She halted in her tracks and fisted her hands on her hips. “You take that back.”
My, but she looked magnificent when she got riled. “Prove me wrong.”
She glared at him a moment longer, then grinned. “All right, but you have to enter as well. If I come in second again at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I beat you.”
“Why, Miss Fulton, are you issuing me a challenge?”
“Absolutely.”
“Accepted.” He crooked his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”
* * *
Abigail liked this side of Seth, the side that could relax and have fun. It was a shame he didn’t show this side of himself more often. They reached the tables where the apple-peeling contest was being held, just as the last call for contestants went out. They quickly took seats across from each other and waited for the bell to sound as they listened to the rules. Each contestant had three apples in front of them, which meant two extra chances if they weren’t happy with their first attempt. At the end of twelve minutes it was knives down and whoever had the longest peel won.
Just as Abigail saw the mayor reaching for the bell, she caught Seth’s gaze and gave him a sassy wink. It startled him so much he lost several seconds time when the bell rang.
With a grin, she settled down to business, tuning everything else out but the knife and the apple. A quarter of the way through her first attempt the peel broke. She tossed it aside and reached for another apple. This one went much better. She focused on taking her time and keeping the strip uniformly narrow and thin. This time she got through the entire piece of fruit without a break.
Glancing up triumphantly, she was surprised to see Seth watching her, a cocky grin on his face, a perfect strip of peel in front of him.
She should have known someone as meticulous as he was would be good at this.
A moment later time was called. The contestants who were obviously out of the running left the table, leaving five contenders—she and Seth among them.
Hazel Gleason, the judge for this event, came around with her measuring tape. Finally, she stood at the head of the table. “The results are in, and it’s a close one. With a length of twenty-nine and six tenths of an inch, Asa Samuels wins third place.”
Asa went up to receive his yellow ribbon amid applause from those gathered around.
Hazel stepped up again. “With a length of thirty and three quarter inches, second place goes to a newcomer in our midst, Seth Reynolds.”
Seth looked genuinely surprised when his name was announced and the smile he gave her was almost apologetic.
Abigail stood and clapped for him as he joined Asa at the front and accepted his red ribbon. She was pleased to see Jamie had been watching and had run up to congratulate his uncle.
Hazel raised a hand as she prepared to speak again. Abigail stood alongside the other two remaining contestants, one of whom was last year’s winner, Lionel Jenkins.
“And the winner, with a peel that measures an impressive thirty-one inches on the nose, is Abigail Fulton.”
Abigail was stunned. She walked up to the front to receive her ribbon and saw Jamie jumping up and down and Seth giving her the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face.
Abigail accepted her ribbon and then turned to Seth. “I suppose the third time is a charm after all.”
“Far be it from me to say I told you so, but...”
“Look at us,” Jamie said proudly. “We all have ribbons to take home.”
“So we do.” Abigail stared at Seth over the boy’s head. Did this, the three of them standing together and celebrating, feel like a family to him, too? Because it certainly felt that way to her.
It was getting on toward late afternoon now, and the sound of a fiddle tuning up drifted across the grounds. Like the pied piper, it drew folks from all corners to gather round.
Abigail smiled as she saw Constance and Calvin holding hands as they approached the area set aside for the dancers. It was about time the two of them acknowledged their feelings for each other.
Jamie excused himself to rejoin his friends and for a moment she and Seth stood in companionable silence. After a moment Abigail found herself swaying to the music. She’d always loved to dance.
“Feel free to join your friends if you like. I don’t mind.”
Abigail felt her face warm. It hadn’t been her intention to hint that she wanted to leave him so she could dance. “Don’t you like to dance?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked smile, and lifted his cane a few inches off the ground. “This third leg makes dancing a bit difficult.”
“Nonsense. You might not have the most graceful stride, but I’ve seen you maintain extraordinary control when you need to.” She raised a brow. “Besides, I didn’t ask if you were good at it, I asked if you liked it.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never tried.”
She nodded. “Then it’s time, don’t you think?”
He glanced at the dance floor that was fast becoming crowded and she saw the trepidation in his expression. Taking his hand, she gave it a gentle tug. “Let’s go for a walk.” She wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment she saw in his expression. Maybe a little of both.
But he didn’t move. “You should stay. I’m sure there are any number of young men who would be happy to escort you out on the dance floor. I’ll go check on Jamie.”
“Jamie is fine. And I don’t want to dance with any of the other young men right now.” She tugged at his hand again and this time he gave in. She led him away from the crowds until she found what she was looking for—a nice level bit of ground, sheltered from the view of most folks milling about. “This looks like a good spot for your first lesson.”
“Lesson?”
His reaction was almost amusing. “Dance lesson. We have relative privacy here but we’re still close enough to hear the music.”
