course.” Burke made a notation on his notepad, then looked up. “We’ve covered everything on my list. Is there anything else you wish to review?”
“That’s all for now.”
“Very good.” Burke left a few seconds later.
Jonathon returned his gaze to the lobby, his thoughts as disordered as the scene in front of him.
People came and went. Some hurried, others meandered. There was no pattern to their movement, yet the scene was a familiar one, replicated in every one of Jonathon’s hotels, on any given day of the week.
After years of traveling from hotel to hotel, room to room, living out of a trunk or suitcase, Jonathon was ready to put down roots, deep and strong and lasting. His family would be the men and women he hired to work at the train depot, their changed lives his legacy.
If he happened to find himself lonely at times, it was the price he was willing to pay to break the chain of sin that plagued his family.
As if to test his resolve, he caught sight of Fanny out of the corner of his eye. Beautiful. That was the first thought that came to mind as Jonathon watched her move out from behind the registration desk.
She scanned the immediate area with a slightly narrowed gaze, probably looking for something out of place. Her earnest, blue-green eyes, starred with heavy, dark lashes, swept across the lobby, over the marble flooring, up to the glass atrium above her head.
The sunlight streaming through the windows slid over her in washes of yellow and gold, highlighting the variegated strands of blond hair piled atop her head.
Jonathon remembered the first time he’d seen her, standing in much the same place as she was now. He’d sensed the moment their gazes met that she was going to pose a problem for him. Not on a business level, but on a personal one.
He hadn’t been wrong.
She caught him watching her. Smiling, she immediately changed direction. When she stopped beside him, his heart actually stuttered.
Up close, she was even more spectacular.
Her skin was flawless, her features almost doll-like. Pieces of hair had fallen free from her tidy coiffure. Since Jonathon rather liked the effect, he deemed it best not to point this out. No doubt she would reach up and tuck the wayward curls back in place.
“We have a busy few days ahead of us.” She’d barely uttered the statement before a bellman, juggling several large pieces of luggage, staggered toward her. Deftly moving aside to let him pass, she added, “We’re booked solid through Monday morning.”
Not sure what he heard in her voice—worry, tension, mild agitation?—Jonathon raked his gaze over her face. She was definitely anxious about something. “Any concerns I should know about?”
She answered without hesitation. “No, of course not.”
Highly unlikely, with every room booked for the next four nights. “None?” He lifted a single eyebrow. “Not one?”
Laughing softly, she shook her head. “Let me rephrase. Have problems presented themselves this morning? Yes, absolutely. Anything I, or my staff, can’t handle? No.”
“Good answer.”
She flashed a smug grin. “I know.”
He chuckled. She joined in.
A moment later her smile slipped, just a little, but enough that Jonathon noticed. He wondered at the cause but thought he probably knew. Her mother and father had arrived earlier this morning. “I trust your parents are settled in their room?”
“They are, yes.” She angled her head to gaze up at him. “Thank you, Jonathon, for giving them the finest suite in the hotel. You have no idea how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness and generosity.”
Something about her expression, so grateful, so overcome with emotion, made him stand a bit taller. He had a sudden urge to shield this woman from all the evil in this world, to slay every one of her dragons, real or perceived.
The need to protect Fanny, stronger than he’d felt for anyone before, wasn’t entirely unexpected. Nor was it new. The sensation had been with him from the start of their association.
If she were a different woman, he a different man...
He shoved the thought aside. Fanny wanted marriage, children. Family. Jonathon knew nothing of those things. But he wanted her to have them. He wanted her to find happiness. With some other man?
No.
His mouth went dry as dust. He cleared his throat with a low growl. “How is your mother feeling?”
“She seemed well enough when I left her. Her color was good and she was breathing easily, but...”
Fanny’s words trailed off and she snapped her mouth firmly shut.
“But...?” he prompted.
“But the ten-mile journey into town wore her out. She’s putting up a brave front. I’m not in the least fooled by her false smiles. Thankfully, Dr. Shane is upstairs with her now, administering a breathing treatment.” Gratitude returned to Fanny’s gaze. “Thank you for making sure he was already here when she arrived.”
Something that looked like affection, perhaps even admiration, replaced the gratitude.
How he wanted to be the man he saw in her eyes right now.
He cleared his throat again.
“I was happy to send for the doctor.” Of course, Shane Bartlett wasn’t just any doctor. He was the best in Denver. His connection to Charity House and his willingness to see patients regardless of their past—or current—lifestyles made him one of the few men Jonathon trusted. “I know how much your mother means to you.”
Another, heavier sigh leaked out of Fanny’s very pretty mouth. “I don’t know what I’d do if one of her attacks becomes so severe she isn’t able to recover.”
The anguish in Fanny’s voice was a sharp, tangible thing.
Jonathon was reminded of the day his own mother had taken ill. How well he understood the fear and pain Fanny fought to control.
Wanting to comfort her, he opened his mouth to say something, not precisely sure what, but a minor event playing out at the hotel’s entrance captured his attention.
An expectant hush fell over the lobby as a stunning couple walked in with their sizable brood, plus one former, notorious madam Jonathon knew a bit too well. After all, she’d once owned the brothel where his mother had worked.
He had a lot of memories connected to Mattie Silks, not all of them good. But her appearance in his hotel wasn’t the reason every muscle in his back knotted with tension.
Hunter Mitchell, the oldest of the Mitchell siblings, had arrived ahead of his brothers.
One down, two more yet to show.
Jonathon
