“That’s good. Sarah says she and Harriet did all kinds of odd things to you during the night.”
Nancy Ann chuckled, but that made her cough. “I think they enjoyed it, too—I’m pretty sure I heard them cackling like witches over a cauldron. Their potions seem to have worked, though, so I’m not complaining too much. Tell me what’s going on down there in the land of the living. I see that the sun’s shining.”
“It is—isn’t it beautiful? Let’s see—the girls are starting some laundry, Tom’s shoveling the rest of the walkways around the hotel, and I’m up here visiting with you. Sarah’s cousin left on the last west-bound train, and there’s someone waiting for you in the parlor.”
“I thought Timothy would have gone home a long time ago,” Nancy Ann said, reaching for the cup of tea on the tray.
“Oh, it’s not Timothy.”
Nancy Ann raised an eyebrow. “It’s not? Who is it, then?”
“Mr. Gilbert Howard,” Giselle replied with a sing-song note in her voice. “He said not to wake you, but that he’d like to visit with you when you’re free.”
Nancy Ann looked down at her rumpled nightgown. “I’m not at all certain that I’m up to a visit. I must look a fright.”
“You look beautiful,” Laura said weakly from across the room. She and the baby were so quiet, Nancy Ann had forgotten they were there.
“Thank you, Laura.” Nancy Ann finished her tea, then sighed. “I might as well go down and see what he wants.”
“You don’t sound excited about it,” Giselle said.
“I’m not, and I don’t know why. He’s not a bad fellow, and we did have a nice visit the other night. I just . . . I don’t know.”
“He’s not Timothy Hancock,” Giselle supplied.
“I think that’s probably it.” Nancy Ann felt embarrassed at the admission, but why should she? There was nothing at all wrong with fancying the good-looking banker. She smiled as she remembered seeing him asleep in the parlor chair. His neck must be so sore today because of it.
“I’ll come down, but I’d like to clean up first,” she said at last.
“I’ll let him know, and I’ll bring up some warm water for your basin. I have a whole pot of hot melted snow just for you.”
“You make it sound like a treat.”
“Oh, but it is. Most people wash up in regular old water. You get the luxury of bathing in snow. It’s much more exotic.”
“If you say so.” Nancy Ann shook her head and climbed out from beneath her covers. She was more than ready to start moving around, eager to get back to work, but she knew that would need to wait another few days.
Giselle came back with hot water. Once Nancy Ann was freshened up, she descended the stairs, wishing her knees felt a little less like jelly. Gilbert stood up to greet her as soon as she entered the parlor.
“Hello. You’re looking better.”
“Thank you. I believe I feel mostly better.” That was only a partial lie. She made her way over to a chair and sank into it, wishing the climb down the stairs hadn’t tired her out so much. Gracious—it seemed that every time she thought she was mending, she was proven wrong.
Gilbert sat down across from her. “I’ll be heading back to Denver soon, but I didn’t want to leave before I’d had the chance to say goodbye and make sure you were all right.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you.”
“And there was also something I wanted to say.” He leaned forward, suddenly seeming anxious. “I realize we’ve only known each other for a few days, and most people would consider that far too soon for any such thing to take place, but my feeling is, out here in this wild territory, we have to take the opportunities that come our way. If we don’t act when we feel the impulse, we might lose out on precious opportunities. Don’t you agree?”
Nancy Ann blinked. “I’m not sure whether you’re talking about a courtship or a business merger.”
Gilbert laughed. “I admit, I could be going about this better. The fact is, from the moment I first saw you, I found myself drawn to you. Your beauty, of course, but also your sweetness of character and your determination. These are qualities I admire very much, and I would like to ask for your hand in marriage.”
Nancy Ann blinked again as she tried to hold back her sharp exclamation of surprise. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said after a moment had passed. “I thought we were just becoming friends.”
“That was my original aim, but the more time we spend together, the more time I want to spend together. I can give you a comfortable home in Denver, where you’d make friends and have a generous allowance to decorate or shop or whatever else you’d like. Fine dining, travel—and most of all, a husband who would adore you, because I sense that none of this matters to you without love.”
Nancy Ann shouldn’t have been surprised—the other waitresses had been hinting at this very thing. However, she was surprised, and she didn’t have an immediate response.
“You have certainly given me a lot to think about,” she said at last. “And you make it all sound wonderful. I’m sure we could be quite happy together but for one thing—I believe that when two people are supposed to be together, their hearts will tell them. I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel that we’re meant to be anything more than friends.”
Gilbert looked down at the rug, then back up. “And there’s no chance of that changing?”
Nancy Ann wanted the answer to be different. She didn’t like the look of sadness on his face—she didn’t want to hurt him. But even after examining her feelings for a moment, she couldn’t find anything that would give him hope. “I’m sorry, Gilbert. I really am.”
He sat back and nodded, an expression of resignation on his face. “Thank you for telling me kindly. It would have been harder to take if you’d chosen to be quick or unkind, but then, that’s not your way. You’re far too generous for that.”