He pulled his hand from hers. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“You’re not backing down from a challenge, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just being practical. You can’t teach a frog to fly. You can’t teach a pig to walk upright.” He clenched his jaw. “And you can’t teach me to dance.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Your logic is faulty. You are neither a frog nor a pig. And you have the advantage of having me as a teacher.”
His lips quirked up in a crooked kind of grin. “And I’m sure you’re a mighty fine teacher. But my leg is what it is and you can’t change that.”
“I don’t intend to change it.” She eyed him steadily. “Do you trust me?”
* * *
Seth hesitated a moment. Did he trust her? Finally, he nodded.
She rewarded him with a dazzling smile. “Good. Now, set your cane aside—you can lean it against the tree. Hold on to me to keep your balance.”
Holding on to her would definitely not be a hardship. Whether it was a good idea or not was another matter entirely.
She took one of his hands and placed her other lightly on his shoulder. Then she directed him where to place his free hand. “Now, we’re going to move very slowly and deliberately to start off. Listen to the music and let it guide you. I’ll follow wherever you lead.”
He liked the sound of that. And the warmth of her hand in his. Being this close to her was a kind of sweet torture.
“Keep your eyes focused on mine, not on your feet,” she chided as they began. “Dancing is about anticipating your partner’s moves, communicating without words.”
He stumbled slightly but she paused, allowing him to lean his weight on her a moment and then they picked up the rhythm once more. He managed to get through the rest of the piece without stumbling again, though he was sure she’d never had a more graceless partner.
Somehow, that didn’t bother him as much as it once might have. Holding her in his arms this way, feeling her warmth and supple movements, it was near intoxicating. He had a fierce urge to protect her and cherish her, to claim her as his own. He’d never felt quite this way about anyone before.
The music started up again almost immediately and he was ready to go again. This time, though, it was she who stumbled midstep and he barely managed to steady her without going down himself. But the movement brought them closer still, as if they were embracing. Abigail’s eyes widened, filled with a liquid light. Her breath caught and the sound of it cut through the last of his control.
Seth actually leaned in to bestow the kiss he so desperately wanted to give her when the sound of nearby voices broke the trance.
He pulled back slightly and loosened his hold.
She straightened, her gaze searching his in confusion and, dare he hope, disappointment?
What had he been thinking? Anyone could have walked up on them—if they had been caught in a kiss, or even embracing, it could have had serious repercussions for her.
Not to mention the implied promise it would give, a promise he could never fulfill.
But oh, it would have been so memorable.
He released her and offered his elbow. “Thank you for the dance lesson. What do you say we go see what’s left on the dessert table?”
With a nod, she placed her hand on his arm.
Was the tremble of her fingers due to the chill in the air? Or something more?
* * *
Abigail’s thoughts swirled in bright kaleidoscopic fragments. The look he’d given her when they’d fallen into that embrace, a look full of a fierce tenderness and yearning... No one had ever looked at her that way before. It was something that would stay with her the rest of her life, no matter what else happened between them. He’d wanted to kiss her. That it hadn’t happened was disappointing, to say the least. But what was important was that she could tell he’d wanted it as much as she had, as she did still.
The fact that he was back to being guarded and all gentlemanly didn’t change things one bit. Because she had hope now, hope that if he felt the same for her as she felt for him, perhaps there was a way they could work things out, after all.
And hope was a powerful thing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Seth exited the church Sunday morning still unsettled and on edge. He had yet to come to terms with his feelings for Abigail since their Thanksgiving day dance lesson a week and a half ago.
Abigail herself had seemed to suffer no such aftereffects, which should have been a relief but he found it left him even more out of sorts for some reason.
As had become their habit on Sunday mornings since Jamie had come to town, he let the boy play with some of his friends while he waited for Abigail to make her exit with the rest of the choir.
Several members of the congregation paused to exchange pleasantries with him. Strange how much he’d come to feel a part of this community. That had never happened on any of his other jobs, and some of those had lasted significantly longer.
Abigail stepped out of church just then, arms linked with Constance and her face alight with laughter. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. Goodness but he had it bad.
She approached him, her face still beaming with amusement. “Folks are getting excited about the elevator,” she said. “I’ve had no fewer than five people come up and ask me when it will be complete.”
The engineer had arrived Monday as promised and the project was well underway. But rather than taking the estimated seven days, Mr. Doyle had reported that it would take ten. Which meant a significant impact to Seth’s overall schedule, but he was still hoping to finish up, if not by Christmas, then before the New Year.
As they moved to collect Jamie, Abigail cut him a sideways look. “I was thinking perhaps we could take advantage of the interest it’s commanding and plan a reception of some sort once the elevator is in working order.”
An interesting idea, but he decided to pay devil’s advocate. It was always fun to watch her marshal her arguments. “What’s the benefit for us, besides building some goodwill with the townsfolk?”
