about him that’s seems so honorable.” She wanted to call it vulnerability, but that was ridiculous.
He was also handsome in a severe sort of way, but that wasn’t something she needed to comment on, even to her best friend.
Thankfully, Constance decided to take the conversation on a tangent. “Have you told him yet about you wanting the hotel-manager job?”
“I hinted at it but didn’t come right out and ask. However, I did ask him to teach me the job, and he’s agreed.”
“Well, that’s promising.”
“It is. But I can tell he’s going to need a lot of convincing.”
“You’re smart and a quick study. I’m sure, once he’s worked with you a while, he’ll see how good a job you’d do.”
“I sincerely hope so.” She gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. “Oh, Constance, I think this is something I’d really like to do. Working with the hotel staff, and the guests and everything else that goes with the job.”
“Then I’m certain it’ll all work out. I’ve never known you to fail at anything you’ve set your mind to.”
Abigail sincerely hoped her friend was right. Then she gave Constance’s arm a squeeze. “But enough about me. Tell me, has Calvin asked you to step out with him yet?”
She grinned as Constance began to protest, perhaps a bit too strongly, that there was absolutely nothing between her and Calvin Hendricks. And the rest of their walk was filled with inconsequential conversation.
* * *
When Abigail arrived at the hotel early the next morning, she found the night clerk still there.
“Good morning, Larry. Is Mr. Reynolds about?”
“I ain’t seen hide nor hair of him this morning.” Larry sounded put out, but that wasn’t unusual for the curmudgeonly night clerk. “He told me I was to stay on duty until he relieved me, but I’ve got to get on home now.”
Pleased that she’d made it here ahead of Mr. Reynolds, Abigail gave Larry a bright smile. “You can go on. I’m scheduled to work the desk this morning.”
Larry didn’t wait to be told twice. Almost before she’d finished speaking, he was around the counter and waving goodbye.
Abigail took his place and waited to see what kind of reception she’d get from Mr. Reynolds when he finally made his appearance.
Twenty minutes later he still hadn’t shown up and she was getting worried. Where was the man? Maybe he’d slipped out of his room without Larry noticing. Had he gone over to inspect the progress of the construction work?
Mr. Reynolds struck her as a scrupulously punctual person and she definitely didn’t think he was one to oversleep.
Ruby came down the stairs and Abigail immediately called her over. “Have you seen Mr. Reynolds this morning?”
“No, but I’ve been upstairs getting room three ready for a new guest.”
“Would you please keep an eye on the desk while I check on something?”
Abigail headed for the kitchen, where she found Della peeling potatoes. “Good morning. Have you seen Mr. Reynolds today by any chance?”
Della shook her head as she set down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. “No, I haven’t. He’s not come down for breakfast yet. He didn’t eat much supper last night, either—sent his tray back with hardly a thing touched.”
Next Abigail followed the sound of the hammering and spoke to Mr. Hendricks, who also gave her a negative response. Beginning to really worry, Abigail decided it was time to take more drastic measures.
Abigail learned from Ruby that he’d moved into the first-floor rooms the Crandalls had vacated. She quickly headed for the suite and knocked. She waited several seconds, then knocked again, this time more forcefully.
When she still didn’t get a response, Abigail hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. Had he gone out to run an errand? She could be worried over nothing. But what if he hadn’t?
Then she heard a sound that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
Abigail heard the sound again, a low moan, and knocked harder this time. “Mr. Reynolds, it’s Abigail. Are you all right?”
When she still received no response, she raced back to the front desk to fetch the master key. Propriety be hanged, she was going to find out what was wrong.
Clutching the key, she asked Ruby to join her, then hurried back to his door without waiting to see if she would comply. Abigail shoved the key in the lock, took a deep breath and threw open the door.
It took her a moment to orient herself. The owner’s suite consisted of a sitting room with doors on either side—undoubtedly leading to bedrooms. She stared at the two closed doors for a moment, then heard a sound from the one on her left. Running over, she knocked, then waited a long anxious moment, but the only sound was that of Ruby coming up behind her. Finally, Abigail turned the knob and shoved the door open.
A small cry escaped her lips at the sight that greeted her. Mr. Reynolds lay sprawled on the floor next to the bed.
His complexion had a sickly pallor and his hair was plastered to his scalp by sweat.
“Oh my goodness.” Ruby’s voice held a touch of panic and she backed up a step. “You reckon he caught the same ailment as Miss Norma has?”
“No, of course not. What Norma has isn’t contagious.”
Abigail kneeled beside him. She pulled down his nightshirt to preserve his dignity, but not before she saw the awful scars on his leg. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what pain that must have caused him, but she immediately tamped that down. There were more urgent problems to focus on.
She felt his forehead and as she suspected he was burning up. “Listen carefully,” she told Ruby. “I want you to get Calvin Hendricks so he can help get Mr. Reynolds back in bed. Then run to fetch Dr. Pratt. Ask him to please hurry.”
With a nod, Ruby scurried off as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.
While Abigail waited, she retrieved the washrag and basin from his bedside, then gently applied the damp cloth to his forehead. But her mind couldn’t rid itself of the scars she had seen. No wonder he limped. It was a miracle the man could walk at all.
As she wiped his brow, she noticed a large knot on his forehead. He must have hit his head when he fell.
A moment later Calvin Hendricks came rushing up. “Ruby told me you needed—” He stopped at the threshold and she realized they must make a rather strange tableau. A heartbeat later, though, he came rushing the rest of the way in. “What happened?”
“Mr. Reynolds apparently took a fall. I need help getting him back in bed.”
“Of course.”
Calvin, who was both nimble and strong, managed to get Mr. Reynolds upright with only minimal assistance from her. Once they’d got him back on the bed, Abigail pulled up the sheet to cover him and turned to offer her thanks to Calvin.
“You want me to wait with you until Doc Pratt gets here?”
“No, thank you. Dr. Pratt should be here soon.”
Calvin rubbed the back of his neck. “Leaving you here with him by yourself don’t seem quite right. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay anyway.”
Calvin Hendricks was one of the first people her own age she’d met when she’d arrived in Turnabout, and they’d been friends ever since. At one time she’d had a crush on him, but that