A New Beginning (7 page)

“Excellent. Miss Martin and I will bring our things over from Mrs. Dempsey’s this afternoon, and I'll tell my nephew of our new arrangement. Thank you for the suggestion, Miss Caldwell.”

Elizabeth gave a slight bob and headed back toward the house, hearing Miss Hampton give Tom his orders for the day as well. She didn’t envy him—he’d be watering and cutting the grass, and she knew that was back-breaking work. At least the lawn was still patchy and not thick and lush, like it was in the eastern states.

She and the two Peterson girls had just finished up in the office when Harriet came in, carrying a large picnic basket. “Mrs. Dempsey insisted on sending over an entire lunch, and she also insisted that I help her make it. I’m sorry I’m so late getting here, but I believe the food will make up for it.” She set the basket down on the floor and then looked up, seeming to notice the sisters for the first time. “Oh, hello. Are you new?”

The girls introduced themselves, and Harriet welcomed them each with a cookie. Then she glanced out the window. “My, Miss Hampton seems to be feeling very serious this morning.”

Elizabeth joined her at the window to see what she was talking about. Miss Hampton had cornered Mr. Brody just inside the front gate and was gesturing up toward the hotel, most likely telling him of the new sleeping arrangements. Elizabeth’s heart raced when she saw him. He wore a suitcoat that morning, most likely to look nice for his meeting with the station manager, and she had always liked a man in a suitcoat. But really, she shouldn’t be thinking this way. She should stop it immediately. Why wasn’t she listening to herself?

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Harriet mused.

“I might know,” Elizabeth said, turning away from the window. She wasn’t sure how to tell Harriet this, but decided it might be best coming from her than someone else. “You and Miss Hampton are going to move into your new quarters at the hotel tonight, along with Abigail and Jeanette. Won’t it be nice to get settled in?”

Harriet fixed her with a look. “Your voice is a little too bright, Elizabeth. What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Elizabeth said, not meeting the other girl’s eye. She glanced over at Abigail and Jeanette, who were watching curiously. She supposed they must be wondering what on earth was going on. “Tom will stay in Mr. Brody’s room and keep an eye on things until Mr. Brody can move in.” She spoke very quickly, hoping Harriet wouldn’t actually hear what she’d said.

But Harriet’s cheeks turned as red as her hair, and she inhaled sharply. “I don’t think he’s the proper protection for us,” she said, her words measured. She glanced over at the Peterson sisters and then lowered her voice as she leaned toward Elizabeth. “He grabbed me by the water pump, if you’ll recall.”

“I do recall, and I can’t help but wonder what the water pump has to do with it. If he’d grabbed you anywhere else, would you still be this upset?” Elizabeth whispered back.

Harriet’s lips twitched into a smile. “Silly girl, the pump is not at fault here. It’s entirely Mr. White’s responsibility, and I think he should be kept as far away from the main building as possible. Yes, he apologized, and I do remember that, but the fact is, he’s a little too eager with his arms and his lips, and I don’t think we need that type of person around in the night.”

Elizabeth heard steps on the porch, and then Mr. Brody and Miss Hampton entered.

“Oh, good. Lunch is here. Let’s take a break and eat,” Miss Hampton said.

Mr. Brody’s eyes flicked around the room until they settled on Elizabeth. She could have been imagining it, but it seemed that his gaze became warmer when he looked at her. “How is your mother today, Miss Caldwell?”

“She’s doing well, thank you, sir.”

“Please give her my best.” Too soon, he looked away, and spoke to the Peterson sisters.

“Well now, that’s an interesting development,” Harriet whispered in Elizabeth’s ear.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, her cheeks flaming.

“You know perfectly well what I mean. But before we discuss it, I need to find the right opportunity to speak with Miss Hampton about a certain handyman.”

Harriet got her chance as they cleaned up lunch. “Miss Hampton, might I have a word?”

“Of course.” She stepped off to the side with Harriet, who motioned frantically for Elizabeth to join them. Elizabeth hoped Miss Hampton wouldn’t mention that this whole thing had been her idea—that would make things even more awkward.

