by Renee Ryan
“Father, you must sit down.”
Mother appeared from somewhere and rushed to his side.
“Oh, Frank, I was so worried about you.” Her face and clothing bore telltale smudges, giving proof that she’d also been in the thick of the battle.
“Now, Mother, don’t fuss.” Father put an arm around her. “Have you ever known me to stand by and let others do the hard work?” As the two of them walked away, he glanced down at her dress. “Now, you, young lady, didn’t mind when I said to stay back…” The rest of his words were lost in the noise of the dispersing crowd.
“That’s enough fireworks for one day.” Nate spoke to the people still waiting to learn whether they were needed to finish the job at hand. “Maybe we can use them during Harvest Home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mayor Jones said. Many others voiced their agreement.
“A shame about your lovely frock.” Garrick moved into her line of vision on the dimly lit street. “Will the soot wash out, do you think?”
The gentle concern in his voice and eyes could have swept her off her feet, had he not already implied that Tolley had started the fire. Was he truly so oblivious that he couldn’t see how his question about her brother affected her? With so many people close by, she could hardly make a scene about it. Instead, she forced a smile and spoke as cheerfully as she could.
“As long as the hotel is repairable, my dress doesn’t matter.” She glanced at the damaged building, which his actions had saved from destruction. “You were very foolish to run into the back.” Truth demanded more. “And very brave.”
Now his expression turned slightly boyish. If he were a cowboy, right about now, he’d say, “Aw, shucks.” Instead, he shrugged. “Ah, well. Couldn’t stand by and see all of our hard work go up in flames.”
“No.” She couldn’t think of anything more to say.
Nate gathered several men, most of them hotel workers, to shovel the smoldering rubble out onto the street, while others checked for any signs of remaining embers that could reignite the fire. Water still dripped from above, making a heavy, sticky mess of it all.
Garrick set a gentle hand on Rosamond’s shoulder. “We can take care of the rest of this. Why don’t you go home with your parents and get some rest?” He waved a hand down the street toward the churchyard, where they’d all been celebrating just one short hour ago.
She nodded and turned away, but he caught her arm, again with a gentleness that touched something deep in her soul.
“Please don’t worry,” he said. “Before you know it, we’ll make everything right as rain. Let the workmen make all of the repairs before you come back. All right?”
She stifled a tiny sob trying to escape her. “All right.”
But it wasn’t all right and never would be. Other than her responsibilities in completing the hotel rooms, she’d have nothing more to do with this Englishman who could treat her with such refined manners while trying to destroy her vulnerable younger brother.
*
Garrick watched Rosamond walk away, and with her went his heart. Yes, it was true. He did love her. Tonight had confirmed his feelings. And when she’d flung herself into his arms, he’d seen in her eyes that his love was reciprocated. At that moment, he’d been overcome by a great urgency to set things right with Tolley, or at the least, find out why the younger man disliked him. Then he and Rosamond would have no barriers to their tendresse, to use the French expression his governess had been so fond of. Rosamond must have experienced the same urgency, for when he asked about Tolley, she’d turned away to look for her brother, and then been distracted by her father’s coughing. Or so it seemed. Garrick prayed he’d read the events correctly.
In the meantime, despite the fire, he felt sanguine about the entire situation. Beginning tomorrow morning, he’d set to work clearing out the last of the rubble right alongside the workmen. Circumstances may have forced him to end his cowboy lessons, but surely Rosamond would appreciate his willingness to labor at the hotel with his own two hands. Even the formidable Colonel Northam hadn’t been above fighting the fire, nor had Nate and Rand. Mrs. Northam also appeared to have jumped into the fray, so to speak. Garrick could do no less if he expected to be fully accepted by this family.
Oddly, Tolley hadn’t fought the fire, although Garrick suspected he’d seen it. After leaving the dance upon his father’s order, he’d probably ridden back toward the hotel before heading south to Four Stones Ranch. By that time, the entire town would have been hurrying to stop the conflagration.
