Olivia appreciated Jed’s admission of learning how to cook. God forbid any man belonging to Boston’s gentry would ever admit to doing something so demeaning. That’s what servants were for. Bidding them goodnight, he left to continue his rounds, alert to any delinquencies. He observed Rutherford in the saloon, drinking ‘the best’ the bar could offer with a least one girl on his lap and two more hanging on to his every word. He reckoned the dandy would probably not sleep in his own bed tonight.<br/><br/>News of her accepting his courtship spread faster than a wildfire in August and her days were a whirlwind: getting up earlier than usual for Mabel’s rudimentary lessons in cooking. Oftentimes she’d send them off with a good lunch and coffee, feeling appreciated and grateful of the first payment already deposited into her bank account from the solicitor. School was a dream, children well behaved, not knowing when one or two parents would unexpectedly show up. Then in the afternoon, shooting lessons with Jed. Under the supervision of Daisy and Anna, he expanded her knowledge of shooting. It was one thing to shoot the neat, compact pistols ladies carried in their reticule and another to shoot a rifle and pistol with skill. Olivia was certain their courtship was unusual but enjoyed it nonetheless. Most couples didn’t get the opportunity to be in such proximity, much less touch one another. She was beginning to look forward to the next time he needed to re-position an arm or place a hand on her waist. Of course, with the girls looking on, nothing inappropriate happened. She felt certain he knew her interest in him was growing, obvious by the heightened color in her cheeks and sparkling eyes.<br/><br/>Mrs. Carpenter stopped by Saturday morning to collect the girls and give last minute assistance in helping Olivia dress for the riding lessons. Hands on hips with head tilted, she examined the lovely woman in front of her. Despite the fact they chose the baggiest pair of men’s pants, the belt holding it up only accented Olivia’s small waist and shapely hips. “Honestly,” She declared “I don’t think whatever we chose could hide the real you.” She smiled wryly, noting even dressed in a baggy overcoat, a man’s shirt over corset and camisole, and men’s trousers, Olivia’s sensuous curves were unmistakable. It was a good thing the ranger was her companion. She agreed braids would be more practical and less worrisome. Hearing his voice outside, Mrs. Carpenter (Mollie), left with the girls. Olivia stepped outside, feeling a little self-conscience. “Jed, I must tell you,” She said walking towards him, “I do know how to ride. Perhaps not western-style but I am not a total simpleton.” Grabbing the pommel and cantle of the saddle, one foot secure in the stirrup, she swung up, one leg swinging gracefully over the saddle. Looking down at him, she was pleased to see his expression. "So, where are you taking me?" She asked sweetly.