Read Online Waiting for Spring by Amanda Cabot - Free Book Online

agree that raising cattle is anything but quiet, and rustlers keep life from being boring.” His eyes darkened until they resembled Gwen’s gown, a clear indication that he cared deeply. “As much as we try to stop it, rustling is still big business in Wyoming. It’s bad enough when they steal mavericks, but when they take full-grown steers and alter the brands, well . . . it sets my blood to boil.”
    Charlotte knew she would be angry if someone had stolen bolts of fabric from the store. How much worse must it be when a living thing was taken? As Mr. Landry’s lips tightened, Charlotte knew she needed to do something to take his mind off the rustling. “You mentioned mavericks. What are they?”
    â€œMotherless calves.” To Charlotte’s relief, he seemed to relax as he explained, “During the spring roundup, we separate the cows by their brand. The calves haven’t been weaned, so they stay close to their mamas. That’s how we know whose cattle they are. Some of the youngsters aren’t attached to a cow, most times because their mothers died. Those are the mavericks.”
    â€œSo, who do they belong to?”
    A smile lit his face. “All of us. They’re sold, and the money goes to the stock growers’ association.”
    Charlotte’s smile mirrored his. “I probably shouldn’t laugh, but I still find the term ‘stock grower’ unusual. I keep imagining something planted in the ground.”
    He shrugged. “I prefer stock grower to cattle baron. That sounds so pretentious.” And Mr. Landry did not appear to be a pretentious man.
    He pulled his watch from his pocket. “We should probably return to our seats, but before we go, I hope you’ll satisfy my curiosity. You know why I came to Cheyenne, but I’d like to know what brought you to Wyoming.”
    â€œMy husband.” Though few of the guests had started to move toward the staircase, from the corner of her eye Charlotte saw Miriam approaching with Mr. Eberhardt. Relief flowed through her at the realization that she would not have to say anything more and she wouldn’t have to lie.
    â€œIs it time already?” Mr. Duncan frowned as he asked the question. When Mr. Landry nodded, the older man murmured something that made Gwen flush. Charlotte’s friend was not given to blushes, but this was at least twice in less than fifteen minutes that her cheeks had been pink.
    â€œMay I escort you and Mrs. Amos to your seats?” Mr. Duncan’s words were polite. His suggestion was chivalrous. There was no cause for alarm, and yet Charlotte felt ill at ease.
    â€œThank you, but your friends are waiting for you.” She gestured toward the trio to her left. Miriam had returned and had placed her hand on Mr. Landry’s arm, while Mr. Eberhardt stood only a few inches away, his expression as solemn as if he were attending a funeral. Charlotte gave themall a smile as she linked her arm with Gwen’s. “Good evening, Miss Taggert, gentlemen.” No matter how pleasant it had been talking to Barrett Landry, Charlotte’s place was in the back row with Gwen.
    â€œOh, Charlotte, I never thought it would be so wonderful,” Gwen said as they ascended the stairway. Mr. Landry and his party had remained on the ground floor, chatting with Miriam’s parents while other theatergoers began to crowd the staircase, their exuberant conversation almost drowning out Gwen’s words.
    â€œTruly, I feel like Cinderella. I’ve met my Prince Charming.”
    Though Charlotte raised an eyebrow, she tried to keep her voice even, not wanting to spoil Gwen’s evening. “Mr. Duncan?”
    â€œYes. And please don’t tell me he’s too old for me. You know I’m over thirty.”
    Warren Duncan’s age was not what concerned Charlotte. “I wasn’t going to say anything about his age. I just wondered what you knew