Her eyes widened at the contact and he felt a small jolt of awareness as well. Not at all appropriate for any number of reasons.
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully keeping his voice steady.
She nodded and straightened, her gaze still staring at him like a startled fawn. Then she blinked and looked down, brushing at her skirt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
He gave her a crooked grin, hoping to put her at ease. “No need for apologies. It’s not often I find myself to be the second clumsiest one in the room.”
She glanced back up at that, her startled look quickly changing to amusement. Then she tilted her chin haughtily. “Such an ungentlemanly comment, sir. And for your information, we are not in a room, so you can’t lay claim to that honor yet.”
As they set off down the sidewalk, Seth wondered at what had just happened. He hadn’t teased anyone in quite some time, not since before his accident. But somehow it had felt right with her.
And he couldn’t decide if that was good thing or not.
* * *
“I have to say, I find the news that you’re planning to install an elevator in the hotel mighty exciting.”
Seth smiled at Miss Fulton’s sister-in-law as she reached to clear away one of the many platters on the table. He was also very aware that Miss Fulton herself stood across the table, where she, too, was gathering up dirty dishes.
“I’ve never seen an elevator before,” Mrs. Fulton continued, “much less ridden in one.”
Seth made a deprecating gesture. “It’s Judge Madison you should thank for this—I’m just following his direction. He likes to add whatever modern conveniences make sense while we’re undergoing construction and renovation.”
Mrs. Fulton shook her head as she added another dish to the stack in her arms. “Don’t go getting all modest. Abigail told me how the elevator was your idea and how hard you worked to find space for it in the construction plans.”
Abigail—Miss Fulton—spoke of him? He cast an involuntary glance her way and noticed she was very studiously not looking at him.
The woman at his elbow reclaimed his attention. “You’ve been here in Turnabout what—about two weeks now?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you had an opportunity to see much of the area in that time?”
Seth gave her a polite smile as he shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ve been much too busy to do any sightseeing.”
“Well, you’re not too busy now and it’s a beautiful day for a carriage ride.” She turned to Abigail. “And you should go along as a guide. You haven’t had much chance to get out lately, either.”
Miss Fulton appeared flustered. “I need to help with the kitchen cleanup.”
Was she protesting out of politeness or did she not want to ride out with him?
But it seemed her sister-in-law was not going to take no for an answer. “Don’t be silly. There’s plenty of help here—in fact we’ll likely be stepping over each other when we get back to the kitchen.”
“Well, if you’re sure...” Miss Fulton eyed him diffidently. “And if Mr. Reynolds would like to have a guide...”
Politeness demanded he accept. “It sounds like a pleasant outing. And I’d be pleased to have you join me.”
“There now, that’s settled then.” Mrs. Fulton’s tone carried a suspicious hint of smug satisfaction. “Get along with you and enjoy yourselves.”
As they stepped out on the sidewalk, Miss Fulton gave him a sideways look. “I hope you don’t mind Daisy’s pushiness. She means well.”
“Not at all. She was correct—it’s a pleasant day for a ride.” And the company was nice as well.
They strolled toward the livery in silence for a while, until Miss Fulton finally spoke again. “You know, once that elevator is installed, we’ll probably get a bunch of local folks who’ll want to ride in it just for the novelty of it.”
He smiled. “We can probably accommodate them, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our normal operations. The novelty will wear out quickly, I imagine.”
Twenty minutes later, Seth was driving the buggy out of the livery. He was quite pleased that he’d managed to hand her up and then climb up to his seat with relative grace—or at least no noticeable troubles.
“You were recruited to be my guide, so where shall we go?” he asked.
She pointed forward. “Turn the carriage left on Schoolhouse Road. It leads out of town and through some lovely countryside.”
He obliged and they rode in silence for a while.
As they left the town behind them, he decided it was time he picked a topic of discussion. “You know, the climate here takes a little getting used to. Back in Philadelphia, you’d likely need a coat and scarf for a ride like this.”
She nodded. “I remember from my time in Boston. We don’t get quite the same dramatic foliage colors here. But I’ll take the milder weather any day.” She cut him a curious look. “Back in Philadelphia, do you live in the city or out in the countryside?”
“I have a small apartment in the city.” Not that he spent much time there.
“Then you must find life here very different from what you’re used to.”
He grimaced. “An understatement. The streets there have nearly as many automobiles as carriages. And the use of electricity and telephones is widespread. You can find almost anything you need or want in a nearby shop without having to order from a catalog. And there are any number of museums, libraries, galleries, theaters and opera houses if you are a fan of the fine arts.”
“I remember. And sometimes I do miss the theater and museums aspect. But not enough to want to leave here.”
“So you enjoy theater?”
“Absolutely. A theater performance can be so exhilarating, so emotional.”
“Do you have a favorite play?”
