a different sort of man than what she’d expected. For one thing, he was younger than she’d imagined—he looked to be roughly thirty. And unlike the judge, who was so warm and forthcoming in his letters, this man seemed aloof and guarded.
To be fair, though, that might be due to travel weariness. And her announcement had seemed to catch him unawares.
His silver-handled walking stick had at first seemed an affectation. But then she’d noticed the slight stiffness of his gait as he moved to the bench and she’d realized the cane was more than a mere accessory.
Though his expression remained closed as he read the letter, she sensed he was displeased with the news. What was he unhappy about—sharing responsibility for the work, sharing it with a woman, or something else?
When he finally lowered the letter, he seemed lost in thought.
Abigail cleared her throat. “Is there a problem?”
Mr. Reynolds glanced up as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Not at all.” He folded the letter and slid it inside his jacket as he leveraged himself off the bench with his cane. “My apologies. I suppose I’m tired from my travels.”
His expression gave away nothing of his thoughts. Then he met her gaze. “May I ask how you came to know Judge Madison?”
She’d prefer to discuss their assignment, but she supposed it was a logical question. “Of course. We’ve corresponded regularly for going on five years now.”
He raised a brow at that. “Corresponded? So, you’ve never actually met.”
His tone remained neutral but something about his demeanor made her feel defensive. “Not in person, no. I’m looking forward to having that pleasure when he visits in December. But I believe we’ve gotten to know each other quite well in all the ways that matter.”
“I see.” He tugged on the cuff of his jacket. “With your indulgence, we can discuss how best to proceed with this...partnership after I’ve had a chance to freshen up a bit.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’d appreciate it if you could direct me to the hotel.”
He seemed eager to be rid of her. But she had other ideas. “I’ll do better than that. After you make arrangements to have your baggage delivered, I’ll walk you there—it’s on my way.”
“On your way?”
“To the town’s restaurant. My sister-in-law owns and operates it and I promised to help her today.”
A few minutes later, as they walked down the sidewalk, Abigail pointed out the various businesses they passed. The man said very little in response so she did her best to keep the conversation going on her own. She noticed, however, that his gaze seemed to take in everything, so his silence apparently wasn’t due to disinterest.
Perhaps he just wasn’t the talkative type.
Finally, as they approached the hotel, she pointed straight ahead. “The Rose Palace is that red brick building up there.”
She could hear the sounds of construction above the other town noise, but since the work was taking place on the far side it wasn’t visible from their vantage.
She cut him a sideways glance, trying to discern his thoughts as he studied the building, but as before, his expression gave very little away.
When they reached the entrance, he gallantly opened the door and let her precede him. At least there was nothing wrong with his manners.
The curtains were open so the lobby had a cheery, sunshine-filled warmth to it. Abigail smiled—it was as if the place was putting its best face forward for his benefit.
“Can I help you folks?”
The question came from Mr. Crandall, standing at his usual post behind the guest book on the front counter.
Abigail led her companion forward. “Good day, Mr. Crandall. Allow me to introduce Mr. Seth Reynolds, the gentleman Judge Madison sent to oversee the renovations.”
She turned to him. “Mr. Reynolds, this is Edgar Crandall, the former owner of the Rose Palace.”
Mr. Crandall held out his hand. “Welcome to Turnabout and to the Rose Palace. We have a room all ready for you.”
Abigail took that as her cue. “I’m sure you’d like to get settled in, and I need to head to the restaurant. Perhaps we could continue our conversation over a late lunch.” She smiled. “In fact, you could meet me there. It has some of the best food you’ll find in these parts and it’s a short walk from here. Mr. Crandall can direct you.”
He leaned casually against the counter. “Actually, I’d prefer to eat here. I want to get a feel for the quality of the hotel’s current menu offerings.”
Even leaning against the counter, he managed to maintain his all-business air.
“Of course. Shall I return in, say, two hours?”
He nodded. “I look forward to resuming our conversation.”
Now why didn’t she believe that?
Abigail made her exit, trying not to lose heart.
Mr. Reynolds wasn’t the friendly, open person she’d been hoping for. Perhaps after he’d had time to rest from his trip he’d thaw a bit. Otherwise it might be difficult working with him for the next few months.
For all his standoffishness, however, there was something about him she found intriguing. And it wasn’t just that he was handsome, which he was, in a brooding sort of way. There was something she’d seen in those cinnamon-brown eyes of his, something that tugged at her, that spoke of a buried vulnerability behind his guarded attitude. There was his limp, of course, but it went deeper.
One thing was certain, he hadn’t been pleased to learn she’d be working with him. How would he react when she told him she wanted the job of hotel manager?
She’d given it a lot of prayer and thought. In fact, she had thought of little else since she’d received the judge’s letter. She’d even discussed it with Constance, testing the idea with her levelheaded friend.
The thought of managing a hotel on her own was daunting but exciting at the same time. If she could convince Mr. Reynolds and Judge Madison to give her the chance, however, she was absolutely convinced she could do it. After all, Constance had responsibility for the pharmacy and she was the same age.
True, Constance had gone to school back east to train for her position. But it wasn’t as if Abigail hadn’t prepared in her own way. She’d spent every minute she could with Mr. Crandall, getting his insights into what the job entailed and what he saw as the main challenges. And Constance had agreed that she had a way with people that would serve her well in a job like this.
It was just a matter of convincing Mr. Reynolds of her suitability. And surely, if he was anything like Judge Madison, he would keep an open mind on the matter.
* * *
Seth ignored the urge to watch his would-be
