She waited, but he didn’t respond. The uneasy feeling lingered. She probably owed him an apology, too, except, would he take it? Experience led her to believe no one considered her being sorry as sincere or good enough. Yet, Bert had always seemed quick to smile despite her reserve. Maybe he behaved differently than she’d expected others to.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little curt with you. I happen to know the others aren’t fond of me.” She expected him to face her after the confession so she looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I assumed you’d listen to them, agreeing with their reasons why.”
“All right.”
She glanced up, seeing only his back as he brushed. Waiting a few seconds more for him to add anything else, the silence stretched out between them until she had to say, “So?”
He turned his head toward her. “What? I said sorry. You said sorry. We’re done here.”
His expression showed more than anger. The hurt mixed with hate took her by surprise. Having seemingly made an enemy by her focusing on his injury, she couldn’t let the misunderstanding continue one more minute. She might not be here to make friends, but she certainly didn’t want to make any more adversaries. “I am truly sorry. Will you accept my apology, then?”
“There’s nothing to accept, ma’am.” Bert took the horse’s bridle. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to put him up for the night.” He nodded at her bucket before leading the horse further into the stable. “Looks like you have chores to do, too.”
As he left with the animal, she stared for a few seconds before recovering from her surprise. She took a deep breath. Bert didn’t know her past. He couldn’t know what brushing off her sincerity meant. How many times she’d offered her momma an apology only to have her remorse ignored or ridiculed. Her nose stung with the beginning of tears. She refused to let his refusal hurt, too. He wasn’t worth crying over.
Matilda spun on a heel toward the back door of the hotel. She set the pail just inside the doorway before going up the back stairs to her small room. The place she’d been given wasn’t much larger than her mother’s crib at The House.
She sat on the small bed with a sigh. Small, but hers alone. No need to share with the other servers, maids, or God forbid the various male guests. She peeled off her shoes before removing her thin socks. She reached to turn down the lantern until a crinkle of paper rustled from her apron. The letter. She’d read it one last time and then burn the envelope in the morning. She pulled Gloria’s letter from her pocket, relearning how everyone at the brothel was. Mary had had her baby. Jane found herself a husband when he’d stopped by on his way west.
Matilda tsked to herself. Hoping for a savior in the form of a man was futile. Her mother still waited for Matilda’s father to come back to them. She scanned the words one last time as if to commit everything to memory before tearing the pages to tiny bits. If Gloria had been less of a caregiver to her than her own mother had been, she would have ignored the letter. She made sure the papers were in the envelope. First thing in the morning, she’d stuff it in the wood stove.
She changed into her nightgown before lying down. Work at the Gilded Swan kept her mind occupied until the evenings. Alone in her room gave her far too much time to think about her former home. She’d need to take time between mealtime shifts to buy a new book at the dry goods store. Losing herself in another world would let her forget a former life she hated.
Chapter Four
Matilda was the first thing on his mind when Bert opened his eyes the next morning. No doubt about it, he’d been as rude to her as she had been to him. Maybe worse. Part of him said she had it coming. The other part, the one his sister, Ellen, had raised, said no one deserved bad manners. She’d seen his bad hand, though, his one sore spot out of everything he’d endured in the past few years. All he wanted was more time before needing to answer intrusive questions. He didn’t mind curiosity. He just didn’t want to talk about that day.
Bert sighed, sitting up in the small bedroom. He rubbed his eyes, frustrated, before stretching. He didn’t want to apologize yet again to Matilda. If he did so, she’d refuse his peace offering, then come back to say she was sorry, too. The entire emotional dance was a time-consuming silliness to him. He’d just keep quiet around her today, accepting whatever she gave him, bad moods, and all. His work was with the horses, not in the kitchen anyway. The animals were far easier to deal with than any woman was.
He stood, putting on a shirt. The younger men might be a bit rowdy, but they seemed to be good-hearted unless talking about Matilda. If work didn’t go well today, he might consider changing his plans. He didn’t escape the Black Heart, learning new trades just to find trouble, Bert figured as he put on his boots. No. He’d earn enough to find employment somewhere calmer, with or without the Jones’s help.
