To Seduce a Texan. Georgina Gentry

at her. “I’m sure that with stalwart young men about like the major and my son, you needn’t worry your pretty little head about those dirty Rebs attacking this town.”

      At least he had said “pretty.” Obviously Mr. Simms and his son had designs on the bank’s assets, too.

      “Oh, I’m not worried,” she said, cutting up her roast beef. “I’m quite convinced Kansas has seen the last of the action. Indeed, as I was telling Godfrey this afternoon, I intend to take charge of the bank myself on my birthday per my mother’s will.”

      “Halloween,” she heard Godfrey mutter under his breath, “how very appropriate.”

      The other men looked shocked and the major said, “Surely you jest, Miss Burke?”

      “Not at all.”

      Godfrey laid down his fork and cleared his throat. His expression told her he’d like to stick that fork in her heart. “Don’t take my stepdaughter seriously, gentlemen. Perhaps she’s had too much to drink.”

      “I have not,” she snapped and the other men looked at each other, uncertain what to say in the awkward silence.

      Doc Graham drained his glass and looked about. “I could use another glass of wine. Excellent vintage.”

      “Me, too,” said the other gentlemen to cover the awkward pause.

      The butler went about the table, filling goblets. Rosemary waved him away again. She didn’t want any more of her conversation dismissed because the men thought she’d had too much to drink.

      Doc Graham already looked drunker than a boiled owl, she thought, and wouldn’t know an excellent wine from moonshine, but he was the only doctor in town.

      Doc Graham drained his wine without tasting it and looked down at his plate. “Oh, pinto beans, I see. I don’t think I’ve eaten those since the night I was here for dinner and Agatha…” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Miss Rosemary, I didn’t mean to bring back sad memories.”

      It’s quite all right,” Rosemary said. “I understand you did everything you could to save my mother.”

      “Yes, he did.” Godfrey sighed and the others nodded. “You were away at school and we’d had such a lovely dinner party and were all still having coffee in the library when my dear wife was stricken with acute appendicitis.”

      “There just didn’t seem to be anything to be done.” Mr. Simms shook his head. “She lingered on for three days in terrible pain.”

      “I heard,” Rosemary said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here before she died.”

      “I prayed over her,” Reverend Post said, “and your stepfather held her hand all night. Never saw such devotion.”

      Godfrey pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, my dear, you didn’t get home in time for the funeral. My poor darling Agatha. I miss her still.”

      “Uh, perhaps we should talk of lighter matters,” young Mr. Simms said uncomfortably.

      There was an awkward silence before young Mr. Simms talked again of business.

      Was there any way she could bring this dull evening to a close as the conversation dragged on?

      Finally she said, “Godfrey, why don’t you take the gentlemen to the drawing room? I think I may retire early so I can ride early in the morning, and I’m not feeling well.”

      Both young men jumped up to jostle each other about who got to pull out her chair as she stood up.

      “No, no, gentlemen. You all retire to the drawing room for cigars and brandy. I’m going upstairs.”

      Godfrey looked relieved. “Very well, my dear. Good night.”

      All the men said good night and offered concern for her health, but she assured them she was only tired, nodded and left the dining room, attempted to make a graceful exit, but her hoop caught on a potted fern in the door and she had to stop to pull it free before leaving. She paused at the foot of the stairs, listening. The men were moving toward the drawing room, talking business as usual.

      She ought to go upstairs and try washing the blood out of the white silk scarf. Godfrey would be so cross when he saw it. Worse yet, she didn’t want him asking questions and discovering she had wrecked one of his pet orchids.

      She knew Godfrey was already furious with her for the small fuss at the table before his guests. She was powerless for less than three weeks and then she would take over everything. It was all hers unless she met with an accident, and though she was clumsy, she didn’t expect anything fatal. She went upstairs, got Mollie to help her out of her corset, and dismissed the sour girl. There was a small lamp burning on her bedside table and while Rosemary dug through her lingerie drawer for a nightgown, she found a large peppermint stick left over from at least two Christmases ago and a romantic novel she hadn’t read: Lady Cavendish and Her Secret Love or Carried Off by a Highwayman. She tasted the peppermint as she crawled into bed. No candy was ever too stale to eat, and the romantic novel looked promising.

      It was a long time before she turned off her light, dreaming of being the beautiful, desirable Lady Cavendish.

      The tumbledown cabin by the river seemed to be a good hiding place, and now Waco sat on a rock in the darkness overlooking the river. They were many miles from town and well hidden in a grove of cottonwoods. He rolled a cigarette, thinking. He was responsible for his men, and that weighed heavily on him. There was only one way to get the money they needed, yet he didn’t like the idea. It didn’t seem too chivalrous, certainly not to a Texan, to kidnap a sweet little lady like that banker’s daughter and hold her for ransom, but nobody had a better idea. After all, it was so evident that the banker adored her and surely would pay anything to get her back. Of course her father wouldn’t call in the law or the army; he’d be too afraid something would happen to sweet Miss Rosemary. Why, in a day or two, three at the most, the quartet would be headed back to Texas with all the gold they needed.

      Yep, tomorrow, Waco was gonna find the banker’s mansion and scout things out to see when would be a good time to snatch her. He’d try not to scare her or make her cry, but like most women, she’d surely be terrified. Of course, he would see that not one hair on her head was harmed. No Texan would treat a lady that way. Of course, true Texans probably wouldn’t kidnap a lady neither, but he was desperate and running out of time.

      He tossed away his smoke and went back into the tumbledown cabin to spread his blankets on the sagging floor. Tomorrow early, he’d tell the boys the details.

      Rosemary was awake before dawn and dragged the sleepy, protesting Mollie out of bed to help her into her corset and a blue wool riding outfit complete with a jaunty hat with feathers on the side. Then she let the sleepy maid go back to bed while she rummaged around in the kitchen for a bit of breakfast. She didn’t want to get the cook up or wake that snooty new butler. She would have loved a cup of coffee, but she had no idea how to accomplish that. The cook always made her muffins and jam or coddled eggs, but Rosemary didn’t even know how to work the wood stove. Finally she settled for some cold milk and half a cake from last night, which made her very happy. She sliced some crusty bread and cold roast beef for a picnic lunch, wrapped it up in a napkin with a dozen cookies. Then she got an apple for her horse.

      The house was still quiet and dark. She wished she could get some evidence on Godfrey St. John; she’d always been suspicious of his handling the bank’s money. Thinking that, she tiptoed into the library, crashed into a table, but managed to catch the lamp before it fell. She lit it and quietly rummaged through his desk. She had no idea what she was looking for and she didn’t find anything except a handful of speckled pinto beans, some of them cut up into tiny pieces. That puzzled her. Well, beans didn’t belong in a desk anyway. She picked up several and stuffed them into her pocket as she dug through the drawers. Nothing of importance. She thought she heard people stirring about upstairs, hurriedly closed the drawers, and blew out the lamp. She didn’t want to get caught