Hidden in a Whisper

by Tracie Peterson

  “I don’t understand, Miss Carson. What is it you’re trying to say?”

  He could see that she was extremely nervous, and instantly his mind began to conjure all manner of thought. Had she seen something? Had the thief returned? “Please tell me what’s the matter.”

  Gwen nodded. “I cleaned up the blood, then I tried to move Rachel’s desk back, but it was too heavy. So I thought if I opened the drawers, I could take them out and lighten up the weight.”

  She faltered, and Braeden could see that she was clearly shaken. “Go on,” he urged.

  “I opened the largest of the drawers … and … and … inside it … well, inside it was a snake.”

  “A snake?” Braeden questioned. “How would a snake get inside a desk drawer?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I don’t know, but it was there and I think somebody put it there to hurt Rachel.”

  Suddenly Braeden got a bad feeling about the entire matter. “What kind of snake was it?”

  Gwen’s eyes widened. “It was a rattler.”

  “What did you do about it?” Braeden was trying desperately to keep his emotions under control.

  “I took it out of there.”

  He smiled at the shy girl. “You?”

  “I’ve had to deal with snakes since we lived in a soddy when I was just a girl. They don’t frighten me all that much, but this was different.” Braeden actually reached out and hugged the young woman. “You may well have saved Rachel’s life. You should be commended.”

  “I figured I’d tell you because Miss Taylor might not think it was all that important. She tries hard to take care of herself, you know. She’s a very proud woman.”

  He smiled. “Yes, I know. Look, you did the right thing in telling me. I believe you may well be right about someone trying to hurt Rachel. I’ll need you to help me keep an eye on her. Can you do that for me?”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to keep her from harm. She’s been a wonderful friend to me.”

  Braeden nodded. “Go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day and we’ll all need our strength.” She turned to go, then Braeden called again. “And thanks for what you did.” He watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen. With a calm he didn’t feel, Braeden closed the dining room doors and wondered silently how he was going to deal with this latest incident. It would appear, he thought, that this was no theft. This act was more along the lines of a threat, and Rachel was clearly the intended victim.

  SEVENTEEN

  CASA GRANDE APPEARED TO BE a tremendous success. From the first morning meal until the afternoon luncheon, elegantly dressed people flooded into the resort with no other purpose than to celebrate. Rachel was exhausted by the time the noon meal was finally served, and as customers sat around the tables enjoying their dessert, she finally took a moment to grab a glass of water for herself.

  “You are working much too hard,” Reg chided her. He seemed genuinely concerned, but he also seemed a little preoccupied, even as he studied her.

  “This day is much harder than the others will be,” Rachel replied. “I’m not giving anything of myself that everyone else isn’t giving.”

  “I suppose you didn’t sleep well last night,” he murmured. His expression seemed to almost dare her to deny it.

  “Honestly, I’m fine.”

  “Still, you haven’t even eaten.”

  “I had some breakfast,” she protested.

  “Here, at least have a bit of fruit,” Reg encouraged.

  “No, I have to get back on the floor. Ivy Brooks is giving me considerable grief, and I must oversee her constantly. She never listens to Gwen.” Reg nodded, as if understanding completely.

  Rachel handed Reg the glass, smiled, and squared her shoulders. It was rather like going into battle, she thought. She came into the room just as Ivy’s lyrical laughter filled the air. She stood at a table of welldressed business associates for the Santa Fe. Smiling and batting her eyelashes, Ivy flirted outrageously with one particularly handsome man.

  Gritting her teeth, Rachel went to the table and smiled. “Are you gentlemen finding everything to your liking?” she questioned.

  Like children caught stealing cookies, the men looked nervously down at their plates, while Ivy sobered and turned on Rachel.

  “I have everything under control here,” she told Rachel sternly.

  “That’s wonderful,” Rachel replied. “Then if you gentlemen have no other needs at the present, I must have a word with my employee.”

