Inherited

by Gabrielle Meyer

  Pascal sat poised for action. He would need to saddle Jude’s horse and put a few things in his saddlebags, including Jude’s pistol.

  “Actually, there is something you could do,” Jude said. “Would you mind taking over behind the desk for Pascal? He has a few things he needs to take care of.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Pascal and then back at Jude. He could tell she wanted to ask about Pascal’s business, but since she was a lady, she’d probably refrain. “Of course.”

  “Good.”

  Pascal moved away from the counter and immediately walked toward the back of the hotel. After so many years with Jude, he knew what was needed.

  “How is the meeting?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It’s going well.”

  “Will you be forming a vigilance committee?”

  “Yes.”

  She paused for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Will it be safe?”

  He wouldn’t lie to her. “Probably not.”

  She looked down at the counter and moved something from one spot to another. “Will you try to be safe?”

  Was she worried about him? The thought made him smile. “Of course I’ll try to be safe.” If a vigilance committee worried her, what would she think if she learned he was about to enter a brothel to try to rescue a woman?

  She dropped her gaze again. “I’ll pray for you.”

  Martha had said the same thing to Jude countless times—but, for some reason, it felt like an entirely different matter to have Elizabeth’s prayers covering him. “Thank you.” He hated to leave her, but he needed to get back to the meeting and hurry things along so he could get to Crow Wing.

  He walked away, but turned to look at her one more time.

  She was watching him and her cheeks filled with color at being caught.

  What was happening between them? Whatever it was, it must stop before one of them was hurt...or disillusioned.

  * * *

  Elizabeth smiled politely at the two men standing on the other side of the counter, though she didn’t want to encourage them.

  “Ah, Miss Elizabeth.” The one named Hank put his hand over his heart. His curly blond hair made him look younger than he probably was. He was cute, to be sure, but he couldn’t be a day over seventeen. “Why won’t you marry me? I know I ain’t got much more than the clothes on my back, but what more do two people in love need?”

  “A house, a little furniture, maybe a meal once in a while.” Elizabeth had grown used to men like Hank. Almost every day she turned down one marriage proposal or another. “As much as it breaks my heart, I can’t marry you.”

  “What about me?” the one named Alphonse asked. He was tall and gangly with jet-black hair and eyes to match. “I got me a little money saved up to buy a cabin and a piece of land. I could provide real nice for you.” He looked at her with such longing, Elizabeth truly felt bad.

  “I appreciate the offers, gentlemen, but I’m staying right here with my sisters.”

  Hank slapped Alphonse on the shoulder. “That’s it. Let’s go ask Miss Grace again.”

  “Grace is in the dining room,” Elizabeth said, only too happy to send them on their way. Grace didn’t seem to mind the attention or the marriage proposals. She’d received even more than Elizabeth, and hadn’t turned anyone down yet. Instead, she pretended to consider each one. It remained to be seen if she’d accept any she’d received.

  Elizabeth still had the list of men she considered suitable for Grace. Ben and Roald were on the list, though Grace had shown no interest in either one. The other three were men who had respectable jobs, attended church and appeared to be gentlemanly in all respects. Grace never once turned her attention to any of them.

  Hank and Alphonse left the lobby and passed Pascal in the hall as he walked toward the front counter.

  “I’m all done, Miss Elizabeth,” Pascal said. “I can take my spot again.”

  “We had one guest register.” Elizabeth pointed to the large book they kept on the counter for their guests to sign in. “I put him in room eighteen.”

  Pascal nodded and resumed his seat on the stool.

  The sitting room door opened and Jude led the way out of the meeting, deep in conversation with Abram Cooper.

  Ben walked out behind them, his gaze meeting Elizabeth’s. His eyes filled with delight at seeing her and he crossed the lobby. “Hello, Elizabeth. I’ve been hoping to get a chance to speak with you.” He stood before her with his hat in his hands, a gentleman in every way. It endeared him to her all the more. “Do you have a moment?”

  “If you’re done in the sitting room, we can meet in there.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Jude stood by the front door and said goodbye to all the others as they left. He barely glanced at Elizabeth and Ben as he turned toward Pascal. “Are my things ready to go?”

  “Are you leaving?” Elizabeth asked.

  Jude looked back at her. “I am.”

  “It’s late. Will you be back tonight?”

  He paused. “I’m not sure. I hope so.”

  “A routine run?” Ben asked.

  “Yes. Up to Crow Wing.”

  Ben studied him for a moment. “Do you need help?”

  Help? Elizabeth looked between both men. Why would Jude need help?

  Jude shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.” He turned to Pascal. “Are my things ready to go?”

  “Everything’s waiting for you in the barn.”

  Jude nodded once and grabbed his hat. He tipped his head at Ben and Elizabeth, and strode down the hallway out of sight.

  Ben watched him for a moment and then opened the door into the sitting room.