Miss Hampton listened to Harriet’s concerns without saying anything. She simply waited until the girl had run out of steam and then said, “Did you notice the location of my bedroom, Miss Martin?”

“I did. It’s at the base of the stairs.”

“It might also interest you to know that I sleep with a Colt in my nightstand drawer, and I’m a crack shot. Anyone desiring to get to you would have to go through me, and I guarantee you, I’d make it very difficult for them.”

Harriet’s mouth dropped open, and Elizabeth consciously fought to keep hers from doing the same.

Miss Hampton laughed. “No need to be so shocked, ladies. I’ve lived a very full and interesting life, and there’s much more to me than you might believe.”

“How did you learn to shoot?” Elizabeth asked, finding her voice at last.

Miss Hampton nodded in Mr. Brody’s direction. “Adam gave me a pistol for Christmas a few years back and told me I should learn to use it. He said no woman should be without a means to defend herself. Now, Miss Martin, do you suppose we can put this behind us for one night? Mr. Brody’s bedroom furniture should be here on tomorrow’s train, and then we’ll send Mr. White back out to the barn.” The tone in her voice said that she found the whole conversation silly. Harriet nodded and went back to gathering up the lunch things.

Elizabeth’s eyes strayed over to Mr. Brody again, as if they’d ever really left him since he walked into the hotel that day. He’d taken off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, and now he stood in his shirtsleeves, a sandwich in one hand, talking to Tom about something or another. She would definitely stop paying so much attention to him—just as soon as she could figure out how.

“Miss Caldwell.”

Elizabeth startled. Had Miss Hampton read her mind and figured out what she was thinking? “Yes?”

“How is your mother? I overheard Adam asking you, but I didn’t catch your answer.”

Elizabeth was relieved that was all Miss Hampton wanted. “She’s been feeling a little tired of late, but overall, I believe she is better.”

“There are some sandwiches leftover from lunch. I invite you to take them home to your mother, if you would. Otherwise, they’ll go to waste.”

Elizabeth doubted they would, but she was touched by the generosity. “I’m sure she’d appreciate that. Thank you.” It was rare that she was able to bring home a surprise to her mother—she’d do it gladly.

Chapter Nine

Adam scowled as he read the letter that had been delivered to Mrs. Dempsey’s that afternoon. It was dusk and he would soon be helping Caroline and Miss Martin carry their things over to the hotel, but he’d taken just a moment to read his mail, and now he was perturbed. He didn’t like being perturbed.

“Aunt Caroline, did you run into Olivia Markham while you were shopping for me in New York?”

Caroline nodded. “I did. We talked about your exciting new venture.”

Adam waved the letter, the paper crinkling in the air. “She’s just written to ask if there’s anything she can do to help. She said she noticed that you only ordered a minimum of linen napkins and wonders if we need more.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Odd that she wouldn’t mention it to me while we were both right there, and I could have done something about it.”

“I don’t find it odd at all. I think she was hoping for something to write me about. She’s always been interested in my inheritance.”

Caroline tsked. “Isn’t it possible that she’s interested in
you
?”

“I rather doubt that. She never looked my way until word leaked out that I would be wealthy after Father’s death.” Adam looked at the letter again. “I wonder if she would have been so quick to write if she knew I’d put all the money into this place, with no guarantee of ever turning a profit.”

“Tell me about the napkins,” Caroline said, her voice becoming a bit more pointed. “What other grievous mistakes did I make while shopping?”

“She didn’t mention any. She just said that if we discovered we needed anything else, we should be sure to let her know, and she’d be more than happy to see to it for us.”

Caroline nodded. “I suppose that sounds reasonable. And I suppose I must be reasonable as well and admit that I’ve been making a list of things we still need.”

“But we don’t have to ask for Olivia’s help with them, do we? You just said that you wish she’d mentioned the napkins to you at the time. Doesn’t that just annoy you?” He purposely made his voice more dramatic.

Caroline laughed. “You’d love it if I gave you a reason to ignore her letter, wouldn’t you?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.” Adam put the letter back in the envelope and tossed it onto his bed. “Olivia Markham always has a plot brewing in that pretty little head of hers. She did everything she could think of to ruin my relationship with Vivian—not that I was ever able to prove it, but it was most definitely her. I don’t trust this offer, and I can’t help but wonder what she means by it.”

