Since he didn’t seem particularly eager to tarry, she nodded and moved toward the sidewalk. “Then we’ll head on over to the restaurant so I can help Daisy get things ready.”
He fell into step beside her, and other than pausing for the occasional introduction or to exchange pleasantries, they didn’t speak until they were out of the churchyard.
“Are these Sunday luncheons always held at your sister-in-law’s restaurant?”
Surprised by his apparent interest, Abigail nodded. “We used to rotate the hosting duties among the families, but the group has grown so large that Daisy’s restaurant is about the only indoor space large enough to hold everyone.”
“How many people are in this group?”
Did she detect a note of wariness? “Not counting you, there are eleven adults and eight children.”
“That’s quite a crowd.”
“Which is part of what makes it such fun.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, before long you’ll feel right at home.”
She still detected a hint of tension in him, so she decided to change the subject. “Did the Crandalls get off okay?”
He gave a short nod. “They were headed for the train station as I left to join you for church service.”
“I pray the doctors in Chicago can help Norma. And not just for her sake. She and Edgar are so close. They’re twins, you know, which makes them doubly close.”
Something flickered in his expression, something involuntary, there and gone before she could identify it.
They’d arrived at the restaurant, however, so she didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Abigail made a few introductions, then left him in her brother’s company while she headed to the kitchen. She knew it was foolish to worry about how he’d fit in. Traveling as he did, Mr. Reynolds must be accustomed to finding himself in unfamiliar places with strangers for company.
Still, she felt responsible for him while he was here.
* * *
Seth watched Abigail head to the kitchen and for just a moment felt as if he’d been set adrift. Strange how he’d become accustomed to her presence after such a short acquaintance.
Which was absurd. He was used to being among strangers—in fact he normally preferred it. Strangers had little power to distract or disappoint you.
“What do you think of Turnabout?”
He turned to see it was Everett Fulton who’d addressed him. “From what I’ve seen so far, the place carries a certain small-town charm.”
Everett smiled. “Quite different from Philadelphia, isn’t it? But it definitely has its fine points.”
“Your sister indicated all four families here have ties to Judge Madison.”
“We do. About five or so years ago, Judge Madison was instrumental in convincing the men in this group to move here from Philadelphia.”
Which was information Miss Fulton had already provided. He’d hoped for a little more, so he tried a little prodding. “I suppose he was working to improve his granddaughter’s hometown even then.”
Everett looked amused. “You could say that.” The door opened and Everett waved a hand. “Speaking of the judge’s granddaughter, she just walked in with her family. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Regina Barr turned out to be a confident, interesting woman, with eyes that seemed to see more than the physical aspect of the person she was speaking to.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand. “My grandfather has told me so much about you.”
She released his hand and continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you properly yesterday, but I’m glad you could join us today. I trust my grandfather was well the last time you saw him.”
“Yes, ma’am. And he sends his best to you.”
“In his letters to me, he speaks very highly of you, and my grandfather isn’t one to praise lightly.”
Seth gave short bow. “You flatter me, ma’am. I have the utmost respect for your grandfather. He tells me you’re a talented photographer.”
She nodded, acknowledging his compliment. “It’s something I enjoy.” Then she handed the child she’d been carrying to her husband and accepted the hamper he’d been carrying in return. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m going to see if they need my help in the kitchen.”
After that, the other members of the group arrived in rapid succession and Seth was introduced to each in turn.
With practiced ease, the men rearranged the tables to form one long dining surface. After a moment’s hesitation, Seth set aside his cane and pitched in. He was always self-conscious about his ungainly gait when he walked unaided, but that was no excuse for not helping.
The conversation among the men was convivial and while they made an effort to include him, much of it contained references to people and events Seth was completely unfamiliar with. But he listened and absorbed what he could. He’d learned long ago that it was always helpful to learn as much as possible about the people around you.
Seth was pleased no one tried to give him special treatment due to his limp. His assistance was accepted as a matter of course, a consideration he didn’t always receive.
Once the tables were properly arranged, cloths were brought out, followed by the meal itself. Everyone pitched in, even the older children—obviously no one here considered setting up the meal to be women’s work.
Once everything was set out, he went to retrieve his cane and found one of the children, a little girl who looked to be four or five, eyeing it curiously.
“I like your stick,” she said when he approached.
“Thank you.” He took it and leaned into it, relieving some of the weight from his aching leg. “I like it, too.”
“Do you use it because you walk funny?”
Seth stilled, unused to being questioned so directly. But there was no judgment in this little girl, only curiosity. So he managed to smile and give her a simple answer. “Yes. It helps me to walk when my leg hurts.”
She nodded, then skipped away to rejoin some of the other children.
Seth turned and stilled as he found Miss Fulton watching him. The idea that she might have overheard his exchange with the child left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.
