as Angela, the Northams’ cook and housekeeper, whom Susanna had met the night before.
Susanna stared at Daddy. “Isn’t it a bit early for breakfast?”
An odd little grin flitted across his lips, and he shrugged. “Get the door, daughter.”
Susanna hurried to obey, admitting the servant to the room. Angela brought in a tray holding a pitcher of steaming water and some masculine grooming supplies. Over her arms, she carried several towels and what appeared to be brown trousers and a white shirt. The sturdy, dark-eyed woman, perhaps forty years old, glanced briefly at Susanna, doubt filling her expression.
“Is this time good?” Her question was directed at both of them.
“Well, I—”
“Of course.” Daddy coughed and grabbed his ribs. When he recovered, he spoke with effort. “You go on, Susanna. Angela came up last night and offered to help me. She said Mrs. Northam sent her.”
“But—” An odd sensation swept over her. Not quite censure, but not quite approval, either.
“Miss Susanna, I am a Christian and a servant.” Angela’s warm gaze exuded understanding of her confusion. “Nothing improper will happen. On this, you have my word.”
“Mine, too.” Daddy chuckled and paid for it with another spasm of pain. Again he clutched his ribs, then gave her an artificial glower. “Are you going to obey me, daughter?”
“Oh, very well.” She returned to his bedside and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Angela.” She wagged a finger in Daddy’s face. “Now, you behave and get your rest.”
Her heart light, she hurried back to her room to don her brown woolen skirt. Rosamond had promised a sidesaddle was available for her, as though that was unusual. Then Susanna noticed the other two girls wore skirts that were split to accommodate riding astride. With some difficulty, she hid her shock. On the other hand, their boots appeared to be much more appropriate for riding than her walking shoes. If she rode often, she’d have to get a pair of those boots.
The three of them had talked late into the night until travel weariness had overcome Susanna. Strangely, she woke feeling refreshed, and the younger girls seemed just as energetic. While she’d checked on Daddy, they’d gone downstairs to fix an early breakfast, so she mustn’t keep them waiting. Happiness kicked up inside her. Nate would be waiting, too. It took a few moments for her to remind herself that this was a Yankee household. As kind as the children might be, their father’s behavior more than negated their generous actions.
* * *
Nate drank his second cup of coffee while the girls cleaned up after their breakfast and packed a picnic. Mother had a rule that they had to leave Angela’s kitchen the way they found it, so they were taking special care. Still full from last night’s steak and potatoes, he’d managed to eat a plate of griddle cakes and eggs so he wouldn’t get hungry on the trail. After waking up early to prepare the horses, he couldn’t wait to head out.
As restless as he felt, he kept an eye on the kitchen door hoping, even praying, that Susanna would join them. The Colonel had sent him out on chores after supper last night, so he hadn’t had a chance to invite her on today’s outing. He knew he could count on his little sister to think of their guest, even if it turned out she had to refuse the invitation because of her father’s condition.
The door opened, and Susanna peered in almost as if she doubted her welcome. Nate jumped to his feet as relief flooded him. This lady’s presence would make today a lot more tolerable. No, make it downright enjoyable.
Before he could speak, both Rosamond and Maisie rushed over and hugged Susanna.
“I’m so glad you decided to come.” Rosamond spoke in a hushed tone as befit the early hour.
Maisie retrieved a plate of griddle cakes they’d set back. “You hurry and eat while we finish the cleanup.”
She then ushered Susanna to the kitchen table, and Nate held out a chair for her.
“Oh, thank you.” Susanna, always the lady, laid her napkin across her lap, bowed her head briefly, poured a dainty amount of chokecherry syrup on her griddle cakes and began to eat.
Nate sat across the table from her and propped his chin on his fists. “How’s your father?”
“He had a hard time sleeping last night.” Worry skittered across her face, but then she smiled. “Your mother very kindly asked Angela to see to him, and he insisted that I come with you.”
“Well, you can see we’re all pleased you can go.” Nate glanced at the other two girls, who were watching them with identical smiles. He shot them a frown. The last thing he needed was to have them tease about Susanna and him. “I haven’t had a chance to ask if you ride, but I put Mother’s sidesaddle on a sweet little mare for you, so you’ll be all right even if you don’t.”
“Humph.” That playful glint, which he hadn’t seen since yesterday at the river, returned to her eyes, sending an odd little thrill through his chest. “La-di-da, Mr. Northam, what must you think of me? We Southern ladies know very well how to ride. But mercy me, where are my manners? I do so appreciate your accommodating me with that sidesaddle.”
Her mention of being a Southerner reminded Nate of the Colonel’s assumption that she and her father were lazy, which Nate found nothing short of unfounded prejudice. On the other hand, he noticed she didn’t seem to hold the bitterness he’d seen in some Southerners. That alone showed real character. He couldn’t ask her, of course, for he’d learned long ago not to open discussions about the war with those on the losing side. He could only hope she would overlook the few times he’d slipped.
While he ruminated on that, the other two girls giggled softly, as if they were enjoying this exchange. He needed to take Rosamond aside and tell her to quit it or else. For now he’d stick with teasing Susanna.
“Well, then, if you’re an expert rider, maybe I should go put that sidesaddle on our stallion, Malicia.” He puckered away a grin. “In case you’re wondering, Malicia is Spanish for maliciousness.”
“Don’t you dare, Nate Northam.” Maisie came over and punched Nate’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t even ride Malicia, and I’ve been breaking horses since before I could walk.”
“Shh.” Rosamond held a finger to her lips. “Don’t wake the whole house. Let’s get going.” She nodded toward the broad window, where sunlight had begun to brighten the eastern hay field. “The sun’s crested Mount Blanca, and we have a long way to go.”
The group left the kitchen and made their way through the narrow hallway to exit the house through the enclosed back porch. Bringing up the rear, Nate noticed Susanna eyeing the boots lined up by the back door.
“Rosamond, hold on.” He touched Susanna’s shoulder to stop her, too. “Let’s see if a pair of Mother’s riding boots will fit.”
A quick try-on proved successful, and the group was soon out the door and on their way to the stable.
* * *
With no mounting block available, Susanna relied on Nate to help her onto the horse. He gripped her waist to lift her, and a thrill streaked up her spine. One would think she’d never had a gentleman’s help to get on a horse before. As he adjusted her left foot in the stirrup and made sure her right knee was comfortably positioned over the pommel, she shushed her irrational feelings and settled into the saddle. As if equally pleased with their arrangement, the pretty little brown mare nodded her head agreeably.
“Her name is Sadie.” Nate handed the reins to Susanna. “Her mouth is soft, so a little direction is all you need to give her. Just use the reins, and she’ll know what you want her to do.”
His frown revealed more than a little apprehension for Susanna, a notion she found altogether appealing. After her long, arduous trek across the country, during which she’d stifled every complaint and worked as hard as any of