Give Me A Cowboy. Jodi Thomas
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into any store in town and buy whatever she liked on account.
But, Laurel almost said aloud, she didn’t have enough cash to buy a cup of tea.
The ten dollar gold piece had been a gift from the headmaster when she’d graduated. Laurel had kept it with her for two years, hoping one day she’d be brave enough to buy a train ticket for as far as ten dollars would take her. Once she’d asked if she could have the salary her father paid the last bookkeeper. Her father had laughed and told her she was lucky to have a roof over her head and food to eat.
“Miss?” The young maid stood at the doorway with a wicker tray the size of a plate. “A lady upstairs ordered this tea, then said she didn’t want it. You’d be doing me a favor if you’d take it.”
“But I haven’t—”
“There ain’t no charge for it.” She set the tray on the table next to Laurel.
“Thank you.” Laurel smiled. “You’re very kind.”
Rusty curls tossed about her shoulders. “We all do what we can, Miss, to help each other.”
Laurel felt humbled by the maid. She offered her hand. “I’m Laurel Hayes.”
“I’m Bonnie Lynn.” The maid laughed nervously. “Pleased to meet you, I am.” Now it was the maid’s turn to be uncomfortable. “I got to go.”
“I hope to see you again,” Laurel said. “Thanks for the tea.”
Bonnie Lynn nodded and hurried out of the room.
Laurel leaned back and sipped her tea. She’d let go of her ten dollars on a hope. A hope that if it paid off would allow her to go all the way to Kansas City, or Houston, or maybe even Santa Fe. She’d have enough money for the train and then a few months at a boarding house. She’d look for a job at a bank or as a bookkeeper. She was good at what she did. Her father’s books had never been off a penny since she’d started managing them.
Lost in her daydreams and plans, Laurel didn’t hear Jeffery Filmore come into the hotel until he was at the door to the parlor. He always reminded her of a bear someone had dressed up and trained to act proper. When he removed his hat, his hair wiggled across his balding head like thin wrinkled wool and his complexion always appeared sunburned.
“There you are,” he bellowed. “I saw your sisters come in and guessed you’d be about.”
Laurel didn’t answer. She never answered his ramblings for Jeffery talked only to hear himself.
She expected him to storm off, but he barged into the room and stuck out a piece of paper. “Your father wanted a list of the names of those who entered for best all-around in the rodeo. You can take it out and save me a trip. I know it’s not as many as he’d hoped would enter, but after seeing some of the rough stock a few of the men backed out. They say one of the steers turned on a roper and killed him in El Paso last month. Some of the bucking horses look like they’re too mean to be worth the bullet it’d take to kill them.”
“Isn’t that the kind of stock a rodeo needs?” she asked.
“Yeah, it makes for wild rides and a man who puts much value on his life would be wise to stay in the stands and watch.”
She lowered her head, hoping he’d leave.
Like a nervous elephant, he shifted from foot to foot.
Finally, she looked up.
He didn’t wait for her to ask any questions. “I’ve come to terms with your father, Laurel. We’ll marry the end of August. No frills, just a small ceremony after Sunday services so I can teach you what you don’t know that afternoon. My bank records require a higher standard than your father’s ranch accounts.”
“But…”
He rushed on as if he already knew what she might ask. “You’re to have a new dress, of course, for the wedding, but nothing too fancy. I see no need for parties, or a honeymoon. I’ve already had that with my first wife, and your father agrees with me that such things are just a waste of money.”
Laurel stared openmouthed at his ramblings. She wanted to shout that she’d never been asked to marry him and, if she had been, she would have said no.
Jeffery didn’t stop. “You’ll work with me at the bank Monday through Thursday, then I’ll drive you out and you can do your father’s books Friday and Saturday. Your father said you could ride out alone. You’ve been making the trip between there and town for years, but I see no need to have to board a horse in town. I’ll take you and pick you up.”
He paused as if allowing questions in his lecture.
A hundred screams log-piled in her mind, but all she managed to say was, “I’ll have Sundays off?”
He huffed again. “Of course. A banker and his family are expected to be in church every week. It adds stability to his name. After church, we’ll want to invite your father and sisters to dinner. It’s only proper if they make the drive into town. He assures me you’re a passable cook. Once they’re gone, you’ll need time to do the laundry.”
Her head felt like mice were eating away inside it. All rational thought left her. “Family. What family?” she started before he interrupted her.
“Don’t be an idiot. You’re far too old for it to be cute to play dumb.” He frowned at her as if he found her only mildly tolerable. “I’m not a young man, Laurel. We’ll have a baby before we’re married a year. I prefer a son, but if it doesn’t happen, we’ll try again until I have an heir who can eventually take over the bank.”
He stared at her. “You are a virgin? I told your father I’d have nothing less.”
As she reddened, he laughed. “Of course you are. You know little of these things, but I know my seed is strong. My first wife was pregnant within a month of our marriage, but she wasn’t healthy enough to stay alive to deliver full term.” He stared at her. “Don’t worry, your father says you ride every day. Such exercise makes you strong and hardy.” He grinned to himself. “My seed will grow in you. You’re like rich dirt, from strong stock and ready to be made use of. Lots of children will round that thin frame out nicely in time.”
Laurel was too horrified to answer. She lowered her head and focused on the piece of paper Jeffery had given her. Rowdy Darnell’s name stood out.
He had to win, her mind whispered. He had to.
The banker heard her sisters and hurried to pay his respects without another word to her. He was all smiles and pats with them. Like her father, Jeffery seemed to think every senseless thing they said was funny. She could imagine what his Sunday dinners would be like.
She almost laughed aloud. They’d be pretty much like they were now. Sunday was the housekeeper’s day off. So Laurel cooked and cleaned up while everyone else complained that none of the food was good enough, hot enough or served fast enough.
Laurel closed her eyes and blocked out all the noise coming from the others. She focused on the way Rowdy had touched her waist so gently when he’d helped her down from the surrey and again in the shadows when he’d bumped into her.
She smiled. He’d touched her as if she mattered.
Chapter 3
The sun bore down on Rowdy as he rode toward his father’s farm. He’d always hated the place and July was the worst month, hot and dry. But he looked forward to being alone. When he’d first gone to prison at fifteen, he thought he’d go mad with the loneliness, but finally he grew to prefer it. There were so many people in town for the rodeo that he felt like the air had thinned just so it would last. He rode hard until town was well out of sight and land, more prairie than farm, stretched before him.
His father had sold their farm in East Texas and moved here after Rowdy’s mom died. He could get almost ten times the acreage for the same money. The old man had planned