Except, Matilda’s rare smile came to mind. He snorted at his budding infatuation for such a prickly woman. An honest man could admit nowhere else appealed as much as Bromley Hotel at the moment. Even discounting an interest in Matilda, he hadn’t been this far east since almost infancy. Bert wanted to stay put for a couple of months at least. The rugged terrain suited his spirit for a life on dry land in even dryer air. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, unwilling to leave unless the situation became unbearable.
The dark stable was silent as Bert scaled the ladder. Asa had tapped on his door on their way to breakfast before the morning rush of hotel guests leaving. He entered the kitchen through a back way Sam had told him about to find the area already bustling. Several young women hurried around with plates. Meanwhile Stew cooked alongside another man, lankier with a rowdy head of hair gleaming dark against his pale skin.
Matilda caught Bert’s eye at the same time she noticed him. He decided to be ornery, giving her his most charming smile and a wink. Her eyebrows rose before she blushed.
“Hey, stable boy.” The gravelly voice got Bert’s attention. The heavyset cook was facing him so he answered, “Yeah?”
“You better get breakfast before it’s gone.” The cook lifted his chin to indicate behind Bert. “Matilda, show him how to fix a plate?”
“Sure thing.” She handed a dish to him. “Here. The cooks shove the overdone food to the left. Help yourself.”
He looked at what she offered, snorting. Overdone? More like black on the edges. He grinned at her. “Nice way of saying burned.”
Her jaw dropped a bit before she returned his smile a little. “Not always. Sometimes over easy becomes over hard, chewy becomes crispy.” She took another plate. “It’s all a matter of perspective.” After loading up the dish, she held it out to him. “Here. Trade me for yours. Eat what you like, ignore what you don’t.” She waved a hand at him to move along. “Get going before everyone decides to leave at the same time.”
Bert chuckled at her grin. “You have a point, ma’am. Thank you.”
She pursed her lips as her smile faded. “You’re welcome. Now go. I’ll bring out coffee for you. Or Janie will, since she’s brewing a fresh pot.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bert gave her a mock salute on his way to the dining room. The three other stable hands sat together at a table. Might as well eat with them, he figured, to get better acquainted before work started. “Good morning,” he said. “Mind if I join you all?”
“Morning,” Clem said, gesturing to the open seat. The other men kept eating as he asked, “Sleep well?”
“Very, thank you.” He settled in, tucking into his food. As he ate, Bert had to admit Bromley took good care of them. The others’ plates were half-empty. “Am I late?”
“Naw,” Sam replied. “We’re just fast is all. Plus, we need to be ready for the guests to begin leaving.”
Asa stood. “Some of us need to go now.” He pushed his plate over to Clem. “If anything, with you here, we can leave someone at the stable just in case someone needs their horse.”
His mouth to full of egg to answer politely, Bert nodded before swallowing. “Goo
d idea. I don’t mind staying behind at mealtimes until you’re done eating.” Clem left the table, too. Bert bit into a biscuit, not quite knowing what to talk about with the younger boy, Sam. His silence didn’t bother Bert; he liked the chance to enjoy an almost home cooked meal. Even too well done, the food satisfied him. Bacon beat out seafood with rice any day. Each bite was better than the one before. Bert took a sip before asking Sam, “Do we ever have fish for dinner?”
“Sometimes when it’s fresh at the market.” Sam drained the last bit of coffee. “Wintertime gives us a lot more time for fishing. The fish swim as sluggish as the cold water runs. Not as many people stay at the hotel from November to March, so we build a fire at the river. A couple of us go at a time so there’s always someone here for the few guests we do get.”
Bert nodded, chewing his last bite of biscuit. The slowdown in the traveling season gave him a plan. With it being early May, he’d have enough time to see if he liked working here after all. If he didn’t, the several months until late fall gave him a chance to save up. His leaving during the slow season wouldn’t put an undue hardship on Bromley. The man had taken a chance on Bert. He didn’t want to return the favor by leaving the hotel shorthanded, even during the slow part of the year. “Fishing sounds like a good way to spend the winter.”
