A New Beginning

by Amelia C. Adams

  “It’s not entirely selfless of me—I promised I’d check on the food order, and this way, I can keep my promise while accompanied by a very charming companion. Let’s go.”

  Tom was waiting for them outside next to the buggy, and he gave Elizabeth a hand up. Mr. Brody seemed perfectly at ease driving his own rig rather than having Tom do it for him, and they were off. The store wasn’t far from the hotel, and it almost seemed silly to drive such a short way, but there would be packages to carry, so Elizabeth supposed it was a wise choice.

  She made her selections quickly while Mr. Brody spoke with Mr. Appleby, the merchant behind the counter. She chose out all the special ingredients her mother would need to make the cake, and then concentrated on the staples—flour, sugar, coffee, tea. A sudden thought overtook her, and she ducked between two shelves and pulled out her pay envelope. She had no idea how much money she had to spend. Her eyes widened when she saw that she’d been given three dollars more than she expected. Bless Mr. Brody for his generosity.

  “Miss Caldwell?”

  She stuck her head out from between the shelves. “Yes?”

  Mr. Brody walked toward her, a curious look on his face. “Were you hiding?”

  “No, sir.” She glanced around frantically. “I was inspecting these harnesses,” she said, pointing at the nearest object.

  Mr. Brody raised an eyebrow. “I see. Would you mind coming over here a moment? We need to choose a gun for you.”

  She had nearly forgotten all about that. “Are you sure I need one? It seems like such an expense, and the men will have moved on by now, won’t they?”

  “And who are we to say that you won’t have problems with someone else in future? Consider it a good investment on my part. I don’t want to be replacing my employees once every season, do I?”

  “No, I suppose not.” She followed him over to a counter in the back of the general store, where Mr. Appleby was more than happy to show them what he had in stock. Mr. Brody looked everything over and then held a Colt toward Elizabeth.

  “Put this in your hand, and let’s see if it’s a good match.”

  She took the weapon as instructed, but she wasn’t sure if it was a good match or not. She wasn’t used to holding a gun, so it would feel awkward to her regardless.

  “I think this one will do,” Mr. Brody said. “And now there’s the matter of an account for Miss Caldwell.”

  “An account? But I was just going to pay for my goods with the cash from my wages,” Elizabeth protested, gesturing toward her pile of chosen items.

  Mr. Brody turned to her with sharp eyes. “Miss Caldwell, do you mean to tell me that your wages will cover everything? You’ve just arrived in town, you’re setting up housekeeping, who knows how far you traveled to get here, and you feel that your wages will take care of every need you currently have?”

  “Well, no.” Elizabeth glanced down at the floor. Rose would soon need dresses, and she wanted to knit her mother a new shawl, and . . .

  “Allow me to set up an account for you here at the store. Get what you must have to settle in, and pay it off in increments. I will guarantee the account.”

  As good as this sounded, she was still undecided. “Are you sure? I’ve always believed in paying as you go and not incurring debt.”

  “I believe that’s a fine idea, and you’re smart for feeling that way. But I also believe that it’s important to meet your needs. And lest you feel that I’m playing favorites or being inappropriate in any way, I plan to set up an account for every employee of the hotel as well.” He fixed her with that curious look again. “Are we agreed?”

  She nodded once. “We are agreed.”

  “Then please, take a look around. Are there any other goods you need today?”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and added a few more things to her pile, including the wool she would need for her mother’s shawl. She would get the fabric for Rose’s dresses another day, when she felt she had more time to choose without being watched. It was better than Christmas, even if Mr. Brody did make a very unlikely Santa Claus. She did the math in her head—she had spent less than her wages, which made her happy, and she could still use the account in future if she needed to.

  “Mr. Appleby, do you have any milk, or know of someone who sells it?” she asked the man behind the counter.

  “If I hear right, you’re just out of town on this same road, right, Miss Caldwell?”

  “That’s right.”