  They nodded, murmuring their understanding, but Ivy was hardly receptive. She was clearly angry that Rachel would dare disturb her plans. Rachel ignored the look on Ivy’s face and instead stopped long enough before leaving the dining room floor to tell Gwen Carson that they were retiring for a few moments to the office.

  Once inside the privacy of her quarters, Rachel closed the office door and turned to face Ivy’s hostility.

  “If someone else takes my tips because of this little escapade,” Ivy declared, “I’ll tell my aunt and see to it that justice is done.”

  Rachel folded her hands calmly and stared in silence at Ivy for a moment. She had hoped only to reduce her anger and get her emotions under control, but Ivy took it as some sort of threat and said so.

  “If you are trying to intimidate me with that look, you might as well forget it.”

  “I’m not trying to intimidate,” Rachel finally replied. “I brought you here for a long-overdue verbal warning. Fred Harvey has a strict policy regarding the actions of his girls and their service to customers.

  While some small portion of flirting is to be allowed and expected, outright wantonness is not to be tolerated. It is hard enough to get people to understand and believe that Harvey Girls are not an extension of the lewd women who serve at saloons. However, by your actions in there just now, I would say your charms would be better used at Big Clara’s Cathouse down by the river.”

  “How dare you!” Ivy said, drawing up her full five-foot-four height. “I am the niece of this town’s founder, and you have no right to talk to me like that.”

  “You are my employee. I decide, in spite of what you might otherwise believe, whether you stay or leave Casa Grande. I have given you more leeway than most, allowing for your stubborn willfulness even when I knew it was not the best thing for the welfare of our group. I allowed you to fashion your hair differently, spend nights away from the resort at your aunt’s home, and have, in general, overlooked many of your offenses even while taking someone else to task for it. But no more. I sympathize with your plight in life. I am deeply sorry that your parents had to die so young, leaving you an orphan. However, I will not tolerate insolence. Nor will I allow for your lewd behavior on my dining room floor.”

  “What of your own lewd behavior?” Ivy questioned.

  “And what behavior would you be speaking of?” Rachel questioned, knowing she was implying having found Braeden and Rachel alone in her office well after curfew hours.

  “I think you know very well what I’m talking about.”

  “If you are referring to last night, then forget it,” Rachel countered, her Irish temper beginning to flare. “Go look at the stitches on Mr. O’Donnell’s head if you think to contradict me.”

  “Rules are rules. You said there was a ten-o’clock curfew for everyone. You said that no men were to be allowed in private quarters and assured us that no men would be allowed in your office after nine o’clock at night when the dining room would be formally closed and business concluded for the day.”

  “And all of those rules are still in effect,” Rachel replied. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, but in this case, I will. I took dinner with the O’Donnells, and when I returned, someone was in my office. I could see this because the thief was apparently not smart enough to think about leaving the light off while they came to steal what they would.”

  “How do you know it was a theft?” Ivy said smugly. “Maybe there was some other reason for someone to be in your office.”r />
  “There are no reasons for anyone to be in my office without my permission. The office was locked, which means someone had to find a way into it without notifying me for the key. But that aside, as Mr.

  O’Donnell attempted to catch the thief red-handed, he was, in fact, hit over the head.”

  “That might well be,” Ivy said smoothly, “but it doesn’t explain why you were in Braeden’s room earlier in the evening.” She laughed at the shocked expression on Rachel’s face. “I can see you weren’t prepared for me to know about that little escapade.”

  “I went for help.”

  Ivy laughed. “That’s not what it looked like. Oh, and don’t think for one minute that it’s just my word against yours. I have witnesses.”

  “I can’t believe this!” Rachel declared. “An innocent man is injured in my office, and you would condemn me for getting him help?”

  Ivy crossed her arms and gave Rachel a look of bored indifference.

  “Rumors have a way of getting around, and the truth isn’t always as clear as it should be.”

  Rachel felt as though a knife had been plunged into her heart. She knew full well the power of rumors. She had seen her own life destroyed by them, and now she feared they could destroy her once again.

