Rocky Mountain Proposal

After two years, Tolley Northam returns home, transformed from a mischievous youth into an ambitious lawyer confident of winning his father’s approval at last. But he soon begins to wonder if the only way to do so is to marry family friend Laurie Eberly—a woman his father has always liked. If only she weren’t so adamant about refusing Tolley’s proposal...

Laurie’s childhood friend is now a handsome, accomplished lawyer with undeniable charm. But she can’t accept Tolley’s proposal; she believes it’s just to earn his father’s praise. First he’ll have to prove to her that he wants her for a wife not because his father thinks she’s the perfect match, but because he does.

Laurie’s bright blue eyes shone with kindness.

Could she see his inner turmoil? He dipped his head to hide his face.

She moved forward as if about to jump down from the rail, and Tolley hurried around his horse and grabbed her waist to lift her down. Once her feet touched the barn floor, he didn’t want to let go. Marrying this pretty little gal would have all kinds of benefits, not simply gaining the Colonel’s approval. That selfish thought, so like his old way of thinking, broke his grip like a bee sting. He stepped back. “Those city shoes might turn your ankle if you jump. They’ll sure as anything get messed up if you tromp around these stalls.”

“I suppose so.” She sounded a bit breathless as she blinked those big blue eyes at him.

He started to chuck her under the chin like he used to but resisted the urge. Such a gesture might offend her.

“One of our cowhands can take Gypsy back to Four Stones.”

“Thanks.” He secured his carpetbag to the back of the saddle and mounted up. “See you later, Laurie.”

She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Welcome home, Tolley.”

How did she know those were the exact words he’d needed to hear?

Florida author LOUISE M. GOUGE writes historical fiction for Harlequin’s Love Inspired Historical line. She received the prestigious Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award in 2005 and placed in 2011 and 2015; she also placed in the Laurel Wreath contest in 2012. When she isn’t writing, she and her husband, David, enjoy visiting historical sites and museums. Please visit her website at blog.louisemgouge.com.

Cowboy Homecoming

Louise M. Gouge

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Man looketh on the outward appearance,

but the Lord looketh on the heart.

—1 Samuel 16:7b

This book series is dedicated to the intrepid pioneers who settled the San Luis Valley of Colorado in the mid to late 1800s. They could not have found a more beautiful place to make their homes than in this vast 7500-foot-high valley situated between the majestic Sangre de Cristo and San Juan Mountain ranges.

Thanks go to my beloved husband of fifty-two years, David Gouge, for his loving support as I pursue my dream of writing love stories to honor the Lord Jesus Christ.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

June 1885

San Luis Valley, Colorado

At last!

Tolley Northam struggled to keep from laughing with unfettered happiness as the Denver and Rio Grande train descended onto the vast San Luis Valley plains, picking up speed after its laborious climb over La Veta Pass. After wiping what must be a foolish grin off his face, Tolley glanced around the Pullman car at his fellow passengers, especially the couple who’d sat across from him since the train left Walsenburg early this morning.

“Almost home.” The middle-aged woman gave him a maternal smile, reminding him of Mother.

“Yes, ma’am.” When they’d asked about his travels, he’d told them about attending college in Boston to become a lawyer and how he now headed home to open his practice and help run the family ranch. “My whole family will be at the train station. They always come out in force to welcome home family members who’ve traveled.”

“As it should be.” The husband nodded his approval. “We expect our son and his family to be waiting for us in Alamosa.”

The two years in Boston had seemed like an eternity, but at last Tolley would be back on the family’s ranch doing the work he loved. Of course he’d honor his father’s wishes and set up a law practice, as befitted his Harvard law studies. He’d even purchased a shingle that should please the Colonel, as everyone called his formidable father. Gone was the mischievous boy who’d caused more than his share of trouble. Tolley vowed to be the perfect son so maybe, just maybe, the Colonel would at last approve of him.

He’d pictured this day in his mind for the entire two years. He’d kiss Mother first, of course. Shake hands with his brothers and brother-in-law. Kiss his sister and sisters-in-law on the cheek. Embrace his nieces and nephews, some of whom he’d never met. But his imaginings always stalled over how he’d greet the Colonel. Maybe the old man would reach out to shake his hand and Tolley wouldn’t have to decide. But then, their bitter parting had been fueled by anger on both sides. He could only pray the Colonel had mellowed.

Tolley gulped back the fear that always tried to consume him when he recalled the night his father ordered him to leave, ordered him to Boston to become a lawyer and finally make something useful of his sorry self. After all he’d done as a boy and youth, Tolley couldn’t deny he’d needed correction, but if he ever had a son, he’d guide him with a loving hand, something he’d learned about from an elderly Boston pastor. Yet all of old Reverend Harris’s paternal kindness didn’t change Tolley’s desperate need for his own father’s approval.

He shook away his thoughts. If nothing else, the rest of the family would welcome him home, and Tolley could get back to Thor, his Thoroughbred stallion he’d raised himself.

The train chugged to a stop, and the conductor called out, “Alamosa, Colorado.”

“Here we are.” The couple stood and gathered their belongings, and Tolley stood in deference to their age.

“Best wishes for your homecoming.” The man shook Tolley’s hand.

The woman reached up and patted his cheek. “Blessings, dear boy.”

Touched by their kind wishes, Tolley reclaimed his seat and watched through the window as they disembarked. Sure enough, a young family greeted them with hugs and kisses, all the things Tolley looked forward to upon his own imminent arrival at home.

“All aboard!”

The conductor waved his white signal flag to the engineer and then hopped up into the passenger car. The train picked up speed and chugged over the seventeen miles to Esperanza. With every mile, Tolley’s heart seemed to inch closer to his throat. In spite of his pleasant conversation with the couple, by the time the engine screeched to a halt at the yellow-and-brown depot building, Tolley could barely control his shaking, inside and out. He grabbed his carpetbag, followed the other five passengers to the door and descended the three steps to the platform.

The empty platform.

And all the emptier as the other passengers gathered their baggage and went about their business, leaving him alone.

Tolley swallowed hard. He’d written Mother to let her know when he’d arrive. If his father and brothers weren’t eager to see him, she, at least, should’ve come. Perhaps he should get back on the train and keep traveling. But where would he go? This town, this community, held everything he knew and loved. Apparently his love wasn’t returned. Perhaps his youthful mistakes were too much even for these kindhearted people to forgive.

* * *

Laurie Eberly drove the box wagon through the dusty streets of Esperanza as fast as she dared, being out of practice driving the two-horse conveyance. She dreaded the chore ahead of her. Knowing Tolley, he’d pout and bluster over no one being at the station to meet him, and it would all fall on her shoulders to soothe his crossness. Well, it wasn’t Laurie’s fault. She wouldn’t have chosen to take on this responsibility if it weren’t for her love for the rest of the Northam family.

The thick leather reins tugged against her cotton-gloved hands, causing her fingers to ache. In the past two years while she studied at the Denver Music Conservatory, a friend or beau always drove her around so she could protect her hands from strain that might interfere with her piano playing. Now she must reclaim her former skills learned on her family’s cattle ranch.

The windy day sent dust whipping up around her, soiling her yellow gown. She hadn’t had time to change clothes after Nate Northam asked her to fetch his spoiled youngest brother from the train station while the entire Northam family tended a more important matter.

As she’d feared, the moment she turned off Main Street into the depot yard, the Denver and Rio Grande train pulled out of the station and headed west toward Del Norte. After the last car sped past her, she could see Tolley standing alone beside two trunks and a carpetbag. The hunched-up look of his shoulders made him seem angry, just as she’d expected.

Or was it something else? The word forlorn came to mind, but she quickly dismissed it. Brash, know-it-all Tolley Northam could never be accused of having such a wounded disposition. He’d always done most of the wounding.

She set the brake and climbed down from the wagon, taking care that her new high-topped white shoes didn’t slip on the narrow step. As she walked toward Tolley, remembering to take small, ladylike steps as she’d learned at the conservatory, he caught sight of her and gave her a smile of recognition.

Something slammed into her chest. She stopped walking and reached up to see what had struck her. Nothing. Not even a stray rock whipped up by the train wheels or blown by the wind. It was his smile, the one that sent all the girls into a swoon. Even Laurie fell for it as a young girl. But no more. She’d known Tolley all her life, and she’d never let him have her heart, no matter how devastating his smile. She exhaled crossly. A troublemaking young man simply shouldn’t be that handsome.

Continuing her walk toward him, she hurried to mend her attitude. No matter what he’d done in the past, even Tolley Northam didn’t deserve to hear bad news delivered in an unkindly manner.

* * *

Tolley’s heart began to race. He could hardly believe the beautiful vision gliding toward him with the grace of a skilled ice skater on a frozen pond. Little Laurie Eberly. My, how her gait had changed from the stride of a cowhand to that of an elegant lady. How she’d grown into a lovely young woman in two years. Her face had the slender lines of a Greek sculpture. Her posture exuded confidence and refinement rivaling any Boston debutante’s. In all of his boyhood mischief, he’d never flirted with girls, but this beautiful woman’s appearance tempted him to try.

Nonsense. The Eberly girls were like sisters to his brothers and him. Of course, the Colonel always wanted at least one marriage between the two families. Maybe he should marry this little gal. Then the Eberly family would turn out to welcome him home next time he traveled.

“Good morning, Tolley.” Laurie offered no smile, and her eyes held a guarded look as she approached him.

“Morning, Laurie.” Tolley smiled, which only made her wince. “If you’re meeting somebody, I’m afraid they didn’t arrive or went off before you got here.” He should’ve talked to more of his fellow passengers to see if they knew any of his friends. But he’d spent most of his travel time talking about himself to anyone who’d listen. Another failure on his part.

“I came to meet you.” Laurie touched his arm, and a spark shot clear up to his shoulder, raising gooseflesh on his neck. “Nate asked me.”

He had no time to examine his response to her or his bitter disappointment. Before anger could take hold of him over his family’s careless neglect, tears shone in her eyes, and fear crowded into his heart. “What is it? Mother?” Three years ago, Mother and the Colonel went to Italy for her health. Did her heart finally give out?

Laurie shook her head, and her sunny red curls bounced around her face. “It’s your father, Tolley.” She gripped his arm more firmly. “Doc says it’s apoplexy.”

For countless moments, Tolley couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Finally, he managed, “I-is he—?”

“No, he’s not gone.” The words not yet hung in the air between them.

Laurie stared away for a moment, then gazed up at him with sweet compassion. “Your family is with him now. I know your mother will be glad to see you.” She waved a hand toward a box wagon he recognized from the many times he’d visited the Eberly place while growing up, the ranch next to his own family’s spread. “Maybe we can find someone to help load your trunks.” She glanced around the area.

“I can get them. Just drive the wagon over here. No, wait. I’ll get it.” In the past, the Eberly girls would’ve considered his gentlemanly offer offensive, being capable cowhands themselves.

This new Laurie simply smiled. “Thank you.”

Tolley quickly loaded his trunks and took the reins. As he drove, he and Laurie didn’t speak. His mind disoriented, he couldn’t even think of what to ask about his father’s illness.

