“When you teach, it’s not important how long you have known something, but how well.”
“That’s kind of you, considering I almost burned your hotel down.”
He grinned. “Why do you think I told you to tell Liu Yang not to touch the heating stoves?”
“Or stew?”
He chuckled.
Her stomach fluttered. “I don’t remember that you found the burned stew amusing. I was afraid you were going to throw me out.”
“Things change.”
The look in his eyes stole her breath. Her knees sagged. She groped behind her for the wall. “I—I was so surprised when Liu Yang and Li Min came, I didn’t thank you properly for your thoughtfulness.”
“No need. The business grew faster than I expected it would. It was obvious that you and Mrs. Fuller would soon be overwhelmed by the amount of work to be done. I don’t need you or Mrs. Fuller to make beds or wash dishes. I need her to cook. And I need you to help me with the guests.”
He needed her. She pressed her hand over a sudden flood of warmth in her chest. Her heart raced beneath her fingers.
“Virginia...” He put down the bucket, stepped closer.
“Bed done, mee-sus.”
She drew in air.
He stepped back, picked up the bucket. “Sounds as if you’re needed.”
“Yes.” It came out a whisper. She pushed against the wall until she was sure her legs would support her, then turned and walked into the bedroom.
* * *
What was he doing, flirting with her like that! Garret slammed out the door, stomped across the porch and down the steps to the path he’d shoveled across the service road and into the woods. He reached under a tree, dumped the bucket of ashes, threw the bucket up onto his back porch and strode up the road toward the railroad station. He’d lost his sense, that was what! Not to mention his self-control. He’d almost kissed her again! If Liu Yang hadn’t called for her...
Fool! He scooped up a handful of snow, pressed it hard and pitched it at the broken branch of a tree. It hit with a satisfying smack. He stooped and made another snowball, drew back his arm.
“Garret!”
He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked up the road. Mitch Todd was walking behind a wooden apparatus about three feet high being pulled by a horse. Snow was flying to the right and left, away from the sides of the device.
He dropped the snowball and broke into a trot, dodged the flying snow and fell into step beside the sawmill owner. “You’ve got the snowplow finished. And we sure need it.”
“That’s what I thought.” Mitch frowned and shook his head. “I need to make some changes to it. It bucks like a wild stallion, and skips over the snow instead of plowing through it. I think it needs to be heavier in the front.”
He studied the snowplow bucking and jumping in front of them. “I think you’re right.” He ducked beneath the reins Mitch held and leaped onto the bottom boards, then moved to the front. The nose of the plow dug deeper and pushed more snow to the sides. He glanced over his shoulder at the narrow, smooth path cut into the drifts. He wiped moisture from his face and raised his voice. “It’s working! But you’ll need to make it wider and go deeper!”
Mitch nodded and urged the horse to a faster speed. “We’ll go back over the same path again!”
The snowplow lurched. He took a firmer grip on the sides and splayed his legs to brace himself. He hadn’t meant to volunteer to be ballast for Mitch, but with the trains not running, there was nothing pressing for him to do at the hotel, and it would keep him from thinking about Virginia. He blew out a breath, blinked snow from his eyes. If she looked at him again with that soft, warm glow in her eyes—
The snowplow pitched. He slammed into the wooden side, righted himself and focused on staying upright.
A train whistle blew. He glanced toward the depot. Must be the Union Pacific workers had shoveled their tracks clear. He’d have a little more than five minutes to get ready for guests. He motioned to Mitch to stop.
“Whoa...”
He hopped off the plow, sank to his knees in the snow. “Let me know how much I owe you for the plow, Mitch.”
“When it’s right.” Mitch shortened his grip on the reins, stepped on the cross boards and clicked his tongue. The horse trotted off.
Garret ran up the steps to the porch, brushed the snow from his pants and jacket and went inside. Movement caught his attention. He looked into the dining room. Virginia was setting the four tables closest to the fireplace. She looked up. Her lips curved and soft laughter, musical as a rippling brook, issued from her. His stomach clenched.
“You look like a snowman.” She lifted the last dishes of butter and preserves from the tray to the fourth table. “I heard the train whistle and thought I’d get ready for the rush. Do you want me to take care of the desk while you put on some dry clothes?”
“That won’t be necessary. My shirt is dry. I’ll just put on my suit coat.”
Her smile faded. She nodded and walked toward the kitchen, her dress rustling softly, her long curls swaying with her movements.
He pulled his gaze from her, frowned and hurried to the sitting room, swapped his coats and put on his tie. He hadn’t meant to sound so brusque, but things were getting too...close between them. Robert’s wife had been sweet and warm and loving, until she ran off with another man. He had to maintain his distance from Virginia—stay safe.
He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He never should have accepted her in Millie Rourk’s place. He should have sent her on her way and told John Ferndale his intended bride had betrayed him. It was the truth. Ferndale would likely have given him more time. Now he was entangled in an in-name-only marriage with a woman who could be his undoing. If he let her.
He shoved open the door to the lobby and strode to the hearth. The fire chased the chill from his body. Yet the cold in his heart remained. He added a couple logs and poked them into place, turned to dry his pants.
