A Shelter of Hope (18 page)

“If it’s nothing,” he said with a grin, “then why not tell me?”

“He doesn’t care for Topeka,” she replied. “He says it’s too backward, and their regular opera singers screech like cats with their necks being wrung.”

Jeffery laughed out loud at this. “Tell him I wholeheartedly agree, and I admire his ability to make a journey to the opera so soon after his arrival in Topeka.”

Simone’s lips curled upward ever so slightly, and Jeffery relished the sight. A smile from Simone was quite rare indeed, but when she looked as she did just now, with a hint of amusement in her expression, she was incredibly beautiful.

Simone tapped the chef on the shoulder and rattled off an exchange of words to which the older man glanced over at Jeffery and burst out laughing. He acknowledged Jeffery’s words with a nod before catching sight of some employee offense that set him off in raised tones of anger.

“Now what?” Jeffery asked as he watched Flaubert move to one of the other stoves.

“The Bordelaise sauce,” Simone answered simply. “He’s protesting that the assistant cook has put in the wrong kind of wine.”

“What’s the sauce used for?” Jeffery questioned. Flaubert was in rare form, flailing the ladle and bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“It’s for the Beef Steak Frascati, and Henri says it is ruined and will have to be thrown out.” About that time, Henri picked up the pot and headed for the back door. Simone shrugged. “He knows what he’s talking about. I’ve never tasted anything like the food he prepares.”

“So you were used to simpler fare, eh?” Jeffery said, hoping the conversation would lead to more details.

“Very simple fare indeed.”

When she said nothing more, Jeffery checked his watch. “We still have a few minutes and there are some questions I have to ask you. Mr. Harvey will expect me to conduct a thorough investigation of you.” At this, he saw the color drain from her face, and even though the kitchen temperature was overwhelmingly warm, Simone trembled as if suddenly chilled.

Jeffery took hold of her arm and led her from the kitchen back into the dining room. Pulling her to one corner, he continued to grasp her arm. “Simone, are you feeling ill?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you need to know, but there isn’t much to tell.”

“I could use some references. You know, folks I could notify and question concerning your character.”

“There’s no one,” Simone said seriously. “We lived too far into the mountains. There was no one else. Just my father and mother, and now they’re dead.”

“Surely someone can vouch for your character.”

She bit at her lip and shook her head. “No, there’s no one. If you have to fire me, I understand, but I can’t tell you anything more. I lived in the Wyoming Territory, and I’m not even sure what part I came from.”

Jeffery felt an uneasiness about her declaration. Surely it wasn’t possible in this day and age of modern conveniences and improved transportation for a young woman to be so clearly uncertain as to where she grew up. It also seemed highly unlikely that no one could vouch one way or the other for her character. Still, she appeared to be well-mannered and intelligent, although Miss Taylor had spoken of her lack of knowledge when it came to many of the things other girls took for granted. She maintained a fascination with indoor plumbing and electric lighting, and Rachel had told of Simone being completely intrigued by a sewing machine stationed in one of the upstairs rooms.

These things, added to what bits and pieces Jeffery had been able to gather from his earlier conversations with Simone, seemed to point to a very secluded existence.

“Simone, you needn’t allow this to upset you. I have no intention of firing you. I simply have a job to do, and investigating all of our girls is a part of that job. Mr. Harvey will expect me to account for each one of you.”

She nodded. “I understand, but—” Just then the sound of the train whistle could be heard. “One-mile warning!” someone called out, and Simone pulled away from Jeffery.

“I have to get to work.”

“I understand,” he said, watching her hurry off to join her Harvey sisters in carrying salads to the tables.

“Well,” he chided himself, “you’re no better off now than when you started.”

He took a seat at the table just as the dinner gong sounded. Once again the rush of patrons and staff overwhelmed the once quiet little dining room. His table quickly filled up with other men. Some were well dressed and obviously from a more refined background, while several were clearly cowboys, no doubt bound for the western ranches along the line. One thing marked them as alike, however, and that was the fact that each man wore a suit coat either from his own wardrobe or from Fred Harvey’s supply of dark alpaca coats. No man was allowed to dine in the Harvey House without a coat because Mr. Harvey insisted that this small bit of civilization was necessary to have a companionable and refined dinner. He had also confided that men tended to be less inclined to fight when wearing their Sunday best—or someone else’s Sunday best, for that matter.

Simone approached their table warily and questioned each man about their choice of drinks. Many asked for liquor, which wasn’t on the menu. Even if it had been, Kansas was an adamantly dry state, at least on paper. They settled for coffee when Simone made it clear that beer and whiskey weren’t an option. Jeffery watched her work in the dining hall and felt good about his choice to hire her. He might know next to nothing about her background, but her ability to learn and the quiet manner in which she conducted herself spoke for itself.

“Now, she’s sure a looker,” one man told his traveling companion.

“You’re tellin’ me. Old man Harvey knows how to pick ’em. Even if he does dress ’em like nuns.”

“Say, darlin’, wouldn’t you like to marry me and go west?”

Simone ignored their teasing, and only once, when a man reached out to touch her, did she flinch and act the slightest bit disturbed. Jeffery said nothing, but the scene only confirmed his earlier thoughts that Simone would most likely not fulfill her full nine-month contract. Her features bordered on angelic, and her figure, even hidden in the black shirtwaist gown and high-necked white apron, made most of the men at his table sit up and take notice.

