Inherited

by Gabrielle Meyer

  Jude was driven to redeem the sins of his past, but no matter how many women he rescued, he could never bring back to life the one woman he wanted to save, but couldn’t.

  His mother.

  What would the Bell sisters think when they met Violet or found out what he did with the proceeds from the hotel? Clarence hadn’t liked it, but he’d allowed Jude to continue if it didn’t interfere with the business. There was no way the prim and proper Miss Bell would approve—and, as 50 percent owner, she would have a say...if she found out.

  Jude handed the letter back to Elizabeth, resolve strengthening his voice. “I plan to speak to my attorney in the morning.”

  She put it back in the envelope. “What’s there to discuss? We own half of this hotel.”

  Jude cringed. It couldn’t be true. What did they know of running a business? “I don’t believe this letter will hold up in court. It’s not a legal document—just a piece of paper written when your father wasn’t in his right mind.”

  “His right mind?” Elizabeth spoke the words in a sort of hushed anger. She looked over her shoulder at her sisters and then around at the room of men watching them. She lowered her voice. “Mr. Allen, I do not believe we are in a frame of mind to argue this further tonight. I propose we both visit the attorney tomorrow and sort this out.”

  “Fine.”

  She stared at him.

  He stared back.

  The little girl roused in Grace’s arms and lifted her head to look around the room. She, unlike her sisters, had golden-blond hair and deep-brown eyes—the same color as Clarence’s. They blinked with sleep and came to rest on Jude. She studied his face and didn’t look away, even when she reached for Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth took the child and then addressed Jude. “We are all tired. Will you please show us to our father’s room?”

  Martha appeared from down the hall where she spent most of her time in the kitchen. She wiped her knotted hands on her apron, her concerned gaze hopping from one Bell sister to the other and finally landing on Jude. Her droopy bun hung loose at the back of her head and wisps of graying hair poked out around her face. She was one of the hardest workers Jude had ever met, which was one of the many reasons he trusted her explicitly. She watched all of them closely, but didn’t take a step forward to interfere.

  “Your father’s rooms are occupied,” Jude said.

  “Then we’d like whatever you have available. My sisters are tired.”

  How could he refuse Clarence’s daughters a place to stay, especially the child? But where would he put them?

  “Jude.” Martha finally approached, a frown of disapproval on her face. She had become his surrogate mother over the years and he felt her chastisement now. “Are these Clarence’s daughters?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “They’re tired and grieving and should have their papa’s rooms. You can sleep on one of the sofas in the parlor.”

  Elizabeth looked at once relieved and irritated. She addressed Jude. “You’re the one occupying my father’s rooms?”

  Jude had given the master’s suite to Clarence when they had purchased the establishment, but he’d moved in after Clarence passed. “I will give them to you and your sisters for now, but as soon as we clear up this mess, I’ll see you on the next stage out of town.”

  “Hush, now,” Martha said in her no-nonsense way. “All that can be worked out later. I’ll show them to their rooms.” Martha turned to the Bell sisters. “Don’t mind Jude. He’s just surprised, is all. I’m Martha Dupree. I’m the cook around here, but I’m more like the mama hen.” She chuckled at her own joke as she pulled the women close around her. “I’ll show you to your rooms and Andrew can bring up your things.” She glanced at Andrew, the stagecoach driver.

  He dipped the brim of his hat and headed out the door.

  Martha ushered the ladies up the stairs, clucking all the way about how tired they looked and how hungry they must be.

  At least two dozen men stood around the lobby, watching their ascent with keen interest, no doubt wondering who the pretty strangers were and when they’d get a chance to meet. The town was young, only a few years old, and like many frontier settlements the single-male population far outnumbered the eligible females. It was probably a good thing they were going up to his room. With a ball going on, they’d soon be bombarded with attention and they didn’t look energetic enough to deal with that sort of problem.

  A thought struck Jude and he scrambled to get out from behind the counter. He raced up the stairs and ran down the hall, but he was too late. Martha had already showed them into his room.

  He had to get his journal before they noticed it lying open on the secretary. It was full of details about his mission work, his contacts throughout the territory and notes about several women who were in need of help.

  If they saw what he did, he was sure they would not think very highly of him or the women he rescued. Most proper young women didn’t.

  He and Martha worked hard to keep their mission work a secret from the citizens of Little Falls. It would be much harder to keep it hidden from two women and a child living under his roof.

  Chapter Two

  Elizabeth didn’t know what to expect, but she wasn’t prepared for the fine sitting room they entered.

  Martha lit a tall lamp using a match from a box on the fireplace mantel and the room filled with a soft glow.

  The walls were papered in tiny blue flowers and the trim was crafted of beautiful red oak. Two tall windows allowed the stars to be visible in the fading dusk, and a small fireplace sat empty on this warm night.

  “The bedroom is over there.” Martha indicated a door on the right as she picked up a man’s shirt hanging over the edge of a wingback chair.

  A cursory glance around the room indicated Mr. Allen was not tidy. A lone shoe peeked out from under a table, a pair of suspenders hung from a lamp and a journal lay open on a secretary with a few crumpled papers nearby.

