Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage AgreementCowgirl for KeepsThe Lawman's RedemptionCaptive on the High Seas

by Renee Ryan

  Garrick dashed onto the track and snatched the child back moments before the great black engine chugged into the station, steam blasting from its undercarriage. He restored the toddler to his hysterical mother. Beside her, a teary-eyed lad of perhaps fourteen years held a small girl.

  “Thank you, sir. I didn’t see Jack wander off.” He stuck out a grimy hand. “I’m Adam Starling.”

  “How do you do, Adam?” Moved more than he cared to admit, Garrick shook the lad’s hand. Clearly he endeavored to be the man of the family. Garrick knew very well the problems faced by an eldest son. As others congratulated him, he brushed past them. His train would depart momentarily, and he must drag Percy from his stupor induced by watching the scene. Poor chap. He always hesitated in times of crisis. Perhaps on this trip he’d learn to be a bit more aggressive.

  “We should board.” Garrick nudged his cousin’s arm.

  “I say, old man, brilliantly done.” Percy walked beside him toward the first-class coach. “Nothing short of heroic.”

  “Nonsense.” Garrick hated such praise. If he were a true hero, he’d have saved another Jack five years ago. The hapless village boy had sunk beneath the black surface of Uncle’s lake before Garrick could reach him. His lifeless body was found in a marsh days later and returned to his widowed mother. If only Garrick could have reached him.

  Remorse wouldn’t restore life to that Jack, but it did spur him to help the less fortunate whenever possible. Besides, if he craved admiration for today’s actions, it was from the beautiful young lady in lavender, who’d boarded the train before he even noticed the child’s dire circumstances. Too bad she hadn’t observed the drama.

  A foolish thought, but a momentary diversion from the unwelcome duties that lay ahead. Lord, help me had been his cry to the Almighty since losing all of his expectations, and would continue to be until his dying day.

  *

  Rosamond Northam waited until she and Beryl Eberly sat down in the first-class coach before venting her indignation. Even when she did, the lessons learned at Boston’s Fairfield Young Ladies’ Academy didn’t fail her.

  “Gracious, what an arrogant man.” She spoke in a soft tone, holding back harsher words she’d have used three years ago. Being back home in Colorado, back among her own people, would challenge every lesson she’d learned, especially when a foreigner—an Englishman at that—criticized her beloved homeland, particularly the state of Colorado.

  “His friend seemed pleasant enough.” Beryl spoke wistfully and stared out the window as if searching for the men. “Dignified, too.”

  “Don’t look for them.” Rosamond gently patted Beryl’s hand, her heart twisting with concern.

  “I wonder if they’ll be on this train.” Beryl glanced over her shoulder and gasped softly. “They’re sitting back there on the other side. Do you suppose we could meet them?”

  “Shh!” Rosamond sent her a scolding frown. “No, we can’t meet them. Why would you want to? If anything, I’d like to show the dark-haired man just how unrefined we can be, as in behaving in our old cowgirl ways, talking loudly with improper grammar.” She smothered an undignified giggle and risked a quick look their way. My, the dark-haired man was handsome to a fault. Too bad good manners didn’t accompany that well-formed face and physique. “But someone else in this coach may be traveling to Esperanza. Our school’s reputation would be ruined before we even build it if we teachers behave in an unseemly fashion.”

  Beryl’s face lit briefly with humor. “That dandy could use a comeuppance, but I wouldn’t wish to offend his friend.” She settled back in the leather seat and gazed out the window again.

  Rosamond’s heart ached for Beryl. The middle child in a family of five girls, she’d been every bit a cowgirl like the rest of them until she had been shot during a bank robbery and almost died. Rosamond and the five Eberly girls had grown up riding, shooting, branding—anything a cowboy did. But Rosamond’s family had three grown sons and a passel of hired hands to tend to the many duties around Four Stones Ranch, so her parents agreed to her dream to build a high school for Esperanza. With the Lord’s blessing, they could construct the school this summer and open it in September. Rosamond hoped Beryl’s parents would let her teach rather than return her to ranching.

