Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage Agreement\Cowgirl for Keeps\The Lawman's Redemption\Captive on the High Seas (27 page)

The three men made their exit without argument, so Garrick concluded that the ladies gave the orders in this family. As much as a turn around the ranch might refresh him, he wouldn't contradict either young Mrs. Northam by insisting upon going with their husbands. Percy didn't seem to mind the change of plans. But then, very few things bothered him.

Susanna, a tiny blonde with an accent he recognized as from the American South, turned her attention to Rosamond. “We can manage supper. You take our guests on a tour of the house.”

“Oh, but...very well.” Miss Northam removed her apron. “Come along, gentlemen. We'll start with the dining room.”

She led them through the swinging door by which they'd entered earlier. The room was surprisingly large, with a mahogany table long enough to seat twelve and matching sideboard and china cabinet, the same sort of furnishings Garrick planned to order for the hotel. Such luxuries could be a sign of Northam wealth. Possibly.

“I say.” Percy paused before the large glass front cabinet. “Wedgwood china, is it not?”

Miss Northam nodded. “Father gave it to Mother for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It was the talk of the San Luis Valley.”

“I should think so.” The words, borne on a laugh, slipped out before Garrick could stop them. Miss Northam's indignant look made it clear he'd offended her...again.

* * *

At Fairfield Young Ladies' Academy, Rosamond had learned that one never made another person feel uncomfortable, even when that person was rude. After all, one couldn't truly know what someone else was thinking. This man, however, was easy to read, even without speaking a word. His obvious disdain for her beloved Valley didn't bode well for their working together. Why had he come here if he held Americans in such contempt?

She schooled her face into a tight smile. “Shall we go to the parlor?”

They followed along, with Percy making pleasant remarks about various bits of bric-a-brac or paintings, some of which Rosamond hadn't seen before. Her parents must have purchased them in Italy when they'd traveled there last year for Mother's health.

Some new furnishings also graced the parlor—chairs, side tables, figurines. It still felt like home to Rosamond. They passed through to the ballroom, which Nate had built five years ago for the twenty-fifth wedding-anniversary party. Mother loved to entertain, and many times the community gathered here for special events. Although not used daily, the room was spotless, probably due to the efforts of Consuela, the new housemaid. Mother had written about the young Mexican girl they'd employed to help Rita manage the house. Too bad no one had written to Rosamond about the hotel.

“What a charming ballroom.” Garrick's expression appeared to reflect true admiration. “One would hardly expect...I mean...” He ran his hand over the carved mahogany balustrade beside the three steps descending into the room.

Rosamond withheld a laugh. Was he truly arrogant or merely socially awkward? “Why, thank you, Mr. Wakefield.”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I heard you say first names are the custom here. Please call me Garrick.”

“I will.” She accepted his olive branch. “Please call me Rosamond.”

“A lovely name, to be sure.” His gentle tone surprised her. Was he trying to make amends? Or was she being too hard on him? “A family name?”

“No. I was named for Rosamond Oliver in Charlotte Brontë's
Jane Eyre
, Mother's favorite novel.”

The pleasantries seemed to break the tension between them. Along with Percy, they spent the next half hour exploring the rest of the house, including Father's office and library. He'd added many books while Rosamond had been away. “Feel free to borrow any of these to read at your leisure.”

“Ah, American authors.” Percy studied the names on the book spines. “Mark Twain, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott. I shall be delighted to read them.”

“And you, Garrick?” For a moment, Rosamond's heart hitched with an odd sort of hope. How she wanted to hear he enjoyed reading as much as she did. But why? He wasn't a potential suitor. Gracious, no, not when they seemed only to tolerate each other.

“Yes, of course.” He also perused the books. “One cannot graduate from Oxford without obtaining a great appreciation for fine literature.”

So much for her hopes of common interests. Oxford, indeed. She doubted his education was any better than her own.

And she was expected to consult with this arrogant man? It wouldn't work. After supper tonight, she'd make Father understand that simple fact.

