that’s wonderful.” Constance’s smile faded. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course. They’re wonderful parents and have enough love to encompass a houseful of children.” Abigail sighed and leaned her elbows on the counter. “But I can’t justify taking up a room in their home any longer.”
Constance frowned thoughtfully. “Actually, I’d think having you around to help would be more important than ever now.”
Daisy ran the local restaurant and Everett produced the town’s newspaper. Abigail helped out where she could, which was her way of repaying their kindness to her.
“I’ll still help when I’m needed, of course. But it’s past time I get out on my own and gave them the space they need. I just need to prove to someone that I’d make a good employee.”
“Of course you would.” Constance sounded almost indignant.
It was easy for her friend to feel that way—she had an important job and was a respected businesswoman.
“After all,” Constance added, “You’ve been running the town’s only library since you were fifteen years old.”
Abigail waved a hand dismissively. “It barely makes pin money, certainly not enough to allow me to support myself.” Then she fingered her collar. “Actually, there is a job coming available that would meet my needs.”
Constance eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t sound happy about it, whatever it is.”
“I ran into Hilda Burns earlier. Seems she and Joseph Melton are engaged. And they’re planning a Christmas Eve wedding. Which means, come mid-December, Mrs. Ortolon will be looking to hire someone new.”
Hilda’s job consisted mainly of cleaning and cooking at the boardinghouse and using her “free time” to run errands for Mrs. Ortolon. Not only was the work near-drudgery, but it was common knowledge what a hard-to-please employer Mrs. Ortolon could be.
Constance apparently sensed something of her feelings because she touched her arm sympathetically. “You don’t have to decide immediately. You have two and a half months to find something else. Think of it as a last resort.” She paused a moment. “When is the baby due?”
“February.” Abigail lifted her chin. “All right, I either find something else, or the boardinghouse job it is.” She firmly believed there was always a way if one looked hard enough. She need only convince one local businessman she could bring something to his business he hadn’t realized he needed. It would take a bit of imagination, but she was convinced she could find her niche if she just looked hard enough.
Time to change the subject. She touched the parcel she’d set on the counter. “I have something here from Judge Madison.”
Constance shook her head. “It’s beyond me what you two can have to say to each other. I can’t think of a thing you have in common.”
Abigail grinned. “I’ll have you know we enjoy a very lively correspondence on a wide variety of subjects.”
She’d first written to Judge Madison when she learned how he’d given her brother his second chance, a chance that brought him to Turnabout. She’d wanted to thank him, tell him how well it had turned out, and let him know it had given her a fresh start as well.
To her surprise, he’d written back and they’d enjoyed a regular correspondence ever since. She found him charming, intelligent and quite intriguing. Even though they’d never met face-to-face, he’d become like the grandfather she’d never had. And her letters to him had become almost like entries in a diary, sharing hopes and dreams she didn’t tell anyone else.
“It looks like it contains a book of some sort,” Constance observed.
Abigail frowned. It wasn’t unusual for Judge Madison to send her books. In fact, ever since he’d learned about her subscription library he’d periodically sent books from his personal collection. But in her last letter she’d asked him not to send her any more—she simply didn’t have room for them. Had he forgotten? Or simply not believed her?
“Let’s see.” She opened the parcel and her breath caught. It was a copy of Birds of America by John James Audubon. “Oh, Constance, look.” She stroked the cover, anticipating the beauty of the images inside. Perhaps she could find room for one more book...
It took her a moment to notice there were also two letters in the parcel. The first had her name on it, the second had the name Seth.
“Who’s Seth?” Constance asked.
“I have no idea.” Curious, she set aside the book and second envelope, then quickly unfolded the one with her name.
My Dear Abigail,
I will dispense with the normal pleasantries because I have a business proposition for you and I want to get right to it. As you know, I invest in properties from time to time. I recently became aware that the Rose Palace Hotel was on the market. So yes, I have bought the place.
She looked up at her friend. “He’s bought the Rose Palace from Mr. Crandall.”
“I didn’t even know it was for sale. Mr. Crandall must be planning to accompany his sister to Chicago when she goes to the hospital there.”
Abigail nodded and turned back to the letter.
The current owner is already in the midst of enlarging the facility, which suits my needs. I have noted the growth Turnabout has undergone in recent years and I believe this will be a good investment. I am sending Seth Reynolds, an acquaintance of mine, to oversee the remainder of the work.
Abigail glanced at the second envelope. That must be who this was for. But why send it to her?
Here is where my offer comes in. I want to hire you to take charge of the decor, matters such as paint colors, wallpaper, curtains and the like. I would also like you to assist in the interviewing and hiring of new staff. I’m sure your familiarity with the local citizenry will prove invaluable.
In return, I am willing to provide you with something that will solve a problem you are facing. You mentioned that your library had outgrown its space in your sister-in-law’s restaurant. So, as payment for your assistance, I will allocate a room on the hotel’s ground floor to permanently house your library, free of charge.
I have not yet mentioned your involvement to Mr. Reynolds since I was unsure of your response. If you agree, please give him the enclosed note when he arrives as it will explain matters to him. If you decide to decline, simply send me a wire saying so and there will be no hard feelings.
I don’t know the exact date of Mr. Reynolds’s arrival, but it should be within a few days of your receipt of this letter. He has one small task to complete for me and then will head your way.
On a side note, I have decided to spend Christmas in Turnabout with my granddaughter and great-grandchildren. I look forward to finally meeting you in person.
So much good news, it was hard to take it all in.
She would have willingly helped the judge for free. But to have a new place to house her library was exciting!
And she was finally going to be able to be of service to the man who had done so much for her family.
And she’d also have the opportunity to meet him in person when he came for Christmas.
To know that he trusted her to handle the furnishings and decor of his hotel was gratifying. It was a big responsibility but she was absolutely determined to do him proud. Besides, it would be fun. She was already thinking of possibilities.
And then there was Mr. Reynolds. If he was anything like the judge himself, it would be a privilege to work with him.
Since Mr. Reynolds’s arrival date was uncertain, she’d make sure to meet every train coming from that direction until he arrived—the man deserved to be greeted properly.
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