An Unspoken Dream
Kansas Crossroads Book Thirteen
by Amelia C. Adams
Cover design by Steven Novak
©Amelia C. Adams 2017
My thanks to my beta readers—Amy L., Amy P., Erin, George, Jeene, Jennifer, Lorena, Mary, Meisje (thank you for buying Grace a sewing machine!), Renee, Tammy, and Tracy.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Topeka, Kansas
1876
Grace McAllister looked around the empty dining room at the Brody Hotel and sighed. Just moments before, the place had been filled with loud customers and chaos, but they had then trickled out, leaving dirty dishes in their wake. The silence was such a nice change.
She’d been asked to fill in as the dining room manager while Giselle and her new husband, Jesse McVey, were on their honeymoon, and it was overwhelming, to say the least. Giselle was a lot better at handling the maelstrom than she was. Of course, Giselle had a great deal more experience, but her natural temperament was calmer than Grace’s. Grace wanted to stand up on a chair and yell at everyone to settle down, that their food was coming, and no, they weren’t going to miss their train.
“That was crazy,” Carrie said, coming in from the kitchen with the laundry basket on her hip. She set it down on a chair and began pulling cloths off tables.
Grace picked up the dirty dishes from the table nearest her. “It’s just going to get worse as we move closer to summer. I’ve heard that more and more people have decided to come west, even more than last year—Mr. Brody picked an excellent time to get into the hotel business.”
“I’m glad you approve, Miss McAllister.”
She looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Brody walking toward her carrying some dirty dishes from his office. “I was wondering when you were going to turn those in,” she teased.
“I try not to let them go for more than a few months at most,” he returned with a smile. “I really should just eat in the kitchen, but I can get so much more work done in my office.”
“As long as you don’t spill soup on your ledger.”
Grace carried her plates into the kitchen, Mr. Brody right behind her carrying his, and they set them all on the table near the basin where Nora was washing dishes. The girl looked tired, as she usually did, and it was really no wonder. After a busy meal service like that, they could have a hundred plates to wash, and it was no small task.
Nora glanced up from the sudsy water. “Mr. Brody, Grace, could I speak with both of you for a minute when I’m finished with these?”
Mr. Brody and Grace exchanged a look. “I think she means to scold us for bringing her more dishes when she’s almost done,” Mr. Brody said in an undertone.
“We ought to be better about that,” Grace replied.
“No, it’s . . . it’s something quite a lot more serious.” Nora glanced around. “In private? Your office, Mr. Brody?”
“Of course. I don’t mean to make light of your situation. Bright, sunshiny days just bring out the levity in me. Come over as soon as you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Nora replied, bending back to her work.
Grace picked up a dishcloth. “Let me help you. The other girls can clear the tables.”
Nora sent her a fleeting smile.
Within a few minutes, the two girls had washed everything that had been brought in, even the last-minute dishes, and they’d tossed the water outside. Then they walked back through the dining room and down the hall to Mr. Brody’s office. He sat behind his desk with his wife, Elizabeth, nearby.
“Come in,” he said, “and close the door. I figured you might like Elizabeth here too, considering that everything that happens here is just as much her responsibility as it is mine.”
“Yes, I would like both of you here. Thank you,” Nora replied. She looked pale—but then, she always looked pale. She took a seat and pressed her hands together. Grace wondered what had her so nervous. But then, she’d always looked nervous, too, since the first day she came to the hotel.
“Nora, what’s the matter?” Elizabeth asked kindly. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”
Nora took a deep breath. “But it’s horrible. I can’t imagine what you’ll think of me.”
Mr. Brody leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. “We’ve seen horrible, Nora, and I think you’ll find us fair.”
“Oh, I know you’re fair. That’s why I’ve stayed. I just . . .” A tear rolled down Nora’s cheek, and she pulled in a quick breath. “It . . . would seem that I’m expecting.”
Grace shook her head. It now made sense, and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. Nora had seemed tired and slow, but she’d thought maybe the girl just wasn’t as quick on her feet as the others.
“When?” Elizabeth asked.
“October.”
“And the father?” Mr. Brody looked at her intently.
Nora pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “That’s . . . the biggest problem of all. I . . . was at a friend’s house celebrating her engagement, and I was in the kitchen slicing pie for the guests, and suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, and there was a closet . . .” Shudders racked her body, and Grace put her arm around the girl. She could feel Nora’s fear radiating off her. “He was one of my friend’s party guests, and I don’t even know his name.”
Mr. Brody’s jaw clenched. Grace could see the muscles working in his cheeks. He was quiet for a long minute before he said, “And what brings you here to us?”
“My parents . . . I told my parents what happened, and my father threw me out. He said he didn’t want a brazen hussy living under his roof. He blamed me for everything.”
“Did they know about the baby?” Elizabeth asked.
