Читать книгу Cowgirl for Keeps - Louise M. Gouge - Страница 12
ОглавлениеGarrick, Percy and Richards perched on the fence of the labyrinthine corral to watch the Northam brothers work. Cattle branding was a messy, noisy business, but no more so than sheep shearing, which Garrick had observed every spring at Uncle’s manor. As heir presumptive, he’d spent his first eighteen years learning about his future responsibilities. Even after six years of knowing he wouldn’t inherit, he couldn’t put aside the habit of recording new knowledge, new experiences that might be helpful in the future. Of course, he’d never need to know about cattle branding. He’d never even dressed the deer or grouse he’d shot in Uncle’s park. The gamekeepers always did the dirty work.
Yet somehow, in spite of himself, he was impressed by the Northams’ personal involvement in the ranch work. They employed countless cowboys, yet stayed in the thick of the branding process. Garrick never touched a sheep, although his governess let him feel the freshly sheared wool. He suspected she enjoyed the waxy lanolin balm present in the wool.
“Hey, gents.” In the center of the corral, Nate raised a branding iron in the air. “Want to try it?”
“No, thank you.” Garrick couldn’t think of inflicting pain upon those young calves. At least sheep shearing was painless to the animals, even welcomed, for it removed their heavy winter coats.
“Yes.” Percy jumped into the corral. “I’d be delighted.”
“Sir?” Seated on the fence beside Garrick, Richards called out. “May I be so bold...?”
“Certainly.” Percy beckoned to him. “Come along.”
Richards hopped down and strode alongside Percy with a spring in his step, as though he were on his way to a picnic.
Garrick shook his head. Richards held one of the highest ranks possible for a servant. Why ever would he want to get his hands, not to mention his clothes, soiled with such menial work with dirty animals?
“Don’t you want to play?” Rosamond nimbly climbed the fence and sat beside Garrick. Pulling a sandwich from her pocket, she began to eat.
In spite of her boyish attire, his midsection did its usual dance. He really mustn’t allow himself to react this way. But how did one stop the involuntary feelings? How even to relate to her? He knew so little about young ladies. The aristocratic girls he’d known in his youth turned a cold shoulder to him once his newborn cousin replaced him as Uncle’s heir.
“Good morning to you, too, Rosamond.”
She laughed, a musical sound that reminded him of her merry song the day before. “Are you enjoying the show?” She tilted her head toward the action in the corral.
“That? Well, I must say I feel a bit sorry for those calves.”
If the rolling of her eyes was any indication, he’d said the wrong thing...again.
“If we didn’t brand them, they could be stolen and someone else could claim them.”
“Stolen? From right here on your father’s ranch?”
Another rolling of the eyes, this time accompanied by a shake of her head, as though he were a hopeless numbskull. “The ranch doesn’t grow enough hay to feed all the cattle year round, so the hands drive the herd up into the hills for summer grazing. Sometimes our cattle mingle with other herds, so the brands keep everybody honest.”
“Ah, I see.”
She polished off the sandwich in a rather dainty manner, considering the setting and her hoydenish garb. “You’ll excuse me?” She started to jump down.
“What? You?” Garrick felt an entirely different kick in his midsection—fear. For her. The actual branding wasn’t the hard part of this operation. The unwilling calves struggled violently to avoid their fate. What if she were injured?
“Yes, me.” She stayed on the fence. “These are my cattle and, like my brothers, I always participate in the branding.”
“Don’t you mean they’re your father’s cattle?” He’d say anything, no matter how annoying, to keep her from danger.
She huffed out a sigh. “Yes, my father’s, my mother’s, Nate’s, Rand’s, Tolley’s and mine. We’re all owners of the Four Stones Ranch.”
“Indeed.” Garrick eyed her doubtfully. “Are you saying your oldest brother won’t inherit everything?” Even for Americans, this idea was truly novel.
She gave him an indulgent smile. “That’s what I’m saying. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He still couldn’t let her go. “So the four stones in the ranch’s name are—”
“My brothers and I.”
Before he could climb down to assist her, she jumped to the ground and seemed no worse for the experience.
“Come on, Garrick.” She beckoned with a charming wave of her hand, and her invitation held a challenge he couldn’t refuse.
