Once Upon a Texas Christmas

by Winnie Griggs

  She studied him a moment, then indicated the door to her left. “If you would join me in the office, I’d like to go through the accounts with you. I have a few questions.”

  Why had she been going through the books? Was she looking for something in particular? Did she even understand what she was looking at? “Questions?”

  “I need to speak to you about what sort of budget we have for staffing needs.”

  The change in subject confused him even more. Was she hoping to earn a salary herself? “Is there something in particular you have in mind?”

  She led the way into the small office, leaving him to follow. He was grateful her back was to him so she didn’t notice how pronounced his limp had become.

  “For one thing,” she said, “I’ve had everyone working extra hours yesterday and today. And I hired someone to help out while things were...so unsettled. I’d like to extend that for a day or two, just until we’re ready to set some kind of routine again.”

  Apparently she had truly taken charge in his absence. “We can cover that,” he replied.

  To his chagrin, she took the seat behind the desk, leaving him to take the guest chair, which he dropped into with more relief than he cared to admit.

  “In fact, I’d also like to suggest we permanently hire the young man who’s been helping out. At least for the duration of the renovation.”

  “To do what?”

  “Primarily to assist guests with luggage, run errands and such. But when he’s not busy with that, we could train him to watch the desk from time to time so things are covered when we need to do other things.”

  It was what he himself had planned to do, but he was particular about the kind of person they needed. “Tell me about this young man.”

  She leaned forward, her crossed arms resting on the desk. “He’s sixteen and is the oldest of five boys. And his family could really use the money.”

  “But what kind of skills and character does he have?”

  “Darby’s a fine young man. Perhaps he doesn’t have the sharpest of intellects, but he’s pleasant, steady, a hard worker and is scrupulously honest.”

  “High praise indeed. And how do you know this? Is he a relative? A close friend?”

  She leaned back and met his gaze without blinking. “Neither. I know this because he helps at Daisy’s restaurant occasionally so I’ve worked with him before.”

  He still wasn’t convinced. “Why don’t you ask him to come in and I’ll speak to him. If I agree with your assessment, we can hire him on a trial basis.”

  Her expression indicated she’d noted his lack of enthusiasm, but she merely nodded. “Of course. Don’t worry, you won’t be disappointed.”

  Seth decided it was time to move to something else. “Was there anything else about the books we need to discuss?”

  “Actually, I need to know what sort of budget I’ll be working with for purchasing the furnishings. Did Judge Madison discuss that with you already, or should I write to him for the information?”

  “I have the overall budget for the project.” He hesitated a moment. “Perhaps it would be best if you come to me when you’re ready to make any purchases and we can discuss whether or not it makes economic sense.”

  She sat up straighter. “And of course you’ll come to me so we may discuss the particulars of purchases related to the construction.” There was more than a little challenge in her tone.

  “I don’t see—”

  “You can’t have it both ways, Mr. Reynolds. Either we are working together on every aspect, or we each direct our own tasks and merely touch base on overlapping areas to make certain we’re moving in harmony.”

  The woman was definitely determined. “Miss Fulton, do you know anything at all about managing a working budget? And I don’t mean a household budget.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. My brother is an excellent businessman, but he isn’t fond of balancing his books. So once a week for the past four years I’ve performed that task for both the newspaper and the restaurant. And so far we’ve managed quite nicely.”

  Despite himself, Seth was impressed. “Very well. I’ll gather my notes on the budget and identify what piece of that you have to work with. However, I’d like us to meet at least once a week to go over the numbers, for both pieces of this project, just to make certain we’re staying on track.”

  She gave a quick nod. “Acceptable. I trust you to divide the funds fairly. And you can trust me to be responsible with my purchases.”

  Seth, who still had visions of a lobby decorated with overblown images of cabbage roses, felt less optimistic.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” she said quickly. “While we’re discussing budget, we should probably talk about what we want to do for the upcoming holidays.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we represent one of the major town businesses so it’s expected we’ll participate, as I’m sure the judge would agree. The town Thanksgiving Festival should be easy. Mr. Crandall usually donated some food—a large ham or roast and all the trimmings—as well as some money toward prizes for the competitions.”

  “We should be able to do that.”

  “Christmas, though, will be a little different this year.”

  Since he didn’t know what it had been like for Turnabout in the past, he had no idea what that meant. But before he could comment she was already explaining.

  “We don’t normally do a community festival for Christmas since folks prefer a more intimate family gathering. There’s a children’s pageant on Christmas Eve, though, and lots of festive decorations around town.”

  “Sounds pleasant.”