Suspected. Without the slightest desire to do so, Garrick suspected Tolley of starting the fire. A shiver coursed down his spine. He must think this through carefully. The first time he’d seen Tolley since the shooting match was after he tripped him during the dance. They’d traded blows—Garrick touched his jaw and felt the painful, swollen reminder. Then Colonel Northam had ordered Tolley to leave, and he’d walked away in the opposite direction from the hotel. Straightaway, the young workman had burst into the party with news of the fire. If Tolley did start it, he would have done so before coming to the dance and tripping Garrick. Given the violence of the flames when Garrick raced to the hotel, was that plausible?
Yes, entirely plausible. Otherwise, why hadn’t Tolley returned to help? He simply couldn’t have missed the flames.
Sick at heart, Garrick worked until the last man went home before he trudged back to Mrs. Foster’s house alongside Roberts.
“Good show, sir.” The valet had the effrontery to slap Garrick on the back. He then gulped loudly. “I beg your pardon, sir. I fear being among these rustic Americans has dulled my sense of propriety.”
“Never mind.” Garrick grunted out a weary laugh. “You can make amends by saving this shirt. I rather like its color.”
“Yes, yes. It’s quite the thing.” Roberts coughed in his nervous way. “I believe I can make the necessary repairs to both of your cowboy shirts.”
Something in the way he said “cowboy” didn’t quite match the disdain he seemed eager to convey. But Garrick was too exhausted from the day to question him. In any event, Roberts had showed himself as brave as any in combatting the flames. Such a joint effort formed a camaraderie between master and servant. Things would settle back into their proper form on the morrow.
*
The warmth of the summer breeze blowing in through Rosamond’s window alerted her to the lateness of the hour. Her clock confirmed it: half past eleven. She’d overslept, yet she didn’t feel rested. As much as her back and arms ached from carrying buckets of water to put out the fire, her heart ached even more.
Last night as Father drove the surrey home, few words had been spoken. Then, despite his weariness, when they reached the house, he’d summoned Tolley to his office, and the two had argued into the night, their voices loud, but their words unclear. Still smarting from Garrick’s insinuation that Tolley started the fire, Rosamond couldn’t wait to speak to her younger brother and voice her confidence in him, perhaps bolster his spirits after Father’s dressing down. What fault had Father found in Tolley this time?
She noticed that Beryl’s everyday brown skirt and white shirtwaist were missing from the wardrobe, so she dressed quickly and went downstairs in search of her friend. Beryl was in the kitchen helping Mother and Rita prepare dinner.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Mother’s cheery tone sounded a bit forced, and her smile appeared strained.
“Good morning, all.” Rosamond grabbed a paring knife from the utensil drawer to help Beryl peel vegetables. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
Beryl offered no response, and her concentration on digging the eyes out of a potato seemed a bit too focused. Rita’s work at the stove also required silent, serious attention.
Mother heaved out a weary sigh. “You’ll find out soon enough, my dear. Tolley’s gone. He—”
“Gone?” Rosamond dropped her knife. “Gone where? Did he run away?” What a foolish question. A grown man didn’t run away
from home. He just…left when things became intolerable. “Why did he go?” She couldn’t subdue her anger.
Mother’s eyes reddened. “Your father…” She cleared her throat. “It was time.”
Rosamond choked back a sob. The grief in Mother’s voice broke her heart. After all, Tolley was her beloved son, just as Nate and Rand were. She’d miss him just as much as Rosamond would.
“Did he say where he was going?” Wherever it was, he’d manage. He would do well. At only twenty years of age, he could build a house, run a ranch, do whatever he set his mind to. Everyone who knew him could see that. Everyone except Father.
Mother seemed surprised by the question. “Why, yes. He took the morning train to go back east. To Boston. To Harvard.” She spoke as if Rosamond should know this.
Stunned, however, Rosamond couldn’t speak for a moment. At last, she inhaled a deep, painful breath. “Harvard? Why on earth?” Tolley loved being a rancher. He’d never wanted to go back east to school.
