Cowgirl for Keeps

He stopped, and his blond eyebrows shot up. “Oh, my. I wouldn’t think of doing it any other way.”

With that settled, Rosamond sent him on to the house while she went to the barn to see which horses were available. Pete, one of the older cowboys who no longer took part in branding, hurried over to greet her. After they’d exchanged pleasantries, he volunteered to saddle three horses for her by one o’clock.

Maybe she should have asked Pete to go with her. Now she’d committed herself to an afternoon with Garrick. Oddly, the thought didn’t depress her as much as it should have.

* * *

“Very good work, Roberts.” Garrick studied his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. “You’ve managed wonders. A cold but cleansing bath and perfectly pressed clothes.” In the mirror, he checked the back of his fresh ensemble as he tried to dismiss the incident from his mind. At Eton, he’d never have lived down such a humiliating ordeal, even years later. One hapless chap whose family didn’t come up to snuff in Society’s view still received the scorn of former classmates over a similar event. When Garrick lost his position as Uncle’s heir, he’d fallen into that same category in some people’s opinion.

He knew Tolley had deliberately tripped him, but accusations would be fruitless. All the Northam brothers found the accident amusing. Perhaps he’d passed some sort of cowboy initiation when he stifled his chagrin and laughed with them. He prayed no more such incidents occurred. After checking his hair in the mirror, he sniffed his hands for the second time. “I can’t detect a single bit of cow odor. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Roberts maintained his usual blank facade, although Garrick had seen him smile at the attractive young Mexican cook. If romance was budding, Garrick must nip it lest Roberts decide to stay in Colorado. Nor would Rita fit in as a servant in England, not even in the most liberal households. More important, Garrick couldn’t afford to find a new valet. Roberts, being young and newly elevated to his position last year, settled for lower wages than a more experienced gentleman’s gentleman demanded. Further, Garrick had trained him to anticipate his needs. The loss would be dreadful.

Percy knocked as he entered. “Ready to go?”

“Your riding gloves, sir.” Roberts handed Garrick the tan leather accessory.

“Thank you.” Garrick was tempted to tell his man to spend the afternoon washing his trousers and shirt, but that would be an insult. Roberts knew what his duties were. Garrick could only hope the washing area was nowhere near the kitchen and pretty little Rita.

After searching for their horses at the front of the house, he and Percy found Rosamond by the back entrance with three saddled beasts. Why did they use the servants’ entrance when the house’s facade was quite lovely, albeit quaint? These Americans. At least the family employed a groom to see to the horses. Despite the saddle’s oddly shaped pommel, he soon found his seat and easily kept up with Rosamond as they rode across fields, paths and gullies.

They slowed to a walk and turned down a lane to a ranch similar to Four Stones, with an attractive two-story white house and numerous outbuildings, including a giant red barn.

“I say, Rosamond.” Percy rode beside her. “Good idea to ride over to your neighbors’ instead of walking. All those little streams and fences would be rather a challenge to cross on foot.”

She laughed in her musical way, a sound Garrick was becoming entirely too fond of. “I’m so glad you’re pleased, Percy.”

Garrick felt a pinch of jealousy, although he knew Percy’s interest lay elsewhere. Why couldn’t he and Rosamond get along as easily? He couldn’t worry about that today. With Percy so keen on getting acquainted with Beryl, not to mention his silly vow to marry her before the end of summer, Garrick would have more than enough to do keeping his impulsive cousin from ruining his life. In England, with his large inheritance from his father’s trade, Percy could marry any heiress, even an aristocrat, and begin to move into the higher levels of Society. Why would he waste his life on a nervous American cowgirl? Yet Percy was in no hurry to meet his future and had insisted upon coming with Garrick to America simply for a lark.

* * *

Rosamond rode to the back door and dismounted, tying her mare to the hitching rail. “I smell cinnamon. Mabel must be baking.”

The men followed her up the back steps.

“You don’t mean to walk right in, do you?” Garrick frowned.

She returned his look but quickly forced a smile. She must remember English customs were different. Even in Boston, she’d never entered a friend’s house without knocking.

“Yes, I do. Mabel would be bothered if I knocked. She’d have to stop her work to answer.” She opened the door and entered.