  “I’ll just grab Jude’s things and then you can get sett—”

  “I’ll take care of my own things.” Jude walked through the open door and went to the secretary, where he snapped the book closed. With quick hands, he picked the discarded paper up off the desk and then went around the room gathering his personal items. Though he was tall, he moved about with surprising grace. His suit was pressed, his shoes shining and his hair combed into perfect submission. It was clear Mr. Allen liked his appearance in order—so why the disheveled room?

  “I’ll get my things out of my bedchamber and be on my way,” he said as he entered the other room and closed the door.

  “I’ll grab the clean linen while we wait for Jude. It’s just down the hall.” Martha bustled out of the sitting room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her sisters.

  “I’m tired, Lizzie.” Rose laid her head against Elizabeth’s shoulder.

  “We’ll be in bed in just a moment.” She swayed back and forth, holding her sister close while Grace went to the window and stared outside.

  After a few minutes, Jude’s bedroom door opened and he held a small trunk on his shoulder. “Tell Martha I’ll sleep on one of the sofas in the ballroom parlor tonight.”

  “I heard you well enough,” Martha said as she walked back in. “You go on now. I need to get that wee one in bed.”

  Jude left the sitting room as Martha led the way into the bedroom. “How are you holding up, lovey?” she asked Elizabeth. “Clarence was a good man. Though he could be surly at times, to be sure, I’m still grieving our loss.”

  Elizabeth allowed the first smile to warm her lips at Martha’s frank assessment. She remembered Papa in much the same way, though Mama had always tempered his bad moods with her gentle manner. “I’m doing much better now that I’m here.”

  Martha nodded and patted Elizabeth’s hand as she guided her into the
bedroom. “The three of you should fit comfortable-like in this room, though it might be a tight squeeze in that bed.” Martha set the clean linens on a bureau and clasped her hands together.

  The room held a bed, a bureau, a rocking chair and a large green trunk that had belonged to Papa.

  Martha noticed the trunk, too. “Jude was meaning to bring your pa’s things to the attic.” She went to the trunk and lifted the lid. “I think there will be a few things in here you’ll like to have.”

  Elizabeth slowly followed her to the trunk, unsure if she could face more memories of her father. She had been angry and hurt when he left them, and then overwhelmed with the burden of her responsibilities. In her head, she wanted to believe she had forgiven him—but her heart wasn’t as certain.

  Martha pulled out a daguerreotype and handed it to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth set Rose on her feet and ran her fingertip over the cool metal. “Mama.” It was the only picture they had of their mother, and Papa had brought it with him when he left. “I almost forgot what she looked like.”

  Grace stood just inside the door, her detached gaze looking anywhere but at the picture.

  “Mama?” Rose asked, tugging on the sleeve of Elizabeth’s dress. “Is that my mama?”

  Elizabeth bent to show Rose the picture for the first time. The lantern light flickered over the image, making it appear lifelike.

  “She looks like you.” Rose glanced up at Elizabeth. “She was pretty.”

  “Grace and I look like Mama.” Elizabeth put her hand on Rose’s cheek. “You look more like Papa’s family.”

  Martha had remained quiet as she watched them, but now she made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Poor dears. I’ll get this linen changed so you can go to sleep.”

  Elizabeth helped her strip the bed and then put on the clean sheets. Andrew came into the sitting room with their luggage and soon they were all set for the night.

  Martha looked around one more time and then said to Elizabeth, “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the kitchen at the back of the hotel until the ball is over.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth closed the door of the suite behind her, then she returned to the bedroom and found Grace helping Rose unbutton her dress to change into a nightgown.

  It was just Elizabeth and her sisters, alone again. She looked at both of them, feeling, as always, that she had somehow failed. “I had no idea Papa had a partner. It changes all my plans.”

  Grace glanced up at her but didn’t say anything.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and put on a smile for Rose’s benefit. “I’ll trust God that it will work out just fine. He didn’t forsake us in Rockford and He won’t forsake us here, either.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Grace pulled Rose’s dress off over her head. “The way I look at it, He didn’t do us any favors before and He won’t do us any favors now. We’re no better off than when we were in Rockford—at least there we had friends.” She went to Rose’s trunk and took out a nightgown, her movements quick and awkward.

  It didn’t pay to argue with Grace when she was in this frame of mind. The friends Grace had in Rockford had been leading her in a direction Elizabeth didn’t want her to go, but Grace did not agree.

  Instead of fighting, Elizabeth untied the ribbon under her chin and removed her bonnet with deliberate care. Rose watched her older sisters closely, and though Elizabeth could not control how Grace acted, she could control her own behavior.

  Grace slipped Rose’s nightgown on over her head and began to unlace her boots. “What will we do?” she asked Elizabeth. “Will we stay?”

  “Of course we’ll stay.” Elizabeth squatted down to help remove Rose’s boots. “This is our hotel and I plan to operate it to the best of my ability.”

  “How?” Grace sat on the bed. “We might own half the business, but no man will allow you to have a say in how he runs his establishment.”

