Philadelphia
October 1899
“Check and mate.” Seth Reynolds leaned back in his seat, a satisfied grin on his face. It wasn’t often he could defeat his employer and friend.
Judge Arthur Madison raised a brow. “So it is. I must say, after I captured your queen I thought I had you.”
Seth began setting the pieces back on the board. “That was the plan. I’m prepared to sacrifice anything, even my queen, if it ensures a win.”
As the older gentleman helped reset the board, Seth surreptitiously massaged the damaged muscle in his left thigh, a constant reminder of all he lacked in the eyes of the world.
“Speaking of winning,” the judge said without looking up, “how’s the Michelson deal coming along?”
Seth knew the prying question was well-meant, so he didn’t get his back up. “I’ve received an extension on the balance owed until year’s end.”
The judge looked up. “I’d be glad to loan you the money.”
If anyone else had offered, Seth would have rebuffed him soundly. But Arthur Madison wasn’t just anyone else. “I appreciate that, sir, but this is something I must do myself.” Achieving the goal he’d been working toward for over a decade wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t do it on his own.
The judge’s expression shifted. “You’re only in this bind because you took in your nephew last year. That proves all anyone needs to know about your measure as a man.”
Seth brushed aside the words. Taking Jamie in after the death of his sister was simply something family did. No matter how estranged he and his sister were. Besides, his being a man of honor wasn’t what he needed to prove. “Don’t worry, I have the matter well in hand.”
The judge raised a brow but otherwise didn’t pry.
Which was why Seth felt obliged to expand. “This hotel job in Turnabout, Texas, is what will help me finalize the deal. I just need to wrap things up by the end of the year. My bonus, along with hiring the right person to serve as hotel manager, will seal the deal.”
And he would get both done before year’s end.
No matter what it took.
* * *
An hour later, Arthur Madison stood at the window, watching Seth walk away. It was satisfying to see how far the young man had come in the eleven years he’d known him. From a determined but untrained scrapper to a competent man of business. To see him on the road to becoming a business owner in his own right was quite gratifying.
But even though he had the utmost respect for Seth, he also worried about him. He’d long suspected the most crippling scars Seth bore were not the physical ones responsible for his limp. He only knew bits and pieces of Seth’s history, but he’d never doubted what an inherently good person the young man was. Then again, his opinion was colored by the fact that he’d first met Seth when the then eighteen-year-old had saved his life, at considerable risk to his own.
Now it was his turn to save Seth.
Seth’s entire focus was aimed at showing the world he was as good as any man who could walk unhindered. He was driven to the point that he didn’t seem to know how to enjoy what he already had. Someone had to give him a nudge in the right direction before it was too late.
And if he could help a certain young lady in the process, so much the better.
Arthur glanced again at the letter on the corner of his desk. Abigail was the opposite of Seth in many ways—sweet, optimistic and a bit naive—but she was also intelligent, spirited and had a mind of her own. Like Seth, she also needed a bit of a push to set her feet on the right path.
The plan forming in his mind could be described by some as meddlesome. But he’d employed a similar tactic with his granddaughter six years ago. That had worked out even better than he could have hoped. Could success repeat itself? After all, just as with Reggie and Adam, he would merely set the stage. The rest was up to them.
Speaking of setting the stage... He sat, then reached for a pen and paper.
My dear Abigail...
“How is the hunt for a job going?”
Abigail Fulton grimaced as she set her letters and parcel on the pharmacy counter. “I’ve checked with nearly every business here in Turnabout and no one is hiring.”
Constance Harper, her best friend, gave her a look that seemed equal parts sympathy and amusement. “Surely you’re exaggerating. I can’t believe you checked with every business in town. For instance, you never checked with me.”
Just this week, Constance’s long-held dream had come true when Mr. Flaherty had retired and turned over the keys of the apothecary shop to her.
Abigail patted her friend’s hand. “Don’t even think about offering me a job. You can’t afford to hire me, not for a wage that would allow me to move into the boardinghouse.”
Constance gave a reluctant nod then smiled. “Give it time, something will come up.”
“That’s just it—I’m running out of time. I absolutely have to move out of Everett and Daisy’s home by the end of the year.”
Constance’s expression turned skeptical. “Has Everett or Daisy said anything to make you feel unwelcome?”
“No, not at all.” Not yet anyway.
Living with her older brother had been fine when Abigail was fifteen and Everett was single. But she was twenty now and Everett had a wife and two children. Lately, she’d begun to feel she was taking up much-needed