her the day before, asking for permission to take her and her sister ice skating.

He checked his pocket watch and glanced towards the steps. She came into view and he smiled. Clara was in front of her, and Jim couldn’t help but notice their thin coats. He hoped his mother's plan would go off smoothly.

“Mr. Frayne, good afternoon,” Adelia smiled at him.

Jim bowed to both ladies. “And how are you ladies today?”

“Are we really going to go skating?” Clara asked, her blue eyes dancing.

“We sure are. My cousin Madeleine has a perfect lake for doing so and a bunch of the neighbors are there already. Shall we?” he offered his arm to Clara, with a wink to Adelia, who blushed.

He noticed the shivering as they walked outside, and he helped them into his sleigh, tucking the thick warm blanket around them. Jupiter set off.

They reached the lake quickly enough. Sure enough, the four Lynch twins were there with Mart and Bobby Belden, and Diana Lynch. Katje Frayne and Helen Belden were there as well, tending a hot pot of cider over a small fire. Regan was refereeing a race between Bobby and Terry Lynch across the frozen lake.

“Here they are!” Katje said cheerfully as Jim arrived with his guests. The mothers had met the Cornwall sisters at the dance several nights before, and taken a fast liking to both, especially when it became apparent Jim liked the older one.

“Come have some cider to warm up a bit,” Helen smiled to them.

Clara grinned back and accepted. Adelia thanked them.

“Merciful heavens, child, you look cold,” Katje said. “I bet no one prepared you two for the harsh winters out here.”

Helen made a clicking noise against her tongue. “I have just the thing to help!”

She hurried over to the Belden wagon and pretended to rummage through. Before either sister could protest, Helen was bundling Adelia into a warm black coat, while Clara found Katje tugging a deep blue coat around her.

“The children are forever forgetting to bundle up,” Helen said with a smile, “so we’re always prepared.”

“Lovely, they fit just right,” Katje beamed.

Adelia opened her mouth to protest but Bobby raced over shouting for Clara to join them. Jim held out a hand to Adelia.

“Off you go,” Helen gave Adelia a small nudge.

The bewildered young lady took the extended hand Jim and Clara followed Bobby.

“Nicely done,” Katje said softly.

“I thought so,” Helen chuckled. “Good thing I had that old coat of Hallie’s. Adelia isn’t quite as tall but it should serve her well, and Clara is the same size as the Lynch girls. Caroline was more than willing to give an extra coat away and said to let her know if we needed anything else.”

The mothers, satisfied with their workings, helped themselves to hot cider as they watched the young people enjoy their skate. Katje’s smile widened as Jim skated by slowly, backwards, pulling a nervous Adelia with him.

***

Ayla shivered. Spring couldn’t come fast enough, she thought. Only a few more weeks and the first Chinook should blow through, according to some of the locals.

Once the snow had melted and the roads cleared, Ayla knew they would move on. Jasper had been to town to wire the circus. Both would be welcomed back. Thom would be buried here, as soon as the ground thawed and could be dug. Dr. Belden had been out with a coffin during a lull in the snow, and he and the undertaker took Thom’s frozen body away.

She hadn’t seen or heard from Bill Regan since the night he came to the house. She was grateful he was respecting her request to be left alone.

Jasper was another story. The young man’s light was completely gone. He did chores around the house, kept the fire going, but there was no light in him. He had barely touched his flute; he went to town only when necessary. Ayla knew he was still suffering from the loss of Madeleine. Despite her anger at the girl, she worried that this would break Jasper. She had never seen him so despondent.

Regan’s words to Jasper replayed in his head. She wanted to believe Madeleine to be the lovely young lady she had met, that Jasper had spoken of so endearingly, and had spent hours writing music inspired by her. Surely something good could come out of this miserable adventure West. Jasper had always had his eye caught by a pretty girl, but she had never seen him so smitten with one.

“Are you sure you want to go back?” she asked one night. She sat in the rocking chair, combing out her long hair. William was long tucked into bed.

Jasper looked up from where he was reading. “I think it is best. This is no place for us. William is happy with school but he is adaptable.”

Ayla nodded. “I don’t see how we can run this farm, just the two of us. I think I’m going to accept Mr. Wheeler’s offer. He was here again yesterday, and I don’t think I’ll get a better offer. The winters are terrible, if this is any indication.”

