Beatrice reached across the table and touched her arm. “You look tired, Miss Bernard. Please eat your fill, and then I hope you’ll consider letting us share your burden.”
Collette blinked as tears filled her eyes. It was so good to hear words of compassion. She nodded, knowing she wasn’t expected to answer, and they all fell to eating.
When they finished, Arthur stepped back out to the office after telling Collette he’d be ready when she was. Beatrice left the dishes on the table and invited Collette to sit with her in the parlor, a comfortable room that was tidy if not fancy.
“Now, tell me your story,” Beatrice said, patting the sofa. “I imagine we’ll have a few minutes of quiet before the children come home from school, but once they’re here, we won’t be able to hear ourselves think.”
Collette smiled. “I’ll tell you the story under one condition—we treat this as a comedy of errors and not as a drama. I’m determined to stay positive.”
Beatrice nodded. “Agreed. Now, start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out. I’m in desperate need of a good conversation.”
Collette took a deep breath and began. It was so nice to speak freely, to feel as though she was being heard and understood. Beatrice was an excellent listener, showing the right amount of shock and also the right amount of amusement depending on the situation.
“And that’s how I came to be here,” Collette said at last. “A French-born, English-educated seamstress-turned-ladies’ maid stranded in Creede, Colorado.”
“And a very good storyteller,” Beatrice replied. “My goodness, Collette. You’ve certainly been through a difficult time. I felt stranded myself when I first arrived in Creede—my parents were killed in a wagon accident just outside of town, and I didn’t know what the future would hold for me until I met Arthur. I hadn’t just come from across the ocean, however.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your parents. It seems that everyone’s lives bring them sorrow from time to time.”
“Yes, but I like your attitude of looking for the joy and not the drama. I insist that you take all your meals here until you figure out your next step. It’s the very least I can do, and it would make me so happy.”
Collette blinked. “Are you certain? I don’t want to be an imposition.”
Beatrice held up a hand. “I’m already cooking for a crowd—you just missed seeing them this time because of school. Now let’s decide what to put in your telegram—I agree that it would be good for you to hear from your patroness.”
She handed Collette a piece of paper and a pencil, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, Collette decided on, Lost job in Creede, Colorado. Seeking advice on next step.
“I think that will do it,” Beatrice replied on seeing it. “And no matter where you are, we’ll hunt you down as soon as the reply comes.”
“Thank you, Beatrice,” Collette said, her heart warming. She hadn’t expected to find friends when she walked into the telegraph office—God truly was good.
Chapter Three
Gabriel Brody hesitated outside his mother’s bedroom door. He knew she wanted to see him, but he didn’t want to disturb her if she’d fallen back asleep. The doctor had come and gone that morning, saying there was no change. Gabriel didn’t like this new man, but Dr. Wayment was getting on in years and had felt the need to retire, leaving them without much choice.
“Son? Why are you hovering in the hallway?”
Gabriel chuckled and entered the room. “Sorry, Mother. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep.” He crossed the floor and took the chair by the side of her bed. “How are you feeling today?”
“Oh, not too dreadful. We got a letter from Rose.” Her hand fluttered to her side, and she picked up the sheet and held it out to him. “She seems to be doing well.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Gabriel took the letter, but he’d read it later. It wasn’t the most pressing thing at the moment. “Hope’s out for a buggy ride with that young man you’ve been talking about lately.”
“I’m glad.” Elizabeth smiled. “Tell me about you.”
“Me? Well, let’s see. I’ve been working on fixing the chimney out at the stone cottage. The mortar has crumbled away almost entirely on the north side, so I thought it would be best to tear it down and start from scratch.”
“You’ve always liked working with your hands.”
“Keeps me out of trouble—mostly.” He reached out and smoothed back a lock of her hair. He remembered when it was dark brown, and now it was shot through with strands of gray. It was still beautiful, though—everything about his mother was beautiful, even though she was so very ill.
“I need you to promise me something.” She took his hand and held it between her own. They felt so thin. “Promise me that you’ll be good to your father and help him in any way you can.”
“Don’t I do that already?” Gabriel said, chuckling. He was desperate to lighten the fog of finality and goodbye that had fallen over the room.
“Yes, you do. You’re a good boy, and a good son. But he’s going to need your help so much more in the days and years to come. Promise me that you’ll be there for him.”
“Of course I will, Mother.”
“Good.” She patted his hand, then let it go. “He’s always been such a dreamer, so full of ideas. He sees the possibility in everything and the potential in everyone. He’s taken in people from all walks of life and given them a second chance. Imagine where I’d be without your father.”
Gabriel nodded. His parents’ love story was one of his favorites to hear, certainly better than any fairy tale or novel.
“But he needs an anchor, someone to keep him grounded and help him remember the logistics,” his mother went on. “To remind him that he can’t solve all the problems of the world at once, but that he can solve one or two a little closer to his reach.”
It was true—Adam Brody wanted to save everyone from themselves in one fell swoop, and was sometimes disappointed when that didn’t happen. No one could fault him for his caring or his generous ways, though—he truly was one of the best men Gabriel had ever known.
