Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage Agreement\Cowgirl for Keeps\The Lawman's Redemption\Captive on the High Seas (38 page)

“Must you go?” Rosamond aimed her question at Percy, hearing the strain in her own voice. “You're welcome to stay here while your cousin tends to his duties in town.”

Percy offered a weak smile. “Actually, he's putting me to work, as well.” He looked at Garrick, as if for approval, setting Rosamond's teeth on edge. What actual authority did Garrick hold over his younger cousin? Was bossing Percy around another silly English custom?

“What work is that?” Mother asked Percy. Had she noticed Rosamond's anger and jumped in to stop a conflict? She always managed to smooth away any social unpleasantness.

“There's some chap missing, and Garrick thinks I'm the one to find him.” He shrugged. “At home, I've done a bit of detective work—amateur, of course, because Scotland Yard says they aren't quite ready to hire me.”

While the others chuckled at his humor, Mother hummed with interest, her mellow alto voice further soothing Rosamond's annoyance. “You must tell us all about this missing
chap
.” She turned her attention to Garrick.

“Ah, well, a young lad in town, the new groom at the livery stable...”

He proceeded to give a very brief account of Adam Starling and his family, leaving out anything that might garner praise from his listeners. He made no mention of saving Adam's little brother in the Denver train station or of rescuing the family from starvation once they reached Esperanza. Rosamond's emotions churned, admiration mixing with a remnant of anger. How noble of him to send someone to search for Adam's father. But why Percy?

A quick glance at Tolley's cynical expression revived her own earlier thoughts. She had absolutely no doubt he'd chosen Percy for the job to get him away from Beryl.

Her opinion hadn't changed by Saturday, when the two Englishmen and their valets moved into town, leaving both Beryl and Rita depressed. Even Consuela sighed frequently as she went about her duties, suggesting she missed Richards. Rosamond learned from Rita that they'd also grown fond of each other. Garrick was ripping them all apart. But for what reason?

By Sunday morning, Rosamond needed to spend considerable time in prayer to prepare her mind for the worship service. She didn't want to see Garrick for fear she wouldn't be able to keep from scolding him. But she did want to see him, wanted to tell him she'd missed him yesterday, missed the parlor games and friendly chats they'd all enjoyed every night. If he'd just explain himself, maybe they could work everything out. But he was a closed book, so last evening both she and Beryl had languished about the house like sick puppies.

When they arrived at church, Mother directed everyone to their places, as usual. No one in the congregation claimed a pew as their own, so this morning she chose a row on the right side of the sanctuary, halfway between the front and back. Rosamond noticed she didn't save places for Garrick and Percy. To her amusement, however, when the two Englishmen entered, Beryl left her side and sat with Percy. Garrick nodded a greeting but offered no smile. Rosamond thought he looked sad, but if he was, it was his own fault.

As usual, Reverend Thomas's sermon suited the events of the day. “Reading from Psalm 127, verse one, ‘Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it; except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.'

“Since this small part of the San Luis Valley was first settled about fifteen years ago, the Lord's blessed every endeavor. But we've come a long way in that time, and we're growing bigger. The railroad came through, more folks came West hoping for a new life and willing to work for it. Businesses sprang up. This church was built so we can join together as a community to worship and experience spiritual growth. Homes were built, where we find love and comfort. Now we'll have a high school where young folks can learn about the world and their place in it. We'll have a hotel, a place of rest for the wayfarer.”

His gaze moved slowly around the room. “In the six years since I became your pastor, I've watched families grow and offered this prayer from Psalm 144:12, ‘That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as cornerstones, polished after the similitude of a palace.'

“But we have a more notable cornerstone to our faith. As the Lord says in
Isaiah
28:16, ‘Therefore thus saith the Lord God, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation.' That cornerstone is none other than our Savior, Jesus Christ. If we do not make Him the cornerstone of all that we build, we labor in vain.”

As was her custom when hearing a sermon, especially one delivered by Reverend Thomas, Rosamond listened for that still, small voice telling her, “This is my instruction for you.” Today the Lord's meaning was clear, just as four years ago she'd felt the call to become a teacher. She must set aside personal concerns and dedicate all of her energies to helping build this community, especially her school.

