The Timeless Love Romance Collection

by Dianne Christner

  “You have no family to help?” Mabel asked.

  “None,” Olivia admitted.

  The girls stopped to enjoy the view one more time. A gray-haired man joined them. “The Colorado River carved this canyon. Probably took a couple of million years.”

  “Really?” Sarah Jane asked.

  “Yup, what you’re looking at is sedimentary rock and—” He stopped. “Aw, you young ladies aren’t interested in a history lesson. I’ll bet you have some young men—”

  “No, we’re interested,” Sarah Jane insisted.

  The man identified himself as Daniel Applegate. He knew enough about the canyon to write a book and was quite willing to share. Olivia liked the sound of the man’s voice. After what seemed like only minutes but was actually more than an hour, he excused himself, and the girls made their way past the El Tovar, across the road, and up the steps into the dormitory. A few of their peers had returned from work, and laughter came from the entertainment room.

  “I can hardly wait until I feel comfortable in there,” Mabel said.

  “It’s easy.” Constance veered to the left, dragging them with her. “Let’s pop in now and introduce ourselves.”

  Olivia pulled away. She’d never considered herself easily intimidated, but the thought of facing Michelle was more than she could handle right now. “I’m going upstairs. It’s been a long day.”

  “I’ll go write Mama,” Sarah Jane told Mabel. “You can do it tomorrow.”

  Lanterns hung on pegs every few feet. The dormitory had appeared of average size when they’d moved their belongings in during the late afternoon. Now that the sun had given way to the moon, the place seemed expanded somehow. The wooden planks on the floor creaked under their feet. Outside, crickets chirped and an owl hooted. Sarah Jane said good night and turned into her room. Olivia entered her quarters. Standing in the middle of the room, she waited for exhaustion to overtake her.

  Since returning from Europe, sleep had been the one avenue she could take for escape. During her Harvey Girl training, she’d fallen into bed so tired she’d barely had time to adjust the pillow. But today, her first as a full-time employee at the Grand Canyon’s El Tovar, she felt wide-awake. She lit the lantern and finished unpacking. After a few minutes, with nothing else to do, she sat on the bed, folded her hands, unfolded them, tried to still the fidgeting of her thumbs, and listened to the night noise.

  Alone. She felt so alone.

  Maybe she should have tried the entertainment room. Sparring with Michelle might ease some of the loneliness. But, no, tonight was not the night to start trying to win back Michelle’s friendship or, at least, defend her father’s honor. Tonight was for reflection and maybe even, as Mrs. Baudouin suggested, prayer. Olivia stood and walked over to Mary’s side of the room to take a closer look at the photos. Mary, along with Mr. Niles, had been part of the opening crew at quite a few Harvey Houses.

  Her perusal over, Olivia pulled off her dress and went to hang it up. The closet door was partially open. Funny, she remembered closing it, but maybe Mary had returned to the room. Reaching for a hanger, Olivia pushed one of the other dresses aside. The skirt flared out a bit, and Olivia looked down. She knew before she even grasped the material. Her “new” dress—dull, brown, and serviceable—was ruined. Someone had taken a knife, or a pair of scissors, and slashed the skirt into ribbons. A quick look proved the second dress butchered even more than the first.

  Olivia Prescott now owned only one “serviceable” dress. The one she had on.

  Chapter 4

  Wayne set down his favorite fountain pen and studied the three women in front of him. This was not the type of morning he’d envisioned. For the past week, he’d noticed how slow Olivia worked and planned to take her aside and discuss the note Ruth Owens had penned. He’d intended to urge her to work harder at both dealing with customers and dealing with her contemporaries. Instead, there were “issues” to deal with.

  “I tell you, I didn’t do it.” Michelle Harrison sputtered. Strawberry blond and freckled, with a hot temper, the woman fairly trembled with indignity. Her whole demeanor screamed innocence. On the other hand, Olivia displayed what he’d always identified in court as bottled anger. She was silent except for her eyes. Simmering rage threatened to erupt. Her demeanor screamed injustice.

