A New Beginning (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Agatha pressed her hands to her mouth when she saw the boxes of food. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it.”

Elizabeth took care of her hat and picked Rose up from the cradle. “Isn’t it amazing? Mr. Brody gave us all a bonus for getting the hotel ready so quickly, and he also helped me open an account at the store. I haven’t used it yet, but it’s there if we need it. I have all your cake makings there, Mother. I’ve set aside enough for rent, and a dairy farmer will be stopping by to sell us some milk for Rose.”

Agatha wiped tears from her cheeks as she took out the items one by one and placed them on the table. “I remember back when your father was alive and we had such a beautiful home—things like sugar and flour were taken for granted. Now, here I am, crying at the sight of them.”

“Life has surprised both of us, I believe,” Elizabeth said. “I got rather a surprise today—Mr. Brody asked me if I’d go on a picnic with him tomorrow. Do you mind watching Rose? I wanted to leave your Sundays free, but—”

“Of course I’ll take care of her,” Agatha said, waving her hand. “You should go and enjoy your time with Mr. Brody. I caught a glimpse of him through the window. He’s a very nice-looking man, isn’t he?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, I would have to agree. And he’s as kind as he is nice-looking.”

Agatha paused in sorting the groceries, her hand resting on a sack of coffee. “When are you going to tell him about Rose?”

Elizabeth lifted the baby to her shoulder for a burp. “I don’t know. At first, I thought I’d keep it a secret for as long as possible, but now . . . If he wants to take me on a picnic, that means his feelings are changing, maybe becoming more serious, and I don’t know what to do.”

Agatha put the last of the things on the table and stacked the boxes near the door. “Funny,” Elizabeth said, looking at the table from across the room. “I don’t remember getting that much flour and butter.”

“Maybe the grocer made a mistake,” Agatha suggested.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Mr. Brody must have slipped them into her purchases while she wasn’t looking. She had to admit, it was nice to have the extra supplies.

She finished feeding the baby, then changed her and snuggled her down for a nap. After Rose was bundled up in her cradle, Elizabeth walked over to the table and opened the first bag of flour. “Why don’t I start some bread while you mix up the cake, Mother? Mr. Brody loves cake and asked for a piece.”

“He did? Well, I’ll have to be sure not to disappoint him.” Agatha grabbed her large bowl and began to measure out ingredients. Elizabeth watched her from the corner of her eye while she mixed up the bread. She loved seeing her mother happy. It happened so infrequently.

* * *

Elizabeth dressed with extra care the next morning. She would have loved to buy fabric for a new dress, but that seemed extravagant—it would be foolish to spend all her wages the very first day, and rent would always be more important than a new dress. Well, if she couldn’t wear something new, she could at least wear something clean and tidy. She pressed her light green muslin dress, and added a sprig of flowers to the band of her hat. Hopefully, they wouldn’t wilt before the picnic was over.

“You look very nice, dear,” Agatha said from the rocking chair, where she was soothing Rose to sleep.

Elizabeth smiled down at her daughter. “Did she seem to like the milk?”

“Gracious, yes. I think it filled her right up.”

“I’m so glad. Now we have a way to keep her fed when I can’t be here right on time.”

“She’s been doing fine, Elizabeth. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Agatha always had seen through Elizabeth’s cheerful façade. “I know we’re doing the best we can, but yes, I have felt guilty. No more, though. Now we have the means to do something about it.”

Elizabeth heard the sound of hooves and buggy wheels outside. “I’m off, Mother.” Her voice caught a little in her throat. “Are you sure I look nice enough?”

Agatha’s eyes were soft as she looked at her daughter. “You look beautiful. Don’t forget the cake.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Elizabeth snatched the covered plate off the table, then turned back to give both Rose and her mother a kiss on the cheek.

“Have a good time, and don’t worry about us.”

Elizabeth closed the door behind her just as Mr. Brody approached the front of the house.

“Good morning, Miss Caldwell,” he said, lifting his hat. “We have a beautiful day for our picnic.”

“Yes, we do. And Mother sent some cake.”