In a way, her family was the cornerstone of Esperanza, but not one of them wished to rule over the town or become, in biblical terms, the “head of the corner.” In fact, Father had begun to step back from leadership three years ago when Mother became ill. During their lengthy absence, first to Boston, then to Italy, the people of Esperanza had joined together to keep the town growing.

Last year, before Father and Mother returned from their travels, an election was held. Humble Edgar Jones, the barber, became Esperanza's first mayor, and several other men were chosen for the governing council. Everyone agreed to and signed the original town charter, which included stipulations that no saloon would be built within the city limits, no alcohol would be permitted and all businesses would be closed on Sundays. All this was done without Father's leadership, and upon his return, he'd been more than pleased to remain in the background.

Rosamond appreciated his wisdom and would try to emulate him. The school wouldn't be hers, but would belong to everyone. In organizing the curriculum, she would merely put into practice the tried-and-true methods of education she'd learned at Fairfield Young Ladies' Academy.

As for the hotel, with most of her disagreements with Garrick worked out, she could leave the rest of the project to him. Well, not the Palladian facade, of course. Yet, as she thought it, she felt another nudge from the Lord, and she knew she must surrender even that.
All right, Lord. If he insists upon such an out-of-place front for the hotel, I won't argue with him any further.
Right away, peace swept over her, and she knew she could deal with whatever came.

* * *

Garrick watched as Rosamond dug her shovel into the dirt alongside Beryl, Mayor Jones and several others. After Reverend Thomas prayed a blessing over the school and all the students who would learn there, a four-foot square pink stone was moved into place. Fred Brody captured the moment with his large black camera. Then the congregants moved on to the hotel site, and the ceremony was repeated, this time with Garrick joining Rosamond and Colonel Northam for the photograph. As the magnesium powder flashed for the second time, Garrick's emotions seemed to ignite, as well. With the cornerstone laid, this grand project would begin in earnest. When it was completed, he could return home to the life to which he was accustomed.

“Now let's eat,” someone called from the crowd, and everyone laughed. Merriment ruled as they made the short trip back to the church, where the ladies promised to bring out baskets of food for the “dinner on the grounds.”

Hungry though he was, Garrick lingered at the hotel site. Although only one day had passed since he'd left Four Stones Ranch, he no longer felt a sense of community with these people. He'd tried to dismiss his childish feelings by reminding himself of his first impression of these small-town American cowboys. They were rustics, one and all, even those with better education and manners. He was an English gentleman better suited to life at Uncle's country manor. That was what he'd known all his life. Even though he wouldn't inherit the title or estate, he'd find a way to serve his three little cousins, perhaps as their tutor. After all, he'd completed his studies at Oxford and possessed all the knowledge required for the post. That idea had come to him after he addressed the boys' Sunday school classes. Perhaps he had a gift for teaching. He'd certainly enjoyed it.

“You coming, Mr. Wakefield?” Adam Starling stood nearby holding little Jack on his hip. “I'll walk over with you.”

“You go ahead. Join the other lads.” Garrick glanced beyond him. “Is your mother all right? And Molly?”

“Yessir.” Adam brushed dust off Jack's short trousers—new ones, if Garrick wasn't mistaken. “They're over with the other ladies, fixin' dinner. You ought ta come. Lots of good food free for the taking.”

The peaceful expression in Adam's eyes warmed Garrick's heart. He'd already been accepted by the other lads, as his mother was accepted by the ladies. Now they just needed their father to return, and all would be right with the world. For them.

As the lad walked away, Garrick sat on the newly placed cornerstone and surveyed the cleared site. The basement had been dug and concrete poured. Next week, a sump pump would be put in place to remove any water that might seep in from the region's high water table. From deep below the Valley's sandy surface, artesian water would be pumped to the hotel kitchen and guest bathrooms on the upper floors. This would be a luxurious, modern oasis in the middle of the wilderness.

“Father sent me to get you.”

Garrick turned to see Rosamond standing some ten feet away, her hands fisted at her waist as though she didn't particularly relish the errand.

“How thoughtful.” Garrick hoped he didn't sound sarcastic. After all, any animosity between them was his fault. “Please tell him I'll come straightaway.” He waited to rise in case she didn't care to return to the church in his company.

Instead of leaving, however, she moved closer, looking around the site. “It's hard to imagine how it's all going to look when it's finished.” The glint in her eyes bespoke some of the excitement he'd felt earlier.

“Indeed. Yes.” He'd agree to almost anything to regain her good opinion. “The drawings on the drafts can never give one a sense of dimensions and ground space.”

