A New Beginning (2 page)

“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out.” Adam flashed her a grin before taking a sip of his tea. He knew she found him irrepressible, but she still endured him anyway.

“We’ll need to make a plan and determine how long it will take to get the property ready. What was it before? A hotel as well?”

Adam shook his head. “No, it was a mansion. Robert Garrison, one of the men who struck it rich in the Gold Rush, brought his money here, built a home, and planned to live comfortably until his old age, but he wasted the rest on drink and gambling. He abandoned the house to go back to California in hopes of finding more gold, but he was killed by a jealous prospector, and the place has remained empty for about eight years. No one could imagine what to do with it until now.”

Caroline dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “That’s quite the dramatic tale. It seems more suited to a novel or the stage than the story of a man’s life.”

“I agree. Hopefully, his folly will turn to our advantage.” Adam ate the rest of his scone and followed it with tea. “Back to the topic at hand. Today, why don’t you rest from your journey and get settled in here. Tomorrow, we can go back over to the property and make a list of everything that needs to be done. Once we’ve established that, we can advertise for the help we need.”

Caroline nodded. “I wouldn’t mind lying down for a bit. I believe I can still feel the rumble of the train under my feet.”

Mrs. Dempsey came back to gather up their plates. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Dempsey. This was delicious and quite satisfying.” Caroline paused for a moment. “I wonder if you’d mind a rather personal question.”

“I won’t tell you how old I am, if that’s what you’re aiming at. We’ll just say that I’m old enough to know better, but young enough to do it anyway.”

Caroline laughed.  “I would never ask a lady her age. Perhaps, though, my real question is even more sensitive. Do you run this establishment for your living? I assume Mr. Dempsey has passed on.”

“You’d be right. I’ve been a widow these five years now.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Caroline paused again, and Adam wondered what she was leading up to that would make her so hesitant. “When my nephew opens his hotel, won’t he be your competition? Will that be difficult for you?”

Mrs. Dempsey shook her head. “Oh, I imagine I’ll see some loss, but to be honest, he’ll be doing me a favor. Why, these rough men come through here after working on the railroad for six months, and they’re dirty and coarse, and they’re just not the kind of guest I aim to attract. If Mr. Brody puts them up in his place instead, I do believe that would be a weight off my mind.” She raised a hand. “Now, heaven knows those men need a comfortable bed and a good meal just like anyone else, but I’m a single lady, and one never can be too careful.”

Adam’s lips twitched at the thought of someone desiring to do Mrs. Dempsey a harm, but he supposed she was right to be cautious. “I’m very glad to hear that my new enterprise won’t be a burden for you, Mrs. Dempsey. You’ve taken very good care of me in my time here, and I wouldn’t want to repay your kindness with anything but the same.”

Mrs. Dempsey’s cheeks colored a little. “You and your fancy talk. Go on with you, now—I have biscuits to make for your supper.”

Adam chuckled as he held Caroline’s chair for her. “I’ll begin writing up the advertisement while you rest. We’ll make a go of this. I have no doubt.”

Caroline paused before leaving the room. “Adam, I’m sure I must sound critical, and I apologize for that. I promise to put my misgivings aside and do whatever I can to help you succeed. After the year you’ve had—” Her voice caught. “You deserve every happiness, and if this will make you happy, I will be right there with you.”

Adam reached out and caught her hand. “Thank you, Aunt Caroline. That means everything to me.”

She nodded once and then turned away. Adam listened to her receding footsteps, wondering about the meaning of the word “happy,” wondering if he would ever truly feel such a thing again.

Chapter Two

Elizabeth Caldwell laid her sleeping baby in the cradle in the corner of the room. The child had been up all night, no doubt overly excited from their travels and getting settled into their new home, such as it was. Elizabeth had reached the threshold of exhaustion hours before. She tiptoed away and took a seat at the kitchen table, where her mother pressed a mug of hot coffee into her hands.

“You’re doing well,” Agatha said, resting her fingers lightly on her daughter’s arm. “Every mother since the dawn of creation has walked the floor with a sick child, and you’ve joined that great sisterhood. I’m proud of you.”

