Assault of the Mountain Man

desk.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Whitman, may I help you?” the hotel desk clerk asked.

“Rebecca Conyers,” Tom said. “Has she checked out yet?”

The clerk checked his book. “No, sir. She is still in the hotel. Would you like me to summon her?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just wait here in the lobby for her.”

“Very good, sir.”

Huh, Tom thought. And here it was my belief that Westerners rose with the sun. As soon as he thought that, he realized she had gone to bed quite late, having arrived on the train in the middle of the night. At least his initial fear that she had left without meeting him was alleviated.

When Rebecca awakened that morning she was already having second thoughts about what she had done. Had she actually told a perfect stranger that she could talk her father into hiring him? And, even if she could, should she? She had arisen much later than she normally did, and as she dressed, found herself hoping he had grown tired of waiting for her and left, without accepting her offer.

However, when she went downstairs she saw him sitting in a chair in the lobby. His suitcase was on the floor beside him, but he wasn’t wearing the suit he had been wearing the night before. He was wearing denims, a blue cotton shirt, and boots. If anything, she found him more attractive, for the denims and cotton shirt took some of the polish off, giving him a more rugged appearance.

Although Tom had gotten an idea the young woman was pretty, it had been too dark to get a really good look at her. In the full light of morning he saw her for what she was—tall and willowy, with long, auburn hair and green eyes shaded by long, dark eyelashes. She was wearing a dress that showed off her gentle curves to perfection.

“Mr. Whitman,” she said. “How wonderful it is to see you this morning. I see you have decided to take me up on my offer.”

“Yes, I have. You were serious about it, weren’t you? I mean, you weren’t just making small talk?”

Rebecca paused before responding. If she wanted to back out of her offer, now was the time to do it. “I was very serious,” she heard herself saying, as if purposely speaking before she could change her mind.

“Do we have time for breakfast? If so, I would like to take you to breakfast.”

Rebecca glanced over at the clock. “Yes, I think so. And I would be glad to have breakfast with you. But you must let me pay for my own.”

“Only if it makes you feel more comfortable,” Tom said.

“Let’s sit by the window,” Rebecca suggested when they stepped into the hotel restaurant. “That way we will be able to see when Mo comes for me.”

“Mo?”

“He is one of my father’s cowboys. He is quite young.”

They settled at a table and ordered breakfast, drinking coffee and making small talk until their meals arrived. Rebecca had a poached egg and toast. Tom had two waffles, four fried eggs, a rather substantial slab of ham, and more biscuits than Rebecca could count.

“My, you must have been hungry,” Rebecca said after Tom pushed away a clean plate. “When is the last time you ate?”

“Not since supper last night,” Tom said, as if that explained his prodigious appetite. “Oh, I hope I haven’t embarrassed you.”

“Not at all. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Whitman. Where are you from? What were you doing before you decided to come West?”

“Not much to tell. I’m from Boston. I’m more interested in you telling me about the ranch.”

“Oh, there’s Mo,” Rebecca said. “I won’t have to tell you about the ranch, we’ll be there in less than an hour.”

Tom picked up his suitcase and Rebecca’s, then followed her out to the buckboard.

“Hello, Mo,” Rebecca greeted.

Mo was a slender five feet nine, with brown eyes and dark hair, which he wore long and straight.

“Hello, Miss Rebecca,” Mo said with a broad smile. “It’s good to see you back home again. Ever’one at the ranch missed you. Did you have a good visit?”

“Oh, I did indeed,” Rebecca answered.

Seeing Tom standing there with the two suitcases, Mo indicated the back of the buckboard. “You can just put them there.” Turning to Rebecca, he whispered, “Uh, Miss Rebecca, you got a coin? I come into town with no money at all.”

“A coin?”

Mo nodded toward Tom. “Yes ma’am, a nickel or a dime or somethin’ on account of him carrying your luggage and all.”

“Oh, we don’t need to tip him, Mo. His name is Tom, and he’s with me. He’ll be comin’ out to the ranch with us.”

“He’s with you? Good Lord, Miss Rebecca, you didn’t go to Marshall and get yourself married up or somethin’, did you?” Mo asked.

Rebecca laughed out loud. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Sorry I didn’t bring the trap,” Mo said to Tom. “This here buckboard only has one seat. That means you’ll have to ride in the back.”