the silence drew out, he gave a sardonic smile. “I take it I’m not what you expected.” Was it the cane that had tied her tongue? Had the judge not explained?
His words brought a touch of color to her cheeks. “My apologies. It’s just, Judge Madison said you were a friend of his, so I assumed you’d be nearer his age. But that was silly of me. I’m sure he has friends of all ages. Just look at me.”
Definitely not the man’s granddaughter then. “So, you’re a friend of Judge Madison’s? Did he send you to meet me?”
She waved a hand, smiling as if he’d said something amusing. “Not exactly. But I couldn’t let a friend of the judge’s show up with no one to welcome him. So I’ve been meeting trains ever since I got his letter.”
Was the woman always this chatty?
Then she gave him another friendly smile. “Actually, he’s hired me to help with the renovations at the Rose Palace. You and I will be working together—isn’t that wonderful?”
She delivered that bit of information as if she thought it would make him happy.
It didn’t.
Seth tried to make sense of her words. Did the judge think he couldn’t handle this job alone?
The redhead’s smile faltered slightly—his lack of enthusiasm must have shown on his face.
Before he could say anything, however, she pulled an envelope from her skirt pocket and held it out to him.
“My apologies for springing this on you—Everett says my mouth sometimes gets ahead of my thoughts. Perhaps you should read this letter from Judge Madison before we go any further. I think it will explain matters.”
He accepted the proffered letter, his mind trying to make sense of her convoluted story. Who was Everett and why did he have any relevance to this? “Thank you, Miss...”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, where are my manners? I’m Abigail Fulton.”
“Well, Miss Fulton, if you will excuse me?” He executed a short bow and managed to make it to a nearby bench without leaning on his cane too heavily.
So, Judge Madison had arranged for him to have an assistant. Having someone to help with matters concerning the locals would no doubt be useful. But Seth had always selected his own assistants if he felt he needed one. And this young lady would definitely not have been his choice. She looked like she would be more at home in a Sunday school class than a business office.
Besides, her presence could prove to be a distraction. He glanced her way again. Already she was claiming more of his attention than he usually gave strangers.
Because she was such a chatterbox, of course.
More troubling was the fact that Judge Madison hadn’t mentioned this to him personally. Had he thought Seth lacking in some way? Or did he have some other reason?
Perhaps she was a friend of his granddaughter’s, someone he was attempting to help in some way. He supposed that was the man’s right.
Whatever the reason, Seth decided he could be gracious about it. Judge Madison had always been good to him, had been willing to take a chance on him when no one else would. He could extend the same courtesy to this young lady.
So long as she did her job adequately.
He unfolded the letter and scanned the opening. Then he halted and started over, carefully taking in each word.
I trust you made the trip to Turnabout in good form. As you have no doubt gathered, there are a few matters I failed to clarify before you left. This was partly because they were not yet definite, and partly because I thought it best you not form any preconceived notions before meeting Miss Fulton.
That being said, I have asked Miss Fulton to handle the decor aspects of the renovation and to partner with you on staffing decisions.
His jaw tightened. That could throw a hitch in his plans. Just how involved would she want to be in the staffing process?
It is my hope that this will be a mutually beneficial arrangement for you both. It will relieve you of the burden of making design decisions, allowing you to focus on overseeing the construction. And the combination of her knowledge of the local townsfolk and your understanding of the skills required should make for a highly effective partnership as you two work on the staffing.
You will receive your usual bonus at the project’s completion and Miss Fulton will earn the means to achieve one of her own dreams.
Seth frowned. What did that mean?
Working with Miss Fulton should not prove an onerous task. Despite her youth, I have found Abigail to be an imaginative, witty and charmingly spirited young lady. I believe she will be a fast learner and an able partner.
I look forward to seeing the results of your collaboration when I journey to Turnabout in December. If you should have any questions or concerns, you know how to reach me.
Sincerely,
Arthur Madison
As Seth read, he grew more and more incredulous. The judge wanted Miss Fulton to handle the decorating? He’d thought his employer wanted to give the hotel an air of sophistication and elegance. What did this provincial miss know about hotel decor? She’d probably never stayed in a truly elegant hotel in her life. If he had to keep a close eye on her choices it could actually lead to more work for him rather than less.
He realized he’d stiffened, so he deliberately relaxed. If this was what Judge Madison wanted, he’d just have to make the best of it.
She’d just better not get in the way of his plans.
* * *
Abigail watched Mr. Reynolds as he read the letter. He was certainly 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
