Why did he have to look at everything from the standpoint of how it fit into his business plan? Didn’t he know there was so much more to life?
One day he’d figure it all out.
She just hoped it wasn’t too late.
Abigail finally made it to the hotel and rushed inside to find Seth standing rather irresolutely in the lobby. Apparently she’d missed Jamie’s send off.
“Did Jamie get off to school all right this morning?” she asked.
Seth stiffened. “I’d planned to walk him there since it was his first day, but Jack Barr came by and Jamie wanted to walk with him.”
Did she detect a disgruntled note in his voice? The man really was developing a soft spot for his nephew. There was hope for him yet.
“Don’t worry. Between the friends he made yesterday and Miss Bruder, I’m sure he will be well taken care of.”
She decided to change the subject. “What are your plans for today?”
“Walter Hendricks needs to make changes to one of his orders from the sawmill. I figured I’d take care of it for him so he and his sons can keep working.” Then he raised a brow. “Would you like to join me?”
She could tell the invitation had been offered on impulse, but that made it all the more intriguing. Already he seemed to be thinking better of it.
“That would be lovely,” she said before he could take back the offer. Then, afraid he’d take her eagerness amiss, she quickly elaborated. “I mean, it’s such a beautiful day, it would be a shame to spend it all indoors.”
He nodded, already looking back down at his papers. “I plan to head out in about thirty minutes.”
“Perfect. That’ll give me time to check in with the staff and make certain everyone is set for the day.”
As she left the office, Abigail felt surprisingly light-spirited. And why wouldn’t she with a nice ride in the beautiful sunshine to look forward to?
* * *
Seth clicked the reins, feeling relaxed for a change. It was a nice, sunny day, he was riding in an open carriage and he had a pretty girl by his side.
A girl who was an associate and pleasant company, nothing more.
“Have you heard back from Mr. Doyle?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Eldon Doyle was the engineer whom the elevator company had sent to look over the structure.
Seth nodded. “They expect to be back with the materials the week after Thanksgiving.”
“How does that fit into your schedule?”
“It makes it a little tighter than I’d like, but we should still be able to meet the deadline.”
Then she folded her hands in her lap and cut him a hopeful glance. “Are you ready to discuss the hotel-manager position yet?”
Now was the time to tell her that he’d promised the job to someone else. But he hesitated and she spoke up first.
“Never mind,” she blurted out hastily. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot that way. After all, it’s only been a few weeks and there’s still time yet to make a decision. I’m just happy you’re willing to keep an open mind on the subject.”
Seth covered his guilty conscience with a change of subject. “How are things going with your plans for Christmas decorations?”
She gave a deep sigh. “I still haven’t settled on a theme yet.”
“Is it because you have too many ideas or not enough?”
She grinned at him. “A little of both I’m afraid.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one to me. How can it be both?”
“Well, I’m not having any trouble with ideas—ideas related to Christmas themes are easy to come up with. And that’s part of the problem. Every idea I think of is something I’m certain a half-dozen other folks will have come up with as well. I want something unique, something that will stand out, and I’m afraid ideas like that are proving difficult to find.”
“I see. Well, why don’t you tell me some of the ideas you’ve already discarded and maybe we can find a way to put an interesting or unique spin on one of them.”
The resulting discussion took them all the way to the sawmill and back. And though they came up with some absurd and nonsensical spins on some of her ideas, in the end she declared herself no closer to having a usable idea than she had been before.
* * *
Abigail sat in her library after lunch, cataloging and shelving that last shipment of books Judge Madison had sent her all those weeks ago.
She was thinking as much about her outing with Seth that morning as she was the books, though. She’d had a really good time. He’d been talkative and friendly and had really listened to what she had to say. He’d even made her laugh a few times with his absurd ideas of how to twist some traditional holiday themes. Christmas cowboys instead of shepherds, indeed. Jamie would probably love that one.
Perhaps, while Seth was still in an agreeable mood, she should approach him with another concern that had been niggling at her.
She popped up and headed for the office before she could lose her courage.
“Do you have a moment to discuss a matter of business?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Of course. Did you run in to a problem with the furnishings?”
“Not at all. Things are moving along according to plan there. This concerns the hotel itself.”
He frowned. “I’m listening.”
“We turned away another customer today, and that doesn’t sit right with me when we have rooms sitting empty.”
He relaxed, nodding agreement. “It’s not ideal, but there’s nothing we can do about it until the construction is complete.”
“Turning away business is not only costing us in missed income and plain old goodwill from the folks we refuse, but in some cases we’re also placing a true hardship on folks who have nowhere else to go.”
“I thought the boardinghouse was accommodating the guests we had to turn away.”
