by Cat Cahill
He blinked, finally, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he seemed to become aware of the rest of the room. “Have you got any of the beef stew that’s in the dining room?”
Elizabeth had no idea if they did or not. But she didn’t care. She’d go to the dining room herself and fetch him a bowl of soup if she had to. “Yes. I could get that for you.”
He nodded. There was no “thank you” or “that would be good” or any other sort of friendly nicety. Elizabeth could’ve laughed at herself. Here she was, willing to wait hand and foot on a man who was no better than her former husband. Colin had also had that way of looking at her as if she were the only person in the world, and she’d foolishly followed him anywhere he wanted to go. Judging from this man’s clothing and his lack of manners, he was also a cowboy.
Elizabeth had learned her lesson about cowboys.
“What I meant,” she amended, “is that I must ask one of the other girls. This is my first day here, and I’m not certain what we have.”
“All right,” the man said, his words a little clipped. She’d annoyed him, and part of her felt good about that. Yet she felt those eyes on her even as she walked to the far end of the counter.
She found one of the other waitresses, a petite girl with dark blonde curls bursting from her chignon, and asked her about the stew.
“You must be the new girl! I’m Genia. And yes, we can get the beef stew. We can get anything they have in the dining room, plus any soups the chef has made or any food left over from lunch. We take turns running orders back to the kitchen. I’ll take yours since I’ve already got a couple of my own.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, grateful for the help. She didn’t even know who to talk to in the kitchen. She’d have to ask Genia later. For now, she returned to the cowboy, who was watching her with neither a smile nor a frown. Elizabeth wasn’t certain what to make of that. Was he happy or upset? It didn’t matter much to her, except that she didn’t want an unhappy customer on her first day. “I can get your stew.”
That should have made him smile, but his expression remained impassive. “Thank you,” he finally said.
So he wasn’t entirely devoid of manners. Elizabeth glanced around the counter. The other customers appeared tended to. She supposed she was now required to make conversation with her customers. And seeing as this cowboy was her only one, she drew a deep breath and plunged in. “Are you staying at the hotel?”
“I am,” he said slowly as he leaned back in his chair.
Elizabeth clasped her hands together. Talking to this man was exasperating. And yet she felt compelled to know more about him. “Where are you headed?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She bit back a sharp reply. Experience had taught her that nothing good ever came from a retort. “I’m simply making conversation.”
He narrowed those lake-colored eyes. “Cañon City,” he finally said.
“Oh.” Elizabeth was at a loss for what to say next. She knew nothing about Cañon City aside from what she’d seen through the train window. And conversing was quite difficult when only one person made the effort. But Mrs. Ruby and Mrs. McFarland were depending on her. And unless she wanted to wash bedding and scrub floors, she needed to try harder to succeed at this job. “Are you going there for Christmas?”
“Christmas?” The man said the word as if he’d never heard it before.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said slowly. “Do you have family there for the holidays?”
“No.”
Elizabeth bit down on her lip. This was ridiculous. Where was that stew? Surely no one expected her to stand here and talk to this man as he ate. She forged ahead. “I adore Christmas. I especially love hanging boughs of pine and ribbons and cooking the Christmas meal. Even the saddest accommodations can look cheerful with a little decorating.” Her smile this time was genuine. Colin had never much noticed her efforts at Christmas, but the act of making their tiny shack festive had always lightened Elizabeth’s mood, even in the darkest of times.
The cowboy was staring at her again. She ran her hands over her apron and prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before that the stew would arrive. “What is your business in Cañon City then, if not to visit family?”
His expressionless face finally cracked, but not in the way Elizabeth hoped. He frowned, and that stare turned into a glare. “Work.”
“It doesn’t seem like something you’re much looking forward to,” she said lightly. She winced at her tone. It was the same one she’d taken time and again with Colin. The one she used when she tried to turn his anger into something else—anything else.
But the cowboy didn’t grow angry. Instead, he ran a hand through his dark hair and said, “You’re right. It isn’t.”
“Then you should find something else to do instead,” she said.
The little bit of life she’d been able to pull from him disappeared again into a sullen frown, and he said nothing at all.
“Miss?” An older man had joined the counter a few seats down. But Elizabeth couldn’t pull her eyes off the customer she already had. What was it that weighed so heavily on this man’s shoulders?
And why did she care?
“You have another customer,” he said, not looking at her at all now.
Elizabeth had to ask the older man to repeat his order several times before she could remember it. Genia returned with the blue-eyed cowboy’s beef stew as Elizabeth made her way to the kitchen to attempt to place orders. When she returned, the man was gone.
She was strangely disappointed. And then instantly frustrated with herself. The last thing she needed in her life right now was another cowboy.
Chapter Four
Landon exited the lunch counter room feeling as if he’d drunk a bottle of whiskey when in fact he hadn’t touched the stuff in years. The stew and the coffee had done him a world of good, but that woman . . . She threw all of his senses into a whirl. It was impossible for anyone to look as if they’d come straight down from heaven, and yet, there she was.