  “There’s a farmer out there by the name of Smith. He has a few cows, and he sells the milk for a fairly reasonable rate. He brings some in here ’bout daily—in fact, I’m expecting him soon. Would you like me to ask him to pay you a visit? He’s a very polite fellow—shouldn’t be a bother.”

  What a relief. “I’d appreciate that a great deal, Mr. Appleby. Thank you.”

  “Not a problem at all.”

  Another difficulty solved. If one more thing went right this day, Elizabeth felt sure her heart would burst.

  * * *

  Adam pressed his lips together, trying to contain his amusement. Miss Caldwell reminded him of a little girl brought into a candy store and told to choose whatever she liked. He could tell that she was trying to make her selections carefully, and he approved. The rich remained rich through frugal living.

  “I believe I see the makings for a cake in that pile,” he said, eyeing her purchases with interest. He loved cake.

  “My mother has a wonderful recipe, and I told her we should celebrate our good fortune,” Miss Caldwell replied.

  “Will you save me a slice?”

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  Adam waited until her back was turned, then asked Mr. Appleby to put an extra bag of flour and pound of butter in with her order. It would be a little surprise when she got home—hopefully, a welcome one.

  Everything was loaded into the buggy, and Adam flicked the reins. It wasn’t far to her house, but he was reluctant for the day to end. He allowed Cleophas to walk, not even shaking the reins more than what was necessary to keep them moving.

  “You grew up in New York, Miss Caldwell?”

  “I did. My father was a banker, and we had a lovely home.” Her tone became nostalgic. “I remember curling up next to the fireplace in the evenings to do my schoolwork. He’d sit in his leather chair and smoke his cigar, and it was all very comfortable.”

  He could almost see her as a young girl at her father’s knee. The vision was very appealing. “And then what happened? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—perhaps I’m being nosy. I do have that way.”

  “No, it’s all right.” She seemed to gather her thoughts. “My father died of a heart complaint when I was thirteen. I miss him terribly.”

  “And it’s just been you and your mother ever since?”

  “Hmm.” She made a noncommittal humming sound, which Adam found odd. “I have brothers and sisters who are all older than me. They’d moved away by that point.” Then she turned to him with a bright smile. “Mr. Brody, thank you so much for today. Your kindness has been more than I ever could have expected or imagined.”

  “It’s been my pleasure entirely.” More than he could have expected as well.

  “What about you, Mr. Brody? How did you come to live in Topeka?”

  He should have expected the question—after all, he’d asked about her. He put his feelings of awkwardness away. “I, too, was born in New York, although not right in the city. We had a farm on the outskirts, a nice, sprawling place with horses that we hooked to sleds in the winter and went on rides across the snow-covered hills. Last year, I experienced a series of losses, and after a short time of feeling very sorry for myself, I decided I’d like a fresh start, and I came out west. I stopped off here, saw the mansion, and began having wild ideas for its transformation. You know the rest.”

  “A series of losses? Or perhaps now I’m being too curious.”

  Adam adjusted his grip on the reins, trying to buy himself some time.
“My mother passed away, and then my father, and then my fiancée, all within eleven months.” He paused, wishing he could say more, wanting to open up and share those thoughts and feelings with Miss Caldwell. But they were just now getting acquainted—he could hardly tell her his life story when they had met such a short time ago. “My mother from general poor health, my father from grief, and my fiancée from pneumonia,” he added, not trusting himself to say more than that.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Brody,” she said, turning to him with sympathy in those incredible eyes. “It must have been awful for you.”

  He nodded. “It’s been very difficult. But now, with the hotel, I have a new beginning, a fresh start. Thank God for Aunt Caroline being there for me through it all.”

  “She’s a very kind woman.”

  Adam turned a little in his seat and looked at Miss Caldwell. “She is. I’m glad you can see that—with her sometimes brusque exterior, it can be difficult to tell what she’s thinking or feeling. Some find it difficult to get to know her.”