“Miss Ortolon can only accommodate so many.”
He folded his arms. “What do you suggest? I assume you have a plan of some sort.”
“Right now we only have three rooms open—those farthest from the construction. But there are four other rooms that, other than the noise, are perfectly fine. The other three need to remain closed but let’s open those four back up at a reduced rate with the understanding that the occupants acknowledge there will be a lot of daytime racket to put up with. Many of the guests will be happy to agree to that for the chance to have a comfortable place to sleep at night.”
He rubbed his chin. “If we do this, it’ll mean additional work for everyone. And probably more guest complaints to deal with.”
“I thought of that. But since we’ll be hiring additional staff in four to six weeks anyway, perhaps we could hire one additional person now. A woman who could work part-time as kitchen help and part-time as maid.”
She watched him think through what she’d suggested.
“I can also pitch in occasionally if things get tight,” she added.
He finally nodded. “It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought. I don’t suppose you already have someone in mind for us to hire.”
She ignored the hint of sarcasm in his tone. “As a matter of fact, I do. I think Cora Schmidt would be perfect. She’s young, healthy and eager to find work. She’s also a widow who’s struggling to put food on the table for herself and her mother.”
“Ask her to come in tomorrow and I’ll talk to her.”
* * *
Seth felt the full force of Abigail’s smile. If he wasn’t careful, he would find she’d turned the hotel into a refuge for widows and orphans.
Perhaps it was his turn to ask a personal question.
“Tell me, why is getting the job of hotel manag
er so important to you? It’s a rather unusual ambition for a young lady, isn’t it?”
She raised a brow. “So you share Jamie’s opinions that girls just like tea parties and silly stuff?”
“Not at all. I said it was unusual, not silly. I’m just curious about your particular reasons.”
She reached up and fingered her collar. “Getting the job of hotel manager would not only provide me with a salary, but it also comes with living quarters. Which would come in very handy for me since it’s time I moved out of my brother’s home and set out on my own.” She tilted up her chin. “Besides, I think I’d be good at it.”
Seth chose to focus on the part of her statement that made him the least uncomfortable. “Your brother asked you to move out?” Even though he didn’t know Everett Fulton well, and had reason to distrust him based on that scandal he’d been involved in back in Philadelphia, he could tell the man was very fond of his little sister. He just couldn’t see him kicking Abigail out.
“Not yet.”
“So what makes you think he will?”
“With a new baby on the way, his family is growing and the living quarters are getting a bit cramped. They need more room, which means I need to move out.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, dropping her gaze away from his. “I don’t want to put him and Daisy in the position of either having to kick me out or suffering in silence.”
“So you’re just assuming they want you to move out, you haven’t actually discussed it with them.” More than likely she was making mountains out of molehills here.
She glared at him. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”
“I did. I still think you’re reading too much into the situation. Your brother is not going to just throw you out.”
Her lips thinned and her eyes took on a bitter light. “He did once before when he put me in that boarding school.”
Seth felt that blow as if it had been aimed at him. He knew exactly how her brother must have felt. “You were five years old and he likely didn’t know what to do with a kid. You’re not a kid anymore.”
That unsettling bitterness he’d sensed in her disappeared, replaced by a guilty flush. “Yes, of course. I didn’t really mean that.” Then she lifted her chin defiantly. “Still, my moving out is undeniably the best thing for everyone, so my decision stands. And this time it’ll be my decision to leave, not his.”
A very telling choice of words. “So you’re saying your whole future hinges on you getting the job of hotel manager.”
“Not entirely. That’s just my best option. But one way or the other, I’m moving out of their home before their baby comes.”
“One way or the other—what does that mean?” He had an alarming vision of her running away again, the way she had once before.
“There’s another job that will be coming available around Christmas, one that would also provide a place for me to live.”
So she had an alternative. He was guiltily relieved he wasn’t going to completely ruin her plans of independence. “And what might this other job be?”
“It’s working for Mrs. Ortolon at the boardinghouse.”
That didn’t sound so terrible. Not as prestigious as being a hotel manager perhaps, but not everyone could start at the top. “I would think all of your experience at the hotel would come in quite handy at a boardinghouse.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Are you saying I won’t be getting the hotel-manager job?”
“I’m saying you need to stop pretending it will be the end of your world if you don’t. You don’t know for sure that your brother wants you gone. And you just said yourself that you have another option in the boardinghouse job.”
“Well, whatever the case, I’m not giving up on this one just yet. Not until you tell me I have absolutely no chance of getting it.”
As she flounced out of the office, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to convince himself he had no need to feel guilty. After all, he’d never promised her the manager job—in fact, he’d done just the opposite. It wasn’t his fault she continued to hold on to this irrational hope.