“I once saw Hamlet performed—that was quite moving.” She grinned. “You look surprised.”
“I suppose I expected you to lean toward something less somber, something lighter in tone.”
She tossed her head. “Oh, I enjoy those as well. The Taming of the Shrew and H.M.S. Pinafore are also favorites. But Hamlet spoke to me on a level the others didn’t.”
Curious. But before he could think of a response, she suddenly pointed to her left. “Look!”
Seth obediently looked where she’d pointed and pulled the buggy to a stop. Strutting across an open meadow was a large turkey.
She took his arm, her gaze still focused on the bird. “Isn’t he magnificent?” she whispered.
Seth looked from the bird to the girl seated beside him. He could feel the warmth of her touch through his sleeve. Her face was flushed and her eyes were wide and shining with pleasure. Magnificent. Yes, it was the perfect word.
Then he gave his head a mental shake and turned back to study the fowl. “Now that’s a sight you wouldn’t see in the city.”
“I’ve seen deer and foxes and other wildlife out here before. But this is the first time I’ve seen a turkey in the wild.”
The bird disappeared into the tree line and she turned back to him. “This meadow is one of my favorite spots. In the spring you can pick blackberries to your heart’s content. And there’s a creek just past those trees over yonder that you can wade in.”
She turned impulsively. “Would you like to get out and walk?” Then her expression shifted. “I’m sorry. Perhaps that was insensitive of me.”
He didn’t want sympathy from her. “No need to apologize. It’s true that I have trouble with uneven ground, but if I’m careful it shouldn’t be a problem.”
He set the brake and tied off the reins, then he carefully dismounted. Pain shot up his bad leg when he inadvertently let it take too much of his weight. He’d overcompensated trying to prove he was �
��normal.” But he recovered quickly. Once he had his balance under control, Seth retrieved his cane from under the seat, then went around to assist Abigail. When her feet were firmly on the ground he found he had to force himself to release her.
But she immediately smiled and linked her arm with his. Was it for her own support or was she trying to assist him? Or was she as eager to retain that physical connection as he was?
Whatever the case, he found he enjoyed the contact—perhaps a little too much.
Abigail stopped periodically to pick some late blooming wildflowers, a yellow bloom he didn’t recognize but that she called tickseed. She kept up a steady patter of conversation, exclaiming over the flowers, pointing out pecan trees that she scrutinized and assured him would be dropping their fruit “any day now.” She only occasionally made statements or asked questions that required a response from him, but he didn’t mind. He was beginning to enjoy listening to her ramble.
She finally quieted and seemed lost in thought. After a moment, she cut him a sideways look. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
His guard immediately came up. “That depends on the question.”
She nodded. “Fair enough. What happened? To your leg I mean.”
Seth stiffened, her question dampening his enjoyment of the outing.
She gave his arm a light squeeze and met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business if you don’t want to talk about it. I truly won’t take offense.”
He held his peace for a moment, not sure he wanted to share such personal information. Finally he nodded. “There was a fire when I was a child. A beam fell on my leg.”
Again she squeezed his arm, but this time it was more supportive in nature. “Oh, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you.”
He’d lost so much that night—freedom of motion was only a part of it. But he wasn’t ready to go in to that, not even with her. Perhaps especially with her.
So he merely shrugged. “I was actually quite fortunate. The doctor who examined me right after it happened didn’t think I would ever walk again.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.”
Her free hand went to her throat. “So young!”
The last thing he wanted from her was pity. “Miss Fulton—”
“I would take it as great favor if you would call me Abigail.”
Her request caught him by surprise.
She must have sensed his hesitation because, though she did a good job of keeping her expression steady, the color climbed up her neck and into her cheeks.
“I hope you don’t think it impertinent of me to make such a suggestion, but we are business associates after all, and we see each other every day. It just seems silly to stand on ceremony in this manner.”
He cleared his throat. “Not impertinent, just unexpected.” He realized that he’d already begun to call her Abigail in his thoughts. And to refuse her, after she’d gathered up her courage to make the request, would be ungentlemanly. So he gave a short bow. “I would be pleased to call you by your given name if you will extend me the same courtesy.”
She gave him a brilliant smile, as if he’d just handed her a precious gift, and Seth found himself responding in kind.
And that scared him.
What was he doing? First the teasing earlier and now this. A personal relationship with her was out of the question. He was not the kind of man that a woman like Abigail needed. And she was going to hate him when she realized the deck had been stacked against her on the hotel-manager job from the very beginning.
That thought was enough to sober him completely.
He straightened. “I think it’s time we head back,” he said abruptly.
Her expression changed from buoyant happiness to bewilderment. “I—Of course.”
He held his arm out so she could hold it for support, but he made no attempt to be more than dutiful.
They turned and headed back to the buggy without speaking. He kept his gaze focused straight ahead, but he could still sense her hurt and confusion.
