“Are you going to write to your parents and tell them where you are?”
Harriet nodded. “I will, after a bit. I want to see Jane first, now that I know where she is. I’m afraid my father would come charging up here and drag me back home quicker than I could spit if he knew where I was, and I can’t go home until I’ve done what I came here to do.” She wiped her eyes and stood up. “Let’s go help with that laundry. I don’t want the entire burden to fall on Abigail and Jeanette.”
Elizabeth stood too, and wrapped her arms around Harriet’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through. Thank you for sharing it with me—I’ll keep your confidence.”
“Thank you. I’ll go work out my angst on some tablecloths, and all will be well.” Harriet followed Elizabeth down the stairs, a plan forming in the back of her mind.
* * *
Tom White had traveled around the area quite extensively, and Harriet figured he must be good for something. No creature was completely without a function or God wouldn’t have created them. After the last bit of linen was hung to dry—Harriet’s two spare dresses dangling near them—she crossed the lawn and approached Tom where he worked on repairing a bit of sagging fence next to the barn.
“Mr. White,” she called out. “We’re done with the laundry.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll come put out the fire.” He took off his hat and ran his arm across his forehead, making his straw-colored hair stick up. “Was there something else I can do for you, Miss Martin? You’re looking at me all expectant like.”
Harriet nodded. “You’re rather well traveled, Mr. White. Have you ever been to Salina?”
“I have. I was there for a bit before I came here. Nice place, good folks. Why are you interested in Salina, Miss Martin?”
“I have a friend out there I wish to go visit. How far is it from here?”He scratched his head, then replaced his hat. “It’s a little over a hundred miles, I’d say.”
“That far?” Harriet shook her head. “I meant to ask Mr. Brody for some time off so I could pay this visit, but I can’t imagine he could spare me for long.”
“It is a fair piece, but not impossible. A few days to come and go by train should do it, and however long you want to stay there, of course. I’d be more than happy to escort you, if you could stand my company.”
Harriet put her hands on her hips. “Escort me? As though I need escorting? Need I remind you that I traveled all the way from Atlanta to this very hotel, by myself, without an escort, and managed it quite well?”
“Miss Martin, the South is a rather genteel place, and all the areas around here are nice and civilized. The farther west you go from here, though, the rougher it gets. You’ve got down-to-earth railroad men far away from home who’ve probably never seen anything as pretty as you before, and they’re liable to lose their heads and say something inappropriate. I wouldn’t feel right about sending you out that way by yourself.”
“And you think I’d be safer with you? I hardly think so, Mr. White.”
He took a step toward her. “I think it’s time for you and me to get something straight, Miss Martin. Yes, I made a foolish mistake the day we met, and my ma would have turned me over her knee for it. But there’s not a dishonorable bone in my body. It’s true that I’ve never sat down to have tea in a fancy parlor wearing one of those tall hats like Mr. Brody wears when he’s aiming to impress someone, but I’m a gentleman at heart, and if you’d care to take a look at me sometime, a real look, you’d see that for yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fire to put out, and I believe I just heard the train whistle. Good day, Miss Martin.”
Tom moved off toward the laundry area of the yard, and Harriet just stood there, her jaw slack. She honestly had no idea what to say or even to think.
Chapter Four
Tom White got practically no sleep that night, and he was plenty ornery the next morning. Miss Martin’s green eyes had haunted him every time he tried to drift off. There was something about her that had gotten under his skin, like an itch right in the middle of his back that he couldn’t reach.
The day they’d met, she was standing by the water pump, filling up a bucket. For the smallest of moments, he thought she was his old sweetheart from Wichita, and he’d slipped his arms around her waist and given her a kiss on the cheek. He’d figured out in a right hurry that he had the wrong woman and had been trying to make up for it ever since, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how it felt to hold her in his arms. He’d chided himself many a time for it, but how could he help it? She was soft and sweet, and she smelled like the lilacs that had grown outside his mother’s kitchen door when he was a boy. Even the slap she’d given him across the face didn’t take away from her appeal—in fact, he liked her better because of it. She was like the zing in a lemon tart.
And now she wanted to run off to Salina all by herself. He shook his head as he snapped his suspenders into place over his loose white work shirt. She might be an incredibly strong woman, but that didn’t make it all right for her to go gallivanting off like that. Some of those men she might encounter would take far greater liberties than just a quick kiss on the cheek, and Tom would be danged if he’d let anything like that happen to her.
He climbed down from the loft and crossed the yard to the back porch of the hotel. He’d brought over the shipment from the train station the day before, as promised, but things had gotten so busy that he hadn’t had the time to unpack those crates. They had a few hours before the next train—now was as good a time as any. He grabbed a crowbar and got to work on prying up the first lid. Ah, these were the new tablecloths and napkins. He knew the ladies would be glad to see these.
Miss Hampton stepped out onto the porch. “Good morning, Tom. Have you had your breakfast yet?”
Tom shook his head. “Not very hungry, Miss Hampton, but thanks. I’m fine until lunch.”
“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll set aside some cinnamon bread for you in the pantry.” She took a step closer and peered into the crate. “The linens! Thank goodness. Abigail?” she called over her shoulder. “Come help me, please.”