Nodding, she proceeded to the temporary wooden barrier around the basement and peered into the hole. “Too bad we can't install an elevator, but I suppose that would be silly for a hotel with only three stories and a basement.”

“Not silly at all. Do you want to hire an engineer to take on the project?”

She smiled, triggering a mild disturbance in the vicinity of his heart. “Let's not cause a delay. The day may come when people are too lazy to climb stairs, but I think it's good exercise.”

“I couldn't agree more.” His stomach chose that moment to rumble, and she laughed.

“I'm hungry, too.” She walked across the level ground toward the site's perimeter. “Let's hurry before all the cowboys eat everything in sight.”

He stood and offered his arm. When she took it, his chest swelled with happiness and a hint of pride for having her at his side. Perhaps they'd progressed beyond the unpleasantness caused by his move to town. Perhaps now they could just be friends. Friends. Nothing more.

Now if he could only believe that lie, he might be able to sleep better at night.

Chapter Ten

O
ver the next days and weeks, the work progressed admirably at both sites. When Rosamond and Beryl weren't working on their lesson plans for the coming year, they rode into town to watch the high school take shape. With so much of their own work to do, they didn't have time for a close inspection of the hotel's progress, and only observed it from a distance. Or so Rosamond tried to tell herself. In truth, Garrick's withdrawal still hurt, and she didn't wish to risk further pain.

Although the Englishmen had come to dinner one Sunday in mid-June and appeared to enjoy themselves, they'd left early, giving no plausible reason for not spending a leisurely afternoon in the country, resting from their labors. Rosamond sensed that Garrick instigated the early departure to separate Beryl and Percy, but the two managed a short visit on the front porch while Garrick fetched the gentlemen's mounts. While Rosamond hoped to converse privately with him, she was impressed that he would take on such a menial chore instead of expecting a servant to tend to the matter. To his credit, the arrogant Englishman no longer rode his high horse.

Over time, the girls gathered supplies and equipment. Beryl's father ordered charts and science equipment for her classroom, including an expensive microscope. Rosamond ordered textbooks, writing supplies and blackboards. Both girls experienced great excitement over having their dream come true, although Rosamond continued to see sadness in her friend's eyes. If she were honest, she'd own up to a bit of melancholy, too. She found herself unable to dismiss all thoughts of Garrick Wakefield.

In the last week of June, the girls inspected the interior of their school and commended Tolley on his work. Rosamond always made sure her brother knew how grateful she was and how much she admired and believed in him.

“Anything for you, sis. Gotta keep the princess happy.” He always responded in a teasing, dismissive way, but she could tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he appreciated her praise. When the school was completed, she had every intention of requiring Father to voice his approval, as well.

After discussing the color of paint and placement of blackboards and desks for each room, they exited the school through the wide opening where the double front doors would soon be hung. Rosamond ran her gloved hand over the unpainted doorjamb without a single splinter catching the fabric. Tolley had done much of the woodwork himself.

“The hotel sure looks grand, don't you think?” Beryl shaded her eyes and stared down the street. “Let's go see how they're doing.”

Her bold proposal surprised Rosamond. Hadn't they agreed to leave the Englishmen alone? She looked toward the beautiful three-story building with its pink stones gleaming in the sunlight. “Yes. Very grand.”

When would they put up that horrid Palladian facade? She didn't mind admitting that Garrick did very well with everything else regarding the hotel. Let others inform him of his mistake about the entrance.

“Come on, then.” Beryl grasped Rosamond's arm and tugged her away from the school.

As they walked, she couldn't keep her pulse from racing in her eagerness to see Garrick. Then she had a bold thought of her own, one that might help her friend. “Do you suppose Garrick and Percy will go to dinner with us at Williams's Café?” That was, if Percy remained in town. He might be away searching for the elusive Mr. Starling.

“We can only hope.” Beryl's pace picked up, and Rosamond hurried to catch her.

Her heart skipped when she caught sight of Garrick. Dressed, as always, in his black linen suit, he stood with Mr. Frisk beside the south wall, which was set back some ten feet from Main Street. Garrick raised his hand in a salute, and his smile promised a warm welcome. Had he watched them approach? Did he admire her as she admired him? Oh, my, these silly thoughts would never do. If his eyes spoke the truth, Garrick clearly did admire her appearance, but he just as clearly didn't want their friendship to grow into something more. Nor did she wish to give her heart to a man who would keep Beryl and Percy apart for no good reason, or a man whom Tolley so strongly disliked.