The two men followed hesitantly, but Rosamond hurried through the back hallway and into the large but cozy kitchen. “Hey, Mabel.”

Plump, red-haired Mabel Eberly dropped her spoon into the stewpot and turned, her merry face beaming. “Rosamond, honey, come on in.” She embraced her warmly and then held her at arm’s length. “My, you’re even more beautiful than ever.” She glanced at the Englishmen. “I know who these fine gentlemen are. Howdy, boys. Beryl told us how brave you were when those outlaws tried to rob the train. And George says you’ve come out here to build that hotel.” She beckoned to them. “Come on in. Have a seat.” She waved a hand toward the kitchen table. “Would you like some cinnamon rolls and coffee?”

Rosamond prayed they wouldn’t rebuff Mabel’s offer. While Garrick stood back, his handsome face crinkled in confusion or maybe consternation, Percy stepped over to Mabel.

“Rosamond, would you please present me to this charming lady?”

His formality tickled Rosamond, but she did the honors in all seriousness.

“Mabel, this is Percy Morrow. Percy, remember, first names out here.”

Percy kissed her hand, and Mabel’s sweet face turned even redder than usual. “Oh, go on, now.”

Rosamond summoned Garrick with a whip of her hand and a glare Mabel couldn’t see. “This is Garrick Wakefield.”

He must have realized the importance of compliance, because he followed Percy’s example.

“What fine manners. Now sit down.” Mabel ushered them to the table and served coffee and a plateful of fresh cinnamon buns. Her merry manner seemed to set the men at ease, for they didn’t hesitate to eat.

Seated by the door, Rosamond heard a soft tst. While Mabel plied the men with rolls in exchange for their life stories, Beryl peeked in and beckoned to Rosamond. In the hallway, Beryl embraced her fiercely.

“Rosamond, save me. Get me away from here.”

“What’s wrong?” Rosamond knew the answer. She’d happily donned her comfortable ranch clothes, but Beryl wore one of her Boston dresses. Underneath, Rosamond felt her tightly laced corset.

“It’s my sisters,” Beryl whispered anxiously and glanced toward the back door as if fearing they’d enter. “They expected me to jump right into work.” She bit her lip and stared at her hands. “I’m willing to do my share, but I can’t bear to get all freckled and rough-skinned again.” A tear slid down her ivory cheek. “I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“Nonsense.” Rosamond hugged her. “You’ll get used to home life again.” She didn’t believe that herself. Beryl’s fears ran deeper than how her complexion looked. Rosamond thought of one way to help her. “Come meet those Englishmen.”

Beryl’s blue eyes widened. “Not like this.” She swiped away tears.

“Go freshen up.” Rosamond forced a cheerful laugh. “Your ma is feeding them her cinnamon rolls, but they can only eat so much.” She smirked. “The blond gentleman wants to meet you.”

Beryl’s eyes rounded in wonder. “Truly?”

“Truly. Now hurry.”

While her friend complied, Rosamond returned to the kitchen. The two men stood, as they had last evening. Their refined manners pleased her. Not every man understood the importance of such a gallant gesture.

“Beryl wasn’t expecting company.” She sat in the chair Garrick held for her, another chivalrous move on his part. Her opinion of him rose a little. “She’ll join us soon.”

“Capital.” Percy’s blue eyes brightened just as Beryl’s had.

Garrick, however, frowned as he reclaimed his chair. Rosamond’s opinion of him plummeted. How could he dislike sweet Beryl when he didn’t even know her?

“So, you boys are planning to build that hotel.” Mabel poured coffee for Rosamond.

“Not I, madam.” Percy chuckled. “I accompanied Garrick so I could see the famous—or should I say, infamous—American West.” He leaned toward Mabel with a playful smirk. “I believe the train robbery was staged entirely for our amusement, what?”

Mabel slapped his shoulder and howled with laughter. “You’ll do fine out here, boy. You’ll do fine.”

He grinned despite his coffee sloshing onto the tablecloth. Again, Garrick’s frown revealed an opposite reaction, disapproval of the kind lady who was showing him such generous hospitality. Before Rosamond could frown back at him, Beryl entered.

The men stood, and Percy stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “Miss Eberly, I presume?”