The two women gathered up the linens and carried them inside while Tom opened the next crate. The other girls joined him on the porch, and within just a few minutes, everything had been carted off. Harriet—er, Miss Martin—wouldn’t meet Tom’s eyes as she accepted a stack of napkins from him. Their hands brushed, and he felt a jolt rush up his arm. She felt nothing, or at least, she showed nothing. He had probably just imagined it anyway.
“All right, ladies, have fun with your new pretties.” Tom gathered up the lids and hauled them back across the yard and into the barn. He’d stack them in the corner—they might come in handy. He broke down the crates into slats and hauled them off as well. Then he grabbed his tools and headed back across the yard again to take up his second project of the day.
When Adam Brody bought the hotel, he hadn’t planned to get married—at least, not right away. But now he needed an addition on the side of the building. He’d told Tom that he couldn’t expect Elizabeth to live in his tiny room behind the office, and he wanted some separation between himself and the rest of the hotel. Tom had gladly agreed to build on and create a family suite that was accessed through Mr. Brody’s office. That would give the couple the privacy they desired. He knew it wouldn’t be done before the wedding, which was now just a few days away, but he could get a good start on it.
The first task would be to decide where to place the door. He felt along the outer wall and tapped on it here and there to find the support studs. Ah, there was the perfect place. He made a mark on the outside wall, then stepped back to survey. Nodding with satisfaction, he grabbed his ladder and began to climb. Everything would go exactly as he’d planned it out.
The hotel was two stories with an attic, but here, over the office, it was just one story. He didn’t know if this part had been added on later or was just built shorter to begin with. When he r
eached the roof, he lifted a few of the shingles. He intended to affix a beam here in this corner to begin the framework for the new rooms. But as he lifted the corner, he noticed something, and paused.
The wood under the shingles was rotting through.
He pulled back a few more just to verify. Sure enough, the roof structure wasn’t sound, and he certainly couldn’t build out from an unstable source. It would be a waste of time, effort, and money—he’d just be going back up there in a year to repair all the damage caused since.
“Mr. Brody isn’t going to like this,” he said under his breath as he climbed down the ladder.
* * *
Mr. Brody looked up from his desk as Tom rapped on his open office door. “Come in, Tom. How can I help you?”
Tom walked into the room and stood in front of the desk, hooking one thumb through his suspender strap. “I’m afraid I have bad news, sir. The roof of this office wing is rotten under the shingles.”
Mr. Brody glanced up, as if wondering if he could see the damage from where he sat. “How extensive is the repair going to be?” he asked.
“I won’t know until I’m up there pulling off the rest of the shingles,” Tom replied. “But I definitely can’t even start building your family quarters until that’s all fixed.”
Mr. Brody sighed. “We’ll do what we must, but I didn’t want to disappoint Elizabeth.”
“She’s a very practical woman, sir. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“That she is. I just wanted her to have a place she could call her own. Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now but to solve the problem. I knew when I bought this place that it would be a never-ending source of surprises. Tell me what we need to do next.”
“Well, I need to climb back up there and start taking off the shingles. I’ll go as far back as I need to in order to find where all the damage starts. Then we’ll repair the roof and lay new shingles, and then I can start the addition.”
Mr. Brody nodded. “Why don’t you get started on that right away—don’t worry about the train this morning. If anyone needs help with their luggage, I’ll take care of it. I’d like this project to be your top priority.”
“All right, sir. I’ll let you know as soon as I have an idea how much work we’ll need to do.”
“Very good. If we need to hire a few extra men to help you out, just say the word, and I can also lend a hand in the early mornings. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Mr. Brody.” Tom nodded once and left the office. That was one of many things he liked about Mr. Brody—he was always willing to get his hands dirty if that’s what was needed. Sure, he wore nice suits and hats, but he’d get down in the dirt and work up a sweat just like any other man.
Now that Tom thought about it, some fresh cinnamon bread did sound good. He detoured past the kitchen and found the plate Miss Hampton had left for him. Rather than eating in the kitchen or taking the plate outside with him, he gathered up the four slices in his hand and turned to leave, coming up short as Miss Martin entered the room in his path.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, stepping to the side to let her through.
“No, excuse me,” she replied, giving him the same wide berth.
It would have been easy for him to go out the back door without saying another word, but he paused. “Miss Martin, I’m sorry.”
She turned to look at him, surprise on her face. “Beg pardon?”
“I was trying to convince you that I was a gentleman, but a gentleman never would have talked to you like I did. So I’m rendering my apologies and hope you’ll accept them.” Only then did he duck out the back door. He’d now done everything he could. If she chose to be as stubborn as a mule in molasses, there was nothing he could do to stop her.
Chapter Five
“Who’s the prettiest baby in the world? Who’s the prettiest?” Elizabeth cooed as she finished changing Rose’s diaper. The baby smiled and kicked, and Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, that’s right. It’s you.”
Agatha smiled from the rocking chair in the corner. “You’re both thriving,” she said, her knitting growing still on her lap. “This place has been good for you.”