He resisted the urge to console her.
It was best this way. For both of them.
No matter how much he wished things could be different.
Chapter Fourteen
Abigail walked back to the buggy at Seth’s side, her mind a jumble of disjointed emotions. It was as if she’d been walking through a lovely garden and suddenly had a thick swarm of gnats fly into her face. They’d been getting along so well, or at least she’d thought he was enjoying himself, too. What had happened to stir up that particular swarm of gnats, to turn him all stiff and closed off again? Was it because she’d asked about his leg? Or because she’d asked him to call her Abigail? Had he decided she was being too forward after all?
Or was it something else altogether?
When they reached the wagon, he helped her up, but his touch was impersonal, lacking the warmth of their earlier contact.
She made a couple of attempts to engage him in conversation on the ride home, but while his demeanor remained pleasant, it was also impersonal, and he limited himself to brief responses. It was almost a relief when he pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the restaurant.
Abigail quickly dismounted from the buggy. She couldn’t bear the thought of his polite but oh-so-impersonal touch.
“Thank you for an enjoyable outing,” he said politely.
“You’re quite welcome.” She managed to keep her tone equally polite. Then she stepped away from the buggy. “Well then, I guess I’ll see you at the hotel in the morning.”
With a nod, he set the horses in motion once more.
Abigail wasn’t ready to go inside and face Daisy’s curiosity, so she turned in the opposite direction of the livery and headed out at a fast walk. Perhaps some exercise and time alone to think and to pray would help clear her head.
* * *
Seth walked back to the hotel from the livery, making sure to go up Main Street rather than Second so he wouldn’t risk encountering Abigail. He was definitely out of sorts.
His leg ached from the jolt it had gotten and the walk they’d taken through the meadow. But he’d dealt with those aches and pains before and likely would again.
No, what had him so rattled was the image of the hurt look on Abigail’s face, and the knowledge that he was responsible for placing it there.
There was no doubt in his mind that putting some distance between them had been necessary. They were business associates and that was all they would ever be. He should never have done anything to make her think different.
Still, perhaps he could have been gentler with her.
Not that she could have intended anything more than a warmer friendship. He realized that now that he’d had some distance from the situation. Her overtures may have even been driven by sympathy. After all, she’d made her request to use given names after she’d heard the story of his leg injury.
It had just been wishful thinking on his part that had seen things leading to something more. For one thing, a vibrant young woman like Abigail would never be happy shackled to half a man, such as himself.
And that was the crux of the problem—wishful thinking. It did him no good to wish for something he couldn’t have. He thought he’d come to terms with that a long time ago.
But then Abigail had happened.
And now nothing was the same.
Chapter Fifteen
Abigail felt her frustrations rise as the next several days provided more of the same. She wasn’t certain exactly what had happened out there in the meadow on Sunday, but if he didn’t want to be more than friends, then so be it. Sure it stung, but she’d get beyond it. Why couldn’t Seth?
Whenever she crossed paths with h
im he was polite, but nothing more. And while she made an extra effort on a few occasions to seek out his opinion on some matter of decor, he seemed to be making a conscious effort to avoid her as much as possible.
It was infuriating and more than a little hurtful.
By Wednesday she’d had enough.
She waited until he went into the office, gave him a minute to get settled in, then followed him inside and shut the door behind her.
He looked up and must have seen something in her demeanor because his expression turned wary.
“We need to talk,” she said as she approached his desk.
He stared at her with a what-is-she-up-to look on his face, then leaned back. “If this is another discussion concerning which finish to select for the chair rail, there’s no need. Those matters are your concern. I have my own job to attend to.”
Had he forgotten he’d requested she consult with him? But that wasn’t what she wanted to focus on right now. “No, the discussion I want to have is of a more personal nature.”
A little tic near the corner of his mouth pulsed as he crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure exactly what bee you have in your bonnet right now, but whatever it is you need to speak your mind so we can get past it. If I did something to upset you, say so and let’s work it out.”
“Miss Fulton—”
“There, that’s exactly what I mean. I thought we’d gotten past the Miss Fulton and Mr. Reynolds stage. Something’s obviously changed and I don’t aim to leave this room until you tell me what it is.”
She waited, holding his gaze while he tried to intimidate her with the force of his stare. Finally he let out a breath and uncrossed his arms. “You’re right.” He waved a hand. “Do you mind if I speak frankly?”
He looked so serious that she almost backed down. But it was too late for that. So she tilted up her chin. “It’s what I came in here looking for.”
He gave a short nod. “As I’ve said before, finishing this job by Christmas is very important to me. I just don’t want to do anything to interfere with our ability to work together professionally and get this job done. Our relationship needs to remain on a purely business level. And Sunday afternoon, things seemed to be moving past that.”
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