A Ready-Made Texas Family

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A Ready-Made Texas Family Page 9

by Angel Moore


  Michael bowed out his chest and pushed his shoulders back. “We don’t need him here, Charlotte. Pa wanted me to run the hotel after he died. He told me so.”

  Charlotte leveled a look on the child that only a maternal figure could master. “And when he told you this was he speaking of sometime in the future when he was too old to do the work? Perhaps when you grow up and have a family of your own?”

  Michael kicked at the rug beneath his feet. “It don’t matter. He’s dead, and I’m the one he wanted to run the hotel.” He poked his finger in Nathan’s direction. “Not him.”

  “Michael, you will respect your elders. Apologize.”

  “I’m sorry for being rude.” The boy gave Nathan a stern look. “But I’m not sorry for saying the hotel is ours. Pa told me all the time that it’s my job.”

  Nathan wanted to applaud the child’s bravery in a difficult situation, but Mr. Murray had made his way back to the registration desk. The man’s nervous cough drew Charlotte’s attention.

  “Miss Charlotte, I’d like to have a word with you.” Mr. Murray looked around Nathan at the children. Then he gave his full attention to Charlotte. “It’s a personal matter, if I could speak to you privately.”

  Charlotte’s face stiffened. A shadow crossed her eyes. Mr. Murray was too far away to notice, Nathan was sure. But why was Nathan noticing?

  “I was coming to tell you that you had a caller, Charlotte.” He stepped back from the door. “I’ll be in the lobby.”

  He walked to the front of the room and adjusted the embroidered pillows on the settee. It wasn’t necessary, but he didn’t think he could stand within earshot of Mr. Murray and not be drawn to listen. It would be unfair to the man who’d asked for privacy.

  Before Nathan could walk back across the lobby to the desk, Mr. Murray was on his way through the front door. The man’s gaze never left his shoes. Nathan wondered how he didn’t bump into the furniture on the way out.

  Charlotte stood at the door watching Mr. Murray leave.

  “Are you okay?” Nathan didn’t want to pry, but her focus had to be on the business. She was vulnerable. If she gave her heart to one of these callers, and later found that the man had an ulterior motive, it would devastate her. A broken heart caused by a disingenuous romance would be more than she needed on top of the grief and responsibility brought on by the death of her parents.

  “I am.” She huffed out an unladylike sigh. “Mr. Murray is a nice man, but why did he approach me now? He could have spoken to Pa or Momma at any time in the past. Honestly, I’ve never considered him in any way as someone for my husband. I appreciate that he is a good and kind man, but that doesn’t make him the right person for me.”

  “Charlotte, these men are coming because you own this hotel. You should prepare yourself for the attention that a woman of means receives from prospective suitors.”

  “The hotel isn’t secure. Not at the moment. They’d just be asking for a load of debt and work.”

  Nathan took a step closer to her as Mrs. Atkins entered the lobby. He lowered his voice. “No one knows of the debt, save the banker. He won’t tell because it would put his investment at risk for people to think the business could fail.”

  Acknowledgment of the truth filled her eyes.

  Mrs. Atkins approached them. “Miss Charlotte, I need to go to the mercantile. I’m out of some of the spices I need to finish the supper for tonight. Would you be able to mind the stove for me? I had to send Bertha home early to cook for her pa.”

  The door to the residence opened wider, and Michael and Sarah came out. “I’m hungry.” The words were spontaneous but rang out in unison.

  Nathan assured Mrs. Atkins that she could run her errand.

  “But—” Charlotte started to protest.

  “Take the children with you to the kitchen. I’d like you to consider the possibility of you and your family eating from the restaurant for the foreseeable future. You don’t really have time to prepare meals on top of all the work you’ll be doing for the next many weeks.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Our mother always cooked. She said we were a family and family should sit around the family table every evening and share the news of the day. It’s a special time for us.”

  Sarah chimed in with her opinion. “I want to eat in the restaurant. Mrs. Atkins is a good cook. I like her biscuits.”

  “Me, too.” Michael headed for the restaurant.

  “Go ahead.” Nathan put a hand on her arm. “It’s one less thing for you to worry over.”

  Her gaze settled on his hand. “You may be right. We’ll eat there tonight, but I’ll have to decide if it’s something I want to do on a regular basis.”

  The warmth of her arm through the sleeve of her dress distracted him. He dropped his hand. It was imperative that he keep his distance. “You can bring the food back to your table if you choose. Then you could have a good meal and still share in your family traditions.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Sarah tugged on Charlotte’s skirt. “Let’s go see what’s cooking. I’m real hungry.”

  Nathan rubbed his hands together as they left the lobby. He needed to keep his distance in more ways than one. He needed to guard against an emotional attachment to Charlotte and the children, but he also needed to keep space between them in a physical sense. If his light touch on her arm had the power to capture all of his attention that would not be good for either of them.

  * * *

  On Wednesday afternoon Charlotte helped Mr. Thornhill make a reservation for his next stay in Gran Colina. “Thank you for your loyalty to our establishment, Mr. Thornhill. It’s guests like you who keep us in business.”

