A Passing Glance Read online

  A Passing Glance

  Kansas Crossroads Book Fifteen

  by Amelia C. Adams

  With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Joseph, Mary, Meisje, Renee, and Tina.

  Cover design by Steven Novak.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author and Links

  Chapter One

  Topeka, Kansas

  1876

  Posy McVey took off her apron and tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner of the kitchen, more than glad to call it a night. The evening summer heat had started to give way to the cooler temperatures of fall, but it would be another month or so before she really felt the relief she was seeking.

  Adam Brody, owner of the hotel where Posy worked, entered the kitchen with his wife, Elizabeth. His hand rested on the small of her back as he steered her around the table. Posy loved watching the two of them interact with each other. Even though they’d been married over a year, they still acted like newlyweds, and she thought it was incredibly sweet.

  “Another day of good work, ladies,” Mr. Brody said, addressing everyone in the room. “I know it’s been difficult to keep up with the larger numbers of customers as of late, but you’ll be glad to know that another newspaper advertisement went out today, and hopefully, we’ll have some new waitresses joining us before too much longer.”

  “And how long will this batch last?” Sarah asked, humor in her voice. She had been at the hotel almost since the start, and she’d commented on how many girls she’d seen come and go. It seemed that falling in love and getting married was somehow preferable to washing dishes for a hundred hungry guests. Sarah had gotten married, but she still worked at the hotel, and Posy was glad of it. Sarah and Ruth were both wonderful cooks.

  “We’ll keep them as long as we can,” Mr. Brody said, matching Sarah’s good humor with his own. “Perhaps we should try hiring only plain girls, or very old women. Or one with a wart on her nose. Anything to keep them from marrying and leaving us.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “With our luck, that wouldn’t work at all. Some man would come along who found nose warts infinitely attractive, and we’d lose her as well.”

  Mr. Brody sighed dramatically. “Too true. I suppose I can’t throw rocks in a glass house, though—after all, I did start this trend of marrying a waitress.” He gave Elizabeth’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go pick up our daughter. I’m sure Harriet is more than ready for a break.”

  They left the kitchen through the back door and headed toward the cottage where Harriet and Tom lived. Harriet cared for the Brodys’ little daughter, Rose, during mealtimes, along with her own son, Teddy. She’d been one of the first waitresses to come here too, but she fell in love with Tom, the handyman, and hadn’t left either.

  “When I get married, I’d like a man like Mr. Brody,” Emma said as she finished wiping off the counter.

  “Because he’s so handsome?” Carrie teased.

  “Well, yes, but mostly because he’s kind. I’ve never met a man so genuinely kind before.” Emma flicked the last of the crumbs into the stove. “There—I’m done.”

  Ruth set the last of the butter in the icebox. “Me too, and I’m worn right out. How many meals did we serve today? A thousand? Two thousand?”

  Sarah laughed. “Three hundred and twenty, but yes, it felt like more.” She glanced at the clock on the shelf over the stove. “I’d better get home—Stephen will be wondering where I am.”

  “I was just thinking the same,” Grace said as she placed the broom back in its corner.

  “You were thinking that Stephen would be missing you?” Carrie raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course not, silly. I was talking about my own husband.” Grace shook her head. “I’ll walk with you, Sarah.”

  Sarah and Grace had married brothers Stephen and Gilbert, and they lived near each other not far from the hotel. Posy envied them in a way. They were sisters by marriage, not by blood, but it was hard to know the difference—they got along together so well. Her brother, Jesse, had married Giselle, the dining room manager at the hotel, and she and Posy enjoyed spending time together, but she imagined it would take time for them to grow close.

  And Posy knew it was her own fault.

  When would she ever learn to open up and trust that she was safe here in her new home?

  She glanced over at the table where Nora, another of the waitresses, was drying dishes. If Posy was miserable in this humid heat, Nora must be in agony. She was due to deliver any day now after a long and difficult pregnancy made even worse by the attack that brought the child about in the first place.

  “Another day come and gone,” Posy said, picking up the stack of plates Nora had finished and setting it on the shelf. “How are you feeling?”

  “About as well as I could hope for.” Nora shook her head. “Dr. Wayment says it’s just a matter of time, but I don’t think he understands that time isn’t my friend right now. Honestly, today lasted about three weeks.”

  “I can imagine. Are you done with the plates? Walk over to Mrs. Dempsey’s with me. I heard a rumor that she’s serving iced lemonade tonight.”

  Nora hesitated. “That sounds wonderful, but I’m not sure I should go out . . . I mean, there’s a reason why I hide in the kitchen.”

  “If you’re feeling well enough, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t go,” Emma said. “Just loop a shawl around your arms, and then you can pull it in front if you feel uncomfortable.”

  Nora chuckled. “Have you seen me lately? No number of shawls would hide me now.”

  “And it’s dark—the darkness will help.” Posy was anxious to do whatever she could to ease the girl’s discomfort, and the sheen of sweat on the back of Nora’s neck said that she needed to get out in the cooler evening air and away from the hot kitchen.

