A Passing Glance

by Amelia C. Adams

  She nodded. “I’m only letting you go off by yourself because I know you feel this is something you need to do. But if you come home slung over the back of someone’s horse because you forgot how to walk . . .”

  “I’ll be fine.” Parker stood and held out his arms. “See? Upright and steady. I’ll be back soon.”

  “All right. See what you can find out about the Indians while you’re at it. Like, how many there are.” She shuddered. “When I think of how close they must have come to the house . . .”

  Parker reached out and touched her shoulder. “You did have the door barred, right?”

  “Yes. I always bar it at night.”

  “Good.” He paused. “We might want to bar it during the day, too.”

  She pressed her lips into a line. “Locking ourselves in as well as locking them out?”

  “Whatever it takes to be safe.”

  “All right,” she said again. “Don’t be gone long.”

  “I won’t be. And don’t forget to lock the door after me.”

  Parker waited on the porch until he heard Miranda follow his directions, and then he began the short walk out to Miles Jepperson’s place. He wondered if Miranda was right and if he was too weak to undertake the task, but then he thought about Freya, and his strength returned. He loved that horse, and no thieving Indian was going to take her away from him.

  Chapter Six

  Miles poured two cups of coffee from the battered pot on his stove and handed one to Parker. “Sorry, no cream.”

  “That’s all right.” Parker took two sugar cubes from the bowl in the center of the table and dropped them into the black sludge he’d been given. All he really wanted was something strong, and thick, sweet coffee would suit him just fine.

  “Dale Murphy and his sons rode out as soon as they could see the road, and they haven’t made it back yet,” Miles said as he took the chair across from Parker’s. “They took their Colts and their rifles, and they said they didn’t plan to come back without those horses. Dale was plenty mad, that’s for sure.”

  Parker shook his head, still disgusted with himself. “If I’d been able to go with them . . .”

  “You can’t be thinking that way. Are you so magical that you can fix everything just by being there?” Miles shook his head. “I ran into Dr. Lewis, and he told me how sick you were. Even now, sitting here in my kitchen, pretending there’s nothing wrong with you, I can see how pale you are, how wobbly. You’d probably get yourself and a bunch of other men in trouble out there, and you know it.”

  As much as Parker hated to hear the words, he knew Miles was right. He wouldn’t be any use. “Well, that’ll teach me to go riding in a rainstorm.”

  Miles chuckled. “You’re bound and determined to blame yourself for something, aren’t you? Listen, boy. Sometimes things just happen with no rhyme or reason. This happened, and you weren’t available at the moment. Oh, well. We’re gonna deal with it one way or another, aren’t we? You and your sister can’t let this slow you down none. As much as we hate to lose you, you’ve got a life to start living somewhere else. Don’t let this keep you from it.”

  “I’ll need a horse . . .”

  Miles waved him off. “We’ll figure that out too. Now, here’s how I see it. You need another full day of rest. I’ll get some men over there to load up your wagon, and when time comes to pull out, I’ll make sure there’s some sort of animal there to do the pulling. Your parents were always good to me, and it’s the least I can do. You focus on getting well and getting packed. We’ll make the rest of it happen as it should.”

  Parker reached across the table and shook Miles’ hand. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  “You don’t need to. Now just do as I say and get some rest.”

  Parker chuckled as he stood up. “Understood. On my way now.”

  He made it back to his house, but just barely, reaching the kitchen chair as his strength gave out entirely. Miranda gave him a skeptical look as she set a bowl of soup in front of him. “I hope your little jaunt was fruitful.”

  “Dale and his boys are tracking the Indians. Miles says that no matter what the outcome, we’ll have an animal to pull our wagon to Topeka.”

  “And how is he going to make that happen? Does he have a spare horse hidden in his guest bedroom or something?”

  “I have no idea, but he said he’d take care of it, so let’s try not to worry about it. This is good soup.”

  “It would have been better if you’d eaten it an hour ago, but I’m glad you like it.”

  Parker looked at his sister. “You know what? You’ve really done a lot for me over the years, and especially since Mother died. Thank you for that.”

  A pink tint crossed her cheeks. “I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary.”

  “No, I think you have. And I think you’re going to make someone a very fine wife someday.”

  She shook her head. “Now you’re just talking crazy. Are you sure that fever hasn’t come back?”

  “I’m positive. And I don’t know why you become so . . . I don’t know. Shy or hesitant—whatever it is—when I mention you getting married.”

  She sat down at the table and looked at him seriously. “I don’t know what it is, Parker. But whenever I think about getting married, I just don’t feel like it’s something that will happen for me.”

  “How could it not? You’re pretty and smart and talented—”

  “You have to say those things because you’re my brother. I’m also pigheaded and stubborn and loud and—”

  “You have to say those things because you’re a female, and females think they can’t accept compliments from their brothers.” Parker shook his head. “Trust me—you’ll get married. And you’ll leave me all alone, a grumpy old bachelor, and you’ll take pity on me and have me over for Sunday dinner every week so I don’t live entirely on beans.” Posy flittered through his mind, but he nudged her aside. “Now, tell me. How soon do you think we can be ready to go?”

