by Regina Scott
The judge raised a brow but otherwise didn’t pry.
Which was why Seth felt obliged to expand. “This hotel job in Turnabout, Texas, is what will help me finalize the deal. I just need to wrap things up by the end of the year. My bonus, along with hiring the right person to serve as hotel manager, will seal the deal.”
And he would get both done before year’s end.
No matter what it took.
* * *
An hour later, Arthur Madison stood at the window, watching Seth walk away. It was satisfying to see how far the young man had come in the eleven years he’d known him. From a determined but untrained scrapper to a competent man of business. To see him on the road to becoming a business owner in his own right was quite gratifying.
But even though he had the utmost respect for Seth, he also worried about him. He’d long suspected the most crippling scars Seth bore were not the physical ones responsible for his limp. He only knew bits and pieces of Seth’s history, but he’d never doubted what an inherently good person the young man was. Then again, his opinion was colored by the fact that he’d first met Seth when the then eighteen-year-old had saved his life, at considerable risk to his own.
Now it was his turn to save Seth.
Seth’s entire focus was aimed at showing the world he was as good as any man who could walk unhindered. He was driven to the point that he didn’t seem to know how to enjoy what he already had. Someone had to give him a nudge in the right direction before it was too late.
And if he could help a certain young lady in the process, so much the better.
Arthur glanced again at the letter on the corner of his desk. Abigail was the opposite of Seth in many ways—sweet, optimistic and a bit naive—but she was also intelligent, spirited and had a mind of her own. Like Seth, she also needed a bit of a push to set her feet on the right path.
The plan forming in his mind could be described by some as meddlesome. But he’d employed a similar tactic with his granddaughter six years ago. That had worked out even better than he could have hoped. Could success repeat itself? After all, just as with Reggie and Adam, he would merely set the stage. The rest was up to them.
Speaking of setting the stage... He sat, then reached for a pen and paper.
My dear Abigail...
“How is the hunt for a job going?”
Abigail Fulton grimaced as she set her letters and parcel on the pharmacy counter. “I’ve checked with nearly every business here in Turnabout and no one is hiring.”
Constance Harper, her best friend, gave her a look that seemed equal parts sympathy and amusement. “Surely you’re exaggerating. I can’t believe you checked with every business in town. For instance, you never checked with me.”
Just this week, Constance’s long-held dream had come true when Mr. Flaherty had retired and turned over the keys of the apothecary shop to her.
Abigail patted her friend’s hand. “Don’t even think about offering me a job. You can’t afford to hire me, not for a wage that would allow me to move into the boardinghouse.”
Constance gave a reluctant nod then smiled. “Give it time, something will come up.”
“That’s just it—I’m running out of time. I absolutely have to move out of Everett and Daisy’s home by the end of the year.”
Constance’s expression turned skeptical. “Has Everett or Daisy said anything to make you feel unwelcome?”
“No, not at all.” Not yet anyway.
Living with her older brother had been fine when Abigail was fifteen and Everett was single. But she was twenty now and Everett had a wife and two children. Lately, she’d begun to feel she was taking up much-needed room. Better to work this out herself than to wait for them to bring it up themselves.
“Daisy and Everett are expecting another child.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Constance’s smile faded. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course. They’re wonderful parents and have enough love to encompass a houseful of children.” Abigail sighed and leaned her elbows on the counter. “But I can’t justify taking up a room in their home any longer.”
Constance frowned thoughtfully. “Actually, I’d think having you around to help would be more important than ever now.”
Daisy ran the local restaurant and Everett produced the town’s newspaper. Abigail helped out where she could, which was her way of repaying their kindness to her.
“I’ll still help when I’m needed, of course. But it’s past time I get out on my own and gave them the space they need. I just need to prove to someone that I’d make a good employee.”
“Of course you would.” Constance sounded almost indignant.
It was easy for her friend to feel that way—she had an important job and was a respected businesswoman.
“After all,” Constance added, “You’ve been running the town’s only library since you were fifteen years old.”
Abigail waved a hand dismissively. “It barely makes pin money, certainly not enough to allow me to support myself.” Then she fingered her collar. “Actually, there is a job coming available that would meet my needs.”
Constance eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t sound happy about it, whatever it is.”
“I ran into Hilda Burns earlier. Seems she and Joseph Melton are engaged. And they’re planning a Christmas Eve wedding. Which means, come mid-December, Mrs. Ortolon will be looking to hire someone new.”
Hilda’s job consisted mainly of cleaning and cooking at the boardinghouse and using her “free time” to run errands for Mrs. Ortolon. Not only was the work near-drudgery, but it was common knowledge what a hard-to-please employer Mrs. Ortolon could be.
