“It was,” she admitted. “I’m not sorry we did it, but I do wish we hadn’t been caught.”
He reached out and tangled his fingers with hers. “I’ll come by on my next evening off, and we’ll find a way to make it work. We could stroll down by the river, maybe. Get away from the people and the commotion that surrounds both of us.”
“I’d like that. I’d like it a lot.” Caroline took a step closer. “When is your next day off?”
“Not until Saturday, I’m afraid. But I promise to come in every time I pass through Topeka in the meantime.”
“All right.” Her voice was smaller than she meant it to be.
Wallace laughed. “Do you remember how just the other day, I practically had to beg you to consider allowing me to court you? And now, I could be wrong, but are you disappointed that I’m leaving?”
Caroline smiled and looked down at the rug. “I remember. And you’re right.”
“What changed your mind? Was it my dashing good looks or my charming personality?”
“A little of both. I think it was mostly your heart, though. You have a wonderful heart.”
He caught her other hand as well and brought them both up to his chest. “It belongs entirely to you.”
Just then, they heard the whistle of the train, and he laughed. “My engineer gets impatient sometimes. And he’s right—I need to go. But here.” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a small book. “Keep this until Saturday.”
“Shakespeare’s sonnets?”
“Every last one. I’ve marked my favorites. I’m curious to see if they’re your favorites too.” He leaned forward and gave her another quick kiss. “Listen, Caroline. Unless I’ve counted incorrectly, you now have seven waitresses. They’re all hard workers, and they’re dedicated to doing their best for the hotel. Is it possible that you might be ready to step away, to leave the hotel behind and marry me?” He held up a finger. “Don’t answer me just yet. I want you to think about it, and when I do propose, I want it to be much more romantic and less hurried. But be thinking about it.” And then he was gone, leaving her breathless, clutching the small book, and wondering how this was all happening so fast.
Chapter Thirteen
Caroline crept into Agatha’s room, where Elizabeth sat next to the bed, holding a sleeping Rose. She’d wanted to come upstairs the minute she’d arrived at the hotel, but there were so many things vying for her attention, it had been impossible. Now she could take the time she wanted without feeling rushed.
“How is she?”
Elizabeth looked up, her face streaked with tears. “I don’t think she’s here anymore. She’s still breathing, but a little while ago, I felt something odd, like her essence was drifting out of her body. She stopped swallowing anything yesterday afternoon. I believe we’re going to lose her soon.”
Caroline took the other chair and reached out to clasp Agatha’s hand where it lay on the bedspread. It felt paper thin. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. You’ve been blessed with a wonderful mother, and I wish you could keep her longer.”
Rose stirred and whimpered just then, but soothed back down.
“How is she doing?” Caroline nodded toward the baby.
“Still fussy, as you just saw. Adam’s nearly beside himself—he wants to help so badly, but Rose only wants me. Thank goodness Olivia’s been here to help out, and she was telling me this morning that Emma seems to be learning quickly. I feel bad that so many others have had to work harder on my account.”
“Well, don’t feel bad any longer. We just had a new girl come in, and Adam and I both think she’ll work out well. The unfortunate thing is that she’s the sister of Rachel’s fiancé who was killed.”
“Oh, no. Poor Rachel.”
“Yes, indeed. She took it rather hard. I’ll go speak with her in a bit, but I couldn’t let another minute go by without checking on you.” Caroline patted Agatha’s hand and laid it back on the bed. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“As I keep reminding myself, no one can live forever, and my mother has had a full life.” Elizabeth paused. “I heard back from my oldest brother. He says he’s not likely to come, and that I shouldn’t be surprised if none of the others do either.”
Caroline was shocked. What would cause that kind of rift in a family? “Did he say why?”
“He didn’t. It was a very short telegram. I’m sad they won’t come, but it’s just been me and Mother for so long, it’s all right if they’re not here. They would almost feel like intruders.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sorry.” How sad that even something as monumental as death couldn’t heal this chasm in Elizabeth’s family. Caroline wished she held some sort of power that could mend it. She could do something, though—she could make sure this girl always felt welcomed by her.
***
Caroline climbed the stairs to the girls’ attic dormitory, where Rachel sat by herself staring out the dormer window. “May I come in?” she asked.
“Of course.” Rachel turned from the window and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was completely inappropriate today. I should have done my job.”
“Believe it or not, I understand.” Caroline walked across the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the window. “It must have been hard, seeing your fiancé’s family like that. It was rather sudden, and I’m sure it was a shock.”
“It was.” Rachel twisted her fingers together. “I thought I’d moved past it and that I was doing rather well, but now my heart feels broken all over again.”
“Will it be hard for you with Giselle working here?”
Rachel shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It was just that initial meeting. And it was more Nicholas than Giselle who upset me—he looks a lot like Daniel. My fiancé.” She looked up, a brave smile pasted on her face. “Thank you for thinking of me, but I’ll be all right.”
“I’m glad. I’m quite pleased to offer her a job, and I’m relieved that it will work out.”
“How do you know her?” Rachel asked.