“I will always count you among my friends, if that makes any difference.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Just then, the whistle sounded for the next train, and Nancy Ann heard the scurrying feet of the waitresses as they prepared to meet their new guests. “I believe I’ll take this next train back to Denver,” Gilbert said, standing up. “I’m already packed, and as there’s no reason to stay . . .”
“Will you have this last meal with us before you go?” she asked, wanting to change the subject away from her refusal.
“Yes, I believe I will.”
The door to the lobby opened, and customers began to stream in. One man stood off to the side, looking uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he should join the others or stay where he was.
“May I help you?” Nancy Ann asked as she came to her feet.
He fumbled in his pocket. “I hope so. I have a telegram here from a Mr. Brody. He says my wife and baby are here. Her name’s Laura. Laura Taggart. I’ve been working to send money home, and I guess she was on her way to see me or something.”
“Of course. I’ll take you right to them.” Nancy Ann motioned toward the stairs, but then paused and looked back at Gilbert. “I truly am sorry.”
“I understand.” He nodded, as though giving her absolution, then turned and went into the dining room. She watched him go before smiling at Mr. Taggart.
“Just up these stairs, please.”
“That your young man?” he asked as he followed her.
“He’s not, but he’d like to be,” she replied.
“Ah. I see.” He chuckled. “I remember having a broken heart a time or two myself. But the thing is, once I met Laura, none of that mattered anymore. She made it all stop hurting.”
Nancy Ann liked the sound of that, and she hoped that someone wonderful would come along for Gilbert.
By the time they reached the attic, she was exhausted, but the joy of reuniting Laura with her husband kept her going. She went first to make sure the way was clear and that one of the waitresses hadn’t come upstairs to change, then called, “C
ome on up.”
Mr. Taggart approached the bed where his wife and son lay almost as if he were approaching the Nativity. The feelings of love and awe that radiated off him were palpable from across the room. “So we have a little man,” he said softly.
“Elliot? Is that you?” Laura’s eyes flew open. “How did you get here? How did you know where I was?”
“Owner of the hotel tracked me down and sent me a telegram. Sure glad he did—you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“They’ve taken excellent care of me. I didn’t know they were sending for you. Mr. Brody’s wife asked me where you worked, but I had no idea you’d actually come.”
He brushed the hair back from her forehead and kissed her, then looked down at their son again. “He’s perfect.”
Nancy Ann felt like she was intruding. “I’ll leave you two, but please let us know if you need anything. I’ll have one of the girls bring you both up a tray.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Nancy Ann,” Laura said, her eyes not leaving her husband’s face.
Nancy Ann made her way back down both flights of stairs, completely winded by the time she reached the main floor again. She sank into a parlor chair, determined not to move from that spot for at least an hour.
Mr. Brody passed by a moment later. “Hello there. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m not going anywhere near those stairs for a long time. You did an excellent thing, by the way.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Sending for Laura’s husband. He arrived just now.”
“Good, good. I hoped he’d make it. Sounds like he came as soon as he got my telegram.”
Nancy Ann nodded. “I was thinking that we should move them down to room two, now that we’re not overwhelmed with guests. That would give their little family some privacy.”
“Excellent idea. Thank you for thinking of it.”
Nancy Ann asked him if he’d mind sending one of the waitresses upstairs with a tray, and then she moved over to the sofa and settled in. No, sir—she was not going near those stairs again.
Chapter Twelve
Timothy had left Nancy Ann alone all day—one of the longest days of his life. The bank wouldn’t be reopening until Friday, leaving him two days to see to his house and make sure everything was in order. It only took him a short time to bathe, and even shorter to do a quick inspection and make sure that the house hadn’t been damaged in the harsh weather. It was fine, which was actually a surprise—he didn’t think it had been constructed all that well to begin with. Now he had nothing to do at all except perhaps re-reading the books on his shelf or arranging his handkerchiefs to fit more squarely in his drawer. It was time to head back to the hotel before he drove himself mad.
When he stepped inside, he saw Nancy Ann in the parlor. Well, that was easy—it would save him the hassle of looking for her. She seemed worn out, though, and he immediately became concerned. She wasn’t overdoing, was she?
“Well, hello,” she called out when he entered. “The meal just ended, but I’m sure there’s plenty left.”
“Maybe in a minute. I’m here to see you.”
“That’s a pleasant change. People usually come for Sarah’s cooking first and visits afterward.”
He took the seat across from her after taking off his coat and hat. “Are you all right? You seem a bit tired.”
“I am, actually. I’d never realized it before, but this hotel is almost entirely comprised of stairs.”
“You never realized it?”
“Not until climbing them made me huff and puff. I remind myself of a smokestack.”
Timothy chuckled. “You should go back to bed.”
“I would, if my bed wasn’t on the top floor. No, I’m actually fine down here—I was feeling a bit left out so far away from everyone. From here, I can see people come and go, and I don’t feel quite as lonely. Grace even brought me a tray and I ate right here. I tell you, I’m becoming spoiled.”
“Perhaps you deserve a little spoiling.” He took a deep breath, wondering if he had the courage to say everything he wanted to say. This setting seemed wrong—there should be a moonlit garden, a soft breeze lifting the curls from her face, perhaps the strains of a violin coming from a party. “I wonder if—”
Just then, she started to cough. It was nothing like the coughing she’d been doing before, and she recovered much more quickly, but it reminded him that she really had been quite sick. Awkward settings could be overcome, but if she still felt ill, he could wait.
