of several freight men, who viewed her with curiosity and made some less than flattering remarks. Indignation straightened her spine. She wasn’t that much taller than other women. Why must everyone make such a fuss about a few inches?
She lifted her chin and gave the workers the impassive look she’d practiced in the mirror until she’d perfected it. Once she had, she’d pasted it on whenever the sharp-tongued orphanage director maligned her, unwilling to let him see her pain. Nearly nine years had passed, but the recollection of Mr. Grimsby’s cutting remarks left a bitter taste in her mouth. Thank the Lord she’d been able to leave the orphanage the day she turned sixteen, having secured a position caring for the children of a family heading West.
“At least you and Spencer will see eye to eye.” Peter chuckled at his play on words but quickly sobered. “And speaking of him, I’d better get back to work. I’ll have one of the boys deliver your trunks to the hotel.” He doffed his hat and returned to his duties.
Standing on the platform in front of the depot, Tess surveyed the small town. Shingle Springs sat at the foot of the majestic Sierra Nevada mountain range, which rose up to meet the cloudless sky. The steady stream of wagons headed east had dug deep ruts in the wide main street. Most of the businesses and houses lining it were made of wood, but an impressive stone building on the south side stood out.
She crossed the street and made her way to the Planter’s House hotel, a two-story white clapboard building with a balcony that shaded the porch below. With the temperature approaching triple digits, she would welcome getting out of the early afternoon sun.
A glance at the watch pinned to her bodice caused her to move quickly. She’d have just enough time to change and dab on some rosewater to mask the lingering smell of the ashes and soot that had rained on her. Not that a railroad man like Mr. Abbott would notice the smoky scent.
From what Polly had written, he’d become so preoccupied since his wife’s passing he could barely get himself to the depot on time. Once there, all he had time for was work—to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. Tess understood. Grief could immobilize a person. How many times had she seen newly orphaned children go through their days as though encased in a fog?
If all went well, she’d soon be caring for Mr. Abbott’s two little ones and helping them deal with the loss of their mother. She looked forward to easing their father’s burden and helping him cope with his grief, too.
* * *
“If you’ll step inside, Mr. Drake would be happy to send a telegram for you.” Spencer Abbott directed the elderly couple to his ticket agent’s cage and resumed his perusal of the platform.
Other than the new baggage handler’s mishap, things had gone smoothly that morning. Spencer had been able to eat the meager pickings in his dinner pail in peace while rereading the letters Tess Grimsby had sent.
Although she had glowing recommendations from two of the families she’d served, her most recent employer had dismissed her. From what Spencer could tell, the banker had no complaints about her work but had taken issue with her personality. Such things happened. Spencer knew that from experience. But a trait one employer disliked another might value. He believed in giving a person the opportunity to prove what he—or she—could do. Most people showed their true colors fairly quickly.
What troubled him more than Miss Grimsby’s employment history was his reaction to her. When she’d stood and he’d looked into her eyes, speech had eluded him. Rarely had he encountered a woman that tall. She must be at least six foot, although with her hat the size of Texas, she appeared even taller.
While her height had come as a surprise, what had captivated him was the compassion in her warm brown eyes. Clearly she was a caring person. Rather than rail about the young man who’d almost barreled into her, she’d defended him and shown him kindness, which spoke well of her character. A woman like her should be able to take Luke’s antics in stride.
What had kept Spencer riveted to her had nothing to do with her personality, though. He hated to admit it, but the reason he’d gawked at her like some smitten schoolboy had everything to do with her lovely features, from her delicately arched brows and high cheekbones to her rosy lips lifted in that mesmerizing smile. She was the first woman to capture his attention since he’d lost—
Focus, Abbott. He had no business thinking about another woman. Trudy had only been gone three short months. He was a widower in mourning who’d loved his wife, not a man in search of someone to take her place. Not that anyone could. She’d held a special place in his heart and always would. It must have been loneliness that led his eyes to stray, that’s all.
Well, he was master of his emotions. When Tess Grimsby returned, she’d see a man in control of himself. If he chose to hire her as his housekeeper, he would keep things strictly professional.
* * *
Tess emerged from the hotel wearing her favorite dress, a cobalt-blue calico that matched the three peacock feathers atop her hat. She tugged on her gloves, crossed the busy street and strolled alongside the tracks until she came to the railway station.
The depot was a hive of activity as men prepared for a freight train’s arrival. Drivers seated on sturdy wagons waited for their cargo in front of three warehouses east of the station. Horses whickered and shook their heads to rid themselves of the ever-present flies.
Although the platform was large, the wooden building at the heart of the action was small. Somewhere inside sat the man who would determine her future. Mr. Abbott must hire her. If he didn’t, she’d be forced to return to Sacramento City and pray she found another position before the last of the money in her reticule was gone.
She shook the small handbag dangling from her wrist, the jingle of the few coins inside lacking the reassurance she sought. While Polly had said she and Peter would welcome Tess, she couldn’t impose on them, not when they were expecting a second child soon.
Given her recent dismissal, Tess hadn’t been able to secure another governess position in the city, despite spending two weeks searching for one. Polly’s letter with news of Mr. Abbott’s need had been most fortuitous. If he hired her as his housekeeper and her work pleased him, she’d be able to restore her reputation and replenish her depleted savings.
A bell tinkled as she entered the depot. The man in the ticket cage peered at her through the wrought iron grate and smiled. “Good morning, ma’am. May I help you?”
“I’m Tess Grimsby here to see Mr. Abbott. He’s expecting me.”
The ticket agent nodded. “Welcome, Miss Grimsby. I’m Mr. Drake. I’ll let you in.”
She waited at the door he’d indicated. It opened, and he pointed out another on her right. She paused and said a silent prayer.
“Don’t be scared. He doesn’t bite...often.”
She wasn’t afraid of Mr. Abbott, but she was concerned about her reaction to the appealing gentleman. Despite his rumpled frock coat and limp collar, it could be all too easy to cast admiring glances his way, and that would never do. She must act like the professional she was and keep her goal of being hired first and foremost. “Me? Scared? He’s the one who ought to be. Men have been known to run from me.”
Mr. Drake chuckled, the curled ends of his heavily waxed handlebar moustache dancing. “You’ve got spunk. That’s good. You’ll need it if you’re to work for him. He’s a fine boss, but he can be a mite intimidating on his
