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The Countess and the Cowboy. Elizabeth LaneЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Countess and the Cowboy - Elizabeth Lane


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At the sight of it, Rose shrank against Eve’s skirts.

      “I’m not scared of it. It’s dead, just like the ones in our house.” Thomas pretended to shoot the beast with a make-believe rifle.

      “Can I help you, ma’am?” The clerk, scarcely more than a boy, moved with a limp. A battle wound, perhaps, or just an accident?

      “Yes, thank you,” Eve said. “We’re waiting for Mr. Roderick Hanford to drive us home. I don’t suppose you know when his meeting will be finished.”

      “They’re in the back room. Don’t know when they’ll be done, but I can check for you.”

      “Please don’t disturb them. We can wait.” Eve settled herself on the hard bench and pulled the children down on either side of her. But it soon became plain that the little ones were too restless to wait patiently. Rose was squirming, and Thomas kept finding excuses to jump up and race around the lobby. Unaccustomed to such behavior, Eve could feel her patience wearing thin. More than an hour had passed. What was taking Roderick so long?

      Another ten minutes crawled by. Eve had given each of the children a cookie to quiet them, but it wasn’t enough. Rose had begun to whine. Thomas was scuffing his heels against the end of the bench with maddening repetition.

      Eve caught the young clerk’s attention. “Perhaps you can just look in on that meeting. See if they’re about to finish.”

      “Sure.” He disappeared down a back hallway, returning a moment later. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it looks like they’re still talking and...uh...playing cards.”

      With an impatient huff, Eve picked up her basket and reticule and rose from the bench. She could drive a buggy as well as any man, and she was tired of waiting here with these bored, cranky children while Roderick played cards. “When Mr. Hanford gets out of his meeting tell him we were here, but that we could not wait for him any longer. He can jolly well find his own way home.”

      The buggy was waiting where they’d left it, hitched to the rail in front of the hotel. Boosting the children into the back, Eve freed the reins, climbed onto the seat and clucked to the drowsing horse. As a girl, she’d learned to handle a buggy on outings with her father. Now she could put the lessons to good use.

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