The familiar sights of Esperanza, along with the newer buildings, filtered past his numbness. Mrs. Winsted’s mercantile. Williams’s Café. The barber shop. Across the street sat the bank, the sheriff’s office and two empty buildings. At the corner where they turned south, the Esperanza Arms, his sister’s hotel, loomed over the town with its three towering stories, shops lining the south side and a narrow portico on the east.

Tolley guided the team of horses around the corner headed south and urged them to a brisk trot. Down one side street, he spied Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse. On another street stood the high school Tolley helped to build. Would anyone remember that good deed?

The more important question? Would he see the Colonel before he died?

* * *

Laurie clung to the side of the driver’s bench, sure she’d tumble to the ground if they hit a bump. Tolley drove with understandable urgency, but he also skirted around the worst of the ruts and dips in the road. He obviously hadn’t lost his driving skill while in Boston. Aching sympathy rose up within her, accompanied by a pinch of shame over her poor attitude about coming to town to fetch him home.

While she couldn’t say for sure, it appeared Tolley had changed. Even before she delivered the bad news about the Colonel, Tolley’s gaze in her direction appeared softer, gentler than before. His countenance exuded some quality she couldn’t name. What she’d first regarded as belligerence in his posture now appeared to be vulnerability, especially in light of his father’s condition.

“What happened?” His question startled her out of her reverie.

“Nate said they found him unconscious in the barn last evening. I didn’t press him for details because he needed to get back to the ranch.”

Tolley kept his eyes on the road and gave her a curt nod. “Doc’s with him?”

“Yes.” Her brother-in-law, Doc Henshaw, was the most capable doctor in the San Luis Valley.

“If anyone could help the Colonel, it’s Doc.” Tolley smiled, and Laurie’s heart warmed at his attempt at problem-solving. But then, he’d always been that way, from trying to fix her broken corncob doll to trying to figure out how to build a bridge over Cat Creek. Once again, shame pinched at her conscience for assuming the worst about him. Since Tolley’s childhood, his father had heaped condemnation on him, sometimes warranted, sometimes not. Laurie needn’t add her own disapproval.

Four Stones Ranch lay about six miles south of Esperanza. Even at a brisk trot, it took over twenty minutes to traverse the distance. Tolley turned down Four Stones Lane and drove into the barnyard at the back of the house. His brother Rand, an older version of Tolley and second oldest of the four Northam children, came out to meet them just as Tolley jumped down from the wagon.

“Tolley!” Rand shook his brother’s hand and slapped him on the back as if nothing was wrong. “Good to see you. Welcome home.”

Tolley gave him a shaky grin. “I wish it could be under better circumstances.”

“Rand, is there anything I can do?” Laurie remained on the driver’s bench, knowing what his answer would be but still needing to offer. Her pa had come over here once they got the news of his old friend’s illness, but he must’ve left already, for his horse wasn’t tied to the back hitching rail.

“Thanks, Laurie, but no. The whole family’s inside. You’ve been a big help by bringing this maverick home.”

Did he even notice Tolley’s wince at his teasing? Probably not. His own face bore a worried look. The two men unloaded the trunks and said their goodbyes.

“We’ll be praying for you all.” Laurie took up the reins and guided the team toward the lane. A glance back toward the house revealed two dejected brothers heading inside, shoulders slumped with sorrow.

Tolley had changed. She just knew it. And even if no one else noticed the difference in him, she’d try her best to help him find his place in the community. “It’ll have to be pretty fast, Lord.” She glanced up at the clear blue sky. “I’m going back to Denver in September, so please help me be the friend Tolley needs until then.”

As always when she discussed the subject of returning to Denver with the Lord, an uneasy feeling crept into her chest. She dismissed it, as always. Of course the Lord wanted her to return to that lovely, growing city. As the daughter of a successful cattle rancher, she’d fit into Denver society like a hand in a glove, and she could hardly wait to begin her teaching career at the conservatory.

* * *

Leaving his hat on a peg in the mudroom, Tolley moved through the house in a daze. Familiar smells met his senses: fresh-baked bread, leather, Mother’s roses. His seven-year-old niece, Lizzie, grabbed him around the waist and cried out a weepy welcome. He bent down to return her hug. The other children were nowhere in sight, but they wouldn’t know him anyway. His oldest brother, Nate, came downstairs and shook Tolley’s hand. Their sister, Rosamond, embraced him and sobbed briefly on his shoulder. His two sisters-in-law and one brother-in-law each greeted him. From their warm if subdued responses, he thought he’d said the right thing to each one.

He climbed the front staircase on wooden legs, fearing what he’d find at the end of the second-floor hallway. Gathering courage, he nudged the door open.

Mother rose to greet him. “Tolley.” She spoke his name as if he’d only come in from milking the cows, at the same time moving between him and the four-poster bed where the Colonel lay. But Mother was too short to hide Tolley’s view of the motionless figure lying there, his full bush of dark hair shot through with far more strands of white than when Tolley left home. He pulled her into a gentle embrace and kissed the top of her head.

“How is he?” He whispered the question, even though the Colonel appeared beyond hearing. The old man’s eyes were closed, and his complexion, weathered to a deep tan by a lifetime in the sun, bore a gray pallor.

She sniffed and dabbed her cheeks with a handkerchief. “Still with us. Doc gives us hope—” She choked on the word.

A movement on his right caught his attention.

“Welcome home, Tolley.” Doc Henshaw stepped near him and reached out to shake his hand. “Let’s go out to the hall.” Still gripping Tolley’s hand, he urged him out of the room as though he had no right to be there. “I’ve reason to believe he can hear, so it’s best to discuss his condition out here,” he whispered.

Breaking away from Doc, Tolley couldn’t keep anger from his voice. “Are my brothers and Rosamond allowed to see him?”

Doc gave him a sad smile, but didn’t answer.

“Why can’t I see him? If he can hear, can’t I tell him I’m home?”

“Soon enough. I’m still assessing his condition.” Doc clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Why don’t you settle in? You must be tired from your trip.”

Every instinct told him to force his way back into the sickroom so he could see for himself how his father fared. But instinct had been his worst enemy while he grew up, getting him into more scrapes than he could remember. Old Reverend Harris in Boston taught him to be more thoughtful and to take more time to make decisions.

“All right.” He turned away from the now-closed door. Didn’t Mother even want to see him? To welcome him home with more than a brief embrace?

He walked down the hallway to his bedroom and opened the door.

“Shh.” Rita, the family housekeeper, rose from a rocking chair and hurried toward him. “The little ones are sleeping, Senor Tolley.” Whispering, she waved a hand toward two small heads at rest on his pillow and a cradle holding a red-haired doll that must be Rand’s new daughter. “Senora Northam uses this room as the nursery now. The children often come here.”

Tolley’s knees threatened to buckle. So he couldn’t even find refuge in his old bedroom. Even his belongings were nowhere in sight. “I see. Very well.” He backed out into the hallway and made his way downstairs to the front parlor, where the others had gathered.

His brothers had made no move to bring his trunks inside. In fact, the moment he entered the room, they traded guarded looks. Nate cleared his throat.

“This all happened very suddenly, Tolley. Last night, when we heard about the Colonel’s...illness, Rand and I agreed we needed to move our families here so we can run the ranch and our wives can run the house. Then Mother won’t have to worry about a thing. We moved here this morning and, as you can see, it sort of makes for a full house.”

Rosamond, always the protective big sister, came over and looped her arm in his. “We expected you to stay in Boston for another year.” Compassion filled her voice, making him uncomfortable. “To finish your schooling.”

“I did finish.” He lifted his chin defensively and continued before they could ask questions. “I wrote to the Colorado attorney general in Denver. Judge Thomas sent me the paperwork, and based on my performance at Harvard, he’s accepted me into the Colorado judicial system. That’s more than a whole lot of so-called lawyers achieve all over the West where there’s no accountability. A lot of men hang out a shingle without even having any training.”

Why did he always feel the need to defend himself, despite being twenty-two years old? It didn’t seem to matter how much he’d accomplished; they still treated him like the baby of the family. Wouldn’t they ever let him grow up? “I wrote to Mother about coming, but I asked her not to say anything. I wanted to surprise everyone else.”

Silence filled the room. His brother-in-law, Garrick, joined Rosamond and took her hand. “Sweetheart, let’s have Tolley stay at the hotel until everything returns to normal.” His English accent no longer irritated Tolley, but his suggestion needled him. Moving to the hotel would be another way to separate him from his family during this terrible crisis.

“Maybe Mrs. Foster has an empty room.” Marybeth spoke up. She’d lived in the widow’s boardinghouse before she married Rand. “It’ll be much homier than the hotel.” The pretty Irish lady gave Tolley a warm, sisterly smile, and the red curls around her ivory face momentarily reminded him of Laurie Eberly. Right now, he’d appreciate having Laurie around. At least she’d welcomed him home.

Because Marybeth meant well with her suggestion, Tolley couldn’t fault her. Yet he remembered both she and Susanna actually employed deceit with the entire family when each one first came to Esperanza. Of course, after considerable turmoil in both cases, they’d ended up marrying his brothers, but not until after each one asked for forgiveness. Why could they be forgiven for their wrongdoing, but he couldn’t? Why was he always the one on the outside?

“Sure.” He infused his voice with as much energy as he could. “I’ll go into town right now and see if Mrs. Foster has a room.” He headed for the back door, where he’d dropped his carpetbag. He’d saddle Thor to ride to town and leave his trunks for the cowhands to bring later. For now, he couldn’t wait to get away. No matter how his heart ached over his family’s rejection, he’d do what was best for everyone.

He strode across the barnyard toward the weathered barn. A tiny figure in a blue gingham dress stood outside the main corral. Little Lizzie peered through the slats at the horses milling about. At least Lizzie had given Tolley a heartfelt welcome when he arrived.

“Hey, sprout, what’s up?” He started to tousle her hair, but that would mess up her perfect blond braid. Instead, he patted her head.

She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Uncle Tolley, is Grampa going to die?”

Tolley swallowed hard. “Naw. He’s too tough. Say, have you learned to ride yet?” He grabbed her waist and lifted her up to sit on the top rail, which brought on a bout of giggles, just as he’d hoped.

“No, sir.” Lizzie’s blue eyes turned sad again. “Mama says I’m too young.”

“Too young?” Tolley stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Aren’t you about twenty-five?”

“Uncle Tolleeeee!” She giggled again, as he’d hoped she would. “I’m seven.”

“My, my. All grown up.”

“Besides, nobody has time to teach me.” She sighed and looked at him with those big blue eyes.

“You little rascal.” Tolley laughed for the first time since he’d gotten off the train, a true belly laugh. “Maybe I’ll have time to teach you.” Especially since his family didn’t seem to need him for anything else.

“Would you please?” Lizzie launched herself off the rail and flung her arms around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.

He laughed again and managed to catch her up in a firm hug without falling down.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” An angry male voice accompanied the thump of boots on the hard-packed yard.