Constance apparently sensed something of her feelings because she touched her arm sympathetically. “You don’t have to decide immediately. You have two and a half months to find something else. Think of it as a last resort.” She paused a moment. “When is the baby due?”
“February.” Abigail lifted her chin. “All right, I either find something else, or the boardinghouse job it is.” She firmly believed there was always a way if one looked hard enough. She need only convince one local businessman she could bring something to his business he hadn’t realized he needed. It would take a bit of imagination, but she was convinced she could find her niche if she just looked hard enough.
Time to change the subject. She touched the parcel she’d set on the counter. “I have something here from Judge Madison.”
Constance shook her head. “It’s beyond me what you two can have to say to each other. I can’t think of a thing you have in common.”
Abigail grinned. “I’ll have you know we enjoy a very lively correspondence on a wide variety of subjects.”
She’d first written to Judge Madison when she learned how he’d given her brother his second chance, a chance that brought him to Turnabout. She’d wanted to thank him, tell him how well it had turned out, and let him know it had given her a fresh start as well.
To her surprise, he’d written back and they’d enjoyed a regular correspondence ever since. She found him charming, intelligent and quite intriguing. Even though they’d never met face-to-face, he’d become like the grandfather she’d never had. And her letters to him had become almost like entries in a diary, sharing hopes and dreams she didn’t tell anyone else.
“It looks like it contains a book of some sort,” Constance observed.
Abigail frowned. It wasn’t unusual for Judge Madison to send her books. In fact, ever since he’d learned about her subscription library he’d periodically sent books from his personal collection. But in her last letter she’d asked him not to send her any more—she simply didn’t have room for them. Had he forgotten? Or simply not believed her?
“Let’s see.” She opened the parcel and her breath caught. It was a copy of Bi
rds of America by John James Audubon. “Oh, Constance, look.” She stroked the cover, anticipating the beauty of the images inside. Perhaps she could find room for one more book...
It took her a moment to notice there were also two letters in the parcel. The first had her name on it, the second had the name Seth.
“Who’s Seth?” Constance asked.
“I have no idea.” Curious, she set aside the book and second envelope, then quickly unfolded the one with her name.
My Dear Abigail,
I will dispense with the normal pleasantries because I have a business proposition for you and I want to get right to it. As you know, I invest in properties from time to time. I recently became aware that the Rose Palace Hotel was on the market. So yes, I have bought the place.
She looked up at her friend. “He’s bought the Rose Palace from Mr. Crandall.”
“I didn’t even know it was for sale. Mr. Crandall must be planning to accompany his sister to Chicago when she goes to the hospital there.”
Abigail nodded and turned back to the letter.
The current owner is already in the midst of enlarging the facility, which suits my needs. I have noted the growth Turnabout has undergone in recent years and I believe this will be a good investment. I am sending Seth Reynolds, an acquaintance of mine, to oversee the remainder of the work.
Abigail glanced at the second envelope. That must be who this was for. But why send it to her?
Here is where my offer comes in. I want to hire you to take charge of the decor, matters such as paint colors, wallpaper, curtains and the like. I would also like you to assist in the interviewing and hiring of new staff. I’m sure your familiarity with the local citizenry will prove invaluable.
In return, I am willing to provide you with something that will solve a problem you are facing. You mentioned that your library had outgrown its space in your sister-in-law’s restaurant. So, as payment for your assistance, I will allocate a room on the hotel’s ground floor to permanently house your library, free of charge.
I have not yet mentioned your involvement to Mr. Reynolds since I was unsure of your response. If you agree, please give him the enclosed note when he arrives as it will explain matters to him. If you decide to decline, simply send me a wire saying so and there will be no hard feelings.
I don’t know the exact date of Mr. Reynolds’s arrival, but it should be within a few days of your receipt of this letter. He has one small task to complete for me and then will head your way.
On a side note, I have decided to spend Christmas in Turnabout with my granddaughter and great-grandchildren. I look forward to finally meeting you in person.
So much good news, it was hard to take it all in.
She would have willingly helped the judge for free. But to have a new place to house her library was exciting!
And she was finally going to be able to be of service to the man who had done so much for her family.
And she’d also have the opportunity to meet him in person when he came for Christmas.
To know that he trusted her to handle the furnishings and decor of his hotel was gratifying. It was a big responsibility but she was absolutely determined to do him proud. Besides, it would be fun. She was already thinking of possibilities.
And then there was Mr. Reynolds. If he was anything like the judge himself, it would be a privilege to work with him.
Since Mr. Reynolds’s arrival date was uncertain, she’d make sure to meet every train coming from that direction until he arrived—the man deserved to be greeted properly.
In the meantime, she’d learn what she could about the hotel—perhaps she’d write a piece for the Gazette about the history of the establishment and the renovations taking place.