Mr. Brody grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

He helped her into the buggy. Even though he wore leather driving gloves, there was still something magical about his touch, something that made her hand tingle for long moments afterward. She clutched the plate of cake a little more tightly and tried to ignore the sensation.

“Do you feel ready for tomorrow, then?” she asked as he pulled the buggy onto the road and pointed it away from town.

“I do. When I woke up this morning, I wondered if it was really possible, but then I walked around the property and double checked everything, and I think we’re prepared. I must ask you, though, Miss Caldwell, if you’ve brought your gun with you this morning.”

Elizabeth blinked, confused. “Yes, it’s in my pocket. Why do you ask?”

“I just realized that I’ve taken you away from your home without a proper chaperone. Will the gun suffice?”

Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed. “Mr. Brody, I don’t find you frightening. If I were to change my mind, however, my pocket is quite accessible. Let’s enjoy our picnic and not worry too much about social conventions, all right? Most are silly anyway.”

He laughed. “All right, Miss Caldwell. I plan to eat cake and not worry about a thing.”

He guided the buggy into a small grove of trees and tied off the reins on a low branch. Then he helped Elizabeth down, showed her where to sit on a fallen log, and grabbed a blanket and basket from the rear of the buggy.

“I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I took you home last night,” he said as he spread the blanket on the ground at her feet. “I never get tired of Mrs. Dempsey’s lunches, and I wanted to spend more time talking with you.”

“You did?” Elizabeth felt her cheeks turn pink. She wished they didn’t do that quite so often—it made her feel young and immature.

“You, Miss Caldwell, have a way of quieting my mind. I appreciate that.”

“I . . . I quiet your mind? Even when I come to you with runaway horses and wanted outlaws and every other sort of problem in the world?” She could hardly believe that.

“Even when you come to me with your problems. There’s something restful about you, something serene. If I could find a way to put that in a bottle and carry it with me, I think I’d feel much better about life in general.”

Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond. Her life was nothing but turmoil—she couldn’t imagine how she would make anyone else feel calm. “That’s a very kind thing to say,” she replied after a long moment of casting about for an answer.

“It’s entirely true.” Mr. Brody turned to the basket, suddenly seeming a bit shy himself. “Let’s see what good things we have to eat.”

He pulled out rolls, freshly churned butter, jam, fried chicken, and a bottle of dandelion wine. “It looks delicious,” he said, spreading out the feast on the blanket. “May I offer you some of everything?”

“Everything but the wine, please,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not much for spirits.”

“Neither am I,” Mr. Brody said, tucking the bottle back into the basket. “It’s too hard to keep my temper when I’ve had something to drink.”

“Do you struggle with that? I’ve never seen you cross,” Elizabeth said, surprised. “Frustrated, perhaps, and I know you were angry about Cleophas’s shoe . . . and everything . . . but I wouldn’t have guessed that you have a temper.”

“Oh, if only you could hear the thoughts that go through my head sometimes. No, it’s best that you can’t. I work very hard to control myself, Miss Caldwell. I can’t stand lazy men or fools, and when I’m faced with one or the other, it’s all I can do to keep myself in check. I feel very fortunate to have found the employees I have for the hotel. You are all quick and dedicated, making my job much easier.”

“And what happens when you come across a man who is both lazy
and
foolish?” Elizabeth asked, accepting the plate he offered her.

“Heaven forbid!” Mr. Brody rolled his eyes dramatically, and Elizabeth laughed.

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Mr. Brody wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Now that I’ve cleared a spot on my plate, I’d love to try some of your mother’s cake.”

“Oh, of course!” Elizabeth couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. She unwrapped the dish and slid a generous portion next to Mr. Brody’s chicken. “She asked me to apologize if it’s a bit dry. She’s not used to this oven, you see.”

Mr. Brody forked up a piece and tasted it. “She could give Mrs. Dempsey a run for her money. Please tell your mother this is the best cake I’ve ever had.”

“Really?”

“Really. In fact, you’d better put your slice on your plate or I’m likely to eat it too.”

Elizabeth laughed. “You may have it. I had some last night, and there’s plenty left at the house.”

Mr. Brody looked like a hopeful little boy. “You don’t want it?”