  Miss Caldwell looked thoughtful. “I think Miss Hampton has that brusque exterior to protect the very warm heart underneath. She’s been especially concerned about my mother, and I appreciate that attention.”

  Shame flooded Adam. “My aunt has been more attentive than I’ve been. But that will change, Miss Caldwell. Tomorrow, I’ll bring Tom over, and we’ll fix the roof.”

  Miss Caldwell seemed uneasy. “I believe the landowner will be taking care of it. We’re only renting, you see.”

  “Oh. Well, I hope he does take care of it soon. One good rainstorm, and you’ll be soaked. If you change your mind, please just let me know.” He prayed she’d do just that—he badly wanted to do it. It seemed that the more he helped her, the more he wanted to help her.

  She flashed him a smile. “I will.”

  Far too soon, they reached Miss Caldwell’s house. She alighted from the buggy before Adam even had a chance to climb down and help her. “Please, Miss Caldwell, hold up a moment. Let me get the heavier boxes.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, her arms straining under the load. “My mother may be contagious, and I’d hate for you to come in and catch whatever she has.”

  Adam tilted his head. “Aren’t you afraid that you’ll catch it?”

  “No. I’m sure that if I were going to become ill, I would have done it already.” She disappeared into the cabin. Adam glanced around. At least there was firewood stacked up against the side of the house, but that roof was a worry to be sure. Well, if she wouldn’t let him inside the house, he could at least set her boxes near the door, and he did.

  “Thank you so much for today,” Miss Caldwell said after she’d taken everything inside.

  “I’m not leaving quite yet,” Adam told her. “Show me that you remember how to load your gun.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d nearly forgotten.” She showed him what she remembered, and he nodded in satisfaction.

  “You are to keep a loaded gun near at hand at all times,” he reminded her. “Colonel Gordon assured me that he would keep a close eye on this road and this property, but that doesn’t mean you can relax.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  Adam stepped backward, knowing he should return to the hotel, and yet there was something that made him stay. “Miss Caldwell, despite the circumstances that brought it about, today has been one of the most pleasant I’ve spent in a long time. I wonder if you’d come out with me for a Sunday afternoon picnic tomorrow. I’ll ask Mrs. Dempsey to make us up one of her delicious baskets, and we’ll take a break from all the hubbub of the hotel before we open on Monday. What do you say?”

  Her cheeks pinked prettily. “I think I’d like that, Mr. Brody.”

  “Then I’ll be here at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Good day, Miss Caldwell, and please give my best to your mother.” He tipped his hat, then climbed back into the buggy and drove away, wondering what it was about this quiet, reserved young woman that had his heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Agatha pressed her hands to her mouth when she saw the boxes of food. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it.”

  Elizabeth took care of her hat and picked Rose up from the cradle. “Isn’t it amazing? Mr. Brody gave us all a bonus for getting the hotel ready so quickly, and he also helped me open an account at the store. I haven’t used it yet, but it’s there if we need it. I have all your cake makings there, Mother. I’ve set aside enough for rent, and a dairy farmer will be stopping by to sell us some milk for Rose.”

  Agatha wiped tears from her cheeks as she took out the items one by one and placed them on the table. “I remember back when your father was alive and we had such a beautiful home—things like sugar and flour were taken for granted. Now, here I am, crying at the sight of them.”

  “Life has surprised both of us, I believe,” Elizabeth said. “I got rather a surprise today—Mr. Brody asked me if I’d go on a picnic with him tomorrow. Do you mind watching Rose? I wanted to leave your Sundays free, but—”

  “Of course I’ll take care of her,” Agatha said, waving her hand. “You should go and enjoy your time with Mr. Brody. I caught a glimpse of him through the window. He’s a very nice-looking man, isn’t he?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, I would have to agree. And he’s as kind as he is nice-looking.”

