by Renee Ryan
He gave her a pleasant smile. “I would be delighted.”
“Yes, yes, off you go.” She sent him away with a distracted flick of her wrist.
Philomena gazed after him with a wistful expression.
Mrs. Singletary studied the young woman closely, then pressed her lips into a tight, determined line. Fanny feared the widow still planned to push a match between Jonathon and Philomena.
“Hopeless,” Fanny muttered under her breath.
“Did you say something, my dear?”
“No, Mrs. Singletary.” Fanny lifted her chin. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
“Not a thing. Your commitment to detail is much appreciated, Miss Mitchell. I predict this year’s ball will be spoken about long after the evening comes to a close.”
“That is the plan.”
“Yes, yes.” The widow patted her hand. “I wish to raise quite a sizable amount of money for the new kitchen at Charity House.”
Excitement spread through Fanny. “It’s a worthy cause.”
“Oh, indeed, it is.”
They shared a smile. Fanny volunteered much of her free time at Charity House. She was even contemplating starting a program at the hotel to provide work experience for the older children. She wished she could do more. The orphanage had molded some of her favorite people into men and women of strong, moral character.
The widow continued speaking. “I understand the majority of your family will be in attendance at my ball.”
Fanny’s smile widened. It had been years since so many Mitchells were in one place at the same time. “I’ve reserved rooms for them here in the hotel. My parents will be staying in the bridal suite.”
A gift from Jonathon. The dear, dear man.
Mrs. Singletary’s expression turned somber and she reached out to touch Fanny’s arm. “How is your mother managing these days?”
“Her asthma is much better.” Or so her father had claimed the last time he’d come to town. The worry in his eyes had told a different story.
Her mother, always so full of life and energy, had contracted asthma recently, a chronic disease that usually showed up in childhood, but was not uncommon to reveal itself later in life. Although the doctor said Mary Mitchell’s illness was manageable, Fanny still feared the worst.
Asthma was incurable. People had been known to die from a severe attack. Her mother suffered bouts regularly. Though hers were usually moderate in nature, stress brought on more severe symptoms. Fanny prayed the party didn’t cause her any additional strain.
“I look forward to catching up with her while she’s in town,” Mrs. Singletary said. “Your mother has always been one of my very special friends.”
“And you, hers.”
“Walk us out, Miss Mitchell.”
“Of course.” Fanny led Mrs. Singletary and Philomena to the front steps of the hotel, then bade them farewell. Back in the lobby, she fingered the guest list. This needs addressing immediately. She cast a surreptitious glance toward Jonathon’s office.
The door swung open and out walked the man himself.
Never one to put off an unpleasant situation, Fanny hurried over to meet him. Something in the way he held his shoulders caused her unspeakable concern.
Judge Greene forgotten, she touched her employer’s arm. It was barely a whisper of fingertips to sleeve, yet had the intended effect. Jonathon slowly looked down at her.
The moment their gazes merged, Fanny’s breath backed up in her throat. His face was like a stone, but his eyes were hot with anguish.
She tightened her grip. “What’s happened? Is something wrong with the hotel?”
“No, it’s my…” His words trailed off and his gaze fastened on a spot somewhere far off in the distance.
Her hand fell away from his arm. However, her resolve to ease his distress remained firmly in place. “Perhaps you would care to take a short walk with me?”
She spoke in a mild tone, the way she would when making the same suggestion any other time. They often took walks together, mostly when Jonathon required her opinion about some issue in one of his hotels.
“A light snowfall has begun,” she added, knowing it was his favorite time to be outdoors.
Hers, as well. There was nothing more wonderful than those precious moments when the world fell quiet beneath a blanket of fluffy white flakes.
Jonathon remained silent, his gaze unblinking.
“Come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the exit.
For several steps he obliged her. Just when she thought she had him agreeable to the idea of a brief stroll, he drew his hand free.
“Not right now, Fanny.” His voice was hoarse and gravelly, not at all the smooth baritone she was used to hearing from him. “I have another matter that requires my immediate attention.”
His deliberate vagueness put a wedge between them. She bit back a sigh. “I understand.”
In truth, she understood far too well. He’d shut her out. It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. Nevertheless, it stung to realize he didn’t trust her, at least not enough to share what had put him in such a dark mood.
Without a word of explanation, he turned to go, then just as quickly pivoted back around to face her. “I’m not certain how long I’ll be gone. I need you to see to any issues that may arise in my absence.”
“You can count on me.”
She didn’t attempt to pry for additional information. He would reveal whatever was on his mind when he was ready. Or he wouldn’t. It was a reminder of how little he trusted her concerning his life outside the hotel.
He’s not for you.
But there was someone out there who was; she sensed it as surely as she knew her own name. She simply had to trust the Lord would lead her to her one true love in His time. Patience, faith—those were her greatest tools.
“I’ll be here when you return,” she said when Jonathon made no move to leave.