  Elizabeth walked in, her thoughts jumbled. Was Ben aware of Jude’s mysterious activities? Would Ben know what the note meant that she had put in her trunk? If Ben knew what Jude did, and he seemed to approve, was it all that bad?

  Ben followed Elizabeth into the sitting room and motioned to one of the chairs. “Would you like to sit?”

  She took the chair across from the sofa and he sat facing her.

  He clasped his hands together and looked everywhere but at her.

  Was he nervous? Why?

  Unless...was he going to be like all the others and speak of love and marriage? She would much rather spare him from disappointment.

  “Ben—”

  “Elizabeth—”

  They both paused and he smiled. “Go ahead,” he said.

  His brown eyes sparkled with pleasure at seeing her, yet there was no heat or hunger in his gaze, not like the others who had asked to speak to her. What if he wasn’t going to talk of love and marriage? Would she embarrass herself if she brought it up?

  “No, you go.” She sat up straighter and braced herself for whatever he had to say.

  He nodded. “I’m not practiced at these sorts of things, but Jude encouraged me, so I thought I’d give it a go.”

  “What sort of thing did you have in mind?”

  “I admire you, Elizabeth, and I would like to get to know you better. Would you allow me the honor of calling on you?”

  It wasn’t a marriage proposal, thankfully, but it was still more than she was willing to grant.

  She moved to the edge of her seat, hoping to turn him down without hurting his pride. Nerves bubbled in her stomach, because despite the fact that she had refused dozens of men, she liked and respected Ben more than all the others. She couldn’t agree to a courtship, but she hoped to preserve their friendship—and maybe she could encourage him to court Grace.

  “I’m honored by your request and flattered that you would want to get to know me better. I’d like the same thing.”

  He unclasped his hands, his face shining, so she continued quickly.
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  “However, I would like to get to know you as a friend and nothing more. It bears no reflection on you, but I’m simply not interested in a romantic relationship. I want to focus on the hotel and raise my sister, nothing more.”

  Ben offered a disappointed smile, but he didn’t look defeated. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  “I would like to be friends, though.” She smiled and hoped she conveyed the truth behind her words.

  “Of course.”

  “And...” She was even more nervous now than before. “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Anything.”

  “My sister is a lovely woman...” She wanted to tell him that Grace would be honored if he asked her to call, yet she couldn’t make such a statement in all honesty. She had no idea what Grace wanted and that was part of the problem.

  “She is a lovely woman.” He smiled and stood. “I won’t take up more of your time.”

  She also stood and watched him move toward the door.

  “Ben.” She said his name softly.

  He stopped and looked back at her.

  “I truly meant what I said. I’d like to be friends.”

  Ben put his hat on and nodded at Elizabeth. “I would, too.”

  She followed him out of the sitting room and into the lobby.

  “Goodbye, Elizabeth.” He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Goodbye.” The door closed and she stood in the lobby alone with Pascal.

  She felt bad about Ben and she hoped he would take the hint to call on Grace...but at the moment her thoughts returned to Jude and his mysterious whereabouts. “Pascal, where did Mr. Jude go?”

  Pascal looked up from whatever he was working on. “Mr. Jude likes to keep his business to himself.”

  “Yet you know where he went.”

  “I do, because Mr. Jude trusts me and I help him when I can.”

  “He can trust me,” she said with a smile. “You can, too.”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Elizabeth sighed. It was beyond time to ask Jude some questions. As soon as he returned, she’d do just that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elizabeth stood at the window facing the back of the hotel and looked out at the stormy night. Rain pounded against the side of the building and lightning flashed across the sky. A crack of thunder tore through the air and reverberated through her chest. She watched as Jude pulled the barn door closed and splashed through the puddles to the back door.

  It was after three in the morning and she had not been able to sleep. But it wasn’t the storm that had kept her awake. It was concern for Jude. She had wrapped a robe around her body and come to the window to watch the western sky. That’s when she’d spotted Jude plodding down the alley on his horse. What errand had required his immediate attention and why in the middle of the night?

  She stood for several minutes, watching the storm, expecting to hear him trudge up the back stairs to go to his room. She was ready to confront him, ask him to be honest. After all, if they were going to be partners, she needed to know if his personal affairs would hurt or hinder their business. The note in her trunk demanded answers once and for all.

  After ten minutes, Elizabeth grew impatient. The wind continued to rattle the windowpanes and the rain slashed against the siding in wave after wave.

  A soft noise rose above the sounds of the storm—one she would never have expected at such a late hour.

  The piano.

  Not wanting to see Pascal, who sat at the front counter, Elizabeth took the back stairs and made her way along the dark hallway on the main level. The sound grew louder as she walked past the dining room and toward the parlor off the ballroom. She’d only been in there once or twice and had glanced at the piano, but thought nothing of it.

  With a trembling hand, she turned the knob and pushed open the door just enough to look inside.