The door opened and four soldiers entered, stomped their boots. A sergeant looked his way. “I know it’s not mealtime, but can we get somethin’ hot to eat fast? We got fifteen minutes till the train leaves.”
“Right this way, gentlemen.” He led them to the dining room. “We’ve got hot coffee, and bread with butter and preserves. Or a doughnut. Or apple pie. It’ll cost you seven cents. Five cents for any extras.”
“Well, at least the coffee is hot. And anything will be good after helpin’ to shovel that pass clear for two days. I’ll have pie.” The soldier beside him fished coins from his pocket, grabbed a chair and pulled it back from the table. The others chorused agreement and tossed their money into a pile on the table.
Virginia came from the kitchen carrying a coffeepot.
He motioned her to the table. “My wife will serve you, gentlemen.”
The soldiers whipped off their hats, stared.
“These men have all ordered pie, Virginia. But they’ve been helping to shovel out the pass so the trains can run, and would like something hot to eat. If there is soup left from dinner, please bring them each a bowl. And there will be no charge. Put your money away, gentlemen. I appreciate your service in getting the trains moving again.”
The front door opened again. He hurried to the doorway, motioned to the soldiers filing into the lobby. “Come in and have a seat, gentlemen.” He led them to the prepared tables. “My wife will serve you as quickly as possible.”
The bell at the desk rang, and he rushed to the lobby. The conductor and engineer stood there, along with a host of passengers behind them. The conductor smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stevenson. I’ve come for that promised dessert, and a good hot cup of coffee to go with it. Jim here came along.”
The engineer nodded, scrubbed a hand over his scruffy beard. “I’ve heard about the good food served here. Been
wantin’ to come and try some, but never have time.” The beard divided to show the engineer’s teeth in a smile. “Train followin’ me is runnin’ late, so I got time today.”
“Well, I’m glad you could make it, gentlemen. Please come into the dining room and have a seat. You will be served as quickly as possible.” He shifted his gaze to the cluster of passengers. “That goes for any of you, as well. Unless you wish to register for a room.”
The people filed into the dining room. The tables filled rapidly. He watched Virginia glide from table to table, greeting the patrons and pouring coffee, then hurrying back and forth to the kitchen for food. She made it look effortless.
Ding! Ding! Ding! “What must one do to get some service in this establishment?”
Garret turned, eyed the older man standing at the desk. There were two expensive leather valises on the floor beside his polished boots. “I’m sorry for the delay, sir.” He pasted on a polite smile and strode across the room, took his place of authority behind the desk. “How may I help you?”
“I’d like a room, obviously. The best you have.” The man pulled off his gray leather gloves. “I assume you wish me to register?”
What he wished was to escort the arrogant man out the door. But he kept the smile in place. “I do.” He turned the ledger toward the man and slid the pewter pen and ink holder forward. “The charge will be one and one half dollars per night—in advance. You will share a dressing room with the guests in numbers seven, eight and nine, should they become occupied. The three daily meals are included in the cost, but there will be an additional charge for any extra food ordered, or any other visits to the dining room. Also, for any other items or services requested.”
“Rooms seven, eight and nine are not presently occupied?”
“That’s correct.”
“Excellent! I would like it stay to that way. Put the charges for those rooms on my tab, as well. I shall be staying for three days.” The man pulled a gray leather coin purse from his coat pocket and counted out the money, put it on the counter.
“Very good, sir. I have put you in room number nine.” He slipped the money into the till, turned to one of the boxes on the wall. “Here is your key. Would you like the keys to the other rooms, also?”
The man waved his hand. “That is not necessary. I only want them to stay vacant.”
“Very well. Would you care to visit the dining room for a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie, before going to your room?”
“I prefer the dining room clear before I visit it. You may send for your man to show me to my room.”
“We have only recently opened for business, sir. And help is difficult to come by here in Whisper Creek. I will show you to your room.” He stepped out from behind the desk and picked up the two leather valises. “This way, sir. Your room is upstairs—” he clenched his teeth, but couldn’t resist adding, “—away from the patrons of the dining room.”
* * *
“Well, the rush is over for the day, Mrs. Fuller.” Virginia looked up from the dishes she was loading on a tray and smiled. “The sun has set and the passengers aren’t inclined to walk to the hotel in the dark for supper. Especially the women.” She glanced toward the back door. “I hope Liu Yang and Li Min will get home safely. Garret told me there are wolves and other animals that might attack because of hunger.”
“They will be fine.” Garret strode into the kitchen, walked to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Ah Cheng is waiting for them at the edge of the woods. Did they do well today?”
“Yes. Very well. They both learn quickly and work very hard.”
“That’s good to know.” He looked at Mrs. Fuller. “Do you share Virginia’s opinion?”
His question was so abrupt it felt like a dismissal. Had she done something to displease him? She looked down, added cups and saucers to the tray.
The older woman gave her arm a gentle pat. “I do agree with Virginia, Mr. Stevenson. I haven’t washed a pot or pan all day. And that frees all my time for cooking.”
