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.
In the meantime, she’d learn what she could about the hotel—perhaps she’d write a piece for the Gazette about the history of the establishment and the renovations taking 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
