“Getting thrown from that horse must have addled your brain.” Alice sat up and leaned toward him. “How can you even think Texas is half as pretty as England? England is green and full of flowers and proper trees. Texas is brown and what they call trees wouldn’t suffice for a decent hedge at home.”
“Perhaps when you have been here a while, you’ll feel differently,” Gordon said. “I’ve grown fond of the land, even though it is very different from my homeland.”
Cecily gazed out across the prairie that stretched around them in every direction like a great sea. Sunlight gilded the wintry grass, and etched the scrubby trees with gold. A cool breeze washed over them, bringing the scent of sun-warmed sage. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, locking the memory within her of this day and this place.
Charles’s letters had described Texas as a sunny, open land. But words could not convey the brightness of the sun here, or the grandeur of the terrain that stretched unbroken by wall or hedge for miles and miles into the distance. That vastness had made her ill-at-ease at first. She felt lost and insignificant, a speck on the planet. But she was gradually growing accustomed to the scale of things here, and felt herself expanding as well, not physically, but mentally.
For the first time in her life, she was truly on her own. Her days were her own, not regimented by the demands of a narrow society. She could say what she felt, befriend whomever she pleased, go where she wanted to go. This new freedom was as intoxicating as champagne.
Even if Texas had not offered so much to her, she would have been content here, because Charles was here.
“We’re on the Rocking W ranch now,” Gordon said. “We should be at Abbie Waters’ home in a moment.”
Cecily looked around, but saw only more emptiness. After five minutes’ more riding, however, she spotted a small building in the distance. Made of logs, scarcely twenty meters square, it had a chimney at one end and an open veranda across the front. Apparently one of the cowboys or other retainers lived here. They must be close to the main house now.
Gordon led them to the cabin. A black and white dog stood on the porch and barked at them, until a boy in denim trousers and blue-striped shirt hushed it. “Good day, Miss Waters.” Gordon removed his hat and bowed to the boy.
“It is shaping up to be a pretty day. Why don’t y’all light and visit a spell.” The boy stepped down off the porch and came toward them.
Cecily slid from the saddle and straightened her skirts, trying to hide her confusion. The boy wasn’t a boy at all, but a young woman.
“Lady Cecily Thorndale, this is Abigail Waters,” Gordon made the introductions.
“Call me Abbie.” The young woman offered her hand and Cecily took it. Up close, she looked scarcely more than a girl, with brown hair curling around a fine-featured face, freckles dusting her cheeks. Her grasp was firm as a man’s, her hand bare, calluses scraping the fine cotton of Cecily’s gloves. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss. . . Abbie.”
Gordon turned to the other women. “This is Madame LeFleur, Alice Rogers and Nick Bainbridge.”
Madame LeFleur nodded, and Nick managed a smart bow. Alice stared at their hostess, dumbfounded.
“Madame LeFleur is interested in the land you have for sale,” Gordon said.
“Come in and have some refreshments, then we can ride over and you can take a look.” She led the way inside, accompanied by her dog, whom she introduced as Banjo. He curled up on a rug by the door while the others arranged themselves around the table at one end of the front room. “I made tea,” Abbie said, taking a kettle from the stove. “And I bought cakes in town.” She grimaced. “I’ll confess, I’m not much of a baker.”
Not wanting to stare, but consumed by curiosity, Cecily studied their hostess through lowered lashes. Abbie wore the uniform of every cowboy Cecily had seen thus far: flannel shirt and denim trousers tucked into tall boots. The boots had elaborate stitching up the front, and two-inch high, sharply angled heels. Though odd garb for a female, the clothes seemed to suit Abbie. She was not the coarse oddity Cecily had feared when she’d first greeted them. Her voice was low and gentle, her speech, though not refined, was that of a woman with some education and manners. She had removed her hat when they entered the house, revealing a thick coil of brown hair pinned atop her head. Her hands, though work-roughened, were small, her movements graceful as she prepared the tea. She was a different sort of woman than anyone Cecily had ever met, but definitely a woman.