  Mary O’Dell had marched the two girls in at first light. The destroyed dresses were flung over a chair by his office door. Olivia’s lips were pressed together so tightly only a straight line showed. Michelle’s lips were much the same.

  Wayne held up his hand, motioning Michelle to stop, and addressed Olivia. “When do you think it happened?”

  “A week ago,” Mary said indignantly. “And I just found out about it.”

  “It happened my first night here while I was out looking at the canyon.”

  Wayne picked up a pencil and some paper and jotted down the hours Olivia claimed to be at the canyon’s edge and Michelle’s response. He needed to keep a record. His eyes fell on Olivia’s file, still on top of his desk. Already the thickest of his crew, it was about to expand a bit more.

  “And did anyone see you cleaning your station?” Wayne asked Michelle.

  “Mary did!”

  Mary nodded. “I remember that night. I checked her station after nine and watched her leave.”

  “Anyone see you enter the dorm?”

  “Why am I getting all the questions?” Michelle argued. “Ask her some. Maybe she did it herself. Her Highness doesn’t want to face me every day and—”

  “Enough.” Wayne stood. “I’ll do a bit more checking. Michelle, I’d better not find even one person who remembers you disappearing from the restaurant floor.”

  “If I were to even think about destroying Olivia’s property, which is not something I’d do, I’d never have guessed those dresses were hers.”

  A distant whistle sounded, reminding Wayne the morning train was on its way. “Thank you for your time, Michelle.”

  She blinked, as if surprised to find him considerate.

  “Olivia, I’d like to speak with you for a few more minutes.”

  Michelle smirked and left the office followed by Mary. Olivia glared at him. He was tempted to stare her down. It was what he would have done in court. Could she be guilty of what Michelle charged? Had she ruined her clothes purposely?

  “What do you think happened?” He made his words gentle, soothing, hoping to gain her trust. If she thought him an ally, she might confess.

  “I think someone took a pair of scissors to my clothes.”

  “Who?”

  She rolled her eyes skyward. “Michelle is the obvious choice. She hates me.”

  “Michelle seems to have a decent alibi.”

  Olivia stood and said calmly, “Often criminals escape while the innocent pay.”

  He’d felt that same way for two years, but the lawyer in him—the Christian in him—knew she was wrong. “Your world is now the Harvey world, and you’re not getting off to a very agreeable beginning.”

  “You think this is my fault!” Her checks went red with indignity.

  Although Wayne tried not to notice, the blush only heightened her beauty. Her Elsie collar topped a neat black bow. The white ribbon in her hair made her innocent yet alluring. She’d look just fine sitting on the couch of a lavish New York apartment. His New York apartment.

  He shook his head of the ridiculous thought. She was a hothouse flower who probably didn’t travel well—amazing she’d made it this far. And thinking of New York and spacious apartments only made him long for a lifestyle no longer his. “Miss Prescott, your presence is causing dissension among my employees. My head waitress now has a roommate she doesn’t need. Michelle, who hasn’t had any problems, is accused of vandalism. Furthermore, the train is about to arrive and instead of filling saltshakers, I know half my employees are speculating about what’s happening in here.”

  “I didn’t want to report the incident in the first place.” Olivia’s chin j
utted out. “Mary made me. I can take care of my own problems.”

  She snatched up the dresses and stomped out of his office.

  Watching her go, Wayne tried to keep his smile at bay. She’d ruined a perfectly good morning, but she’d done it with style.

  Unfortunately, even as he smiled at the woman’s spunk, he realized his favorite fountain pen was missing.

  The dining room took up half of the hotel’s main floor. White tablecloths covered more than twenty round tables. Fresh flowers stood proudly as centerpieces. Shining silverware, fine chinaware, and sparkling crystal were set up for the morning arrivals.

  The clang of dishes, rumble of ice buckets, and murmur of conversation meant all was in place. Wayne walked through the dining room noting which girls were acting in leisure and which in haste. Most were standing at attention by their stations. Michelle wasn’t rushing, but agitation was obvious as she arranged cups and saucers on her tables. Sarah Jane looked poised for flight, and Wayne checked to see why.