  “We could leave tomorrow morning, if we had a horse.”

  He blinked. “That soon?”

  “That soon.”

  “You’ve been busy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I told you I’ve been working hard. What did you think I meant?”

  “I just keep underestimating you, don’t I?”

  “I like to keep you a little unbalanced. It gives me the upper hand. So, are we getting a horse or not?”

  “Miles will get us a horse.” Parker glanced toward the window, as if he could see from there if someone was riding up to their house. “I just keep praying that Dale and his sons are successful. I want Freya back—I don’t want some strange animal on this trip.”

  “I can’t even think of anything comforting to say. There’s just no way to know if we’ll ever see her again.”

  Parker took another bite of soup, trying not to say the words that were coming to his mind. He hated the Indians. He hated them more than his sister deserved to hear. First his father, and now this . . . He hoped he never saw another Indian again as long as he lived. And definitely not while he was armed.

  ***

  “Honestly, I’m all right,” Nora insisted the next morning as the girls were dressing for the day. “You don’t need to take turns sitting with me as though you expect that I’ll have a fit or something.”

  Posy wasn’t so sure about that.

  Apparently, Carrie wasn’t either. “Nora, let’s be frank with each other. It’s going to be a few days at least before you have the energy to be up and around like before, but even more than that, you’ve been through something heartbreaking.” She put her hand on Nora’s shoulder. “We know how much you’re suffering right now. Why would we leave you to face that alone?”

  Nora’s eyes filled with tears. “But you’re all working so much harder because of me. It’s not easy, running that dining room with so few waitresses.”

  Posy came to Nora’s other side. “If
we decide we can’t manage it, we’ll do what Mr. Brody did the other day and set the food out for the customers to take. It’s not the way we usually do things, but it worked.”

  “And no one died, either,” Carrie added. “At least, not that we know of.”

  Nora wiped her eyes. “All right, if you feel better watching me, I suppose there’s not a lot I can do to stop you—and I have to admit, it’s nice not being alone. Do you think . . . do you think I’ll ever stop feeling this way?”

  “My mother always struggled with her emotions after she had a baby,” Emma said as she finished pinning up her hair. “She’d cry for hours a day—more than the baby did.”

  “How long did that last?” Carrie asked.

  “Oh, about a month or so. The doctor said it was normal and told her to drink some wine.”

  Nora shook her head. “I can’t imagine that was actually helpful.”

  “Oh, it didn’t fix the sadness, but she’d forget about it for a while.” Emma chuckled. “I think you’re better off skipping the wine.”

  “I think so too. But thank you for telling me this isn’t uncommon.” Nora wiped her eyes again. “I’m sure I’ll be fine soon.”

  “And in the meantime, I borrowed a new romance novel from Miss Britt, and we can laugh at all the sappy love scenes together.” Carrie held up a book and wiggled her eyebrows.

  Posy smiled as she followed Emma down the stairs. Carrie was an excellent friend to have when times were hard—her consistently cheerful attitude was a blessing.

  When the guests from the morning train stepped into the hotel for breakfast, three young women were among them, one of them clutching a newspaper in her hand. “Excuse me,” she said, approaching Posy. “We saw the advertisement in the newspaper, and we’ve come to see about a job. Have we come to the right place? Are there still openings?”

  “Yes, this is the right place. The man standing right over there is Adam Brody, the owner of the hotel, and you should speak with him.”

  “Thank you.” The girl took a deep breath. “Is he pleasant?”

  “Oh, he’s very pleasant.” Something about the way all three of the girls were behaving made Posy think they’d come from a bad situation, and she rushed to reassure them. “I’ve been extremely happy here, and I think you would be too.”

  The girl nodded, and the other two remained silent. “Thank you. We’ll speak with him.”

  Posy watched as they made their way across the lobby, and then she was pulled into the usual hustle and bustle of a meal service. Halfway through breakfast, she noticed Mr. Brody guiding the girls to a table in the back of the dining room, and Emma brought them out plates piled high with bacon and eggs.

  “Are they staying?” she asked as she passed Emma in the kitchen.

  “I’m not sure, but at least they won’t be leaving hungry,” Emma replied. “Mr. Brody told me to keep bringing food until they couldn’t take another bite.”

  “Oh, no,” Sarah replied, her bread knife poised in midair. “That means the poor things have had a hard time of it. I hope they’ll stay.”

  “Well, I hope one of them can cook,” Ruth chimed in. “The two of us aren’t keeping up like we used to.”

  Sarah tried to hide a smile, but didn’t manage it very well. “I’m partly to blame for that.”

  “How? Are you making the trains come more frequently these days?” Ruth asked.

  “No, but I’m moving more slowly, and that’s not likely to stop for quite a while. Until the spring, according to Dr. Wayment.”

  Posy almost dropped the plate of butter she was holding. “Sarah! Are you expecting?”

  Sarah pressed her lips together and nodded, her eyes twinkling.

  Everyone in the kitchen squealed, and Ruth gave her a hug. “Oh, that’s wonderful! But . . . does this mean you’re leaving?”

  Sarah nodded. “I’ll stay for another few months, but after that, it won’t be reasonable. I’ll still come in and visit all the time, though.”