Elizabeth set down her mug and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Oh, Mother, I don’t know how you raised five children.”

“It was difficult, to be sure, but there were rewards along the way too. And I had your father beside me. Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” Elizabeth studied the bit of coffee ground that floated in her cup. It had been three months since her husband died, three months of the curious mixture of relief and sorrow that accompanied his passing. If she had known this would be her outcome two years ago when she first met him, would she still have chosen this path? She had no idea. She couldn’t regret having her daughter—Rose was the reward her mother spoke of—but the rest of it, the anguish and sorrow? She could have done without that.

“I have a little something for you,” Agatha said. “I thought this might help in your search for a job.” She stood, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a newspaper, which she laid on the table.

Elizabeth’s eyes flew to hers. “Are you sure we can afford this?”

Agatha shrugged. “Tools are useful things. You need the right tools to complete your tasks, and right now, you need to find a job. I can think of no easier way to find one, especially when we’re new to town.”

Elizabeth nodded. She flipped open the pages, turning until she came upon the advertisements.

“I don’t think I’d be suited to work on the railroad,” she said with a slight chuckle. “And I’m afraid I’d make a terrible logger. Oh, wait.” Her eyes landed on an advertisement in the corner. “A teaching post.” She read further and felt a stab of disappointment. “In a boys’ school. Only men need apply.”

“Are there any more?” Agatha asked.

“Thankfully, yes.” Elizabeth traced each column with her finger until she reached one on the far right. “Listen to this. ‘Mr. Adam Brody seeks employees for his new hotel. Six bright, energetic, single young ladies from good families are needed immediately. Also needed: a carpenter. Inquire at the Garrison mansion, Topeka, Kansas.’ That’s just a half mile from here, isn’t it? I believe I heard the porter at the train station say something about the Garrison mansion next door.”

Agatha nodded. “It sounds perfect. You can leave small Rose here with me while you work, and you’ll be home to enjoy her the rest of the time.”

“But when would you have time for yourself, Mother? This position may require long hours.”

Agatha looked down at her hands. “I’m quite content to stay home, actually. I’m tired of society—or perhaps society is tired of me. I never liked the parties your father insisted I throw, and ever since . . . well, ever since his death, I’ve been happy to keep my own company.”

Elizabeth had noticed her mother withdrawing from her usual circle of friends over the years. “If you’re sure, Mother.”

“I am.”

Elizabeth read the advertisement again and tapped the paper with her finger. “But there’s a problem. Mr. Brody is looking for single young ladies.”

Agatha tilted her head to the side. “You’re not married anymore, Elizabeth.”

“I know, but surely he’s not looking for someone who has a child to support. He’d need people who can stay late, come early, and don’t have other obligations.” She finished the last few sips of her coffee and then read over the page again, wondering if she’d missed something the first time. The hotel job was the only one suited for a woman—in this whole paper, how could that be?

“I believe I’ll walk over to the telegraph office and see if I’ve gotten any responses,” she said, standing up and putting the newspaper back in the cupboard. It had been so long since she’d read a paper, it would be a nice treat at the end of the day. “Surely someone back east is in need of a governess and wouldn’t mind if I brought along a child of my own.”

“Go, go,” Agatha said. “I’ll keep an eye on the baby.”

Elizabeth put on her hat and tied the wide ribbons under her chin. This hat had been new at one time, but now it looked a bit faded and frayed around the edges, just like her. She had no idea what the current fashions were—she’d been a railroad wife, away from society, away from other ladies for so long that for all she knew, it was now proper to wear a bucket on one’s head. She smoothed down her dress, hoping she looked presentable, and walked out the door, chin high. Her circumstances weren’t ideal. In fact, they were deplorable. But she was going to find a way to raise her daughter on her own, take care of her mother, and create a future for herself. There was simply no other alternative.