  Olivia.

  Her station consisted of four tables, and only two were set up. Oblivious to her peers’ readiness, Olivia had the centerpiece pulled forward and was busy rearranging the flowers.

  “Miss Prescott!” The words came out harsher than he’d intended. They echoed through the dining room.

  Mary O’Dell looked up, let out a little screech, and hurried over. “We open in ten minutes,” she hissed as she guided the centerpiece back to the middle of the table.

  “But the flowers—” Olivia clearly wanted to continue rearranging as she pulled the flowers back toward her.

  Mary interrupted, “Were arranged by an expert.”

  “Then the expert is underqualified and overpaid.”

  “Look around you.” Sarah Jane joined them. She took the flowers, guided them back in the center, and hurried to Olivia’s third table. Her sister joined her, and soon the two had the table almost set up. Constance and Dinah finished the fourth table.

  Olivia looked up and blinked, and chagrin took over her features.

  Wayne thought about pulling Olivia into his office again. He could lecture her about time management and question her about his pen, but customers arrived, and Mary began seating them. First came a family of five. In Dearborn Station, where Wayne had trained, no men had been allowed in a Harvey dining room without a coat. The coat rule obviously didn’t apply here, or maybe it just wasn’t enforced. But then again, Arizona wasn’t even a state!

  Next came two young men who grinned foolishly at Michelle and made Wayne curious as to their relationship. Harvey Girls signed a contract stipulating they would not marry during their contract. In many locations they were the only decent women. Keeping them as waitresses and not wives was a nearly impossible task.

  An elderly couple took their seats. The husband chose where the wife would sit and then inspected the silverware. They reminded Wayne of his in-laws—who had been in charge of Esther for the last two years. One more week to go and he’d be off to New York to retrieve his daughter. He lived for that day.

  Daniel took the last seat at the table and glanced around the room as if searching for someone. Michelle took their orders while discreetly arranging their cups. Daniel’s, the father’s, and the elderly man’s cups faced up and soon were filled with coffee. The elderly woman’s cup faced down and received hot tea. The mother and two teenagers had cups left tilted against the saucer, which meant iced tea. The two children fiddled with their cups and moved them from their position, but Dinah, serving as “drink girl,” knew to give them milk.

  Constance entered the dining room carrying plates of thick steaks; some had also ordered eggs. Mabel placed a platter of hash browns on the table, and Sarah Jane followed with pan-sized wheat cakes, their aroma decrying the need for maple syrup.

  Other customers entered. Trailing after a party of seven, Robert Thatcher stared pointedly at Wayne. Dinah always tried to make sure she served the man, and if he didn’t pay his bill, she saw that the amount was added to his hotel costs. Some of the other girls weren’t so savvy. Mary O’Dell fed the man for free. Olivia, on the other hand, took a somewhat perverse joy in handing Wayne the bill.

  Niles came from the kitchen and began working the room. He shook the elderly man’s hand. Next, he refilled two glasses of tea before he took over the seating of customers and filled up three more tables. Finally, he took note of Robert, winked at Wayne, and with a flourish personally handed Robert his bill.

  As of yet, Robert hadn’t tried to pawn off his bill in Niles’s view.

  Wayne checked his watch. The train was due any minute. In Dearborn Station, the train meant business. At the El Tovar, the train just meant more business. One more sweep of the restaurant assured Wayne that everything was at the ready.

  The perusal had also netted him two more items of interest.

  Mary O’Dell stood immobile, staring across the room. The tea pitcher tipped slightly and dripped as she stared across the room at Niles and Olivia.

  Niles had his hand on Olivia’s shoulder and was complimenting the flower arrangements on her first two tables.

  Chapter 5

  Crossing the road from the El Tovar toward the dormitory, Olivia figured there were two things she wanted in celebration of completing her second week of waitressing.

  First, she wanted Wayne Gregory to crawl back under a rock. The ex-lawyer took every opportunity to make her feel useless. She didn’t move fast enough, she didn’t keep the food hot enough, and she didn’t give equal attention to everyone.

  He’d basically called her both inept and a snob.

