A New Beginning

by Amelia C. Adams

  * * *

  Elizabeth slid off the back of Tom’s horse, Ginny, and smiled up at Tom. “Thank you for the ride. I’m sorry for taking you away from your tasks.”

  Tom grinned. “You gave me the chance to get away from Miss Martin for a few minutes. I tell you, those eyes of hers are like daggers in my back. One little smooch on the cheek and she thinks I’m the devil himself. Anytime you need a ride, day or night, just let me know. And I’ll be here early in the morning to fetch you as well.”

  Elizabeth rested her hand on the saddle horn. “I’m very grateful that you’d do this for me, Tom. Have a good evening, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He gave her a friendly nod and remained outside until she had bolted the door. Then he wheeled the horse and rode back the way he’d come. Elizabeth watched him go through the window, a smile on her face. Harriet had been very hard on him—that was to be sure. Maybe with a little more time, the whole incident would blow over. Then she chuckled. With Harriet’s temper, it would take more than time.

  “Was that a man I just saw riding away from the house?” Agatha asked.

  Elizabeth sighed. She hated to tell her mother what had happened, but she knew that she couldn’t keep it to herself. The safety of her family was her first priority. She turned, took Rose from her mother’s arms, inhaled her baby’s sweet scent, and then said, “Come over to the fire with me, Mother. I need to tell you something.”

  Agatha’s face was awash with fear as Elizabeth told her about the loosened shoe and the men scaring the horse into a full run. “Mr. Brody arranged for Tom, our handyman, to escort me to and from the hotel every day. And he went to speak with the city marshal. He was still gone when I left, so I don’t know the outcome, but I believe he has everything well in hand.”

  Agatha shook her head, clearly in disbelief. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” she murmured.

  “I am all right. Oh, and I brought you something.” Elizabeth stood and fished in her large pocket, still holding Rose in her other arm. “Miss Hampton inquired after you again today, and she asked me to bring you this.”

  Agatha took the folded napkin and unwrapped the contents carefully. “Licorice sweets?”

  “She says they’re marvelous for a cough.”

  Agatha looked at the bundle almost reverently. “I haven’t had a licorice in so long.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “It’s about time then, don’t you think?” She left her mother to enjoy her treat while she changed and fed the baby. The events of the day had certainly rattled her, but here, with her family, she felt safe. It also did her heart good to know that Tom would fetch her in the morning, and that Mr. Brody was also doing everything he could. Mr. Brody. She smiled, and with that very pleasant thought in her mind, she set about making dinner with the last of their flour.

  * * *

  When Elizabeth heard the whinny of a horse outside the next morning, she smiled. Tom hadn’t been joking when he said he’d be by early. She gave Rose a quick kiss, grabbed her hat, and stepped out the door. But it wasn’t Tom who was waiting for her—it was Mr. Brody, on Cleophas.

  “Good morning, sir,” she said as she crossed the yard, tying her hat ribbons under her chin. “I was expecting Tom.”

  “I had some other things for Tom to do this morning, and I decided I’d like this opportunity to speak with you. I hope you don’t mind that I came myself.”

  “No, not at all.” Her stomach was a mass of knots, and for a moment, she wondered if maybe she did mind after all.

  Mr. Brody reached down, grasped her arm, and swung her up behind him in one fluid motion. “All settled?”

  “Yes, nearly.” She arranged her skirts more properly. “Now I am.”

  “Then let’s be off.” He spun Cleophas, and they cantered down the road. Elizabeth clutched Mr. Brody’s waist, wishing she didn’t have to hold him so tightly, but if she didn’t, she would fall off.

  “I hope you had a good night’s sleep after yesterday’s upset,” Mr. Brody called over his shoulder.

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “Where along this stretch did you hear the gunshots?”

  “I’ll show you when we get there.”

  She indicated where everything had taken place. Her hand trembled as she pointed, and she had to take several deep breaths to remain calm. Being here in this place again so soon after the fact was very difficult, but she had to move past this fear and these memories. This road was the only way into town—she couldn’t avoid it.

