Under the Midnight Sun

by Tracie Peterson

  Collette Langelier walked over to her with a tray in her hand. “I’ve finished the canapés. You would like for me to put the hors d’oeuvres on the platters now, Mrs. Johnson?” The young lady’s English was much improved, but the French accent was still strong. The summer she’d come with her brother to the Curry was quite memorable. Was that really three years ago now? Margaret shook her head. Time flew by.

  “Yes, that would be excellent. Thank you for offering. Please tell Chef Daniel I’d like to speak with him too.”

  “Oui, Chef.” The beautiful French girl glided away. Why she wanted to stay and work under Margaret’s drill-sergeant ways was definitely a puzzle. But she wouldn’t complain. Collette was a huge help.

  Chef Daniel appeared at her side. “I hear ya be needin’ me, lass?” His face was all smiles as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  Margaret shook her head at him and tried to contain her grin. She never knew whether she should just laugh in his face at his attention-grabbing antics or get angry with him. “I need you to do your job, Daniel Ferguson.”

  “Aye. And what is it that ya be needin’ done now?” He gave her a wink.

  She looked toward the ceiling. That man. What was she supposed to do with him? At least he no longer tried to take over her kitchen. After his near-death experience the year influenza had come to the Curry, he’d been changed . . . well, at least a bit softened. Toward her, anyway. Especially of late. No matter how gruff she got with him, he always seemed to take it in stride. Infuriating man. Sometimes she missed the days when he would argue with her and their hollering could be heard all the way in the lobby. But he still tried to get under her skin—especially when it came to how she organized her kitchen. “What I need is for you to prepare those chops for tomorrow.”

  “Bone in or bone out?”

  “Bone in. It will make a beautiful presentation.”

  “As you wish, Chef.” Ferguson bowed his large frame to her, which made the young girls washing dishes giggle.

  After he walked away, Susan—one of the youngest—looked at her and smiled. “You know he’s sweet on you, don’t you, Mrs. Johnson?”

  “Oh, hush. I’ll have none of that sappy talk in my kitchen.”

  The girls just giggled some more.

  “Heavens, how am I supposed to get anything done around here?”

  Collette walked over with the tray filled and began helping with the shortcakes. “With lots of help from me.” She grinned and then leaned in and lowered her voice. “But the girls are correct, yes? Chef Daniel is . . . what is the word . . . smitten with you.”

  “Oh, stop. I don’t need you starting in on me too.”

  “Starting in on what?” Cassidy appeared at the workstation.

  “Chef Daniel is smitten with Mrs. Johnson. No?” Collette’s whisper was a bit too loud for Margaret’s taste.

  Cassidy simply laughed and gave Margaret a kiss on the cheek. “Along with Bertram Wilcox.” She snatched up a strawberry from the counter. “You would think Mrs. Johnson was sixteen and the belle of the ball.” She shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. They’re like two lovesick teenagers. I fully expect them to appear beneath her bedroom window with singing and poetic readings.”

  “Oh, oui,” Collette agreed. “Like Romeo and Juliet.” She put one hand to her chest and stretched out the other. “‘What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’”

  “No.” Cassidy shook her head. “It is the east, and Margaret Johnson is the sun.”

  The other kitchen girls worked hard to suppress their giggles, which only made them laugh all the harder. Cassidy winked at her mentor.

  Margaret felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “You two need to stop. There will be no more talk of who is smitten with whom.” Her tone had gotten snippy. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”

  Cassidy grinned and didn’t seem to mind Margaret’s terse attitude. “I checked on the mousse, and now I’m going to get the boys.” Snickering, she walked backward toward the dining room. “I’ll see you later at dinner, and we can discuss how you don’t have two men sweet on you . . . Juliet.” Turning, she waved over her shoulder and shook her head.

  “Look at what you started.” Margaret leveled her gaze at Collette.

