Hill Country Cattleman. Laurie Kingery

wonderingly. “Not a ‘would-be writer’ or an ‘authoress,’ as Edward calls it, both of which sound rather condescending, don’t you think? Even Gerald doesn’t understand why I want to try to write—” She stopped suddenly, as if she’d said too much.

      “Who’s Gerald? Another of your brothers?” he asked, though her rising color betrayed the answer before she spoke.

      She shook her head. “No, my other brother is Richard, the vicar. Gerald is...well, he’s the man I’m in love with, back in England. He’s the Earl of Lullington,” she said, looking down at her riding boots. She spoke so softly that he had to strain to hear, but when he made sense of her words, his heart sank.

      She was in love with a nobleman, and apparently, he with her. Of course she’d found someone to love, someone who was titled and wealthy, as she was. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.

      “You must miss him a lot, this man. I’m surprised you could leave him for so long,” he said.

      Again, she looked surprised, and maybe even a little taken aback by his frankness.

      “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business,” Raleigh said. “I don’t know what came over me to say such a meddlesome thing.”

      She shrugged. “It’s all right. I’m the one who mentioned Gerald. And I didn’t have a choice about coming here, if you want to know the truth.”

      Now it was his turn to feel surprise. “But you seemed so happy to be in Texas,” he said.

      She shrugged. “I figured I might as well make the most of it,” she said. “I do love the West, and seeing Nick and meeting his wife and son, of course. But Edward thinks Gerald isn’t a suitable match.”

      “I see.” He wanted to ask why, but he’d been too nosy once already.

      “He thinks if he separates us for a time, I’ll forget about Gerald. But I won’t, of course.”

      He noticed she didn’t say “we’ll forget about each other.” And there was an uncertain look in her eyes, as if she couldn’t speak with confidence about her beau’s feelings for her.

      “I’m sure no man in his right mind could forget about you, Miss Violet.”

      She smiled wanly up at him. “You’re a very nice man, Raleigh. But I mustn’t take up any more of your time. I’d better be going, or my brothers will worry. Thank you for checking to see that I wasn’t hurt.”

      He wanted her to stay and talk to him, but her flushed face told him she’d probably been out long enough. “I’ll bring your horse,” he said. He held a hand on the mare’s bridle as she mounted.

      “I imagine I’ll see you Sunday?” he asked as she gathered the reins and settled herself in the saddle.

      “Sunday?” she said blankly, as if her mind was still on their conversation—or the day held no special significance to her.

      “At church?”

      “Oh. Oh, yes, I imagine so. Thanks again for checking on me, Raleigh.”

      He watched as she cantered away. So Miss Violet had a beau back home. He couldn’t help wondering why her elder brother disapproved of the man, since he was of the same social class. Was this “Gerald” fellow somehow objectionable, or did Edward Brookfield merely think Violet was too young as yet to settle down? None of your business, he reminded himself.

      But perhaps knowing Violet’s heart was already taken would remind him to protect his own.

      * * *

      “Violet, I’m going into town today to buy supplies at the mercantile. Would you like to come with me?” Milly asked. “I’m going to stop at my sister Sarah’s before the mercantile—she’s usually willing to watch little Nick for me while I shop. Then we could have a visit with her. If we time it right, I’m sure she’d feed us,” she added with a wink. “And I’m going to invite her and her husband, Nolan, to come to supper tomorrow night, so they can see Edward before he leaves Saturday afternoon.”

      Edward would be gone in two days. Violet knew she would miss her eldest brother. However much they disagreed about Gerald, she knew Edward loved her. Would she feel freer once he’d departed? Or would Nick suddenly become superprotective in Edward’s absence?

      “Yes, that sounds lovely. I’d quite enjoy coming along,” Violet said. The outing fit right into what she’d been planning to ask Milly. “Perhaps I could buy some fabric while we are there? I’ve been wondering if you’d teach me how to sew. I’ve seen that you’re quite the seamstress, and I’ve become aware much of the clothing I’ve brought is...well, rather too elaborate for Texas, since it’s so warm here,” she said. She was trying to be tactful so as not to offend her sister-in-law as she accidentally had the waitress in the hotel.

      Milly looked surprised, then pleased. “I’d like nothing better,” she said eagerly, then looked thoughtful. “I saw just the cloth at the mercantile the last time I was there—a light blue cotton with tiny white flowers that would be perfect with the color of your eyes, if Mrs. Patterson still has it. If not, I’m sure we can find something else just as good,” she said confidently. “I’m not sure we’ll get it done before church on Sunday, but we can at least get a good start. Nick will be taking Edward to Lampasas Saturday afternoon, and he’ll probably stay through supper with him, so we should have some time.”

      “Don’t feel you must rush,” Violet said. “It takes my modiste weeks to make me a dress. And she doesn’t have a young son to mind and meals to prepare....” She was already in awe of how much her sister-in-law accomplished in a day. She couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be, though, to have a new dress to wear so she would fit into her surroundings. And in case she encountered a certain cowboy at church....

      “We’ll see how it goes,” Milly said. “I’d offer to lend you a dress or two of mine meanwhile, but you’re taller—and a mite more slender than I’ve been since Nicky was born,” she added with amusement.

      * * *

      “Mrs. Patterson, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Miss Violet Brookfield, who’s visiting us from England,” Milly said as they entered the Simpson Creek Mercantile.

      A woman with salt-and-pepper hair in a no-nonsense bun and alert dark eyes smoothed her hands on an apron before extending it to Violet. “Heard yore English relatives were visitin’,” she said. “How d’ya do, Miss Violet? This here’s my niece Kate, who’s come to live with me and help out in the store,” she said, nodding at a brown-haired girl who stood behind her, holding an open box of glassware packed in crumpled newspaper.

      “Mrs. Patterson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Violet said. “And you, too, Miss Kate.”

      Kate Patterson blinked in obvious surprise at Violet’s accent, a reaction Violet was becoming all too accustomed to since arriving in Texas. Probably she, too, had goggled the first time she had heard a Texas drawl, she thought.

      Violet smiled, wanting to put the girl at ease. Kate reminded Violet of a fawn poised for flight.

      “I ain’t never heard—I mean, I’ve never heard a real English person talk before,” Kate said wonderingly. “Well, except for your brother, of course. You sound a bit like him, I reckon.”

      “Mrs. Patterson, we’re here to buy some dress lengths, both for me and for Violet,” Milly said. “Do you still have that light blue cotton—oh, I see you do,” she said, spotting it on the shelf behind the woman and pointing to it. “What do you think, Violet?” she asked as the shopkeeper lifted it down and placed it on the counter between them.

      Violet studied it, then took it to a nearby window to take advantage of the light. Milly has a good eye, she thought. The china-blue echoed the color of her eyes, and the fact that the cloth was sprigged with white flowers instead of the usual white background sprigged with colored flowers added interest.

      “It’s