by Renee Ryan
“I’d be honored.”
With that matter nicely settled, Garrick made his way to the newspaper office, located on Main Street in a row with Mrs. Winsted’s mercantile, the barber shop, Williams’s Café, and several edifices in the process of being built. Across the dusty street, the newly built and freshly painted sheriff’s office stood behind the pink stone bank. This town was expanding at an extraordinary rate. After his satisfying visit with the minister, the realization that he was doing his bit to help the growth of such a community bolstered Garrick’s spirits even more.
When he entered the newspaper office, the heavy smell of ink washed over him and the clatter of the printer drowned out all thought. Fortunately, the newspaperman caught sight of him and stopped cranking out papers on the noisy machine. The tall, gangly young man strode across the length of the print shop, hand extended.
“Fred Brody.” He swiped long strands of brown hair from his forehead with his free hand, leaving a streak of black across his freckled forehead. “And you are the Englishman who’s building our new hotel.” His voice held the same Southern inflections as Reverend Thomas’s.
“Garrick Wakefield.” Garrick shook the man’s hand, choosing to ignore the ink that transferred to his own. As their hands clasped, convivial warmth shot up his arm. Once again, he felt that strange longing to be a part of this burgeoning community, to be welcomed by one and all instead of being shunted to the sidelines by former friends because he’d lost his expectations.
He apprised the newspaperman of the Colonel’s interest in having the laying of the cornerstone photographed. Although the idea was his own, he decided to use the Colonel’s name to give the request more impact, just as his using Uncle’s name had influenced Messrs. Henman and Harrison to accept the commission to design the hotel.
“Of course. I’ll write an article to go with the photograph.” Brody again swiped at the strands of hair hanging over his brown eyes, further smearing the ink on his forehead. “That should give your hotel some good publicity.” He leaned toward Garrick in a friendly way. “Say, if I may ask…” He bit his lip. “I mean, that is to say…I’d like to meet Miss Rosamond Northam. Would you present me to her after church this Sunday? That is, if you have no objections. I’d ask the Colonel, but, well, he can be a bit formidable.” He laughed nervously. “The Northam men appeared a bit protective of her after church last Sunday.”
In spite of the knot in his throat, which now sank into his chest, Garrick could think of no reason to deny his request. Yet the newsman’s intent was clear. He was enamored of Rosamond, if only from a distance. But how could Garrick complain? He had no intention of courting her, so to refuse an introduction to an educated man of her class would be wrong. Assuming the fellow looked in the mirror before church and removed the ink from his face, of course.
As if the newsman’s request weren’t enough, Garrick repeated a similar conversation with Nolan Means when he went into the bank to confirm the financial arrangements Uncle had made. The young banker’s appearance was pleasant enough. His refined manners and exquisitely tailored suit set him apart from the local cowboy culture. But for his somewhat cultured American accent, he’d be right at home in any London drawing room.
After they completed their business, Means said, “I have been out of town and regret missing church on Sunday as I have looked forward to meeting Miss Northam. We opened the bank shortly after she left for Boston. As you are residing at Four Stones Ranch, perhaps you could tell me of an appropriate time for my sister and me to pay her a call.”
Garrick wanted to inform the banker that he wasn’t Miss Northam’s social secretary. Or that she wasn’t receiving callers. Or that she was too busy to meet a stuffy banker. Or that she preferred the company of cowboys over gentleman in fine suits. Instead, he said, “The young lady does come and go quite a bit. Perhaps your best opportunity will be to approach the family this Sunday.” Perhaps her formidable father would sort out her many suitors. If not, Tolley certainly would.
At least later, when he chatted with the new sheriff, he felt confident that married Abel Lawson wouldn’t be interested in courting Rosamond.
“Good to see you, son.” The lawman gripped his hand and slapped him on the back as one would an old friend. “I was mighty impressed by the way you and your friend handled those train robbers. When we boarded in Denver, I marked you both as tenderfoots, but you jumped right in and did your share to stop the robbery.”
