Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 10

  He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and fingers, studying it from several angles.

  Finally she decided the direct approach was best. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s a good start.”

  Not the enthusiastic response she’d hoped for, but at least it wasn’t negative.

  “What else have you selected?”

  She opened one of the catalogs. “For the guest parlor we’ll need brand-new pieces. I’m thinking something along these lines.” She turned the page and pointed. “Similar to this but less elaborate.”

  He studied the chair she’d pointed to and nodded. “Certainly less expensive.”

  She grinned acknowledgement but then changed the subject slightly. “While we’re discussing the parlor, I had an idea of something different we could do to better utilize the space.”

  His face took on a wary, long-suffering expression. “I’m listening.”

  She took a deep breath, determined to do this right. “What if we divided the room in half so that if two of our guests required the use of a parlor at the same time we could accommodate both of them?”

  “That’s all well and good if we should need two smaller rooms, but the point of building a new parlor was to have a more spacious area to offer our guests.” He waved a hand irritably. “Besides which, that part of the construction is nearly complete and it would take additional money to change it now. Not to mention add more time to the project.”

  “I’m not saying that we need to reconstruct the room,” she explained, “and I agree that there may be guests who would wish to reserve the entire space. But I think we can have it both ways.”

  “Miss Fulton, it’s obvious you don’t understand much about construction. It’s much too late in the process to add new rooms now.”

  How dare he talk down to her that way? “That’s not what I’m suggesting.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Please let me finish explaining before you rush to dismiss the idea.”

  His lips tightened, but he nodded for her to continue.

  “I once saw a picture of a large ballroom that could be divided into two rooms by the use of a set of folding panels. These weren’t just any ordinary panels or privacy screens, mind you. Each panel was beautifully engraved so they were nearly a piece of art. And they were tall enough to almost reach the ceiling, insuring not only privacy, but also reducing the amount of sound from the other side. They were hinged together in a manner that allowed them to collapse against each other and be folded away when not in use.”

  She came to her point. “We could build something similar, using wood etched with elegant floral carvings to fit the rest of the decor, so that the parlor could be divided into two rooms should the need arise, yet still open up into one large space when required for a large group.”

  He rubbed his chin, nodding slowly. “I’ve seen something similar myself. It might just work.”

  Resisting the urge to crow in triumph, she tried to keep her expression businesslike. “If you agree, I could furnish it in such a way that the pieces could be functionally divided between the two spaces when the divider is in place. And the only change that need be made to the room itself that would require construction would be to move the door and add a second one.”

  Before he could raise other objections, she added, “From what Mr. Hendricks said yesterday, however, they’re not so far along that it would cause a problem.”

  He raised a brow. “You’ve already talked to Mr. Hendricks about this? Were you that confident I would agree to this?”

  She held his gaze without blinking. “I merely wanted to make certain it could be done with minimal impact before I bothered you with the idea.” She raised a brow. “What do you think? Do you agree it’s worth pursuing?”

  “Let me speak to Walter Hendricks and have him work out firm details, then we’ll talk again.”

  She supposed that would have to do for now.

  Would there ever come a day when he would stop feeling the need to double-check everything she had to say?

  Because even though she knew she wasn’t as experienced as he was, hadn’t she earned some measure of trust by now?

  Chapter Eleven

  Seth gave his head a mental shake. Who was this young woman who could speak of motifs and better space utilization in one breath and pretty fabrics in the next? He’d expected to see frills and furbelows. Instead she brought him innovative ideas about room configurations and elegant furnishings. Perhaps Judge Madison had selected her to do this job for more reason than just friendship.

  “Which brings me to an important point,” she said, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

  Was she not through with her recommendations then? “And what point is that?”

  “Rather than purchasing everything out of catalogs and having the pieces shipped here, I want to use local craftsmen to provide as many of the needed furnishings as possible.”

  Local craftsmen? Did she have any idea how to separate issues of quality from those of friendship?

  But she was already expanding her statement. “Hazel Gleason, the seamstress over at the dress shop, can make the drapes. Chance Dawson is an excellent woodworker and he can carve the panels for the dividers. Mr. Hendricks and his sons, of course, can build the dividers themselves. There are a couple of local folks who are very good artists who could create pieces—sketches and watercolors—for us to hang on the walls. With the right frames—which Chance can fashion—they’ll look exceptional.”

  She waved a hand enthusiastically. “Judge Madison’s granddaughter is a talented photographer and some of her photographs can be strategically placed around the hotel to provide decorative touches.”