He reached up and touched her cheek. The gesture was brief, yet so full of tenderness she thought she might cry. Did the man realize how good he was beneath that polished, unflappable exterior he presented to the world?
He would make a wonderful husband, and an exceptional father, if only he would allow someone—anyone—to squeeze through the cracks and into his heart. She wanted that for him, desperately.
“I count on you always being here when I return, Fanny.” His expression softened. “More than you can possibly know.”
With relief, she heard the message beneath his words. Jonathon relied on her above all others.
The thought should have made her happy, but instead produced a small stab of pain in the vicinity of her heart. The sensation felt a lot like loss.
Chapter Three
Later that same afternoon, Fanny found one excuse after another to return to the hotel lobby. If she was called away, she took care of the matter quickly and then hurried back to her post behind the registration desk. She was probably overreacting, but she couldn’t shake the notion that Jonathon needed her.
She knew the exact moment he reentered the hotel. Even if she hadn’t been watching for him, the air actually changed. The atrium felt somehow smaller, his presence was that large and compelling. Everyone else in the building faded in comparison.
Or maybe that was Fanny’s singular reaction to the man. None of the guests milling about seemed quite as captivated by Jonathon Hawkins as she.
Of course, she’d been watching for his return. Her concern had grown exponentially with each passing hour. Catching a glimpse of his face and the way he held his shoulders, she knew she’d been right to worry. He was still as distraught as when he’d left.
He hadn’t seen her yet.
She took the opportunity to study him without interruption.
His steps were clipped, purposeful, a man in complete control of his domain. But his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Fanny had never seen that look of raw emotion in his gaze before.
&nbs
p; Hurrying out from behind the registration desk, she cut into his direct line of vision.
His feet ground to a halt.
“Jonathon.” Unable to mask her concern, Fanny spoke his name in a rush. No good, no good. That would only entice him to put up his guard.
She adopted a breezy, businesslike tone and began again. “Tell me what you need. Name it and it’s done.”
He looked at her oddly, then cracked a half smile. “I appreciate the offer, but everything’s under control.”
She frowned at the rasp in his voice. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Go back to work, Fanny.” He shifted around her and continued on toward his office. Not sure why she couldn’t leave him alone, she grabbed her coat from behind the registration desk and then hurried to catch up with him again.
His pace slowed.
She easily fell into step beside him.
He cast her a sidelong glance but didn’t tell her to go away. Progress.
“You do realize, Jonathon, that you have the look.”
His footsteps stopped altogether. “What look?”
“Whenever something goes wrong in the hotel, a groove shows up right…there.” She pointed to a spot in the middle of his forehead.
A strangled laugh rumbled out of his chest. “You know me well.”
Not really. A mild glumness took hold of her. She didn’t know him nearly as well as she wished, but enough to know how to lighten his mood.
She took his arm and steered him back in the direction he’d just come. “The snow is falling and you owe me a walk. I’m even prepared.”
She gestured with her coat.
He stared down at her for an endless moment, so long, in fact, that she thought he might turn down her offer a second time in one day. But then he nodded and started for the exit with quick, even strides.
She had to break into a trot to keep up with him. Much to her relief, he slowed once they were outside.
They walked at a reasonable pace, falling into a companionable silence as they headed toward the heart of downtown Denver. The afternoon air was scented with fresh snow and a hint of pine. Fat, languid flakes floated softly around them, creating a surreal, almost wistful feel to the moment.
Fanny treasured these brisk walks with Jonathon, when it was just the two of them working out an issue in the hotel.
Although today she sensed the problem was more personal in nature. Something from his past?
She thought of what little she knew of his difficult childhood, so very different from her own. One of seven siblings, Fanny had been raised in a large, gregarious family on a ranch ten miles north of Denver. There’d always been plenty of food on the Mitchell table. Love and laughter had been abundant, as well, with the added bonus of parents who lived out their faith daily.
Fanny couldn’t imagine the hardships Jonathon had endured. The thought made her stumble. He caught hold of her elbow, letting go only when she regained her balance.
“I failed to ask you earlier,” he said, resuming his quick pace. “Did Mrs. Singletary have any questions about or concerns over the setup for her ball?”
“None. She seemed quite pleased with the preparations.”
“Good to know.” He drew to a stop.
Fanny followed suit.
Something quite wonderful passed between them.
“I appreciate you taking over in my absence with Mrs. Singletary.” He plucked a snowflake off Fanny’s shoulder, tossed it away with a flick of his fingers. “You always manage to make me look good. Thank you, Fanny.”
“It’s I who should thank you,” she countered, meaning it with all her heart.
Prior to working at the hotel, she’d been caught up in the various roles others had assigned to her. The dutiful daughter. The adored sister. The accomplished beauty. She’d found favor wherever she went, had never taken a misstep and certainly never let anyone down.
Perhaps that was why her family had been confused and deeply concerned when she’d broken her engagement to Reese Bennett Jr., a man they had deemed her perfect match. Though her parents had been quick to support her decision, her behavior had set tongues wagging all over Denver. The ensuing scandal had been nearly impossible to bear.