“Do you operate this ranch all by yourself?” Cecily asked when the tea was served.
“I have Banjo and a couple of hands to help me.” At the sound of his name, the dog thumped his tail.
Cecily tried to imagine living in this little cabin, with only a dog for company, and hundreds of acres to oversee. “I must say, I’m astonished you’re able to do it.”
“I can’t see why anyone would want to do it.” Alice looked around the cabin, her nose wrinkled.
“I think it’d be great fun,” Nick said.
Alice scowled at him. “No one asked you, did they?”
“I’ve lived here all my life.” Abbie followed Alice’s gaze around the room, but instead of distaste, her expression was one of love. “I always knew one day the ranch would be mine, and I was brought up learning how to look after things.”
“Why do you dress like a man?” Alice blurted.
Abbie blushed again and looked down at her hands in her lap. “The kind of work I do, these clothes are more practical.”
Cecily could see the point in that. “I’d love to learn about ranching.” She leaned toward Abbie. “Can you teach me?”
Abbie looked doubtful. “It’s not exactly a job for a lady.”
“But I truly want to learn.”
Abbie tilted her head and studied her a long moment. Cecily wondered if Abbie thought she was as peculiar as Cecily found Abbie. After all, how many English ladies did one find on the prairies of Texas? “Why do you want to learn?” Abbie asked after a moment.
Cecily straightened and smoothed her skirts. “So that I can help my fiancé, Charles, when I become his wife.”
“That’d be Charlie Worthington, right?” Abbie smiled. “But you don’t need to help him with the ranch. He’s got a bunch of top hands working for him already.”
But ‘hands’ were not the same as a wife, a helpmate to work by a man’s side, to understand his troubles. Cecily stared into her tea cup. “I want to know enough so that when he comes in in the evenings and talks about his work, I’ll understand what he’s saying. If he’s concerned or troubled about something, I’ll know why.”
Abbie considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I never thought about it that way, but I guess you’re right. I’d be happy to show you a few things.”
They finished their tea and returned to the horses to ride out to the land Abbie had for sale. She led the way on a small bay gelding.
“Why do you wish to sell the land?” Madame asked as Nick drove the buggy along a faintly marked trail.
“It’s too rocky to be of much use for cattle.” Abbie half-turned in the saddle to look down on Madame. “I was able to buy a piece from Mason Allen that’s better suited for my purposes. This parcel I’m selling is too near the main road to town, too. Makes it too easy for cattle thieves to make off with the herd and be gone before I can find out about it.”
Madame smiled. “I believe a location near a main road would suit my purposes admirably.”
“Do people steal cattle very often?” Cecily asked.
Abbie shrugged. “I wouldn’t say often. But it’s been happening more lately. Usually only one or two come up missing at a time, which means it’s probably a small operator, maybe even someone local. Nobody’s been able to catch the thief.”
They reached the parcel in question after half an hour’s ride. A single oak atop a rock-strewn slope commanded a view of the twin tracks of the road below.
Madame got out of
the buggy and walked around the area, stopping from time to time to contemplate the view. Alice waited in the buggy with Gordon and Nick, while Abbie and Cecily strolled in the opposite direction. “You do know why Madame LeFleur wants to buy your land, don’t you?” Cecily asked.
Abbie nodded. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“Does the idea bother you?”
She hunched her shoulders. “I suppose it ought to, but maybe it’s better if she builds out here than in town, with the school and the churches staring her in the face.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the tall, white-haired woman. “And I like her. She seems. . . kind. So maybe she’s good to her girls.”
“I like her, too.” Cecily smiled, relieved to have her judgment of Madame confirmed.
“I feel sorry for her, though,” Abbie said. “Maybe not so much for her as for the women who work for her.”
“Because of the work they do?”