“No—this was right after it happened. I didn’t know about the baby for a while, of course. I lived with a neighbor for several weeks, hoping my father would change his mind, and when he didn’t, I decided it was time for me to make a new life for myself. That’s when I came here, and I was starting to suspect, but I didn’t know for sure until this morning. I had an appointment with Dr. Wayment before the first train. I thought I should tell you right away, and Grace, because she’s overseeing the dining room right now, and you’d need to be thinking about a replacement after you send me away.”
Mr. Brody pushed up from the desk and started to pace. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I just can’t believe it!”
Nora flinched at his raised voice, but Grace knew what Mr. Brody was thinking. He wasn’t angry at Nora—not by a long shot.
“How could a man take advantage of a girl like that? And how could a father throw his daughter out into the street? If there’s anything I can’t stand, Nora, it’s a man who takes violent action against women. That’s why I’ve taught every waitress who comes through my door how to shoot. It’s just as well that you don’t know the name of your attacker or I might be inclined to go have a talk with him. With my sidearm.” Mr. Brody looked fierce, a complete change from his jovial mood just moments before.
“What do you plan to do now, Nora?” Elizabeth asked. “This news must have be
en a terrible shock.”
Nora nodded. “It was. I have wondered for a little while, but having it confirmed . . . I don’t know what I’ll do. I honestly don’t.”
“You’ll have a home here as long as you need one,” Mr. Brody said. “I won’t be another man to throw you out or treat you ill.”
Nora closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Thanks aren’t necessary. It’s my privilege.”
“Tell us about your mother,” Elizabeth said. “Was she as angry as your father?”
“She was unhappy.” Nora sounded a little reluctant to answer the question, and Grace wondered why.
“I can’t help but think that it might be a good idea to write to her and let her know,” Elizabeth went on. “Perhaps the news of a baby would soften their hearts.”
Nora was shaking her head before Elizabeth even finished her sentence. “No, it wouldn’t. Nothing will soften my father’s heart at this point. He’s a harsh man, Elizabeth. He’s . . . no. Nothing will change.”
“Would you allow me to write your mother just to tell her that you’re safe?” Elizabeth pressed. “As a mother myself, I think she’d want to know that much.”
“I . . . I guess so,” Nora said. “I’ll give you the address.”
“Thank you. That will ease my heart a bit.” Elizabeth looked at Nora, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry you’ve been through this.”
“No one’s . . . no one’s said that to me before.” Nora wiped her eyes again. “I can’t believe how kind you’re being to me.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Mr. Brody said. “For that matter, even if you had been less than discreet with your actions, I still wouldn’t throw you out, and no one should.”
A train whistle sounded in the distance, and Grace came to her feet. She hoped the other waitresses had managed to put the dining room together without their help—it was a job that could be done quickly when everyone was available, but missing two girls, it would be trickier. “Nora, why don’t you go upstairs and rest for a little while?” she suggested. “You look about done in, and we can handle it.”
Nora looked surprised. “Are you sure? It was so busy just now, and I don’t want to cause a problem.”
“If it gets too busy, I’ll step in,” Elizabeth said. “I started out here as a waitress, you know. Before I became Mrs. Brody.”
Grace smiled as she walked out into the hall. Adam and Elizabeth Brody’s love story was well known around the hotel, and one she loved to hear. It was almost like reading a novel, but with real people, and that made it all the more romantic.
She looked into the dining room to see that the other waitresses had indeed gotten everything set up. They must be wondering what was going on—they’d need to be told. Of course, they’d soon be able to figure it out for themselves, if Nora was three months along. Grace pressed her lips together, unable to imagine going through any of that, then went into the lobby to greet their customers as they streamed in off the train.
“Hello, Miss … McAllister, was it?”
She looked up into the face of a young man who looked familiar, but she wasn’t quite sure how she knew him. “Yes, Mr. . . .?”
“Howard. Gilbert Howard. Your cook, Sarah, married my brother, Stephen.”
“Oh, that’s right. You came for their wedding in the middle of that horrible blizzard. Please, call me Grace. What brings you back this way?”
“I’ve come to discuss a business proposition with my brother.” He leaned down and lowered his voice. “Is Nancy Ann well?”
Grace looked over to where Nancy Ann was ushering guests into the dining room. She remembered that Mr. Howard had flirted with the girl quite a bit when he was there before. “She’s doing well. She and her new husband are very happy.”
He nodded. “That’s how it should be—I realized after I left that he was by far the better man, and I should never have interfered.” He looked down at the floor and then back up. “Now, it smells rather wonderful in here. What’s on the menu today?”
“We have corn bread and beans, venison stew with hot biscuits, or chicken pot pie.”
“And what if I want to throw the entire kitchen into a ruckus and order venison stew with corn bread?”
“I’m sure that would give the cook a coronary attack, but considering that she’s your sister-in-law, perhaps she’ll let it pass. Just this once.” Grace crooked her finger. “Come with me, and I’ll show you a table.”
