by Anna Schmidt
Putting Polly out of her mind, Grace busied herself checking to be sure everything was in perfect order for the next day. She was just replenishing the supply of juice glasses when Jake stuck his head around the door from the kitchen. “Package for you, Grace.” He held out a small cardboard box tied with a red ribbon and then lingered, his curiosity getting the better of his manners.
Grace untied the ribbon and opened the box. “I can’t imagine who—”
She opened the folded paper on top of the wax paper liner and immediately felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she read Nick’s brief message.
“Secret admirer?” Jake asked.
“Just a friend congratulating me on my promotion,” she replied as she spread the wax paper to reveal six perfect chocolates. She offered the box to Jake. “Have one,” she invited.
He peered at the sweets and shook his head. “Too fine for the likes of me,” he said. “You enjoy them, Grace. You’ve earned a treat, hard as you’ve been working.”
Grace laughed. “Nobody works harder than you around here, so I insist.”
Jake studied the candies. “Do you think they’re all the same?”
“Only way to find out is if we each try one.” She took a chocolate and bit into it. “Peppermint,” she announced.
Jake did the same, only he popped the entire piece into his mouth. “Yep, peppermint as well.”
“What’s going on?” Lily asked as she swept down the stairs, still tying her apron in preparation for starting the dinner shift.
“Grace has a secret admirer,” Jake reported.
“Not so secret if you ask me.” Lily peered into the box. “Ooh, chocolates!”
“Have one,” Grace invited, and she didn’t have to ask twice. Like Jake, Lily picked one and ate it whole, licking her fingers as she savored the sweet taste. “Heaven,” she moaned. “I am telling you, Grace, if you let that man go, you are the world’s greatest fool.”
“He simply… We saw each other at the mercantile, and he heard me tell Mr. Tucker about my new position.”
“Uh-huh. And of course, every time a Harvey Girl gets promoted, he runs out and buys her chocolates,” Lily teased.
“He’s a very nice man,” Grace said defensively.
“He’s a man all right, and, honey, that man has his eye on you.” Lily pinched Grace’s cheek and then hurried to the dining room to tend her tables.
Grace watched Jake follow Lily with his eyes. How wonderful it would be if Lily felt for Jake as he so obviously did for her. But Lily had made it clear she saw the kitchen manager only as a friend—nothing more. Grace touched Jake’s hand, calling his attention away from Lily. “Well, I have the rest of the evening free before I start double duty tomorrow,” she said, “so I think I’ll take advantage and get some rest.”
“Thanks for sharing your chocolates,” Jake said as Grace started up the stairs. “Say, Grace, there’s a concert on the plaza in the evening day after tomorrow, and it being Sunday and all… I mean, with the dining room not open, maybe you, Emma, and Lily might like to go?”
“I’ll ask them. Sounds like fun. Thanks, Jake.”
As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, she couldn’t help but wonder if Nick and some of the other cowboys might come into town for the music. “Stop this,” she whispered, but as soon as she was inside her room, she took out Nick’s note and read it again. She rolled the red ribbon around her fingers before storing both it and the note in the box where she kept her journal and a locket with the one photo she had of her parents.
* * *
By the time Grace finished her double shift the following day, she was completely exhausted. She was pretty sure a smile was permanently embedded in her face after hours of filling drink orders for the steady stream of customers who had packed first the counter and later the dining room. Usually, there was a lull just after the lunch rush, but the two o’clock train had brought a tour group—all of them excited and all of them hungry. By the time that group left and she’d served beverages to the dinner guests, she was beginning to think maybe agreeing to the double shifts had been a bad idea. All she wanted was a hot bath and sleep.
But when she returned to the room she shared with Emma and Lily following her bath, her roommates were deep in conversation, and whatever the topic, it looked serious. Emma was uncharacteristically near tears.
“What’s happened?” Grace asked. She headed across the room and sat next to Emma, who was clutching a telegram.
Lily glanced at Emma, who nodded. “It’s all right. I trust Grace. You can tell her.”
“Emma has had some bad news,” Lily said. “A man she knew when we worked together in Omaha has decided to join up with Roosevelt’s Rough Riders to fight in Cuba.”
“I thought he loved me,” Emma sobbed. “Why would he do such a thing? Deliberately place his life in danger when—”
“Perhaps he won’t be chosen to go,” Lily offered as consolation.
“He’s already been chosen, and why not?” Emma declared. “He’s tall and strong and an expert horseman, which is precisely what Roosevelt wants in his men.”
“He says he loves you,” Lily reminded her, reaching for the telegram clutched in Emma’s hand. “Right here,” she added as she smoothed out the paper.
“If he loved me, he wouldn’t be doing this. Arrogant boy, that’s what he is.” Emma stood and began pacing the small confines of the room. “Well, two can play this game. He’s punishing me because I refused to marry him on his terms. Well, what about my terms?”
Grace was unsure what she could say to comfort her friend. She had never seen Emma so upset. Of the three of them, Emma was always the one who seemed in perfect control. How could any man fail to see how strong and capable she was? But perhaps that was the problem. Some men didn’t like women who spoke up, who had opinions of their own. Grace’s mother had warned her of that often enough. “Emma, do you truly love this man?”
