The Countess and the Cowboy

“Of course.” Scrambling for a way to change the subject, Eve remembered her other reason for coming here. “Perhaps you can help me out with a suggestion. I’m looking for a strong young girl to help with the heavy work in the house. Alice is good in the kitchen, but with her rheumatism...”

“Oh, I know what you mean, dearie. The poor old soul can barely get around as it is. I do have a girl in mind. The family she worked for moved away, so she’s looking for employment. Very willing and reliable. Her name is Beth Ann.”

Dearie?

Eve drew in a startled breath. She disapproved of the formality of everyone calling her by her title, yet this seemed to go too far in the other direction. But this wasn’t England, she reminded herself. If she wanted to belong, she would have to get used to Americans and their easygoing manners.

“I’m not sure what kind of salary I should offer her,” she said. “Back in England, servants were tied to the family for generations.”

“Room, board and three dollars a week should be plenty. If she’s interested, can I just send her out to the ranch?”

“Certainly. On approval, of course—mine and Mr. Hanford’s. Since she’ll be around the children her language and behavior must be suitable.”

“She’ll do you fine.” While Eve counted out change, Mrs. Simpkins put the sandwiches, buns and cookies in a paper bag with a napkin. “Have a lovely picnic, dearie!” She waved them out the door.

Dearie. Eve bit back her instinctive frown and forced herself to smile and wave as she led her charges to the boardwalk.

By the time they’d walked up the other side of the street, peering in a few shop windows, the children were getting tired. They’d been far too quiet on this outing, Eve thought. If only she could lift their sadness and get them to laugh and play. But that, it seemed, would take some time.

Rose tugged at Eve’s skirt. “My shoes hurt, Aunt Eve,” she whined. “I want to go home now.”

Thomas kicked a clod of mud off the boardwalk into the street. “Where’s Papa? Why is he taking so long?”

Eve sighed. “Let’s go into the hotel and find out. He said we could wait for him in there.”

The Lodgepole Hotel was nothing like the fine places Eve had visited in England. The lobby was the size of a small parlor, with a wooden bench, two straight-backed chairs and a potbellied stove, unlit on this warm summer day. A badly mounted grizzly bear head, the mouth open in a snarl, hung above the desk. At the sight of it, Rose shrank against Eve’s skirts.

“I’m not scared of it. It’s dead, just like the ones in our house.” Thomas pretended to shoot the beast with a make-believe rifle.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The clerk, scarcely more than a boy, moved with a limp. A battle wound, perhaps, or just an accident?

“Yes, thank you,” Eve said. “We’re waiting for Mr. Roderick Hanford to drive us home. I don’t suppose you know when his meeting will be finished.”

“They’re in the back room. Don’t know when they’ll be done, but I can check for you.”

“Please don’t disturb them. We can wait.” Eve settled herself on the hard bench and pulled the children down on either side of her. But it soon became plain that the little ones were too restless to wait patiently. Rose was squirming, and Thomas kept finding excuses to jump up and race around the lobby. Unaccustomed to such behavior, Eve could feel her patience wearing thin. More than an hour had passed. What was taking Roderick so long?

Another ten minutes crawled by. Eve had given each of the children a cookie to quiet them, but it wasn’t enough. Rose had begun to whine. Thomas was scuffing his heels against the end of the bench with maddening repetition.

Eve caught the young clerk’s attention. “Perhaps you can just look in on that meeting. See if they’re about to finish.”

“Sure.” He disappeared down a back hallway, returning a moment later. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it looks like they’re still talking and...uh...playing cards.”

With an impatient huff, Eve picked up her basket and reticule and rose from the bench. She could drive a buggy as well as any man, and she was tired of waiting here with these bored, cranky children while Roderick played cards. “When Mr. Hanford gets out of his meeting tell him we were here, but that we could not wait for him any longer. He can jolly well find his own way home.”

The buggy was waiting where they’d left it, hitched to the rail in front of the hotel. Boosting the children into the back, Eve freed the reins, climbed onto the seat and clucked to the drowsing horse. As a girl, she’d learned to handle a buggy on outings with her father. Now she could put the lessons to good use.