  “My reputation speaks for itself, Miss Brooks.”

  “Maybe so, but you still broke the rules. And what about dear Braeden’s reputation?” she said, using his first name casually.

  Rachel ignored the bait and shook her head. “I’m sure Mr. Parker’s reputation is as easily defended as mine.”

  Ivy laughed. “Not when word gets out that he seduced me at the hot springs. You saw it yourself. He lured me there with a letter saying that he had to talk to me, then grabbed me in his arms at the first possible chance. I was helpless. Had you not returned for your book, who knows what might have happened?”

  “Mr. Parker explained that entire situation,” Rachel replied. Then, seeing the smug look of satisfaction on Ivy’s face, she realized that she’d played right into her hand. Now Ivy knew in no uncertain terms that the event had bothered her enough to require an explanation after the fact.

  “Of course he explained it,” Ivy replied. “He wouldn’t want his reputation compromised, now, would he?”

  “This is ridiculous. We’re wasting time.”

  “I quite agree,” Ivy said as her eyes narrowed. “Now you will listen to me. Unless you leave me alone and stop badgering me about my actions, I shall have to go to the proper authorities and tell them of Mr. Parker’s behavior.”

  Rachel swallowed hard. She couldn’t have cared less for the threats to herself, but that Ivy would actually seek to hurt Braeden in the process was more than she was willing to deal with. Still, she couldn’t allow the girl free rein, and that in and of itself created quite a dilemma.

  As if sensing Rachel’s inability to decide what to do, Ivy uncrossed her arms and walked to the door. “It does make a sticky situation, does it not?” she said, turning to pause. “I mean, if you care about him the way you seem to, then you have to save his reputation from harm. My aunt would never hear of him remaining in charge of Casa Grande if she thought him capable of molesting an innocent young girl.”

  “You know he did nothing wrong,” Rachel protested.

  Ivy gave her an ugly smile. “You’d really like to believe that, wouldn’t you?” With that, she opened the door and walked away, leaving Rachel to stare in dumbfounded silence. The girl had managed to strike at the very core of Rachel’s fears and insecurities.

  “What do I do with this one, Lord?” Rachel muttered. She went to her desk and took a seat. Her mind raced with thoughts of running after Ivy and firing her on the spot, but her heart bid her to be less reactionary. What if Ivy was able to get Braeden fired? What if she so ruined his reputation that he couldn’t remain in Morita?

  “Why can’t things be simple?” she questioned, looking to the ceiling as she did on so many occasions. “Why must I continue with this thorn in my side?”

  Outside her office, music could be heard as a full orchestra played in the ballroom down the hall. They were featuring a piece with plenty of rhythmic changes and brass fanfare. It was intended to draw people in from all over the resort, and Rachel had little trouble believing it would do just that. The orchestra was to perform at one-thirty for half an hour, then one of the dignitaries would speak to the group and make announcements for the afternoon and evening’s events.

  Rachel would normally have taken great joy in the celebration, but Ivy’s threats, Jeffery’s injury, and the violation of her office were all weighing heavy on her heart. Putting her head down on her desk, Rachel prayed for the strength to endure and for the protection of those she loved.

  “I wondered where you had gone off to,” Braeden said in a soft, low tone.

  Rachel immediately came upright. He was leaning casually against the doorjamb, watching her quite intently. The expression on his face betrayed the feelings he held for her. It nearly took Rachel’s breath away. “I was … well … I had to …” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “The crowds are gathering in the ballroom,” he said, stepping into her office. “It should afford you a bit of rest. You look completely exhausted.”

  Rachel smiled. She gladly let the conversation take a turn from anything too personal. “I suppose I am, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Have you seen Jeffery?”

  “Yes, I talked with him and his lovely wife. He appears no worse for the wear.”

  She nodded. “Yes, he came to speak with me first thing. I’m so relieved he wasn’t hurt more seriously.”