* * *

Garrick attempted to follow the conversation over supper, tried to speak when appropriate. But with ten adults around the table, some not schooled in the proper way to converse at mealtime, he didn't have to try hard. The playful banter among the brothers and Rosamond helped them reclaim the years of separation. Unlike English customs, they found talking across the table acceptable instead of only conversing with the persons to one's right and left.

Further, no one here dressed for dinner. Although the brothers washed hands and faces after their chores, they'd come to the table in their work clothes, dusty trousers and all. Nor did footmen serve the meal. Instead, the cook and the young ladies carried steaming bowls and platters to the table. Everyone passed the food around and served themselves. At least Garrick's and Percy's valets possessed the good sense to decline Mrs. Northam's invitation to eat with the family, insisting upon eating in the kitchen with the cook. Perhaps Rita, the senior servant despite being quite young, could explain to Roberts and Richards how she ran the household so they wouldn't get underfoot while tending to their own duties.

To Garrick's relief, after supper the two older sons and their families departed for their nearby homes, leaving behind a measure of peace, as well as a minor concern. Guests in an English house were expected to participate in the evening's entertainment: reporting the latest news, joining a game of whist, offering to read a favorite passage from a book. What did one do to amuse Americans in the evening? Travel weary though he was, he must somehow participate in whatever activities they offered or risk offending his host.

Colonel Northam soon put that concern to rest while igniting another. Like the military officer he'd been, he ordered Tolley to entertain Percy and sent Garrick and Rosamond to his office. Considering the young lady's obvious dislike, Garrick steeled himself for an uncomfortable interview.

“Have a seat.” The Colonel waved them to leather chairs in front of his desk. Mrs. Northam sat beside her husband. “I know you're both tired, so I won't keep you long. Just want to give you some marching orders so you can get started on Monday. That's the day I'm leaving on business, so it's on your shoulders now.”

“Father, this hotel business is a complete surprise to me.” Rosamond fidgeted. “You said in your letters I could build my high school this summer.”

A high school? Garrick sat up straighter and eyed the pretty lady beside him. Obviously, she had a concern for the education and welfare of the lower classes, just as her namesake in
Jane Eyre
did. His esteem for her rose.

“No reason you can't do both.” The Colonel's affection for his daughter resonated in his paternal tone and warm gaze. “Plenty of workers around now that this leg of the railroad's finished.”

“Yes, but—” Her voice was tight, and her smile a grimace. “Surely Mr. Wakefield has made his plans. Why would he need my help?”

The Colonel chuckled indulgently. “The hotel needs a woman's touch, and your mother has enough to do. That leaves you. Why did I send you to boarding school if you aren't going to use what you learned? Not only that—” he held up a letter, and Garrick could see the elegant
W
of Uncle's seal on the stationery “—Lord Westbourne likes the idea just fine. He has complete trust in you and Garrick to create a fine establishment for European and American tourists alike.”

“Well, then.” Miss Northam clearly didn't care for the project any more than Garrick, but she at least had her school. Garrick's future, and Helena's, depended entirely upon this man's good opinion and cooperation. “With your approval, sir, we can begin tomorrow.” Against his usual reserved behavior toward young ladies, he offered what he hoped was a charming smile to Rosamond. “Shall we?”

She returned one of her prim looks. “I believe Father said Monday. Tomorrow I'll help my brothers with cattle branding. Then I'll take Percy to meet Beryl. And of course the day after, we'll go to church. Do you attend church, Mr. Wake—Garrick?”

“Rosamond!” Mrs. Northam's soft voice resounded with shock. “Of course he goes to church.”

Colonel Northam laughed out loud. “At least he will while he's in this house, won't you, my boy?”

Heat rushed up Garrick's neck. Did they mean to insult him, or was this just banter, like the dinner table conversation? He'd choose to believe the latter. “I try never to miss church, sir. Nothing sets the tone of a man's week like an hour of worship and a stirring sermon.”

“Well spoken. You'll be glad to know our Reverend Thomas always delivers a thought-provoking message.” The Colonel stood and reached over the desk. Garrick rose and shook his hand. “Now you get a good night of sleep. If you're interested in watching the cattle branding tomorrow, you're welcome to come on out. If not, please feel free to use my library.” He indicated the shelves Garrick had perused earlier. “Good night.”