  Mr. Brody listened to everything she said and nodded, but he didn’t reply until they arrived at the hotel. Then he threw the reins to Tom and turned to face her. “Miss Caldwell, you are excused from hotel duties this morning. I have another task for you.”

  “Oh? What is that, sir?”

  “Come with me, please.”

  Elizabeth could barely keep up with his strides as he rounded the building. She finally picked up her skirts and trotted, feeling a bit ridiculous, but his legs were long and he moved quickly. He led her to a portion of the property she hadn’t visited before. It was back behind the smokehouse and the caretaker’s cottage, beyond a stand of apple trees. She imagined they were now on the very edge of the hotel’s property, and she could see nothing in front of them but acres and acres of dirt.

  “Miss Caldwell, I need to speak to you about a very serious matter,” Mr. Brody said, coming to a stop at last. “As I promised, I went down to the marshal’s office yesterday, and I spoke with Colonel Gordon. It appears that your two attackers are wanted men. In fact, a deputy from Wichita has been traveling around, looking for them.”

  “Wanted men? You mean, criminals?” Elizabeth had known they were dangerous, but she hadn’t realized to what extent.

  Mr. Brody held up a hand. “I should clarify—I’m not positive they’re the same men, but I strongly suspect they are. I spent some time talking with the shopkeepers up and down Main Street, and they don’t recall seeing those men in town until after the date when the wanted men disappeared. I’ve sent a telegram to the lawman from Wichita to ask for more information. Hopefully, his office will know where he is now and can relay my message. Perhaps he has a photograph or some other way we can identify them.”

  “That . . . would be a good idea.” Elizabeth’s mind whirled. “Just what are these men wanted for?”

  Mr. Brody hesitated. “Murder.”

  “Murder?” She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it all. She’d heard his words, but they didn’t seem real. “I see.”

  “I believe you do see, which is why I’ve brought you out here. Your safety is of the utmost importance, Miss Caldwell, and I plan to do something about that right now.” Mr. Brody slid his Colt from its holster and held it up. “Have you ever fired one of these?”

  Elizabeth moistened her lips, which had suddenly gone dry. “No, sir, I never have.”

  “I’m going to teach you how, and this afternoon, we’re going in to the general store and I’m going to purchase one for your use. You’re to keep it with you at all times. I mean that—no matter where you are, even here at the hotel.”

  “All right,” Elizabeth said after a long pause, even though she wanted to object. She had never even thought of firing a gun, let alone owning one herself, but as Mr. Brody spoke, she knew he was right. She couldn’t be too careful, not after what had happened the day before. And if there were murderers in town, and they were interested in her . . . “Did you happen to see those two men while you were talking to the shopkeepers?”

  “I didn’t, and no one else had seen them today either. I think they made themselves scarce after you got away from them. I’m not at all confident that they’ve left town, though, so we need to be as careful as we possibly can.”

  “I agree.” Elizabeth nodded once. “Tell me what to do.”

  Mr. Brody spent the next few minutes showing her how the Colt worked, how to load it, how to aim, and how to fire. This was obviously something that interested him, as
he even knew the history of the gun and how the mechanics worked. She paid close attention to the instructions, but she was acutely aware of every movement he made, his every intake of breath. He’d spent the entire day before doing something on her behalf. Yes, he was angry because someone had tampered with his horse, but he genuinely cared about her, and she was amazed. No one had ever seen to her needs like that, with the exception of her mother. She supposed he might have done the same for Harriet, or for Abigail or Jeannette, but then he paused, looked at her, and smiled, and she knew. Straight to her heart and into her soul, she knew. This man had feelings for her that went beyond his sense of duty to a waitress in his hotel.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?” The realization had struck her so hard, she had missed his question.

  He chuckled. “I asked if you were ready to give it a try. You must be more nervous than you’re letting on.”

  Nervous, and excited, and wondering what it all might mean . . . “I am, a bit. But I’m ready.”