  Nora sighed. “I suppose. But only because you’ll keep badgering me if I don’t.”

  “I likely will. You’ve made a good choice.”

  Nora hoisted herself out of her chair and took off her apron, tossing it after Posy’s. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m coming too,” Emma said, and Carrie chimed in as well.

  When they walked outside and the fresh air hit Posy’s face, she inhaled deeply. Yes. This was what she needed, maybe even more than Nora did.

  As the daughter of an Indian mother, Posy had spent most of her life out of doors. Her Scottish father had taught her about the white ways and how to dress and so forth, but only as much as she’d need to get along in society—when he married his Kaw wife, he’d decided to become Indian himself, and he’d turned from many of his old traditions. Posy’s heart belonged to the Kaw, and staying inside so much of the time rubbed at her sensibilities and made her feel confined. She often wished she could steal Cleophas out of the stable and ride back to the reservation, but she wasn’t safe there. Not anymore.

  Emma tucked her arm through Nora’s and guided her down the walk. “We’ll go as slowly as we need,” she said. “No sense in making Nora trot after us.”

  “I don’t think Nora trots,” Carrie replied. “It’s more of a waddle.”

  “That’s mean,” Nora protested, although her voice held a note of laughter. “Just wait until after I have this baby. I’ll chase you all the way down the street and back so I can smack you for saying that.”

  Posy jus
t listened to the banter, smiling. These girls had done everything they could to include her, but they were so unlike the Kaw girls she’d grown up with. They were sometimes loud and always teasing, looking for ways to have fun. The Kaw were more serious, focused on their household duties and preparing for their eventual marriages. Posy liked to have a good time, but she held back, not comfortable yet with acting like her new friends.

  Mrs. Dempsey’s boarding house was just a short distance away when five men stepped out of the shadows of a building and surrounded the girls, their booted feet scuffling in the dirt and their hands on the holsters strapped to their waists.

  “What do we have here?” one of them said. “Looks like a pretty little flock of birdies.”

  Posy’s breath froze in her chest. Her brother, Jesse, had gone to great lengths to hide her away at the Brody Hotel so she wouldn’t be forced to go back to the reservation. Giselle had even shot a man who had wanted to harm her. She was safe—she had to be safe—and yet these men looked so dangerous. Her hand slid to the pocket of her dress.

  “We’re not birds, sir, and we’d like to continue on our way,” Carrie replied.

  “We don’t have any objection to that, but maybe you’d care to join us for an evening stroll before you scamper off,” another man said. “We’ve just arrived in town, and it would be nice and neighborly of you to show us around a bit.”

  “We won’t be joining you. Now step aside, please.” Emma held her chin high, looking the men straight on.

  “I don’t think we will.” The first man reached out, grabbed Nora’s arm, and yanked her toward him. “And if it takes a little persuading to get you all to see things our way, well, that can be arranged.”

  That was simply enough. Posy withdrew her small pistol from its hiding place and leveled it at the man who had grabbed Nora. “Let her go.”

  He blinked, his eyes wide. “Just wait a second there, missy. You know you don’t want to be waving that around—someone could get hurt.”

  “Yes, someone could—you. Let my friend go.” From the corner of her eye, Posy saw that Carrie and Emma had pulled out their pistols as well, and the men didn’t know how to react to that.

  “Fine, fine.” The man dropped Nora’s arm and stepped back. “No harm done. Be on your way.”

  Posy gave a nod, but didn’t lower her pistol until they had taken several steps away from the small mob of men. Her knees were shaking, but not from fear—she was angrier than she’d ever been in her life. How dare those men think they could take whatever they wanted? And how dare they yank Nora around as though she was some kind of property?

  “Ladies! Please, wait!”

  Posy whirled around at the sound of a man’s voice, bringing her gun back up into position. The newcomer froze and put his hands in the air. “I’m sorry to startle you—I promise, I mean you no harm. I wanted to tell you how much I admire your courage. I saw what was happening from down the road and was on my way to help you, but you handled it yourselves with surprising bravery.” He nodded to the pistol. “I wonder if you might put that away.”

  Posy studied him. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light, but it was obvious that he wasn’t with the other men—he was dressed neatly, his small beard was trimmed, and his voice was kind and sincere. She decided to extend him a slight amount of trust and slid the pistol back into her pocket.

  “I must say, I’m rather amazed,” he went on. “Are all you ladies armed?”

  “Our employer insists,” Emma said. “And we’re quite glad of it—it makes us less dependent on men who happen to be passing by.”

  He chuckled. “Especially men who don’t cross the street quickly enough.” He pulled his hat off his head. “My name is Parker Monroe. May I see you . . . well, wherever you’re going?”

  Posy glanced at the others. She’d lost her desire for lemonade—all she wanted now was the safety of the hotel, but she didn’t know if the others felt the same way.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not feeling well, and I’d like to go back,” Nora said. She did look rather wan.

  “I’m not surprised you don’t feel well, with the way that lunatic was pulling you around,” Carrie replied. “Of course we can go back.”

