An Unconventional Lady

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An Unconventional Lady Page 4

by Cynthia Hickey


  Annie stifled a sigh. The whole thing sounded too exciting to be true. How she would love a bit of danger in her life. Nothing deadly, of course, but something to get the blood pumping. Something more than helping Mother make beds, or serving customers at the fancy hotel that was seriously affecting her mother’s livelihood.

  “Do you work at the El Tovar?” The woman creased her brow. “It certainly seemed as if you worked at the Rollins place.”

  “My mother owns the boardinghouse next to the canyon, and yes, I work for the Harvey Company.” Until now, it hadn’t registered exactly how odd that might appear to a stranger. She smoothed the fabric of her dress, wishing she’d taken the time to change. But when she’d gotten off work and Dallas and the group hadn’t returned, she’d stood watch on the rim, not thinking at all about changing out of her uniform.

  Once the guests were on the massive hotel porch, Annie lifted her skirts and sprinted home. She couldn’t care less if anyone saw and reported her unladylike behavior to Mother. Soon, Dallas would meet with his family in the parlor, and she didn’t want to miss a thing.

  She barreled through the front door, past the dining room where the Baker family sat, past her mother’s shocked expression, and thundered up the stairs. Before she closed her bedroom door, she heard soft footfalls on the steps.

  “Annette Rollins! Have you lost your mind?” Mother glared down her nose. “We have guests. What will they think of such behavior from a young woman?”

  “That I’m spirited?” She reached behind her for the buttons running down her back.

  “Impertinent. Impetuous. Irresponsible. Take your pick.” Mother moved to help her. “Why such a rush?”

  “Because Dallas’s family is here. He doesn’t seem happy to see them.”

  “You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Annie grinned at her reflection in the mirror. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

  Mother sighed. “You and your zest for adventure will be the death of me.”

  Her uniform puddled around her ankles and she stepped clear of the pile. Grabbing a day dress from a nearby peg, she slipped it over her head while Mother hung up the uniform. Annie supposed she did test her mother’s patience on a regular basis, but God hadn’t created her to sit back while others enjoyed life. If some of her love of adventure could rub off on her mother, life would be much easier.

  Annie removed the pins from what was left of her pompadour and quickly weaved her hair into a braid. The sound of the front door banging alerted her that Dallas had returned. “Come on, Mother.” She whirled and dashed down the stairs, skidding to a halt at the dining room doorway.

  If the men stayed around the table, it would be much easier to eavesdrop without being obvious. She avoided Dallas’s gaze. “May I fetch you gentlemen something to eat? It won’t take but a minute to make up some sandwiches and brew a pot of coffee. And we have lemonade.”

  “That sounds mighty fine, young lady,” the older gentleman said.

  Dallas blew air sharply out of his nose. “Annie, this is my father, Frank Baker, and my brothers, Dalton and Conway.”

  “We’re his older brothers,” Dalton, the one with a mustache, pointed out. “He’s the baby.” He grinned.

  “That’s enough.” Dallas plopped into a chair.

  “I’m pleased to meet you. All of you.” Annie smiled and hurried into the kitchen. She would be able to hear perfectly fine from in there as long as Mother didn’t bang the dishes. She glared as two tin plates fell onto the counter.

  Mother gave a thin smile. “I know exactly what you’re doing, tiptoeing around like a cat. Well, you were brought up better. I will not let you listen in on a private conversation.”

  “Aren’t you in the least bit interested?” Surely if they wanted their talk to be private, they would’ve gone outside. “Perhaps I’ll be able to help them mend their differences.”

  “Meddle in their affairs, more likely.” Mother removed a chunk of butter from the cooler. “You don’t even care for Dallas.”

  Annie paused. She rarely saw their handsome trail guide. She’d been concerned about his late return. That meant she cared for him, correct? But how much? As a friend? Employee? Or did her interest in his life mean something more? She put a hand to her throat. Goodness. She did seem overly concerned about the man, didn’t she?