  He handed her the gun and pointed straight ahead. “Your target is that tree.”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. The gun handle felt odd, foreign—she’d never even touched a gun, let alone held one to shoot it. She brought it up at arm’s length, as he’d shown her. It was heavier than she expected, and she immediately felt a pull in her arm muscles. When she pulled the trigger, she wasn’t expecting the recoil of the gun, and she was thrown backwards into Mr. Brody’s chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her cheeks flaming. She turned around, but couldn’t meet his eyes. “That didn’t go very well, did it?”

  “It was my fault,” Mr. Brody said, sounding amused. “I didn’t warn you. Plant your feet and brace yourself, like so.” He demonstrated. “And I suspect that you closed your eyes.”

  “I did flinch,” she admitted. “It was loud.”

  “Keep your eyes open. You need to be able to see the target if you’re to hit it.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would be helpful.” She blushed again.

  “Keeping your eyes open will also help you maintain your balance so you don’t go flying all over the place. I’m glad I was there to stop you—you might have ended up on the ground.” He grinned, readied the gun, and handed it back to her.

  “That would have been very amusing, I’m sure.” Elizabeth planted her feet and raised the gun again. She was not going to fail.

  This time, she stayed upright, and she was able to keep her eyes open. “I don’t think I hit anything,” she said, disappointed.

  “No, but your stance was much better. I think we should move in toward the tree. If you needed to fire your gun in self-defense, your attacker would likely be at much closer range.”

  They picked their way across the rocky ground several yards until Mr. Brody indicated that they were in the right spot. Elizabeth looked at the tree and tried to imagine it as a person. Could she really shoot a man, a human being? If her life were in danger, she would have to be able to make that choice in a split second, and she didn’t know if she could do it. If it were Rose’s life in question . . . She brought up the gun and fired without hesitation. Pieces of bark flew in every direction, and Mr. Brody clapped.

  “Excellent job, Miss Caldwell. Whatever you were thinking just then, when your eyes became determined, that is what you should think about every time you fire. I certainly wouldn’t try to cross you if I saw that look in your eye.”

  “Thank you. That was . . . kind of fun.” She surprised herself by saying that, but it was true. There had been a delicious rush of fulfillment in knowing she’d hit her target. She doubted she’d feel that way if she were to shoot anything but a tree, but it was nice to know that she could do this thing without flying backwards and making a fool of herself.

  Mr. Brody laughed. It was a warm, mellow sound that reminded her of cigars and brandy and sitting at her father’s knee in his study. That was a memory she had forbidden herself since his death, but now it came back full force. It was a pleasant memory, and she smiled.

  “I think you’ll do, Miss Caldwell. But let’s keep practicing, shall we?”

  Elizabeth’s aim improved and her confidence grew the more she fired the gun, but her arms were getting tired, especially the right one, and she was relieved when Mr. Brody called it quits for the day. “Come, Miss Caldwell. We have other things to do now.”

  They moved back toward the hotel. Elizabeth suddenly felt shy beside Mr. Brody—as if she had any right to be out walking with him. She purposely fell a step back, and that made her feel more comfortable.

  “Tom!” Mr. Brody called out as they neared the stable.

  “Yes, sir?” Tom came out of the building, a pitchfork in one hand.

  “Tom, did you hitch up my buggy, like I asked?”

  “It’s ready and waiting.”

  “Good. Come into the dining room, please.”

  Tom looked down at himself. “I’m covered in straw, sir. Miss Hampton would skin me alive.”

  Mr. Brody shook his head. “That’s what brooms were invented for, Tom. Dining room.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When they reached the door of the hotel, Mr. Brody opened it and motioned for Elizabeth to go through first. Then he called out in a loud voice for everyone to join him in the dining room. Within moments, all the hotel employees had gathered and arranged themselves in a straight line. Tom stayed on the end, nearest the door, and Elizabeth noticed how careful he was not to look in Miss Hampton’s direction.