“Your father arranged it.” Sadness permeated her whole being.
Finally stifling her indignation, Rosamond decided not to press Mother any further, but she’d speak to Father once she’d gained control of her temper. Right now she must encourage Mother.
“Well, I’ll certainly miss him.” She forced out a dramatic sigh. “He could’ve at least said goodbye to me.”
Mother gave her an understanding smile. “He came into your room and kissed you on the forehead but said he didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“Oh, no! I thought that was a dream.” Now her tears came in earnest. “I’d have hugged him to pieces if he’d just wakened me.”
Mother’s chuckle came from deep within, a good sign she was dealing with Tolley’s departure as well as could be expected. “Then that should give you your answer. You know how our menfolk dislike emotional scenes.”
Rita and Beryl offered timid giggles, each sending Rosamond a consoling look.
She nodded her thanks. “Maybe Nate and Rand can help us finish the schoolhouse.”
“It just needs painting,” Beryl said. “You and I can do that.”
Again, Rosamond nodded. This would give them something to do for the time being. Garrick had asked her to stay away from the hotel until he’d arranged for cleanup and repairs. Staying away from him would be easy enough. If he hadn’t goaded Tolley yesterday at the shooting match, her brother might still be home instead of exiled to Boston to attend a school in which he’d never shown even the slightest interest.
*
The day after the fire, the resolve of the workers greatly encouraged Garrick. Or perhaps his own enthusiasm for the cleanup generated their fervor for the task. At the beginning of the project, these American men had found amusement in his use of proper English, but they’d always been respectful of him as their superior. His willingness to get his hands dirty brought a different kind of respect, which gave him a feeling of camaraderie such as he’d never known. How different from most of his Oxford classmates, who offered friendship only to those with wealth and social position. Oddly, Garrick found himself regretting that he must return to England as soon as the hotel opened for business. Perhaps Uncle would permit him to stay awhile to ensure the success of the enterprise.
As soon as the last of the debris and soot had been swept from the building, Mr. Schmidt, the carpenter, inspected the wooden studs and beams to determine which were sound and which must be replaced. He reported that, despite what appeared to be a devastating conflagration, the majority of damage was somewhat superficial. Tarpaulins and canvases had burned, along with sawdust and wood shavings, but only a few areas required studs to be replaced. To accomplish it all quickly, Garrick ordered meals from Williams’s Café for the entire crew so they could work through the day. He was rewarded with their continued enthusiasm, as though they were taking pride in the hotel, not merely earning a wage.
As he worked, thoughts of Rosamond filled Garrick’s mind. He longed to see her but reminded himself to be patient. Last night after retiring, he’d lain awake and considered his suspicions about Tolley. If he’d started the fire as a prank, he surely was appalled when it got out of hand. Perhaps he’d been too ashamed to return and fight the blaze. Garrick would choose to forgive him and move beyond the incident. After all, no one had been injured.
Further, he decided that once he completed the hotel, he would ask Colonel Northam’s permission to court Rosamond. Upon waking, he changed his mind. He would speak to her first. Once the hotel was completed, he’d invite her to inspect it and, in the process, pour out his heart to her, explaining that while the hotel had been growing into a fine establishment, so had his love for her grown into something grand. Then, if she didn’t actually reciprocate his affections, he wouldn’t have the embarrassment of facing Colonel Northam in failure. But the emotion in Rosamond’s eyes last night couldn’t be denied. She loved him just as much as he loved her. These thoughts pleased him so thoroughly that he didn’t mind getting covered in soot from head to toe for a second time in as many days. Surely Rosamond could only admire his hard work, just as these men did.
In midafternoon Garrick glanced down Main Street and saw a welcome sight. Percy and his two companions were riding into town. As they drew nearer to the hotel, Percy’s cheerful expression became visible, a good sign of a fruitful quest. Garrick left Mr. Schmidt in charge of the cleanup and hurried to meet the travelers. While Percy dismounted, Garrick brushed soot from his hand and reached out to him.
