Cowboy to the Rescue. Louise M. Gouge
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in a familiar way. Despite their differing coloring and features, they were like two peas in a pod.
Susanna’s heart warmed. What nice young ladies, although at sixteen and seventeen, they still had some growing up to do. She had no doubt Mrs. Northam was responsible for any measure of decorum her daughter displayed, but the way they had noisily run up the front staircase a while ago revealed that both of them also possessed a bit of Colorado wildness. Someone should establish a finishing school out here. They would probably find many students among ranchers’ daughters. Of course, Susanna would never correct them, for that in itself would be a dreadful breach of etiquette. All she could do was set an example of refined behavior.
A soft knock on the door interrupted their merriment, and a dark-eyed girl of perhaps fourteen poked her head in the door. “Miss Rosamond, Mrs. Northam requests your presence in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Rita. Tell her we’ll be down soon. And bring us some hot water and towels so we can wash up.”
“Yes, miss.”
Rita disappeared, and the other two girls continued their discussion of musketeers and scheming cardinals, comparing them to the cowboys they knew. Although they mentioned several names, giggling all the while, not once did they say anything about Nate. Susanna couldn’t imagine why she had even thought about that. Clearly, Maisie was too young to be interested in him, at least romantically.
Those few moments revealed much to Susanna. While the Colonel was stern to the point of rudeness, his family was more lighthearted. Further, she was glad to see they treated their servants with courtesy. But she guessed that Rosamond, being the only daughter, was a little bit spoiled. Susanna had never failed to go immediately when her parents called. Indeed, she would gladly answer Mama’s summons once again.
She thrust away the grief that tried to engulf her. She couldn’t go back to those days, and until she could get Daddy back to Marietta, she must learn to live as a pioneer woman, whatever that meant. Although she was about two or three years older than these girls, she would open her heart and let them teach her. And maybe she could teach them something in return.
* * *
With Maisie on one side of him and Rosamond on the other, Nate could hardly enjoy his steak for all of their chatter and giggling. In contrast, Susanna sat across from him eating her supper with the grace of a duchess. Funny, that was the second time he’d thought of her in that way, yet he’d never even met a duchess. He must have read about one in a book. The thought made him grin. He’d enjoyed their brief chat about books while they were on the trail. Maybe they’d have a chance to do it again.
Guilt wove through him. The Colonel would probably do all he could to keep Nate away from Susanna. He glanced toward the end of the table. His father, watching him with an inscrutable look, bent his head toward Maisie. Nate groaned inwardly. She was a sweet little gal, but still just a child, despite being almost eighteen. How could the Colonel think she was ready for marriage? In Nate’s opinion, the way she and Rosamond acted was just plain silly, something that had never bothered him before, but now got on his nerves.
Rebellion kicked up inside him. He looked at Susanna again, determined to talk to her rather than Maisie, and his rebellion turned to—jealousy? Chatting with his middle brother, Rand, on one side and his youngest brother, Tolley, on the other, she hadn’t even glanced across the table at him except to give him a smile and a nod before the Colonel said grace and they all sat down.
Rand was yammering on about something, bragging, really. Until this moment, Nate hadn’t given a second thought to a match between the two of them. Even at twenty, his younger brother was about as grown-up as his sister and her friend. Yet here was Rand obviously trying to impress Susanna with some tale about how cattle brands were designed, of all things. As if a refined young lady wanted to hear about that. Yet she focused on him and responded with interest, even including Tolley in the conversation.
Tolley’s beaming response earned Susanna another surge of Nate’s admiration. Hardly anybody paid attention to fifteen-year-old Tolley, and the boy had begun to show signs of rebellion. Nate was worried but had no idea how to help him.
“But Nate wouldn’t want to do that, would you, Nate?” Maisie elbowed him in the ribs and laughed in her schoolgirl way.
“Uh, what?” He glanced at Rosamond, silently quizzing her with a raised eyebrow. Fortunately, she sat adjacent to Mother’s place at the end of the table nearest the kitchen door, so the Colonel couldn’t see his confusion.
“Of course he would.” Rosamond gave him a furtive wink, then leaned around him to address Maisie. “Who else would escort us up into the hills to get flowers for our flower beds?” She lifted her coffee cup and saluted her friend. “Mother agrees with our idea. Columbines will make a beautiful addition to our garden. Being native to Colorado, they sure won’t take as much work as Mother’s roses. We can fetch home enough to fill that new garden patch, and they’ll be all rooted and growing by the anniversary party.”
Her foolish chatter gave him all the information he needed, and he offered his sister a grateful nudge. “Girls, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m afraid the Colonel needs me here at the ranch. I can’t run off for a picnic when this house has a two-story addition I need to finish.” He shot a glance at his father, expecting his agreement, but the Colonel’s expression was surprisingly agreeable.
“I believe a day trip to acquire some columbines for your mother would be a fine idea.” He served himself another helping of mashed potatoes and ladled on a large portion of beef gravy. “You three youngsters can go tomorrow. Ride horseback instead of taking a wagon, and you’ll be back in time for milking.” He dug into his supper as if that settled the matter.
The girls chirped like baby birds as they made plans for the upcoming day trip, but Nate could only stare across the table at Susanna in dismay. No wonder the Colonel gave his permission for such a trivial excursion, for it would force him into Maisie’s company. Nate should invite Susanna along, not only for good manners but also so he would have some intelligent conversation along the way. But if she didn’t know how to ride like his sister and Maisie, he’d be stuck with two chattering magpies for a whole day.
* * *
Susanna had learned in finishing school that a lady didn’t talk across the table but rather engaged in conversation with those seated beside her. In this case, it wasn’t too difficult. Rand was almost as funny as Nate, and he could spin a yarn nearly as well as her own brother back home. But the quieter Tolley touched her heart. His sad brown eyes made her think of a puppy pleading for approval, and when she turned her attention to him, he all but jumped around in happy little circles. A glance across the table from time to time gave her a new perspective on Nate. Those girls were making him dizzy with their back-and-forth chatter, but he took it in good spirits, another admirable quality.
She was surprised that Colonel Northam said very little beyond blessing the food and telling poor Nate that he had to take the girls out to pick flowers. If she wasn’t so worried about Daddy, she would hint that she’d like to go with them, as she hadn’t ridden a horse since they left Marietta four months ago. The girls had been quick to welcome her into their friendship, and she could almost see herself feeling at home here for as long as she had to stay in Colorado.
A glance at the Colonel canceled those thoughts. He was glowering at her as if she were some sort of bug that needed to be squashed. Her own uncharitable thoughts back toward him crowded out all of her good feelings. She and Daddy would never be welcomed even as temporary guests in this community. This Yankee colonel had not ceased to make that very clear to her.
Oh, she couldn’t wait for Daddy to get back on his feet so she could take him home where they belonged.
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