Still holding on to Lizzie, Tolley turned to see Seamus O’Brien, Marybeth’s brother and the Northams’ ranch foreman, stalking toward him, fists bunched at his sides. As Tolley set Lizzie down, Seamus stopped and blinked.

“Tolley? Well, of all things. I’m glad to see it’s you. I was worried somebody was about to carry off our little Lizzie.” He reached out and shook Tolley’s hand.

“Uncle Seamus, you’re so silly.” Lizzie spied one of the barn cats and danced away to catch it. “Here, kitty.”

“How’re you doing, Tolley?” Seamus gave him a respectful smile, no longer looking at him as if he were a troublemaking youngster. Which, of course, he had been, driving all the cowhands crazy with his pranks and dragging a few of them into trouble with him.

“Not bad.” He couldn’t exactly tell this man his family had just the same as run him off. Being Rand’s brother-in-law, he’d deny it...or make excuses for them. “I thought I’d saddle Thor and ride him into town.”

“Um, I see.” Seamus’s face crinkled up with perplexity.

“What’s going on? Has something happened to my horse?” Tolley’s stomach turned. He doubted he could stand any more bad news.

“Nothing like that.” Seamus shrugged. “Last month the Colonel sent him over to the Eberly place for stud purposes. George wants some of that Thoroughbred blood in his herd.”

Tolley sagged with relief. The Colonel and George Eberly had settled here at the same time with plans to help each other build their large spreads. The Colonel made it no secret he wanted Nate or Rand to marry one of the five Eberly girls. When they’d married other ladies, all such talk ceased, of course. Once again, the idea that he should marry Laurie crept into his thoughts. Of course, he could only offer her a marriage of convenience, but—No, he must stop such foolish thinking, even if it would give him one more way to impress the Colonel when...if...he recovered.

Tolley forced his thoughts in another direction. “Seamus, if my old saddle is still in the barn, I’d like to ride over and visit Thor.” And Laurie. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. “You tell me which horse I should take.”

“How about Gypsy?”

Tolley winced. He owed the bay mare a big apology. Maybe he could make amends to her today. Did Seamus remember what Tolley did to her? “Gypsy’s fine.”

The Irishman grinned. “You remember how to saddle a horse?”

“I think I can manage.” If Gypsy would even let him near her after the last time he put a saddle on her.

* * *

Laurie tried to peel the potatoes, but the dull kitchen knife sliced too deeply. She dried her left hand and reached for the whetstone on the shelf beside the table.

“Now, now.” Ma grabbed the slender stone and gently took the knife from Laurie. “You gotta take care of those hands, darlin’. I can peel the vegetables.”

Laurie hid her quiet sigh of frustration. In the two weeks since she’d returned home, if she worked here in the kitchen or dusted the parlor or washed her laundry, either Ma or Georgia moved her aside and took over. Why did they pamper her as though she were a delicate doll who needed protection?

At least she’d been allowed to drive into town and fetch poor Tolley from the train, but only because she and Pa were the only ones around when Nate arrived with the sad news about the Colonel. Pa hurried over to Four Stones Ranch to see his friend while Nate helped her hitch up the team. She’d had no trouble driving. True, her hands still ached from wearing cotton gloves instead of leather, but they weren’t really hurt.

How could she keep from boredom for the entire summer on this busy ranch if she wasn’t permitted to lift a finger to work? In Denver, the ladies with whom she’d socialized did charity work when not engaged in teas or parties. At the least, they sewed for the poor, another thing Ma wouldn’t permit. “Why don’t you go practice piano?”

The perfect diversion. Laurie loved to play and looked forward to giving concerts when she returned to Denver. Seated at the piano by the parlor’s front window, she found the simple act of practicing her scales helped to work some of the ache from her fingers. Then she thumbed through her hymnal and practiced her favorite hymns to refresh her memory in case Mrs. Foster asked her to play for church.

A movement outside the window caught her eye. To her surprise, Tolley rode down the lane toward the barnyard. What could he be doing here?

Her heart skipped, then dropped. Did he bring bad news about his father? But wouldn’t they send a cowhand instead of a family member if Pa’s dear friend had died? Wouldn’t the family want to gather together and comfort one another?

Laurie dashed through the house to the back door, seeing through the glass that Tolley had dismounted and tied his horse to the back hitching rail. Her heart pounded, no doubt from the short run. After all, in Denver she’d never run. Ladies didn’t, after all. And of course her haste accounted for her inability to breathe as Tolley approached the house.

She flung open the back door. “Tolley! Is everything all right?”

He gave her that dangerous smile, which surely gave other girls palpitations. Not her, of course, because she knew him too well. As he came closer, she saw the pain in his eyes, and all thoughts of his good looks disappeared, replaced by the compassion she’d felt for him on the ride from town.

“Tolley, what is it?”

“Aw, nothing. Just wanted to get reacquainted with my horse. Is he in the barn or out in a pasture?” His false good humor didn’t fool her.

She touched his arm. “Is everything all right at home?”

His smile slipped. “If you call having to find someplace to live because there’s no room at the ranch for me ‘all right,’ then yes, everything’s fine.”

“No place to live in your family’s home?” She couldn’t keep the indignation from her voice. “Why on earth?”

There was that smile again. “Aw, it’s all right. Doc says the Colonel is likely to recover, so I don’t need to stay close in case he—” He cleared his throat. “My brothers and their wives need to be close by to help our folks, so it takes up all the bedrooms. Besides, I need to live in town so I can set up my law practice.”

He didn’t fool her. His hurt feelings were obvious. But she wouldn’t contradict him. “So, your sister’s hotel or Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse?” She punctuated her words with raised eyebrows and a silly grin, something she never would’ve offered any Denver acquaintance, either gentleman or lady.

He responded with a genuine laugh. “You know our town.” And offered a charming shrug. “I’ll try Mrs. Foster’s first. More homey. Better cooking.”

Laurie returned a gentle laugh. “So true. Although you may want to try Chef Henrique’s French cuisine at the hotel.”

“No, just give me a juicy steak or chicken and dumplings any day.” He closed his eyes. “Mmm-mmm.”

A hint? The aroma of cooking chicken wafted through the open window. “You can stay for dinner.”

“Naw, I’d better head into town and find out where I’ll be staying tonight. But thanks.”

“Well, then, let’s find Thor.”

The stallion grazed in a near pasture, and she sent a cowhand to fetch him. The horse pranced majestically on his lead rope, but when he spied Tolley, he whinnied and broke away, cantering toward them. Lowering his head and rubbing against Tolley’s chest, the magnificent beast acknowledged his master and friend. Eyes closed, Tolley pressed his head against Thor’s.

The meeting between horse and man moved Laurie to tears. Maybe Tolley’s family had no room for him, but his faithful horse gave him a welcome any cowboy would envy.

He needed a friend, so she’d be that person. Only she mustn’t revive her foolish childhood affections for him. She’d noticed romances couldn’t be successful if built on sympathy. Besides, she’d found her place in Denver and would return there in the fall, so she must keep her heart reined in.

That bothersome, undefined reservation about Denver crept into her mind, but as always, she dismissed it. It was her dream, after all.

Chapter Two

Tolley led Thor and Gypsy to the barn to curry both horses and move his saddle from the mare to his stallion. Laurie tagged along just as she used to as a pesky little tomboy wearing braids and trousers. Only this time, instead of finding her presence annoying, he found it comforting. And helpful. She brought him a currying brush and pointed to stalls where he could work on the horses, but her being there helped most of all.

Thor needed a good brushing, and he leaned into the stiff-bristled brush, whickering his appreciation. While working on the magnificent beast, Tolley felt his heart lighten in an unexpected way. This is where he longed to be, working with horses and raising prime beef. Not sitting behind a desk in a dull law office pushing papers around and making sure his clients filed the right land forms or got their fair share in business deals. He certainly wasn’t interested in defending outlaws.

“You missed a spot.” Laurie, who’d climbed up to sit on the stall’s top rail, pointed to Thor’s left side. Her impudent grin sent a warm feeling through his chest.

He walked around Thor and saw the thick patch of hair. “Why don’t you grab a brush and help me out?” He nodded toward the wall where brushes and tack hung on pegs.

To his surprise, she sighed. “Ma made me promise not to work with the horses.” She held up her hands. “She’s afraid I’ll ruin these for playing the piano.”

“Huh. That’s odd.” He shrugged. “I never figured any of the Eberly girls would turn out to be—” Dainty came to mind, not a word usually associated with these cowgirls.

“Useless?”

“Not at all.” He swiped the brush over Thor’s side. “Do you miss it?”

“Not so much the work, but I do miss feeling useful.”

I know how you feel. But he wouldn’t say that. Instead, he gave her a sympathetic smile as he brushed out the last of Thor’s coat and cleaned the clump of hair from the currying brush. “There you go, boy.” He patted the stallion’s rump and moved over to the next stall.

Was it his imagination, or did Gypsy eye him nervously? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. She’d been fairly docile when he saddled and rode her here, no longer a lively horse. Was that his fault?

“Here you go, beauty. Let’s make you comfortable.” He threw the left stirrup over the saddle, loosened the cinch and let the girth fall, then lifted the saddle and blanket off her back.

“You need a fresh blanket?” Laurie waved toward the tack room where multitiered racks held blankets and saddles.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea. This one’s damp and needs airing.” Another homey feeling swept through him. Their families always helped each other, knowing they’d get their own things back in due time.

He grabbed a fresh brush and worked on Gypsy’s coat. His fingers swept over a dark, shallow dip on her back where the saddle had sat, and a chill plunged clear down to his belly. This was where he’d wounded her two years ago by slipping a large burr between blanket and horse to keep Garrick from winning the Independence Day horse race. He’d expected Gypsy to throw Garrick. Instead, the mare raced her heart out, every stride digging the burr deeper into her flesh. She and Garrick finished only a half-length behind Tolley and Thor.

Later, during the dance, Tolley picked a fight with Garrick, earning himself the Colonel’s sentence of banishment to Boston. And all because the Colonel had shown favor to the Englishman such as he’d never shown Tolley. Even now, shame vied with jealous anger. While he’d made friends with Garrick when he and Rosamond came through Boston on their honeymoon and had been forgiven by the man, now his brother-in-law, he’d never understand why his own father seemed to despise him. Or worse, never gave him a second thought, as though he didn’t even exist unless he got into trouble. And now maybe the Colonel would never know all Tolley had done to try to earn his favor.

“Tolley?” Laurie’s bright blue eyes shone with kindness.

Could she see his inner turmoil? He dipped his head to hide his face.

“Yeah?” He moved away from Gypsy and fetched a fresh blanket from the tack room, then smoothed it over Thor’s back.

“You sure you don’t want something to eat before you go to town?”

He placed his saddle on the stallion and reached under his belly to grab the girth. “No, thanks. I’ll grab a bite at Miss Pam’s.” After cinching the girth, he looked over Thor’s back at Laurie. “She still runs the café, right?”

“Yes. And still makes the best pies and cakes.”

“I seem to recall all of you Eberly ladies are mighty fine cooks, too.”

“We try.” Laurie moved forward as if about to jump down from the rail.