Sam stood but didn’t smile as Matilda approached. He said, “We just learned from the hands before us.” She took the dishes without a word. Sam said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Oh,” she replied, her surprise showing in how her voice was a little higher than normal. “You’re welcome. I was passing by so it’s no bother.”
As Sam left, Bert stood, too, reaching out for the plates she held. He clenched his left fist out of habit until remembering she’d already seen the worst of him. He let his fingers unfurl, saying, “I can clean up after us. No need for you to add us to your work.”
“I don’t mind.” A slight smile played around her lips as she took the plates. “It’s my job to clear tables for customers.”
He stepped aside when she reached behind him for the cups. Of course, she wasn’t being nice, but rather efficient. He gave her a nod. “Excuse me, then, so we can both get back to work.”
“Certainly. I hope you have a good day.” Her smile deepened. “Don’t get kicked in the head by an ornery horse or guest.”
Bert laughed. “I’ll try not to. Thanks for reminding me to be careful.”
“You’re welcome.” Matilda stared at the dirty plates she held, mumbling, “I’d better go.”
She hurried off before he could reply. Bert headed toward the stable, figuring he’d better get to work too. As he passed people hurrying to one work task or another, Matilda’s warming then cooling reactions said a lot more about her than she’d probably intended. Someone or something had hurt her enough for her to create a defense against the world. He returned one of the housekeeping maid’s smiles before continuing on. Matilda had probably earned the other stable hands’ mean comments, yet Bert was sure she didn’t deserve them.
***
The morning passed quickly as Bert helped the other boys with the guests’ horses. He didn’t have time to pause, wonder about who a person was or where he was going. Just as those staying overnight cleared out, people began arriving for lunch. By the time he slowed, his stomach rumbling was loud enough to make Clem laugh.
The younger man said, “Me too. Usually one of the girls has brought us lunch by now.”
“Hello? Are you ready to eat?” came a feminine voice from outside. The door creaked open. Bert glanced over to see one of the kitchen girls there. She smiled, walking up to them with four tin boxes. “The cooks wanted me to bring these to you.”
Sam nudged Bert into taking the boxes from the girl. “This here’s Janie, in case you hadn’t met. She’s a sight for sore eyes and, hungry stomachs.” Sam smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Janie blushed, wiping her hands on her apron. “I don’t know about that, but thank you. Enjoy your meals.” She smiled at Bert. “The others already know this, but Stew says bring them back yourself if you want dinner later.”
“Will do, miss. Appreciate you letting me know,” Bert replied, and then the boys broke out in hoots, hollers. Janie’s reddish color deepened as she hurried away. He shook his head, addressing the others. “Now, why’d you all go, teasing the poor girl like that?” Before any of them could answer, Bert took one of the boxes from Sam, leaning against a wall before looking inside. “Never mind telling me. She’s pretty when she blushes.”
“Sure is,” Clem said, digging into his own lunch box. He sat on a wooden crate. “I think she’s prettier than most of the other girls here.”
“You’re wrong there. Sarah is.” Asa pushed Clem over so he could sit beside him. “She has all that long, dark hair.”
“How do you know how long her hair is? She keeps it braided, twirling it around her head.” Sam leaned against an opposite wall, balancing his meal on one hand. “Nope. Janie is my pick.”
“Good, because that leaves Mary free for me,” Clem said. “Don’t get me wrong, Janie is nice, but I’d choose Mary any day. She’s sweet, quiet, like a girl should be.”
Bert couldn’t help but grin. No wonder none of them pushed back against Matilda’s sourness. They didn’t appreciate her spirit, preferring their women far more on the meek side. Janie seemed nice. She was shorter than Matilda, her hair darker. Janie also seemed to smile far more easily than Matilda did. All the other girls sounded pretty, if the boys’ opinions were anything to go by.