“Thank you, sir. Actually, Percy’s my cousin, and we were glad to help.” The man’s compliment sounded a bit two-edged, but still positive. After all, Sheriff Lawson welcomed him with respect. Jumping into the fray earned that for him.
How he would welcome this same regard from others. When he went back to England, none of his acquaintances would admire him for his courage during the robbery, or even any success he might achieve either here or there. In London Society, wealth and position counted for everything, and he possessed neither.
Yet the longer he remained in America, the more he yearned for regard and respect, especially from a certain young lady whom every other unattached man in town seemed eager to court. Would his attempt to learn cowboy ways impress her? Or would he simply make a fool of himself?
*
Rosamond settled into the pew between Mother and Garrick, with Dad on Mother’s other side and Percy and Beryl farther down the same row. Tolley sat in the back row with Nate, Rand and their families, and Rosamond could feel his glare aimed at Garrick.
Mother directed each of them to their places, just as she would at the family supper table, clearly with romance in mind. While that was all well and good for Beryl and Percy, Rosamond couldn’t think of a worse idea for herself and Garrick. She didn’t mind being friends with the handsome Englishman, but she couldn’t both marry and fulfill her dreams of teaching.
Five years ago, she’d agreed with Mother about Nate and Susanna. After Susanna’s father was severely beaten by outlaws up on La Veta Pass, Nate had come along, saved his life and brought the two of them to Four Stones Ranch while the old Southern gentleman recovered. Then Rosamond and her parents had encouraged Marybeth to travel from Boston to Esperanza to marry Rand. She could see her older brothers and their wives were happily married. Maybe she and Garrick… But she mustn’t let her mind go in that direction. Not when she planned a teaching career. Not when Tolley kept sending those cross looks Garrick’s way.
“How did your Sunday school talk go?” She whispered to Garrick even though the service hadn’t yet begun and other people were talking in normal tones.
“Smashing.” His whole face lit up, and her heart tripped. My, he was handsome. Every time he smiled like that, she had to lasso her heart and drag it back into place. “The boys were eager students, asking questions and giving opinions.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “After this morning, I quite understand your desire to become a teacher.”
A warm feeling radiated from Rosamond’s heart, flowing throughout her whole being. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself.” Later she must explore this common interest further.
She started to ask if he’d thought to invite Mrs. Starling’s son to the class, but Reverend Thomas took his place at the front of the congregation, and the room grew silent.
“Good morning, everyone.”
The minister opened the service with his usual warm welcome, and the joy in Rosamond’s heart increased. How pleased she was to be here in her homey church to worship with dear friends who loved the Lord. How pleased she was that Garrick enjoyed teaching her brothers’ Sunday school classes. While she hadn’t discussed spiritual matters with him, she saw he was a man of faith, especially when his countenance beamed with holy joy as he sang the opening hymn, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”
Maybe Mother was right—again—in her matchmaking ideas. If Garrick had an abiding faith in God and lived by godly principles motivated by that faith, if he believed in working hard to achieve his goals
, if he liked children, even enjoyed teaching them, why shouldn’t Rosamond permit herself to care for him?
She knew exactly why. Because once they finished the hotel, he’d return to England and his aristocratic friends, probably regaling them with stories about unsophisticated Americans and their unrefined ways.
Besides, she must stand firm in her plans not to marry. While Garrick had enjoyed teaching the boys this morning, she did more than enjoy teaching on a rare occasion. She’d felt called to teach in this very sanctuary four years ago after Reverend Thomas gave one of his soul-inspiring sermons on spiritual gifts. The Lord had spoken in her heart and mind that day, and after graduating from the academy, she was all the more dedicated to the profession. She couldn’t expect a husband to understand such ambitions, so she must forgo marriage. As never before, the thought wove a thread of sadness through her, diminishing her joy.