“Very well.” He jumped down beside her, and pain shot through his feet. Perhaps he should purchase a pair of those cowboy boots. If nothing else, his experiences on this ranch were sure to give him some much-needed exercise.
* * *
The way Garrick and Percy plunged into the branding impressed Rosamond. As with the train robbers, they proved themselves courageous in a new and dangerous situation. After an hour or so, however, she couldn’t understand why her brothers hadn’t pulled a prank on their guests. Then it happened. While helping Tolley hog-tie a reluctant calf, Garrick fell into a pile of cow droppings. Even though he laughed, his disgust was obvious when he excused himself and headed back toward the house. Rosamond felt a little sorry for him, but she felt sorrier for Roberts, who must restore those filthy trousers and shirt. She’d cleaned up similar messes all her life. Obviously, Garrick hadn’t.
However, she discovered herself a bit rusty at branding. The indolent years in Boston and her need to get used to the altitude took their toll. When she tried to pick up the heavy iron, she needed Tolley’s help so she wouldn’t cause her calf extra pain if she misapplied the white-hot brand. Winded far too soon, she begged off before the task was finished. Her ever-indulgent brothers praised her efforts and sent her back to the house.
“I say.” Percy fell in beside her. “What an exhilarating experience.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She couldn’t say the same about Garrick, so best not to mention him. “Richards seems to be enjoying himself, too.”
“Odd, that.” Percy laughed, clearly not troubled by his valet’s request to continue working with the hands. “By the by, are we still going to the Eberly ranch today?”
“Yes. After dinner.” She hoped no one would ask why she must see Beryl when they’d just spent almost two years together at school, not to mention the long trip home. “We’ll go as soon as we clean up. Oh. Do you need your valet?”
Percy, who always seemed cheerful, laughed again. “Not at all. Of course, I want to present myself well, but I’ll make quick work of it.” He leaned close as they walked across the barnyard, as though he thought someone else might hear him. “Unlike my cousin, I didn’t always have servants, so I learned to take care of myself.”
Rosamond laughed with him. “Oh, you poor thing.” So she’d been right about Garrick. That explained much about his behavior. She thanked the Lord she’d been taught self-sufficiency like her brothers. At least in most ways. Even out here, she must mind the proprieties that protected her reputation, even if it meant she must include Garrick in this afternoon’s jaunt.
“Do you suppose Garrick would like to go along?”
Percy gave her a sly look. “You enjoy his company?”
“No. I mean...oh, dear.” She huffed out a sigh. “Although it’s just a short ride, we’ll need a chaperone. People are particular about such things out here.”
He stopped, and his blond eyebrows shot up. “Oh, my. I wouldn’t think of doing it any other way.”
With that settled, Rosamond sent him on to the house while she went to the barn to see which horses were available. Pete, one of the older cowboys who no longer took part in branding, hurried over to greet her. After they’d exchanged pleasantries, he volunteered to saddle three horses for her by one o’clock.
Maybe she should have asked Pete to go with her. Now she’d committed herself to an afternoon with Garrick. Oddly, the thought didn’t depress her as much as it should have.
* * *
“Very good work, Roberts.” Garrick studied his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. “You’ve managed wonders. A cold but cleansing bath and perfectly pressed clothes.” In the mirror, he checked the back of his fresh ensemble as he tried to dismiss the incident from his mind. At Eton, he’d never have lived down such a humiliating ordeal, even years later. One hapless chap whose family didn’t come up to snuff in Society’s view still received the scorn of former classmates over a similar event. When Garrick lost his position as Uncle’s heir, he’d fallen into that same category in some people’s opinion.
He knew Tolley had deliberately tripped him, but accusations would be fruitless. All the Northam brothers found the accident amusing. Perhaps he’d passed some sort of cowboy initiation when he stifled his chagrin and laughed with them. He prayed no more such incidents occurred. After checking his hair in the mirror, he sniffed his hands for the second time. “I can’t detect a single bit of cow odor. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Roberts maintained his usual blank facade, although Garrick had seen him smile at the attractive young Mexican cook. If romance was budding, Garrick must nip it lest Roberts decide to stay in Colorado. Nor would Rita fit in as a servant in England, not even in the most liberal households. More important, Garrick couldn’t afford to find a new valet. Roberts, being young and newly elevated to his position last year, settled for lower wages than a more experienced gentleman’s gentleman demanded. Further, Garrick had trained him to anticipate his needs. The loss would be dreadful.