  “Thank you for answering my summons, everyone. I have something for you I believe you’ll appreciate.” Mr. Brody strode over to the bookcase in the corner, pulled out a small stack of envelopes, and walked down the line, handing one envelope to each person. “You may find a small bonus in your pay this time around. I’m grateful for the hard work you’ve put in to get this hotel ready, and I feel confident that we’ll make a success of it.”

  Elizabeth held her envelope with trembling fingers. She had earned what it contained—she was now able to provide for her mother and her daughter. A deep feeling of satisfaction swept over her, even greater than how she’d felt when she shot that tree. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she now had the tools she needed to turn their situation around. “Elizabeth Caldwell” was written on the front of the envelope. She liked how her name looked in Mr. Brody’s handwriting.

  “We’ll be opening the hotel on Monday, the day after tomorrow, much earlier than I had first anticipated. Our draperies should be arriving by train in a few days, and in the meantime, we’ll make do. I’ve spoken with the station manager, and he knows we plan to be ready for Monday’s first train. He has agreed to point people in our direction, and Tom will be there as well, holding a sign. I’ll need you all ready bright and early, wearing starched white aprons, looking neat and comely. Tom, I expect you to look neat, but you needn’t plan on wearing an apron.”

  Everyone in the room tittered, and Tom grinned.

  “Miss Hampton, have the girls been trained how to serve?”

  “Yes, they have.” Her calm voice was the perfect counterbalance to the restrained excitement Elizabeth heard in Mr. Brody’s tone.

  “Excellent.” He smiled. “I’ll stop by the store and make sure our food order is arranged.”

  Miss Hampton nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

  Elizabeth glanced around the room. Everyone seemed eager. They’d put in the hours of scrubbing and repairing and trying to prepare themselves for every scenario, and now it was time to see if they could really do this.

  Mr. Brody cleared his throat, and the attention of the room was immediately back on him. “Now to discuss something else. Miss Hampton, have you told everyone about yesterday’s incident with Miss Caldwell?”

  Elizabeth’s cheeks immediately began to burn. She hadn’t expected to be the subject of a staff discussion. The door was too far away—she couldn’t slip out unnoticed.

  “I have told them,” Miss Hampton said. “Our deepest sympathies, M
iss Caldwell. That must have been a terrible thing to experience.”

  Elizabeth nodded her thanks.

  Mr. Brody clasped his hands behind his back. “It’s crucial that every young lady working here in the hotel—and living in the town—be on the lookout for these two men. If they were brazen enough to attempt such a thing on Miss Caldwell in broad daylight, who knows what other tactics they might employ. I’ve just spent some time teaching Miss Caldwell how to shoot a gun. I carry a firearm on my person at all times except when I’m doing manual labor. Tom also carries a weapon, and Miss Hampton has one as well. If anyone else would like to be trained, please speak with me, and I’ll see to it. There’s simply no reason why a lady should be at the mercy of any ruffian who crosses her path.”

  Harriet, Abigail, and Jeanette each nodded, their eyes huge.

  “Miss Caldwell, will you come with me? The rest of you, please continue with whatever you were doing.” Mr. Brody waited until the room had cleared out, and then he turned to Elizabeth. “I owe you an apology.”

  Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “An apology? I don’t understand, sir.”

  “When I saw the conditions of your home this morning, I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. As your employer, I have a responsibility to you, and yet, I never gave your situation a second thought. I just assumed you had what you needed. But your roof is in poor repair, and I imagine you’ve been counting on your wages for basic supplies. If I’d realized that, I would have advanced your pay. I should have been more attentive, but I intend to make up for it now. Tom has prepared the buggy, and we’re going shopping.”

  “Shopping, sir?” Elizabeth couldn’t decide which part of his speech had surprised her more.

  “You can hardly carry your groceries home on the back of a horse. Or do you have some special skills I know nothing about? That wouldn’t startle me, actually. You reveal new sides to yourself every day.”

  Elizabeth didn’t feel as though she had other sides—she felt bland and boring and very plain. If he chose to find her interesting, though, she wouldn’t make a fuss about it. “It’s true that I do need to purchase some groceries. Thank you for your help.”