“What do you wonder?” she asked.
He glanced around the room until his eyes fell on a chessboard that had been set up for the enjoyment of the guests. “I wonder if I could interest you in a game of chess.”
She tilted her head to the side. “What have you heard?”
“I beg pardon?”
“Oh, so you haven’t heard about me? Well, Mr. Hancock, just to be fair, I should warn you that I happen to be an excellent chess player. I’ve soundly beaten Mr. Brody, Sarah, Giselle, and Pastor Osbourne—and Pastor Osbourne was a very formidable opponent.”
“Are you giving me an opportunity to back out?”
“Only if you want one.”
He looked into her beautiful dark eyes. He loved this side of her—this feisty, independent side that had probably served her well many times over the years. “I don’t want one.”
“Well, I shall rest comfortably in the knowledge that you were warned.”
He carried the chessboard from the corner and set it up on the small table between the sofa and chair. “Which side are you?”
“Well, the North, of course.”
His gaze flicked to her face. She was obviously teasing and wanted to gauge his reaction. “In a case like that, ma’am, seems only right that you go first, considering that the North won the war.” He let his Southern accent come through, even though he usually tucked it away.
“That’s very kind of you, sir.” She picked up a white pawn, moved it, and with that, the contest began.
She was quick, that was certain, but not that he’d ever had cause to doubt it. She seemed to anticipate his every move and thwart him. When it came down to the last few pieces, he had to concentrate with everything in him just to stay out of her way—attack was impossible. Now he was just focusing on survival.
“I believe, Mr. South, that we could spend several hours in this little dance and never arrive at a conclusion. Let’s just call it a stalemate and try again another time, all right?”
“That sounds good to me.” Timothy put the pieces away and returned the board to its corner. “I fear I’ve tired you out. Why don’t I come back tomorrow? We can eat lunch together and maybe try again with our game.”
“I’m not tired,” she said, but not one second passed before she was hiding her yawn behind her hand. “I’m sorry. You made me think of it, and now I’m sleepy.”
“Get what rest you can. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Timothy gave her a nod and a little wave, then gathered up his coat and hat. He was loath to leave, but how could he expect her to keep entertaining him when she was so obviously worn out? It wouldn’t be right, and he didn’t have the heart to do anything unkind to Nancy Ann Morgan.
***
A full night and several hours of sleep later, Nancy Ann finally felt like herself again. Her lungs were still a bit sore, but she was able to inhale more deeply than she had in a few days, and her cough was now infrequent and minor. She stood on the porch of the hotel in a beam of sunlight, raising her face to the sky so as not to miss one speck of the glorious magic that was a sunbeam on a winter day.
“I think you have something in common with our little feathered friends.”
She opened her eyes to see Timothy coming up the sidewalk. “I beg your pardon?”
He motioned over to the fence, and she laughed. Several robins had lined up and looked like they were also basking in the warm rays.
“Perhaps I do. Is it really lunchti
me already? I thought for sure it was still morning.”
“Well, it is morning, but truth be told, I couldn’t wait to come over. This is my last free day before I head back to work, and I wanted to spend it with you.”
Unexpectedly, her heart gave a little thump. That was such a kind thing to say, and the way his eyes lit up when he said it—she glanced away, suddenly shy. “No one else is in the parlor, so we should be uninterrupted in our game.”
“I hate to take you away from the sunshine. You look as though you missed it.”
“I did. Oh, how I did.” She took another deep breath of that warm air tinged with cold, then smiled. “Come inside. I’ll visit the sun again later.” She motioned toward the door again, but he hesitated.
“Actually, will you come down here?”
“Um, you mean, down there on the sidewalk?”
“Yes, please.”
What an odd request. “All right. I’ve never played chess on a sidewalk, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
He took her hand and guided her to a specific spot. She couldn’t tell what made it more special than all the other spots, but it was nice and warm, so she couldn’t complain. Then he handed her a small branch from one of the trees that grew on either side of the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry—I’m to stand here on the sidewalk and hold a stick?”
He shook his hand. “Oh, no, no. You are standing in a shaft of moonlight and holding a long-stemmed rose.”
“I see.” She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. She had no idea what was going on, but he was certainly adorable, whatever he was doing.
“And now for me.” Timothy went to one knee in front of her and took her free hand. “Now that the mood has been set, I feel as though I can properly say what I’ve wanted to say almost since the day you opened your account at the bank. I met you. But first, how do you feel? Are you feverish at all? Sore throat? Aches and pains?”
“I’m actually fine at the moment,” she said, amused. Was he really interrupting a marriage proposal to ask about her health?
“Good. I’ll proceed then. Nancy Ann Morgan, I find you fascinating and intriguing. You have so many little odd corners and unexpected qualities, I am kept on my toes every minute. Most of all, I find that I’ve fallen quite in love with you. I realize this is very sudden, but I’ll take the risk anyway—will you marry me?”
The Calm of Night (Kansas Crossroads Book 10) Page 8