“It has. And Adam has been good for us.” Elizabeth scooped the baby off the bed and nuzzled her close. “Just a few more days, Mother. Can you believe it?”
“I can. It will be a lovely day.” Agatha’s eyes grew dreamy. “This is the life you were always meant to have—a good, kind husband at your side. I’m sorry you had to travel such a rough road to get here.”
Elizabeth smiled as she gave the baby one last squeeze and laid her in the cradle. “The road was very rough, but the destination made everything worth it. I’d better head down—I promised to help set up the dining room.”
She kissed her mother’s cheek and then left the hotel room they shared. As she pulled the door closed, she encountered Miss Markham, who was walking down the corridor.
“Good morning, Miss Caldwell,” she said, pausing. “The most curious thing. I thought I heard a baby crying in the night.”
“I do apologize for that. Rose doesn’t sleep through quite yet.”
“Oh? And who is Rose? Your niece, perhaps?” Miss Markham raised an eyebrow.
Elizabeth held back a sigh. Once she and Adam were married, they planned never to tell anyone their wedding date and how it happened to occur three months after Rose’s birth. Rose would know that Adam was not her father, but she would be raised with his name and with all the love and consideration he could possibly give her. In the meantime, a few more of these awkward moments must be had. “She’s my daughter, Miss Markham. I trust you slept well otherwise?”
Miss Markham raised the other eyebrow. “The room was adequate for a little place out in the middle of nowhere. I imagine that after things are up and running, Adam will be making some changes. He showed me around the property yesterday—he’s got quite a large piece of land here, and I’m sure that with some proper encouragement, he’ll be able to make something nice of it.”
Elizabeth glanced down at Miss Markham’s dress. She’d chosen a cream flounced day dress accentuated with small bits of lace between each flounce. It was entirely inappropriate for Kansas, but Elizabeth wasn’t about to say anything. Let Miss Markham experience the joys of shaking dust out from between each and every one of those folds of fabric. It would be enjoyable for Elizabeth to watch.
“Adam has great plans for this place, but none of them involve creating a New York-style hotel, Miss Markham. He’s more interested in comfortable hospitality and giving his customers a place where they can feel at home. Our most popular dish is a brown beef stew and a loaf of warm bread. When we stir up some honey butter, there really is nothing more anyone could want.”
Miss Markham nodded. “I’m sure that’s all well and good, but with the proper encouragement, he could do so much more.”
Elizabeth was not fooled by this woman’s soft tone. She’d known people like this—several, actually—and she was not about to allow this farce to continue for one more moment. “That’s the second time you’ve said ‘with the proper encouragement,’ Miss Markham. Your words are flowery and meant to conceal your true meaning, but I see right through you. You’ve come here with the intent of winning Adam, and you were not pleased to find that he’s getting married on Saturday. You believe yourself the only one capable of giving him that ‘proper encouragement.’ Do I understand you correctly?”
Miss Markham’s face went blank, and then contorted into a sly smile. “I must give you credit, Miss Caldwell. I admit, that’s exactly why I came here. I’ve always wanted to be Adam’s wife. He was never meant to be with Vivian, and he’s certainly not meant to be with you. I have a few days remaining before it’s too late, and I intend to spend that time showing him all the ways in which I am by far the superior woman. A week from now, you and your child will be out on the street—which, I imagine, is where you belong.”
Miss Markham took a step as if to continue toward th
e staircase, but Elizabeth moved into her path. Her rage was boiling beneath the surface, but when she spoke, her voice was controlled. “There’s one thing you should know, Miss Markham. I’m not the type to play games, nor am I the type to roll over and play dead. I’ll not stand by and watch as you try to coerce my fiancé away from me. Rather, I’ll tell him exactly what you’re up to, and you will be the one to leave. I’ve seen women like you in action, and I have no tolerance for any of you. It’s time for you to make a choice. You can have a pleasant visit with us here in Topeka before you return home to New York, or we can have a very unpleasant conversation with Adam, and he can be the one to oversee your return to New York. Either way, the outcome is the same—you are leaving, and I’m marrying Adam Brody.”
Miss Markham opened and closed her mouth a few times, then turned on her heel and strode back to her room. She slammed the door, and Elizabeth smiled. She had made her point quite well.
* * *
Elizabeth stood at the base of the ladder and shielded her eyes from the sun. “Adam told me about the roof,” she called up to Tom. “What do you think so far?”
Tom yanked another shingle free and tossed it to the ground below, then came down the ladder and leaned against it. “It’s not good, I’m afraid. All those years of neglect have really caused a problem. I think I’m going to need to tear off the entire top layer and redo it. I’m really sorry, Elizabeth—I wanted to get this built for you.”
Elizabeth reached out and touched his arm. “Please don’t worry about it, Tom. Just do what you can, and when it’s done, I’ll be all the more grateful for it. I suppose we shouldn’t have planned such a quick wedding.”
Tom grinned. “I wouldn’t postpone a wedding if I had a fiancée like you, Elizabeth Caldwell. Mr. Brody would be a fool to let too many days go by without putting a ring on your finger, and if there’s one thing I know about Mr. Brody, it’s that he’s not a fool.”
A Free Heart Page 3