Weston quickly set her straight.
“Your evaluation of my haircut was something I knew my sister would enjoy.”
Rosa breathed an internal sigh of relief. Louise would never recover if she heard about her attempt at corralling the rogue ewe.
Eliza went on. “I just wish I’d been there to see it. I can only imagine. Alas, he didn’t wait. He had it trimmed before we arrived. Do you think it’s a vast improvement?”
Rosa’s mouth twitched. He would keep her secret safe, and although she was grateful, she knew whose team she was on when siblings bantered. Sisters had to stick together.
She dared to study him for a long moment, taking in the clean-shaven jaw and the freshly trimmed sideburns framing his handsome face. Rosa screwed up her mouth in disapproval. “No, I’m sorry to say it isn’t much improved, but I don’t think the barber can be blamed.”
“Rosa!” Louise gasped as the girls dissolved into giggles. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. And you, Eliza Jane, you haven’t changed a bit, always tormenting your poor brother. Doesn’t he have enough on his plate?”
Weston shook his head. “You’re wasting your time, Aunt Louise. If Eliza hasn’t profited from the correction of Aunt Mary, Mrs. Lovelace, and the whole staff of the St. Louis Ladies’ Academy, a mere reprimand won’t be effective. The die is cast, and now we must endure while she raises a family of hoydens just like her.”
“A family?” Louise’s hand flew to her chest. “Is there a family to go with this Mr. Jake England that we’ve yet to meet?” Her eyes scanned Eliza’s figure speculatively.
Eliza’s happy face turned a shade happier. “Not yet, but there will be this fall.” Then under her breath she added primly, “Although who can say if it’ll be a hoyden or not.”
Louise looked to Weston, but he adjusted the trim on his Stetson, refusing to acknowledge Eliza’s latest comment. Rosa bit her lip to stop the grin that threatened to emerge.
Clearing his throat, Weston restored some decorum to the parlor by addressing his aunt. “So it’s been a decade? It’s hard to fathom you’ve been gone that long.”
“I can’t believe I spent ten years in Mexico either, but when I came back and saw how much had changed, it seemed I’d been gone a lifetime. When I left, you were still green behind the ears and Eliza hadn’t put her hair up yet.” Louise smiled fondly at the girl. “You grew up without my permission. Yes, the largest shock is with the young folks. My generation just plods along, nothing new, unless you’re Mary and get a few December surprises from the stork. Besides that, everyone is just as they were the day we pulled down that drive, heading for Mexico with a wagon brimming with hope, dreams, and my little family.” She reached into her apron for a hankie and dabbed her eyes.
“And you, Weston, tell me about your own sweet wife. Cora? Was that her name?”
“Was that her name?” How he hated to hear was describing his wife. So final. So permanent.
“Yes, ma’am—Cora Smock. Her people are from St. Louis—which is where we met. She was actually at the academy with Eliza.” He floundered. How could he put together the bare bones of the story without disturbing the sensitive, painful truth?
“Cora and I were the closest friends,” Eliza interrupted, “and her parents entertained us while Wes was in town to see me.” Thus she began the colorful narration, leaving Weston alone with his memories:
True, Cora was stunning—the consummate mistress of the soirees held in her parlor. But what most impressed Weston was her poise. She was capable, gracious, and welcoming to all. She didn’t simper like Eliza’s other academy friends. For a slender lady, Miss Smock had broad shoulders, and her hands, although soft and white, were ample—definitely large enough to handle reins.
Here was a woman who could stand by his side and meet the challenges of life without
“Your evaluation of my haircut was something I knew my sister would enjoy.”
Rosa breathed an internal sigh of relief. Louise would never recover if she heard about her attempt at corralling the rogue ewe.
Eliza went on. “I just wish I’d been there to see it. I can only imagine. Alas, he didn’t wait. He had it trimmed before we arrived. Do you think it’s a vast improvement?”
Rosa’s mouth twitched. He would keep her secret safe, and although she was grateful, she knew whose team she was on when siblings bantered. Sisters had to stick together.
She dared to study him for a long moment, taking in the clean-shaven jaw and the freshly trimmed sideburns framing his handsome face. Rosa screwed up her mouth in disapproval. “No, I’m sorry to say it isn’t much improved, but I don’t think the barber can be blamed.”
“Rosa!” Louise gasped as the girls dissolved into giggles. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. And you, Eliza Jane, you haven’t changed a bit, always tormenting your poor brother. Doesn’t he have enough on his plate?”
Weston shook his head. “You’re wasting your time, Aunt Louise. If Eliza hasn’t profited from the correction of Aunt Mary, Mrs. Lovelace, and the whole staff of the St. Louis Ladies’ Academy, a mere reprimand won’t be effective. The die is cast, and now we must endure while she raises a family of hoydens just like her.”
“A family?” Louise’s hand flew to her chest. “Is there a family to go with this Mr. Jake England that we’ve yet to meet?” Her eyes scanned Eliza’s figure speculatively.
Eliza’s happy face turned a shade happier. “Not yet, but there will be this fall.” Then under her breath she added primly, “Although who can say if it’ll be a hoyden or not.”
Louise looked to Weston, but he adjusted the trim on his Stetson, refusing to acknowledge Eliza’s latest comment. Rosa bit her lip to stop the grin that threatened to emerge.
Clearing his throat, Weston restored some decorum to the parlor by addressing his aunt. “So it’s been a decade? It’s hard to fathom you’ve been gone that long.”
“I can’t believe I spent ten years in Mexico either, but when I came back and saw how much had changed, it seemed I’d been gone a lifetime. When I left, you were still green behind the ears and Eliza hadn’t put her hair up yet.” Louise smiled fondly at the girl. “You grew up without my permission. Yes, the largest shock is with the young folks. My generation just plods along, nothing new, unless you’re Mary and get a few December surprises from the stork. Besides that, everyone is just as they were the day we pulled down that drive, heading for Mexico with a wagon brimming with hope, dreams, and my little family.” She reached into her apron for a hankie and dabbed her eyes.
“And you, Weston, tell me about your own sweet wife. Cora? Was that her name?”
“Was that her name?” How he hated to hear was describing his wife. So final. So permanent.
“Yes, ma’am—Cora Smock. Her people are from St. Louis—which is where we met. She was actually at the academy with Eliza.” He floundered. How could he put together the bare bones of the story without disturbing the sensitive, painful truth?
“Cora and I were the closest friends,” Eliza interrupted, “and her parents entertained us while Wes was in town to see me.” Thus she began the colorful narration, leaving Weston alone with his memories:
True, Cora was stunning—the consummate mistress of the soirees held in her parlor. But what most impressed Weston was her poise. She was capable, gracious, and welcoming to all. She didn’t simper like Eliza’s other academy friends. For a slender lady, Miss Smock had broad shoulders, and her hands, although soft and white, were ample—definitely large enough to handle reins.
Here was a woman who could stand by his side and meet the challenges of life without
Similar Books