  Agatha paused in sorting the groceries, her hand resting on a sack of coffee. “When are you going to tell him about Rose?”

  Elizabeth lifted the baby to her shoulder for a burp. “I don’t know. At first, I thought I’d keep it a secret for as long as possible, but now . . . If he wants to take me on a picnic, that means his feelings are changing, maybe becoming more serious, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Agatha put the last of the things on the table and stacked the boxes near the door. “Funny,” Elizabeth said, looking at the table from across the room. “I don’t remember getting that much flour and butter.”

  “Maybe the grocer made a mistake,” Agatha suggested.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Mr. Brody must have slipped them into her purchases while she wasn’t looking. She had to admit, it was nice to have the extra supplies.

  She finished feeding the baby, then changed her and snuggled her down for a nap. After Rose was bundled up in her cradle, Elizabeth walked over to the table and opened the first bag of flour. “Why don’t I start some bread while you mix up the cake, Mother? Mr. Brody loves cake and asked for a piece.”

  “He did? Well, I’ll have to be sure not to disappoint him.” Agatha grabbed her large bowl and began to measure out ingredients. Elizabeth watched her from the corner of her eye while she mixed up the bread. She loved seeing her mother happy. It happened so infrequently.

  * * *

  Elizabeth dressed with extra care the next morning. She would have loved to buy fabric for a new dress, but that seemed extravagant—it would be foolish to spend all her wages the very first day, and rent would always be more important than a new dress. Well, if she couldn’t wear something new, she could at least wear something clean and tidy. She pressed her light green muslin dress, and added a sprig of flowers to the band of her hat. Hopefully, they wouldn’t wilt before the picnic was over.

  “You look very nice, dear,” Agatha said from the rocking chair, where she was soothing Rose to sleep.

  Elizabeth smiled down at her daughter. “Did she seem to like the milk?”

  “Gracious, yes. I think it filled her right up.”

  “I’m so glad. Now we have a way to keep her fed when I can’t be here right on time.”

  “She’s been doing fine, Elizabeth. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

  Agatha always had seen through Elizabeth’s cheerful façade. “I know we’re doing the best we can, but yes, I have felt guilty. No more, though. Now we have the means to do something about it.”

  Elizabeth heard the sound of hooves and buggy wheels outside. “I’m off, M
other.” Her voice caught a little in her throat. “Are you sure I look nice enough?”

  Agatha’s eyes were soft as she looked at her daughter. “You look beautiful. Don’t forget the cake.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Elizabeth snatched the covered plate off the table, then turned back to give both Rose and her mother a kiss on the cheek.

  “Have a good time, and don’t worry about us.”

  Elizabeth closed the door behind her just as Mr. Brody approached the front of the house.

  “Good morning, Miss Caldwell,” he said, lifting his hat. “We have a beautiful day for our picnic.”

  “Yes, we do. And Mother sent some cake.”

  Mr. Brody grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

  He helped her into the buggy. Even though he wore leather driving gloves, there was still something magical about his touch, something that made her hand tingle for long moments afterward. She clutched the plate of cake a little more tightly and tried to ignore the sensation.

  “Do you feel ready for tomorrow, then?” she asked as he pulled the buggy onto the road and pointed it away from town.

  “I do. When I woke up this morning, I wondered if it was really possible, but then I walked around the property and double checked everything, and I think we’re prepared. I must ask you, though, Miss Caldwell, if you’ve brought your gun with you this morning.”

  Elizabeth blinked, confused. “Yes, it’s in my pocket. Why do you ask?”

  “I just realized that I’ve taken you away from your home without a proper chaperone. Will the gun suffice?”

  Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed. “Mr. Brody, I don’t find you frightening. If I were to change my mind, however, my pocket is quite accessible. Let’s enjoy our picnic and not worry too much about social conventions, all right? Most are silly anyway.”

  He laughed. “All right, Miss Caldwell. I plan to eat cake and not worry about a thing.”