With this clear dismissal, Garrick took his leave of these people who held his future. As he trudged up the elegant front staircase and down the long hallway, he could hear laughter coming from Percy's room. Through the partially open door, he saw Tolley was paying Percy a visit, as ordered by his father. Apparently the two got along well. Garrick was happy for his cousin. As long as he enjoyed himself, he'd stay in Colorado, where Garrick would need him now more than ever, should things become impossible for him to bear.

* * *

“Now, Rosamond.” Father gave her a rare stern look. “I understand your concerns, but working on both projects will prepare you for your many and varied headmistress duties.”

“Yes, Father.” How could she argue against his faith in her? Didn't she believe just as strongly in her own ability to manage the school and at the same time teach both boys and girls just a few years younger than herself?

“You can always ask me for ideas.” Mother came around the desk to sit in the chair Garrick had vacated. She grasped Rosamond's hand. “As a girl, I spent many happy days visiting my grandfather's hotel in Philadelphia. And, of course, the hotels in Italy cannot be surpassed. I can describe them to you in detail, and I'll help in any other way you ask.”

“Now, Charlotte, I won't have you overdoing. You manage the house. That's enough.” Father's eyes filled with concern. “In fact, you need more help, and I don't mean Rosamond. She'll be busy. I'm going to hire more help for the gardening and other such things.”

“Oh, Frank, don't coddle me.” Mother gave him an intimate smile, one that made Rosamond ache for the kind of love her parents shared. “I'm fine. Now, enough about me. Let's hear about Rosamond's trip home.”

Taking the hint, Rosamond launched into a description of her last days at the academy, the graduation ceremony during which both she and Beryl had received academic awards and their lengthy train travels. They'd already heard about the attempted robbery from Sheriff Lawson, so she brushed past the event. When she almost fell asleep in the middle of her own narrative, her parents ushered her upstairs to the comforting warmth of her bedroom.

Despite her exhaustion, she knelt beside her window as she had as a child to view the sparkling diamonds sprinkled across the velvet black sky. In Boston, with its many streetlamps and lighted buildings, she'd missed the stark beauty of Colorado's nighttime skies. She'd also missed this window spot, where she'd learned to pray and to leave every concern in the Lord's hands. Tonight she prayed for Beryl, anticipating their reunion tomorrow. She prayed for her school and her future students and, finally, for willingness to obey Father in helping the Englishman build the hotel.

When she awoke the next day, the sun already shone on the alfalfa field outside her window. In the bright midmorning light, everything seemed possible, even working alongside Garrick. A joyful, giddy feeling swept through her as she dug around in her wardrobe for her split skirt, plaid shirtwaist and riding boots. After donning her comfortable cowgirl garb, she raced down the backstairs to the kitchen. She took care not to sing, even though a song played in her mind, lest Garrick hear her as she entered the kitchen and be offended again.

Her worries were groundless. Only Rita and one of the valets occupied the room. Curiously, the valet had rolled up his sleeves and plunged his hands in the soapy dishpan up to his elbows.

“What would you like for breakfast, Senorita Rosamond?” Rita was preparing sandwiches for the men who were branding the cattle, but she took a moment to stoke the fire under the skillet and lay in some bacon. “Two slices of bacon, two sunny eggs, two biscuits, strawberry jam and coffee?”

“You remember.” Rosamond wasn't surprised. A mere eighteen years old, Rita already managed the entire household. More proof that Rosamond's twenty-one years wouldn't hinder her from completing both of Father's projects.

“
Sí
, senorita. How could I forget?” She poured coffee for Rosamond and set it on the breakfast table.

“May I be of assistance, Rita?” The young valet, Roberts, dried his hands on a tea towel. “I can fix Miss Northam's breakfast while you finish those sandwiches.”

Rita gave him a sweet smile, and her brown eyes sparkled. “I'd be most grateful, Senor Roberts.”