The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,10
she was about to burst her seams.
“Was the house in better condition on the inside than the outside?” Rosa asked anxiously. “Are Butler, Elda and Bea satisfied here?”
“They are undertaking the challenge but the interior needs as much attention as the outside.”
“Do you need more help? I could—”
Adrianna flung up her hand, then shook her head. A curlicued strand of hair tumbled from her hastily assembled coiffure and dangled by her cheek. She shoved it out of the way and said, “We are managing fine. You have your shop to tend and a husband to boot.” She frowned disapprovingly at her blond-haired cousin. “And by the way, I am none too happy that you couldn’t wait to marry Lucas until the railroad tracks were completed so I could move here. You know I wanted to help with your wedding.”
“We, um, decided not to wait that long.” Rosa’s lovely face turned pink. “I already waited twenty-six years to find the perfect man for me, after all.”
“I’m thrilled for you, Cuz, really I am. But I thought we’d made a pact to become spinsters together and let the male population of Eastern society go hang.” She wrinkled her nose distastefully. “I have only been here a few days but I’m not sure Western males are better than their counterparts. What was that nonsense you fed me about men in Texas being more tolerant and accepting of women who decide to enter careers usually filled by men?”
“It’s true,” Rosa declared. “Texas is far more forgiving than New England. Men and women have to work hand in hand to run businesses and build homesteads and ranches. There is more Spanish influence here and women enjoy more rights than we did back East where English influence still reigns supreme.”
“Maybe you should tell that to Quin Cahill,” she grumbled sourly. “I don’t think he knows it.”
Rosa blinked thick-lashed amethyst eyes. “Quin came to call? I haven’t even told him we are cousins. I wonder how he knew.”
“He didn’t. He doesn’t,” she clarified. “The annoying rascal swaggered over to offer to buy the ranch. I would have shot the infuriating man for the insult of nicknaming me Boston and insisting a woman rancher was an inevitable disaster, or something to that effect. Lucky for him that I hadn’t unpacked my pistol before he showed up.”
Rosa’s jaw dropped open. “Quin said that?”
“Yes, so don’t invite me to any activity you plan to host if his name is on the guest list. We have an understanding that we will take a wide berth.”
Adrianna strode over to survey the bolts of expensive fabric piled on the shelves. “I’m hoping you have time to design breeches and blouses to suit my needs. I intend to take an active part in running the ranch and I refuse to do it in a hampering dress.”
Rosa groaned. “Please tell me that you aren’t reverting to your teenage persona of hellion and hoyden.”
Adrianna elevated her chin to a rebellious angle. “Those were the best years of my life. I was allowed to be myself.”
“I know, Cuz. I remember the freedom we both enjoyed at your country estate.” She smiled ruefully. “Things were much better when your parents, and mine, were indulgent and less concerned about introducing us into Boston society.”
Everything had changed when Rosa’s father died shortly after Adrianna’s mother passed. Rosa’s mother married a decorated naval officer, Commander Hawthorne. They had sold their home in Boston, packed up Rosa and moved to Maryland. Adrianna’s father had sent her off to boarding school, then bustled her into high society, hoping to make a proper match that bore his stamp of approval.
Reuben McKnight had not been pleased that Adrianna rejected one proposal after another. But Adrianna, who discovered her so-called friends and acquaintances were jealous of her wealth and cared nothing about her, had refused to fit into that pretentious world.
“Luckily, Lucas doesn’t complain when I straddle a saddle on his prize horses.” Rosa smiled in satisfaction. “For a man who was once known as a hard-bitten part-Comanche and ex–Texas Ranger, he dotes on me. Life doesn’t get better, Addie K.”
“My life is improving by the day,” Adrianna insisted as she scooped up several bolts of sturdy-looking fabric. “I need five sets of breeches and shirts for chores and riding. In addition, I’d like you to make one of your most creative gowns and have it ready as soon as you can design it.”
Rosa frowned, befuddled. “I thought you planned to become the independent, free spirit