She ignored the looks she got from men as she passed them on the street. The town was full of single men looking for a hardy girl to take with them on their adventures out west, and without succumbing to vanity, she knew she was more comely than many of the women they had seen since their arrival. For one brief moment, she had entertained the idea of marrying one of these men and seeing what adventures she might have, but Rose was her first concern in everything, and that kind of environment just was not suitable for an infant. Elizabeth could tolerate some lighthearted language and an occasional game of poker, but her daughter deserved better, and that was precisely what Elizabeth aimed to give her.

She was just passing the saloon when a tall man stepped in front of her, his thumbs hooked through his belt. She tried to go around him, but his shorter friend blocked her path.

“Mornin’,” the first one said. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“Please excuse me. I’m expected.” Elizabeth moved farther to the right, but the men moved as well, creating a wall.

“I was hopin’ you were a new girl at the saloon.” He nodded his head toward the swinging doors. “We could use a few fresh faces in there, and you’ve got one of the freshest faces I’ve seen in a long time.”

Anger boiled up in Elizabeth’s chest, but she refused to let it show—that would be giving them what they wanted. “I will never work in a saloon, gentlemen. Now, if you will
excuse
me.” She shoved her way past, her shoulder colliding with the arm of the man on the right. Their laughter followed her as she strode away.

She entered the telegraph office and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Having lived alongside the railroad, she had encountered plenty of rough men, but her husband had been there to protect her. He hadn’t always treated her kindly, but in this one thing, she’d known she could count on him—no man would ever speak rudely to her without consequences. Now she must learn to handle these situations on her own.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled and approached the counter. Immediately upon arriving in Topeka two days before, she’d sent three telegrams to acquaintances back in New York, spending money they could hardly spare. She’d been in the west far too long for her tastes and would love to return home. There was one response, and her heart leaped when she saw who it was from. She had known the mother of this family quite well for some years, and was especially fond of the twin girls who brought up the rear in their line of children. But as she read the reply, her chest constricted. The family was not in need of a nanny, and they were sorry to inform her that her circumstances in life would make her an undesirable candidate for any family who desired their children to be raised properly.

Elizabeth lowered the page and stared out the window of the office, unable to focus on the people who walked back and forth outside. They were all blurs of hats and bonnets with no faces.

“Are you all right, Miss Caldwell?” the telegraph operator asked, leaning over the counter to get a better look at Elizabeth’s face.

“I don’t quite know, Mrs. Flannigan.”

The woman seemed befuddled. “What do you mean? Surely you know whether or not you’re all right.”

Elizabeth considered for a moment. No one in town knew her story. In fact, as of yet, she and her mother hadn’t even taken Rose out onto the street, and no one knew they’d brought a baby with them. Elizabeth had arranged for their home rental while Agatha stayed in their old wagon with Rose. Of course, Mrs. Flannigan had received the telegraph and knew of its contents, but the wording was vague, perhaps vague enough … “Mrs. Flannigan, if a woman were widowed and left with a child to raise, do you suppose she’d be able to find a position as a governess? I’m told . . . by a friend who is in this situation . . . that it might be considered inappropriate, and I can hardly understand it.”

Mrs. Flannigan seemed to consider this for a minute. “I do understand it, I’m sorry to say.” She glanced around the office, then leaned forward again to speak confidentially. “One never really knows where that child might have come from, and it’s best not to take her word for it and subject the other children to who-knows-what.”

Elizabeth blinked rapidly. This assessment was even more painful than the telegram she’d received. “I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you, Mrs. Flannigan.”

“I do wish your friend all the best, but perhaps she’d be better off as a laundress or a seamstress,” Mrs. Flannigan said. “Terrible business, being a widow.”

Indeed, it was. Elizabeth said good-bye and left the building, trying to figure out what she was going to do now. They’d spent nearly every penny they had getting this far, and soon they’d be fully destitute. If her mother’s cough were to come back or if Rose were to get sick . . . Elizabeth couldn’t think that way. She had to focus on the possibilities, not her fears.

It appeared that returning to New York and becoming a governess was not one of those possibilities. She’d seen no “help wanted” signs in any of the windows as she walked to the telegraph office. She’d overheard no one saying they were looking to hire. Mr. Brody’s hotel seemed like her only chance. While she hated lying, she would have to pose as a single young lady. She could think of no other option.