An Unspoken Dream (Kansas Crossroads Book 13)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “After you’ve washed three hundred napkins in one afternoon, you might not feel that way about it,” Grace replied. “Why don’t you take a seat at the far table?”

  “Thank you. I will,” he said, and Grace turned to table number one.

  “Welcome to the Brody Hotel. May I take your order?”

  Chapter Five

  Gilbert finished his pie, then went back outside and waited for the young ladies. This was quite a nice piece of property—the stables were large, and there was an orchard in the back. He could make out a small stone cottage a short distance away through the trees. If he were to own a spot of land, he’d like it to look very much like this.

  After several minutes, the waitresses came outside, their arms full of laundry baskets, and Grace stopped short when she saw him.

  “I’m ready for the next batch,” he said, holding up his arms to show his already-rolled sleeves.

  “You can’t be serious,” she protested.

  “And why not?”

  “Because you’re a guest. It’s not done.”

  “You let me help you earlier.”

  “Yes, well, you caught me off guard and I was flustered.”

  “And you’re not flustered now?” He was enjoying this quite a lot. Her cheeks turned a delicate pink when she blushed, and it was a very becoming shade. He wondered what she’d look like in a lighter color and not in one of her dark work dresses. The black she wore now seemed too heavy for her. Blue, perhaps, or a pink that matched her blushing cheeks.

  “I . . . Mr. Howard, I thank you for your offer, but we’re no longer in a state of emergency, and so you’re free to go.”

  “It’s Gilbert, if you’ll recall, and I’m free to help you, aren’t I?”

  She gave him a look of utter exasperation. He couldn’t help it—it made him grin.

  “All right. If you’d like to help, you may. But the water’s hot now, so things aren’t going to be pleasant, and it’s sticky work. You may regret ever volunteering.”

  “You won’t hear a word of complaint out of me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “All right. You can begin by grabbing that bucket and using it to fill the washtub. Take the hot water from the cauldron and carry it over here.”

  It took four trips back and forth before the washbasin was filled to Grace’s satisfaction, and just as before, Gilbert noticed the girls casting curious glances at him. He supposed it was rather unusual for him to be out there helping them, but he didn't have anything else to do for a little while, and it felt good to be of use somehow.

  “Thank you,” Grace told him. “Now, please go through the baskets and separate the tablecloths from the napkins. Just throw the napkins straight into the washtub—we’ll start with those.”

  Gilbert couldn’t stop himself from casting glances at Grace as she worked. Her hair was coming loose from her bun as she scrubbed, and it fell around her face in enchanting ringlets. He shouldn’t be thinking that, though. He’d promised himself that he was done with the waitresses at this hotel—nothing good could come of it. But try as he might, he couldn’t talk himself out of finding her pretty, and smart, and interesting. And pretty.

  As they worked, one of the waitresses suddenly let out a gasp, and Grace dropped the napkin she was holding. “Nora, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” the girl said after a moment, but even Gilbert, as insensitive as he knew he was to others’ feelings, could see that she wasn’t.

  Grace stepped to Nora’s side and helped her into the hotel. Gilbert watched them go, then turned and threw the last of the napkins into the washtub.

  “I’ll take over here,” Posy said, coming to stand at the head of the washboard, and Gilbert nodded. Without Grace there, he felt like even more of an interloper, so he went back inside and up to his room, where he washed and changed to get ready for dinner with Stephen and Sarah that night.

  He smiled as he looked at the smudge of dirt on front of the shirt he’d just taken off. He’d never stopped to consider just how clothing got clean again. He’d always sent it off with the housekeeper and then became irate if it wasn’t returned as quickly as he wanted. Maybe he’d be a little more patient in the future now that he saw what all went into it.

  ***

  “I really think we should call Dr. Wayment,” Elizabeth said, and Grace nodded in agreement.

  “I’m sure I’m fine,” Nora protested. “It’s just a stitch in my side, and nothing more.”

  “But what if it’s not? If this is something more serious and you ignore it, you could be setting yourself up for a bigger problem later.”

  Nora seemed to think about that for a moment, then nodded. “All right, Elizabeth. If you think that’s best.”

  “I’ll ask Tom to go fetch him,” Elizabeth said, then stepped out of the office and down the hall.

  Grace turned to Nora. “Laundry is a heavy task. We should have given you something else to do.”

  “I can’t think of anything I could do that’s both useful and easy,” Nora said. “And I refuse to be an invalid. I mean to pay my own way around here.”

  “We’ll find things for you to do, lighter things that won’t be so difficult. Now come upstairs with me and we’ll get you settled in one of the rooms so Dr. Wayment can examine you. We don’t make him climb all the way up to the attic—we try to be a little kinder to him than that.”

  By the time Dr. Wayment arrived, Nora was lying on the bed in room two, as comfortable as Grace could make her. Jeanette, his wife and also his nurse, was a pretty girl who had been a waitress here at the hotel until she went off to nursing school. Grace had come here after that, so she didn’t know Jeanette well, but she liked what she saw very much.

  “Let me guess. It’s laundry day, right?” Jeanette asked.

  Nora nodded.

