A Cowboy Christmas. Janette Kenny
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miss,” she said.
“Of course. Do forgive me for addressing you as one does the elevated female staff in England.” An odd smile flickered over Hubert’s face as he turned and walked into the house.
Ellie expected she would be given the room off the kitchen, but Hubert strode down the hall to a narrow rear staircase into the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of Reid pounding up the stairs with her trunk on his back as if it weighed nothing.
She wanted to follow now, for Reid would surely deposit her trunk and be gone about his own business. She wasn’t ready to part company with him so quickly, though she should. But Hubert moved at his own pace which was slower than slow.
To dart around him would be horribly rude. So she schooled her eagerness and waited in the hall that was at least warm.
“This way,” Hubert said at last, his features curiously benign as he stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“After you,” she said when she heard heavy boots pound down steps on the other side of the wall—likely Reid going about his business.
Hubert hesitated a moment, then mounted the stairs in that same metered cadence that chafed her nerves. He opened the first door they came to and stepped aside to wave her in.
“Your chamber, Miss Cade.”
“Thank you.”
Ellie stepped into a compact room complete with a bed, dresser and armoire. Reid did an injustice by calling it adequate.
Why, it was far larger than the room she’d grown up in at her uncle’s house. It was far more welcoming than her cramped garret room at the boarding house. And all this light!
Windows on two walls gave her a good view of the ranch outbuildings and lent the room a spacious feel.
She set her satchel down beside her trunk and crossed to the windows, thinking this vista surely rivaled any Christmas postcard she’d seen. “It’s a beautiful sight.”
“It has a certain rustic charm,” Hubert said. “You’ll find the kitchen in relatively good order. When Mrs. Leach was away, I availed myself of the facilities, though I am not adept in the kitchen.”
That made two of them.
“I’m sure I’ll manage.” Though she knew she’d need a good deal of luck when she prepared her first meal tonight.
“If you require meat or game,” Hubert said, “inform me and I’ll send word to Moss.”
“Moss?”
“The mess-hall cook,” he said.
Ellie heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled the pin from her hat and set it on the dressing table. At least she wouldn’t be expected to cook for a crew of hungry cowboys.
“Are you from England, Hubert?”
“Indeed. I was born in the Cotswolds.”
“What brought you to Wyoming?” she asked.
“My former employer, Kirby Morris,” Hubert said, and turned somber. “Would you care to inspect the kitchen?”
“I’d love to.” She tucked up a few stray hairs that had escaped her bun, then followed the little man down the stairs.
The abrupt change in subject confirmed he didn’t wish to say more about Mr. Morris. Ellie understood, for she’d never been one to talk about her past either. She’d divulged her secret once to her fiancé, and that brought about the end of her engagement and got her promptly dismissed from the Denver Academy for Young Ladies.
Still, her curiosity was peaked about Kirby Morris and how his very British butler ended up being in Reid’s employ.
She paused once at the bottom and tried to place the low hum of masculine voices deeper in the house. She couldn’t make out the words, but she recognized Reid’s voice. Who was the other man?
“Your domain, miss,” Hubert said, and she was obliged to join him into the kitchen.
“It’s lovely.” An understatement.
Though Ellie was a virtual stranger in a kitchen, she certainly appreciated the light pouring in the bank of windows. The cooking range was monstrous, larger than the impressive one her uncle had bought for his home. How she’d love to be able to cook appetizing meals on this stove.
Hubert opened a door along the back wall. “The pantry was recently stocked with essentials, though you may find it lacking certain items of import.”
Ellie stepped inside and gazed up at the tins and boxes of dry goods. A large flour bin took up the width along one wall. She ran a hand over the smooth tin surface, marveling it was as shiny as a mirror.
A door banged deep in the house, and a man’s string of curses carried clear into the pantry. “If I get my hands on that sonofabitch, I’ll string him up. Hubert!”
“Coming, sir.” The old man sighed. “Excuse me.”
The butler left, and she stood there gawking at the door as curses continued to fill the house. Reid sounded livid. What in the world had happened?
Ellie hurried across the kitchen and paused at the door that opened onto the main hall. She looked down it, but didn’t see anyone. The torrent of foul oaths appeared to come from a room near the front of the house. Common sense told her that was likely where Reid’s ranch office was located.
She certainly didn’t want to get caught touring the house, and strolling down the main hall would likely do just that. A door to her right stood open, so she stepped inside.
Of course. The servants’ entrance to the dining room. A long, dark table and more chairs than she cared to count dominated the spacious area. Her stomach pitched at the thought of satisfying so many palates.
She walked the length of the room, Reid’s curses becoming clearer. His office must be next to this room, and he must’ve expended his anger because the house suddenly fell silent.
Ellie peeked out the other door into the main hall. Across from her, pocket doors were open to reveal a very formal parlor dressed in the richest looking brocades she’d ever seen.
She cocked her head. All she heard was the pounding of her heart and the metered ticking of a clock. She inched into the hall, her fingers sliding along the smooth paneled walls to the half-shut door. A peek through the crack confirmed this was an office, and a well-appointed library as well. But was it empty?
“I can’t believe this has happened,” Reid said, answering her unspoken question and sounding terribly close.
Ellie crept back toward the dining room door, careful to be quiet. She certainly didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping.
“Did anyone see who took the stallion?” Hubert’s question froze her in place.
“Booth claims Ezra Kincaid was seen riding him hell-bent for thunder,” Reid said. “That old outlaw has got more guts than sense to pull a stunt like this.”
Ellie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She ducked into the dining room and flattened her spine against the door. Her mind reeled with what she’d just overheard.
This made no sense to her. According to Mrs. Leach, her pa was here to exact revenge on the cowboy who framed him for murder years ago. Why in the world would he draw attention to himself by doing something as stupid as stealing Reid’s horse?
Chapter 3
Reid stilled, catching a faint whiff of lilacs. Just like in the saloon, the swift warming of his blood left him a mite lightheaded.
So did the woman. Ellie must be close for her scent to reach out to him and glide over his skin, stroking, teasing and tempting. Feminine, yet unmistakably bold.
Yep, she was a daring one to march into