The way she kept talking to him, it was as if she didn’t care one whit that he made it clear he didn’t wish to converse. And yet, as she went on and on about Christmas, he almost didn’t want her to stop. Her voice was like music, soft and lyrical. Without even knowing him, she said the one thing that had gotten right to the heart of his unease.
Why couldn’t he do something else?
The answer was easy: there was nothing else. Not for him, anyway. And not if he wanted to change his situation fast. Of course, she wouldn’t understand that. With that angel face and those big, innocent eyes, she’d never believe him if he told her.
Finally feeling as if his feet would carry him to the front desk, Landon made his way there and requested a room from the pompous clerk. The man’s expression changed considerably when Landon withdrew the cash from his pocket. It was money he shouldn’t be spending, not if he intended to build up a spread of his own one day, and yet if he spent one more night out in the cold, he’d lose his mind completely.
Landon’s room was on the second floor, tucked back and away at the end of the hallway that stretched the length of the hotel’s south wing. It was comfortably appointed and filled with touches he imagined wealthy guests might appreciate. As for Landon, all that concerned him was the comfort of the bed and the warmth of the room.
But even after he lay down, worn out from riding, he found himself staring at the ceiling and imagining a pretty, golden brown-haired waitress telling him how important it was to hang stockings from the mantel. He smiled at the image. He’d never even asked her name.
And that was for the best. Frustrated, he turned over and forced himself to imagine what her expression might be if he told her why he was going to Cañon City.
That pretty pink mouth would frown and her eyes would narrow in judgment. Then she’d never speak to him again, which was just as well. He was better off on his own. Even if his reasoning was sound, it didn’t excuse the method by which he
planned to get what he wanted. No woman deserved to be with a man like him. Aimee had ensured he understood that well enough last year.
And she was right. He was too frustrated all the time. Too prone to acting on a whim. Devoid of any social graces. Nothing but a poor, filthy ranch hand. And by next week, when that angel downstairs was baking a Christmas pie and singing carols, he’d be an outlaw.
Chapter Five
“I’ve determined we need no less than eight different pies,” Penny, the tall girl with brown curls, said as she set down the napkin she was supposed to be teaching Elizabeth to fold.
“Eight?” Dora, the quieter girl with the dark hair, deftly folded her napkin before glancing up at her friend.
Elizabeth concentrated on folding while the two girls Mrs. Ruby had asked to train her discussed their upcoming weddings.
“Yes. Apple, pumpkin, cherry—” Penny counted them off on her fingers.
“Where do you expect to find cherries this time of year?” Dora asked.
“Chef Pourrin can find all sorts of food.” Penny waved her hand in the general direction of the kitchen.
“I think we should let Mrs. Ruby decide. After all, she’s being kind enough to let us use the dining room for our wedding luncheon.” Dora glanced up at Elizabeth and gave her a tiny, conspiratorial smile.
Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from smiling too. Dora seemed to have a way with taming Penny’s wilder ideas. Elizabeth marveled at how close the two of them seemed to be, especially considering the hotel had only been open a few months. She held up her own napkin folded into the shape of a flower.
“You’re good at that,” Penny said. “You’ll make a finer Gilbert Girl than I ever was.”
Given how much she’d struggled at the lunch counter the day before, Elizabeth wasn’t so certain. But folding napkins was a thousand times easier than making conversation with reticent customers. Perhaps if she did at least some things well enough, Mrs. Ruby might overlook her faults when it came to serving guests.
“Aren’t you still working? I mean, since you aren’t married yet?” Elizabeth asked, wishing she could take back the question as soon as it was out of her mouth. As curious as she was, it was far too intrusive to ask someone she’d only just met.
Penny and Dora glanced at each other and smiled, and Elizabeth had the distinct impression she’d missed out on something very entertaining.
“Didn’t Mrs. McFarland or Mrs. Ruby go over the rules with you yet?” Dora asked gently.
Elizabeth shook her head. She hadn’t even seen Mrs. McFarland since yesterday, and she’d only spoken with Mrs. Ruby in passing.
“Gilbert Girls are not allowed to be courted while under contract with the company,” Penny said in a nasal voice. She grinned at her friend. “Dora and I weren’t so good at following the rules.”
Dora’s cheeks reddened. “We aren’t the first.”
“I doubt we’ll be the last. It’s too difficult with all these handsome men coming in and out of this hotel. You’ll see, Elizabeth. You’ll have all good intentions to remain true to your word, and then out of nowhere, some tall, dark-haired cowboy comes riding up and sweeps you off your feet.” Penny sighed.
“Sheriff Young isn’t dark-haired or a cowboy,” Dora said.
“Silly, I didn’t mean him. I was imagining the perfect man for Elizabeth.” Penny grinned at Elizabeth, completely unaware that she’d just about described the man at the lunch counter yesterday.
Elizabeth dug for words, needing desperately to divert her thoughts from the man with the eyes she was certain she’d never forget, despite his abrupt manner. “What do you mean, you aren’t the first? Hasn’t this hotel only been open for a few months?”
“Our dear friend Caroline married Mr. Drexel—in jail, no less!—in October. They run the general store now. But before them, Emma married Mr. Hartley,” Penny said as she folded her napkin.