  “Oh, it is. But this year, there are plans to make it extra special. Since this is the last Christmas of the nineteenth century, the town council proposed we do something memorable. First, all the folks in town are encouraged to decorate the exteriors of their homes and businesses. Then the Saturday before Christmas, the town will put on a Christmas parade. And at the end of the parade they will award a prize to the home and the business deemed the best decorated. Then there will be hayrides and fireworks.” Her smile seemed to double in size. “Doesn’t that sound absolutely grand?”

  “I’m sure it will all be quite nice, but where does the hotel come in to all this?”

  “We’ll want to decorate the building, of course. Wouldn’t it be fabulous if we could win the competition? Not only would it draw attention to the hotel just as we’re preparing to open the new wing, but it would also be a nice surprise for the judge.”

  Seth didn’t see it as quite the benefit she did, but he also didn’t see a problem with it. “I agree we should participate—the judge always likes to be a contributing member of any community he becomes part of. But I think expecting to win is a bit overambitious. For one thing, it would require a focus that would take away from our other work.”

  “I always say that any job worth doing deserves your best effort.”

  “And I always say, best to stay focused on what matters most.”

  He hid a smile as she rolled her eyes. Then he spread his hands in a do-what-you-will gesture. “You’re in charge of the decorative aspects of the renovation. If you think you can add this to your workload and not fall behind on anything else, then I have no objections.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m up to the challenge.”

  He didn’t doubt that for a minute. “Once you’ve decided on a theme, I would like to have a chance to go over it with you before you actually implement it.”

  “Absolutely—I welcome your input.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh, this is going to be such fun!” Then she stood. “Now, I have some things to take care of. Why don’t you stay here and I’ll send for Darby. You can go ahead and speak to him today and satisfy yourself as to his qualifications. I’d like
to make him an official member of the staff as soon as possible.”

  Secretly relieved not to have to get up out of his chair just yet, Seth nodded and leaned back while Miss Fulton bustled off.

  It seemed, against all his expectations, Miss Fulton had really stepped up and done a good job of keeping things going in his absence.

  What else had he gotten wrong where she was concerned?

  * * *

  Abigail shook her head as she left the office. She’d seen the way the man’s hands had started shaking earlier, had seen the stubborn set of his jaw as he tried to ignore the sign of weakness. If she hadn’t invited him to join her in the office, would he have stood there until he fell?

  It seemed Everett wasn’t the only stubborn male of her acquaintance. Was it a trait shared by every male, or just the ones in her life?

  Pushing those philosophical questions aside, she asked Ruby to find Darby for her, then went back to her place behind the front desk. There was still work to be done and for now it was up to her to get it done.

  She supposed, just to humor the refuse-to-slow-down partner of hers, she’d ask Mr. Hendricks to come by in a little bit to give Mr. Reynolds an update.

  She doubted the man would accept anything she told him about the work progress as valid.

  Men!

  Chapter Nine

  Just as Abigail hoped, things went much smoother with Darby on the staff. The boy—young man, really—was eager to please and did everything he was instructed to with a gratifying eagerness.

  By Wednesday morning Mr. Reynolds appeared to have recovered completely—or at least he wasn’t admitting to it if he hadn’t. He was definitely back to his stiff, standoffish self, though Abigail did think she sensed an ever-so-slight unbending during odd moments when he thought no one was looking.

  Both she and Mr. Reynolds took turns teaching Darby various aspects of the desk-clerk job. Although Mr. Reynolds seemed to reserve judgment, Abigail was very happy with the young man’s work. He was cautioned to send for one of them if he should run in to the slightest issue, but so far had seemed capable of handling most things that came up.

  With Mr. Reynolds focused once more on overseeing the construction and remodeling, and Darby handling the desk-clerk job, Abigail finally felt free to begin the research she needed to do for her part of the project.

  So after lunch on Wednesday, she grabbed some of the catalogs she’d collected and happily dived in.

  “What in the world are you doing poring over catalogs in the back corner of the dining room? Doesn’t the hotel have an office?”

  Abigail looked up, smiling as she saw Constance approach.

  “It does, but Mr. Reynolds and I have to share it.” She stretched her neck to try to ease some of the kinks she hadn’t felt until now. How long had she been at this?

  Constance took a seat. “And you don’t want to share with him?”

  Abigail grinned. “It’s not a matter of wanting to. With his blueprints and schedules spread out everywhere, not to mention an ever-growing pile of paperwork, it’s just easier for me to work in here.”

  “That doesn’t sound like sharing to me.”

  Abigail felt a strange urge to defend him. “I don’t mind. And most of the day it’s pretty quiet in here.”

  “And how is Mr. Reynolds doing? Since you’re out here I assume he’s back to work.”

  “He appears to have completely recovered with no lingering effects.”

  “How’s your part of the project coming?”

  “I’m really enjoying the challenge. And I think I’m going to actually be good at this.”

  “Of course you will. I always said you had a good eye for such things.”

  “I just want to make certain I do the judge proud.”