  Elizabeth took off Rose’s stockings and turned down the bedcover. She motioned for Rose to climb in. Thoughts of her old employer, Mr. Brown, filled her with terrible memories. He owned the general store Elizabeth had worked at in Rockford, and he had come to depend on her for all aspects of the store’s operation. She had done everything from stocking the merchandise to managing the books, and he had never once given her credit. When someone complimented his store, he’d boasted about his business acumen.

  The job had kept her and her sisters fed while Grace had finished school, and she found she had a natural knack for the work, but she had been forced to resist his advances from the first day. It had become harder and more wearisome with each passing month, especially when his wife assumed Elizabeth had been guilty of appalling things at the very end. Each time she said she was leaving, he would increase her pay and treat her better for a time. Truth be told, there were so few jobs available for a woman with her limited education, she couldn’t give up the work, no matter how difficult it was.

  She had looked forward to doing as she pleased with the hotel business—but now she would be forced to bend to another man’s will. Would Mr. Allen be just as horrible to work with?

  “There’s only one thing to be done,” Elizabeth said to Grace with more confidence than she felt. “We will need to raise enough money to buy Mr. Allen’s share of the hotel.”

  Grace stopped working on her boots and looked up at Elizabeth. “Why would we want to do something like that? Why don’t we sell our share to Mr. Allen?”

  “Mama and Papa spoke of owning a hotel for as long as I can remember, but they never had enough money to pursue the venture,” Elizabeth said. “We can’t give up on their dream now—especially when Papa wanted it this way.”

  “Their dream?” Grace asked with sarcasm in her voice. “Or yours?”

  “Of course it’s their dream. Don’t you care about their legacy?”

  Grace scoffed. “I don’t give a fig about this hotel or Mama and Papa’s dreams. Papa abandoned us and I don’t owe him a thing.”

  Elizabeth’s chest tightened and she wanted to cover Rose’s ears. It had been this way with Grace since their father left. Before Mama died, Grace had always been sweet and kind—a little mischievous, but never mean. The best thing for her would be to find a good husband, and the sooner the better. She needed to be settled in her own home and getting on with her life. She didn’t need to be saddled with their father’s hotel and a little sister. Those were Elizabeth’s responsibilities. She had forfeited her own happily-ever-after when she chose her family over James. What man would want her with all her responsibilities now? Isn’t that what James had said? She came with too many problems.

  Her sisters deserved better, and she would do whatever she could to ensure their happiness. She would find Grace a good husband as soon as possible and provide for Rose to the best of her ability.

  Elizabeth met Grace’s gaze and she knew her face revealed the depth of sadness she felt.

  For a moment, it looked as if Grace might soften, but then she inhaled a breath and kicked off her second boot. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

  Rose looked up at Elizabeth, searching for reassurance. The unconditional love in her big brown eyes was the reminder Elizabeth needed to keep fighting for Grace, for her parents’ dream and for her own future.

  Elizabeth winked at Rose and gave her a smile. “It’s time to sleep.”

  “I forgot to say my prayers.” Rose climbed out of bed and knelt on the floor. She said her nightly prayers and then got back into bed.

  Grace had put on her nightgown and sat beside Rose. “How will we raise enough money to buy Mr. Allen’s share? It could be thousands of dollars.”

  “Maybe we can get a loan from the bank.” Elizabeth tucked the covers in around Rose. “Regardless, we’ll have to do extra work to pay for it. I’ll speak to Mr. Allen about all of that tomorr
ow. For now, get some sleep and don’t worry.”

  Rose yawned. “I’m thirsty, Lizzie.”

  Grace lifted the sheet and snuggled into the bed without looking at Elizabeth.

  “I’ll get you something. But don’t leave this room,” Elizabeth said to Rose. “Stay here with Grace and I’ll come right back with something for you to drink.”

  Rose nodded, a solemn promise in her trusting eyes.

  Elizabeth kissed her forehead and left the bedroom through a door that led directly into the dark hallway. She stood for a moment, wondering where the kitchen might be. Martha had said it was at the back of the hotel.

  She walked down the hall to where a swatch of light lit up the stairway at the end. The sound of laughter and music made her feet itch to dance. It had been years since she’d gone to a ball. James had not approved of dancing, and after he left, her name had become sullied by Mrs. Brown’s accusations, so no one had extended another invitation.

  It would feel good to twist and twirl around a dance floor again, especially if she was in the arms of a competent dancer. For a fleeting moment, she thought of Mr. Allen’s strong form and graceful movements and wondered if he was any good at dancing, but the question soon faded when she remembered how much he irritated her.

  Hopefully she could sneak in and out of the kitchen without being noticed.

  She wasn’t in the mood to see him again tonight.

  * * *

  Jude stormed through the dining room and entered the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm cinnamon bread wafted up to meet him. But even that didn’t improve his mood.

  “What am I going to do with them?” he asked Martha as soon as the swinging door closed.

  “I don’t imagine there’s anything you can do with them.” Martha lifted a steaming pan of bread from the oven. “They’re here to stay.”