And the judge’s letter had given her an idea for how she just might solve all her problems.
“Well?”
Abigail glanced up at Constance, who was not so patiently waiting for an explanation.
A big grin slowly spread across her face. “I think I may have just found the answer I’ve been looking for.”
* * *
Seth shifted, leaning a shoulder against the train window, trying to get more comfortable. The conductor had assured him the stop for Turnabout wasn’t much farther, thank goodness. He was eager to get started on this new job—the sooner he completed it, the sooner he could finalize the deal on the Michelson property and get on with the rest of his life.
He stretched out his left leg as much as the space allowed. Sitting for such a long time tended to tighten up the muscles around his old injury.
He glanced across the aisle and noticed the boy perched there appeared fascinated by his cane. The lad reminded him of Jamie, at least in appearance—the same dark hair, brown eyes and sturdy build. But that’s where the similarities ended. This boy had that fearless air about him, that buoyant spirit reserved for the very young or very innocent. It was something Jamie no longer seemed to possess.
Losing your parents at such an early age did that to a child. As Seth knew only too well.
The shrill train whistle sounded. Finally!
Seth straightened in his seat as he waited for the train to pull to a stop. Then he grasped his cane, using it to lever himself upright. As expected, he found himself leaning on the silver-topped device more than he liked. Experience told him it would be hours before his cramped muscles eased. But he was used to such inconvenience and wouldn’t let it slow him down.
Grabbing his valise with his free hand, he headed for the exit. As he carefully stepped onto the platform, Seth assessed his surroundings. The depot was a midsized painted structure fronted by a wooden platform with three benches lined against the building. A freight wagon waited at the end of the platform, no doubt ready to take on cargo from the train.
There were people on the platform but it wasn’t crowded—nothing like the bustling throngs he’d waded through when he departed the Philadelphia station.
One person in particular drew a closer look—a young lady in a bright blue dress whose hair was an interesting shade of red. But that wasn’t what had snagged his attention—it was the bright, hopeful look she wore, her air of pent-up excitement, as if she was meeting someone she couldn’t wait to see. A family member? Or a sweetheart?
What would it be like to have someone waiting for him with such happy anticipation?
He impatiently shrugged off that fanciful thought and moved toward the depot. The first order of business was to acquire directions to the hotel. He’d just step inside and ask—
“Excuse me, sir, are you by chance Mr. Seth Reynolds?”
Startled, Seth turned to see the young redheaded woman focusing on a balding gentleman who’d just stepped off the train.
The man she’d addressed gruffly dismissed her. “Sorry, young lady, but you’re mistaken.” With a tip of his hat, he walked away.
The woman sighed and turned back to the train.
Why was she looking for him? She appeared too young to be Judge Madison’s granddaughter. But he must have arranged to have someone meet him. It was both unexpected and unnecessary. But he couldn’t just leave her standing there.
Seth steeled himself to ignore the pain in his leg and took a firm step in her direction. “Excuse me.”
She turned and met his gaze. The impact of her bright blue eyes startled him. A stray curl had escaped the confines of her pins and fallen over her forehead. For just a moment he had the absurd desire to tuck it back in for her.
“Yes?”
Her question brought him back to himself. Taken aback by the undisciplined direction his thoughts had taken yet again, he tugged sharply at one of his cuffs. “I couldn’t help but overhear you just now. I’m Seth Reynolds.”
“Oh.” For a moment, all she did was stare.
Which gave h
im time to study her. Hair the color of mahogany and blue eyes that held a touch of green. Her clothes were well made but not the height of fashion. She wasn’t a beauty in the traditional sense—her mouth was a little too large, her forehead a bit too broad. But there was something about her...
When the silence drew out, he gave a sardonic smile. “I take it I’m not what you expected.” Was it the cane that had tied her tongue? Had the judge not explained?
His words brought a touch of color to her cheeks. “My apologies. It’s just, Judge Madison said you were a friend of his, so I assumed you’d be nearer his age. But that was silly of me. I’m sure he has friends of all ages. Just look at me.”
Definitely not the man’s granddaughter then. “So, you’re a friend of Judge Madison’s? Did he send you to meet me?”
She waved a hand, smiling as if he’d said something amusing. “Not exactly. But I couldn’t let a friend of the judge’s show up with no one to welcome him. So I’ve been meeting trains ever since I got his letter.”
Was the woman always this chatty?
Then she gave him another friendly smile. “Actually, he’s hired me to help with the renovations at the Rose Palace. You and I will be working together—isn’t that wonderful?”
She delivered that bit of information as if she thought it would make him happy.
It didn’t.
Copyright © 2017 by Winnie Griggs
ISBN-13: 9781488017964
His Frontier Christmas Family
Copyright © 2017 by Regina Lundgren
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