Tolley hurried around his horse and grabbed her waist to lift her down. Once her feet touched the barn floor, he didn’t want to let go. Marrying this pretty little gal would have all kinds of benefits, not simply gaining the Colonel’s approval. That selfish thought, so like his old way of thinking, broke his grip like a bee sting. He stepped back. “Those city shoes might turn your ankle if you jump. They’ll sure as anything get messed up if you tromp around these stalls.”

“I suppose so.” She sounded a bit breathless as she blinked those big blue eyes at him. “You sure you won’t stay for dinner?” she repeated.

“Still no, but thanks.” He started to chuck her under the chin like he used to but resisted the urge. Such a gesture might offend her.

“One of our cowhands can take Gypsy back to Four Stones.”

“Thanks.” He secured his carpetbag to the back of the saddle and mounted up. “See you later, Laurie.”

She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Welcome home, Tolley.”

How did she know those were the exact words he’d needed to hear?

* * *

As Tolley rode away, Laurie shook her head. No matter how fond of him she used to be, she also remembered his boyhood mischief and the way he’d hurt many people. Besides, despite how attractive he was, she refused to fall for a San Luis Valley man, especially one who wanted to settle here. Her future lay in Denver.

After picking at her noon meal, she tried practicing piano again. But she kept looking out the window to see if Tolley would ride by. A silly idea, of course, because he’d be in town at Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse or Rosamond’s hotel.

Maybe she could spend time with Maisie and help with baby Johnny. One day Laurie hoped to have children, too. Oddly, all she could picture were pint-sized cowboys learning to ride on one of the tamer old cow ponies on the ranch. Another silly idea, because her children would live in a Denver mansion and attend boarding schools.

“Ma, if I promise not to work too hard, may I visit Maisie for a few days?”

“Why, what a wonderful idea.” Ma plunged the dinner dishes into the hot soapy water and began to wash them.

“I’ll dry the dishes first.” Laurie grabbed a tea towel.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Ma tugged the towel away from her. “You go on and pack a bag. I’m sure Maisie will welcome the visit. George, you be sure to saddle Laurie’s horse, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Seated at the kitchen table, Pa grinned and winked at Laurie. At least he didn’t treat her like a fragile flower. “I’ll take care of it, sunshine.”

By the time she’d changed clothes and packed, Pa had Little Bit saddled and waiting by the back door. He’d also put her rifle in the saddle holster as protection against possible encounters with coyotes or rattlesnakes.

She took her time riding the nearly five miles to Esperanza. The warm, sunny day had just the right amount of breeze wafting over the landscape. Birds sang or chirped in the shallow marshes along the road, and in the distance she saw rabbits out for an afternoon stroll. Or so her Denver friends might think. Laurie itched to shoot the critters to take to Maisie for supper. But that would involve skinning and gutting them. Maisie might not have time, and Ma would throw a fit if Laurie used a hunting knife to do the job.

At Maisie and Doc’s two-story house, she tied Little Bit’s reins to the front hitching rail beside another horse and the undertaker’s hearse. One of Doc’s patients must have died, and others needed his care. He must have returned from Four Stones Ranch after tending the Colonel.

Seated on settees and chairs along the wall in the front hallway, folks awaited Doc’s help.

“So glad you came, sis.” Maisie handed her infant son to Laurie and whispered, “If you can tend Johnny for a bit while Doc finishes up with the dead fella, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’d love to.” Laurie adored the chubby little rascal who’d thrown his tiny arms around her neck. She and her sisters looked enough alike that Johnny seemed to accept her without reservations. “Who died?” Like Maisie, Laurie kept her voice to a whisper.

“Dathan Hardison.” Maisie sounded sad, as though that varmint’s death wasn’t a relief, since he’d lingered near death since before Christmas. All that time, she and Doc tended him, valuing his life as much as any upright citizen’s.

Laurie had her own feelings about Hardison. He’d shot their sister Beryl during a bank robbery attempt. According to their sister Grace, the other outlaw, Deke Smith, repented and came to the Lord...right before he shot Hardison to keep him from killing Grace, Reverend Thomas and Marybeth Northam. Then poor old Deke died, too.

“Did Hardison ever...?” She let the question hang in the air.

Tears eased down Maisie’s cheeks as she shook her head. “Don’t think so. Doc and I did try to persuade him.”

Laurie sighed and hugged Johnny closer. In spite of all the evil Hardison had done, she couldn’t shrug off the dreadful thought of his eternal destination, one of his own choosing.

The surgery’s pocket doors slid open, and Doc appeared in the hallway carrying one end of a stretcher. Deputy Gareau, whose first name, Justice, was appropriate for his work, held up the back end. Mr. Macy, the undertaker, trailed behind. A white sheet covered a body so thin it seemed nearly flat. A murmur went through the waiting area, some saying, “Good riddance.”

Maisie faced the group. “Folks, as soon as I can clean the surgery and Doc finishes up with Mr. Macy, we’ll take care of you.” She entered the room and slid the pocket doors shut.

Dismissing her dismal thoughts about the lost outlaw, Laurie gave Johnny another hug. Maisie needed help, so she’d make herself useful. In Denver, she’d missed the sisterly camaraderie the five of them shared. Had missed lifelong friends, even a rascal like Tolley Northam. Would miss them again when she moved back to the city for good. Of course, she only felt sad about leaving because she loved them all so much. Once back in the city teaching at the conservatory and giving concerts, she’d be happy again. Of course she would.

* * *

Mrs. Foster welcomed Tolley like a long-lost son but asked for time to prepare his room, so he spent the night at the hotel. When he returned the next morning, she showed him to his room.

“I have only two other boarders,” Mrs. Foster said, “but other than mealtimes, they mostly keep to themselves. Mrs. Runyan is the milliner, and Mr. Parsley is a watchmaker. Their shops are over at the hotel.”

“Thank you for the room, ma’am.” Tolley glanced around the spacious, modestly furnished chamber. “You let me know if I can help with anything.”

“Why, I’ll do that, Tolley. Such a kind offer. Adam Starling does a bit of work for me, but he has other jobs around town, so he’s not always available. He’s supporting his family, you know.”

“Yes, ma’am. I know.” Yesterday had been the hardest day of Tolley’s life, but at least money wasn’t a problem. With a sick father, seventeen-year-old Adam bore a heavy load as the man of his family. Tolley’s own father lay ill, too, but nobody needed him to step in and take charge. Nobody needed him at all.

That afternoon, boots off and jacket hanging over the back of a desk chair, he lay on his bed. A warm, pleasant breeze blew in through the open window, fluttering the frilly white curtains and making him drowsy. He’d never realized how tiring travel could be. He’d spent five days and nights on various trains as he crossed the country. With the added emotional shock of the Colonel’s illness and his own exile from home, he felt as beaten down as if he’d walked all the way from Boston. Sleep beckoned, and he relaxed into the comfortable feather mattress. After all, no one needed him. No one even wanted him. Maybe when he set up his law office...

A hard thump, followed by a scream, woke him with a start.

A weak voice called out, “Lord, help me.”

“Mrs. Foster!”

Tolley shook off sleep and dashed from the room. At the bottom of the back staircase, Mrs. Foster lay in a heap, a tin bucket beside her and water covering the stairs and the lady’s skirt. She groaned softly. Taking care not to slip, Tolley descended, soaking his socks in the process.

Mrs. Foster’s eyes filled with tears as she cradled one arm in the other. One black high-top shoe stuck out at an odd angle from beneath the hem of her black muslin skirt.

Heart in his throat, Tolley forced away his horror. “Dear lady, what can I do to help? Shall I carry you up to your room?” Painfully thin, she’d make a light burden.

She shook her head. “Let me catch my breath.” Trembling, she stifled another whimper. “I think my arm is broken.”

“Then I shouldn’t move you. Will you be all right while I fetch Doc Henshaw?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

Coatless, hatless and bootless, Tolley didn’t bother going upstairs to retrieve his garments. He hurried out the back door and across the yard, taking a shortcut through gardens and over fences until he reached Doc Henshaw’s kitchen door, his feet muddy and sore. Unlike in Boston where everyone came to the front door, in Esperanza people generally came to back entrances, at least at the homes of their friends. While he pounded on the door, he realized his mistake. If Doc was home, he’d be working in his surgery at the front of the house.

To his surprise, Laurie opened the door, a red-haired baby on her hip. She looked a bit frazzled and beyond adorable. But he mustn’t waste time on such foolish thoughts.

“Tolley, what on earth?”

“Mrs. Foster fell down the stairs.” He paused to catch his breath. “She thinks her arm may be broken.”

“Oh, no!” Laurie thrust the infant into his arms and hurried from the room.

The baby gave him a startled look and then burst into tears, his cries reaching a high pitch any Boston soprano would be proud of.

“Um, uh, there, there. Shh, shh.” Tolley bounced the little one and gave him a silly grin, which did nothing at all to calm the child.

Maisie entered the kitchen, worry written across her pretty face. “Thank you, Tolley. Here’s Mommy, my sweet darlin’.” She took her son. His wailing ceased, but he eyed Tolley with a wary look. “Doc and Laurie went out the front door.” She glanced toward the door leading to the rest of the house.

Suddenly embarrassed, he gave her a sheepish grin. What had the neighbors thought of a man running through their backyards? “Thanks, Maisie. I’ll walk around the house so I won’t track up your floors.”

As he stepped off the back porch, Maisie called out, “Welcome home, Tolley.”

Appreciating her kind words, he grinned and waved over his shoulder.

* * *

“Laurie, will you get some towels?” Doc knelt beside Mrs. Foster, tending her ankle.

“On the table.” Mrs. Foster waved her uninjured hand toward the kitchen, then grabbed her other arm and bit her lip.

Laurie hurried to do as Doc asked. A stack of neatly folded ivory linen towels sat on the kitchen table. This must be laundry day at the boardinghouse, because other clean items filled a wicker basket nearby, probably awaiting ironing. Did Mrs. Foster do laundry for her boarders? Ironing? The thought didn’t sit well with Laurie. She picked up three of the large towels, thinking of the work involved to make them so fresh-smelling and spotless.

In the hallway, Doc gently examined Mrs. Foster’s foot. “Wrap a towel around her.” He covered her bare foot with another one.

Following his orders, Laurie sat on the bottom step and pulled the shivering woman into her arms. Even though wetness seeped through her own skirt, she hoped her body heat would help warm her dear friend. “What happened?”

“I’ve made a mess of things.” Mrs. Foster released a shaky laugh. “Was taking water upstairs to clean the floors before my boarders come home in another hour.”

Laurie noticed the bucket. “She shouldn’t be carrying full buckets up these stairs.”

Doc shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell her.”

“What you didn’t tell me is how I’m gonna take care of my boarders if I don’t—”

“That’s the last bucket you’ll carry.” Tolley appeared in the doorway to the front hall. “From now on, I’ll take care of hauling water.” He gave Laurie a gentle smile.

Her heart popped right up into her throat. Because of his kind offer, of course, not because of that smile.

“Hey, Tolley.” Doc spared him a glance as he continued his assessment of Mrs. Foster’s injuries. “Good thing you happened along when you did.”