  A well-dressed older couple took the two seats facing the girls. On the trip across the country, other such couples and matrons had offered themselves as chaperones, and these two did the same, engaging Rosamond and Beryl in conversation and keeping at bay undesirable men. The lady smelled of rosewater just like Mother, and the gentleman of cherry tobacco like Father. What pleasant reminders of home. Upon the couple’s arrival, Rosamond saw Beryl relax a little. Perhaps her interest in meeting the young man was generated by a desire to feel safe. Rosamond could find no fault in that. Maybe the Lord would make a way for Beryl to meet the nicer Englishman, hopefully without his arrogant friend nearby to crush her spirits.

  For her own part, at twenty-one, she’d given up on romance. None of the eligible men she’d met in Boston had found her personal ambitions compatible with their need for a docile Society wife. Nor did she wish to assume the many responsibilities of a rancher’s wife. Without doubt, God called her to educate the youth of Esperanza; therefore, she’d be a spinster.

  The train chugged out of the station and rumbled southward along the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains, where the morning sun illuminated snowy peaks. Rosamond drank in the beloved sights of her home state. Later they passed Pikes Peak, and in time her beloved Sangre de Cristo Range came into view. Her heart skipped. She would arrive home in just one more day.

  *

  After a night in a Walsenburg hotel, Rosamond and Beryl boarded the westbound train for their last day of travel. Rosamond sat on the aisle in the middle of the car and whispered to Beryl. “Don’t look now, but those sissified Englishmen boarded after us.” She nodded toward the closed window. “You can see their reflections.”

  Beryl’s face brightened for the first time since they’d awakened that morning. The closer they traveled toward home, the bleaker her mood. Too bad a handsome foreigner was the one to cheer her. To Rosamond’s dismay, her friend did turn. And look. And smile!

  “Tst!” Rosamond kept her voice low. “Don’t do that. Remember our lessons in deportment. It just isn’t done.”

  “I know.” Beryl sighed. “He started to tip his hat, but his friend stopped him.”

  “What?” Rosamond glanced back at the other man. He tilted his head, and surprise crossed his well-formed countenance. He seemed about to smile. With a haughty sniff and lift of her chin, she faced the front. That snob kept his friend from showing a common courtesy to a tender soul like Beryl and then attempted to flirt with her. The very idea!

  The train moved forward, and Rosamond’s heart skipped. They’d be home by midafternoon.

  “Let’s talk about our plans.” She must divert Beryl’s attention from the Englishmen. Although they’d exhausted just about every subject during their long trip, she never tired of her favorite one. “I’m thankful Father’s already approved the building of the school, but I hope he’ll let me supervise its construction.”

  “Aren’t four classrooms too many?” Beryl chewed her lip, and Rosamond reminded her with a quick shake of her head to stop that bad habit. “With only the two of us teaching…”

  “I’d really like more rooms, but I think four is a good start.” Rosamond’s heart raced. Soon she’d put her ideas to work. “We’ll need to hire more teachers before you know it. Maybe we should build two stories from the outset.”

  Beryl nodded absently. From the way she kept turning her head to the side, Rosamond knew she wanted to look back at the blond man. If propriety didn’t dictate otherwise, she’d have made sure her friend met him before the train reached Esperanza simply to annoy his companion. She quickly dismissed the thought. She’d put aside such spitefulness seven years ago when she’d become a Christian. How could she ask the Lord to bless her end
eavors when her behavior didn’t show His love to others? Even to rude Englishmen.

  The train began to build up speed for the ascent to La Veta Pass. Rosamond always found this part of the trip exhilarating. Soon they’d be in the midst of the Sangre de Cristos. As a token of promise, fresh, crisp air seeped into the car beneath its front door and around the windows. She inhaled a long, satisfying breath and smiled in anticipation of seeing her dreams come true.

  The moment the train began to accelerate, however, it slowed to a halt, the wheels squealing in protest against the iron rails.

  “Wake up, Abel.” A woman of perhaps thirty years, seated up front and facing the rest of the car, shook her sleeping husband. “Something’s wrong.” Abel slept on, clearly unconcerned, his head resting back against the front wall, arms crossed, legs stretched out and a wide-brimmed hat pulled over his face.