  Jude sat on the piano bench, his wet hair falling over his forehead and his white shirt clinging to his skin. His suit coat was flung over the back of a chair nearby as he played the most beautiful rendition of “Amazing Grace” she’d ever heard. His eyes were closed and his hands moved with amazing speed and dexterity across the keys. Every inch of his body was engaged in the song and he swayed with the movement of the melody.

  A flash of lightning lit the room and then died down, allowing the light from the fireplace to flicker over his handsome face once again. Rain pattered against the window, matching the steady tempo of her heartbeat.

  On and on the song went. His face was filled with such pain and heartache, yet there was an overwhelming sense of joy and hope radiating from his fingertips.

  Amazing grace how sweet the sound.

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost but now I’m found.

  Was blind but now I see.

  The last note echoed in the room and he slowly opened his eyes, pulling his hands away from the piano keys.

  Their gazes met as another flash of lightning filled the room and faded away.

  She hated to break the still moment with words, but she couldn’t hold back her praise. “That was beautiful.”

  His thoughts were imperceptible as he stood and walked around the piano. “Did I wake you?”

  She wanted to enter the room, but her hair was unbound and she wore a nightgown, though she was modestly covered with her robe. No. She should stay where she was. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Why not?”

  She had told herself that she couldn’t sleep because she was angry with him for keeping a secret from her. But truth be told, she couldn’t sleep because she needed to know he was safe. Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth. If she did, he might suspect that she cared for him more than she ought—and that would not be good for their working relationship.

  The fire crackled and popped, sending smoke spiraling up the chimney.

  “The storm...” Her words died off as she met his handsome gaze. She couldn’t lie to him. “And I was worried about you.”

  His eyes softened at her admission.

  She couldn’t allow her thoughts—or his—to wander down the wrong path. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

  Jude ran his hand along the piano, but instead of joy, something unpleasant passed over his countenance. “I taught myself.”

  She blinked several times, surprise washing over her. “That’s incredible.”

  “It was necessary.”

  “Necessary?” She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  Jude sighed. “I need to tell you something, Elizabeth. Would you like to sit with me for a moment?”

  He indicated the two sofas in front of the fireplace.

  She shouldn’t enter a room with him at such a late hour, with no chaperone—but she knew in her heart of hearts that Jude was trustworthy. She walked across the room slowly, her nightgown billowing out around her legs as she took a seat on the sofa.

  He sat across from her, studying her. He didn’t speak for a moment, but then he leaned forward and clasped his hands. With another sigh, he dropped his gaze. “I prayed about telling you the truth all the way back from Crow Wing. I told God I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to risk losing your respect. But He kept prompting me, so I told Him I would only tell you if I had a moment alone with you. Since we have so few of those, I didn’t think I’d have to tell you for a long time.” He stopped and looked up at her. “But I’m sensing this moment was orchestrated by Him and I need to be obedient and tell you.”

  Elizabeth swallowed the nerves climbing up her throat. What could he say that would make her lose respect for him? She tried to keep her face clear from any thoughts or emotions that would give away her trepidation.

  Jude stood
and walked to the fireplace. He took the poker and repositioned the logs. Sparks jumped in the air and coals cascaded down the pile. He placed another log on the fire.

  “I won’t try to make this sound any better than it is.” He took a deep breath and then faced her. “I was born in a brothel. My mother was a prostitute and I never knew my father.”

  Elizabeth held her breath for a split second and then her lips parted and the air escaped on a gasp. She stared at him, unsure how to respond.

  “I learned how to play the piano at the age of ten because I was afraid the brothel owner would kick me out when I was old enough to work on my own. He needed a piano player to entertain his customers while they drank and gambled, so I became the best piano player around. I wanted to be irreplaceable. I did it so I could stay close to my mother and help her if she needed me.”

  He looked back at the fire and pushed one of the logs with his boot. “I wanted to earn enough money to buy a home for us and remove her from the life she hated.” He was quiet for a moment. “She died when I was twelve. I kept playing the piano, because I had no other skills. No schooling. Nothing I could rely on to make a way for myself.”

  Elizabeth stood, her heart racing at the revelation. She didn’t know how to feel or what to think. She wanted to be repulsed, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel that way about a boy who’d had no choice about where he was born or who his parents were. She pictured herself at the age of twelve, her mother and father keeping her safely ensconced in a loving home. He’d never known such care and comfort.

  She wanted to reach out and offer it to him now, but he looked into the flames, his pain and loneliness making the lines of his body sag, and she sensed he wasn’t finished speaking.

  “I needed you to know, because I don’t want to try and keep it hidden anymore.” He finally looked at her and she could see sadness in his eyes. “If we’re going to be business partners, then we need to be honest with one another.”

  She needed him to know she understood—as well as she could at the moment. It would take time to process this information, but how could she lose respect for a man who had pulled himself out of the mire of his childhood and made something of his life? Her heart broke for him as a child. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up the way he had.