“Percy, good to see you.”
Percy pumped his hand. “And you, cousin.” He studied Garrick from head to toe, shaking his head in dismay, then waved a hand at the piles of burned rubble being carted away by the workmen. “I say, old boy, what happened here?”
Garrick related the events of the night before, careful not to mention Tolley. He’d tell Percy everything when no one else could hear him. In the meantime, he did his best to make light of the blaze.
“You must have been devastated.” Understanding filled his cousin’s eyes. “A true trial by fire, so to speak.”
“The Almighty was merciful. Very little damage was structural.” Garrick shrugged. “It’s all over now. Time to move forward and rebuild.” He noticed Percy’s valet and Pete, the cowboy, standing patiently beside their horses. “Enough about my little incident. How did you fare in your quest?”
“Oh, jolly good.” Percy lit up with excitement. “We found our Mr. Starling.”
Both stunned and delighted, Garrick stepped back and stared down Main Street. “Well, where is he?” He itched to give the man a dressing down for abandoning his wife and children.
Percy chuckled. “With his family, of course. We couldn’t simply ride past Chen’s laundry and not deliver him to the missus at once. We also stopped by the livery stable to tell Adam. He was beside himself with happiness and ran home straightaway.”
“Ah. Of course.” Happy for the lad he’d befriended, Garrick still wanted answers. He leveled a scowl on his cousin. “And just exactly what has our elusive railroad worker been doing all these months?” He tried not to imagine something too terrible, but even among his hotel workers, he’d noticed a few who didn’t live exemplary lives, especially the four who’d eyed Rosamond so rudely all those weeks ago until he’d set them straight.
“The poor chap had quite a go of it. Just as we learned, he was working on the south leg of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. As a trusted foreman, he rode to Santa Fe to fetch the payroll, but on the way back was robbed and left for dead.” Percy shuddered at the horror of his own words. “An elderly Mexican couple found him and nursed him back to health in their home. However, they don’t speak English, and he doesn’t speak Spanish, so they couldn’t communicate. He also told us he couldn’t remember his name for some time. That delayed things considerably, but eventually they brought him to the small settlement where we found him.”
“Poor chap, indeed.” Garrick regretted his rush to judgment about
the man. “How is he now?”
“Vastly improved, although he’s still healing from his injuries. We hired a wagon to bring him home.” Percy included Richards and Pete with a wave of his hand. “These chaps were quite remarkable throughout the entire adventure. Couldn’t do a thing without them.”
“Well done, men.” Garrick gave them an approving nod and then asked Percy, “Did you incur any expenses along the way?” The search was his idea, so of course he must repay Percy.
“Nothing I couldn’t see to.”
Garrick wouldn’t press the matter now but would look for a way to repay his cousin.
Percy’s blue eyes now brightened with another sort of expression. He leaned close to Garrick. “How is my Miss Eberly?”
Garrick frowned. He should have known Percy would ask about her. He stared down and chewed his lip.
“What is it?” Percy clutched Garrick’s arm. “Is she well? Has anything happened to her?”
Garrick swiped a hand across his jaw. How could he discourage his good cousin from continuing his pursuit of the young lady? Yet he must if Percy was to reach his full potential and live up to his responsibilities as an Englishman.
“She is well, as far as I’ve seen.”
Percy relaxed. “Well, then, there’s nothing else for it. I must ride out to Four Stones Ranch and propose to her straightaway.” He glanced down at his dusty trousers and chuckled. “After I bathe, of course.” He turned to mount his horse.
“Percy.” Garrick gripped his arm, scrambling to think of a reason to prevent such a disaster. “Do wait. I beg you.”
Percy laughed in his jolly way. “Whatever for?”
His obvious joy unsettled Garrick. Somehow he must stop his cousin.
“I simply cannot believe Miss Eberly is prepared to emigrate to England. I’ve seen nothing to convince me she’d prefer to leave family, home and community for a land that is foreign to her in every way that matters.” Nor did she appear to have a penchant for finer things, finer society.