He nodded, put down his cup. “I came to tell you there are three new guests for supper. A Mr. and Mrs. Lowel, and another older man. A very wealthy man, from his appearance and demeanor. It seems odd that a man of his means would decide to stay in Whisper Creek.”
“Not when he has come for his daughter.”
Father! Virginia swayed, grasped the edge of the table and willed strength into her legs. Please, Lord, let him be alone. Don’t let Emory Gladen be with him.
She took a breath, turned and faced the man in the doorway. “Good evening, Father.”
Chapter Fourteen
Virginia took a deep breath, drifted her fingers over the keys to finish the piece, then closed the cover on the keyboard. She’d put him off as long as she could. The day was over. The guests had gone to their rooms. Except for her father. And Mrs. Fuller. Garret was working in his office. Her stomach sank. Tears stung her eyes. He didn’t care enough to even—
“That was lovely, Virginia. I could listen to you play all night. But it’s time for me to retire.” Mrs. Fuller rose and came to stand beside her. The woman’s hand rested on her shoulder for a moment, gave a small pat. “I’ll see you in the morning, dear.”
She nodded, too choked with gratitude for the older woman’s support and friendship to speak. She blinked tears from her eyes and watched Mrs. Fuller walk from the lobby, the long skirt of her worn, dark blue dress swishing softly.
“It’s good to hear you play again, Virginia. I’ve missed it.”
“Thank you, Father.” She took a steadying breath and rose from the piano seat.
“And it’s certainly better than seeing my daughter serving food to strangers in a public dining room.” He rose in turn, tugged his suit coat into place. “But that’s of no importance now.”
“It is to me.” She stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “I enjoy serving the guests. It’s not so very different from hosting your social gatherings at home.”
“There is no comparison! Don’t try my patience, Virginia. Now, come to my room, where we will have privacy to discuss my plans for your return home.”
“I prefer to stay here in the lobby. We’re quite alone.” She moved behind the desk and brushed her hands over the polished wood, drawing strength from the feel of it. She was no longer a helpless daughter dependent on her father for her every need. She was a wife—at least legally. And she now had skills—
“Don’t be disrespectful to me, young lady! That’s why I’ve had to come chasing after you in the first place.” Her father stepped to the front of the desk, gripped the edge. “I’m your father, and you will do as I say. Now come—”
Garret’s office door opened. She glanced that way, caught her breath at the look on his face.
“You are speaking to my wife, sir. And though you are her father, you will do so in a respectful manner, or you will leave my establishment.” The muscle along Garret’s jaw twitched. “With my help, if necessary.”
His voice was quiet, controlled. She stared at him, shocked by the change. She’d seen Garret angry, but never like this.
“You dare to threaten me.” Her father leaned forward, narrowed his eyes. “I can buy this place tomorrow and set you out in that snow!” He jabbed a finger toward the front windows.
“My hotel is not for sale. And neither is my wife.”
Her heart thudded. Garret stood beside her, strong, steady, unmovable. She’d never felt so safe. So—
“She’s not your wife. Except in name only. And even that will not be for long.”
She gasped, jerked her gaze to her father. “How do you know—”
“Millie, of course. She told me everything about this ridiculous situation you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Her father lurched back from the desk, yanked at the lapels on his suit coat. Her heart sank. It
was a thing he did when he was confident he’d won an argument. She squared her shoulders, tried not to give in to her sudden fear. “Millie wouldn’t do that to me. Unless...” Anger constricted her throat. “You threatened her with dismissal! And Thomas as well, no doubt.”
“That’s enough, Virginia. You will pack your things and—”
“Go back to New York and be coerced into marrying Emory Gladen? No, Father. It won’t work. Not now.” She edged closer to Garret, drew strength from his presence. “I’m legally married, if not—if not...otherwise. And you can’t force me to marry Emory or anyone else.”
“I’ve no intention of making you marry Gladen. The man has been caught in some scandalous, not to mention cruel, behavior. He is being prosecuted for his acts.” Her father’s voice modulated. “But this is all coming as a shock to you. You’re becoming hysterical. It would be best if we finish this conversation in the morning. I shall retire now. And I suggest you retire for the evening, as well. I’ll explain my plans for you tomorrow. Good night.” He strode to the stairs and climbed out of sight.
“I see now why you ran away.”
She looked at Garret. His jaw muscle was twitching, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“It will be best if I stay far away from your father.” He turned and walked back into his office.
A horrible emptiness swept through her. She stared at his office door, longed with all her being for him to come out and take her in his arms, to hold her and tell her he loved her. A sob clawed at her throat, pushed upward by the unbearable ache in her heart.
She covered her mouth with her hand, pushed through the door to their sitting room and ran for her bedroom.
* * *
Garret slammed the front door, pulled on his hat and started up the road toward the railroad depot. Would an in-name-only marriage hold up to a challenge in a court of law? He didn’t know. Virginia was young and innocent—so innocent. And her father, no doubt, had a handful of smart, successful New York lawyers who knew how to navigate inside and outside the law in order to win a case. How could he fight them?
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