She gave him a haughty look. “Goodwill is always good to have.” Then she grinned with an I’m-ready-to-convince-you look. “But yes, I had something more in mind. We can serve food from our kitchen, letting folks know about the new menu offerings to entice them to drop in more often. And we can hold the reception in our new guest parlor to let folks know it’s available to rent for parties and such. The holiday season is upon us, after all.”
“Now you’re thinking like a businesswoman. I agree that it makes sense. Is it something you think you could take the lead on planning?”
“Absolutely.”
When they arrived for lunch at Everett and Daisy’s, Abigail went around to everyone, collecting their “memory stars.” She’d passed them out the prior Sunday, giving strict instructions that she expected everyone to participate and wouldn’t take no for an answer. That had elicited some good-natured grumbling from the menfolk, but Seth wasn’t surprised to see that every one of them handed her a star with notes written on it. Few people could deny the intrepid Abigail when she made her won’t-you-please-help-me requests.
Later, as they sat around the lunch table, Abigail explained her idea about the reception to the others present and received enthusiastic offers to help with the planning and spreading the word. She even convinced her brother to print an announcement in his newspaper for free.
Was there any project she wasn’t afraid to tackle?
* * *
Abigail spent the next several days planning the reception. It was to be held on Saturday and she wanted everything to be perfect.
The guest parlor only lacked a few finishing touches to be complete, and Walter Hendricks promised to have it done before Saturday. Even the divider screen was ready. Chance had done an amazing job with the carving and the Hendricks men had constructed it exactly to her specifications.
She spent many an hour going over the menu with Della, always careful to give the woman opportunities to suggest changes and additions. Cora also contributed a few ideas based on family recipes and, in the end, they came up with something Abigail knew they could all be proud of.
By Wednesday afternoon the work on the elevator was officially complete and Mr. Doyle spent some time teaching the entire staff how to operate it. Except for Ruby. She declared it was a noisy mechanical closet and that she wasn’t about to trust it not to crash down with her in it. And no amount of assurances as to its safety could change her mind.
Abigail was worried about how Seth would react. But, with a resigned sigh, he merely told her she could continue to use the stairs so long as it didn’t interfere with the performance of her job.
When he’d first arrived, Seth would likely have dismissed the maid and replaced her with someone he considered more suitable. She felt a small glow of satisfaction at this further evidence of how much Seth had changed since his arrival here.
* * *
Friday morning the two of them were working in companionable silence in the office. Seth was grateful, not for the first time, that they’d set up this place to work together. It was good having her nearby. Having the ability to bounce ideas and questions off of each other. Having the opportunity to just look up and be able to watch her at work.
Then he grinned as he noticed a faint shimmer on the floor around her. She must have spent time in the library this morning. She and Jamie had spent all afternoon in there yesterday getting her memory stars ready to hang. Unfortunately, not all the glitter had landed where it was supposed to.
But her display was up now and he had to admit it looked great. Already it was garnering a lot of attention and several people had inquired if they could add the
ir own memory to the display. Abigail had left a stack of blank stars at the front desk for just that purpose, so her display was already growing.
Still smiling, Seth reached for the stack of correspondence that awaited his attention, then frowned when he noticed one of the letters was from Bridgerton.
He must have made some involuntary sound when he read it because Abigail looked up. “What is it? Not bad news, I hope.”
“No, in fact just the opposite. It’s from the headmaster at Bridgerton, assuring me they’ll be ready to reopen Jamie’s dormitory after the first of the year.”
As he’d known would happen, Abigail didn’t receive the news well. “I know it’s none of my business, but do you really need to send Jamie back to boarding school? Can’t you see how he’s thriving being under the same roof with you?”
He himself wasn’t nearly as pleased with the news as he should have been. But that couldn’t be helped. “I told you, it’s just temporary. In fact, I expect to be able to put down roots for the two of us very soon.”
“So, you plan to stop all this traveling you’ve been doing?”
“If things work out the way I’m planning, then yes, eventually.”
She looked skeptical, so he explained. “I’m in the middle of purchasing some property, a warehouse in a growing part of Philadelphia that I plan to convert and open as a hotel. I’ve already put down a considerable deposit and the balance comes due at the end of the year. Once I pay up, the Michelson property is mine.”
He saw a flash of understanding light her eyes. “Is that why you need to finish this job by Christmas?”
He nodded. She was certainly quick. “The bonus I get for this job, along with some other considerations I’m offering, will allow me to pay the purchase price in full.”
“And if you miss the deadline?”
He shrugged, though he felt far from nonchalant about the possibility. “The deal falls through and I not only lose the property, but my deposit as well.”
She gave a decisive nod. “Then we need to make certain you don’t miss it.”
Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 20