Cowgirl for Keeps. Louise M. Gouge

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