  She was grateful he was leaving in the morning to get his daughter. She needed a break from his scrutiny. His face softened every time he mentioned Esther’s name. If not for witnessing the slight vulnerability, she’d believe Mr. Gregory wasn’t capable of love or kindness. He didn’t even know how to smile. Thank goodness for Mr. Niles. He smiled often, and he knew how to make a girl feel important. He had her come in early and rearrange the flowers. He sought her opinion on the layout of the gift shop. Moreover, he was impressed by the fact that certain customers already requested her station.

  The second thing she wanted was a different roommate—one who was willing to share and one who might even be inclined toward friendship. For the last week, Mary seemed to take some sort of joy in scolding Olivia while in the privacy of their room—where Olivia truly believed she should have some peace.

  Not that peace seemed obtainable. Tonight was yet another failing. She’d been the last one out of the dining room again. For some reason, she never finished at the same time as the rest of the waitresses, even though her customers usually cashed out early. Mr. Niles said it was because she was meticulous. Mr. Gregory muttered the dreaded word inept then added slow. At least her supposed snobbery couldn’t be blamed!

  Thankfully, Mrs. Brant, the hotel manager’s wife, had been in the mood for conversation and had helped finish up washing the ashtrays and sugar bowls, enabling Olivia to get to her room at a decent hour. Tonight the light was on. Most evenings, when they wound up together, Mary played show tunes on the phonograph—ruling out conversation—and sewed. Watching her tonight, Olivia again bit back the offer to help. Mary wouldn’t appreciate suggestions—not from Olivia, not from anyone.

  Laughter rippled outside. Olivia went to the window. Shadowy figures waltzed across the porch of the El Tovar. Pushing the curtain aside, she took a deep breath of pine, fireplace, and dust. A longing for something, someone, she couldn’t identify, plagued her.

  The phonograph whirred to a halt. Mary put down her sewing, walked over, and closed it down. Silence settled like a tight, restricting blanket. Olivia looked around for something, anything, to do. She’d already combined the two ruined dresses into one. It was serviceable and actually had a bit more flounce.

  Maybe she should reread the letter Mrs. Baudouin had sent, but she could recite it by heart: the housekeeper liked her new job but missed Olivia, liked Topek
a more than Prescott but wanted to return to France, and was still pressing the sheriff and Mr. Ennis to keep looking for Olivia’s father.

  In the whole world, the only person who missed Olivia was Mrs. Baudouin and maybe Mr. Ennis. But after her last meeting with him, he didn’t count.

  Mary cleared her throat and said accusingly, “You do realize you’ve been taking up quite a bit of Niles’s attention.”

  This wasn’t the first time Mary had brought up Mr. Niles or had referred to him as simply “Niles.” Olivia treaded carefully. “I know. I think he’s trying to save me from being fired. Mr. Gregory is not impressed with my performance.”

  Mary sniffed, as if Mr. Gregory’s opinion didn’t matter, or maybe the sniff was an agreement of Mr. Gregory’s assessment. “If you need assistance, I’m the one you should seek out—not Niles.”

  Not a chance, thought Olivia. She remembered the brisk manner with which Mary had taken over the tables that first day. Mary’s whole demeanor shouted that Harvey Girls were supposed to be all-knowing and not need supervision from anyone—not the head waitress and certainly not the manager.

  The silence in the room deepened. The window let in plenty of air, but the stuffiness of the room didn’t abate. Desperation, more than interest, inspired her to break the room’s silence. She had to succeed at this job—to survive and to locate her father. Getting along with her roommate would be a big step toward some semblance of normalcy. “Looks like you’re almost finished with that dress.”

  “I should finish tonight,” Mary said stiffly. “Did you know Mr. Gregory is holding church services starting the Sunday after this one?”

  The news came as no surprise. She’d heard the manager spout more than a few Bible verses. His knowledge of the scriptures didn’t impress her. LeRoy Baker owned a Bible and occupied pew space at the Prescott church. Attending the Lord’s house hadn’t stopped her father’s bookkeeper from embezzlement and possibly murder.