stared at her for a moment and then said, “We can talk about it after the Fourth of July Ball.” He led her out of the ballroom and down the hall toward the kitchen.
As she made notes about the peeling wallpaper and the cracked glass in the back door, she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter tucked inside her trunk. What did she really know about Mr. Allen? Her father must have trusted him...shouldn’t that be good enough for her?
“How did you and my father come to be partners?”
He showed her the back staircase that led to the upper rooms. “I met Clarence when he first came to town working for the Little Falls Company as a carpenter. The company was started by Abram Cooper and two other men to establish Little Falls. They construct buildings, build roads, operate the mills and sell property. I owned the American Hotel—what’s now the Batters House—and Clarence lived there. He told me he had always wanted to go into the hotel business, so when I sold the American to buy the Northern, I asked if he was interested in becoming partners.”
“How long were you partners?”
“Two years.” He climbed to the top of the back stairs and stood to the side to let her pass in front of him into the hallway near her bedroom. “Your father was a good man and I was sad to see him go.”
She bit her bottom lip as she listened to him speak. He seemed truly genuine. If her father had been in business with him for two years, and still felt it safe enough to send for her and her sisters, shouldn’t that be enough for her to trust Jude? It would have to be. She couldn’t walk around suspicious of his every move.
“We have twenty-four guest rooms in all,” Jude said as he opened the one across the hall from hers. It was currently unoccupied. “There is a bed, a bureau and a rocking chair in each room.” He closed the door and stepped across the hall to open another. A set of stairs led up to the third floor. “It’s a large, single room under the rafters. Martha and Violet sleep there. If you’d like to see it, you can ask Martha to show you.”
Elizabeth wrote more notes. The guest room drapes needed to be cleaned and the quilt on the bed needed to be patched. She looked up and found Jude trying to see what she wrote. She tilted the list up. “Where does Pascal sleep?”
“In the barn loft. He takes the overnight shift at the front desk, so he sleeps during the day.” Jude took the back stairs down to the main level. “I’ll show you the barn. We have one of the best in town. Some of the local men rent space from us to house their animals. For a small fee, Pascal feeds them and mucks out the stalls.” Jude pushed open the back door. “We also own twenty-five acres of cornfields, so I keep our tools and equipment in the barn, as well.”
She paused. “Cornfields?”
“On the outskirts of town.” He held the door open for her. “There are several business owners in town who have wheat and cornfields to earn a little extra income and provide for the community. It brings in much-needed money to pay for a couple months of mortgage over the winter when business is slow.”
She scribbled notes as fast as she could and then stepped into the shadowed alley between the hotel and barn. “You reap and sow the fields yourself?”
“With help from Pascal—yes.” Jude closed the back door and started toward the barn. It was covered in the same white clapboard siding as the hotel.
A tall man passed on Broadway and paused. He waved hello to Jude and entered the alley at a leisurely pace.
Jude turned to Elizabeth. “I’d like to introduce you to a friend.”
Elizabeth had met so many men at lunch, she was sure this one would be yet another she’d soon forget, but they were all potential customers, so she acquiesced. “All right.”
The man approached, and the first things Elizabeth noted were his kind eyes and his handsome smile. She found herself offering him a genuine smile in return.
“Miss Elizabeth Bell, this is my good friend Reverend Ben Lahaye.”
“Reverend?” Elizabeth looked at Jude. “You attend church?”
“Only on Sundays,” Reverend Lahaye said with a grin. “Jude wouldn’t miss a chance to hear me preach.”
Jude grinned. “If I missed your sermon on Sunday, I wouldn’t know what to banter with you about the rest of the week.”
Reverend Lahaye took Elizabeth’s hand and offered a slight bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bell. I’ve already heard much about you and your sisters.”
“The pleasure is mine, Reverend Lahaye.”
He let her hand go. “Call me Ben. I wouldn’t know how to answer to Reverend Lahaye.” He was an attractive man, with high cheekbones and a wide mouth. If she wasn’t mistaken, he looked Métis. She’d read about the people who lived mostly in northern Minnesota and southern Canada. They were descended from French fur-trading fathers and Chippewa mothers. She wouldn’t know it by his clothing, which looked much like Jude’s, or even his hair, which he cut just below his ears, but in his features she saw Indian ancestry, and his last name indicated he was also French.
“Will you be joining us this evening?” Jude asked his friend.
“If Miss Bell will be here.”
Elizabeth looked between the two men. “I don’t know where else I’d be.”
“Splendid,” Ben said. “I hope you’ll save a dance for me.”
“A dance?” Hadn’t there been a ball the night before?
Jude shifted on his feet. “I’ve invited a few friends to the hotel this evening to welcome you and Grace to Little Falls. I thought you might enjoy a little dancing.”
He’d remembered her comments from the night before and planned a dance for her? His thoughtfulness surprised and delighted her—much more than it should—and she offered him a smile. She would enjoy the opportunity to dance again.
She looked at Ben. “I’ll save the first dance for you.”
It would be too forward to ask Jude for a dance, but maybe she’d get to find out if he was good on his feet, after all.
* * *
Jude stood in the lobby after supper, waiting for Elizabeth and Grace to come down the stairs. Rose had been put to sleep and Violet had agreed to stay in their sitting room for the evening to keep an ear on her. Pascal would watch the front desk and Martha would keep the coffee and refreshments going—though after Elizabeth’s comments earlier in the day, he wondered if she’d approve.
The doors opened and a group of Jude’s acquaintances entered. “Where are the mesdemoiselles you told us about?” Pierre LaForce’s French accent punctuated each word. “I have come to sweep them off their feet.”
“They’ll be down shortly,” Jude said. “Make your way to the ballroom.”
The men moved on and Jude paced across the lobby. He had invited about fifty men in hopes that several of them would catch the eye of each Bell sister. No doubt word had spread and others would come, but he couldn’t control the numbers. Single