Emma stared at her, lips moving but no sound coming out. As tears leaked down her cheeks, she shrugged. “I thought I did,” she blubbered. “And I thought he—”
“Then write to him at once. Beg him to reconsider. Ask him to come here so the two of you can—”
Emma snatched up the telegram and handed it to Grace. “He’s already gone, Grace. He sent this right before boarding the ship taking them to Cuba.” She collapsed onto the bed and covered her face with her hands.
Lily gathered Emma in her arms. “Then we must pray for his safe return,” she said.
Emma pushed Lily away, rolling away from them and curling herself into a protective huddle. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she announced. “Thank you both. I’ll be fine by morning. Good night.”
Grace exchanged a look with Lily, who covered their distraught friend with a blanket before lowering the wick on the single lamp that lit the room and climbing into her own bed. Grace followed her lead, but she knew neither of them could ignore the soft sobs coming from the bed by the window.
She lay awake for some time, listening to Emma sniff back her tears. Emma’s heartbreak got Grace to thinking. Not that she and Nick were serious or anything, but what if they were?
Emma had clearly trusted her young man, believed he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But he had wanted something that didn’t include Emma, and he had chosen that over her. Nick had plans—a place of his own, according to Polly. Grace wondered where love might fit into that picture. Was Nick capable of choosing a piece of land or a chance to start his own ranch over the possibility of true love? Was that something all men did—put what they wanted in life ahead of what would be best for the women they loved?
* * *
He really should just stay at the ranch. Nick had half expected some word from Grace. She could have sent some thanks for the chocolates. He needed a sign.
“Come on, boss,” one o
f the hands urged. “Let’s go into town and blow off some steam. That concert’s on tonight.”
“You fellas go on. I’ve got work to do.”
“You’re sure?”
Nick grinned. “No,” he admitted. “Maybe I’ll see you if I get caught up on these ledgers.”
He heard the men ride off and turned his attention back to updating the columns of figures, but his mind wandered. He kept hearing music that wasn’t there and seeing Grace, all dressed up and enjoying herself. He shook off the image and turned back to the long line of numbers on the page. They blurred, and he rubbed his eyes. Maybe the boys were right. Things were slow this time of year, and the ledger could wait until morning. Opportunities to get away for a few hours were rare enough in his business, so why not take advantage?
He stood and stretched and realized he smelled of work and sweat. He stripped down to his waist and washed himself. As he dressed, he spied Slim’s bottle of hair tonic on the shelf above the cowboy’s bunk. He splashed a couple of drops in one palm, rubbed his hands together, and then ran them through his thick hair. It smelled like limes. Pulling on a clean shirt, he bent to study his reflection in the small mirror that hung on a nail near the bunkhouse door. Probably could use a shave, but that would take some time, and he had a half hour’s ride into town. He finished buttoning his shirt, stuffed the tails into his trousers, hooked his suspenders over his shoulders, and grabbed his hat and jacket from the nail above his bed before heading out.
Outside, the black sky was dotted with stars, and the air was cool and dry. When he discovered his horse already saddled and waiting for him, Nick laughed out loud. The boys had clearly bet on him coming into town. He’d have to buy them a beer—and then he’d have to see if Grace was among those listening to the music in the plaza. The boys were right. It was a night to forget about work.
He heard the band as he reached the edge of town. Just past the hotel, a crowd had gathered around the bandstand. Was Grace there? And what if she was? What would he do? What would he say? He’d sent her the candy, but she hadn’t replied, and now he was worried that he’d made a mistake. Maybe she had someone back home. The truth was, he knew very little about Miss Grace Rogers.
“Well, there’s a remedy for that, Sage,” he muttered as he dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post outside one of the saloons. Before he did anything else, he might as well buy his men that beer.
* * *
Grace had just walked over to the crowded plaza with Emma, Lily, and Jake when she caught sight of Nick—and then saw him enter the saloon. Disappointment welled in her chest. Of course, he was a grown man, and men were known to indulge, but somehow, she’d never thought of Nick as a man who might frequent a saloon.
Silly.
But she couldn’t help thinking about Buford. The smell of whiskey had been on his breath all the time those last months they’d stepped out together. He’d taken to carrying a small bottle with him. “Tonic,” he’d told her with a grin as he took a swig. When she’d protested, he’d offered the bottle to her, suggesting it might help “loosen her up some.” When she refused and she told him how much his drinking bothered her, he’d walked away, and the next time she saw him, he’d been snuggling up to Sissy. Grace had thought herself well rid of him.
But Nick was another matter. She’d thought better of him.
“Are you chilled, Grace?” Jake studied her with concern, and she realized she’d crossed her arms tightly over her chest, pulling her coat tighter.
“No. Just so many people and close quarters.” She smiled and released her grip on herself.