“Probably for the best,” Jasper answered. He didn’t ask the question he wanted to. How was Madeleine? Surely the topic had come up with Mr. Wheeler.

It wasn’t his concern, he thought. He had given up the right to know by walking away. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about her, all day, every day. Or the pages and pages of music he had written while thinking of her. Was someone else courting her now? Dr. Belden was married. The artist hadn’t been seen for a while. Courting would be near impossible in the winter, he thought. Which meant she was probably at home with Regan and Miss Trask and her father. Was she missing him? he wondered. Did she miss him a fraction of how he missed her? Did her heart ache with memory at the fun they had together, the stolen kisses that left them both dazed and breathless?

How he missed her. Her delicate laugh, how she always understood what he meant, even when he didn’t have the right words, the way her foot tapped in time to the music, dancing with her, discussing the arts and circus life…everything. He missed it all.

***

“I think Riker’s got us over a barrel,” Lytell groused.

Peter Belden rubbed his forehead. “It’s not looking in our favor. He’s managed to buy up every piece of available real estate. We’ll have to lease the property from him for the rest of the school term. The new schoolhouse can be ready by fall. The men will welcome the work.”

I

t was a cold, clear night that had brought the town council together. They were eager to have the location picked to get the second schoolhouse going. It would be another six weeks or more before they could break ground on the new building.

“Both Matthew Wheeler and Winthrop Frayne have offered to fund the school and the lease to get started. Riker will take full advantage of that, and it doesn’t sit well with me,” Peter said.

The others nodded.

“I just don’t see a way around it,” Johnson sighed.

“I wouldn’t put it past that scoundrel to raise the lease rate if we stall much longer,” Watts said. “’Sides that, we got that little girl here we need to put to work other than just teaching the littlest ones. It’s too cold to be holding school in a barn. Marshal Mangan offered the jail but it ain’t right for them kids to be hanging out there.”

The men agreed.

“All right,” Peter said. “I’ll talk to Riker and finalize the deal.”

***

Jim had paused outside of Lytell’s store, intrigued by the paper he was reading. When he glanced up, his eyes went to the window, and he smiled to himself. Adelia was in the store, near a pile of bolts of fabric. He watched her for a moment, unable to ignore the wistful look as she fingered some pretty fabric in deep blue. It would be gorgeous on her, he thought, matching her eyes. Reluctantly, she ran her finger tips over it one more time and made her way to the counter to purchase something he couldn’t see in her hand.

He stepped back so she wouldn’t see him when he left. He knew room and board was part of her salary but that didn’t leave much in cash, and she had to take care of her sister too. It was evident by their clothing they had no spare money.

Impulsively, he walked into Lytell’s store after she was gone.

“Morning, Mr. Lytell,” he said cheerful.

“Morning, young man,” Lytell answered. He tried to be extra polite to his customers who always paid cash and didn’t need credit.

Jim headed for the bolts of fabric and found the blue material she had been admiring. It was very soft, he thought, and could imagine her wrapped in it. With a smile, he took the bolt to the counter.

“Say, Mr. Lytell, how much of this fabric would one need for a dress?” he asked.

Lytell look surprised, and peered at Jim through his spectacles. “Well, now I don’t rightly know. I guess it would depend on how big the lady is. Is this for your mother?”

Jim smiled and didn’t answer. “She’s about this tall. Rather petite.”

Lytell stroked his chin and reached under the counter, bringing out a dressmaker book. While the two men looked over the guidelines, the bell over the door rang, signaling another customer.

Lytell looked up. “Mrs. Malley,” he greeted her.

“Hello, Mr. Lytell, Mr. Frayne,” she gave them a small smile. Ayla ws not in the mood to be social and hoped to avoid Jim Frayne.

Jim saw an opportunity. “Mrs. Malley, could you advise us a moment on some fabric?” he asked.

Surprised, she walked over, to be polite. “I’ll try. What’s the problem?”

It took her only a few minutes for Ayla to determine the amount of fabric needed. Mr. Lytell cut it and Jim paid for it with a smile and thank you to Ayla. He headed off for Ms. Smith, the local seamstress.










***

Author’s Notes
- A huge thank you to Julie, my editor! As always, she did a marvelous job editing and named the story.
- Word Count, 2,875

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