City Girl
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Terry Dugan Design, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover photo by the Robert Runyon Photograph Collection, 00106, courtesy of The Center for American History, the University of Texas at Austin
CITY GIRL
Yellow Rose Trilogy
Copyright © 2001 by Lori Wick
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
City girl / Lori Wick
       p. cm. â (Yellow rose trilogy; 3)
ISBN 0-7369-0255-4
    1. Ranch lifeâfiction. 2. Ranchersâfiction. 3. Texasâfiction. I. Title.
     PS3573.I237 C58 2001
| Â Â Â Â 813'.54âdc21 | 00-064675 |
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All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any otherâexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America.
      01 02 03 04 05 06 / BC-CF / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Love-at-first-sight had no meaning before I saw you.
I've never been crazy about surprises, but then I met you.
Always the same. Always different.
Thank you for being my Webster.
I love you more than words can say.
If the best is yet to come, I can hardly wait.
Bob Hawkins Jr
. It's a delight to work with you and be a recipient of your warm, wonderful humor. My Bob and I love laughing with you. We treasure both you and Beth more than we can say.
Kathi MacKenzie-Foster, Nina Stianson, O.J. Acton, Walt Seward, Mike Bailey, Vince Attardi, John Hurley, Phil Fleming, Marion Smith, and Bob Boyne.
I always enjoy any time we can spend visiting at CBA. Your hard work does not go unnoticed.
Vivian Danz.
So many people fill my life with joy, and you are one of them. Thank you for your precious friendship, joyful spirit, and also your words of wisdom.
Jayne Wiese.
Your quiet, gentle spirit is beyond precious to me. I learn something from you every time we visit. Thank you for keeping on and for helping me do the same.
Todd Barsness.
We are often blessed by your words, hard work, and laughter. The coaching is just an added bonus. Thank you for hours of compassion and creativity, and for putting God first.
My Bob.
Well, we made it! The Texas trilogy is complete. Thanks for cheering me on along the way. I tried recently to imagine doing a book without you and decided it can't be done. Fun as it is to write a romance about another couple, you're still the only romance I want. It's funny, but even when I'm furious with you, I'm still head-over-heels in love. Thank you for 20 years of patience, love, laughter, and especially your guidance.
New York, New York
December 1882
R
EAGAN
S
ULLIVAN
PEDALED HER BICYCLE
down the busy neighborhood street, calling greetings to everyone who spoke to her and trying successfully not to run over anyone's dog or child. She was tired after her day in the factory but jubilant over the news she'd received at the beginning of the week.
“You'd better watch yourself,” a familiar voice called as she passed old man Cannon's house.
“I will, Mr. Cannon. How's your wife?”
“Pretty as the day I married her.”
It was their standard exchange, and with a wave and a smile, Reagan moved on. She was almost home and sighed when she saw the sign for Mrs. Banner's Boardinghouse for Girls come into view. She hoped Mrs. Banner had a good meal for the night, one that included chocolate cake.
Pulling along the curb and swinging her leg over the bar to hop down, Reagan had the bike stopped and parked in the blink of an eye. She laid it against the stone steps that led up to the boardinghouse, and with the usual jog in her step, started to ascend.
A hand grabbed her arm suddenly as a voice called her name, but she wasn't too surprised.
“Just hold on now, Reagan,” Tommy said, the usual smile in his voice. “You can just talk to me before the lady of the house catches you and says dinner is hot.”
Reagan turned with a smile and looked up at Tommy Amhurst. He lived two doors down the block, and they had been friends for years.
“But dinner might be hot,” Reagan returned in her normally straightforward way, “and I'm hungry.”
“Never mind your stomach,” he chided. “Tell me it isn't true. Tell me right now.”
Reagan's smile grew by inches.
“But it is true,” she replied, not feigning ignorance or able to conceal her excitement. “I'm leaving New York after the first of the year.”
“For where?”
“Texas!”
“Texas? What in the world will you do there?”
Reagan nearly danced in her excitement.
“You happen to be looking at the newest nanny in town.”
Tommy couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open.
“Nanny? Did you say nanny? As in a person who takes care of children?”
“That's right.”
“But Reagan, you don't know anything about children.”
The dark-haired, dark-eyed, petite woman only smiled.
“I'll just have to learn then, won't I?”
Tommy's finger came up to wag in her face. It almost touched her nose.
“You have had some mad schemes in your day, but this tops them all. What has come over you?”
“Nothing,” she told him sincerely. “I just saw a way to get out and experience life a little, and I'm going to take it. I answered an ad, and the man even sent half my fare. I may never get an opportunity like this again.” She suddenly smiled. “Not to mention, he's a widower. Maybe I'll find love.”
Knowing Reagan as he did, Tommy's head fell back with his laughter.
“Reagan, are you out there?” a motherly voice called from the window. “Dinner's hot.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Banner,” Reagan called in return. She turned back to Tommy. “I've got to go in.”
The man on the step below her only shook his head.
“You're really going to go?”
“Yes, I am, Tommy. I've run out of room for adventures in New York. I need the wide open spaces. On top of that, I'm not getting any younger.”
Tommy knew he would miss her terribly, but in a way he envied her. He didn't know anyone half as gutsy or hardworking.
“I've got to go in,” Reagan repeated as she started to turn away.
“You'll tell me the exact date?”
“As soon as I know for sure.” Reagan turned with one more saucy smile. “And besides, if I don't tell you a date, you won't be able to put together a big send-off party in my honor.”
Reagan slipped inside just as her stomach started to growl, still managing a smile at the sound of Tommy's laughter.
One Month Later
“You'll send my bike? I'm too rattled to bring it right now.”
“I said I would,” Tommy assured her again.
“But you didn't promise.”
“I promise.”
“You have the address?”
“In my pocket.”
“All right. Do it right away.”
“I will. Have you got everything?”
“Yes. I'm fine.”
The two stared at each other before both smiled.
“I envy you a little,” Tommy admitted and then added, “but not enough to join you.”
Reagan laughed and hugged him.
“You've been a good friend, Tommy. Write me if you get married or something big happens.”
“You do the same,” he said, knowing she never would. She hated letters and anything else that made her feel sentimental. The two hugged once more, this time to the accompaniment of the train whistle. Reagan boarded, and Tommy turned away. He didn't want to watch her go. He almost stayed on the busy platform, thinking she might want to wave to him one more time but then remembered that it was Reagan. She would want no such thing.
And he was right. That westbound, determined woman had already found her seat and sat with eyes straight ahead, only occasionally glancing out the window. She was off to new sights and adventures. And tempted though she was, she reminded herself that there was no room in her heart for looking back.
St. Louis, Missouri
January 1883
S
LATER
R
AWLINGS
CAME QUIETLY INTO
the room where he hoped his wife, Liberty, would still be sleeping, but as soon as he neared the bed, he could see that her eyes were open.
She lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“How are you?” he asked quietly.
“The nausea was supposed to go away after three months.”
Slater sat on the edge of the mattress, bent over, and kissed her cheek. He knew she wouldn't actually be sickâ it might be better if she could beâbut at this particular time in her life, mornings were not very fun.
“How about some juice? My mother always has some.”
“Fruit juice?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds good.”
“Coming right up.”
Liberty lay still and listened to the sound of her husband's footsteps. They were muffled on the thick carpets that lined all the hallways of Slater's parents' home. Charles Sr. and Virginia Rawlings had a wonderful two-story home in a fine neighborhood of town. Liberty had only visited one other time since marrying Slater nine months before. The first time she hadn't been expecting. She had hoped this visit would be as enjoyable as the last, especially since they had come for such a special occasion, but right now she was having her doubts.