“It’s all yours.”

He grinned and held out his plate, and she slid the rest of the cake onto it.

“You know,” he said after several bites, “maybe starting a hotel was selfish on my part.”

“Selfish? What do you mean?”

“It’s one way to ensure that I always have my favorite foods at my fingertips. Aunt Caroline will be teaching you all how to make her recipes, and I hope you’ll share some with her as well. If your mother is up to it, and if she’s willing, I’d very much like to feature this cake on our menu.”

“I’ll ask her,” Elizabeth said, feeling a warm glow flood her chest on her mother’s behalf. Agatha would be very flattered.

They finished eating and put all the dishes back into the basket, and then Mr. Brody sat next to Elizabeth on the log. She’d ridden behind him on Cleophas and grasped his waist, but this closeness felt different, warmer, more personal. Her breath caught a little in her throat, and she wondered why. She’d never felt this elated and jittery with her husband, even in the first days of their courtship when she was so enamored with him.

“As I walked around the hotel property this morning, I asked myself if we had enough dishes, nice chairs at the tables, if the porch had been repaired. But there was another question I asked myself, and I realized that the only answer must come from you.”

His eyes were so earnest, Elizabeth couldn’t form words for a moment. “What question is that, sir?”

He took off his hat and played with the brim. “Miss Caldwell, as you know, I’ve suffered several losses this last year, one of them being that of my fiancée. That was a great blow to me, and I still feel the sting of it. But you . . . you have come into my life at a very key time, and you’ve stirred my heart in ways I thought were dead. I don’t feel I’m ready to begin courting again—I don’t feel that would be fair to either of us right now—but I would like to spend more time with you and get to know you and see if these feelings turn into something more. Do you have these feelings too, Miss Caldwell? Could there ever be room in your heart for someone like me?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. Her chest felt as though it would explode. Could this moment be real? “Yes, Mr. Brody, I believe so,” she said after a long moment, opening her eyes again to see him looking at her with a combination of curiosity and yearning in his gaze. She wanted to say more, so much more, but he’d only offered a possibility. “I would very much like to get to know you better, and there are things about me, too, that we should discuss.”

He grinned, and his eyes lit up like a thousand twinkling stars. “I want to know everything,” he told her. “Absolutely everything. What you were like as a little girl, what you got for Christmas when you were ten, if there’s a color you absolutely detest—everything. Let’s take it a day at a time and enjoy every minute of it. In the meantime, Miss Caldwell, there’s something I’ve been longing to do, and I wonder if you would permit me.”

“Sir?”

He reached out and tucked a stray ringlet back into her bun. “Just as soft as I imagined,” he whispered.

Elizabeth closed her eyes again and drank in the moment. She didn’t need time to get to know him better. She knew everything she needed to know already. She felt absolutely safe when she was with him, cherished in his touch, adored when he gazed at her. If he needed time, she would give it to him, but her heart was already his.

Chapter Fourteen

Adam couldn’t help but whistle as he drove the buggy back to the hotel. He’d been so nervous to speak to Miss Caldwell of his feelings that he almost hadn’t been able to say the words. Would she think it was too soon, that he was trying to take advantage of her? Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded her about the gun she carried. But the look she had given him was so full of confidence and trust, he felt like he could go wrestle a bear with that kind of woman behind him. Maybe she would change her mind as she came to know him better, but for that moment, the possibilities were endless.

“Afternoon, Tom,” he called out as he pulled the buggy into the yard. “Would you put all this away, please?”

“Sure thing.” Tom took Cleophas’s bridle as Adam jumped down from the buggy and headed inside. He passed one of the Miss Petersons in the hallway—he was still trying to remember which one was which. She was dusting the coatrack by the door.

“Miss Peterson, whatever are you doing?”

She jumped and whirled around. “Dusting, sir.”

“Did Miss Hampton ask you to do it?”

“No, sir. I just thought I’d get a head start on tomorrow.”

“Miss Peterson, this is Sunday. Not only that, but it’s the last Sunday before we open for business. Your new orders are to take off your apron and do something relaxing. I don’t care what it is, but it had better not be anything that could be construed as work. Do you understand?”