His response was chopped and his tone warned against further probing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Was that why he seemed so closed off? She couldn’t imagine being entirely on her own. Even when she’d spent those long, lonely years in boarding school, she’d known Everett was out there and would come running should she need him. And she’d had holidays to look forward to, when the two of them could spend precious time together.
How long had he been on his own? “That must—”
But he cut her off, brushing aside her sympathy. “I lost them a long time ago. I’m used to being on my own.”
As if that would make it any easier to bear. But she took the hint. “Well then, can you tell me how long you’ve worked for Judge Madison?”
“Going on eleven years now.”
“And do you have any hobbies?” she asked, desperate to get some kind of personal insight. “Something you enjoy doing when you’re not working?”
He made an impatient gesture. “I don’t have time for hobbies. The judge keeps me busy. And that’s how I like it.”
The man was impossible! How could she get him to open up and give her more than these terse, uninformative answers?
Before she could ask anything else, Della returned with their food. Abigail set aside her pencil and notebook while the meal was placed before them. She wasn’t getting much to work with anyway. This was going to be a very dry article unless she injected more life into it herself with personal observations.
Of course, he had to actually do something for her to observe before even that much was possible.
* * *
Seth had never liked talking about himself, so as soon as the waitress departed, he took the offensive. “I believe it’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”
His words brought a pleased light to her eyes. Apparently, unlike him, she did like talking about herself.
“Of course,” she said, lifting her fork. “My parents are no longer around, but I have an older brother who’s married with two children.” She smiled. “I’ve already mentioned that Daisy, my sister-in-law, runs a restaurant.” She touched the pencil on the table. “And Everett owns and operates the town newspaper. I work with both of them from time to time.”
Interesting, but not the information he’d been after. “You said you and Judge Madison have been corresponding for a number of years. What initiated the correspondence?”
“That’s a fun story. He did an amazing kindness for my brother several years ago and I wrote to thank him. It continued from there. We discovered that we had similar tastes in literature and in food. He introduced me to Cervantes, and I introduced him to the joys of apple-pecan pie.”
Interesting. What amazing kindness had Judge Madison done for her brother? But she didn’t elaborate further so he moved to something else. “Do you have any experience doing the sort of work the judge is asking of you?”
“Not actual hands-on experience.” She said that lightly, as if it was inconsequential. “But I’ve studied as much as I could find and it sounds like fun. I don’t imagine it will be terribly difficult.”
He found her offhand manner irritating. Then he remembered the judge’s cryptic mention of allowing her to “earn the means to achieve one of her dreams.” “What will you gain from doing this?”
She frowned—was it at his question or his tone? Had she picked up on his irritation? She might be more perceptive than he’d given her credit for.
“You mean, besides repaying a friend?” Her tone said that should be enough.
Then she smiled, her mood seeming to change with dizzying speed. “I run a small subscription library that’s currently housed in Daisy’s restaurant. Judge Madison offered me a ground-floor room here in the hotel to house it.”
Yet another thing his employer had failed to mention to him. “So we’ll need to account for that when we address the ground floor.”
She nodded. “I’ve already looked around and found the perfect place.”
Of course she had, but he wouldn’t be ready to discuss that until he had a chance to evaluate things himself. “We’ll certainly look at all the options when the time is right. We want to make certain the location benefits all parties.”
She studied him thoughtfully, then nodded. “Of course.”
They both focused on their meals after that, eating in silence for several minutes. At first he found the respite from her chatter soothing, but after a while the silence began to feel oddly oppressive.
Finally, he spoke up. “Tell me about this library of yours.”
Her face lit up again. “It’s a subscription library that I started about five years ago with just the books my brother and I owned.
“Over the years I’ve taken the money I earned through the subscriptions and purchased new titles to add to it,” she continued. “And from time to time Judge Madison sends me some of his books as well.”
She gave a sharing-an-insight smile. “He always says he’s just getting rid of some of his older books to make room for new ones, but I suspect he’s just being generous.”
Seth suspected she was right. The judge obviously had a soft spot for Miss Fulton. But he’d noticed the man often enjoyed championing lost causes.
She waved her fork, obviously unable to keep her hands still while she talked. “Anyway, it’s not as large as the libraries you’d find in big cities, but now I’ll have the space to expand it the way I want to.”
What did she know of big-city libraries? “A worthy goal. And I suppose having the library here in the hotel could be viewed as a bonus for our guests.”
She beamed at him. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. What a wonderful idea. I could even waive my subscription fee for guests, at least for their first book.”
Being the focus of that wide-eyed, admiring smile took him aback. He wasn’t used to such attention. Scrambling to get his thoughts back under control, Seth brought the discussion back around to the job ahead of them. “The food here seems passable, but not memorable.”
Miss Fulton grimaced agreement. “It was better when Norma ran the kitchen. But Della is trying. With some direction, and help with menu planning, she could be an excellent cook.”
“You said you’ve worked in your sister-in-law’s restaurant. Do you feel qualified to help in that arena?” Having the chatty Miss Fulton in charge of the kitchen might keep her busy enough to stay out of his way.
“Of course.” She pointed her fork at him. “In fact, I’ve already been thinking about this.” She leaned forward, her expression warming with enthusiasm. “Since we have so few guests while we’re under construction, it makes sense to get their food orders the day before and then we can plan all meals first thing in the morning. It will make the best use of Della’s time and our money.”
That