“I see you’ve made the acquaintance of the judge’s great-granddaughter, Patience.”
He still couldn’t tell if she’d overheard anything. “She seems a bright child,” he said cautiously.
Miss Fulton nodded and then changed the subject with a wave toward the other end of the room. “I thought I’d give you a look at my library.”
“Of course.” He followed her across the room, deciding that she probably hadn’t heard anything after all.
The three bookshelves that held her collection were crammed full, with many of the shelves weighted down with books stacked two deep. And the range of titles included was impressive.
“What do you think?” She studied him earnestly, as if his answer really mattered to her.
He wasn’t used to such regard. He cleared his throat. “You have an impressively eclectic selection. There seems to be a little something for every taste and age level.”
She smiled as if that had been a huge compliment. “Thank you. I try to have something for everyone, but as you probably noticed I’ve run out of room to add anything new. In fact, the last batch Judge Madison sent is stacked on a chair in my bedroom. I’ve had to ask him to stop sending books until I figure out a way to accommodate them.”
Which must be when Judge Madison decided she needed a new space for her books. “Does your library get much use?”
Miss Fulton nodded as she fussily straightened a few volumes. “Absolutely. Several patrons have read every book I own, some more than once. And many have asked to be notified as soon as I acquire new titles.
”
The small desk in front of the bookshelves held an open ledger and he idly studied it, curious as to her record-keeping skills.
The page contained row upon row of neatly penned entries containing book title, checkout date, return date and the borrowing patron’s name. The woman was surprisingly well organized for someone who seemed so flighty.
Perhaps there was more to Miss Fulton than he’d initially credited.
Then again, managing a small subscription library and managing the creation of a cohesive design for a major business were two entirely different undertakings on two entirely different scales.
A moment later everyone began taking their seats. It appeared all of them, including the children, sat together along the long row of joined tables, and Seth found himself seated between Miss Fulton and Chance Dawson, the youngest of the four men who’d journeyed here together.
Mitch Parker, who Seth had learned was one of the town’s schoolteachers, stood and gave the blessing over the meal.
When the amens were said, conversation picked up again as the food was passed around the table. Apparently this group believed in keeping things informal.
As he passed the bowl of peas to Miss Fulton, he resumed their conversation about the library. “I see now why you’re anxious to find a new place for your library. We’ll have to decide on a space soon.”
“I’m so glad you agree. Perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
The judge’s granddaughter said something to her from across the table and their conversation ended. Seth took the opportunity to look around.
The group nearly filled up the restaurant. In addition to the four couples and Miss Fulton, an elderly couple, the Peavys, were there. They were apparently the housekeeper and handyman that lived with the Barrs. And there seemed to be kids everywhere, from infants to adolescents. In addition to Miss Fulton’s sister-in-law, Mrs. Parker, the schoolteacher’s wife, was apparently expecting as well. Seth hadn’t been part of a family or even a community gathering of this sort in a very long time.
How would Jamie feel about being a part of a gathering like this? Of course, the boy no doubt took part in large gatherings for the students at his boarding school.
But did they have the same kind of family feel as this?
Throughout the meal, everyone did their best to make him feel comfortable, going out of their way to include him in conversations, explaining some of the references that were foreign to him, asking him questions that showed interest without being too personal.
But he knew himself to be an outsider here. Except when he looked at Miss Fulton. Strange how just glancing her way seemed to anchor him. Perhaps it was because it was she who had met him when he arrived.
When the meal ended, he helped put the restaurant back to rights, then turned to Abigail. “I should get back to the hotel so I can relieve Miss Mills.”
The staff took turns watching the front desk on Sunday mornings so no one person had to miss services every Sunday. Today it had been the maid’s turn.
“And when would you like me to come by and relieve you?”
Miss Fulton apparently took her role as his partner seriously. “This being Sunday, I can cover things until Mr. Scruggs comes by for the night shift. Why don’t you plan to come by tomorrow morning?”
She nodded. “Perhaps we can also discuss what sort of budget I have for the furnishings and fabrics I’ll need to purchase.”
Her question caught him by surprise, though he thought he did a good job of covering it. He was uncomfortable with the idea of giving her a budget to manage on her own. But now was not the time to mention that. He’d begun to feel the effects of a headache.
“Of course. I can work out some preliminary figures based on what Judge Madison and I discussed for the overall project budget. We can discuss how to work things out in that area when I see you tomorrow.”
A few minutes later he stepped outside and headed toward the hotel. The fresh air helped his headache some but he couldn’t shake it completely. Perhaps he should have taken Miss Fulton up on her offer to help this afternoon.
Then he rolled his eyes. He’d never been one to let something as minor as a headache stop him before. Surely he wasn’t letting the intriguing Miss Fulton get to him?
