there was more to Miss Fulton than he’d initially credited.
Then again, managing a small subscription library and managing the creation of a cohesive design for a major business were two entirely different undertakings on two entirely different scales.
A moment later everyone began taking their seats. It appeared all of them, including the children, sat together along the long row of joined tables, and Seth found himself seated between Miss Fulton and Chance Dawson, the youngest of the four men who’d journeyed here together.
Mitch Parker, who Seth had learned was one of the town’s schoolteachers, stood and gave the blessing over the meal.
When the amens were said, conversation picked up again as the food was passed around the table. Apparently this group believed in keeping things informal.
As he passed the bowl of peas to Miss Fulton, he resumed their conversation about the library. “I see now why you’re anxious to find a new place for your library. We’ll have to decide on a space soon.”
“I’m so glad you agree. Perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
The judge’s granddaughter said something to her from across the table and their conversation ended. Seth took the opportunity to look around.
The group nearly filled up the restaurant. In addition to the four couples and Miss Fulton, an elderly couple, the Peavys, were there. They were apparently the housekeeper and handyman that lived with the Barrs. And there seemed to be kids everywhere, from infants to adolescents. In addition to Miss Fulton’s sister-in-law, Mrs. Parker, the schoolteacher’s wife, was apparently expecting as well. Seth hadn’t been part of a family or even a community gathering of this sort in a very long time.
How would Jamie feel about being a part of a gathering like this? Of course, the boy no doubt took part in large gatherings for the students at his boarding school.
But did they have the same kind of family feel as this?
Throughout the meal, everyone did their best to make him feel comfortable, going out of their way to include him in conversations, explaining some of the references that were foreign to him, asking him questions that showed interest without being too personal.
But he knew himself to be an outsider here. Except when he looked at Miss Fulton. Strange how just glancing her way seemed to anchor him. Perhaps it was because it was she who had met him when he arrived.
When the meal ended, he helped put the restaurant back to rights, then turned to Abigail. “I should get back to the hotel so I can relieve Miss Mills.”
The staff took turns watching the front desk on Sunday mornings so no one person had to miss services every Sunday. Today it had been the maid’s turn.
“And when would you like me to come by and relieve you?”
Miss Fulton apparently took her role as his partner seriously. “This being Sunday, I can cover things until Mr. Scruggs comes by for the night shift. Why don’t you plan to come by tomorrow morning?”
She nodded. “Perhaps we can also discuss what sort of budget I have for the furnishings and fabrics I’ll need to purchase.”
Her question caught him by surprise, though he thought he did a good job of covering it. He was uncomfortable with the idea of giving her a budget to manage on her own. But now was not the time to mention that. He’d begun to feel the effects of a headache.
“Of course. I can work out some preliminary figures based on what Judge Madison and I discussed for the overall project budget. We can discuss how to work things out in that area when I see you tomorrow.”
A few minutes later he stepped outside and headed toward the hotel. The fresh air helped his headache some but he couldn’t shake it completely. Perhaps he should have taken Miss Fulton up on her offer to help this afternoon.
Then he rolled his eyes. He’d never been one to let something as minor as a headache stop him before. Surely he wasn’t letting the intriguing Miss Fulton get to him?
He had too much on the line to let himself be distracted by a sunny smile and spirited personality.
Abigail always enjoyed helping with the cleanup after the Sunday lunches. Being together in the kitchen with the other women, listening to their stories and laughter, had always given her an all-is-right-with-the-world feeling.
If ever a girl needed role models for marital bliss she couldn’t ask for finer examples. She hoped to one day join their ranks. Of course, she first had to find a man to love and be loved by in return.
Would that ever happen for her?
Once the kitchen was set back to rights and the other families made their exits, Daisy gave a tired sigh. She looked at her son and daughter playing with wooden spoons nearby. “I think these two are ready for a nap.” She smiled Abigail’s way as she rubbed her stomach. “And I may just join them.”
“You need help getting them upstairs?” Abigail asked as she untied her apron.
Everett bent over to lift Danielle. “That’s my job.” He tickled the little girl, causing her to erupt in giggles.
Daisy took Wyatt’s hand and Everett slid his arm around her, giving her an affectionate peck on the cheek.
A lump rose in Abigail’s throat as she stared at the blissful family picture they made. Her brother had found his forever love and she’d never seen him so happy and content. Would she ever have that for herself?
Throwing off the poignant mood, she hung up the apron. “It’s a beautiful day and I’m not interested in napping. I think I’ll take a nice long walk.”
With goodbyes quickly said, she headed out, turning toward the Harper home almost without conscious thought. A nice chat with her best friend was just what she needed to clear her mind.
Mr. Reynolds was a puzzle to her. The man could be so formal one moment, then relaxed the next. His interactions with the hotel staff were no-nonsense. Yet today he’d handled Patience’s innocently indelicate question with surprising sensitivity. She’d also sensed being caught performing that kindness had embarrassed him.
Yes, the man was definitely a puzzle.
When she knocked on the Harpers’ door, it was Reverend Harper who answered. “Hello, Abigail.” He pushed open the screen door. “Come on in. Constance is in the parlor.”
“Not anymore.” Constance appeared behind her father’s shoulder.
Abigail smiled a greeting. “I thought I’d enjoy some of this fall sunshine. Care to join me?”
Constance nodded. “Let me fetch my bonnet.”
Ten minutes later they were strolling along the country lane that meandered behind the church. Abigail finally broke the silence. “What did you think of Mr. Reynolds?”
Constance gave her a wry smile. “Based on the five-minute conversation I had with him, he seems a nice enough gent. A little stiff perhaps, but that’s understandable since he’s new here.”
She cut Abigail a sideways look. “The real question is, what do you think of him?”
Abigail gave the question careful consideration. “He’s very business-minded in his approach, but earnest and willing to listen. As far as I can tell, he’s also very good at his job.” Then she waved a hand. “Which isn’t surprising since the judge hired him.”
“But do you like him?”
“I don’t dislike him.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.”
“I’m still trying