Once again, she lassoed her maverick heart and tied it firmly in place. Even there, however, the closer she came to Garrick, the more she felt it struggle to get free.

* * *

Garrick's heart tripped all over itself as he watched Rosamond approach. She was, without doubt, the most exquisite young lady he'd ever met, carrying herself with the grace and dignity befitting a duchess even when walking along this dusty roadway. If not for his obligation to secure Helena's future, he could permit himself to imagine strolling beside Rosamond along the Serpentine River in London's Hyde Park. Every gentleman would envy him. Every lady would seek to emulate her style.

Beside Rosamond, Beryl walked with the more boyish gait he'd noticed in all of her sisters, although she'd been far more graceful a mere six weeks ago. How easily she'd fallen back into her Western ways—all the more reason for Percy not to pursue and marry her. After love's first bloom faded, how would his cousin bear to watch his wife swagger across an elegant London drawing room? She'd hold back his every chance at social advancement. Garrick had the unpleasant duty of preventing that, but he felt assured that once they returned home, Percy would recover from his ill-advised attachment to the girl.

As they drew near, Garrick and the master stonemason tipped their hats and bowed.

“Good morning, ladies,” Garrick said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Would you give us a tour of the hotel?” Rosamond's lovely smile redirected his thoughts. He could easily love her entirely. If he surrendered his heart to her, would she wait for him to take care of family responsibilities? Or would that stuffy banker or enterprising newspaperman win her hand while he was away?

“Is Percy here?” Beryl approached the side of the hotel and peered beneath the balcony through a large opening soon to hold a glass display window for a shop, one of six set in the hotel's west side along Main Street.

“Ah. Well. No.” Garrick felt an odd pang of regret when the girl's pretty smile disappeared. She truly was a gentle creature, far less boisterous than her sisters. He had no wish to cause her pain. “He's found a man who worked on the crew laying railroad track from here to Del Norte and who recalled our Bob Starling. The fellow said Starling later joined the crew on the southern arm of the Denver and Rio Grande line. Percy, Richards and the Northams' man, Pete, left yesterday morning to ‘hunt 'im down,' as Pete said.” Garrick added a humorous tone to his words in hopes of cheering the dear girl.

She rewarded him with a sweet, sad smile. “Well, if he's there to be found, I'm sure they'll find him.” She turned away and appeared to be studying the unfinished storefronts along the side of the building, but he could hear her soft sigh.

“Shall we have that tour of the inside?” Rosamond stepped closer and eyed Garrick's arm as if expecting him to comply.

This was a bad idea, but he couldn't deny her request. Coward that he was, he turned to Mr. Frisk. “Sir, what do you advise?”

“Ma'am, I can't rightly say it's a good idea. Won't be safe for anybody but workmen to go inside for another six or seven weeks.” The stocky, middle-aged man shook his head for emphasis. “The men are busy putting up the wood framing for the staircases and inside walls. There's building supplies all over the place.”

“I'm terribly sorry.” Garrick gave Rosamond an apologetic shrug, grateful to Frisk for voicing his own concerns.

“May we peek in the front door?” Her question was amiably delivered, one any passing stranger might ask.

“Of course.” At least he could grant her this request.

Mr. Frisk excused himself to see to other matters, and Garrick held out an arm to each lady. They trod through the dust around the corner to the front of the building.

“The boardwalk will extend along these two sides of the hotel. Those partitioned spaces you saw will house businesses, of course.” Did he sound proprietary, as if this were his project, not a shared effort? That wouldn't do at all. “Rosamond, have you heard from the milliner in Saint Louis?”

“Yes. Mrs. Ryan will arrive in September to open her millinery shop.” She granted him one of her lovely smiles, perhaps a reward for his including her. “What other businesses have applied for space?”

“A Swiss watchmaker. A hatmaker. A tailor.” He ticked the list off on his fingers. “Many of the necessary services a hotel should make available for its guests.”

“Very good.” Rosamond was all business now, staring into the cavernous insides of the work in progress. She and Beryl pointed at various things and shared a few whispered remarks. “I see the braces for the lobby chandelier, but can you move it to the center?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He knew he must grant her some authority in these matters, even though she appeared to have abdicated her position. Had she completely given up? That didn't please him. He missed the spirited lady who'd fought him on the hotel's every detail.