  “Moi?” The French girl looked from side to side. “It wasn’t me, as I recall.” She shrugged. “You know . . . this English language is so confusing.” Collette lifted a spatula. “Is it who is smitten with who, or whom is smitten with whom, or who is smitten with whom?” She shook her head and went back to spreading the whipped cream over the shortcakes. “I’ll never understand it.”

  Margaret felt the tension in her shoulders ease. Collette had taken the spotlight off of her. A complete change of subject would be a relief. What was it about men’s attention that made her feel out of control? And she was not a woman who was used to things being out of her control. Never mind. In all her forty-six years, she had never felt quite so helpless. She needed to focus on something else.

  As she finished her tray of shortcakes, she watched Collette. At ease and comfortable in the kitchen, the sweet girl had changed so much since she first came. That summer could have spelled so much trouble had Collette not given her life to the Lord. She was still vivacious and larger than life many times, but she was no longer self-focused and oblivious to those around her. In fact, she’d become one of the most caring people Margaret knew. Her brother, Jean-Michel, had so many wounds from the war that he hadn’t known what to do to help his sister. The memories flooded over her. Interesting how God had done a lot in her own life that year. She shook her head.

  It had been a while since the other Langeliers had visited. “How is your brother doing, Collette?”

  “He is very happy working with Allan’s business. Their . . . what is the word? Partnership? In business has done well.”

  “Katherine is well?”

  “Oh my, yes. She writes to me the most beautiful letters. I love having a sister.”

  Margaret’s heart twinged. Family was a wonderful thing. She stole a glance across the room at Daniel. Would it be so bad to open her heart again?

  Ridiculous thoughts. Yes. Yes, it would. She’d loved deeply, and she’d lost. It had been hard enough letting Cassidy in . . . and oh, how she loved that sweet girl and her family. But when Cassidy came down with the influenza during her pregnancy, it had just about broken Margaret. Could she allow her heart to be that vulnerable again with a man?

  Margaret shook her head. Daniel was a good man. And they got along just fine the way they were.

  Collette wiped her hands on a towel and lifted another tray. “Voilà! This tray is fini!”

  “Thank you, Collette. They look magnifique.”

  The young woman chuckled. “You make my heart happy when you use French. I’m curious, have you met the new girl?” She started working on the next tray of desserts.

  Margaret looked at Collette. Then around the kitchen. If there was a new girl in here, surely she would have been the one to hire her. “What new girl? Is she French too?”

  “Non. Forgive me, I changed directions too quick. The one who came from another national park. She is to work with Thomas and Allan to guide the people on their outings.”

  “They hired a girl?”

  “Oui! And she’s enchanting. I like her a lot.” Collette made a peak in the cream for the top of each cake on the next tray. “It will be nice getting to know her. I believe she is around my age in years.”

  Susan came up to Margaret, twisting her hands. “Mrs. Johnson?”

  “Oh, goodness. What happened this time?” The poor young girl had broken at least five dishes since this morning.

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I haven’t broken anything. But there’s a visitor at the dining room door for you.”

  “Oh, bother.” Margaret wiped her hands on her apron. “Who would be visiting in the rush of dinner?”

  The
young girl smiled. “It’s the railroad man. Mr. Bertram Wilcox.”

  All the other young helpers in the kitchen started up their giggling again.

  “I will have none of that, now!” Margaret eyed the young girls. Turning to Collette, she huffed. “Would you mind asking Mr. Wilcox if he will kindly leave me alone during the busiest time of my day? If I have time to speak with him later, I’ll come out.” Picking up the towel again, she slung it over her shoulder and grunted.

  “Of course, Chef.” Collette curtsied and went to the door.

  Margaret couldn’t hear the man’s response, but she heard the tone. It would seem she made the man unhappy.

  Collette appeared in front of her again. She leaned across the table a bit. “He brought you flowers.”

  “I have no need for flowers in my kitchen.” What was wrong with these men? Didn’t they understand she had a job to do?

  “Maybe he wants to let you know that he cares. Bring some beauty to you.” Collette shrugged. “He probably wanted you to take them to your room and think of him.”

  “Oh, bother. You’re hopeless, Collette.”