  “He wouldn’t have put you in charge of this if he hadn’t trusted you could do it.” Constance tapped the catalog. “So show me what you’re thinking of ordering.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Abigail spent the next twenty minutes happily discussing her plans with her best friend.

  “I’ve also been talking to Hazel down at the dress shop about what kinds of fabric will be best to use for the drapes, upholstery, cushions and such.”

  “Good idea.”

  “And I don’t plan to stop there. It seems to me I should take advantage of all the folks in town who know anything about art or wood or anything else decorative in nature. I want to make certain I educate myself as much as possible on the nuances of what to look for in the products I need to acquire.”

  Constance gave her a speculative look. “Have you discussed any of this with Mr. Reynolds yet?”

  Abigail shook her head. “I want to make certain I have a solid plan first.” She impatiently tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I need to convince him I have the skills and good sense it takes to make a proper hotel manager.”

  “He strikes me as a sensible man. I can’t imagine him not agreeing to this.”

  Unfortunately, Abigail could. The man seemed predisposed to challenge her at every turn. But that just made her all the more determined to prove herself to him.

  But there was another component of the renovation she had on her mind as well. And tomorrow morning she planned to confront him about it.

  * * *

  On Thursday morning Abigail sought out Mr. Reynolds as soon as she arrived at the hotel. She found him in the office, studying the newspaper.

  He looked up when she entered and waved her to the guest chair. “I see you made use of the interview you conducted.”

  Abigail smiled. Everett had printed her interview of Mr. Reynolds on the front page of this morning’s Turnabout Gazette. “Do you like it?”

  He raised a brow. “I don’t recall giving you quite so much detail when we spoke, but there are no inaccuracies that I could spot.”

  At least he didn’t seem upset.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  His question reminded her of her reason for being there. “If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss where we might set up my library.”

  He set aside the newspaper. “I’m listening.”

  “The guest parlor is rarely used now that the number of guests we’re taking in has been curtailed, and it’s ideally located for the library.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back. “That space is set aside for our guests who wish to entertain. It would be another step back in service if we no longer made it available to them.”

  She was prepared for that particular objection. “Yes, but a new, larger parlor has been allocated in the new wing. Once that room is ready, this one will no longer be needed. I think Mr. Crandall had the current parlor earmarked for a first-floor guest room to be held in reserve for emergencies.”

  Mr. Reynolds nodded. “A sound policy in case of overbookings or unexpected issues with one of the regular rooms.”

  She refused to give in without a fight. “But not something altogether necessary, especially right now while we have other rooms that are sitting empty. And I know the current parlor is larger than what I need for my library at the moment, but there’s not another space as well suited. The parlor is on the first floor. It’s near the front entrance but out of the way of the reception desk. And I can see into it quite well when I’m working the front desk.” There, she’d presented a well-reasoned, dispassionate case. Surely he couldn’t find anything to argue with on that point.

  * * *

  Seth didn’t know whether to be more amused or affronted by her determination. “It appears you’ve given this quite a bit of thought.”

  She smiled confidently. “I have. Surely you agree, it’s the only space that makes sense.”

  He’d been giving it some thought as well. “Actual
ly, there’s another option.”

  “There is?”

  He spread his hands. “We could simply convert this office to your library.”

  She looked around thoughtfully. “There’s no doubt this would work. It’s not as big as the parlor but it’s still more than double the size of the space I currently have.” She met his gaze again. “But if we turned this into the library, what would we use as an office?”

  “The guest parlor.” He noted with satisfaction the way her eyes widened.

  “So you agree we don’t need that space as a spare guest room, you just don’t see it as a library.”

  He gave a short nod. “Correct.”

  “I do see your point. It would be nice to have a larger office, one we could both use without getting in each other’s way.” She gave a decisive nod. “I accept.”

  Her quick capitulation surprised him. He hadn’t expected it to be quite so simple. “You’re okay with having the smaller space for your library?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course. As I said, this space will do quite well. And the south-facing window lets in lots of light. In fact, this will make a perfectly marvelous library.”

  He could find no hint of reluctance in her demeanor.

  She tapped her chin with her index finger. “The only real difficulty I see is where the door is located. One has to practically step behind the front desk to get to it. That wasn’t a problem while this remained an office. But it could be intrusive once we turn this into a library.”

  Miss Fulton’s ability to see bigger issues when studying problems continued to surprise him. Before he could form a response, she brightened.

  “Oh, I know. What if we close the opening to the registration counter on this end and have the access on the other end made more prominent? I think that would be an easy change, we’d just need to find a way to make it look intentional and not an afterthought.”

  She turned to him again. “I imagine Mr. Hendricks would have some ideas.” She gave him a bright smile. “Would you like me to speak to him about it or would you prefer to do it?”