A Christmas Promise (Kansas Crossroads Book 16) Read online

  A Christmas Promise

  Kansas Crossroads Book Sixteen

  by Amelia C. Adams

  With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Cheryl, Erin, Mary, Renee, and Shelby.

  Cover design by Steven Novak of Novak Illustration.

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  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Recipes

  Chapter One

  Topeka, Kansas

  1876

  Miranda Monroe added another log to the fire in the parlor, then crouched down and held her hands toward the flames. It had definitely been colder over the last several days, and all the waitresses had been kept busy carrying firewood to the different guest rooms. Tom White, the handyman, would have done it, but he’d been the one chopping the wood in the first place.

  With Christmas just days away, the hotel had been busy. People were traveling here and there to visit family for the holidays, and the trains were little warmer than icebergs. The passengers stumbled into the hotel anxious for hot coffee and hot food, and Miranda felt sorry for them. It seemed to her that they could travel at a time when the weather was more forgiving, but no—it was Christmas, and people did all sorts of strange things in the name of Christmas, including freezing off their fingers and toes and noses.

  The front door to the hotel opened, and Tom stumbled in, his arms full of boughs. She came to her feet, aghast at all the pine needles he was dropping on the floor. “What on earth?”

  “Sorry about the mess. Elizabeth asked me to head out this morning and find some greenery for decorations.” He set the boughs on the floor in front of the registration desk. “I’ve got a bunch more outside, and a tree.”

  “A tree?” Miranda couldn’t stop staring at the mess. She’d just swept the lobby floor a few moments ago, and now it would have to be done all over again before the next train.

  “Oh, Tom! You’re back!” Elizabeth Brody bustled into the lobby, a pleased look on her face. “These are beautiful. And did you say you got a tree?”

  “I sure did. I just need to nail a stand to the bottom of it and then I’ll bring it in.”

  “I can’t wait. Adam brought my Christmas boxes out of storage for me this morning, and I confess, I’ve been a little giddy just thinking about it.”

  Tom grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

  Elizabeth clasped her hands under her chin, for a moment looking like a small girl instead of a grown woman and the manager of a busy hotel. “First all the fresh snow, and now a tree—I can’t wait for Christmas this year. I think Rose might be old enough now to understand that it’s a special day—don’t you, Miranda?”

  “I really can’t say,” Miranda replied as she grabbed the broom from the closet behind the desk. How was she to know what a toddler would or wouldn’t understand? Elizabeth looked so enamored with the idea, though, that Miranda couldn’t bring herself to say anything that would disappoint her.

  “I’ll get some of the other girls out here to help us,” Elizabeth said, moving off to the dining room, and Miranda froze. Help us? Did Elizabeth expect Miranda to help decorate? Oh, please, no. She’d much rather try to keep the floor clean than to participate in its utter ruination.

  Nora, Carrie, and Emma came back with Elizabeth, their hands full of ribbons and lace and other supposedly cheer-inducing froufrou. Miranda wished she could slip into the kitchen and help finish getting the next meal ready, but if the new girls had it under control, she could hardly make an excuse to escape.

  “Stop sweeping, Miranda,” Nora said, speaking over her shoulder while she tied a bow. “We’re just going to keep adding to the pile. Come help us, then sweep up everything when we’re done.”

  But one would have to be feeling festive in order to want to decorate, and Miranda was not feeling festive. Nora made sense, though, so Miranda leaned the broom against the wall. “How can I help?”

  “Take the end of this garland we’re making, and we’ll carry it over to the banister.”

  Miranda held the greenery in place while Nora fastened it, then did the same all along the length until the staircase looked completely transformed. Even in her decidedly un-festive mood, she had to admit that it looked quite pretty.

  When the door opened again, she wasn’t quite as aghast at the number of pine needles that fell to the floor when Tom came in carrying a Christmas tree.

  “Where should I put this?” he asked. “Elizabeth wanted it somewhere everyone could enjoy it.”

