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Authors: Louise M. Gouge
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chattering magpies for a whole day.
* * *
Susanna had learned in finishing school that a lady didn’t talk across the table but rather engaged in conversation with those seated beside her. In this case, it wasn’t too difficult. Rand was almost as funny as Nate, and he could spin a yarn nearly as well as her own brother back home. But the quieter Tolley touched her heart. His sad brown eyes made her think of a puppy pleading for approval, and when she turned her attention to him, he all but jumped around in happy little circles. A glance across the table from time to time gave her a new perspective on Nate. Those girls were making him dizzy with their back-and-forth chatter, but he took it in good spirits, another admirable quality.
She was surprised that Colonel Northam said very little beyond blessing the food and telling poor Nate that he had to take the girls out to pick flowers. If she wasn’t so worried about Daddy, she would hint that she’d like to go with them, as she hadn’t ridden a horse since they left Marietta four months ago. The girls had been quick to welcome her into their friendship, and she could almost see herself feeling at home here for as long as she had to stay in Colorado.
A glance at the Colonel canceled those thoughts. He was glowering at her as if she were some sort of bug that needed to be squashed. Her own uncharitable thoughts back toward him crowded out all of her good feelings. She and Daddy would never be welcomed even as temporary guests in this community. This Yankee colonel had not ceased to make that very clear to her.
Oh, she couldn’t wait for Daddy to get back on his feet so she could take him home where they belonged.
Chapter Six
“Y ou go on, daughter.” Daddy’s short, shallow breaths seemed an attempt to mask his pain. As always, he was putting on a brave face for her. “After our long journey, you need to have a little fun with other young people.”
Seated on the edge of his bed, Susanna raked her fingers through his brown hair to comb it back from his face. In the shadow of the lamplight, she could see he was long overdue for both a haircut and beard trimming. If she left him looking this scruffy and the Colonel saw him, their unwilling host would have all the more reason to despise him, as if his condition was his own fault. Even on the trail, he’d always kept himself well-groomed, quite a feat for a man who all his life had a body servant to tend him.
“Tell you what. I’ll clean you up a bit, and if they haven’t left, I’ll see if they still want me to go with them.” Last night after supper as they were preparing for bed, Rosamond and Maisie had insisted that she accompany them to the foothills. They planned to leave at dawn, and soon the sun would rise over the distant Sangre de Cristos. The Colonel’s hostility notwithstanding, she longed to accompany them. Yet she was worried sick that something would happen to Daddy in her absence.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his response. “Señor Anders?” A feminine voice with a Mexican accent identified the speaker as Angela, the Northams’ cook and housekeeper, whom Susanna had met the night before.
Susanna stared at Daddy. “Isn’t it a bit early for breakfast?”
An odd little grin flitted across his lips, and he shrugged. “Get the door, daughter.”
Susanna hurried to obey, admitting the servant to the room. Angela brought in a tray holding a pitcher of steaming water and some masculine grooming supplies. Over her arms, she carried several towels and what appeared to be brown trousers and a white shirt. The sturdy, dark-eyed woman, perhaps forty years old, glanced briefly at Susanna, doubt filling her expression.
“Is this time good?” Her question was directed at both of them.
“Well, I—”
“Of course.” Daddy coughed and grabbed his ribs. When he recovered, he spoke with effort. “You go on, Susanna. Angela came up last night and offered to help me. She said Mrs.
* * *
Susanna had learned in finishing school that a lady didn’t talk across the table but rather engaged in conversation with those seated beside her. In this case, it wasn’t too difficult. Rand was almost as funny as Nate, and he could spin a yarn nearly as well as her own brother back home. But the quieter Tolley touched her heart. His sad brown eyes made her think of a puppy pleading for approval, and when she turned her attention to him, he all but jumped around in happy little circles. A glance across the table from time to time gave her a new perspective on Nate. Those girls were making him dizzy with their back-and-forth chatter, but he took it in good spirits, another admirable quality.
She was surprised that Colonel Northam said very little beyond blessing the food and telling poor Nate that he had to take the girls out to pick flowers. If she wasn’t so worried about Daddy, she would hint that she’d like to go with them, as she hadn’t ridden a horse since they left Marietta four months ago. The girls had been quick to welcome her into their friendship, and she could almost see herself feeling at home here for as long as she had to stay in Colorado.
A glance at the Colonel canceled those thoughts. He was glowering at her as if she were some sort of bug that needed to be squashed. Her own uncharitable thoughts back toward him crowded out all of her good feelings. She and Daddy would never be welcomed even as temporary guests in this community. This Yankee colonel had not ceased to make that very clear to her.
Oh, she couldn’t wait for Daddy to get back on his feet so she could take him home where they belonged.
Chapter Six
“Y ou go on, daughter.” Daddy’s short, shallow breaths seemed an attempt to mask his pain. As always, he was putting on a brave face for her. “After our long journey, you need to have a little fun with other young people.”
Seated on the edge of his bed, Susanna raked her fingers through his brown hair to comb it back from his face. In the shadow of the lamplight, she could see he was long overdue for both a haircut and beard trimming. If she left him looking this scruffy and the Colonel saw him, their unwilling host would have all the more reason to despise him, as if his condition was his own fault. Even on the trail, he’d always kept himself well-groomed, quite a feat for a man who all his life had a body servant to tend him.
“Tell you what. I’ll clean you up a bit, and if they haven’t left, I’ll see if they still want me to go with them.” Last night after supper as they were preparing for bed, Rosamond and Maisie had insisted that she accompany them to the foothills. They planned to leave at dawn, and soon the sun would rise over the distant Sangre de Cristos. The Colonel’s hostility notwithstanding, she longed to accompany them. Yet she was worried sick that something would happen to Daddy in her absence.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his response. “Señor Anders?” A feminine voice with a Mexican accent identified the speaker as Angela, the Northams’ cook and housekeeper, whom Susanna had met the night before.
Susanna stared at Daddy. “Isn’t it a bit early for breakfast?”
An odd little grin flitted across his lips, and he shrugged. “Get the door, daughter.”
Susanna hurried to obey, admitting the servant to the room. Angela brought in a tray holding a pitcher of steaming water and some masculine grooming supplies. Over her arms, she carried several towels and what appeared to be brown trousers and a white shirt. The sturdy, dark-eyed woman, perhaps forty years old, glanced briefly at Susanna, doubt filling her expression.
“Is this time good?” Her question was directed at both of them.
“Well, I—”
“Of course.” Daddy coughed and grabbed his ribs. When he recovered, he spoke with effort. “You go on, Susanna. Angela came up last night and offered to help me. She said Mrs.
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