  “This was likely a mistake all the way around, and I’m sorry,” Posy said. She turned to Mr. Monroe. “Yes, we’d appreciate an escort back, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Of course.” He put on his hat. “Where are we off to?”

  “We’re waitresses at the Brody Hotel, which is just down the street toward the railroad station.”

  “You all work at the Brody Hotel? I checked in there not ten minutes ago. I must have just missed you.”

  The small group began their short pilgrimage back. Nora’s steps were coming slower, and they all adjusted their pace so as not to leave her behind. Mr. Monroe had somehow ended up walking beside Posy, and his sleeve brushed her arm every so often. She moved a step to the side to keep it from happening again—she was still a bit jittery from what had just happened, and she had just met this man, after all. His sleeve should know better than to be making such quick acquaintances.

  “So, where are you from, Mr. Monroe?” she asked, trying to hide her nerves.

  “A town called Humboldt. It’s about halfway between here and Indian territory. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

  “I have, actually,” she replied.

  “That’s surprising. You might be the first person I’ve ever met who knows where it is.”

  The fact that it was close to Indian territory made it very familiar to Posy, but she wasn’t about to say so. “And what brings you here?”

  “I’m hoping to hire on with the marshal’s office as a deputy.” He chuckled. “Although, now that I’ve seen you and your friends in action, I think you might be better suited to that position than I would be.”

  “None of us want to be gunslingers on a regular basis,” Posy told him. “We’re quite content to leave that to you.”

  “Well, we’ll see if it actually happens. I’ve been communicating with Colonel Gordon via letter and telegram, and tomorrow I meet with him in person. Wish me luck.”

  “Oh, we do. We’ve been in need of more deputies as the town has grown, and we’ll be glad to have you.”

  They reached the steps of the hotel and went inside. Tom, who was manning the front desk for the night, greeted them all with a smile.

  Posy turned toward the staircase, but Mr. Monroe stepped to her side again. “I never caught your name,” he said.

  “Posy McVey.”

  “Posy. I like that.”

  “Thank you. So did my mother and father. Goodnight, Mr. Monroe.”

  She climbed the stairs, noting how Emily was supporting Nora on one side. Poor Nora. Being this far along in a pregnancy must be horribly uncomfortable, especially where things like stairs were concerned.

  When they reached the attic dormitory they all shared, Ruth looked up from the book she was reading and frowned. “What happened? You’re back a lot earlier than I thought you’d be.”

  “Men. Men are what happened,” Carrie replied.

  “Oh. Those.” Ruth closed her book. “Seems like they’re always up to something.”

  “Except for Mr. Brody. Right, Emma?” Carrie teased.

  “You’re never going to let me forget that I said that, are you?” Emma shook her head. “I don’t have any sorts of designs on Mr. Brody, you know. I just think he’s a good example of what a man ought to be.”

  “Definitely not what we saw out there tonight.” Carrie took off her shoes and let them fall to the floor with a thud. “Those Neanderthals.”

  “Except for Mr. Monroe. Right, Posy?” Carrie was certainly enjoying herself.

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” All she had done was chat with Mr. Monroe as they walked back to the hotel. There was nothing particularly interesting about that, was there? Of course not. But why were her cheeks a little warm at
the thought?

  Nora sat down on the edge of her bed and started pulling pins from her hair. “Let’s try to forget about all of it—and maybe make our own lemonade next time.”

  Posy silently agreed. Mrs. Dempsey’s might have been tasty, but it wasn’t worth the risk of altercations on the street. She changed into her nightclothes and climbed into bed, leaving off the blanket and just using the sheet. The attic windows were open and allowed for a slight breeze, but it was still far too warm for anything heavy.

  She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when she heard a moan, and she sat up, instantly alert.

  “Um . . . I think I need help,” Nora said, and Posy was at her side as quickly as she could untangle herself from the bedclothes.

  “Is it the baby?” Posy asked, and Nora nodded.

  Ruth was already pulling on her shoes. “I’ll run down and ask Tom to get the doctor,” she said.

  “And I’ve heard you’re supposed to boil water or something, so I’ll go start that,” Carrie added.

  Emma just looked uncertain. “Why don’t you go tell Elizabeth what’s going on?” Posy suggested, and Emma disappeared down the stairs after the others. Of course Elizabeth should be alerted—that was rather obvious—but Emma was naturally a bit frazzled.

  Posy sat on a chair next to Nora’s bed and held her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “The pain is pretty severe, but that’s normal, isn’t it?”

  Posy nodded. She had visited laboring mothers in the village with Susan, their medicine woman, and while she didn’t know much, she knew that pain—and a lot of it—was a natural part of the process. “You’ll be fine. You’re strong and brave, and we’ll all be here to help you.”

  Nora squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Thank you. I . . . I’m scared, Posy.”

  “I don’t blame you one bit. It’s a scary thing you’re doing. But think of it—for all these months, you’ve given this little baby the chance to grow, and when it comes and the Osbournes take it in, you’ll be giving them the chance to be parents. So many good things are happening right now.” Posy hoped she sounded calm when in truth, she might be just as frazzled as the other girls.