“Mr. Hartley?” Elizabeth could barely get her own maiden name out. It was the first she’d heard of her brother since Adelaide had told her he was no longer at the hotel. Monroe was married, and not to Colette. Elizabeth’s mind spun. What had happened to Colette?
“He built the hotel,” Dora said. “He went all the way to Kentucky to win Emma back after she thought he didn’t care for her.”
“It was so very romantic.” Penny tossed her half-folded napkin aside.
“Did they remain there?” Elizabeth tried to keep her fingers busy and her eyes on her hands so as not to give anything away. She should have written Monroe. She always meant to, when she and Colin had settled in to their new lives in California, but it never seemed the right time. Especially when her married life turned out not to be the dream she’d imagined when they’d left.
“Oh, no,” Dora said. “They returned here, separately—”
“That’s a story,” Penny interrupted.
“After they married and rebuilt the hotel, Monroe took work in California,” Dora finished.
“But they’re due back here any day!” Penny grinned. “Just in time to see us get married.”
“They’re coming back?” Elizabeth repeated. She was still digesting the fact that he’d arrived in California only a few months before she’d left. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to chase Monroe down to the ends of the earth. According to Dora and Penny, it wouldn’t be that much longer until he’d have the opportunity to tell her how horrible and selfish she was and send her packing off to who even knew where. He’d likely tell her she deserved what she’d gotten in California after being so ungrateful to him.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. But Elizabeth almost didn’t dare hope.
“Yes. They should arrive any day now,” Dora said. She surveyed the napkins they’d folded. “Perhaps we should move on to etiquette.”
As Dora spoke of properly greeting guests and the art of figuring out whether a customer wanted conversation or preferred to be left alone, Elizabeth’s mind drifted back to that cowboy yesterday. She knew now, with what Dora said, that she shouldn’t have pressed him to talk with her. Attempting to converse with him was like washing out an impossible stain. She should’ve left well enough alone once it was clear he was in no mood to speak. She wondered what his manner was like when he didn’t have something so heavy sitting on his mind. He likely wasn’t much different, but maybe he was less sharp and prone to jumping to conclusions.
Elizabeth sighed. She’d be wise to stay away from this man. He was a cowboy, and they were all the same, even when they entered a new line of work. If she ever married again, it would be to a staid man with a dull sort of a job. A bookkeeper, perhaps, or a salesman.
“Elizabeth?” Dora said gently.
“Yes?” Elizabeth blinked away her wandering thoughts. Dora and Penny were standing, and Elizabeth supposed her waitress training was over for now.
“Did you hear me? We were hoping you might like to help us decorate the hotel for Christmas.”
“That would be wonderful! I adore decorating.” Elizabeth couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Where should we start? I have some time before Mrs. Ruby expects me to work.”
Penny laughed. “We were thinking this evening, but why not begin now?”
“Do we have ribbon? Bows on the pine boughs would be lovely, don’t you think? We’ll need to gather those, of course. Are there any red berries that grow here? Should we ask about getting a tree? I haven’t had a tree since I was child.” Ideas flowed faster than Elizabeth could put them into words.
As she looped arms with Penny and Dora, she realized she felt different than she had in a long time.
She was happy.
Chapter Six
Outside was the last place Landon wanted to be, but his horse wouldn’t check on himself. He needn’t have bothered, however. The hotel’s stable hands had already given Ulysses breakfast and had turned him out in the corral.
Now he stood, halfway between the stables and the hotel with a very light snow drifting down, wondering if it would be suc
h a terrible thing if he stayed here one more night. It would be less expensive if he moved on to Cañon City, where he could get a room for a fraction of the cost of this hotel, and cost was important to a man who saved nearly every dime he earned. But he’d also need to meet up with Redmond and the others once he was there. He needed to be certain he wanted to go through with this job when he did that.
And as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t. Not yet.
He let out a frustrated sigh. Landon had never been one to be indecisive, until now. Aimee had made it clear that no one thought he was any sort of upstanding gentleman, so why did taking his future into his own hands this way bother him so much? What Redmond had planned wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was simply sharing the wealth, and Landon desperately needed some of that wealth if he wanted his own ranch before he was eighty. He’d certainly worked hard enough for it over the years.
He fisted and unfisted his hands, trying to keep them from freezing. He should get back to the hotel and take advantage of the warmth that waited inside. Just as he took a step forward, movement off to the left, at a line of trees that flanked Silver Creek, caught Landon’s eye. He squinted through the slowly drifting flurries. The figure was a woman, and she was struggling with . . . something.
He couldn’t tell if it was a person or an animal, but she clearly needed help. Trudging through the snow on a rescue mission was not at all what he had in mind, particularly when those fireplaces inside beckoned him, but he wasn’t one to leave a woman in distress on her own.
Landon moved faster toward the trees. Even as he grew closer, he couldn’t tell what awaited him. He’d left his guns inside, and he hoped that whatever it was, it could be easily dispelled without needing a weapon.
He drew up a few feet away in disbelief. This woman wasn’t in any danger, unless the tree branches came to life and began attacking. She seemed to be doing a good enough number on the boughs already—they wouldn’t have stood a chance.
