Cowboy to the Rescue (5 page)

Chapter Five

S
usanna’s laughter died away, and with it her good feelings. Unless she’d missed something, Nate didn’t deserve to be yelled at or scolded like a mischievous boy. In her opinion, it was that Yankee colonel who needed a scolding, and she would be glad to give it to him. He had a noble, good-hearted son, and yet he was beating him down for no good reason.

She’d noticed the difference in Nate the minute they arrived at the ranch. For two days, she’d watched a capable, authoritative, helpful man take care of business. But the moment his father stepped out the front door, Nate became an awkward servant trying without success to please an implacable master.

An uncomfortable sensation stirred in her stomach. Back home in Georgia, it wasn’t just the carpetbaggers who mistreated people. She’d seen for herself how some Southerners treated their former slaves as if no war had happened, as if no Emancipation Proclamation had freed them. She was thankful Daddy and Mama got rid of the plantation and moved to town. There they didn’t have to deal with such things as getting enough people to work in the cotton fields, work they’d always done as slaves but now had to be paid for. The house servants Susanna’s parents had employed received a salary and were well treated. She’d never heard Daddy or Mama speak to a servant like the Colonel spoke to his own son. The Southern man she married would need to understand she expected no less for their servants.

Weariness once again overtook her. She untied and slipped off her walking boots and lay on the bed, but could not sleep. Despite Nate’s being a Yankee, she must somehow find a way to pay him back for his kindness. Even knowing the trouble he would get into with his father, he had saved Daddy and her from untold grief, perhaps even death. That was worthy of a reward of some kind. But what could she do? The Northams were obviously wealthy ranchers, so he didn’t need any material repayment. All she could do was pray and let the Lord work things out.

Her eyelids grew heavy, but she managed to whisper a prayer for Nate to make it through his current scolding without too much difficulty. Even if he was a Yankee...

* * *

“Did you check the entire shipment before you loaded it up?” The Colonel stood behind his large oak desk, bracing himself on his fists as he leaned forward in a threatening pose. With him standing, Nate didn’t dare sit down, no matter how weary he was from his travels. “Every plate? Every cup?”

An unfamiliar thread of assurance wove briefly through Nate’s chest, just before the more familiar anger roared up and closed his throat. Of course he’d checked the shipment before loading it onto the wagon. How stupid did the Colonel think he was that he would have the horses haul home a broken cargo? But a bitter retort never got him anyplace, so he said, “Yessir. Everything was in perfect condition.” He made sure he spoke loudly, clearly and respectfully so his father wouldn’t have further cause to yell.

Yet he couldn’t leave it at that. “It was a good thing Miss Anders was with us.”

Snorting, the Colonel straightened and stared at him as if surprised he would offer additional information without being asked.

Nate hurried on. “When we got to the river, she suggested that we take it over on the train. I mean, the water was fast, and when we took their wagon through first, we drove over a lot of rocks and branches. So I flagged down the train and—”

“And you needed someone else to suggest that obvious solution?”

Nate stepped back, and the heel of his boot hit a chair. Somehow he managed not to lose his balance. “W-well, you had it brought by wagon all the way from Westport because you didn’t trust the trains, so, no, sir, I didn’t think of it.”

Again, the Colonel snorted out his disgust, although Nate had no idea what had him so riled. His father ran a hand across his jaw and sat in his leather-covered desk chair. “Now, about those people—”

“Yessir.” Nate still wouldn’t sit until invited to do so, but the ache in his legs didn’t help his temper. “Those people. I know for a fact that you couldn’t have driven on past them any more than I could.” Where had he gotten the courage to say that? “And you would have been ashamed of me for not stopping to help.”

The Colonel’s eyes narrowed. “That didn’t mean you had to bring them home to burden your mother. You should have left them in Alamosa.”

Nate explained the situation at the hotel. “Even your name didn’t affect the proprietor.” He offered a sheepish grin.

The Colonel didn’t react. “Just make sure your mother doesn’t have extra work. And make sure they leave as soon as possible. That Anders fellow seems like the kind of lazy Southerner who will sit around expecting people to wait on him like his slaves used to do.”

Nate wouldn’t ask how he knew whether Anders had kept slaves. Not everyone in the South had. But his father often spoke disdainfully of Southerners, as if they were all the same, all except Reverend Thomas, the preacher he’d brought from Virginia.

The Colonel snatched up the packing list for the china and thrust it toward Nate. “The first time your mother goes out visiting, you check the shipment again to make sure nothing broke on the way from Pueblo. If it did, I may be able to get a replacement from San Francisco by the time our party rolls around.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I expect you back to work on the new addition before dawn tomorrow. Anders and his daughter may get to sit around, but you’re back on the job.”

Nate started to say he’d been
on the job
during this whole trip to Pueblo, but his father slapped the paper back on the desk, causing him to jump.

“And don’t be getting any ideas about that Anders girl. Maisie Eberly will turn eighteen in a few weeks, and George and I expect an announcement from the two of you right after her birthday.” The Colonel pulled out a ledger and opened it, scanning the pages as if prospecting for gold, effectively dismissing Nate.

He stared at the top of his father’s head. No, he would not be getting any ideas about the lovely Miss Susanna Anders, not her or anybody. He had too many things to work out in his life before taking on a wife or even a sweetheart, not the least of which was whether or not he would keep working like a slave for his father. And he certainly wouldn’t be proposing to Maisie. It wasn’t fair to either one of them. But George Eberly was as domineering as the Colonel, so avoiding marriage could turn out to be the hardest thing Nate—
and
Maisie—had ever done.

* * *

“I’m so grateful to you for sharing your room with me.” Rested after her nap, Susanna sat in the blue velvet bedroom chair while Rosamond Northam and her friend Maisie Eberly sat side by side on the bed. Dark-haired and green-eyed like her brother, Rosamond had her father’s lean face and her mother’s sweet smile. “I’ll try real hard not to put you out.” She’d never had to share a room and had no idea how this girl would react to such an intrusion.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll have a good time.” Rosamond nudged her friend. “Won’t we, Maisie?”

“You bet we will.” Maisie giggled, and her curly red hair bounced as she nodded her agreement. “Just like the Three Musketeers.” She leaned toward Susanna. “Have you read Dumas’s book?”

Caught up in the younger girl’s merriment, Susanna offered a more ladylike laugh. “Yes, but I’m a little rusty with my swordplay.” She searched her mind for specific scenes from the exciting tale. “And I doubt we’ll find any queens to rescue.”

“Maybe just a cowboy or two.” The girls giggled and bounced and put their heads together 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.