“You want me to carry Mrs. Foster upstairs?” He stood there in his bare feet and with muddy socks dangling from one hand.

“I want to stabilize her injuries first.”

Mrs. Foster sighed, and her pale cheeks turned pink. “I’m so sorry to be such trouble.”

“Now, now,” Doc said. “You’re no trouble at all. Tolley, would you go back to the surgery and ask Maisie to send over a large and a small splint?” He gave Tolley a quick grin. “You could put something on your feet first.”

Now Tolley’s cheeks took on a little color. “Sure thing.” He made his way to the front staircase, and the sound of his bare feet running up the steps came through the walls and ceiling.

If Mrs. Foster’s situation weren’t so dire, Laurie would’ve giggled. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“How about some tea?” Doc’s forehead creased slightly. “Wait. Mrs. Foster, would you like for Laurie to help you into some dry clothes?”

“Y-yes, p-please.” She shivered again despite the warm day.

Laurie didn’t need further instructions. Within ten minutes, she’d fetched a dry gown and underpinnings for the lady and helped her change while Doc made tea in the kitchen. Tolley returned with the splints, then disappeared upstairs while Doc secured them to Mrs. Foster’s leg and arm. Doc also gave her the tea.

“I’m sorry to say the arm is broken, but I think your ankle is only sprained. The willow bark in your tea should help a little with the pain, but be sure to tell me if you need something stronger.” He lifted Mrs. Foster and began the trek up to her room. With Tolley and Laurie helping, they soon settled her in her four-poster bed.

“Oh, dear.” The usually calm lady fluttered her uninjured hand over the quilted coverlet. “How will I care for my boarders?”

“Don’t you worry for a minute.” Laurie gently grasped that fluttering hand and patted it. “I’ll move in and manage everything for you.” Even Ma would approve of her taking care of the lady who’d taught Laurie to sing and play the piano.

“Would you, my dear?” Mrs. Foster’s eyes grew moist again. “I’d be so grateful.”

“I’ll be here, too.” Tolley gave Doc a doubtful look. “If you think it’s all right.”

“Most folks are pretty understanding when a need arises like Mrs. Foster’s. And, after all, another unattached lady and gentleman live here, and no one has considered it improper.”

“Good to hear.” Tolley grinned, his relief apparent.

Laurie considered what to do next. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen for supper.”

“I planned fried chicken, dear,” Mrs. Foster said. “Would you mind—Ow, oh, dear...” She gripped her injured arm with her free hand.

“Ma’am,” Doc said, “if you don’t object, I’m going to give you a dose of laudanum. A good rest will help you to heal.”

“Oh, my.” She gave him a doubtful look. “I suppose so.”

“Fried chicken coming up.” Laurie hoped her cheerful tone would encourage Mrs. Foster. She hadn’t cooked in two years, but it should be like riding a horse. Once in the saddle or, in this case, the kitchen, everything should come back to her. Or so she hoped.

Doc gave Mrs. Foster her laudanum and instructed Laurie on subsequent doses. Then the three of them left her to rest and went downstairs.

“I know you’ll manage things here, sis.” Doc patted Laurie on the shoulder. “I’ll send Maisie over to check on you later this evening.”

“I’ll be fine, although I do need to let Ma and Pa know where I’m staying. Maybe Georgia could pack more clothes for me and bring them to town.”

“When Adam Starling comes by to see if we need anything, I’ll send him out to the ranch to arrange it.” Toting his black satchel, he headed for the front door.

“I guess I’d better see about supper.” Laurie glanced through the large opening to the parlor, where she’d spent countless days taking piano lessons from Mrs. Foster. The old upright piano still sat in the corner, an embroidered linen runner protecting its mahogany top. The house appeared spotless. How did Mrs. Foster do all the cooking and laundry and also clean her boarders’ rooms? Laurie moved toward the kitchen door. “First I should clean up the stairs.”

“What should I do?” Tolley followed her.

“Peel some potatoes and—”

Before she could finish, the front door opened, and Mrs. Runyan walked in. The short, middle-aged woman set her parasol in the hall tree by the door and took a step toward the staircase. Seeing Laurie and Tolley, she stopped and gasped, her brown eyes wide with shock.

“What on earth is going on here?”

Behind her, a well-dressed gentleman entered the house. “Who are you people?” He removed his black bowler hat, narrowed his already beady eyes and glared at Laurie first, then at Tolley.

Tolley stood so close to her she could feel him bristling. The boy she’d grown up with had a quick temper, so the accusatory looks in the boarders’ eyes might easily set him off. She stepped in front of him.

“Mrs. Runyan, how nice to see you. And you must be Mr. Parsley.” She reached out to the short, slender gentleman. “How do you do? I’m Laurie Eberly. This is Bartholomew Northam.”

“Indeed!” The man moved back and stared at her hand like it was a rattlesnake. A growl rumbled in Tolley’s throat, and even Laurie battled with her temper. But an angry retort wouldn’t solve anything.

“Mrs. Foster had an accident. We are her lifelong friends, and we came to help.” She could hear the snippiness in her own voice at his suggestion of impropriety.

“Indeed?” Mrs. Runyan looked at her up and down, then did the same to Tolley. “Am I to understand you two unattached young people will both be residing here to assist her?”

Laurie bit her lip. Apparently the woman had no interest in learning what happened to Mrs. Foster.

“Yes, we’ll be residing here.” Tolley moved toward Mrs. Runyan, towering over her, and gave her a deceptively charming smile. “Like you and Mr. Parsley.”

Mrs. Runyan gasped. “Why, you impudent young man. I am a respectable widow and a gifted milliner. The wealthiest ladies in town patronize my shop. I am above reproach.”

After looking down his long, pointed nose at Mrs. Runyan, Mr. Parsley lifted his equally pointed chin. “I am an important businessman.” He sniffed with indignation. “People come from all over the San Luis Valley and beyond to engage my watchmaking services.”

“Well,” Laurie chirped. Apparently neither of these newcomers knew the Eberlys and Northams were the founding families of Esperanza. “Now we all know who we are. What are we going to do to help our dear Mrs. Foster? Mrs. Runyan, would you be so kind as to help me prepare supper? And Mr. Parsley, perhaps you could bring in some firewood?”

Although obviously not friends, the two boarders gasped together as if they were a Greek chorus.

“Help you? The very idea!” Mrs. Runyan placed a hand on her chest and stepped back. “I pay for my room and board in this establishment, and I expect my supper to be served promptly at seven.”

Barely able to comprehend the woman’s hauteur, Laurie looked to the man.

“As I have already informed you, I am a watchmaker. Do you have any idea how delicate my hands are? How I must protect them?” He clutched the appendages to his chest and huffed. “Carry wood? How insulting.” He marched up the front staircase, stopping halfway. “Friends of Mrs. Foster or not, rest assured I shall watch you two young people. One small inappropriate step, and I shall vacate the premises and move to the hotel.”

“Humph.” Mrs. Runyan began her own march up the stairs, but obviously couldn’t permit the watchmaker to outdo her with his arrogance. “Breakfast at eight a.m. Supper at seven sharp. My room is to be cleaned weekly, and I expect clean linens every week, or I shall find other accommodations. Is that understood, Miss Eberly?”

“Why, you—” Tolley lifted a scolding finger.

Again, Laurie stepped in front of him, this time elbowing him hard in the ribs. She covered his startled “oof” with “Why, of course, Mrs. Runyan. Breakfast at eight. And tonight, supper at seven sharp.” She barged through the swinging kitchen door, trying to quell her anger at the two selfish boarders. Did they have no compassion? Didn’t they know people out here in the West took care of one another?

“Why’d you do that?” Tolley followed her into the kitchen, one hand on his rib cage. “You have sharp elbows.”

She rolled her eyes as she spun around to face him. “Don’t you be giving me trouble, too.”

He held up both hands in a pose of surrender. “Hey, take it easy. This isn’t all on you, y’know. I’ll help with the chores.”

She exhaled in relief. “Thank you. That’s what I needed to hear. Now, while I start the chicken, would you please peel the potatoes and then clean up the back stairs?”

“Wait. What? I didn’t mean I’d do women’s work.”

The puzzlement on his handsome face would be humorous if he hadn’t just dashed Laurie’s hopes of getting real, actual help in making sure Mrs. Foster’s boarders didn’t move out. If they did, how would her dear friend support herself?

Couldn’t Tolley see how selfish he was being?

Chapter Three

“This chicken is burned to a crisp.” Mr. Parsley dropped his fork with a clatter. “These potatoes are barely cooked. I’m paying good money here, and I won’t stand for this kind of tasteless fare.”

Seated at one end of the dining room table, Tolley glanced at Laurie, who sat nearest the kitchen.

Strain showed on her face, but she forced a smile. “I’ll do better with breakfast.”

“I certainly hope so. This is terrible.” Despite her complaint, plump Mrs. Runyan continued eating. “If I have to purchase my breakfast at Williams’s Café, you can be sure I’ll deduct the cost from my rent.”

“Now, see here, Mr. Northam.” Mr. Parsley aimed his tiny, bespectacled eyes in Tolley’s direction. “Exactly what will you be doing tomorrow? What I mean is, will you be staying here with Miss Eberly, with your only chaperone in this house a sick old woman upstairs in her bedchamber?”

Tolley nibbled a bite of dry, grainy but edible meat he’d located beneath the burned crust and skin of a chicken breast. This man sure got under his craw, but as Laurie requested, he’d try not to get mad at the old coot. “Well...” He drawled out the word. “I thought I’d go over to the bank and see if they’ll rent me one of their empty Main Street buildings to set up my law office.”

“Law office?” The small man’s scoffing tone almost earned him a boxed ear. “Why, you couldn’t possibly be old enough to be a lawyer. Why would you expect people to trust an untrained boy with their legal matters?”

Tolley breathed in and out slowly. “I wouldn’t expect them to.” He also wouldn’t say another word in his own defense. His pastor friend in Boston urged him to let his work speak for itself. Instead, he mashed the hard potatoes into an almost edible consistency and poured gravy over the whole thing, the least he could do for Laurie, who’d obviously done her best to please these two boorish people. He might say something to her about improving her cooking, though not in the hearing of the older folks. He wouldn’t entirely discount marrying a gal who couldn’t cook very well, but she’d have to possess a powerful lot of other attributes to make up for it.

Why did he entertain such foolish thoughts? Probably because fatigue crept into his bones and he couldn’t think straight. Yesterday and today had been the longest two days of his life. He’d spent the night before last at the hotel in Walsenburg, ridden the train over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, found out his father nearly died of apoplexy, spent the night in the Esperanza Arms, moved to the boardinghouse and rescued poor Mrs. Foster when she broke her arm. Not to mention having to eat a poorly cooked supper. Things like that wore a man out. He’d sleep well tonight.

“If you folks will excuse me.” He rose from the table and set his napkin beside his plate. “I think I’ll hit the hay.”

“But—” For a moment, Laurie looked like a lost waif. Then she frowned. “Good night, Mr. Northam.”