Jonathon had come to her rescue, offering her the opportunity to manage the registration desk at his Chicago hotel. She’d leaped at the chance to leave town. Or rather, to escape the gossip.
Fanny wasn’t particularly proud of her cowardice, but some good had come from her attempt to run away from the problem. She’d spent a lot of hours in her rented room in Chicago. After much prayer and soul-searching, she’d come to the realization that she was more than a pretty face, more than what others expected her to be.
Now, back in Denver once again, she would like to think she’d found where she belonged. At the Hotel Dupree. She knew better, of course. She loved her job, but…
Something was missing. Her very own happy-ever-after that four of her six siblings had already found and were living out on a daily basis.
Gazing up into Jonathon’s remarkable blue eyes, she felt a hopeless sense of longing spread through her. He’s not for you, she reminded herself. He doesn’t want what you want.
If only…
She knew better than to finish that thought.
As an uncharacteristic awkwardness spread between them, Fanny tried to think of something to say. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Philomena looked rather lovely today, don’t you agree?”
He cocked his head in a look of masculine confusion. “Mrs. Singletary always ensures her companion looks lovely.”
So, he hadn’t been especially taken by Philomena’s considerable charms. Inappropriately pleased by the revelation, Fanny resumed walking, her steps considerably lighter.
They turned at the end of the block and retraced their route. In the past, this was usually when Jonathon revealed whatever was bothering him.
True to form, he blew out a slow hiss of air. “It confounds me how someone can just show up, unannounced, and expect to be given whatever he wants without consequences.”
At the fire in his words, Fanny belatedly remembered the additional name on Mrs. Singletary’s guest list. “Did Judge Greene contact you directly?”
Jonathon’s face tightened at the question. “Are you saying he showed up at the hotel today, too?”
“No, I just assumed…” She shot a covert glance in his direction. “It’s obvious something is troubling you. I thought it might be because Mrs. Singletary added your father to the guest list.”
Jonathon stopped abruptly. “She what?”
Fanny sighed. “You didn’t know.”
“I did not.”
She sighed again. She knew about Jonathon’s personal connection to Joshua Greene only because the judge himself had told her. He’d misunderstood their relationship. Thinking they were more than business associates, he’d approached Fanny about setting up a meeting with his son. When Fanny had gotten over her shock and told Jonathon about the brazen request, he’d been furious. Not with her, with his father.
Her stomach dipped at the memory. “Would you like me to speak with Mrs. Singletary? I could explain the situation, you know, without actually explaining it.”
For a moment, Jonathon’s guard dropped and she saw the vulnerability that belonged to the boy he’d once been—the one who’d been summarily dismissed by his own father.
She thought he might share some of his pain with her, but his eyes became cool and distant. “Leave it alone,” he said at last. “Mrs. Singletary is allowed to invite whomever she pleases to her charity ball.”
They finished the rest of their walk in silence.
At the hotel entrance, Jonathon stopped Fanny from entering by moving directly in front of her. “Before we go in, I have a request.”
She blinked up at him. “You know you can ask me anything.”
“Have you secured an escort for Mrs. Singletary’s ball?”
“I
…no.” She shook her head in confusion. “I have not.”
“Good, don’t.”
“Is…” She cleared her throat, twice. “Is there a reason you wish for me to attend the ball alone?”
His lips curved into a sweet, almost tender smile. “You misunderstand. I don’t wish for you to attend alone.”
Oh. Oh, my. Her breath backed up in her lungs. “No?”
“I would like for you to attend with me.” The intensity in his eyes made her legs wobble. “What do you say, Fanny? Will you allow me to escort you to the ball Friday evening?”
Her head told her to refuse. This man was her employer. He’d vowed never to marry. He didn’t want children. No good would come from forgetting those very significant points of contention between them.
But then he took her hand.
She felt dizzy, too dizzy to think clearly. Surely that explained why she ignored caution. “Yes, Jonathon, I would very much like to attend the ball with you.”
*
The following morning, Jonathon stood outside his office and tracked his gaze over the crowded hotel lobby. No matter what tactic he employed, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on the scene in front of him. His mind kept returning to his conversation with Fanny after their walk.
He should not have asked her to Mrs. Singletary’s ball. He knew that, but couldn’t seem to regret doing so.
He enjoyed Fanny’s company. Probably more than he should. Certainly more than their business association warranted. From very early on in their acquaintance, she’d made it clear what she wanted out of life—a satisfying job, marriage, children, a home of her own. Jonathon could give her only one of those things, the job.
But there were plenty of men who could give her the rest, some of whom would be in attendance at the ball tomorrow evening.
Fanny, with her luminous smile and stunning face, would enchant each and every one of those potential suitors. She was unique. Special. The kind of woman a man wanted to cherish and protect, always.
Something unpleasant unfurled in Jonathon’s chest at the thought of her sharing even one dance with someone, anyone, other than him.