The following day, groups of workers assembled on both building sites, which were just over one block apart. Rosamond was torn between the two until Tolley reassured her that he and his “men” would manage without her supervision. After looking over Marybeth and Rand’s house, she had full confidence in him. She’d inspect the school as work progressed, but surreptitiously when she brought the boys refreshments from Williams’s Café.
The hotel building crew was another matter. Very few of the men appreciated having a woman at the site, especially one who gave orders. Being the Colonel’s daughter, Rosamond had never encountered such cold-shoulder treatment on the ranch. Certainly none of the Four Stones cowhands ever refused her instructions. But then, she’d grown up among them, and most doted on her as a younger sister. After a quick prayer for guidance, she marched over to several men, who were digging the spot for the cornerstone.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” They were hardly gentlemen, but she knew good manners always accomplished more than shouted orders. “The cornerstone will go on the southeast corner.” She smiled and pointed toward the correct spot.
None of the four men so much as lifted his head to acknowledge her. One spat to the side. Another murmured a word she wasn’t familiar with, but which didn’t sound in the least proper.
“I said the other corner.” She raised her voice only slightly.
One by one, the men stopped, dug their shovels into the dirt and crossed their arms over the top of the handles, still not looking at her. Then one man slid an unpleasant glance her way. With a gasp, she took a step back.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Northam.” Garrick appeared at her side, a rolled-up building draft under one arm. He gave her a slight bow and tipped his new hat to her. “When you’ve finished instructing these chaps, would you please inspect the water pipes with me? I want to be certain they’re where you want them.” His voice held no servility, merely respectful deference, something she guessed only an Englishman could accomplish. In fact, he sounded a bit like his valet. He looked at the men, one or two of whom shuffled their feet and sent worried looks his way. “When these men complete the task you gave them, perhaps they can assist in unloading the stones from the wagons. That is, if it’s all right with you.”
Rosamond’s heart swelled with appreciation for his unexpected support. Where was the arrogant aristocrat who hadn’t even wanted her to be a part of this project? She gave the men another pleasant smile. “The southeast corner.”
“Yes, ma’am.” They doffed hats and then scrambled diagonally across the building site, shovels in hand, two of them tripping on the way and almost falling headlong into the rectangular hole other workers were digging for the basement.
It was all Rosamond could do not to laugh out loud at their comical escape. Nor did she miss the looks of the other men who observed the incident. With just a few words—questions, actually—Garrick had established her authority before the entire hotel building crew.
She gazed up at Garrick from beneath the wide brim of her straw hat. “Thank you.”
“Hmm?” He was busy scanning the draft, or seemed to be. Yet she didn’t doubt he knew exactly what he’d just done. “Ready?” He offered an arm.
She placed a hand on it, feeling beneath the fabric even stronger muscles than a mere week ago. Whatever he was doing to improve, she couldn’t help but admire him more and more with every passing day. This was no lazy aristocrat but a hard-working man, the only kind of man she could ever respect.
*
Garrick could barely restrain himself from planting a facer on the brute who’d looked at Rosamond as if she were a beefsteak he wished to devour. Never mind the other three who’d ignored her sweetly delivered order. Garrick knew many a titled lady who shouted orders like Lewis Carroll’s Queen of Hearts, and would likely dismiss anyone who failed to promptly obey. That anyone could deny Rosamond her every wish was beyond him. Of course, in the matter of the Palladian facade, he must stand firm. But otherwise, he’d give her the moon if she asked.
Where had that come from? Perhaps the heat had affected his thinking. At Roberts’s insistence, he’d worn his black suit, white linen shirt and a tie. His valet had insisted that a professional appearance would establish his authority. And it had. To a man, all the workers acknowledged him as if he were the lord of the manor. Such irony, since he’d never be that. But when Rosamond gazed up at him with gratitude beaming from those lovely emerald eyes, he did feel a bit like a knight in shining armor. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that.