Percy knocked as he entered. “Ready to go?”
“Your riding gloves, sir.” Roberts handed Garrick the tan leather accessory.
“Thank you.” Garrick was tempted to tell his man to spend the afternoon washing his trousers and shirt, but that would be an insult. Roberts knew what his duties were. Garrick could only hope the washing area was nowhere near the kitchen and pretty little Rita.
After searching for their horses at the front of the house, he and Percy found Rosamond by the back entrance with three saddled beasts. Why did they use the servants’ entrance when the house’s facade was quite lovely, albeit quaint? These Americans. At least the family employed a groom to see to the horses. Despite the saddle’s oddly shaped pommel, he soon found his seat and easily kept up with Rosamond as they rode across fields, paths and gullies.
They slowed to a walk and turned down a lane to a ranch similar to Four Stones, with an attractive two-story white house and numerous outbuildings, including a giant red barn.
“I say, Rosamond.” Percy rode beside her. “Good idea to ride over to your neighbors’ instead of walking. All those little streams and fences would be rather a challenge to cross on foot.”
She laughed in her musical way, a sound Garrick was becoming entirely too fond of. “I’m so glad you’re pleased, Percy.”
Garrick felt a pinch of jealousy, although he knew Percy’s interest lay elsewhere. Why couldn’t he and Rosamond get along as easily? He couldn’t worry about that today. With Percy so keen on getting acquainted with Beryl, not to mention his silly vow to marry her before the end of summer, Garrick would have more than enough to do keeping his impulsive cousin from ruining his life. In England, with his large inheritance from his father’s trade, Percy could marry any heiress, even an aristocrat, and begin to move into the higher levels of Society. Why would he waste his life on a nervous American cowgirl? Yet Percy was in no hurry to meet his future and had insisted upon coming with Garrick to America simply for a lark.
* * *
Rosamond rode to the back door and dismounted, tying her mare to the hitching rail. “I smell cinnamon. Mabel must be baking.”
The men followed her up the back steps.
“You don’t mean to walk right in, do you?” Garrick frowned.
She returned his look but quickly forced a smile. She must remember English customs were different. Even in Boston, she’d never entered a friend’s house without knocking.
“Yes, I do. Mabel would be bothered if I knocked. She’d have to stop her work to answer.” She opened the door and entered.
The two men followed hesitantly, but Rosamond hurried through the back hallway and into the large but cozy kitchen. “Hey, Mabel.”
Plump, red-haired Mabel Eberly dropped her spoon into the stewpot and turned, her merry face beaming. “Rosamond, honey, come on in.” She embraced her warmly and then held her at arm’s length. “My, you’re even more beautiful than ever.” She glanced at the Englishmen. “I know who these fine gentlemen are. Howdy, boys. Beryl told us how brave you were when those outlaws tried to rob the train. And George says you’ve come out here to build that hotel.” She beckoned to them. “Come on in. Have a seat.” She waved a hand toward the kitchen table. “Would you like some cinnamon rolls and coffee?”
Rosamond prayed they wouldn’t rebuff Mabel’s offer. While Garrick stood back, his handsome face crinkled in confusion or maybe consternation, Percy stepped over to Mabel.
“Rosamond, would you please present me to this charming lady?”
His formality tickled Rosamond, but she did the honors in all seriousness.
“Mabel, this is Percy Morrow. Percy, remember, first names out here.”
Percy kissed her hand, and Mabel’s sweet face turned even redder than usual. “Oh, go on, now.”
Rosamond summoned Garrick with a whip of her hand and a glare Mabel couldn’t see. “This is Garrick Wakefield.”
He must have realized the importance of compliance, because he followed Percy’s example.
“What fine manners. Now sit down.” Mabel ushered them to the table and served coffee and a plateful of fresh cinnamon buns. Her merry manner seemed to set the men at ease, for they didn’t hesitate to eat.
Seated by the door, Rosamond heard a soft tst. While Mabel plied the men with rolls in exchange for their life stories, Beryl peeked in and beckoned to Rosamond. In the hallway, Beryl embraced her fiercely.
“Rosamond, save me. Get me away from here.”
“What’s wrong?” Rosamond knew the answer. She’d happily donned her comfortable ranch clothes, but Beryl wore one of her Boston dresses. Underneath, Rosamond felt her tightly laced corset.
