place.
And the judge’s letter had given her an idea for how she just might solve all her problems.
“Well?”
Abigail glanced up at Constance, who was not so patiently waiting for an explanation.
A big grin slowly spread across her face. “I think I may have just found the answer I’ve been looking for.”
* * *
Seth shifted, leaning a shoulder against the train window, trying to get more comfortable. The conductor had assured him the stop for Turnabout wasn’t much farther, thank goodness. He was eager to get started on this new job—the sooner he completed it, the sooner he could finalize the deal on the Michelson property and get on with the rest of his life.
He stretched out his left leg as much as the space allowed. Sitting for such a long time tended to tighten up the muscles around his old injury.
He glanced across the aisle and noticed the boy perched there appeared fascinated by his cane. The lad reminded him of Jamie, at least in appearance—the same dark hair, brown eyes and sturdy build. But that’s where the similarities ended. This boy had that fearless air about him, that buoyant spirit reserved for the very young or very innocent. It was something Jamie no longer seemed to possess.
Losing your parents at such an early age did that to a child. As Seth knew only too well.
The shrill train whistle sounded. Finally!
Seth straightened in his seat as he waited for the train to pull to a stop. Then he grasped his cane, using it to lever himself upright. As expected, he found himself leaning on the silver-topped device more than he liked. Experience told him it would be hours before his cramped muscles eased. But he was used to such inconvenience and wouldn’t let it slow him down.
Grabbing his valise with his free hand, he headed for the exit. As he carefully stepped onto the platform, Seth assessed his surroundings. The depot was a midsized painted structure fronted by a wooden platform with three benches lined against the building. A freight wagon waited at the end of the platform, no doubt ready to take on cargo from the train.
There were people on the platform but it wasn’t crowded—nothing like the bustling throngs he’d waded through when he departed the Philadelphia station.
One person in particular drew a closer look—a young lady in a bright blue dress whose hair was an interesting shade of red. But that wasn’t what had snagged his attention—it was the bright, hopeful look she wore, her air of pent-up excitement, as if she was meeting someone she couldn’t wait to see. A family member? Or a sweetheart?
What would it be like to have someone waiting for him with such happy anticipation?
He impatiently shrugged off that fanciful thought and moved toward the depot. The first order of business was to acquire directions to the hotel. He’d just step inside and ask—
“Excuse me, sir, are you by chance Mr. Seth Reynolds?”
Startled, Seth turned to see the young redheaded woman focusing on a balding gentleman who’d just stepped off the train.
The man she’d addressed gruffly dismissed her. “Sorry, young lady, but you’re mistaken.” With a tip of his hat, he walked away.
The woman sighed and turned back to the train.
Why was she looking for him? She appeared too young to be Judge Madison’s granddaughter. But he must have arranged to have someone meet him. It was both unexpected and unnecessary. But he couldn’t just leave her standing there.
Seth steeled himself to ignore the pain in his leg and took a firm step in her direction. “Excuse me.”
She turned and met his gaze. The impact of her bright blue eyes startled him. A stray curl had escaped the confines of her pins and fallen over her forehead. For just a moment he had the absurd desire to tuck it back in for her.
“Yes?”
Her question brought him back to himself. Taken aback by the undisciplined direction his thoughts had taken yet again, he tugged sharply at one of his cuffs. “I couldn’t help but overhear you just now. I’m Seth Reynolds.”
“Oh.” For a moment, all she did was stare.
Which gave him time to study her. Hair the color of mahogany and blue eyes that held a touch of green. Her clothes were well made but not the height of fashion. She wasn’t a beauty in the traditional sense—her mouth was a little too large, her forehead a bit too broad. But there was something about her...
When the silence drew out, he gave a sardonic smile. “I take it I’m not what you expected.” Was it the cane that had tied her tongue? Had the judge not explained?
His words brought a touch of color to her cheeks. “My apologies. It’s just, Judge Madison said you were a friend of his, so I assumed you’d be nearer his age. But that was silly of me. I’m sure he has friends of all ages. Just look at me.”
Definitely not the man’s granddaughter then. “So, you’re a friend of Judge Madison’s? Did he send you to meet me?”
She waved a hand, smiling as if he’d said something amusing. “Not exactly. But I couldn’t let a friend of the judge’s show up with no one to welcome him. So I’ve been meeting trains ever since I got his letter.”
Was the woman always this chatty?
Then she gave him another friendly smile. “Actually, he’s hired me to help with the renovations at the Rose Palace. You and I will be working together—isn’t that wonderful?”
She delivered that bit of information as if she thought it would make him happy.
It didn’t.
Seth tried to make sense of her words. Did the judge think he couldn’t handle this job alone?
The redhead’s smile faltered slightly—his lack of enthusiasm must have shown on his face.
Before he could say anything, however, she pulled an envelope from her skirt pocket and held it out to him.
“My apologies for springing this on you—Everett says my mouth sometimes gets ahead of my thoughts. Perhaps you should read this letter from Judge Madison before we go any further. I think it will explain matters.”
He accepted the proffered letter, his mind trying to make sense of her convoluted story. Who was Everett and why did he have any relevance to this? “Thank you, Miss...”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, where are my manners? I’m Abigail Fulton.”
“Well, Miss Fulton, if you will excuse me?” He executed a short bow and managed to make it to a nearby bench without leaning on his cane too heavily.
So, Judge Madison had arranged for him to have an assistant. Having someone to help with matters concerning the locals would no doubt be useful. But Seth had always selected his own assistants if he felt he needed one. And this young lady would definitely not have been his choice. She looked like she would be more at home in a Sunday school class than a business office.
Besides, her presence could prove to be a distraction. He glanced her way again. Already she was claiming more of his attention than he usually gave strangers.
Because she was such a chatterbox, of course.
More troubling was the fact that Judge Madison hadn’t mentioned this to him personally. Had he thought Seth lacking in some way? Or did he have some other reason?
Perhaps she was a friend of his granddaughter’s, someone he was attempting to help in some way. He supposed that was the man’s right.
Whatever the reason, Seth decided he could be gracious about it. Judge Madison had always been good