As for her reasons, should he talk to Everett, let the man know what his sister was feeling? If the positions were reversed, he was sure he’d want to know.
Then again, did he want to get in the middle of what was really none of his business? Abigail was his partner, not Everett. To go behind her back in such a way felt like the worst sort of betrayal, even if it was for her own good.
He had enough to deal with knowing he couldn’t give her the job she wanted.
Best to let well enough alone for now.
* * *
Wednesday morning, James Hendricks, the youngest of the Hendricks boys, came racing through the hotel lobby. “There’s been an accident—Pa’s hurt. I’m going get Doc Pratt.” And with that he raced out the door.
“Oh, my goodness.” Abigail turned to Darby. “Have Ruby get some cloths and fresh water ready in case they’re needed. I’ll let Mr. Reynolds know.”
She was already headed to the office as she spoke.
Pushing through the door, she gave Seth the news. “There’s been some kind of accident—Mr. Hendricks is hurt.”
He was out of his seat before she finished talking. “How badly?”
“I don’t know. That’s all James said as he ran out to fetch the doctor.”
Without another word, he headed out the door, and Abigail was right behind him. They climbed the stairs in the new wing together. While Seth couldn’t exactly race up them, she was surprised at the pace he managed.
They found Walter sitting on the floor, leaning against a barrel. Calvin was bent over him, examining his left arm. The young man’s gaze shot up when Seth and Abigail approached, but his expression fell as soon as he recognized them.
“I thought you were Doc Pratt.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Seth said as he crossed the room. “What happened?”
“Pa was sharpening the saw blade and the thing slipped, slicing his hand.”
Abigail saw the hand in question had been wrapped with a cloth of some sort that was now soaked with blood. Walter Hendricks looked pale and shaken.
“Mr. Reynolds, I’m sorry, sir. It was careless of me, I know. I just—”
Seth cut off his apologies. “Let’s not worry about that right now. First we need to get your hand taken care of.”
Ruby showed up with the rags and pitcher of water and let out a little screech.
“So much blood. Oh, my, I can’t look.”
Abigail took the supplies from the woman, blocking her view. “Thank you, Ruby, I’ll take those. You just go on back downstairs.”
Dr. Pratt arrived a few minutes later and cleared the room of all but Calvin.
As they headed back down the stairs, Abigail touched Seth’s arm briefly. “I’ll have Ruby make up one of the unused rooms in case it’s needed.”
Twenty minutes later Dr. Pratt met them in the lobby. “Walter’s boys are taking him home. He’s going to be okay but I don’t want him using that hand for another four or five days. Understand?” The question was aimed at Seth.
Seth nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Walter and his boys joined them. Walter was obviously shaken and quite pale but he was walking unaided. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. Reynolds. But my boys will be able to keep working while I’m recuperating. Calvin has a good head on his shoulders and can direct James.”
“You just rest up so you can come back when you’re fit.” Seth rubbed the back of his neck. “In the meantime, is there someone you can recommend who could help out while you’re recuperating?”
“Simon Tucker might be able to lend a hand. He works with Hank Chandler over at the sawmill. Of course, there’s any number of men around here who can swing a
hammer, but they’d need some supervision and that would take away from the time these two can do their job.”
“I’ll check with Mr. Tucker this afternoon.”
As it turned out, Simon Tucker could only commit to work half days, but Seth figured it was better than nothing. He would pitch in himself as much as he could, work in the office until it was time to get Jamie off to school, then spend as many hours as he could spare working with the builders until Jamie returned home.
On Friday afternoon, Jamie approached him, his expression earnest. “Can I help, Uncle Seth? I’m a good worker.”
Seth was touched by the boy’s concern, and treated the offer with the gravity it deserved. “I know you are, Jamie. But you have another job to do that’s just as important.”
“I do?”
“Absolutely. Your job is to do your homework, keep up with your studies and be the best student you can be.”
The boy frowned. “That’s not a job.”
“Of course it is. It’s what will build you into the man you will be someday. And I won’t be able to do my job if I’m worried that you’re not doing yours. So you see, by taking care of your schoolwork, you’re helping me focus on my own work. Can I count on you to do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
Seth put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Thank you. You make me proud.”
The glow of pride that statement put on Jamie’s face was a fine sight to see.
By Saturday, Walter Hendricks could no longer stay away. He showed up at the job, and though Calvin kept telling him he was just there to observe and give direction, Seth saw the man wielding a hammer with his good hand on more than one occasion.
They might make the Christmas deadline after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As the three of them sat down for lunch in the hotel dining room on Saturday morning, Jamie turned to Abigail. “The other kids at school were talking about a Thanksgiving Festival. What’s that?”
Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 17