  “I am French, you know . . . yes?” Her young assistant said some flowery French phrases that Margaret didn’t understand. “Isn’t it wonderfully romantic that you have two men vying for your hand?”

  Margaret glanced around, glad to see Daniel was nowhere in sight. “The back of my hand is what they’ll get if they don’t knock it off.”

  The girls started giggling again.

  Margaret shook her head and sighed. So much for the change of subject. Lord, help me.

  Tayler found herself hungrier than she was tired. And that was saying a lot. She felt like she could sleep for days.

  When she’d first entered her room, she found it was a generous size, quite a bit larger than the one she’d had at Yellowstone. And she’d been very tempted to try out the comfort of the bed but made herself unpack instead. The dresser and wardrobe were roomy, and there was even a desk and chair situated beneath the window. It would be a great place to journal, sketch, and write letters.

  The thought of letters made her miss her family. Alaska was indeed a long way from home. Shaking her head, she forced herself to think of the adventure ahead.

  After getting settled in her room, she cleaned up as much as she could in the few minutes she had and determined that she wanted a decent meal and then needed to meet the other staff. No matter how unprepared she felt. At least she’d been given the chance to stay. The misunderstanding with Mr. Bradley had made her feel quite nervous about the whole thing. Something she wasn’t used to. She’d never been doubted for being a woman. But then, her father had probably had quite a bit of influence when she first started out. Now she was completely on her own. A very long way from Colorado and Yellowstone.

  She ventured down the stairs and saw the same group of girls who were on the platform sitting around the lobby, giggling and whispering to each other. For some reason, Tayler’s spirit felt like something wasn’t right. Those girls could cause problems. She’d have to keep an eye out in the coming days. Maybe she was just oversensitive right now. She didn’t know anyone and she was too tired.

  Tayler headed down the other stairway that led into the spacious basement of the hotel, which housed the laundry, section gang kitchen, overflow bunkroom for the railroad, storage, provisions rooms, and the large dining area for the staff. Her tour earlier had been a bit overwhelming. The building was well thought out, however, and kept in pristine condition, so she was pretty confident she wouldn’t get lost.

  As she stepped into the staff dining area, the comfortable chatter and tantalizing smells greeted her. She stood on the edge of the room for a while and just watched. It appeared as if the staff here was like one giant family. That was encouraging. With great anticipation, she hoped they’d welcome her into that family.

  Allan Brennan—her new boss—walked over to her. “Tayler, it’s so good to see you. I was hoping you’d make it for dinner. Let me introduce you to my wife. She just ran to get the boys’ bibs . . . wait, here she comes.”

  A lovely, dark-haired woman with a brilliant smile walked toward them with twin boys in tow. She was the most beautiful woman Tayler had ever seen. Tall and thin with dark eyes that sparkled in merriment. She seemed so . . . exotic.

  And it made Tayler feel frumpy and . . . short.

  “Hi, Tayler, I’m Cassidy—Allan’s wife.”

  “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Crouching down in front of the boys, Tayler smiled. “And who are these handsome young men?” She loved children.

  “These are our sons.” Allan patted the boys’ heads.

  “Jonathon and David”—Cassidy leaned down—“this is Tayler. Can you say Tay-ler?”

  “Tay!” the boys chimed.

  It made Tayler laugh. “I’ll take that. It’s nice to meet you both.” She tickled each of the boys’ bellies. Little childish giggles followed. “Who is David and who is Jonathon?”

  Cassidy laughed. “Most of the staff can’t tell them apart. Especially since we dress them alike. But if you look closely, you’ll notice that David’s hair is just a shade darker than Jonathon’s.”

  Tayler looked back and forth. She raised her eyebrows. “No wonder people can’t tell them apart.” After looking at the boys for several seconds, she pointed to one. “Are you David?”

  The little boy nodded.

  “And that means you are Jonathon.” She tapped the other boy’s nose.

  He nodded.

  “Jonathon.” She winked at him. “And David.” She winked at the other adorable brother.