  Mother filled glasses with fresh squeezed lemonade. “That quieted you.” She carried the tray out of the kitchen.

  Rarely at a loss for words, Annie found herself stumped. She had hardly spent any time with Dallas. How could she be so attracted to him? The idea was inconceivable. They passed in the morning and sometimes in the evening, offering each other nothing more than a “Good morning” or “Have a good evening.” Neither of which were the basis for a relationship. It wasn’t even enough for a friendship.

  What was wrong with her? When had her anger at him for taking away her job turned to appreciation?

  * * *

  “Why are you here?” Dallas straightened and fixed a glare on his father as Mrs. Rollins set glasses of lemonade on the table. He hated gracing her table while dirty from the trail, but the sight of his family sent all thoughts of cleaning to the back of his mind.

  “To bring you home.” Pa grabbed a sandwich off the plate Annie set on the table.

  She gasped and took a step back. Most likely she was wondering how she could take over as trail guide if Dallas left. Remorse burned through him. He wasn’t being fair. There was no need to get petty with her because of his annoyance with his family. He shook his head and stared at the thick ham sandwich in front of him, all appetite gone. “I’m not going back.”

  “Look.” Dalton folded his arms on the table. “We understand your need for independence, but the family stays together. Can’t you lead rich city folk around our own land?”

  “It isn’t the Grand Canyon.”

  “No, it’s the great state of Texas.” Conway pounded the table. “You’re breaking Ma’s heart.”

  Dallas crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, balancing on the back legs. “Ma is the one who encouraged me to come.”

  “That right?” Pa raised an eyebrow. “You’re not joshin’?”

  “No, sir. Ma told me to follow my dream. Where do you think I got the money?”

  “All four legs on the floor.” Mrs. Rollins refilled their lemonade. “Annie, fetch the cake on the counter, please.”

  A couple minutes later, while Dallas still stared at the three other Baker men, Annie plopped a coconut cake in the center of the table. His throat threatened to seize. It looked just like the ones Ma made. He missed her something terrible, but didn’t relish being bossed around by his brothers. Either they took him on as a partner on the ranch or they could run it without him.

  “You’re as stubborn as your ma,” Pa said, shaking his head. “Why’d you feel such a need to go?”

  “I don’t want to be a hired hand. It’s a partner or nothing.”

  “You have to prove yourself, same as we did,” Dalton said. “We all started as cowhands.”

  “I am proving myself.” Dallas lifted his sandwich to his mouth. Old habits died hard and if he wanted a piece of that cake, he needed to eat his supper first. “Just not in the way you think I should.”

  “You lost a mule today, son.” Pa gave a sideways glance at Mrs. Rollins. “Which he’ll pay you back for, ma’am.”

  She nodded and started slicing the cake. “In due time.”

  “He might’ve lost a mule,” Annie said, pulling up another chair, “but according to the folks who were with him, he could’ve lost his life. Or one of theirs. They had nothing but glowing recommendations about your son’s abilities as trail guide. In fact, they intend to spread the word about his abilities.”

  “Young lady, my son sho
uld never have led those people up that trail after a hard rain.”

  Annie lifted her chin. Dallas put a hand over hers to still her. “The paying customers voted. It won’t happen again.”

  “Gentlemen, while this conversation is intriguing, it is personal, and the hour is growing late. May I suggest you check in, either here or at the hotel, and continue in the morning, when everyone is level-headed?” Mrs. Rollins smiled around the room. “Or you may feel free to discuss the issue in the parlor.” She rested a hand on Dallas’s shoulder. “As for this young man’s talents in leading our customers, I believe he did a fine job and is an asset to this establishment. I would hate to see him leave us. Good evening, gentlemen. Dallas, if your family chooses to stay, any available room is open to them. Annie, follow me.”