“We met on the train under rather exciting circumstances.” Caroline almost told her the story, but changed her mind. Better to tell it once than over and over again. “Gather the girls up here tonight, and I’ll tell you all what happened. We had a bit of an adventure today.”
***
Caroline kept the girls up far too late telling them the story of Wallace’s daring rescue. They had been transfixed as she spoke, and sighed with contentment at the conclusion. They were usually the ones with stories to share—she was glad to finally be making a contribution, even though she wished it had never happened.
“So, you and Mr. Dupree . . .” Sarah leaned forward a little. “Do you think you’ll marry him?”
“I think we may be heading that direction,” Caroline answered. She didn’t want to be too definite in her reply. She’d been thinking about Wallace’s unofficial proposal all day, but she was no closer to an answer than she’d been in the first place. She’d wanted to talk to Elizabeth, but Elizabeth had her own worries right now.
“I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Him, clinging to the roof of the train car. You, down below, utterly helpless,” Giselle said, her eyes shining.
“I think the most romantic part was Giselle’s brother climbing up to help,” Emma chimed in. “He didn’t have anything to gain from it—he just leaped right in. And he’s so handsome.”
Caroline noticed Rachel look away. “I think it’s time for bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m completely worn out.”
“Good night, Miss Hampton,” the girls chorused as she made her way down the stairs.
Nicholas’s actions had certainly been daring, but it wasn’t Nicholas who had left her heart thumping. Caroline smiled as she climbed into bed with the book of poetry. She’d read a few verses of Wallace’s favorites before going to sleep. Maybe that would help her come to a decision—seeing into his heart was always a beautiful thing.
She must
have become more absorbed in her reading than she realized. When a light tap sounded on her door sometime later, she came back to the present with a start and set aside her book to find Adam standing in the darkness of the hall in his robe.
“Agatha just passed,” he whispered.
Caroline closed her eyes for a moment, combating the wave of sorrow that washed over her, then turned and grabbed her own robe from off the chair. Stepping softly so she wouldn’t disturb the hotel guests, she followed him down the hall.
Elizabeth sat next to the bed, clutching her mother’s hand, sobbing as though her heart would break. Caroline glanced at the cradle—Rose was asleep, thank goodness, allowing her mother this moment to grieve.
Without saying a word, Caroline moved the other chair next to Elizabeth, sat, and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders, letting her know she was not alone. There they sat for the better part of an hour, Elizabeth’s sobs growing fewer and fewer until finally, she was calm.
“I didn’t expect it to hurt so much,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“I don’t think anyone knows what to expect.” Caroline thought back to when her sister had died. That pain had been tucked away in her soul as though locked in a closet. She had pushed it all inside as soon as it happened, not willing to feel every nuance of the loss, and she’d only cracked the door open once or twice. It was too much to bear, and she didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.
Elizabeth took a long, ragged breath. “Thank you for being here, Caroline. There’s really nothing we can do until morning, so let’s try to get a few hours of sleep.”
“Will you be able to sleep?” Caroline asked.
“I supposed we’ll just have to see.” Elizabeth managed a slight smile. “Good night.”
Adam lifted the baby’s cradle and carefully maneuvered it from the room.
“Do you think he’ll get it all the way downstairs without waking her?” Caroline asked, somewhat amused.
“We’ll just have to see about that as well.” Elizabeth stood, picked up the blanket that was draped across the foot of the bed, and spread it out over her mother, lifting it to cover her face. “Good night, Mother, and good-bye.”
Chapter Fourteen
Everyone did their jobs the next day as though moving through a cloud. Dr. Wayment made the arrangements to have Agatha’s body transported, and that was handled before the train came in. Caroline didn’t know if the passengers sensed the pall that had fallen over the hotel, but all the waitresses were more solemn than usual, seldom smiling. If this were any other day, she’d be pulling them aside and lecturing them on being friendly to the customers, but on this day, she wouldn’t expect them to pretend. She kept checking the time, wishing the afternoon train could somehow arrive early. She needed to talk to Wallace, to feel his strength.
Tom came into the kitchen after the first service, shaking his head. “Mildred has stopped giving milk.”
Caroline looked up from her bread dough in exasperation. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me. She’s the orneriest cow I’ve ever met.”
Tom quirked an eyebrow. “Did you meet many cows in New York, Miss Hampton?”
“There are plenty of cows in New York. The state isn’t entirely big cities, you know—there are plenty of farming communities. So, when did she stop producing?”
“I was able to milk her yesterday morning and got about half her usual yield, and she hasn’t given anything since.”
Caroline threw a clean dishtowel over her bread dough and wiped her hands. “All right, I’ll have a talk with her.”
Tom chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, Miss Hampton, because I’m a big believer in your ability to talk anyone into anything, but I’m not sure that’s going to work.”
“And I feel sorry for anyone—or any creature—who doesn’t listen to me today. I’m in no mood to be trifled with.” Caroline went outside through the kitchen door and strode across the lawn until she reached the barn. Mildred stood in the corner, chewing her cud, looking as insolent as a cow has ever looked.