In any event, these men were being paid handsomely by Uncle and Colonel Northam, so they shouldn’t mind which of their employers’ agents gave them orders.
After he and Rosamond inspected the water lines, they moved out of the building area and under an open canvas-covered pavilion erected nearby.
“I’m utterly amazed at these artesian wells so prevalent in this area,” he said, “not to mention the purity of the water.” He filled glasses for each of them from a pitcher on the center table and handed one to Rosamond.
“Thank you.” She took a sip, studying him over the rim of the crystal with those bright green eyes.
Somehow he sensed that she was thanking him for more than the water. But he wouldn’t refer to the incident with the men. No need to boast of his support for her. He sipped from his glass, enjoying the cold water freshly pumped from beneath the earth and considering how he might change the subject.
“That lovely fountain in the center of town reminds me of the fountains in Rome. Did you know that during Rome’s heyday, they used vast concrete aqueducts to pipe enough water into the city to supply the needs of two million people?”
“Do tell.” She smirked playfully.
Oddly, his collar became tight, and he made up his mind to wear something looser tomorrow, no matter what Roberts said. “Indeed. Many of those aqueducts are still standing today.”
“Hmm.” She kept her gaze on him. Was that admiration in her eyes?
He coughed lightly. “Remarkable after all these centuries, wouldn’t you say?”
“Quite remarkable.” Her smirk softened into a sweet smile.
Again he tugged at his tie.
She laughed. “I suggest you wear your new plaid cotton shirt tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“I’m going over to watch the boys clear the plot for the high school.” She set down her glass. “Want to go?”
“Yes.” He glanced around the hotel site, pleased that work was progressing in all areas. “I’d enjoy that.”
After informing Mr. Frisk, the master stonemason, of their plans, he held out his arm, wondering if she would squeeze it as she had a while ago. Odd how women did that. Was she taking the measure of his masculinity? If so, he hoped he came up to snuff.
She did squeeze, and he enjoyed the contact, even through his linen jacket and shirt. From her smile, he guessed his arm met with her approval. In fact, he was quite satisfied himself after only a week of lifting bales of hay every morning with Pete.
The short walk to the high school site took only a few minutes. Garrick loo
ked for Adam among the boys chopping at weeds, raking away debris, moving supplies or taking directions from Tolley. He was pleased to see the lad focused on Tolley as he spoke. Garrick had invited Adam to Sunday school in hopes of introducing him to the others, and his plan had worked. They in turn must have invited Adam to help with this effort. Garrick must make certain Adam could still keep his position at the livery stable, but volunteering to help build the school would make him a part of the community. No one understood the importance of such acceptance more than Garrick.
Tolley saw them approaching, and the friendly expression he’d directed toward the lads turned hostile. “I said I could handle this, sis.”
Rosamond waved. “I know you can. We’re on our way to Williams’s Café. May we bring your men some refreshments?”
Garrick guessed she’d realized her mistake in inviting him to the site and quickly invented a plausible reason for the two of them coming this way.
The lads caught sight of Garrick and, to his chagrin, hurried over to him with greetings, questions, handshakes and all over jolly-good-fellow camaraderie. While he enjoyed their welcome, Tolley strode away and began to unload wooden beams from a wagon. Garrick’s heart sank to his stomach. Once again he’d given Tolley cause to dislike him just by his presence.
“Would you boys like some lemonade?” Rosamond’s gaze was on her brother as she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sounds good.”
“Sure is hot today.”
They all spoke at once.
“Perhaps I should go back to the hotel,” Garrick said softly.
“Don’t you dare,” Rosamond returned in a whisper. “I need your help to carry the refreshments.” To the lads, she said, “Now you get back to work. Our school won’t be built before winter if you lollygag all day.”
They laughed and made genial remarks as they returned to their work. Garrick guessed this worksite would be much more relaxed and enjoyable than the hotel’s. Only Adam lingered.