“It’s my sisters,” Beryl whispered anxiously and glanced toward the back door as if fearing they’d enter. “They expected me to jump right into work.” She bit her lip and stared at her hands. “I’m willing to do my share, but I can’t bear to get all freckled and rough-skinned again.” A tear slid down her ivory cheek. “I’m terrible, aren’t I?”
“Nonsense.” Rosamond hugged her. “You’ll get used to home life again.” She didn’t believe that herself. Beryl’s fears ran deeper than how her complexion looked. Rosamond thought of one way to help her. “Come meet those Englishmen.”
Beryl’s blue eyes widened. “Not like this.” She swiped away tears.
“Go freshen up.” Rosamond forced a cheerful laugh. “Your ma is feeding them her cinnamon rolls, but they can only eat so much.” She smirked. “The blond gentleman wants to meet you.”
Beryl’s eyes rounded in wonder. “Truly?”
“Truly. Now hurry.”
While her friend complied, Rosamond returned to the kitchen. The two men stood, as they had last evening. Their refined manners pleased her. Not every man understood the importance of such a gallant gesture.
“Beryl wasn’t expecting company.” She sat in the chair Garrick held for her, another chivalrous move on his part. Her opinion of him rose a little. “She’ll join us soon.”
“Capital.” Percy’s blue eyes brightened just as Beryl’s had.
Garrick, however, frowned as he reclaimed his chair. Rosamond’s opinion of him plummeted. How could he dislike sweet Beryl when he didn’t even know her?
“So, you boys are planning to build that hotel.” Mabel poured coffee for Rosamond.
“Not I, madam.” Percy chuckled. “I accompanied Garrick so I could see the famous—or should I say, infamous—American West.” He leaned toward Mabel with a playful smirk. “I believe the train robbery was staged entirely for our amusement, what?”
Mabel slapped his shoulder and howled with laughter. “You’ll do fine out here, boy. You’ll do fine.”
He grinned despite his coffee sloshing onto the tablecloth. Again, Garrick’s frown revealed an opposite reaction, disapproval of the kind lady who was showing him such generous hospitality. Before Rosamond could frown back at him, Beryl entered.
The men stood, and Percy stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “Miss Eberly, I presume?”
Beryl received him with the grace she’d learned at the academy. “How do you do, sir? You must forgive me for not knowing your name. We should have introduced ourselves after the train robbery, but—” Confusion clouded her face, and Rosamond gasped softly. Her friend almost revealed her hysteria to her mother.
“Ah, but with no one to properly introduce us...” Percy touched her elbow and drew her to the table as if he were the host. “Please permit the informality. I am Percy Morrow, and this is my cousin, Garrick Wakefield.”
Garrick gave a sober bow while Percy continued to fuss over Beryl. “Your mother’s cinnamon rolls are delicious beyond description. Do have one.”
Rosamond’s eyes stung. Percy had just rescued Beryl. What a good man, exactly what her friend needed.
Beryl regained her composure, and she and Percy began to chat. Mabel eyed Rosamond and lifted one eyebrow. Rosamond returned a tiny nod, bringing a pleased smile from her hostess.
Boisterous laughter sounded in the hallway as Beryl’s father and her three unmarried sisters entered. She sent Rosamond a panicked look.
“Oh, good.” Rosamond knew of only one way to manage this situation: head-on. “You gentlemen will get to meet more Eberlys.” These next few minutes might be awkward.
* * *
Garrick stood beside Percy while bedlam descended upon the kitchen as a ruddy, middle-aged man and three attractive young ladies in Western garb entered. Unlike quiet, well-mannered Beryl, the girls jostled each other and more yelled than talked.
“Mabel, honey,” the man said, “we could smell your baking clear out in the barn.” He blinked. “Well, I’ll be a skinned jackrabbit. I didn’t know we had company.”
Garrick shuddered inwardly at the picture the man’s metaphor produced.
“You didn’t notice their horses? Honey, you need spectacles.” With no attempt at formality, Mabel pointed at Percy and Garrick and announced their names. “Boys, this here’s my George, and these are three more of our girls, Laurie, Georgia and Grace. Grace is the deputy sheriff. She’s been keeping the peace in town since a bank robbery a few years ago. I’m glad we got us a full-time sheriff now so she can help out around here a bit more. Maisie, she’s our oldest daughter, is married to the town doctor. You’ll meet them at church tomorrow.”