“Because they don’t think there’s anything else they can do.” She flushed. “Not that I’ve known many women like that, but I’ve met a few. I’ve been to a few cattle auctions and such when they were the only other females around, so I guess it’s only natural that I talked to them. Most of them don’t have much education, or any family to help them along.”
Cecily thought of Fifi and Estelle scrawling their Xes in place of a signature. What would it be like, not knowing how to read, having to trade on the fact that you were a woman in order to make a living?
Madame LeFleur joined them under the oak tree atop the hill. “I think I could like it here,” she said. “My girls could get plenty of fresh air. I might even plant a garden.” She turned to Abbie. “How much?”
They reached an agreement on price, then started down the hill, back toward the horses. Cecily fell in step beside Madame LeFleur. “I have a proposition to make to you,” she said.
“A proposition, mademoiselle?” Madame raised her eyebrows in alarm.
“Nothing untoward, I promise.” Cecily put a hand on Madame’s arm. “I’d like to teach Estelle and Fifi to read. It would help occupy my time while I’m here and it would help them, too.”
Madame looked thoughtful. “I ought to say no, since as long as they are ignorant, they are more likely to stay in my employ.” She shrugged. “But then again, perhaps I will start a trend for educated companions. We may add poetry readings to our schedule of entertainments.” She laughed and patted Cecily’s hand. “You may teach the girls if you like, my dear. And remember, when the time comes for you to wed your handsome lord, I will offer lessons of my own to ensure a happy marriage.”
Chapter Six
When Charles returned from selecting the new calves and arranging for them to be transferred to the Double Crown later, he found two telegrams awaiting on his desk. He slit open the first and read:
Delighted C. arrived safely. Happy to have her stay with you as long as needed. M.
He read the message through a second time, then tossed it onto the desk and began to pace. Of all the devious maneuverings! You’d think Marbridge would be worried sick about his only daughter, off on her own in the wilds of America. Instead, the man was practically celebrating the fact that she was off his hands. If this was the kind of attitude Cecily had to live with, it was no wonder she’d run away.
He paused and stared at the second telegram. He didn’t have to be a soothsayer to know who had sent this second post. He could practically see the angry words emanating from it.
Sighing, he picked it up at last and opened it.
Marbridge tells me you have his daughter. Don’t know what you said to convince her to join you, but now it’s done marry the girl and return home immediately. B.
The Earl never changed. Of course this entire mess was Charles’s fault. Never mind Cecily’s role in the whole affair. Neither man seemed to care one whit about the danger she’d put herself in coming here, the emotional turmoil that must have driven her to such uncharacteristic rebellion, or the possibility that she was making a huge mistake trusting so thoroughly in a man she scarcely knew.
Not that Charles would have harmed one hair on her pretty head, but who was to say another man would be so scrupulous? All those two old men cared about was seeing their plans carried out and their children married to each other, consequences be damned.
He crumpled his father’s message into a ball and tossed it into the fireplace grate, then turned and strode out of the room. “Gordon!”
He started up the stairs, still calling for his valet. “Gordon!”
“All that hollering ain’t going to fetch him.” Mrs. Bridges emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron. “He ain’t here.”
“Where is he?” Charles was not in the mood for Mrs. Bridges’s peevishness.
“Gone off with Lady Cecily and that snippy maid of hers and that cheeky young man.” She made a face. “They’re with the Madam.” She emphasized the title and rolled her eyes.
Charles pulled out his watch and flipped open the lid. “It’s after two. Surely they’ve returned by now.”
“Don’t believe a word I say. See if I care!” Mrs. Bridges threw up her hands and turned away.
“No, no.” He rushed after her. “I’m sorry Mrs. Bridges. I didn’t mean I don’t believe you, but. . . maybe they slipped in without your noticing?”
“I’ve got ears like a cat’s. Nothing and nobody gets by me.”
Charles could believe this was true. Mrs. Bridges knew everything that went on for a five-mile radius around the ranch. “Did they send word by anyone that they were staying late with Miss Waters?”