  Beryl grasped Rosamond’s arm. “Why are we stopping?”

  “Shh. There, there.” She patted Beryl’s hand. “I’m sure it’s fine. Probably something on the tracks. The men will see to it.” Lord, please let it be something as simple as that.

  Instead, gunshots erupted by the engine. Gasping, Beryl seized Rosamond’s forearm in a vise grip. The coach’s front door burst open, and three armed men rushed in. Dressed in rough coats and dusty trousers, with bandannas over the lower halves of their faces, they waved pistols. Outside, other men on horseback held the engineer and fireman at gunpoint. Rosamond couldn’t tell how many were in the gang. She prayed no one would be injured, especially Beryl. She’d almost died in that bank robbery. Indeed, her confidence and fearlessness died that day.

  “Hand over your money and gold.” The leader jammed the barrel of his gun under the nose of an old man. “Gimme your valuables.”

  The poor man shook too violently to obey, so the outlaw shoved him down on the seat and dug into his victim’s coat pocket, removing a wad of cash secured in a monogrammed money clip.

  Another outlaw held out a brown canvas sack as if taking up a church offering. The third man helped himself to the sleeping man’s wallet and the wife’s wedding band and moved down the aisle.

  At the front of the car, the sleeping husband awoke and stealthily rose up, tall and broad-shouldered, behind the last outlaw, gun in hand. Rosamond couldn’t let him fight these outlaws alone. She pried Beryl’s hands from her arm and bent down to her tapestry satchel. If she was careful, the outlaws would think she was retrieving valuables. Instead, she wrapped her hand around the handle of her Colt .45 revolver and tucked it into the folds of her skirt. She’d made sure it was loaded before they left the Walsenburg hotel this morning. Now, should she shoot the gun from the closest outlaw’s hand or wait to see what the man up front did? With Beryl shaking and terrified, Rosamond couldn’t decide.

  “I say, what a thrilling adventure. A real Wild West holdup, what?” The dark-haired Englishman grinned as the outlaws came closer. “Did you plan it for our amusement?”

  Rosamond watched him grip his ebony cane close to his side. With his other hand, he reached into his black frock coat, pulled out an engraved gold watch and swung it on its fob. “Do let me play. Come along, gentlemen, and take the pretty timepiece.” Was he crazy or incredibly brave?

  “Pip, pip, old man, such a lark.” The blond Englishman laughed, but like his friend, his posture indicated he was ready for a fight. Rosamond’s opinion of both men rose several notches. Dandies they were. Sissies they were not.

  “What have we here?” The outlaw leader bent down and leered into Rosamond’s face, his whiskey breath causing her to recoil in disgust. “A couple of pretty misses. Say, boys, what say we take them along—”

  Crack! A flash of black and gold whizzed past her face as the dark-haired Englishman’s cane slammed down on the outlaw’s gun hand, knocking his weapon to the floor. An upward thrust of the cane bloodied the man’s nose, and a third downward strike on his head sent him sprawling into the aisle. The Englishman placed one foot in the center of the man’s back and held him in place.

  “Easy does it.” Up front, the tall man held his cocked gun at the head of the third outlaw, who dropped his revolver.

  The second outlaw released the brown bag and raised his gun to shoot the Englishman. Rosamond stood and aimed her cocked Colt at his ugly face. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  With a sneer, the outlaw turned his gun toward her, but the blond man used his cane to strike a hard blow to his forearm. Like his friend, he finished the job with two more whacks to the face and head.

  The eight male passengers ordered the outlaws to the front seats and stood watch, weapons at the ready. The six ladies redistributed the valuables to their rightful owners.

  “I’ll check outside.” The tall man exited cautiously. Several shots were fired. Then quiet came over the scene.

  Soon the fireman, sooty from head to toe from his job of stoking the engine with coal, entered the coach. “Howdy, folks. I see y’all have these three taken care of. The rest of the gang lit out fast when that lawman came out. No harm’s been done except to the train’s schedule. We’ll make it up on the down side of the pass, so y’all be sure to hang on tight.” His levity stirred camaraderie amongst the travelers, strangers before, but momentarily friends. “That there lawman’ll round up these three shortly and keep ’em in the freight car till we get to Alamosa.”