While she chattered on about her family, Garrick tried to grasp the idea of a female law officer. Granted, at nearly six feet tall and wearing a gun at her side, Grace seemed capable of managing wrongdoers. Even ladylike Rosamond had helped defeat the train robbers. Perhaps these Western women needed to be as tough as the men. Except Beryl, whose cheerful chat with Percy ended the moment her sisters entered the room. Curious. Yet no matter what he saw here, he must try not to judge any of them by proper British standards.
“I don’t know, Ma.” Grace grabbed a roll from the platter. “Sheriff Lawson said this mornin’ he’s countin’ on me to help him.” She took a bite but kept talking. “Beryl’s home now. She can help you.”
Beryl began to tremble.
“Oh, dear.” Rosamond put an arm around her friend. “I’m counting on Beryl to help me plan our new high school.” She smiled at the two younger sisters. “I hope you’ll be enrolling in our classes.”
Warmth swept through Garrick’s chest. He didn’t understand the situation, but Rosamond’s care for her friend suggested an admirable depth of character. Perhaps working with her on the hotel project wouldn’t be so difficult, after all.
“In fact,” Rosamond said, “we’ve a lot to plan and need to start right away. Mabel, will you let Beryl spend a few weeks with us, starting tomorrow after church?”
Garrick’s warm feelings sank to his stomach like a cold lead weight. With Percy and Beryl in the same house, how could he prevent their forming an attachment?
From the enthusiasm on Percy’s face, Garrick feared it was already too late.
* * *
Rosamond had tried to outwit Mother’s maneuvering, but here she sat beside Garrick in the church pew. This afternoon she must persuade Mother to stop her matchmaking. After Garrick’s obvious disapproval of Beryl and Percy’s developing romance, she couldn’t even like Garrick, much less love him.
Of course Reverend Thomas gave a sermon on loving one’s neighbor. She’d learned long ago the pastor always preached what she needed to hear, as though the Lord whispered in his ear that Miss Rosamond Northam wasn’t listening to Him, so His servant must speak to her in an audible voice she couldn’t miss. How silly. She hadn’t spoken to Reverend Thomas since returning from Boston, so he knew nothing of her spiritual disposition. Still, she paid attention.
Despite the conviction churning within, she enjoyed being back in her home church. Would Garrick turn up his nose at their simple service? Oh, dear. There she went again, judging him. Lord, help me to love him with Your love.
Across the sanctuary, Beryl sat with her family. Occasionally, she smiled hopefully at Rosamond, which must mean her folks had given permission for her move to Four Stones. Last night, Mother had welcomed the prospect, for she always thrived with a houseful of guests.
Rosamond hoped none of Beryl’s sisters objected. Beryl wanted to please everyone. A complaint from a beloved sister might make her stay home, whatever the cost emotionally. Yesterday as they toured the Eberly ranch with the Englishmen, Laurie and Georgia had teased Beryl about her parasol. Though she laughed, Rosamond could see they’d hurt her feelings.
As the final hymn ended, Mother gave Garrick a smile. “Rosamond will introduce you and Percy to Reverend Thomas while Mabel and I count the offering.”
Rosamond smiled, despite her annoyance. “Certainly. Come along, gentlemen.” Maybe she could leave them with Reverend Thomas and find Beryl. Or leave Garrick with the pastor and take Percy to find Beryl. Rosamond didn’t care for Mother’s matchmaking on her behalf, but she certainly enjoyed doing it for her friend.
* * *
Garrick approved the way Reverend Thomas conducted the service. His sermon revealed an intelligent theological mind. The service was simple, the music a pleasant surprise. The gray-haired organist played the pump organ with a dexterity that belied her age. Most of the congregants sang heartily, and most sang in tune. After the closing hymn, Garrick felt his spiritual cup full to overflowing.
Mrs. Northam needn’t have assigned Rosamond the task of introductions, for the minister stood at the door to speak to each parishioner. Yet after hearing a fine message on loving one’s neighbor, Garrick looked forward to Rosamond’s company. Her rose-scented perfume only added to the pleasure.