  “You are most welcome. I do wish you could think of some way for me to help you and the children.”

  “Just keep coming to visit.” She smiled and finished her notes in the registration book. “Does your schedule still have you leaving us tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid so. There are things I must attend to at home.” He nodded at Nathan when he joined them at the desk. “I’ve been added to the board of directors for a group of farmers. It works like the Grange. We’re planning a meeting in October, and I’ve received a telegram today that there is a problem with the location we’ve chosen. The town is a good area for our members, but there was a fire in the hotel there a few days ago. They won’t be up and running again before our meeting.”

  Nathan turned one ear closer to the conversation. “So you have a group that needs a meeting place and a hotel?”

  “Yes. That’s right.” Mr. Thornhill put a hand on the desk. “I wish I’d known earlier. I’d have tried to book them here.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You are the person who makes that decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is our hotel large enough to accommodate your members?” Was God sending Mr. Thornhill as an answer to one of her many prayers?

  “Wait, Charlotte. There is a lot more to hosting a group than having enough rooms.”

  She didn’t appreciate Nathan’s response. “I’m aware of that. The group of mayors have been coming for years.”

  Mr. Thornhill smiled. “I’d love to have you host the gathering. It would bring a good bit of business to the hotel and restaurant. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “We’ll need the dates and the number of guests before we can offer to accept the reservations.” Nathan pulled the registration book toward him. “We need to make certain that other, prior reservations won’t conflict.”

  The three of them worked out the dates, and Nathan turned to Mr. Thornhill. “Please give Miss Green and I the afternoon to ponder this. There are a lot of things we’ll need to consider.”

  Charlotte pushed forward. “We can do it. I know we can.” They needed events like this. Nathan had said as much himself.

 
He tapped on the registration book. “Let’s not bore Mr. Thornhill with our discussions. I think we have enough information from him.”

  “I want to stop in at the train station and buy my ticket this afternoon. I’ll come by the desk after supper and see what’s been decided.” Mr. Thornhill left with a smile on his face.

  If Charlotte had her way, he’d be whistling a happy tune when he returned for their answer.

  “Why did you send him away? We could have confirmed everything right then and there.”

  “There’s more to hosting a meeting than having open rooms on the right days.”

  “I know that.” His presumption of her ignorance perturbed her. “The mayors just left very pleased with their days here.”

  Nathan leaned his hip against the registration desk and folded his arms. “Who arranged that meeting?”

  “My father.” She stiffened to match his posture.

  “And who handled all the food arrangements?”

  “Momma did.” She didn’t like the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. “With Mrs. Atkins.”

  “How many more farmers are in this new group as opposed to the number of mayors?” In all this time he hadn’t budged from his leaning position.

  “You sure do seem confident leaning there, like you know all the answers to the questions before you ask them. Confident to the point of arrogance. I might be wrong, but you don’t need to show me in such a condescending manner.” She frowned at him.

  “That pretty little pout might have worked on your father, but it won’t work on me.”

  “What?” Pretty? The way his eyes grew wide as he stepped away from the desk let her know he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

  He cleared his throat and straightened the notes he’d made into an orderly stack. “I mean you can’t pout and expect me to give in to your way of thinking.”

  “I wasn’t pouting.”

  “Really? So what do you call it when you push out your lower lip when you know you’re about to be found out? You looked just like Sarah when you did it.” He mimicked her frown, and it made them both laugh.

  “Okay. I see it now.”

  He smiled the most genuine smile she’d seen since he’d returned to Gran Colina. “Good. Does that mean you’ll listen to what I have to say about Mr. Thornhill and his group?”

  “I will.” She almost felt coy when she answered. “As long as you don’t stay upset with me.”

  Nathan was facing the desk again, but he cut his eyes toward her and stilled his work. “Not upset. Never upset.” He rubbed his hand across the shadow of beard on his chin. “Not if you let me join you for supper and we talk about what having a group this size would require.”

  “Since I’m not cooking, I think I could arrange for dinner on such short notice. Let’s eat in the residence though. The restaurant is noisy. And we can leave the door open to hear in case anyone comes to the desk for assistance.”

  An hour later the children had eaten their fill and gone to play in the parlor. Charlotte poured Nathan another cup of coffee and sat down opposite him.

  “Thank you for clearing away the dishes while I settled the kids.”

  He spread his notes out on the clean surface. “I thought this would be the best place for us to work.”

  She stirred cream into her coffee as he started to point out what would be needed to host the group of farmers.

  “There’s the matter of extra help since the hotel would be completely booked with that many farmers. And Mrs. Atkins would need another assistant for those days. Is Bertha still in school?”

  “No. She finished her studies in the spring. She works with Mrs. Atkins here and helps out at their home.”

  “Okay, then we’ll only need one additional assistant. The shopping for the week will be heavier than usual. Do you think you will have mastered that in the weeks before the meeting?”

  Charlotte sipped her coffee. “Before this week, I’d have said so with no hesitation. If you hadn’t been here last week, we’d have run out of food.” She twisted her cup in the saucer. “You’ll have to teach me.”