  “TayTay!” they chanted and clapped their hands.

  “I think you have new friends.” Cassidy grinned. “Why don’t you come sit next to me so we can visit? I can’t promise it won’t be an adventure with the twins, but hopefully you can leave the table unscathed.”

  Allan snorted. “Or covered in mashed potatoes. You pick.”

  “They’re not that bad.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “But that’s why I wear my apron during dinner.”

  “They should make full-body aprons for parents of small children.” Allan chuckled.

  The banter made Tayler feel more at ease. “Thank you, I’d love to sit with you, and I don’t mind getting covered in mashed potatoes.” She followed the little family to the long table. Allan pulled out a chair for her, and she took a seat next to Cassidy. Little David sat next to her and then Allan took a seat on the other side of the table with Jonathon.

  Cassidy leaned toward her. “There’s less mess when we split them up.”

  Tayler nodded. “Ah, I see.” It made sense. As she watched the people settle she studied the Brennans. Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult after all—maybe only Thomas and Mr. Bradley had doubts about her being a woman and doing her job. There were lots of women who worked at the Curry Hotel. In fact, she’d heard the head chef was a woman and had another chef—a man—as her assistant.

  It took a little time for everyone to take their places, but then Mr. Bradley walked in and the room fell silent.

  “Good evening, everyone.” He smiled. “Before we eat, I’d like you all to meet our newest staff member. She comes to us highly recommended from another of our beautiful national parks—Yellowstone.”

  Several oohs and aahs were heard around the table.

  “Please welcome Miss Tayler Hale, an expert in botany, a naturalist, and an interpreter.”

  Hearty applause surrounded her. Mr. Bradley grinned from ear to ear. Maybe he was on board after all. The applause made her feel appreciated—something she desperately needed after the long journey here.

  “She joins the team for our outdoor activities led by Allan and Thomas. Please stand, Miss Hale, so everyone can see you.”

  Tayler scooted her chair back and stood. Not that it helped a whole lot. She always told her father she was height impaired. But at least most of the people could see her. As she gazed around the table, she tried to co
nnect with each person. When her eyes landed on Thomas, her stomach fluttered. He didn’t seem pleased to have her aboard, and she wasn’t sure if she should try to fix that or not. Maybe it was best that he didn’t seem to care for her, because Thomas was a good-looking man, and she didn’t need any interest in men right now.

  “Let’s say grace.” Mr. Bradley bowed his head and led the table in prayer.

  As Tayler settled back into her chair, the chatter picked up around the table. Once again catching Thomas’s eye, she gave him a smile. But he just stared back.

  Great. He really didn’t like her. It made her wipe the smile from her face.

  Cassidy nudged her. “What’s that frown for?”

  Tayler shook her head. “I’m sorry. Is Thomas always so . . . brooding?”

  Cassidy laughed. “Thomas? You mean the Thomas who works with Allan?”

  She nodded.

  Her new friend looked at the object of their conversation and then looked back. “No. That’s not like Thomas at all. I wonder if something is bothering him.” She looked a bit worried.

  “I take it you are close?”

  “Oh yes. Thomas is like a little brother to me. We’ve known each other ever since we came to the Curry.”

  Maybe it was best to keep her mouth shut about her thoughts of Thomas around Cassidy. She didn’t want anyone to think she was difficult.

  But Cassidy pressed. She lowered her voice. “Has Thomas done something to upset you?”

  She tightened her lips. She didn’t want to start off at a new place with issues.

  “Come on, Tayler. I can see something is bothering you. We don’t like to keep things bottled up here—we all have to work together.”

  With a sigh, she ventured forth. “I’m guessing you haven’t talked to your husband about our meeting this afternoon. It’s nothing big. I just get the feeling that Thomas thinks I can’t do my job.”

  Mrs. Brennan looked puzzled. “That’s not like him at all. I wonder what brought that on. I’ll talk to Allan about it.” Cassidy patted her hand. “Don’t worry about Thomas. He’s the sweetest and kindest soul around here.”