“Has she spent any time outside?” she asked Tom, who had followed her.
“Yes, I bring her out quite a bit.”
Caroline nodded. “All right. Well, I see that she’s got plenty of food and water. What else does she need? How about a stern lecture?” She moved until she was right in front of the cow. “Mildred, look at me. Look me in the eye. It’s time for you to start giving milk again. This kind of behavior is completely unacceptable. You’ve been fed, you’ve been watered, you’ve been taken for walks—frankly, you’ve been given more attention than I think you deserve. The least you could do is repay the favor with some milk. If you were a very good girl, you could even make it extra creamy, but I don’t hold out much hope for that. Now, give Tom some milk, and let’s put an end to this ridiculousness.”
She straightened and nodded at Tom. “We’ll see if she can listen to reason.”
Tom leaned against the barn wall. “I’m impressed, Miss Hampton. Isn’t there anything you won’t do? Anything that intimidates you?”
“Hmmm.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “I would never try to turn a stampede.”
He chuckled. “Okay. We’ll make sure you never have to.”
When she heard the train whistle a moment later, her heart gave a thud. “Excuse me, Tom. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then she picked up her skirts and ran.
***
Wallace was pleased to see Caroline waiting for him on the train platform. However, as he stepped down to greet her, he saw that she was upset, and he hadn’t anticipated that at all. “What’s the matter?” he asked before he had even properly said hello.
“Agatha passed away last night.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Let me get things squared away here and I’ll be right over, all right?”
She nodded. He longed to take her in his arms right then and there, to help her bear her sorrow, but it wasn’t the right time. In a moment, when his job was done, and when they could talk alone.
He didn’t dare hope that she’d had time to think about his proposal. The day before had been so chaotic, even finding time to think had been an impossibility. Still, he wondered if it had crossed her mind at all in the middle of her duties, and if she’d thought about him while falling asleep. He had certainly thought of her—there was precious little else to do in his boardinghouse room in Kansas City, and he’d given her the only book he’d brought with him.
He’d amused himself for several minutes thinking about how he would fix up his house. Remembering the conversation Caroline had with Mrs. Hanks about curtains, he’d make sure to take her to the general store right away so she could choose whatever fabric she wanted. Then he’d see about adding a room onto the back, and maybe digging up the side yard for a garden. He’d fallen asleep wondering if she’d prefer vegetables or flowers, or maybe a combination.
Now, as he guided his passengers in their various directions, he found it hard to concentrate on his job. He knew how much Caroline had cared about Mrs. Early, and he also imagined she was grieving on Elizabeth’s account too. At times like these, there was nothing that could be said or done. One could only be there, and he wanted to be there right that minute.
Finally, he walked into the hotel, and Caroline caught his sleeve and pulled him into Mr. Brody’s office, where she buried herself in his arms. “I told Adam we’d be in here,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
“Good idea,” he replied, stroking the back of her head. He stood there, holding her, until she stepped away and wiped her eyes. “Are you all right? And I’m sorry I’m so dusty.”
“No, you’re fine. I’m glad to see you, and I would be even if you were as dirty as a coal miner.” She sat down and motioned for him to take the seat next to her, which he did willingly.
“When is the funeral?” he asked.
“The day after tomorrow. The girls came up with a plan. We’ll make up a bunch of sand
wiches for the train passengers, and Emma and Giselle will sell them. They volunteered, since they didn’t know Agatha, and wanted the rest of us to be free for the funeral. Isn’t that thoughtful?”
“That’s very kind of them.” Wallace reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”
“Just being here means the world to me.”
“I wish I could stay the rest of the day, but I have to see this train back to Wichita.”
“I know. It’s unrealistic of me to expect anything less—you have a job, a commitment. And that’s one of the things I admire about you—your dedication.”
“You admire me?” His mustache twitched.
“I do. And it grows the more I get to know you.”
Wallace lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Perhaps the girls could make me a sandwich too, and I’ll eat it on the train. I don’t want to waste a single second away from you today, and eating in the dining room when I could be in here definitely feels like a waste.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Wallace. You don’t know how much you mean to me right now.”
“I’d like to hope I do,” he replied, kissing her hand again.
***
Needing something to do to keep herself from going mad, Caroline threw herself into preparations for the funeral, baking bread for the sandwiches and cakes for the after-funeral meal. Whenever her hands fell still, her heart began to ache, so it was best if she kept herself busy. Adam noticed the pace at which she was working and spoke to her about it, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t slow down. She was the manager of the hotel, and as such, she had certain tasks to fulfill and a calm image to present to the public. If she were to burst into tears or have some other sudden display of emotion, she wouldn’t be doing her job, and her job was what held her together.
Wallace’s face kept drifting through her mind, and the feel of Wallace’s arms, and the touch of Wallace’s lips. But she couldn’t think about him right now. He was a distraction, although a very welcome one, and she had to be ready for the day of the funeral.
The Whisper of Morning (Kansas Crossroads Book 6) Page 9