Each churchgoer lining the aisle received a warm, personal greeting from the minister. In return, some complimented the sermon while others shared news. Garrick planned his own remarks with care.
“Rosamond!” The minister greeted her with a warm smile. “Look at you. All grown up.”
She beamed like a child praised by a parent, although the young minister was perhaps twenty-eight and no more than thirty.
“Reverend Thomas, your sermon was just what I needed today.” She glanced at Garrick.
His heart sank. Did she have so much trouble viewing him with Christian charity?
“Permit me to present Garrick Wakefield and Percy Morrow.”
As she made the introduction, Garrick realized his mistake. She’d looked at him only to bring him into the conversation. He must cease thinking she bore some antagonism toward him.
After the presentations had been made and hands shaken, Percy added his compliment. Garrick then took his turn.
“Your quotation from Spurgeon’s sermon was most appropriate, sir.” He saw Rosamond’s eyebrows arch. Had his remark sounded arrogant? “When I was a lad, I had the pleasure of hearing Spurgeon speak at Metropolitan Tabernacle. His message ‘Pray without ceasing’ entirely changed my prayer life. In fact, my life in general.”
“Ah, you know Spurgeon’s work?” The minister spoke in an amiable Southern drawl.
“Indeed. I have a volume of his sermons that provides excellent reading.”
“An entire volume?” If a minister could be accused of envy, Reverend Thomas’s eyes took on just such a longing. “I have only a few pamphlets and quotations.”
“You must borrow mine.” He’d make it a gift and purchase another copy when he returned to London. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.” He glanced at Rosamond, whose half smile and warm gaze indicated approval of...something he’d done? “Would tomorrow afternoon be acceptable?”
“Yes.” She looked behind them. “We should move on.”
“Of course.” He turned back to the minister. “Could we meet for Scripture study?”
Reverend Thomas smiled. “Entirely possible. We can begin tomorrow, if you like.”
“Excellent.” Glancing around for Percy’s agreement, he saw his cousin and Rosamond crossing the churchyard toward the Eberly girls.
Beryl gazed up at Percy from beneath her lace parasol. The two younger ones chatted merrily. Grace stood watching, arms crossed, gun hanging at her side, and a critical gleam emanating from those intense blue eyes. Perhaps she agreed with Garrick that Percy and Beryl shouldn’t form an unsuitable attachment.
He took a step in that direction only to be intercepted by Rand and Tolley Northam. Tolley gave him a curt nod, and his lips formed a thin line.
Rand shook his hand. “Did you enjoy the service?”
“Indeed, I did.” He wanted to move on but didn’t want to offend this man. Tolley already found him lacking in some way. For his own part, Garrick must apply today’s sermon and forgive Tolley for tripping him during yesterday’s branding. It hadn’t been an accident or prank, but a malicious act.
“I told my Sunday school class about you and Percy,” Rand said. “They’d enjoy hearing from you. Would you address them next Sunday morning? We meet an hour before the church service, and we can invite Nate’s class to join us.”
The unexpected request astonished him. “It would be a privilege, sir.” How remarkable that the older two brothers taught Sunday school. Speaking to the lads was an honor he wouldn’t decline.
“Yeah,” Tolley said. “They’ll get a real hoot out of the funny way you talk.”
Rand chuckled, giving Garrick pause. Was his invitation meant to be an insult rather than an honor? A knot formed in his chest. Whatever they threw at him, he must answer without offending or he’d risk losing Colonel Northam’s good opinion.
Rand elbowed his brother. “You’d be surprised, kid. Some of these boys hanker to see the world beyond the San Luis Valley. They may never travel abroad, so this’ll be a real treat.”
Garrick’s knot eased. Tolley, however, snorted and walked away. His brother’s use of “kid” made him flinch. Oddly, Garrick felt a measure of empathy, having endured his own share of set downs. At the birth of Viscount Eddington, Uncle’s first son, Garrick was demoted in Society’s view. No longer heir presumptive to an earldom, thus no longer sought after for future favors, either social or political. Of course, Tolley probably wouldn’t understand how crushing that had been. As one of four heirs to his father’s wealth, he had a secure future, even if his inheritance was part of a dusty cattle ranch in this remote mountain valley.
Garrick must find a way to befriend him, even though Tolley seemed determined to dislike him. Even though a veiled threat shaded every look the younger man sent his way.