  “Hold that thought until after the service,” Emma said, lifting a hand. “I want to hear all your plans, but table four desperately needs more coffee.” She disappeared through the door, and Posy blinked a few times to bring herself back into focus as well. Butter. She was fetching butter.

  As soon as the passengers had trickled back out of the dining room and were on their way, the girls set about stripping the tables, but were interrupted by Mr. Brody, who asked them all to take a seat. The three new girls stood behind him, looking nervous, as the waitresses gathered around a table in the center of the room. Sarah and Ruth joined them a moment later when he asked for them as well.

  “I’m very pleased to introduce you all to Josie, Callie, and Kate,” he said, motioning toward them. “They’ve come here from Denver, where they were working at a busy restaurant, so they have quite a lot of experience, and Kate is a talented cook.” He gave a nod in Sarah’s direction. She must have told him already so he could be on the lookout for a replacement. Posy still couldn’t believe Sarah was actually leaving—she was one of the pillars of the staff.

  “We’re so glad to have you,” Giselle said. “We’ve been shorthanded for a while, and knowing that you have experience just makes it so much better.”

  “Thank you for taking us on,” the first girl said, and Posy wondered yet again if the other two were ever going to speak. It would be hard to get to know them if they never said anything.

  They had just enough time to get the new girls settled upstairs and the dining room reset before the next train, so Posy took the girls to the attic dormitory while the others pulled out clean dishes and napkins. Nora and Carrie looked up in surprise as they entered the room.

  “We have some new waitresses,” Posy said, stepping aside to let the girls see the length of the room. “Josie, Callie, and . . . I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten—my memory for names isn’t very good.”

  “Kate,” one of the younger-looking girls said, and Posy smiled. Her little ruse had managed to bring at least one word to the surface.

  “That’s right—Kate. These three beds are free, so take your pick. We all have a nightstand, and we have hooks on the walls for our dresses.”

  “Mr. Brody said you could help us with clothes,” Kate said hesitantly. “He gave us an allowance for uniforms, but we’ll need to find the store and . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “We adore shopping,” Carrie said. “We absolutely adore it. We’ll take you after the next train. And Mrs. Dempsey at the boarding house lets us use her sewing machine.”

  “Do you have any dark dresses in the meantime?” Posy asked. The girls were dressed similarly in muted mid-range colors, nothing that would suit the Brody dining room.

  “We don’t,” the first girl said. “We actually came with very little.”

  “Then you may borrow my dresses,” Nora said. She glanced at Carrie. “I have a cold, so I won’t be serving for another few days. Wear my clothes until then—that will give you time to make what you need.”

  “Are you sure?” Kate asked. “We don’t want to be a burden . . .”

  Nora waved her hand. “I have no plans to get out of my nightgown until Friday. Please don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you,” Kate replied, and the others nodded.

  Posy sat on the edge of her bed and watched as the girls hung up one dress each. They were unpacked in under a minute, and she realized just how very little they’d brought. Her mind was sparking with curiosity and she wanted to know their stories, but it took time to build up trust in a new person, and she imagined that she’d learn more about them as they felt more comfortable. And if Nora wanted them to think she had a cold, she could certainly support that as well.

  As she watched them and overheard their low murmurs to each other, she learned that the girl who had done most of the talking so far was Josie, and the one who had remained silent was Callie. They looked to be around eighteen years of age, serious-minded, and precise in their movements, as thoug
h they’d been trained not to waste a single speck of energy.

  “I’m sure we’re needed for the next train, so if it’s all right, we’ll go ahead and change,” Josie said, and Nora nodded.

  “Help yourself,” she said, motioning to the hooks where her dresses were hung.

  The three girls each chose a dress, then changed, and shortly, they looked like they belonged.

  “The colors we wear for work are pretty drab, but in our off hours, we can wear whatever we like,” Carrie said. “They carry a nice selection of fabric at the general store, so you should be able to find your favorites.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine with whatever they have,” Josie replied. “I think we’ll head back downstairs now and start making ourselves useful.”

  They disappeared through the door, and Posy exchanged glances with Carrie and Nora.

  “They’re not a very cheery bunch,” Carrie said as soon as they were reasonably certain the girls were no longer in earshot.

  “We all have burdens when we come here,” Nora replied. “This place is like a respite for drifting souls in need of a place to be.”

  “True,” Posy replied. “I hope they’ll find what they need while they’re here with us.”

  “And in the meantime, Carrie, you left off at the exciting part.” Nora motioned to the book.

  “Oh, that’s right! We were just about to find out who killed the duke.” Carrie opened the novel again, and Posy chuckled. At least they were finding ways to make Nora’s confinement more interesting.

  Chapter Seven

  Parker cinched down the final rope holding the load in place, then tugged on it to make sure it was secure. It was hard to believe they were leaving this place, but at the same time, he knew it was the right thing to do. Miles’ team of bay geldings had been hitched to the front of the wagon not fifteen minutes previous, and while Parker felt guilty for borrowing Miles’ fine animals, he recognized that it was necessary. He’d come back and return them as soon as he was able.