Cowgirl for Keeps. Louise Gouge M.

usually after some loud noise sent her into a fit of trembling. A textbook slamming to the floor. A plate shattered in the dining room. Sometimes even the chime of the academy’s bell-tower clock.

      “You must tell your mother about your fears.” Like her four other daughters, Mabel Eberly was a feisty, resilient woman who’d gained her strength after moving west. Surely she’d know how to help her middle daughter.

      Beryl shook her head. “I can’t. She won’t understand. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

      With a reluctant nod, Rosamond exhaled crossly. The evil men who’d shot Beryl now languished in the Canon City prison with twenty-five to thirty-year sentences. They should count themselves blessed. If she’d died, they’d have been hanged. Rosamond prayed they’d never be set free. Not after they’d destroyed Beryl’s peace and confidence.

      While they ate their boxed dinners, the train descended into the San Luis Valley. Warmer air now streamed into the car as the engineer made up for lost time. Wind from the south swept across the Valley floor, sending a gauzy black curtain of smoke past the window. After a short stop in Alamosa, where the lawman turned the outlaws over to the local sheriff, the train sped over the tracks toward Esperanza.

      She sometimes heard the Englishmen talking but couldn’t distinguish their words over the rumble of the train. Maybe they’d like to see the sand dunes at the foot of Mount Herard. She doubted such a natural wonder existed in their country. Yet from those first snobbish words she’d heard the dark-haired man say in the Denver station, she assumed he wouldn’t appreciate any of the wonders of America.

      Rosamond’s heart began to beat in time with the clatter of the iron wheels on the track. Her parents would be waiting at the Esperanza station, maybe one or two of her brothers, as well. She couldn’t wait to see everyone, including Rand’s bride of just over a year, her own former roommate.

      When she and her parents had traveled to Boston for Mother’s health and to enroll Rosamond in the academy, they’d become very fond of sweet Marybeth O’Brien. Certain she was the perfect bride for Rosamond’s second brother, her parents had arranged the marriage. Now they had a baby boy, cousin to her oldest brother Nate’s boy and girl, darling children to carry on the Northam legacy.

      Rosamond felt a familiar pang. She’d love to be a mother, but no husband would permit his wife to teach other people’s children and neglect her own. Certain of her calling from the Lord, she must choose to regard her students as her intellectual offspring.

      The train chugged into Esperanza and slowed to a screeching stop, puffing out great blasts of gray-white steam. At the sound, Beryl twitched nervously.

      “Shall we go?” Rosamond stood and gathered her bag and parasol.

      “Can we wait until the crowd disperses?” Beryl gazed up at her, eyes brimming.

      Rosamond sat. “All right.” But not for long. She’d already spied her younger brother, Tolley, standing with two of the Eberly sisters. My, he’d grown tall over the past two and a half years, towering over Laurie and Georgia. She couldn’t wait to get back home with her beloved family and friends.

      “Dear ladies, may we assist you in any way?” The blond man stopped by their seat.

      Rosamond smiled. “Thank you, but we need another moment.”

      “Of course.” The dark-haired gentleman bowed. “We’ll wait outside to help you down.”

      “That would be very kind.” What had changed his attitude?

      “We’ll be waiting just outside,” the blond man repeated. He and his friend walked toward the front of the car.

      “Everyone’s gone.” Rosamond stood and gripped her tapestry bag. “We must go.” She was bursting with excitement even as she ached for Beryl.

      As promised, the two men awaited them. The blond man helped Beryl down, his solicitous smile warming Rosamond’s heart. The dark-haired man offered her no smile, only his gloved hand. When she took it, she felt the strength that went into knocking the outlaw senseless.

      “Thank you,” she managed to say over an odd little lump in her throat.

      “Well, now.” A familiar bass voice sounded across the platform. “I see you young folks have met.”

      “Father!” Rosamond dropped her bag and flung herself into his outstretched arms. “Oh, it’s so good to be home.”

      “My darling girl, you’ve grown even more beautiful since last fall.” Father placed a kiss on her cheek and then held her at arms’ length. “How was your trip?”

      “See here.” Mother pushed herself into the mix to embrace Rosamond, her fragrant rosewater perfume sweetening her welcome. “I want my hug before we talk about the trip.”

      One by one, her brothers, Nate, Rand and Tolley, greeted her with eager embraces and teasing words. The crowded platform grew chaotic as other passengers connected with loved ones and gathered luggage. Lifting a prayer for Beryl, Rosamond waved to her friend, who was whisked away by two of her four sisters.

      “Colonel Northam, I presume.” The dark-haired Englishman approached Father, hand extended.

      “Garrick Wakefield.” Father pumped the man’s hand with enthusiasm. “Welcome to Esperanza. I see you’ve met my daughter.” He brought Mother forward. “Charlotte, may I present Mr. Wakefield, Lord Westbourne’s nephew and representative?”

      An indescribable sensation charged through Rosamond. What on earth was happening? Had the haughty Englishmen come to see Father? To do some sort of business with him? She glanced toward her brothers, but only Tolley looked her way, edging closer and putting an arm around her waist.

      “Who’s the dandy?” The annoyance in his voice echoed her own feelings, and she responded with a shrug.

      “Mrs. Northam.” Mr. Wakefield, all deferential now, kissed Mother’s hand and then brought his blond friend forward. “Mrs. Northam, Colonel Northam, may I present Percy Morrow, my cousin. He accompanied me to your beautiful country.”

      So now it was a beautiful country, not a wasteland? While the blond man spoke pleasantries to her parents, Rosamond rolled her eyes. Tolley snickered. How interesting that friendly Mr. Morrow was stuffy Mr. Wakefield’s cousin. The two couldn’t be more different.

      “How did you and Rosamond meet?” Father put an arm around Mr. Wakefield’s shoulder as he would Nate or Rand. The Englishman squirmed a little.

      “Actually, sir—”

      “Gracious, Father.” She leaned into her younger brother’s comforting shoulder. “I haven’t met this gentleman. With no one to introduce us, propriety prevented our meeting.”

      Her two older brothers howled with laughter.

      “My, my,” Rand said. “Our little cowgirl’s become all sophisticated.”

      “Do you suppose she’s forgotten where she came from after two and a half years in that highfalutin eastern school?” Nate, the oldest, nudged Rand. “We’ll have to remind her.”

      “Never you mind.” Rosamond would enjoy their teasing much more if Mr. Wakefield weren’t watching with such an interested—or should she say, an appalled—expression. “Just wait. You’ll see I can still keep up with the likes of you.”

      “That’s enough foolishness.” Father beckoned to her and draped his arm around her shoulder. “Rosamond, may I present Mr. Garrick Wakefield. I met his uncle, Lord Westbourne, when your mother and I were in Italy last year. The earl’s sent Garrick to build that hotel Esperanza’s needed. Since this will be a joint business venture, you’ll be working alongside Garrick to see everything’s done right.”

      She heard Father order her brothers to collect her trunks. Heard Mother chattering about a special supper at the ranch. But Rosamond could only stare at Mr. Wakefield while he stared