He had too much on the line to let himself be distracted by a sunny smile and spirited personality.
Chapter Five
Abigail always enjoyed helping with the cleanup after the Sunday lunches. Being together in the kitchen with the other women, listening to their stories and laughter, had always given her an all-is-right-with-the-world feeling.
If ever a girl needed role models for marital bliss she couldn’t ask for finer examples. She hoped to one day join their ranks. Of course, she first had to find a man to love and be loved by in return.
Would that ever happen for her?
Once the kitchen was set back to rights and the other families made their exits, Daisy gave a tired sigh. She looked at her son and daughter playing with wooden spoons nearby. “I think these two are ready for a nap.” She smiled Abigail’s way as she rubbed her stomach. “And I may just join them.”
“You need help getting them upstairs?” Abigail asked as she untied her apron.
Everett bent over to lift Danielle. “That’s my job.” He tickled the little girl, causing her to erupt in giggles.
Daisy took Wyatt’s hand and Everett slid his arm around her, giving her an affectionate peck on the cheek.
A lump rose in Abigail’s throat as she stared at the blissful family picture they made. Her brother had found his forever love and she’d never seen him so happy and content. Would she ever have that for herself?
Throwing off the poignant mood, she hung up the apron. “It’s a beautiful day and I’m not interested in napping. I think I’ll take a nice long walk.”
With goodbyes quickly said, she headed out, turning toward the Harper home almost without conscious thought. A nice chat with her best friend was just what she needed to clear her mind.
Mr. Reynolds was a puzzle to her. The man could be so formal one moment, then relaxed the next. His interactions with the hotel staff were no-nonsense. Yet today he’d handled Patience’s innocently indelicate question with surprising sensitivity. She’d also sensed being caught performing that kindness had embarrassed him.
Yes, the man was definitely a puzzle.
When she knocked on the Harpers’ door, it was Reverend Harper who answered. “Hello, Abigail.” He pushed open the screen door. “Come on in. Constance is in the parlor.”
“Not anymore.” Constance appeared behind her father’s shoulder.
Abigail smiled a greeting. “I thought I’d enjoy some of this fall sunshine. Care to join me?”
Constance nodded. “Let me fetch my bonnet.”
Ten minutes later they were strolling along the country lane that meandered behind the church. Abigail finally broke the silence. “What did you think of Mr. Reynolds?”
Constance gave her a wry smile. “Based on the five-minute conversation I had with him, he seems a nice enough gent. A little stiff perhaps, but that’s understandable since he’s new here.”
She cut Abigail a sideways look. “The real question is, what do you think of him?”
Abigail gave the question careful consideration. “He’s very business-minded in his approach, but earnest and willing to listen. As far as I can tell, he’s also very good at his job.” Then she waved a hand. “Which isn’t surprising since the judge hired him.”
“But do you like him?”
“I don’t dislike him.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.”
“I’m still trying to figure out how I feel. I got the impression he wasn’t happy to learn I’d be working wit
h him, but that could just be because he was caught by surprise. And his all-business demeanor can be a bit off-putting. But there’s also something about him that’s seems so honorable.” She wanted to call it vulnerability, but that was ridiculous.
He was also handsome in a severe sort of way, but that wasn’t something she needed to comment on, even to her best friend.
Thankfully, Constance decided to take the conversation on a tangent. “Have you told him yet about you wanting the hotel-manager job?”
“I hinted at it but didn’t come right out and ask. However, I did ask him to teach me the job, and he’s agreed.”
“Well, that’s promising.”
“It is. But I can tell he’s going to need a lot of convincing.”
“You’re smart and a quick study. I’m sure, once he’s worked with you a while, he’ll see how good a job you’d do.”
“I sincerely hope so.” She gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. “Oh, Constance, I think this is something I’d really like to do. Working with the hotel staff, and the guests and everything else that goes with the job.”
“Then I’m certain it’ll all work out. I’ve never known you to fail at anything you’ve set your mind to.”
Abigail sincerely hoped her friend was right. Then she gave Constance’s arm a squeeze. “But enough about me. Tell me, has Calvin asked you to step out with him yet?”
She grinned as Constance began to protest, perhaps a bit too strongly, that there was absolutely nothing between her and Calvin Hendricks. And the rest of their walk was filled with inconsequential conversation.
* * *
When Abigail arrived at the hotel early the next morning, she found the night clerk still there.
“Good morning, Larry. Is Mr. Reynolds about?”
“I ain’t seen hide nor hair of him this morning.” Larry sounded put out, but that wasn’t unusual for the curmudgeonly night clerk. “He told me I was to stay on duty until he relieved me, but I’ve got to get on home now.”
Pleased that she’d made it here ahead of Mr. Reynolds, Abigail gave Larry a bright smile. “You can go on. I’m scheduled to work the desk this morning.”
Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 5