  “What about here?” Carrie motioned toward the corner between the base of the staircase and the entry to the parlor.

  “Oh, yes. That would look nice,” Emma chimed in.

  Tom carried the tree over and placed it on the floor, then stood back. “All right. I’ll leave it to you ladies to finish it up.”

  “Thanks, Tom,” Carrie called out as he left, and he gave a nod.

  The fragrant smell of fresh pine was becoming almost overpowering. Miranda didn’t usually mind the scent, but so much all at once was making her nose start to drip. “Be right back,” she said, turning and heading up the stairs to the attic dormitory she shared with the other girls. She told herself that she wanted to grab a fresh handkerchief, but in truth, she really wanted a moment to separate herself from all the yuletide ridiculousness going on downstairs.

  She called it ridiculousness in her mind, but in actuality, it was pain—pain she didn’t want to face.

  She’d loved Christmas as a little girl. She remembered waking up early on Christmas morning and running to her bedroom window to see if any fresh snow had fallen. Then she’d dress as quickly as she could because her bedroom was cold, and to dally over the task would only make her colder. Then it was time to finish helping her mother with breakfast. Parker would always try to sneak a peek into his stocking before they ate, but the rule in their house was breakfast first.

  Their mother always served a delicious cinnamon cake with their bacon and eggs, and their father would eat too quickly and get crumbs in his beard. He’d pretend to be ignorant of them until someone pointed them out, and then he’d say, “I was just saving a snack for later.”

  Miranda laughed at the memory, but then gave in to sobs. She sat on the edge of her bed and cried, wishing that such a happy memory didn’t make the ache so much worse.

  She heard footsteps on the stairs, and she tried to wipe the tears away, but she knew it was no use. Adele and Regina, two of the newer waitresses, came into the room and sat down on either side of her, neither one speaking, but just being there.

  “I’m sorry,” Miranda said when she could finally find her voice. “I know I’m being a goose—who cries at Christmas?”

  “Lots of people,” Adele replied. “And when Nora said you hadn’t come back down, we thought we’d better check on you—we don’t have long until the next train.”

  “You’re right, and the floor has to be swept again. I have better things to do than sitting up here and feeling sorry for myself.” Miranda gave each of her friends a quick smile. “I’ll be all right. Some days are just harder than others.”

  “We all have days like that,” Regina replied. “We understand.”

  Miranda wiped her eyes again, put her handkerchief in her pocket, and stood up. “Let’s go, ladies. That train’s not going to wait around for us.”

  ***

&n
bsp; Decorating the tree would have to wait—cleaning up the pine needles from every square inch of the lobby took up the last few minutes before the train arrived. The whistle sounded, and Miranda put the broom away and joined the other waitresses as they lined up to greet their guests. Miranda looked around. “Where’s Kate?” she asked.

  “She’s leading the kitchen service for the first time today,” Giselle replied. As the dining room manager, Giselle assigned the girls to their different posts and decided when they needed to be rotated.

  “I wish her luck,” Emma replied. “That’s not an easy task.”

  “She has Ruth to help her, and Sarah for another couple of weeks,” Giselle replied. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  The train passengers filed into the hotel and were shown to their tables by the waitresses, who knew to keep the hot coffee coming. The air outside was bitter cold, and their customers must have been freezing. It was the kind of day not to travel at all unless you absolutely had somewhere you needed to be.

  Miranda noticed one young man who seemed to be traveling alone. She motioned him to a table in the corner, thinking their meal service was small enough that he might get the luxury of not having to share a table. “What can I get for you?”

  “Something hot, and right now, that’s all I care about,” he said with a chuckle. “Then after that, I’ll ask directions for finding Pastor Robert Osbourne.”