  “The hottest, most miserable task here.” She pressed a hand to Nora’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever, but you are overheated. Let’s loosen the top buttons on your blouse and get you some cooler air.”

  Grace opened the window, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself.

  “I’ll need to examine you,” Dr. Wayment said. “I know we went through this just the other day, but some things can’t be helped.”

  “That’s all right,” Nora said, sounding tired. “I understand.”

  After several minutes, Dr. Wayment nodded, a grim expression on his face. “The pregnancy is safe, but I can’t predict how long that might be the case. You need to rest until tomorrow, and then your duties must be very light. No lifting, bending, twisting, carrying . . . basically, don’t do anything a waitress at the Brody typically does.”

  “I’m not sure that’s helpful,” Jeanette said, smiling at her husband.

  “These are smart girls. They’ll figure out a way.” He packed his supplies back in his bag, and Jeanette turned to Nora.

  “Have you spoken to the pastor?”

  “No, not yet. I mean, I know you suggested it the other day, but I’ve been busy . . . and too ashamed.” Nora said the last words so quietly that Grace almost didn’t hear them.

  “I know. But I also know that the pastor is a good man, and he’ll listen to you with an open heart. I think you’d feel better once you unburdened to him.”

  Nora pressed her lips together and nodded. “All right. I’ll talk to him.”

  “We’ll be driving right by the parsonage when we leave here. Would you like me to leave him a note?” Jeanette offered.

  “You’re not giving me an excuse this time, are you?” Nora asked, a note of humor in her voice.

  “No, not at all.” Jeanette smiled. “If you’re anything like me, you’ll delay this until the very last second out of sheer stubbornness. But why put yourself through that when it might not be so terrible after all?”

  Nora sighed. “All right. Yes, please let him know that I’d like to see him. I would go there myself, but apparently, I’m supposed to be resting.”

  “Yes, on
your very mean doctor’s orders.” Jeanette cast a loving glance at her husband, and Grace smiled. The two had only been married a short time, and their love for each other was written all over their faces.

  “Yes, your very mean doctor,” Dr. Wayment agreed. “Send for me if anything changes—and I mean anything. And for the next day, if you leave this bed for any reason other than an earthquake or a fire, I’ll be quite annoyed.”

  Nora agreed to his terms, and the doctor and his nurse left. Grace sat down in the chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling now?”

  “I’m all right. Just very tired.”

  “Do you think you could sleep?”

  “Yes, I think I need to. Grace?”

  Grace paused in the act of standing back up. “Yes?”

  “When . . . when the pastor comes, will you be here? I know you better than any of the other girls, and this is going to be hard, and I really don’t want to be alone. What if there’s no forgiveness for me? What if I can’t ever come to church again or pray or . . .?”

  Grace reached out and grabbed her hand. “Don’t even think that way, Nora. I can’t believe that would happen. And of course I’ll be here.”

  “Thank you.” Nora squeezed her hand and gave a smile. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “You’re not,” Grace said honestly. Nora wasn’t any trouble, but she certainly was giving Grace cause to worry. So many things could go wrong with both the baby and the mother.

  “I think I’ll sleep now,” Nora said, and Grace nodded. Sleep was the best thing for her.

  Chapter Six

  Gilbert was waiting in the parlor when Grace came back down the stairs. She startled when she saw him—she hadn’t realized he’d be lurking around like that.

  “I hope nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I saw the doctor come and go.”

  “It’s not something I can discuss, but I believe everything will be all right,” she replied, then was immediately struck by a hollow feeling in the center of her chest. The truth was, she didn’t believe everything would be all right. Nora was too thin, she’d been through several emotional ordeals, and Grace wasn’t sure she was strong enough to carry this child. None of that, however, was something she would discuss with Gilbert Howard, who was not only a guest of the hotel and practically a stranger, but not known for being the nicest fellow.

  Although, she had to admit, he did seem to be quite a lot nicer than she remembered him from that winter. Could people really change that quickly, and would it be a genuine change or just on the surface?

  “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said, and she nodded. Then, to her relief, he bid her goodbye and left the hotel. She’d been worried that he would continue to ask questions, but he seemed to understand that she’d said all she possibly could. These were not her secrets to share, and he wasn’t the right person to share them with.

  She walked through the dining room, pleased to see that it was ready for the next and final meal of the day. Sarah and Ruth had the food laid out in the kitchen, and Grace inhaled. With so much upheaval, it was nice to see that everything was under control.

  “Grace, I’ve asked Elizabeth’s permission to sit with Stephen and Gilbert during dinner tonight,” Sarah said. “Gilbert has something he’d like to discuss with us.”

  “That sounds a little bit suspicious,” Ruth said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Well, she’ll be right here in the dining room, so if something untoward happens, she’ll be surrounded by witnesses,” Grace replied. “Just let me know if you need an extra hand in here, Ruth.”

  “I will. Sarah’s organizing things well, though. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  When the train arrived, Gilbert came back, along with Stephen. Grace saw Stephen kiss Sarah’s cheek, and then the three settled in at a table in the corner. She supposed that was so they’d be able to hear each other talk. The tables in the center of the room wouldn’t allow for much conversation at all.