  She glided from the room, leaving them in silence. His brothers ducked their heads and dug into their slices of cake. Dallas finished his sandwich, then stood. “I’ll show y’all to your rooms and you can settle up in the morning.”

  “I suppose it’s for the best.” Pa stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Think it over, son. Your place on the ranch will always be there. I’ll give your ma your love.”

  “Does that mean I can stay without any argument?” Could it be that easy? He should have stood up for himself years ago.

  “For now.” Pa grinned. “I’m worn-out. Show me where I can rest my weary bones. Your brothers can share a room.”

  By the time Dallas made it to his own room on the third floor, exhaustion weighed him so much he could barely toe off his boots. The pitcher of clear water on the bureau taunted him. There was no way he could slide between Mrs. Rollins’s clean sheets without washing off the dust. He disrobed down to his underclothes.

  Using a rag left folded on the top, he scrubbed his face and arms with water grown cool, his mind running over the day’s and night’s events. It was surprising how Annie had stood up for him against his family. Had he pegged her wrong? Maybe she wasn’t as upset at him as he’d thought. Or maybe...his spirit brightened...being a Harvey Girl was turning Annie into a regular lady.

  One who knew her place in the world and was ready to leave the line between men and women’s roles intact. He dropped the rag into the water. If so, then maybe he could spend a little time dwelling on how pretty she was and how much he enjoyed their greetings in the mornings.

  He pulled back the blankets and lay down. What would she say if he invited her for a picnic on Sunday? They could take things nice and slow, getting to be friends first. After all, she still had over five months of her contract left. Then, if Annie Rollins was the woman God intended to be Dallas’s bride, he’d pack her up and take her home to Ma.

  Chapter 6

  Annie tied her uniform apron around her waist, making sure the bow was as perfect as possible, then hurried down the stairs in hopes the Baker men were still around. Mother had scooted her away before their conversation had been complete. What if she’d missed something important?

  Her hand stilled on the stair banister. Important? What could they possibly have to say that would be important enough for her to hear their private business? She sat on the step. Was she so lonely for news of what went on outside Williams that she had reverted to sticking her nose where it didn’t belong? She clutched her throat. She’d turned into a nosy woman!

  “What in heaven’s name are you doing sitting on the stairs?” Mother bustled by with an armload of napkins to be folded. “If you have time to dawdle before work, you have time to help me.”

  “I’m coming.” She pushed to her feet and followed her mother into the dining room.

  The Baker men sat around the table nursing coffee and exclaiming over mother’s morning pastries. One glance at the clock told Annie time was speeding by and she would be late for work if she didn’t hurry.

  She grabbed a cinnamon roll and poured a cup of coffee. “Good morning, gentlemen.” They seemed less tense. Obviously, they’d settled something the night before.

  Mother hissed from the kitchen door. “Annie.”

  “What?” She moved to her side.

  “We do not eat with our guests.”

  “I’m running late, and I’m sure they won’t mind.” She stood in the doorway and listened to them rave over the rolls. “Mother, I have another idea.”

  Mother sighed. “Of course you do.”

  “You work too hard, and since you’ve found employment for me somewhere else, I’m thinking maybe you should offer only breakfast to your guests, and run a bakery instead of cooking all the meals.” Her mind raced with ideas, but they needed to be discussed with other parties before approaching her mother. “I’m taking a plate of these rolls to the El Tovar. It’s part of my plan.” Annie lifted the tray.

  “What are you prattling on about?” Mother’s hands flew as she folded napkins. The hotel could definitely use a woman of her skill, if she ever gave up the boardinghouse.

  “This is called a bed-and-breakfast boardinghouse for a reason,” Annie explained. “Make it one.”

  “If I don’t serve meals, the guests will buy them from the hotel.” Mother shook her head. “It won’t work.”

  “I’m not finished digging through all the details.” Annie planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Trust me.” She grinned, hefted the tray on her shoulder and left through the back door. She’d find a way of keeping the boardinghouse going if it killed her.

