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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,

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