Was this the moment to tell her that the Palladian facade wouldn't be possible? Frisk had explained to Garrick that when the builders had laid the borders of the foundation, they'd set it too close to the street to accommodate a portico. Once laid, the foundation couldn't be changed, nor the street narrowed. Frisk had noticed the misplacement only two days ago and had informed Garrick. Now only the boardwalk would separate the hotel from the street. Would that please her?

No, he wouldn't tell her but instead let her see the actuality. Her idea had prevailed without even the slightest ado. Of course, he wasn't at all pleased, but he was no stranger to such disappointments. Life rarely gave him what he expected, what he hoped for. Why should the front of the hotel, one he could be proud of, be any different? He wouldn't even bother to write to Uncle to explain how the approved designs hadn't been followed. Photographs of the completed hotel would tell the tale.

“Garrick, come to dinner with us,” Rosamond said.

It was a command sweetly delivered, and although he knew of the danger of spending too much time in her company, he could only obey. Soon the three of them were seated around a table in Williams's Café.

After they'd ordered their meals, Rosamond removed her white lace gloves, laid them in her lap and sipped the coffee the waitress brought. “Did you receive a response from Chef Henri?”

“I did. He'll be most pleased to come to America. One of his ancestors fought under Lafayette's command in your rebellion against the Crown, and the family's been keen to immigrate since then.” He chuckled, expecting his remark to bring a laugh. Everyone at home laughed at the French, despite preferring their cuisine. But Rosamond and Beryl nodded solemnly.

“Considering all the conflicts France has endured since our Revolution, with an outcome so different from ours,” Rosamond said, “I believe he's made a wise decision.”

“Oh, yes,” Beryl echoed. “Too bad he won't be here in time for next Wednesday's celebration.”

Garrick blinked. What had he missed? “Celebration? For what?”

The ladies traded a look and giggled.

“Why, the Fourth of July, of course.” Rosamond's green eyes sparkled with amusement. “To celebrate the signing of our Declaration of Independence and our first victory over the British.”

“
First
victory?” Garrick's defensive pride in his home country welled up in his chest. “Whatever are you talking about? I'll grant that you won your independence, but what other victory are you claiming?”

“Oh, please.” Rosamond stiffened her spine and gave him that look his governess had always used to set him straight. “Beginning in 1812, while your Wellington was busy fighting Napoleon, we successfully resisted the attempts of other British military to reclaim their former colonies.”

“Reclaim—”

“What else would you call your navy's impressment of American seamen, completely ignoring their citizenship papers? Your disregard for our borders? Your blocking of our trade with other countries?” To her credit, Rosamond's voice didn't increase in volume, although her eyes held a fiery pride. “But by 1815, once again, ordinary Americans banded together to drive the mighty British army and navy back to the other side of the Atlantic, where they belonged.” She lifted her chin proudly as though she'd won the war herself.

The waitress chose that moment to bring their meals, a welcome distraction. After a prayer of thanks, he considered how to return to the subject about which Rosamond felt so passionate. This was the young lady he so much admired.

He buttered a muffin and took a bite before speaking. “I must make a study of that war. It sounds...fascinating.” He was certain she spoke the truth. Odd that his own studies of British history at Oxford hadn't informed him of that particular conflict. Did Rosamond somehow consider him one of those invading Englishmen? Perhaps the only way to overcome her obvious distaste for all things British was to acknowledge the ills of the past. After all, despite his own earlier disdain for Americans, he'd quickly learned to respect their ingenuity and courage in bringing a form of civilization to this vast wilderness.

“You said your celebration next Wednesday has to do with your first victory over my wretched ancestors.” He grinned playfully, hoping to show his kind intentions with a bit of self-deprecating humor. “Would I be correct in assuming your activities will be something similar to our Guy Fawkes Day?”

Rosamond laughed. He'd struck the right chord. “If you mean will we be burning King George in effigy, as you do Guy Fawkes, the answer is no. But we may have a bonfire along with our fireworks. The town council may have one planned. We always celebrate in fine style.”

“Everyone here takes the day off,” Beryl said. “Even the ranchers and farmers. We all come to town for the Independence Day Fair. We have baking contests, shooting contests, horse races.”