  “It could have been much worse.” Braeden’s expression grew very serious, and Rachel couldn’t help but wonder why. “I want you to be very careful, Rachel. It might not even be a bad idea to have me look through your office and private quarters before you retire for the night.”

  Remembering Ivy’s threat, Rachel shook her head. “That’s hardly necessary, Braeden. I’m sure I’ll manage just fine. I’ll keep the doors locked.”

  “You kept the doors locked last night and it did little good.”

  She knew he was right, but her mind was hardly on that incident as he came nearer to where she sat. She could smell his cologne, and it reminded her of being in his arms. She thought of Ivy and her threats and knew there was no end to the lengths she would go to protect Braeden.

  She also thought of Ivy’s words about Braeden luring her to the pool. It hurt to imagine that anything like that would ever happen, and she knew that she had to make a decision about trusting Braeden. Maybe trust had to be earned, but no doubt there would always be circumstances that would interfere with the process. In this case, trust would have to be a choice that she made. Either she trusted him or she didn’t, and looking up at him now, seeing the love in his worried expression, Rachel knew that she must trust him.

  She tried to smile as she got to her feet. “I must return to my girls. But I want you to know that I’ve thought a great deal about what you said regarding trust. Trusting God is something I’ve never questioned— not in earnest, anyway. God has always been very faithful, and I’ve never had a reason to doubt Him. I know trust is important for us as well. I’m sorry that I allowed my mother to so thoroughly ruin our plans. It wasn’t my intention—it was just that I couldn’t believe that the one person who loved me most in the world would do anything to make me unhappy. I’m still positive that she never meant to unduly hurt me. She actually liked you very much. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I know I have a difficult time trusting—you or anyone else. But because I expect trust, I know I must give it.”

  He took hold of her hand and caressed it very gently. “I know this comes hard to you. But I promise to be faithful and never give you any reason to doubt me again.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “I love you, Rachel, and I want you to always trust me.”

  Rachel nodded and drew her strength from her
prayers. “I do trust you, Braeden. I honestly do.”

  EIGHTEEN

  IVY STORMED BACK to the nearly empty dining room, pausing only long enough to collect her tips from the now deserted table. The money was good, but not nearly as good as it might have been.

  I’ll show Rachel Taylor who she can and can’t order around.

  She pocketed the money, then, ignoring the other girls, made her way into the kitchen, where Reginald Worthington stood talking to one of his bakers.

  The man clearly had a romantic interest in Rachel, although Ivy couldn’t figure out why this should be. Rachel’s auburn hair and hourglass figure might serve her well enough, but her face was plain and her personality left a great deal to be desired. But perhaps because of Reg’s interest in Rachel, Ivy could enlist him as an ally.

  “Mr. Worthington,” she said rather sweetly, “I wonder if I might have a word with you.” She batted her eyelashes and added, “Privately.” Reginald looked up rather surprised, but nodded. “Step into the storage room, Miss Brooks.”

  Ivy nodded and followed him to the large supply room, where a conveyor belt was laden with crates. Maneuvering around stacks of boxes, a plan began to formulate in Ivy’s head. She wondered how she might figure out his response before committing herself to something underhanded. The last thing she needed was for Reginald Worthington to act the part of do-gooder and go blabbing her plans to Rachel.

  “Mr. Worthington,” she said as he turned with a questioning expression, “I know you are interested in Rachel Taylor.”

  “Miss Brooks, I hardly see that this discussion is appropriate.”

  “Just hear me out. I think I might be able to help you.”

  “Help me what?” Reg questioned, obviously confused.

  “Help you get Rachel.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  Ivy wanted to scream. The man was positively dim-witted. Would she have to draw him a picture? “I know you fancy yourself in love— or at least smitten—with Rachel Taylor. I can see it in your face every time she’s around you.” The man actually blushed, and it gave Ivy all the fuel she needed to continue. “I believe there’s a way for you to get Rachel for yourself. And, if you don’t mind a tiny bit of underhandedness in the process, I believe you could have her in such a position by tomorrow … probably even tonight.”