“All right, let your mother rest,” Elizabeth said.
Gabriel stood and kissed her on the cheek. “I will never be as great as my father, but I will try,” he told her.
“Be as great as you are. That’s all I ask,” she replied.
He left her room as quietly as he was able, closing the door with a whisper of wind. Then he stood in the hallway again, “hovering,” as his mother put it, and wiped away the few tears that had collected. It would do no one any good to see him upset.
Collette had found herself a small task to be done—one of the ladies in town hired her to mend some hems that were coming down along the bottoms of her dresses. She had four gowns to mend, and while the task wasn’t complicated and wouldn’t pay a great deal, she was so glad to have something useful to do. She was sitting in the sunlight in Beatrice’s parlor, snipping the last thread on this particular dress, when Arthur stepped in and handed over a piece of paper with a flourish.
“Your reply,” he said.
She took the paper and thanked him, then put her needle in her pincushion so she wouldn’t lose it. Then she unfolded the paper, her heart pounding a bit. Stay where you are, the telegram read. Help is coming.
Well, that was certainly unexpected. She hadn’t expected help—she’d only expected a word of cheer, perhaps some advice as to whether she should stay in America or work toward going back to England. But if Lady Sybil had some help in mind . . . well, that would explain why she hadn’t replied for a day. She’d needed time to arrange this surprise, whatever it was.
She could certainly stay where she was without too much difficulty. The hotel was paid for, Beatrice welcomed her company, and she enjoyed the Jameson family quite a bit. The noise level did increase when the children were home from school, but that was hardly unusual and not at all a problem. And with three more gowns to mend, she’d have something to do with he
r hands while she wondered just what sort of help was being offered.
It arrived three days later in the form of a young man appearing in the lobby of the hotel.
One of the maids came to fetch Collette, telling her there was an uncommonly good-looking man downstairs for her. Collette put her work to the side, completely baffled. She wasn’t even sure she knew a man who would match that description, let alone one who would be coming to find her here. She glanced in the mirror and smoothed down her hair, then descended the stairs. Yes, the maid was right—he certainly was good-looking, but he was a complete stranger to her, and she had no idea why he would be asking for her.
He came to his feet as she approached him. “Miss Barnard? My name is Gabriel Brody. I was sent here on an errand of sorts to fetch you.”
She blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
He made a sweeping gesture to invite her to sit, and she took one of the wingback chairs near the sofa where he had been sitting. He resumed his spot as well. “My parents run the Brody Hotel in Topeka. Twenty-five years ago or thereabouts, a young lady named Sybil James stayed in the hotel with her employer, who then passed away. Miss James stayed at the hotel for a short time until she could get sorted out. I believe you know Miss James—er, now Lady Douglas.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Collette said. “She told me the story herself.”
“When she heard about your situation, she sent a wire to my parents, asking if they could send someone to bring you back to the hotel, where she can be assured of your wellbeing. I volunteered to be that someone.”
“Oh. That’s certainly kind of you, Mr. Brody, if completely unexpected.”
He fished in his pocket. “Here’s the telegram, if you’d like to see it.”
She read it over. Lady Sybil was arranging for a package to be shipped to the Brody Hotel for Collette, and she would be paying for both food and lodging during Collette’s stay as well. “This all seems so very generous. I’d only asked for her advice, not for her to take care of me.”
Mr. Brody smiled. “Some people enjoy going the extra mile when they see someone in need of a hand up.”
“Yes, that certainly describes Lady Sybil.” Collette felt just as shaken as she did when she’d first been left behind in Creede, except that now she was overcome with gratitude and not fear. It seemed she was to experience every emotion she was capable of feeling in just a few short days.
“It will take a day’s travel by train to reach Topeka, but I’ve brought my younger sister along so you’ll have someone to talk with,” he said. “Where did she get to, anyway?” He craned his neck around. “She most likely ducked into the general store for a moment—that girl loves to shop like no one I’ve ever seen. When can you be ready to leave, Miss Barnard? Is tomorrow’s train all right with you?”
“Tomorrow will suit very well,” she replied. In fact, the timing couldn’t have been better—her room was only paid for that long, and she’d been wondering what to do from there on out. She was sure Beatrice would take her in, but her friend already had her hands full. “I just need to finish one mending task for a customer I managed to find while here, and then I’m ready to go.”
Mr. Brody lifted an eyebrow. “You were able to find work in this quiet little place? That shows some diligence, I would think.”
“It wasn’t immediate, but yes, I did find some. Just mending a few gowns.”
He nodded, seeming to approve. “And tomorrow gives you enough time to finish?”
“It should, yes.”
“Well, my sister has a fair hand with a needle. Maybe she could help out.”
“I’d be glad of it if I find it’s needed.”
Just then, the door to the hotel opened, and a pretty young woman with blonde hair entered the lobby. “Here she comes now,” Mr. Brody said, coming to his feet and holding out his arm. “Hope, this is Miss Barnard.”
The girl came forward, a broad smile on her face. “So you’re the one we’ve come to rescue,” she said, tucking her arm through Collette’s. “It’s quite exciting, really. Gabriel’s carrying a pistol under his jacket lest we’re beset upon by robbers, and I’m here to be your chaperone so he doesn’t carry you off into the sunset.”
