can’t make me.”
“You don’t have to like me, and I won’t make you. You just have to do as I ask.” She set him down but kept a firm grip on his shoulder.
His face scrunched in puzzlement. “You’re not mad?”
Tess shook her head. “I understand. You want your mama, but she’s gone now. I know you don’t want me here, but you need someone to cook your food, wash your clothes and buy you candy, don’t you?”
“You’ll buy me candy?”
“I will.” Provided Mr. Abbott hired her.
Luke studied her with the same intensity his father had. “Whenever I want?”
“No. Candy is a treat, but you’d get it sometimes.” She released her hold on him.
He sidled over to the chair and stood beside it a moment before sitting down. Tess handed him the sweet, which he promptly stuck in his mouth.
Mr. Abbott hefted a pail in each hand and headed to the back door. She beat him there and held it open for him. His bright blue eyes held a hint of amusement—and something else. Attraction perhaps? Of course not. She must be seeing things.
“I didn’t expect you to stoop to bribery.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t classify it as bribery. I prefer to think of it as a reward for making a good choice.”
“Whatever you call it, it worked.” She warmed at his approval and smiled at his retreating form.
When Mr. Abbott and Mrs. Carter returned, he got the story out of her.
“I kept my eyes peeled, Mr. Abbott, but you know how troublesome your young’un can be. Luke got into a scuffle with the baby. Both of ’em wanted to play with that canvas ball you brung ’em last week. Lila wouldn’t let him have it, so he smacked her. I told him to stand in the corner, but he don’t mind any better than I cook.”
Judging by the deplorable state of the kitchen, cleaning wasn’t one of Mrs. Carter’s strengths, either. Dirty dishes were piled everywhere, chunks of dried food clinging to them. If the house hadn’t been filled with the overpowering stench that had greeted her, Tess would have been able to follow her nose to the kitchen.
Mrs. Carter set Lila on a blanket with a pile of blocks. The little girl seemed content to play with them. “Sorry ’bout the trouble with the salve. I opened all the windows, but I don’t think it done much good.”
Tess wrinkled her nose. “What kind of salve would make it smell like some poor creature died in here?”
Mr. Abbott explained. “My dog has mange. I mixed lard and powdered sulfur, which I’ve been rubbing on him. It doesn’t have much of an odor normally, but it stinks something fierce if it’s burned.”
She laughed. “I’ll say. So, what do we do?”
“I got the stove cleared out. Now we wait for the smell to go away.”
“And the dog?” she asked. “What about him?”
“I’m keeping him in the barn until I get the mange under control. Could be a week or more.”
Mrs. Carter patted Tess’s arm. “I’m awful glad you’re here, young lady. You got a big job ahead of you. The place needs a bit of sprucin’ up, but I done my best. Those young’uns need a firm hand. I spent most of my time chasin’ after Luke. He’s a real handful, that one. Mind you, don’t let him out of your sight.”
Mr. Abbott washed up and donned his frock coat with its row of shiny brass buttons and a black armband to show he was in mourning. How sad that such a handsome man wore a perpetual frown. Perhaps one day she’d be able to make him smile.
“Might I have a word, Miss Grimsby?”
“Yes, sir.” She followed him onto the porch, doing her best to quell the queasiness his request had caused. Had she failed to please him already?
He cleared his throat and ran a finger under his collar. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was as uneasy as she. Surely, in his position, he was practiced in dismissing people.
“I understand you were governess to a number of girls before but only one boy—all of them considerably older than my children. Do you think you’re up to dealing with my son? He can be a challenge at times.”
Luke couldn’t begin to compare with some of the boys at the orphanage. “I am. Does this mean...?”
“What it means is that I’m considering things. Show me what you can accomplish before I get home tonight, and we’ll talk.” He descended two steps, paused and inclined his head toward the house. “You might want to go back inside before Luke springs a surprise on you.”
Tess maintained her composure until she was in the foyer. She lifted her hands to the heavens. Thank You, Lord.
She would set the place to rights, prepare a delicious meal and prove to Mr. Abbott she was the woman for the job. If all went well, she’d have a family to care for at last. It might not be her own, but it was the next best thing.
A shrill whistle signaled the departure of an outbound freight train, relieved of its load and ready for the return trip to Sacramento City. Spencer checked his pocket watch. Right on time, just the way he liked it.
He crossed the platform and went in search of his freight traffic manager, notebook in hand. The sooner he got the statistics on the latest shipments from Peter, the sooner he could update his records and find out how the station was doing.
Processing the cargo quickly and keeping their customers happy would improve their chances of gaining more business and ensure that he could keep his position as long as possible. He’d known ever since taking the newly created Shingle Springs stationmaster position the summer before that the Transcontinental Route to the north would bring about the end of his company’s monopoly, which was why he had a plan that didn’t depend on the railroad.
He located Peter talking with one of his workers. He finished the conversation and ambled over. “Come for the numbers, have you?”
“Are they any good?”
Peter consulted a sheaf of papers. “You’ll be happy with them. But not as happy as when the Sutro Tunnel Act passes. Should be soon from what I hear.”
Handling the many supply shipments needed to construct the six-mile tunnel connecting Nevada’s Comstock’s silver mines would give them plenty of work—for the time being. “Let’s hope we get a fair amount of the business before it’s siphoned off by the CP.”
“Don’t be such a killjoy. They haven’t even reached the summit yet. It’ll take some doing to blast through all that rock. We got us a few good years before our dreams of being rich railroaders die.”
Peter didn’t want to accept the bitter truth. Since Congress had granted the Central Pacific the right to lay track east of California,