Before he knew it, the fifteen-minute warning sounded. Jeffery finished off his pie and coffee and excused himself from his remaining dining companions. He retrieved his papers and satchel, and by the time he’d returned to the dining room, most of the passengers had made their way back to the train.

With his brown derby in hand, Jeffery approached Simone as he headed for the door. “You did a good job, Simone. You’re a quick learner.”

She looked away from him and stared at the floor. Flattery apparently made her uncomfortable, but for the life of him Jeffery couldn’t figure out why. Most women enjoyed hearing they looked pretty or had done a good job, but not Simone. It only seemed to create an air of tension between them.

“I’m still willing to bet you break that contract,” he said, deciding that teasing her was the only way to lighten the moment.

At this, Simone lifted her face to meet his gaze. “What are you willing to bet?”

He looked deep into eyes so dark and blue that they almost appeared black. Her beauty seemed to heighten with each passing day, yet Simone clearly had no confidence in her looks. Had no one ever told her she was pretty? Had no one ever courted and wooed her in hopes of winning her hand? Jeffery found this so hard to believe that he happily threw out the challenge. “I’ll bet a month’s worth of pay that you marry before the contract is up.”

“Seventeen dollars and fifty cents?” Simone questioned, her face contorting anxiously in consideration of his announcement.

“Precisely. If you marry before your contract is up, you will pay me exactly that amount. If you manage to hold out, which I don’t think will happen,” he said with a teasing grin, “then I will pay
you
a month’s salary. What do you say?”

Simone seemed to think on the matter for several moments, and it wasn’t until the conductor came into the dining hall to make sure all passengers for the southbound were on board that Simone nodded.

“I’ll take your challenge, Mr. O’Donnell,” she said softly. “But you’ll lose.”

“Will I?” he said, grinning as he stepped outside and popped the derby on his head. “I suppose only time will tell.”

FOURTEEN

LOUIS DUMAS SMILED at the ticket agent and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like my daughter. Could you by any chance remember where she was headed?”

The man scratched his head for a moment. “Seems she was headed to Chicago. I remember her saying that someone had told her about Chicago. She was short on the price of a ticket, but I suggested that she sell the horse she rode up on.”

“I guessed it might be somethin’ like that. I just talked to the liveryman and learned that he had her horse and gear,” Louis replied. “So then she returned here and headed out for Chicago?”

“As best I can remember,” the man replied. “She came back on foot with the price of the ticket in hand. She bought her ticket, but I can’t say that I know for sure that she got on board the train. Doesn’t seem likely she wouldn’t, though. Not after having spent the money and all. Still, even if she got on the train, ain’t no guarantee she stayed on it.”

Louis ignored the man’s thoughts on the matter. Simone would probably be too frightened to get off before the assigned town. “When was that?”

“Oh, pert near a week ago. Maybe more. Say, you gonna buy a train ticket? Eastbound’s due inside of thirty minutes.”

Louis shrugged. “Perhaps. I need to do some thinking first.”

At this, the ticket agent lost all interest in Louis and turned his attention to a stack of papers. Louis thought to question the man further but realized he’d already provided the bulk of necessary information. Leaving the depot, he looked up the street, first one direction and then another, finally deciding that what he needed was a drink.

She couldn’t have gotten far on her own, Louis decided. Of course, he hadn’t planned on her being quite so enterprising. So far she’d managed to keep herself just a few paces ahead of him, and it was only by the grace of the modern steam locomotive that she managed to separate herself in any real manner from her father’s diligent search.

Uncertainty and doubt plagued his mind. He’d already expended more energy and time on Simone than he’d intended. The fool girl had wandered in circles in the mountains, consuming days—even the better part of a week. Louis had easily picked up her tracks, then not so easily covered up both his and her markings to keep anyone else from following after them. But was it worth the cost of following her to Chicago? After all, his money was starting to run low. Panning for gold awaited him in Colorado, and that was only a couple of days journey to the south. He could easily lose himself in one of the many mining communities and forget about Simone and everything else that had happened to him in the past few weeks. Or …

“She’s worth a fortune,” he muttered. He remembered the enthusiastic suggestions from his companions in Uniontown. They had lusted after her in a way that evidenced the possibility of making easy money. “I could put her to work in the mining camps, and even at the cheapest rates she would bring in a profit. Why allow her to go her own way?” It was, after all, a matter of pride and an issue of obedience. He had given her over to Davis, and she had gone against his wishes. With Davis dead, she was once again Louis’s responsibility … and property.

Approaching the nearest saloon, Louis paused long enough to take heed of two lawmen already congregated by the hitching post outside the poorly constructed building.

“I have a description of the man’s horse,” the younger of the two men said. “I sent Billy down to the livery to check out if old Bailey has seen anything of a sorrel mare with two white socks on the front and a white blaze on the forehead. I figured Laramie is the closest town of any real size, and since the Union Pacific is here, it would be the logical place to head. Then, too, if a fellow was making his way on the run, it would be a good place to load up on supplies before trekking out across the mountains or the plains. One way or another, he’d probably stop to see the horse fed and cared for before setting off again.”