What set her off? He was too tired to ask. Besides, Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley would probably find it scandalous if Tolley even walked into the kitchen when Laurie worked in there alone.

He’d brought in the wood for cooking supper, and tomorrow he’d carry the water upstairs so Laurie could do whatever cleaning Mrs. Foster had intended. Maybe in the morning he should feed the chickens, too, the least he could do for his childhood friend.

* * *

While washing the dishes, Laurie let a few tears splash into the dishpan, dissolving some of the bubbles Mrs. Foster’s lye soap had generated. What a disappointment Tolley turned out to be. He hadn’t even helped her clear the table. But then, growing up in a family with a housekeeper and a sister to help his mother in the kitchen, no wonder he regarded housework as women’s work. Still, understanding him didn’t make it any easier to shoulder all of the chores herself. After all, she and her sisters had learned to do both housework and ranch work.

A soft, cool evening breeze blew in through the window, bringing with it the merry chirp of a robin. Laurie brushed away her tears and smiled. How silly. Only yesterday, she’d resented having to fetch Tolley from the train depot. What made her think he’d changed? Still the same selfish boy she’d always known. And what of her own resentment over not being permitted to work around her parents’ house and ranch? Well, now her hands were more than full, and she thanked the Lord for it. If she must endure the eccentricities of Mrs. Foster’s self-centered boarders, so be it.

Supper had failed because she’d forgotten Ma’s lessons. As promised, breakfast would be better. She’d dried and put away the last dish when a cross “meow” sounded at the back door. She hurried to let Mrs. Foster’s black-and-white cat inside. He rubbed against her skirt and looked up at her. His next “meow” definitely had a question mark at the end of it.

“Mrs. Foster is upstairs, Pepper.” Fortunately, she’d left Mrs. Foster’s door slightly ajar so she could hear if her friend called for help. “I’m sure she’d welcome a visit from you.”

The cat scampered from the room as if he’d understood her words. Laurie laughed. She’d always enjoyed playing with the barn cats at her family’s ranch and had missed having them while in Denver. Chatting with Pepper would brighten the days ahead. He knew her and always answered when she spoke to him.

After checking the downstairs, Laurie headed upstairs to turn in for the night. With the clothes Georgia brought her earlier, she could stay as long as needed. Six bedrooms lined the two sides of the center hall, which opened onto a balcony that extended over the front porch. Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley had the two front rooms, Tolley and Mrs. Foster the middle two. She’d settled into the smallest bedroom at the corner of the house close to the back staircase and over the kitchen, with one empty room across from hers. Several times during the night, she tiptoed into Mrs. Foster’s bedchamber to tend to her needs but still managed to get a few hours of sleep.

In the morning, she slipped downstairs quietly and fixed breakfast without disturbing the boarders. As she’d promised, breakfast was a success. The bacon crisp, the biscuits light, the eggs scrambled to perfection. The coffee tasted slightly bitter, but the boarders didn’t seem to notice, for they put copious amounts of sugar and cream into their cups.

With a final warning to Laurie and Tolley concerning proper behavior, the two older boarders made their exits, traipsing off to their respective shops. Tolley lingered over a third cup of coffee and helped himself to another biscuit, slathering it with butter and raspberry jam.

Feeling a bit smug over breakfast, Laurie propped the swinging kitchen door open and noisily cleared the table. Maybe Tolley would get the hint and decide to help her after all. Or maybe he’d leave so she could shake out the tablecloth and see if she needed a fresh one for supper. A sigh escaped her at the thought of all the laundry involved in keeping boarders, especially grouchy ones. Mrs. Foster probably couldn’t afford the Chinese laundry.

“Breakfast tasted mighty fine, Laurie.” Tolley lounged back in his chair and called through the open door.

“Glad you liked it.” In her morning prayers, she asked the Lord for patience, so tests would surely come. The first? Mrs. Runyan’s comment about the biscuits needing sugar. Where did the woman come from to think sugar belonged in biscuits?

Carrying the last dish, except for Tolley’s plate and cup, into the kitchen, she gently nudged the door closed. Within five seconds, he opened it and stood in the doorway, resting his large frame against the doorjamb while continuing to eat his biscuit.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds ominous.” She pumped cold water into the dishpan in the sink, added soap flakes and ladled in hot water from the tank above the stove. “Say, weren’t you going to open your law office today?” She didn’t have time to listen to whatever he wanted to yammer about.

He grinned that grin of his, and a saucer slipped from her hands into the tin dishpan. She gasped softly. It wouldn’t do to break Mrs. Foster’s lovely china. To her relief, the saucer rested safely on the bottom of the metal pan.

“What this house needs is a bathroom.” Tolley popped the final bite of biscuit into his mouth and walked to her side, his arm brushing against her shoulder as he slid his plate into the dishpan on top of the saucer. “Upstairs, of course.”

A pleasant shiver streaked up Laurie’s arm. Her five feet four inches had never felt short, but now it did. At over six feet, Tolley stood tallest of the Northam boys...men. My, how her heart began to flutter. She had only one defense against such silly feminine feelings.

“So, are you going to wash the dishes?” She waved a shaky hand over the sink.

He snorted. “No, but I will feed the chickens.” He walked toward the back door. “Where’s the feed?”

The instant he moved away from her, she managed to relax. Why did she respond to his presence this way? This was her old friend, knows-it-all, obnoxious Tolley. “In a tin tub on the back porch. You’ll find a basket for the eggs, too.”

“I’ll be back shortly.” He stepped out and then poked his head back inside. “Be thinking about that bathroom.” The shoosh-ping of feed being scooped from the bin and into a tin pail came through the open door.

She watched out the window over the sink as he crossed the wide backyard, his long stride quickly eating up the distance. He unlatched the gate to the chicken pen, and the hens flocked to him. She could hear his baritone singsong call beckoning any strays from the henhouse to come and get it. He certainly hadn’t lost his ability to work with critters while in Boston.

Once he ducked his head and disappeared into the structure, she shook herself. She really must get over these foolish reactions. What did he say about a bathroom? Here? The hotel had bathrooms, but to her knowledge, none of the houses in Esperanza boasted such a luxury. Perhaps Nolan Means, the banker, and his new wife, Electra? Would such a thing even be possible?

Tolley’s thoughtfulness softened her annoyance over his refusing to help with housework. In coming up with such an unselfish idea for Mrs. Foster, maybe he’d changed more than Laurie thought.

* * *

Showing the pugnacious rooster who was boss with a harmless shove of his boot—twice—Tolley took his time feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs. No sense in hurrying back to the kitchen, where Laurie would try to lasso him into washing dishes by batting those big blue eyes at him. In their younger years, he’d never noticed how pretty all the Eberly girls were. Now he regarded Laurie as prettiest of the lot, maybe because of that sassy little dimple in her left cheek. Without too much trouble, she could probably get him to do just about anything. Except washing dishes or doing any other housework. He must stand firm about that.

A quick glance at the garden let him know it didn’t need watering, for dew still sparkled on some of the leafy plants. For a moment, Tolley stood in the middle of the grassy yard, breathing in both the familiar musty smell of chickens and the invigorating scent of country air. Mrs. Foster’s house lay close to the outskirts of town, but even in the center of Esperanza, the air was fresh and clean. Another reason to be thankful for being here. Sometimes the city smells of Boston had almost choked him.

Despite his exhaustion from the two previous days, he hadn’t slept well last night. He kept waking up from dreams of his father dying, of Mrs. Foster lying helpless at the bottom of the stairs, of Laurie looking like a lost waif with all the work before her. Yet when he awoke early this morning, the water situation bothered him most. When Laurie returned to Denver—a day he didn’t look forward to because he would miss her friendship—Mrs. Foster would have to take care of her boarders by herself. It didn’t make any sense for her to carry heavy buckets of water up that curved back staircase with its narrow treads.

The obvious solution? A bathroom. If his sister and brother-in-law could install bathrooms in their hotel three blocks from Mrs. Foster’s house, why couldn’t Tolley install one here? Boston had boasted water and sewage systems for almost forty years, so why shouldn’t Esperanza step into the modern world? Maybe not right away, but in the near future. For now, he’d have to figure out all the details for a single house. The more he thought about it, the more excited he got. Laurie hadn’t seemed interested, but he’d convince her. Now to figure out the details.

Back in the house, Laurie no longer worked in the kitchen, so he left the basket of eggs for her to tend. Although he hadn’t done that chore in a long time, he remembered how to tell which hens were brooding. He supposed Mrs. Foster sold her extra eggs at Mrs. Winsted’s mercantile. If he wasn’t mistaken, Mrs. Foster’s flock should increase by eight or ten in a week or two, which in turn would increase her income. Later today he’d muck out the chicken pen and pile the droppings in the wooden compost bin by the back fence.

He wanted to discuss the bathroom with Laurie, but maybe he should visit Nolan Means and see about renting that empty office space two doors down from the bank. The idea made him smile.

He’d wash his hands in the dishwater, but Laurie might come downstairs and think he’d changed his mind about washing the dishes. Instead, he returned to his room by the front staircase and used the cold water from his pitcher.

Yep, this house needed a source of water on the second floor. This morning, Laurie had carried pitchers of hot water upstairs for everyone. Tolley admired her willingness to work hard and give up her time to help a needy widow. Admired a lot about her. But for now he needed to concentrate on his own part in helping Mrs. Foster. He’d done a lot of building in his life, even helped dig a few wells. But piping water up to a second floor and digging a cesspool at the back of the property might raise unique challenges.

He must not fail at this. Maybe his brother-in-law could offer suggestions. Despite his wealth and position, Garrick had participated in every part of building his hotel. Tolley hadn’t gotten along with the Englishman when he came to Esperanza, but when he and Rosamond visited Tolley in Boston on their honeymoon, they’d put the past behind them.

Dressed for business in the suit he’d worn on the train, he emerged from his room just as Laurie came from Mrs. Foster’s chamber, her arms laden with laundry.

“I’m going to the mercantile. Do you need anything?”

Those big blue eyes blinked with obvious surprise, and something twanged in his heart like a cowboy plucking his guitar.

“Let me think.” She walked toward him, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully.

He’d never noticed how pretty and smooth and plump her lips were. Sure would be nice to—

“You could take the wash to Chen’s Laundry,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Mrs. Foster, though. I’ll pay for it.”

“Laundry again today?”

She nodded. “It never ends. Apparently she does towels and kitchen linens on Wednesday and the boarders’ clothes and sheets on Thursdays.”

“Whew. That’s a lot of work for a little old lady.” Tolley didn’t know where toting laundry fell on the list of women’s or men’s appropriate chores, but he’d do it this once until he found out. “I’ll take it.”

He waited by the front door while Laurie gathered the guests’ laundry and bedding. She dragged it down the stairs all bundled up in a sheet. When he slung it over his shoulder, the weight made him wince. What a heavy load for a little gal like Laurie. How much harder for old Mrs. Foster.

“See you later.”

Laurie held the door open, and he stepped outside as Doc Henshaw rode up from the south.

“Hey, sis, Tolley.” He dismounted and came to the front door carrying his black bag. “I want to look in on Mrs. Foster. How is she?”