  Nathan nodded. “That’s settled then. There’s also the rooms. With all of them rented, we’d need more help with the laundry and cleaning the rooms.”

  “There are some girls in town who are friends with the maids. I’m sure one or two of them would appreciate a small job.”

  “So, the food and cleaning would be handled. I can take care of the lobby and make the bank deposits. You can oversee the cleaning staff and kitchen. Would you allow someone to help you with the baking? Just for the week.”

  “You’re talking fast, but I’m listening just as fast.” She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and tried to read his notes though they were upside down. “I will handle the banking.”

  Nathan rested against the back of his chair. “I mentioned this the other day to no avail. Charlotte, you can’t handle all the business alone. Thomas Freeman has been here every day to check on our progress. He’s asked why you haven’t had me added to the accounts for the hotel.”

  “The accounts for the hotel are mine. Pa handled all the money. I think he’d want me to do the same.”

  “What do you know about the bills? The account at the mercantile, the butcher’s bill and the various things that must be purchased to keep the hotel going. Have you any idea how much money is taken in and how much must be set aside for slow seasons? There are expenses that are paid monthly and others that need to be paid on delivery.”

  “I can learn that.”

  “It’s more complicated than shopping for the restaurant.” His face softened as he spoke. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but running an establishment like Green’s Grand Hotel could take months—or even a year—to learn.”

  “I don’t have a year to learn it, Nathan.” She looked again at the notes he’d made. “According to Mr. Thornhill, this meeting will commence on the first Monday in October. That’s just over seven weeks. When do the new furnishings arrive?”

  “Five to seven weeks.”

  She smiled in triumph. “Then we’ll have everything ready before they come. This meeting will be our big debut of our new and improved hotel.”

  “Charlotte, that doesn’t allow a moment for error. What if something is delayed? The furnishings could be caught up by the train schedule. We could be forced to work at a slower pace on the individual rooms. Any number of things could go wrong. You or I could be ill.”

  “I’m never sick.” She picked up her coffee. “And God knows how desperate I am to make this work. Thomas Freeman will be powerless to take the hotel from me.”

  “I would love for it to be that easy.”

  “It can be. You can make it happen.” She knew he could. Somewhere inside, a faith in his abilities had taken root. “The very fact that you are here is proof of it. Thomas Freeman wouldn’t have brought you if he thought you weren’t able to succeed.”

  “It’s a lot of work, Charlotte. I’ll do everything I can, but it’s taken me five years to learn what I know. You’re going to have to trust me on some things.”

  The bell on the desk rang, and she knew it would be Mr. Thornhill. She sprang to her feet. “I’m going to tell him we can do it.”

  Nathan didn’t look convinced. “I’d be more comfortable if we had more time.”

  “We don’t. So we’ll have to do it. We’ll go to the bank tomorrow. It’s just the sort of news I need to keep Mr. Freeman from coming around to trouble me.”

  “I would imagine he’ll come no matter what you tell him.” Nathan stood as the bell rang again. “Let’s go tell your friend that we’ll do our best.”

  Mr. Thornhill was pleased with their acceptance. “Are you sure it’s not too much to arrange. I know it’s more people than the mayors’ group.”

  Nathan asked, “You’ve given
us adequate time to prepare. We’ll be ready.”

  “That’s good to know.” He smiled. “It’ll be a nice boost to your business here. And don’t worry about the farmers. They’re a good sort and don’t need as much tending as a bunch of grumpy mayors.” He laughed at his own joke.

  “We’ll do our best. I’m so grateful to you for your trust in our establishment.” Charlotte blinked away tears at the thought of how proud her father would be that she was able to make this happen so soon after taking the reins of the hotel.

  “I’ve no doubt in you. You’re from good stock, Charlotte Green. If anyone can do it, you can.”

  As soon as he left to telegram the other board members of his decision, a lump of worry filled her throat. What if Nathan’s concerns were true? What if something went wrong? What if she failed?

  Nathan hit the bell on the desk and snatched her out of her thoughts.

  “Don’t you do it.”

  “Do what?” She crinkled her forehead in an effort to concentrate on his words.

  “Don’t back up now that the deed is done. The plan is in motion, so we need to prepare.”

  She nodded and smoothed her skirt with her palms. “You’re right.” She blew out a slow breath.

  “I think the best thing we can do is start to take our lunches together. It’s the best time for us to work without interruption. Libbie will have the children, and you’ll still have your suppers with them as a family.”

  She’d asked him for a lot this afternoon, and he’d risen to the occasion. To refuse him on this request would be rude payment for his effort.

  Somewhere inside, a warning voice told her that spending time with Nathan Taylor every day could be the biggest change in her life. The one with the most impact on Charlotte Green. More than anything Nathan the hotelier could ever do or say to change Charlotte the hotel owner.

  Chapter Seven

  Nathan and Charlotte climbed the steps to the porch of the hotel on Friday morning. He held the door open for her to precede him into the lobby. “That went well, I think.”

 

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