He picked out the crusty bread to take a bite of first. Chewing, he grabbed the cold hunk of roast beef, next. The apple looked good but could be dessert. Everyone liked an easy life, sure. He did as much as anyone. But anything easily won was easily lost, too. He brushed sourdough crumbs from the front of his shirt. The female enigma of Matilda was his choice even if she didn’t appeal to anyone else.
A rider in a buggy rolled up so Asa closed his lunch box, saying, “Reckon I was done eating anyhow.” He handed the box to Clem. “You all give your empties to Bert. Let him take them in.” Sam began to protest but Asa held up a hand. “Naw, you can give gawking at the girls a rest for today. Let him learn where to drop off our boxes.”
“I need to learn?” Bert said. As soon as he asked, he figured it was a dumb question. Of course, a busy kitchen would have specific rules. Otherwise, chaos ruled instead of order.
The trio cut glances at each other before Clem said, “Yeah. Matilda is pretty particular about what goes where. Stew just lets her be. Do it wrong once? You’ll learn quick afterward.”
Bert laughed. “Come on, now. She can’t be that much of a sharp tongued shrew.”
“She is,” Sam said as he brushed by Bert on his way out of the door. “You’ll see.”
Bert followed them out of the stable, not stopping at the rider’s rig. Instead, he hurried on to the hotel kitchen’s back door. He stepped into the large room, clanging with noises and, shouts. He blinked a couple of times as heat enveloped him. The server girls worked around the two cooks frying meat on the flat grill.
Matilda rushed in, giving him a double take. “So they sent you like a lamb to slaughter, did they?” She hurried to him, taking the boxes. “Chickens, all of them.”
He laughed at how well she had them figured out. “Yep, every last one of them. Good thing I’m a turkey with no sense of being afraid.”
Her jaw dropped for a few seconds before she gave him a huge smile. “I guess so.” She pulled him out of the way so Janie could get by them. “Trust boys to make a man take their punishment.”
“I’m getting punished? No one mentioned that.”
“Not yet you’re not.” She tilted her head before going over to a large washtub on a wooden table. She placed the boxes in a gap beside the washtub. “Put these anywhere but right here, I’ll come after you with a broom.” She smiled at Bert. “Although, judging by your face, I’d be better off fetching my razor, hogtyi
ng you, and then soaping you up for a shave.”
He ran a hand over the stubble. “Can’t say I’d complain. Being hogtied by you is a price I’m willing to pay for being a man.”
“Um hm.” She put a hand on her hip, still smiling at him. “You’re all talk now but wait until I dig up the rustiest razor this side of the Mississippi.”
Before he could reply, one of the servers hollered from the doorway, “Matilda! Janie just seated someone at one of your tables.”
“Thank you, Mary!” Matilda’s smile faded a little as she addressed Bert. “Duty calls. If you’ll excuse me?” She took a few steps past him before adding, “Remember, put your dinner boxes anywhere else this evening, I’ll make you wish you were a boy back at school instead of here.”
She swept from the room, digging a notepad out of her apron. Bert shook his head, unable to stop smiling. Under his breath so the cooks couldn’t hear, he said, “Lady, you sure do make me glad to be a man.”
Chapter Five
Yes, Matilda had to admit to herself during dishwashing; Bert would turn any lady’s head in his direction. She handed the clean fork to Mary. Janie was talking about the various guests they’d met, yet all she could think about was Bert. The way he’d strolled in with a smile. How nice it’d been just to talk with him as if he were a friend. The way he hid his injured hand from her by habit broke her heart. Everyone had something wrong with them, some worse than others. If the only thing missing on a good man were a few fingertips, she’d be happy with him.
She sighed, giving a butter knife to Mary. From his friendly demeanor, Bert was exactly the kind of man she needed to avoid at all costs. A good person like him would lure her in with kindness, then, she’d be tempted to tell him about her past. She couldn’t expect to escape something if she dragged it behind her like a ball with a chain.
The Sailor and The Shrew Page 3