  She pushed through the back entrance to the hotel kitchen and set the tray on the counter. The chef, Richard Swanson, and the hotel manager, Harold Lawrence, were inside, taking a moment to enjoy hot cups of coffee.

  “Gentlemen,” Annie said. “I have a treat to go with that coffee.”

  “What’s this?” Mr. Lawrence peered at the pastries. “Not from the hotel, are they?”

  “No, sir. My mother made them.” Annie folded her hands and took a step back, waiting for the men’s reactions.

  They each bit into one. Mr. Lawrence’s eyes. “Heaven. Your mother, you say?”

  Mr. Swanson took three bites before speaking. “I cannot bake this well. Why did you bring these? To tease me?”

  “No, sir. I have a proposition for the two of you.” Annie grinned. “The hotel is taking away my mother’s business at the boardinghouse. As you can see, she is a wonderful baker. I’m suggesting an arrangement beneficial to both parties. The El Tovar pays my mother to supply pastries for the hotel. She can make different baked items for each meal, as long as an order is given the day before.”

  The men glanced at each other. “I like it,” Mr. Lawrence said. “Very much.”

  “Me, too.” The chef wiped his hands on his apron. “It would give me time to concentrate on the entrées.

  “It’s a deal,” Mr. Lawrence said. “When do we start?”

  Annie chuckled. “I need to approach my mother with the idea. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  “Very well. I will want dinner rolls and pastries for Friday. We will start then.” Mr. Swanson waved his hands. “Now, out of my kitchen. Leave the pastries with me.”

  Her steps light, Annie floated to the lunch counter and started rolling silverware in napkins. She smiled, thinking of her mother doing the same thing. Mother couldn’t help but be pleased when Annie approached her with the final plans. Now, she needed to come up with an idea to actually draw guests to the boardinghouse.

  Of course, Mother charged less than the hotel, but now wouldn’t offer three square meals. The canyon tours were drawing guests for that aspect of the business, but it wasn’t putting folks’ heads on Mother’s fresh pillowcases at night. Annie needed to come up with something the hotel couldn’t offer.

  Something original, like what Fred Harvey did when he saw a need for good food and service along the railroad. Something only Annie and Mother could offer a guest.

 
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that Dottie elbowed her when the breakfast guests crowded into the room. “Wake up. I’m not working this entire counter alone.” Her smile never faltered while she spat out the words.

  Annie slid the unfolded napkins and silverware under the counter, and snapped to attention. It wouldn’t do to daydream while at work. Waitressing might not have been her first choice of employment, but now that she was there, she intended to give it her best. At least until Mother realized that finding a husband would not come as a result of working in the Harvey Company.

  Tame the West, indeed. Annie would like to tame the next man who offered her marriage, with a cast-iron skillet against his hard head. Maybe that was a bit drastic, but unlike several of the other girls, she was not looking for a husband.

  Life had too much to offer a young unmarried woman, and Annie intended to enjoy it all before settling down. Her gaze landed on Dallas, coming through the door. Even if one of the prospects was more pleasing to the eye than a bald eagle soaring over her beloved canyon.

  * * *

  Dallas planted himself on a stool at the lunch counter and watched Annie serve customers while he nursed a cup of coffee and thought over the morning’s conversation with his family. They’d finally agreed to give him a year to get independence out of his system. He shook his head.

  Sure, he loved his family’s ranch, but he would stick to his guns about becoming a partner or not returning. His brothers hadn’t had to prove themselves, so why should he? It wasn’t that he was irresponsible...well, maybe running off the way he had was irresponsible...but sometimes it took a man doing something drastic before his family would listen. Ma understood. Why couldn’t the others?

  “More coffee?” Annie’s question jerked him from his thoughts.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

  “You look like your mind is miles away.”

  “It is.” He folded his arms on the counter. “If anyone can understand my dilemma, it’ll be you. Do you have a moment?”

 

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