She seated him in the center of the dining room next to three other gentlemen who all seemed to be traveling alone. She took their orders as well, then promised to be right back.
“Sarah, Gilbert Howard is in the dining room,” she told the cook as she placed corn bread on her tray. “He says he’s come to see Stephen about a business proposition.”
Sarah paused in ladling out stew, her spoon in midair. “Oh, that should be interesting. Gilbert’s always had more schemes than anyone else I know.”
Nancy Ann entered the kitchen just then. “Grace, is that Gilbert Howard out there?”
“It is. Do you think Timothy will want to have a word with him?” Grace teased.
“No, I’m sure they’ve moved past their differences. I made my choice, after all. It’s just awkward seeing him here.”
Grace loaded up her tray and turned to leave. “He says he realized Timothy was the better man, if that helps any.”
“It does, but only a little bit.” She shook her head. “He’s . . . he’s not like other people. He considers himself entirely above all the rules.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, Mrs. Hancock. You’ve got a good husband to champion your cause if need be.” Grace reentered the dining room and delivered the food to Mr. Howard’s table, then moved on to the next. They were just as busy now as they had been earlier, and she almost regretted sending Nora upstairs to rest, but she imagined they’d be fine. Posy had learned her job well and was moving from table to table efficiently, and Elizabeth had said she was available if needed. Grace sighed. She couldn’t wait until Giselle came home and things were back to how they should be. She was a follower, and definitely not much of a leader.
Chapter Two
Gilbert Howard took a big bite of his stew and nodded. It was delicious, but then, that’s what he always expected from Sarah. She hadn’t been the girl for him, but she’d made his brother very happy, and she knew how to cook. He chuckled, thinking about it—he was more entangled with the waitresses at this hotel than he’d ever meant to become. First, a rather embarrassing situation with the cook, and then the way he’d fallen for Nancy Ann—he’d be better off refusing to associate with women ever again, the way things had gone for him up until now. It was best to concentrate on business. Numbers were much safer, and waitresses were definitely dangerous.
“Would anyone care for pie? We have apple and mince,” Grace said, appearing at the table again.
“I’ll take an apple,” one of the other men said.
“And I’ll have mince,” another replied.
Gilbert and the third man both shook their heads.
“I’ll be right back,” Grace said, gathering the dirty dishes that had been pushed aside.
Gilbert really didn’t have a reason to stay, since he wasn’t eating dessert, so he stood, thanked the other men for their company, and moved out into the lobby to pay for his meal. Mrs. Brody remembered him.
“I’d like to rent a room, too, if you have one available,” he said as he handed her the dollar fifty for his meal.
“Yes, we do,” she said. “Room four. I don’t see any luggage, though.”
“I asked the station master to hold my bag for me until I knew where I’d be. The truth, Mrs. Brody, is that I wasn’t sure if I’d be staying with my brother. I don’t know anything about his situation—if his home is large enough for a guest.” He chuckled. “And then I realized that considering my past relationship with Sara
h, it might be best if I didn’t impose on them too much. This way, she makes my meals, but she doesn’t have to endure my presence in her home.”
“I’m sure all that’s in the past, Mr. Howard, but you’re a kind man to think of it.” Mrs. Brody handed him the key to his room, and he put it in his pocket.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s kindness so much as self-preservation. My new sister-in-law has a way of cutting me down to size, and I can’t say I’m undeserving of it.”
Mrs. Brody laughed. “Then I’d say it’s wisdom that helped you make your choice. Whatever the case may be, welcome back to the Brody.”
“Thank you. I’ll go collect my luggage now.”
Gilbert pulled the door closed behind him and then walked over to the train station, which was as close to the hotel as it could be without sharing the same plot of land. It was seeing this perfect proximity last winter that had started him thinking, and now he had a full business plan to present to his brother. He just hoped that Stephen was ready to put the past behind them and move forward.
“Here’s your luggage, sir,” the station master said, bringing two bags out from behind the counter.
“Thank you,” Gilbert replied. He gave the man a tip, hefted one bag in each hand, and strode back to the hotel, but paused as he saw movement in the Brody’s side yard. He walked that way instead and set his bags down on the porch that wrapped around the entire building.
The waitresses were doing laundry over a washtub and a huge boiling pot of water. Grace was tossing a tablecloth over the line, and Nancy Ann was bent over a washboard with a napkin.
He knew he’d have to face Nancy Ann sometime—it might as well be now.
“Hello,” he said, crossing the grass and walking up to her.
She straightened and wiped her brow with her forearm. “Hello, Gilbert. I thought that was you I saw in the dining room just now.”
“I’ve come to see my brother. Just dropping off my luggage here before I head over.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.” She wrung out the napkin she was holding and tossed it into a basket of other wet things, then plunged a tablecloth into the basin. Steam rose from it, and he wondered how hot the water felt on her hands.
An Unspoken Dream (Kansas Crossroads Book 13) Page 1