  Time to insert a touch of reality into this discussion. “Miss Fulton, using local merchants for perishable goods such as meal ingredients and fresh flowers makes good economic sense. And I’m sure there are some local craftsmen who are quite talented in their own way, but if you’re going to succeed as a businesswoman, you need to learn to put personal feelings behind you and make objective decisions.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps to some extent. But I disagree that one must remove all personal feelings from decision making. Personal feelings and personal relationships are important, especially if they lead to choices that benefit everyone. I would never recommend anyone whose work I didn’t think was of the quality we’re looking for, because I don’t want to let Judge Madison down in any way.”

  He decided she’d have to learn the hard way. “I have some strong reservations about this direction you’re headed in.” He straightened and nodded. “But that being said, Judge Madison did put you in charge of the decor so I won’t try to stand in your way.”

  Her countenance cleared and she gave him a sunny smile. “I appreciate that. As for the direction I’m taking, aside from which craftsmen I’m using, if there is any other aspect of how I’m choosing to furnish and decorate that you have concerns over, I would welcome discussion on the matter. After all, it’s been some time since I was in any sort of fine establishment.”

  Some time? “So you’ve traveled outside of Turnabout?”

  She grinned. “Oh my, yes. In fact, I only moved to Texas six years ago when my brother put down roots here.”

  “Oh, of course. You came with him from Philadelphia.” Strange to think he might have passed her on the street at some point.

  But she shook her head. “I’ve never actually lived in Philadelphia. I attended a boarding school in Boston for most of my life.”

  Ah, so that explained her polish. Still, six years ago she would have been quite young. “Most of your life?”

  She nodded. “My mother passed away when I was five, leaving me with our stepfather and Everett. Everett was eleven years older than me and had already moved out of o
ur home—he and our stepfather didn’t get along. Anyway, he made sure I was well taken care of, even though he couldn’t look after me himself. He sacrificed quite a lot to make certain I had a good upbringing.”

  As he himself was doing for Jamie. It seemed he and Everett Fulton had similar outlooks on bachelors raising youngsters. And it also appeared the experience hadn’t harmed her any. Just one more indication he was doing right by his nephew.

  As if she’d read his thoughts, she continued. “I love my brother dearly and I know he loves me. And I truly appreciate his good intentions and all he sacrificed to make sure I was in a place that was comfortable and safe. He always assured me he would have a place for me with him when I graduated.”

  She paused and he sensed there was something she wasn’t saying, some but that she was mentally tagging onto that statement.

  When she kept silent, he tried a gentle nudge. “And your brother did finally send for you when he settled here.”

  She winced guiltily. “Strictly speaking, Everett didn’t send for me.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Her gaze slid from his and she began fiddling with the narrow strip of lace on her collar, something he’d noticed she did when she was nervous.

  “I was fifteen when I learned Everett had moved to Texas,” she explained. “By that time I’d grown tired of waiting for him to send for me. I figured ten years cooped up in that one place was long enough. It was one thing when he was in Philadelphia, where I might have the opportunity for him to visit from time to time. But with him half the country away, I knew I would be fortunate to even get a visit at Christmastime.”

  She shrugged but he didn’t for one minute believe the gesture was casual.

  “Naturally Everett didn’t see it that way at all. To give him his due, he was trying to establish himself here and start up a newspaper—he hardly had time to bother with having a younger sister underfoot. But I couldn’t see past my own desperation to get away from Miss Haversham’s. The place had begun to feel like a prison, no matter how velvet-lined.” She gave a crooked smile. “I was a bit melodramatic as an adolescent.”

  He hid his own smile. Did she really think she’d left that trait behind?

  She took a deep breath. “So I made the decision that it was time for me to take my fate into my own hands and I set wheels in motion to run away from school and travel here.”

  Had he heard her correctly? He straightened, no longer amused. “On your own?”

  “Not initially,” she said quickly. “I arranged to have a chaperone accompany me. But she got ill halfway into our journey and I had to leave her behind and make the rest of the trip on my own.”

  Did she have any concept of what a terrible chance she’d taken? He shuddered to think of the things that could have befallen an innocent fifteen-year-old girl making such a journey on her own. “That was a very foolhardy thing to do. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

  She met his gaze, her expression defensive. “You sound just like Everett.”

  “My sympathies are solidly with your brother.” No doubt she’d shaved several years off the unfortunate man’s life.

  “Then I suppose you won’t be surprised to hear he threatened to send me right back.”

  “Since you’re still here, it appears you managed to change his mind.”

  She lifted her chin. “I told Everett if he sent me back, I would just run away again.”

  His sympathy for her brother doubled.

  “So he compromised and told me I could stay for a visit. But then he married Daisy, and she helped me convince him that it was better for both me and him if I stayed.” She spread her hands triumphantly. “And there you have it.”

  “Why were you so determined not to go back?”

  Her expression sobered and her gaze slid away from his. “A person is always happiest when surrounded by family, not strangers.”

  “It depends on the family.” The words escaped him before he could call them back.