  So the tall passenger was a lawman. Maybe he was headed for Esperanza. Father had planned to hire a sheriff after the bank robbery. Rosamond hoped this man was the one. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that none of the passengers were harmed.

  Beside her, Beryl hugged her middle, the site of her wound, and whimpered softly.

  Putting away her gun, Rosamond wrapped her arms around her friend. “Shh. It’s all right. No one’s hurt.”

  Beryl nodded, but her eyes glazed over as if she weren’t truly aware of her surroundings.

  As much as Rosamond wanted to cry, she forbade herself to let go of her emotions. Someone indeed had been hurt: her sweet, fragile friend. Maybe she’d been wrong to insist that Beryl return to Colorado.

  *

  From the way Percy chatted cheerily with the other men as they guarded the miscreants, Garrick could see he’d enjoyed the whole affair. Garrick himself found the entire incident thrilling. Not that he’d wish to repeat it, of course. Having a gun pointed at one’s heart did odd things to a man’s nerves, proving what he’d always believed about the American West. This was an uncivilized land and would remain so. A cultured nobleman like Uncle and his aristocratic friends wouldn’t enjoy their holidays here. The hotel Garrick had been sent to build—one after the English tradition—may be all well and good out in the middle of nowhere, but how would people travel there safely? And what would they do once they arrived?

  Still, the courage of the other passengers impressed him, especially the lovely brunette. He’d been appalled to see her using a weapon but was fascinated by her composure, her courage. He’d never known an English lady who possessed such poise in the face of deadly danger. Unfortunately, her friend didn’t fare as well. Even now, the brunette held the trembling redhead in a comforting embrace.

  Percy also noticed them. “Should I inquire as to whether they need anything?”

  Garrick hesitated. If his cousin spoke to the distressed lady, friendship might follow, especially if Esperanza was her destination. Yet he couldn’t deny his own interest in speaking to her brave companion. “Yes, do ask.”

  Percy started toward them. The brunette looked up and shook her head, fire sparking in her eyes. Percy obeyed her unspoken order. What a woman! Garrick would think twice before challenging her about anything. Ever. She reminded him of his childhood governess, a formidable woman who’d never taken any nonsense from him, and with whom he’d never won a conflict. Perhaps this was another reason not to meet this lady. Clearly, she belonged to this land. He did not.

  Even that awareness didn’t douse his fascination with her. Yesterday
he’d tried to devise a proper way to meet her, but could not. He’d decided the matter would run the usual disappointing course of his life. As the poet wrote, they were ships passing in the night. “Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.” For an American, Longfellow wrote quite eloquently on the matter. Yet here they were on the same train for a second day. Did that portend an improvement in his life journey? No, he mustn’t even consider it. She was an American!

  The lawman took charge of the three outlaws, securing them in the freight car. With the passengers seated again, the train chugged up the mountain pass toward Garrick’s future, one he had no heart for, but the one Uncle had set before him. Somehow he must make a success of it, not only for Helena but for his own self-respect.

  “I say,” Percy whispered. “I believe the Lord has it all planned. Despite the ladies’ rebuff a moment ago, we shall marry them before the end of summer.” He cocked one blond eyebrow.

  “Are you mad?” Garrick whispered back. “It’s one thing to admire a pretty girl, another thing entirely to marry her.” As if he could ever afford to marry.

  “Wait and see.” Percy jostled Garrick playfully. “By the end of summer.”

  He shook his head. Arguments could never douse Percy’s optimism. If he did meet the pretty redhead, Garrick must ensure no marriage took place. Such an alliance would never be accepted among their acquaintances in England. Thus, Garrick must forgo meeting the lovely brunette, for no future lay in America for either him or Percy.

  “I’ve a plan.” Percy spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “When we arrive in Esperanza, we’ll arrange our exit in time to hand the ladies down from the train.”

  “But—” Garrick stopped. Although Percy was on holiday, he himself must attend to business. The manner in which he emerged from the train would either impress or disappoint Colonel Northam. He intended to make a good impression. Perhaps Uncle’s business partner would approve of his showing courtesy to the young ladies. “Yes, of course.”