She shook her head. “Not a peep. Considering how between them they ain’t got no more horse sense than one ordinary cowboy, I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t wandering the prairie like a bunch of stray sheep, or ambushed by a gang of outlaws or renegade Redskins.”
A pain began to pound behind Charles’ temples. A lesser gentleman would have ordered Mrs. Bridges to shut up at once. But for all her crotchety ways, she was a decent cook, and good help was difficult to find in this sparsely-populated place. “Thank you, Mrs. Bridges. That will be all.”
“How many for dinner then, sir?”
He rubbed his temples. “How many? Same as last night, of course.”
She shrugged. “I just thought if some of them weren’t coming back, I wouldn’t bother to set a place.”
“That will be all, Mrs. Bridges.”
When she had vanished into the kitchen once more, he returned to the study. Of course Cecily and the others were coming back! How preposterous to think they would not. All that talk about outlaws and Indians was sheer nonsense. Obviously Mrs. Bridges had been reading too many of the yellow-backed novels of which she was so fond.
He sank down into his desk chair. He couldn’t discount everything she’d said, however. None of the group she’d mentioned was native to the area. Even Gordon was not as familiar with the terrain as Charles, and there were times when he had to double back to get his bearings. With three women and a green young man along, they might very well have gotten lost. The vastness of the landscape looked so much the same, and though it seemed as if one could see forever in any direction, numerous ravines and wallows obscured even the horizon from view.
He pulled out his watch and checked it again. Twenty after two. Only three hours until dark. If they were lost, Cecily would grow frightened. Though Indians and outlaws weren’t a daily threat, there were bad men who roamed under cover of darkness. Cattle thieves, mostly, who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot anyone who stood in their way. Shoot them, or worse. A beauty like Cecily might prove too much of a temptation for the wrong sort of man.
Heart pounding in concert with his head, he lunged from his chair toward the door. He’d retrace their route now, and if he couldn’t locate them, he’d summon a search party. He prayed he would find them, though, before it was too late.
* * *
After Abbie and Madame LeFleur completed their dealings, Cecil
y persuaded Abbie to show them more of her ranch. Whereas Charles had been reticent about his work, Abbie seemed to enjoy the chance to talk. She discussed the cattle breeds she was experimenting with, pointed out the different brands for cattle and horses, and answered Cecily’s questions about the day-to-day operation of the ranch. With encouragement from Cecily and Nick, she even demonstrated the art of roping a cow.
“You shouldn’t encourage him, m’lady,” Alice said to Cecily as Nick took the coiled rope from Abbie and tried a few wobbly twirls over his head. “He’ll be practicing all the time now instead of seeing to his duties.”
“Nick doesn’t really have that many duties now that we’re in Texas,” Cecily said. “Charles doesn’t seem to be in need of a footman.”
“Then we should find him some duties and quick, before he sets about killing himself riding wild horses and such.” Alice’s voice was stern, but her expression betrayed real concern.
“I’ll talk to Charles and see what we can do,” Cecily said.
“Not meaning to pry, m’lady, but has his lordship said anything more about when you’ll be wedding?” Alice pretended to straighten the seams of her gloves, but Cecily recognized the anxiety in her voice.
“No, he has not. We haven’t really had the opportunity to discuss it. I’m sure he’s waiting until I’m more settled.”
“Of course, m’lady. I was only asking because if the ceremony’s to be here instead of England, I’ll need to be seeing to your gown. I don’t expect the local shops will be having the sort of material we’ll be needing.”
Cecily hadn’t thought much about that aspect of things when she’d set sail for America. Though she would have preferred a wedding in England, with family and friends around her, she would readily accept a smaller ceremony here, if it meant she and Charles would be together. A Texas wedding was better than no wedding at all. Part of her feared that might be how she’d end up, unless she succeeded in changing Charles’ mind. “I promise I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve set a definite date,” she said.
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