  He could tell by the look on her face he’d startled her. Mentally scrambling for something else to say in order to stave off her questions, Seth remembered the other half of her statement. “Didn’t you say you’d been at that school for ten years? Surely you made a number of friends in that time?” He couldn’t imagine the always cheery, talk-to-anyone Miss Fulton not making friends wherever she went.

  She shrugged and began fiddling with her collar again. “Perhaps strangers is the wrong word. But I never did get really close to anyone there, certainly not close enough to consider them family.”

  Had she been different as a child?

  “The thing was, Everett wanted me to stay at Miss Haversham’s mainly because he had some foolish notion that only by having me mix with the elite of society and finishing my education there could I be happy.” She shrugged. “He was wrong. It’s not being in a particular social circle that makes a person happy. It’s being with the people you love.”

  Ha! There was no guarantee that being with loved ones would make you happy, either, Seth thought.

  That only worked if they loved you back.

  * * *

  Abigail worried that she’d said too much, had revealed things better left buried. It was time to change the subject. “If you don’t mind me borrowing Darby for an hour or two tomorrow, I’d like to go ahead and move the library. As I said earlier, I want to free up the space in the restaurant as soon as possible.” She would worry about organizing things on this end later.

  Mr. Reynolds nodded. “Since the library will in essence become part of the hotel, I don’t view that as a personal project so much as an extension of the renovations.”

  She was pleasantly surprised by his statement. “Thank you. I’ll make certain it does become a valuable service for the guests here. And don’t worry about the work schedule, I’ll make sure we only tend to it during the hotel’s slower times.”

  “I trust your judgment in that area.”

  The casually offered praise lightened her mood considerably.

  “By the way,” he added, “I thought you should know that I think your selection of Darby was a good one. The lad is a good fit for what we need right now.”

  Yet more praise. Was the man finally ready to admit she had good business sense?

  She decided to press while he was in a friendly mood. “I’m glad you feel that way. I’m hoping he can come on as a permanent desk clerk once we are ready to make staffing decisions.”

  “Please don’t make him any promises. Once we near completion we’ll hire a hotel manager and he will be the one making those decisions, with our input of course.”

  “Or she.”

  He let out a breath. “Miss Fulton, as I said before, the job of hotel manager is best suited for someone with experience in managing people—employees as well as guests. And someone who can also handle any problems that come up, be it with the facility or the merchants we do business with or the town’s officials.”

  She was determined to make him see her as a realistic candidate. “I understand, but I still think I’m up to the challenge. And you did say you’d keep an open mind. Am I to understand that’s no longer true?”

  Mr. Reynolds hesitated a moment. “Actually, there’s a gentleman back in Philadelphia who has the right kind of experience and who I feel would be perfect for this job. And while it’s obvious you have potential, so far you’ve done nothing to make me think you’d be a better candidate. And I believe we owe it to Judge Madison to hire the best person for the job—don’t you?”

  It was not what she wanted to hear. Still, she refused to give up hope. “Of course. But the decision isn’t actually made yet, so I still have time to prove myself, don’t I?”

  He held her gaze without speaking for a long moment. Then he finally shr
ugged. “There’s always the chance that something could change.”

  She nodded in satisfaction, grabbing tightly to that one little kernel of hope. “Then there’s time yet for me to change your mind.”

  “Miss Fulton—”

  She didn’t let him finish whatever negative thing he was about to say. “All I want is a fair chance.”

  She only hoped she could prove herself equal to the challenge.

  * * *

  Seth gave himself a mental shake. He should have come right out and told her the job of hotel manager was already taken. But he hadn’t been able to completely dash her hopes, even though that day would be coming soon.

  He had to admit, she was proving her worthiness for the position more and more each day. And she was also getting under his skin in a way no one ever had before.

  Was it possible he was actually attracted to her? That thought was troubling on a number of levels, the main one being that there was no way he could allow himself to act on that attraction.

  He’d seen the flinch in her expression when he mentioned he had someone else in mind for the job, but to do her justice, she hadn’t crumpled or backed down. In spite of himself, he felt a grudging admiration for her determination.

  If things were different—

  No! He wouldn’t allow himself to finish that thought. Things weren’t different. Life wasn’t fair—that was a lie believed by children and wide-eyed idealists.

  He hadn’t been either for a very long time.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Saturday Seth found himself eating breakfast and lunch alone. In the week that he’d been here, he’d gotten used to sharing his meals with Miss Fulton, using the time to discuss the progress they were making with the hotel and for her to chatter on about her plans.

  Though he’d first thought her cheery prattling an intrusion into his private time, somehow he’d become accustomed to their mealtime conversations to the extent that he now missed it. So after lunch he wandered over to the space they’d allocated for her library. To his surprise, he saw what appeared to be the entire contents of her library scattered about the room.