“In pain.” Laurie’s delicate eyebrows bent into a worried frown. “And a little dizzy. I gave her another dose of laudanum in the middle of the night, as you said, but she wouldn’t take any this morning.”

“Probably best.” Doc eyed the laundry and clapped Tolley on his free shoulder. “Glad to see you’re helping out. Good for you.”

An odd and foolish sense of satisfaction swept through Tolley. He admired Doc, so his approval meant a great deal. If his father had ever once said anything like that—

As if he’d heard Tolley’s thoughts, Doc continued. “I was out at Four Stones just now. The Colonel is doing as well as can be expected. I’m optimistic about his recovery. Pray for him and for your mother. She won’t leave his side.”

“Thanks.” Tolley’s suddenly raspy voice held more emotion than he wanted to reveal. He cleared his throat. “See you later.” He lumbered off down the street, feeling the weight of his burden like the ragmen he’d seen carrying similar loads in Boston, where they scoured the streets for cast-off cloth to sell to the paper mills.

In spite of Doc’s approval, Tolley could only picture his father lying still on his bed, face immobile, a face that might never show approval for Tolley. A selfish thought, of course. Poor Mother sat beside her husband day and night. That was her way. He’d even admit to harboring some pity for his father. Yet if the Colonel recovered, Tolley wanted to have a long list of accomplishments to show him so he’d no longer be ashamed of his youngest son. Or, at the least, so he could no longer ignore Tolley’s very existence.

The residential areas of Esperanza had grown since Tolley left for Boston, with numerous new houses on every street. More businesses had come to town, such as the six shops lining the south side of the Esperanza Arms, his sister’s hotel. With a bank, a mercantile, many other small businesses, even an ice cream parlor, now the community would be able to boast about having its own lawyer.

After depositing the washing at Chen’s Laundry on the east side of town near the railroad tracks, Tolley strode up Main Street to the bank. Then he cooled his heels in the lobby for a good half hour, wondering whether the banker would refuse to see him. But why? Nolan Means owed him for helping to thwart a bank robbery four years ago. That should give him some favor in the man’s eyes.

Don’t be defensive. Trust the Lord to bring about His will for you. Remembering Reverend Harris’s wise words soothed Tolley’s growing uneasiness, and none too soon.

Nolan entered the lobby through a door beyond the teller’s cage and strode across the space, hand extended. “Good morning, Tolley. It’s good to see you back in town. Let’s go into my office.”

“Thanks.” After shaking his hand, Tolley followed him into the well-appointed room. The banker’s polished mahogany desk and chair didn’t show a speck of dust. Oil paintings adorned the walls, and several figurines graced the bookshelves and side table. Tolley could imagine his own office furnished this lavishly, as befitted either a banker or a lawyer. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Nolan chuckled. “Would I ever refuse to see a Northam?”

Tolley grimaced. Echoing Nolan’s question, would he ever earn respect without relying on his family name? Fortunately, Nolan was making his way around the massive mahogany desk and didn’t notice Tolley’s involuntary reaction to his rhetorical question.

“Have a seat.” Nolan sat and waved toward one of the brown leather chairs in front of his desk. After they’d exchanged general news—Nolan’s recent marriage, the Colonel’s tenuous health, Mrs. Foster’s accident—he asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I understand the bank owns that building on the other side of the sheriff’s office. I’d like to rent it.”

“Ah.” Nolan sat back and steepled his fingers. “So you’re a lawyer now.”

A statement, not a question. Tolley smiled, but not too broadly. “Yessir. I have my credentials from Harvard and a letter from Judge Thomas, the Colorado attorney general, welcoming me into Colorado’s judicial system.” In his own ears, he sounded a bit of a braggart. Or a boy reciting his lessons.

Nolan apparently thought no such thing. His eyebrows arched, and he gave Tolley a broad smile. “Congratulations. That’s quite an achievement for—”

“A former troublemaker?” Tolley wanted to bite his tongue. What had Reverend Harris said about not criticizing himself?

Nolan chuckled. “I was going to say for such a young man.”

“I turned twenty-two last month.” And no family there to celebrate with him. Uh-oh. Self-pity. Another habit the good reverend warned him against. “Twenty-one is the minimum age to practice law here in Colorado...legally, that is.” He grinned.

“A clever bit of wordplay, eh?” Nolan laughed aloud. Tolley could grow to like this former stuffed shirt. Maybe his recent marriage had mellowed him. “So you’d like to hang out your shingle next to the jail, not in your sister’s hotel?”

Now Tolley laughed. “It’s the only way I can show my independence.”

“I know all about that,” Nolan said. “It’s why I moved here from New York. Out here in the West, a man can make his own reputation.”

Tolley grunted his agreement. Yes, he could easily see becoming friends with this man.

Nolan dug into the center drawer of his desk and pulled out a key on a metal chain. “Here you go. Rent is five dollars a month.”

Tolley’s lawyer instincts sent out an alert. “No contract?”

“Absolutely a contract.” Nolan stood and stuck out his hand. “A handshake and a good man’s word is contract enough for me.”

“Thank you, Nolan.” As they shook hands, Tolley appreciated the respect this man showed him. He took the key and made his exit. Once he’d checked his new office, he couldn’t wait to get home and tell Laurie about this milestone in his professional career.

Home? Laurie? Where did that thought come from? Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse wasn’t his home. And he should want to tell his family first, not Laurie. Except, he couldn’t bear to go back to the ranch only to be sent away again. Anyway, his family didn’t seem interested in what he was doing. Laurie did.

Marriage hadn’t been in his immediate plans, but he kept thinking marriage to Laurie would be a real feather in his cap, an accomplishment the Colonel could neither disapprove of nor ignore when...if...he woke up.

* * *

Laurie thought her back might break from putting fresh sheets on the beds, toting water up the stairs, scrubbing the rooms and weeding and watering the garden. In all her years of visiting this house, why hadn’t she noticed how hard Mrs. Foster must work to keep body and soul together? Her widow’s pension from the War must be pitifully small.

Before noon, she started a pot of beans and fatback for supper. The two older boarders always ate dinner at the hotel, so she needn’t prepare a midday meal for them. Tolley would probably dine at Williams’s Café, but she still prepared enough soup to include him.

“Vegetable soup. My favorite.” Mrs. Foster grimaced in pain as Laurie helped her sit up. After Laurie placed the tray on her lap, Mrs. Foster tried to use the spoon with her shaking left hand but only managed to dribble the soup down the front of the apron Laurie had put on her. “Oh, dear.”

“It’s all right.” Laurie dabbed up the spill with a napkin and took the spoon. “Let me feed you.”

Tears formed in Mrs. Foster’s eyes. “What a mess I’ve made of things.”

“Now don’t start that again.” Laurie gave her a teasing smile. “I’m grateful Doc says you’ve only sprained your ankle. We’ll pray you’ll be back on your feet soon.”

“My broken arm won’t heal any time soon.” Mrs. Foster viewed her splinted right appendage. “I won’t be able to play the organ for a long time. Or even show my students proper piano technique.”

Laurie had already decided what to do about both situations. “You leave those to me. Your job right now is to get well.”

Mrs. Foster gave her a sad smile. “But, my dear, what about your position at the conservatory this coming fall?”

“My dear, haven’t you always told me to take no thought for tomorrow, as the Lord said?” Laurie struggled with her own fears about losing her teaching position, but nothing could be done about it. She must do right, which meant helping Mrs. Foster. “Besides, we have all summer for you to get well before I go back to Denver.” While her brother-in-law said the bones of older folks took longer to heal, Laurie would pray for the best, more for her mentor’s health and comfort than for anything to do with herself.

That afternoon, when she thought she’d earned a short rest, Seamus and Wes arrived from Four Stones Ranch with Tolley’s trunks, so she guided them upstairs to his room. Shortly after they left, she greeted Mrs. Foster’s six piano students. By the time she’d finished the last lesson, she needed to make the corn bread and cook the tender turnip greens she’d harvested from the garden.

She’d grown up on a ranch and known hard work all her life. But at home, many hands made light work. While she’d never abandon Mrs. Foster, this day wore her out. How had the dear lady managed all of this work, plus helping Laurie achieve her dream of becoming a conservatory teacher?

In spite of her encouraging words to Mrs. Foster, Laurie knew she must get back to Colorado’s capital city in the autumn. Otherwise her position would be given to someone else, and Laurie would be forced to say goodbye to her dreams forever. Which made her prayers all the more urgent. Perhaps even desperate.

Chapter Four

“A bathroom?” Mrs. Foster’s weathered face crinkled with puzzlement as she sat against her pillow. “Why, who ever heard of such a thing?”

“I think it’s just the thing.” Laurie sat in the bedside chair and patted the lady’s uninjured arm.

“Same here.” Tolley stood at the foot of the bed, hands in his pockets, feeling like a schoolboy who wanted to please his teacher.

“But I can’t afford—”

“We aren’t going to talk about money.” Tolley playfully wagged a scolding finger at her and grinned, but he meant it. Several years ago, his family had made the final payments on this house, the least they could do for the widow of Major Foster. If Foster hadn’t stepped in front of the Colonel at Gettysburg, taking a bullet himself, Tolley might never have been born. The old major suffered the rest of his life from the injury, finally passing away six years ago.

“Oh, dear, I don’t know.”

“We do.” Laurie’s blue eyes sparkled, and her smile brought out that dimple. My, she was pretty today. Every day, in fact. “All we need from you is your permission, and we’ll get started.”

Tolley could see she enjoyed this as much as he did. Having a partner would help greatly, especially this partner, especially since no one in his family cared for his company. But he mustn’t think about such things now. “What do you say, Mrs. Foster?”

The lady set her hand against her cheek and gave him a wobbly smile. “I won’t turn down such a generous gift, my boy.” Her eyes watered, and she dabbed at them with a linen handkerchief. “But where will you put it?” She peered toward the open door as if trying to envision the new room’s placement.

“We can convert the smallest bedroom, the one I’m in now,” Laurie said. “I can move to the empty one next to you.”

“Since the smaller room is at the back corner and over the kitchen, the plumbing will be easy.” Maybe not easy, but Tolley relished the challenge of installing the required pipe system.

“Oh, my.” Mrs. Foster fluttered her good hand over the quilt covering her lap. “Seems so complicated. Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tolley had prepared himself for questions. “I learned that Nolan Means installed the first bathroom in Esperanza even before Rosamond built the hotel. I asked him for advice, and he sent me to the workmen who dug the leaching field to handle the drainage. They’ll do that for us, and I’ll handle the rest, the interior part.”

“With my help.” Laurie gave him a challenging smile.

“Yep. Your help.” He wouldn’t argue in front of Mrs. Foster, but before they got started, he’d have to set some rules so Laurie would help, not get in his way.

“Then let’s get busy.” Laurie stood and bent to kiss Mrs. Foster’s cheek. “Would you like your book?”

“Why, yes. Thank you, dear.”

Laurie handed her the volume. “If you need anything, ring the bell.” She nodded toward the brass bell with a wooden handle sitting on the bedside table. The old schoolmaster who’d once boarded here had left it behind.