“I . . . beg your pardon?”
Mr. Brody laughed. “My sister enjoys romance novels, Miss Barnard, and she’s decided this is all some kind of grand adventure instead of three people riding a train for a day. I’ll get us booked into the hotel, and when you’ve finished your tasks, we can finish getting ready to leave.” He nodded, then walked over to the desk to speak with the clerk.
Miss Brody turned back to Collette. “I’m so glad to meet you. I can’t even imagine—stranded in a strange country, no friends to call your own, living on crusts of bread. But we’re here now, and we’ll take wonderful care of you!”
Collette smiled. “You’re very kind, Miss Brody, but things haven’t been as bad as all that. I’ve made a few friends here in town, and they’ve made sure I had more than bread.”
“Oh, that’s good. My poor mother was so worried, but I knew you’d find a way—it’s a new century, forevermore, and women aren’t the delicate things people once thought we were. We can take care of ourselves.” She took a seat on the sofa and patted it for Collette to join her. “Now, be honest. What do you think of my brother?”
Collette felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Your brother? What do you mean?”
Miss Brody leaned forward and spoke confidingly. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I know how good-looking he is—all my friends are completely in love with him, but I don’t like any of them well enough for him. I do like you, though.”
“Me?” Collette nearly choked. “But you just met me, and I just met him, and I’m not looking for a husband, and . . .”
Miss Brody laughed. “I can tell a lot about a person right off, and you’re exactly the kind of girl I’d want for my brother. As far as not looking for a husband, well, come on now. We’re all looking, whether or not we think we are. It’s natural for our species.”
Collette wondered if that was actually true. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind finding someone, but I can’t pick one out of a crowd and just decide that’s the one I want. I don’t know a single thing about your brother, aside from the fact that it’s very kind of him to come fetch me. For that matter, though, you came too, and I don’t see myself wanting to marry you.”
Miss Brody laughed again. “Do you see why I like you, Miss Barnard? My instincts were correct—you’re forthright, and you have a sense of humor. Not one girl in Topeka can say what she means when she’s around my brother. They simper and giggle and bat their eyelashes like they’re trying to shoo away the flies. I’m not at all surprised that he doesn’t have any use for them because neither do I.”
Just then, Mr. Brody turned and walked toward them, taking the seat Collette had vacated. “We’re all set for the night, and we’ll take the train tomorrow at twelve thirty. Have you two girls had the chance to get to know each other a bit?”
“Yes, and I like her immensely,” Miss Brody said. “We’re going to get along very well.”
Collette hoped Mr. Brody wasn’t aware of his sister’s matchmaking schemes. “I’ll get to work on finishing up that last repair, Mr. Brody,” she said, coming to her feet.
He rose too. “Please, it’s Gabriel, and this is Hope. We aren’t ones to be overly formal.”
Collette smiled. “Then it’s Collette. Thank you again for coming—it means a great deal to me.”
“I was dying to get out of Topeka for a little while, so I was delighted that you needed rescuing,” Hope said. “Well, not that you were in trouble—I could never be delighted when someone was in trouble. I was just glad for the chance for the trip.”
“Please join us in the dining room for dinner,” Gabriel said, seeming to ignore his sister. Collette wondered if he found himself having to do that a lot.
“Thank you. I will.” Colle
tte gave each of them a nod, then returned to her room to finish up the last seam. Her fingers trembled as she worked. Lady Sybil had most certainly worked some miracles to bring all this about. Kind new friends to escort her to a place to stay, all arranged from across the ocean? She murmured a quick prayer of thanks, then rethreaded her needle and got to work in earnest. She’d finish up and be ready to leave on her new adventure, although she was sure it wasn’t the sort of adventure Hope had been craving.
Chapter Four
Gabriel watched Miss Barnard—er, Collette—disappear up the stairs, a smile on his face. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he headed off on this journey. He’d only volunteered because he needed an escape, but unlike Hope, he wasn’t looking for an adventure. He was looking to find peace in his muddled brain.
His father had purchased the Brody Hotel in 1875, renovating it from its dilapidated condition and turning it into one of the most well-respected hotels along the rails in any state in the nation. Adam and Elizabeth Brody had run it together, bringing up their children to help them in the business, and they all felt it in their blood. Rose and Hope had been trained as chambermaids, waitresses, and cooks, and either one of them could take over at a moment’s notice. Adam, however, had pulled Gabriel aside two mornings before and asked him to take over the hotel and all its surrounding properties and interests, and Gabriel had absolutely no idea what to say.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take over his father’s business. As the only son, it had been assumed from the start that this was his legacy. But if his father was talking about passing it on now, that meant things were much worse than Gabriel had allowed himself to believe. His mother was surely failing, and he couldn’t bring himself to contemplate that. Elizabeth Brody was the life that poured through the hotel, through the family—she was the breath that kept them going. If she died . . . Gabriel swallowed. Both his parents knew that she would. That’s why both of them had spoken to him, to prepare him for what was surely inevitable.
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