“Let’s get these things taken over to the hotel, and we’ll discuss it tomorrow,” Caroline said. “It will be full dark soon, and I’d rather not be traipsing up and down the street by moonlight.”

Adam took the handles of one bag of his aunt’s and another of Miss Martin’s and carried them down the stairs. “Off we go, then,” he said, and they made their way toward his new establishment.

* * *

“And here comes the train.” Adam craned his neck to see as the steam locomotive chugged into the station and let out a long hiss. He could hardly wait to unpack their order and begin putting the hotel to rights. With all the shredded and faded linens and bedding they’d had to discard, the hotel looked virtually naked, and he looked forward to dressing it up again.

Tom stood at his elbow, ready to carry whatever was needed, and Caroline was with them as well. Adam nodded to the conductor as the man stepped off the train, and then he strode across the platform to shake his hand.

“I’m Adam Brody. I understand you have a rather large shipment for me today.”

“I do indeed, sir. My name is Wallace Dupree, and I’ve been keeping an eye on your packages since they were loaded on. Let me show you where they are.” Mr. Dupree’s eyes flicked to Caroline as he spoke, but he brought his attention right back to Adam. His ears turned a shade of pink which reached the very tips. Curious, Adam thought.

The conductor led them a few cars down the length of the train and opened the sliding door on a cargo car. “Here you go,” he said. “Nearly this whole thing belongs to you.”

Adam nodded in satisfaction when his gaze landed on the bedframes. One of those was his, and he’d move into the hotel that very day and put Miss Martin’s fears to rest. Nothing had happened the night before, but according to Caroline, Miss Martin felt that was entirely thanks to Mr. Samuel Colt’s invention.

“I’ve got a list here of everything,” Mr. Dupree said, handing it over. Adam scanned down the left-hand column, taking note of the linens, the carpeting, the dishes, and remembering that he’d neglected to order new drapes. Caroline had taken him to task for that, and now he felt foolish. These were the sorts of things that were liable to happen when he didn’t consult with his aunt before acting. How could she have known from New York the condition of the drapes in Kansas? She’d been relying entirely on him to know what to choose.

“This all looks good,” Adam told the conductor. “I’ll be placing another order shortly, but it won’t be this large.”

Mr. Dupree chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Tom brought the wagon around, and the men began making the transfer of goods. Caroline stood off to the side, her parasol blocking the harsh rays of the morning sun. Adam thought she made a rather fetching picture up against the wood of the train station, and then noticed that he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Mr. Dupree’s eyes kept wandering over there, even when his task was clearly right in front of them. Adam hid a smile. He wouldn’t mind seeing his aunt attract a gentleman caller.

“All right, let’s get this over to the hotel,” Adam called out after they’d moved the last bedframe. Each one made of brass, each one designed to attract a tired traveler . . . they’d better make a go of this hotel or he would be left with an entire wagonload of expensive bedding as his only legacy.

* * *

Adam scooted his bedframe over one inch and then stood back, nodding in satisfaction. That would do nicely. With the small dresser in the corner and the washbasin next to it, he had everything he needed. He’d once dreamed of having a larger bedroom to share with his bride, one with two big windows covered in lace curtains and a large wardrobe in the corner to hold all her dresses—Vivian had many dresses, and it would be his privilege to buy her more. With her passing, that dream had also vanished, and this quiet corner would suit him well.

“Let me make up your bed,” Caroline said, standing in the doorway with her arms loaded with linens.

“I can do it.” He took her bundle from her and smiled when he saw the shocked look on her face. “I do know how to make a bed, Aunt Caroline.”

“I supposed that you would—my sister taught you well. It’s just a nice change.” She leaned against the doorframe and watched with a bemused smile while he flipped out the sheets and tucked them in. “I’m not ready to hire you on as a chambermaid, but you’re doing a respectable job.”

“I would be a terrible chambermaid. I don’t have the patience for it.” Adam spread the blanket over the top, fluffed the pillow and placed it near the headboard, and stood back. “There. I’m officially on the premises, and we can tell Miss Martin that Tom will be moving back out to his loft.”