“It’s so loud.” Mrs. Foster clicked her tongue.

“Yes, ma’am. All the better to hear it.” Tolley laughed. “Laurie, let’s get busy.”

* * *

Laurie took the last of her dresses from the small wardrobe and moved them across the hall to the larger room. Later, Tolley and Adam Starling rearranged the furnishings for her.

“Are you sure this is where you want the vanity?” Tolley’s voice held an edge, though Laurie couldn’t imagine why.

“Well...” She tapped a finger against one cheek thoughtfully. “Another twelve inches or so to the left.”

He rolled his eyes, but Adam chuckled. “Makes sense to me.”

“Don’t encourage her.” Tolley scowled at Adam.

Adam shrugged. “It’s awful close to the stove. Might warp the wood.”

These two back rooms were heated by small woodstoves, unlike the four front bedrooms, each of which contained a fireplace built back-to-back with the adjacent room and aligned with those on the ground floor to share the house’s two chimneys.

“Thank you, Adam.” Laurie gave him her sweetest smile and noticed a hint of red beneath the tan of his cheeks. Tolley frowned at her. Did he think she was flirting with Adam? Even if she were, which she wasn’t, it was none of his business.

“All right, let’s move it.” Tolley gripped one side of the oak vanity. “Careful of the mirror.”

Once they placed it, Laurie gave them a firm nod. “Perfect. Thank you. Now, I’d better get busy with supper, or I won’t have it on the table at seven sharp.”

While Tolley chuckled, Adam questioned her with one raised eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” Tolley said, but added, “Grumpy boarders.”

“Ah.” Adam nodded his understanding.

With all of the people who employed him for odd jobs, Laurie had a feeling he knew plenty about grumpy people.

“Off you go.” She herded the two from her new room and hurried down the back stairs. She’d have to put her personal belongings away later.

Tonight’s stew simmered in the cast-iron Dutch oven. She retrieved the peeled potatoes and carrots from the icebox and added them to the meat. Next came the dinner rolls. Earlier, she’d made the dough, so she needed only to shape it into balls to rise again on the baking sheet. That done, she double-checked the cooling apple pie she’d made earlier from last year’s fruit. Mrs. Foster had harvested the green apples from the tree in her yard, then sliced and dried them so she could provide this dessert to her boarders all year long.

After her first disastrous attempt at cooking supper, Laurie quickly learned to manage the stove. She figured out how to adjust the flue and how to move the wood around to control the heat for both the oven and the stovetop. Although Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley remained hard to please, their complaints often seemed petty, perhaps even an attempt to outdo each other with displeasure. Laurie knew some cowboys here in the San Luis Valley who competed on anything from horse races to eating pie. At least Tolley offered compliments about the food, as did Mrs. Foster when Laurie carried her meal up before serving the others.

That evening, according to their plan, Tolley offered the blessing for supper and then introduced the subject of the bathroom to the other boarders. It took a moment for either one to grasp the idea. Then the comments began, as she and Tolley expected.

“Why, the very idea!” Mrs. Runyan served herself a large portion of pot roast.

“Humph! Never heard of such a thing.” Mr. Parsley ladled gravy over his potatoes.

“There goes modesty out the window.” Mrs. Runyan waved her fork in the air to emphasize her complaint. “Where I come from, bathing in a tub is considered indecent.”

“You’d better not make noise and disturb my rest.”

“You’d better not work on Sundays.”

As the meal progressed, they continued to make disparaging remarks, seeming to vie for the most indignant expression of outrage.

She could see Tolley clench his jaw as he struggled to control his temper, so she sent him a meaningful glare. He’d promised her he wouldn’t answer the others’ insults. They both needed to remember Mrs. Foster didn’t want to lose her boarders.

“Well!” Mrs. Runyan shot a cross look at Laurie and then Tolley. “At least you’ll be too busy to get into mischief.”

Mr. Parsley blinked and sputtered, clearly outdone. After a moment, he took his last bite of potato. “Miss Eberly, I do hope you have dessert for me. My room-and-board payment includes dessert after every supper.”

Laurie could hardly keep from rolling her eyes.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Parsley.” She stood and began to clear the empty plates. “It’ll only take a moment to whip the cream.”

She carried the stack of plates toward the kitchen and backed through the swinging door. But she couldn’t miss his comment. “Don’t take too long. You should have—”

She let the door swing closed, cutting off the rest of his complaint. Taking the cold bowl of cream from the icebox, she whipped it vigorously with Mrs. Foster’s new rotary eggbeater, taking out her annoyance on the hapless liquid. This wasn’t funny anymore. Pleasing these grumpy boarders seemed impossible. Only Tolley’s presence kept her calm.

* * *

“What do you think?” Early Saturday morning, Tolley stood inside the small room, Adam at his side as he considered the layout of the bathroom. “Any ideas about where to start?” He already had his own plans but wanted to hear the younger man’s opinions.

“Seems your water pipes will need to come up about here.” Adam pointed to a spot a few feet from the west window and close to the small cast-iron stove. “Drainage over there.” He indicated another spot close to the same wall. “And the vent pipe directly above it.”

“We should take out this west window and board up the hole. Otherwise, it’ll be pretty cold in here for bathing.”

“No, you don’t.” Laurie appeared in the doorway. “We need the ventilation.”

Tolley shook his head. “There’s your ventilation.” He pointed to the open north window, where frilly white curtains fluttered in the breeze. “That’ll be enough. In the winter, the cross breeze would freeze the water in the fixtures.”

“Cross ventilation works better to keep mildew from forming.”

Tolley looked at Adam for support.

Adam shrugged. “Don’t suppose the window needs to be boarded up. That woodstove should keep it warm enough.”

Laurie gave Tolley a triumphant smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fixing breakfast?” His stomach had growled for a good half hour.

“It’s in the oven and will be ready at eight o’clock sharp.” Another triumphant smile.

Something kicked up inside of Tolley’s chest. She looked awful cute when she smiled that way, with that sassy dimple making a rare appearance. If she kept on looking at him, he might just give her whatever she wanted. Except he’d built a house and a high school and knew far more than she did about such things. He pulled out his pocket watch.

“My, my, look at the time.” He showed her the timepiece, which read seven fifty-seven. “This is set to railroad time.”

“Oh! I thought—” She hurried from the room.

Adam appeared to hide a chuckle, then sobered. “Mr. Northam, do you mind if I make a suggestion?”

“You have some advice for dealing with females?”

Now Adam laughed out loud. “No, sir. I don’t know nothing...anything...about females. But I did help out a bit over at the hotel when they were putting in the washrooms.”

“Ah, very good.” Tolley looked at the youth with a new appreciation. “What’s your suggestion?”

“First, you gotta make sure the structure can bear the weight of a water-filled tub.” He waved a hand over the bare floor. “We should probably pull up a board or two and check the strength of the wood underneath.”

Tolley nodded. The idea made sense. “Shall we get started?”

“I wish I could, sir.” Adam shook his head. “This being Saturday, lots of folks come into town, so Mr. Russell needs me over at the livery stable.” He cast a worried look at Tolley. “I can help on Monday...unless you want to find someone else to work for you today?”

Tolley clapped him on the shoulder. “Nope. I’ll need your experience, so I can wait until Monday.”

“Thank you, sir.” The relief on Adam’s face touched something deep inside of Tolley. Maybe this project wasn’t only about helping Mrs. Foster.

Later, as Tolley sat at the desk in his room sketching possible layouts for the bathroom fixtures, a knock sounded on his door.

“Tolley, Rosamond and Garrick came to see you,” Laurie called. “They’re downstairs.”

Rosamond! His family hadn’t entirely deserted him. “I’ll be right down.”

He quickly donned his suit jacket, mainly to look good for his always well-dressed English brother-in-law, and started for the door. On a whim, he grabbed the sketches. Maybe Garrick could give him some advice about adapting the room.

Halfway down the stairs, another thought struck him. Had they come with news of the Colonel? Had his father died?

“Tolley!” Rosamond rushed into his arms and held him fast.

As he enfolded her in a firm embrace, his sketches fluttered to the floor.

Over her shoulder Garrick wore an unreadable expression. But then, he was English, so most of his expressions were unreadable.

Tolley squeezed his sister before moving her back to arm’s length. “I-it’s good to see you, sis. What brings you here?” He stilled his racing heart, preparing for bad news.

“Tolley, we’ve all been so taken up with Father’s illness.” She wiped away tears. “He’s doing as well as can be expected. But this morning as we were getting ready to move back to the hotel, I realized how we’d barely acknowledged your homecoming.” She hugged him again. “I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you terribly. We all have, especially Mother. She sends her love.”

He patted her back and swallowed the unexpected riot of emotions her words caused. So the Colonel still lived, thank the Lord. And Mother hadn’t entirely forgotten Tolley. “Thanks. Did the family get word about Mrs. Foster’s fall?” He needed to move to a safer topic so he wouldn’t break down in front of Garrick. Or Laurie, who stood nearby. He didn’t mind her being here, but a man had his pride when it came to emotional matters, especially in front of other people.

“Yes, Doc told us.” Rosamond moved to Garrick’s side. “We’d like to see her, if she’s well enough.”

Doubt crowded out his growing joy. They’d come to visit Mrs. Foster, not him.

“I’ll go check.” Laurie skipped up the stairs, her light footfalls as dainty as any Boston belle’s.

At least Tolley could count on her friendship, even if he did have to put up with her prickliness.

“I say, old man.” Garrick clapped him on the shoulder. “What’ve you done with yourself these past few days?” He picked up the sketches and gave them a cursory glance before handing them to Tolley. “Building something?”

“Yes. An upstairs bathroom.” As much as he wanted to feign indifference, Tolley couldn’t keep the eagerness from his voice.

“Absolutely brilliant.” Garrick inspected the pages.

Rosamond moved to Tolley’s other side and did the same. “How exciting. Tell us all about it.”

“Laurie and I—” he paused, savoring for a moment the partnership they’d formed to take care of the elderly lady “—we think it’s ridiculous for our Mrs. Foster to carry water upstairs any longer, so we decided to turn the smallest bedroom into a bathroom.”

“Oh, Tolley.” Rosamond’s eyes filled with tears, and she gripped his arm and gazed up at him with sisterly admiration that brought a homesick ache to his heart. “How good of you.”

He gulped. “I have to do something to fill my time before my law practice picks up.”

“Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” Garrick continued to study the drawings. “Where did you plan to get the fixtures?”

“Mrs. Winsted’s Montgomery Ward catalogue has tubs and sinks for sale. Not sure about the commode.”

Rosamond grinned at Garrick, and he nodded.

“Well, old boy, you don’t want to wait for a delivery from Chicago. We have the items you need in our hotel storeroom.”

“Do you mean it?” Tolley laughed in surprise. “Why, we can have the whole thing installed within weeks.”

“That’s very generous.” Smiling, Laurie descended the staircase. “I know Mrs. Foster will be pleased. By the way, she’s waiting for you both to visit.”

“Very good.” Rosamond’s voice held a hint of her husband’s English accent. “Let’s go.”

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