The musicians had just started a new tune, one that had a few people dancing and everyone else tapping their toes or clapping hands in time to the lively beat. Some even sang along, and Grace felt her disappointment in Nick Hopkins melt away. After all, she hadn’t joined the Harvey Girls to find a beau, had she? She looked at Jake, Emma, and Lily, their arms linked as they swayed and sang, “Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay.”
Emma held out her free arm to Grace, and she eagerly joined their circle, raising her voice with theirs on the chorus. Her friend had said nothing more about the man who’d left for Cuba, but Grace was well aware that Emma’s normally sunny smile didn’t quite reach her sad eyes these days. It was good to see her out enjoying the music.
The song ended, and the band leader announced a short break, pointing out a table where ladies from the local church were selling hot chocolate. “I’ll get us some,” Jake volunteered.
“I’ll go with you and help carry,” Lily said.
Grace turned around to say something to Emma and found herself facing Nick instead.
“’Evenin’, Grace.” He removed his hat and gave her a slight bow. “Miss Emma,” he added.
“I’ll go tell Jake we need one more cup of cocoa,” Emma said and hurried off before Grace could protest.
“Are you enjoying the music?” he asked, leaning closer to be heard over the chatter of the crowd surrounding them. He did not smell of spirits. He actually smelled of limes.
“Yes. Thank you for the chocolates,” she said shyly. “That was very thoughtful.” She glanced nervously to where she could see her friends gathering at the hot chocolate stand. They certainly seemed in no hurry to return. Lily even raised her cup to Grace before turning away.
“Pretty noisy here,” he said. “Could I persuade you to come sit with me on that bench over there? We can still hear the music once they start up again, and I’d like to ask you something.”
She was intrigued in spite of her earlier concerns, but she still hesitated. “I don’t know. My friends—”
“I’ll be sure they see where we’re going.” He made eye contact with Emma and pointed to the bench on the far edge of the plaza, then turned his attention back to Grace. “Okay?”
“If Miss Kaufmann or Mr. Campbell—”
“Grace, you are not working now, and that gives you every right to sit with me—if you choose to do so.”
He was right, of course. “Very well,” Grace said and started threading her way through the crowd until she reached the bench. She had barely seated herself when he sat down next to her, and suddenly, the bench seemed far too small for the two of them. She arranged the skirt of her dress so there was a clear space between them and folded her hands in her lap. “Lovely evening.” She sounded prim even to herself and so forgave him when he lost the obvious battle and broke out with a warm, charming smile.
“It is that. Not too many left that will be suitable for band concerts here on the plaza.” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering how you might feel about the two of us stepping out together, getting to know each other.”
She uttered the first word that popped into her head. “Why?”
Her question apparently startled him. For the first time since she’d met him on the train, he seemed unsure of himself. Her heart went out to him, because she understood that kind of uncertainty. Seeing each other socially was uncharted territory, not unlike the day she’d left the farm and boarded that train for Kansas City.
“Why?” he repeated. “Well, the thing is, Grace, I like you. I thought maybe you liked me in return—at least as a friend. Seems to me like the next step might be to get to know each other a little better.”
His sudden discomfort made her smile. “I thought we had already started down that road when you kissed me without so much as a how do you do.”
His head jerked up, but when he realized she was teasing him, he relaxed. “Well now, Miss Rogers, seems to me we already cleared this up. I kissed you and you kissed me back. And now I’m asking to know more about you. It may be the cart before the horse, but it is what it is. Are you interested?”
“Yes.” The word was out before she had allowed herself to fully consider the ramifications of agreeing.
“That’s swell, Grace. And I want you to know, if you ever�
��that is, if some other guy…” He hesitated. “I mean, is there another guy? Maybe back home?”
There was something truly endearing about his sudden stumbling for words. She placed her hand on his. “There’s no one, Nick, so how about we just see how it goes? How about I start? What made you become a ranch hand?”
He let out a long breath and relaxed against the back of the bench, his arm stretched out behind her. “I love the life—the land. I grew up on a ranch, and I guess it’s all I know.”
“It seems like it might be demanding work.”
He shrugged. “I guess, but it’s never the same. No two days are alike, and that’s pretty special.” He looked at her. “My turn. Tell me about that family back in Missouri.”
“There are eight of us,” she said. “My parents, of course, and then there’s me, Reuben, Angie, Walt, and the twins—Darcy and Douglas.” She ticked the names off on her fingers.
“And what’s it like living in Missouri?”
She laughed. It felt so good to let down her guard, just talk like any two people might. “Missouri is a lot different than living here. For one thing, what folks here think of as ‘cold’ is like a spring day for us. And there’s snow—I do miss snow.”
“Sometimes it snows in the mountains,” he told her. “Maybe we could take a ride one day.”
“I’d love that.”
“Well, okay then. It’s a date.” He scratched his chin nervously. “I didn’t mean…that is—”
“It’s a date,” she said. “A new adventure I can look forward to.”
They fell silent.
Finally, he said, “Do you like it here, Grace?”
“Oh yes. Very much.”
“You don’t miss the farm?”
“I miss my family terribly, but what I don’t miss is the struggle…and the solitude.”