  A moment later, Pastor Osbourne and his wife, Olivia, walked in. Olivia had also been a waitress at the hotel. Grace smiled to think of it. With all the turnover they had in employees, they certainly had a lot of stories to tell, and a lot of friends.

  “Will you be seated over here?” Grace asked, leading them to a table on the other side of the room. As they pulled out their chairs, she said in a lower voice, “Are you here to see Nora?”

  “We are,” Pastor Osbourne replied. “And to have a good dinner while we’re at it.”

  Olivia scowled at him. “What do you mean, a good dinner? You have to admit, I’m getting better all the time.”

  “You’re right, my love. The chicken you made last night was delicious. I meant to compliment the cooks here, not insult you.”

  She didn’t stop scowling. “Are you playing pastor on me, saying kind and loving words so I’ll stop being angry?”

  “Not at all. I’m playing frightened husband who would like it very much if you’d stop looking at me like you’re planning to murder me in my sleep tonight.”

  She laughed, and her expression changed. “Done. Grace, I hope you have corn bread tonight. I’ve been wanting some and still can’t figure out how to make it so it’s not as dry as dust.”

  “We do have it. What else would you like?” Grace took their orders and went into the kitchen with a smile. Olivia Osbourne was one of her favorite people—she never hesitated to say exactly what she was thinking. She just hoped that the Osbournes would say the words Nora most needed to hear.

  ***

  Gilbert offered Sarah a tentative smile. “How have you been? You look happy.”

  “I’m quite well, thank you.” She paused. “I noticed you sneaking through the kitchen a time or two on your way outside. Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  “Um, yes. I wasn’t sure if you really wanted to talk to me.” Gilbert shifted in his chair, feeling more uncomfortable than he had in some time.

  “I’m not an ogre, Gilbert. You could have said hello.”

  “I’m sure I could have. I was just . . . being a coward.”

  Her eyebrows flew up, and she glanced at Stephen, who seemed amused. “That’s quite the admission. Are you scared of me, then?”

  Gilbert toyed with his fork. “I’m apprehensive about your opinions of me. Opinions I’m very eager to live down.”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Gilbert—for a long time, you weren’t on my list of favorite people. But I’ve moved past all that, and I’m willing to start fresh. How about you?”

  The weight that had been pressing on Gilbert’s chest eased, and he smiled. “I’d like that more than anything.”

  “Good. Now that’s settled, and we can talk about the real reason why you’re here.” She sat back and looked at him expectantly.

  “Making my apologies is the real reason I’m here, but yes, I have another reason as well.” Gilbert turned to Stephen. “Have you told her anything yet?”

  “Not one word. I thought I’d leave that in your capable hands.”

  That was certainly reassuring. Gilbert cleared his throat. “Well, as you know, Stephen and I both worked with our father in the shipping industry. I’ve recently come up with the idea that we should start our own company here in Topeka and take advantage of the railroad hub this place is becoming.” He looked at Sarah’s face anxiously for a reaction. While he technically didn’t need her approval to enter into business with her husband, he knew Stephen wouldn’t do anything she didn’t like. Which meant that he needed her approval after all.

  She just nodded, which he took as a good sign and kept going.

  “I have the names and addresses of some of the customers we worked with at my father’s office, and Stephen asked me to draw up a letter of introduction we can send them to drum up business.” Gilbert pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it over to Stephen, who opened it and began to read. “I’ve also been to the bank, and they said they could probably help us pending a business plan a
nd some references. I’ve sent telegrams to some former business associates to ask for those references, and I’ve begun the business plan. Here you are.” He placed that sheet of paper within Stephen’s reach for when he was ready for it.

  Just then, Grace came up to the table. Gilbert’s heart gave a surprising extra thump, but then he realized she wasn’t there to speak with him, and he felt ashamed for hoping that she had been. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Sarah, could you step into the kitchen for a moment?” she asked.

  Sarah rose, and both men stood as well. “I should be right back,” she said, then followed Grace through the door.

  Gilbert and Stephen took their seats again. Stephen cleared his throat, then looked at his brother with a solemn expression. “I’m not sure this is the letter you meant for me to read.” He handed it back over.

  Heat flooded Gilbert’s face as he took the page. He’d accidently shown Stephen the letter from their mother instead of the letter he’d written for their potential customers. “I was going to share that with you eventually. Just not today.” He blew out a deep breath. “Here’s the real letter.”

  Stephen took it, but didn’t unfold it just yet. “I can’t help but wonder if Mother wasn’t a little too hard on you.”

  Gilbert smiled. “You always have wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt. No, she saw what I would become if I didn’t make some changes, and that’s what I hope to do. I’ll admit, it was like looking into a very unpleasant mirror.”

  “Mother has a flair for the dramatic. I think it’s good for each person to take the time to examine themselves and try to do better, but you seem to be taking this a bit too seriously.”

  “It’s one of the only things I’ve truly taken seriously in my life. I believe it’s about time.”

  Sarah came back to the table just then. “I’m sorry. There was a small issue in the kitchen, but everything’s fine now. What did I miss?”

  Stephen took her hand. “We were just catching up. Gilbert, were you able to find any sort of office space available?”