  There was something familiar about his voice, something that tickled a memory that was buried deep, but she couldn’t place it. He might have been a customer another time as well. “Finding the pastor won’t be difficult,” she replied, deciding it wasn’t important to figure out how she knew this man. Gracious, it wasn’t like she could memorize and retrieve the names of every customer she’d ever served. “The church is only three blocks from here. Now, how do you feel about roast beef and potatoes?”

  “I adore them.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She left him unwinding what seemed like yards of a knitted scarf from around his neck and stepped into the kitchen to pick up his food. Kate’s apron was already splashed with gravy and some strands of hair were coming out of her bun, but she was moving quickly and efficiently, and she handed Miranda the plate within seconds. With Sarah quitting soon because of her advanced pregnancy, they’d need another cook in the kitchen, and Miranda was relieved to see that Kate was handling the pressure—Ruth couldn’t do all the shifts alone and live to tell the tale.

  When Miranda pushed through the dining room door to serve the roast beef, she was surprised to find that her customer was actually a very nice-looking young man, something that had been hard to tell before when he’d been so bundled up. As she took another glance—because who wouldn’t take another glance at a handsome young man—she paused. “Richard Norton?” No wonder his voice had sounded so familiar. That voice had made her heartbeat accelerate on a regular basis once upon a time.

  He blinked. “Miranda? Is that you?” He came to his feet. “My goodness, you’ve grown up. And what are you doing in Topeka?”

  “Parker took a job here as a deputy a few months back, and he brought me with him. What about you? After you moved away from Humboldt, we never heard anything more about you.”

  “I’ve just graduated from seminary, and I’m here to assist Pastor Osbourne. But it’s a bit of a long story, and I have a feeling you’re busy right now.”

  She glanced around the dining room, realizing that yes, she was busy. Seeing Richard had driven every other thought from her mind. “Yes, I am. Could we talk later? I’d love to catch up.”

  “Yes, of course. Later this afternoon?”

  “Perfect.” She had to swallow—was he really here? Was this really happening? “Now, is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “Is there any coffee left?”

  Oh, gracious. Every other passenger in the room had been handed a toasty mug almost as soon as they’d been seated. She couldn’t imagine why she’d forgotten his. “Of course. I’m so sorry—I’ll be right back.”

  She grabbed the freshest pot from the stove and poured him a cup, hoping there wasn’t some sort of heavenly punishment for failing to take care of an assistant pastor. Or whatever he was—she wasn’t sure of his title. At any rate, he deserved to be treated better than this. She delivered his coffee, made sure he had cream and sugar, asked if his meal was all right, and then moved on to the next table. She’d try to put all that awkwardness out of her mind—and the fact that her stomach had nearly climbed out of her throat when she saw him. She had honestly never been so surprised in her life.

  Once Richard . . . er, Pastor Norton, she supposed . . . finished eating, she walked out onto the porch with him and pointed him in the direction of the church—which was kind of obvious, really, given that it had a steeple and all. It gave her a chance to talk with him again before he left, though, which she really couldn’t begrudge.

  “And when should I come back for our visit?” he asked. “You have trains coming and going all day, don’t you?”

  “We do, but thankfully, there are breaks. I’m free between four and five, if that’s convenient for you.”

  “I’ll make it work,” he replied, giving that smile she remembered so well, and then he was off down the snowy sidewalk.

  She stood there for a moment and watched him go, not feeling the cold even though she wasn’t wearing a coat. Richard Norton at the Brody Hotel . . . it was simply too much of a coincidence to be believed.

  “So, who was that?” Emma asked, coming up behind her.

  “That was the first boy I ever wanted to marry,” Miranda said, turning back toward the building with a sigh. She wiped her feet before stepping into the lobby, and Emma did the same. “He and Parker were good friends in school, and I was ridiculously in love with him. I did everything I could to try to make myself seem more grown up so he’d notice me, but of course it didn’t work because I was so much younger.”

  “How much younger?” Emma asked.

  “I was twelve, and he was sixteen. That’s worlds of difference, but I thought I was a very mature twelve-year-old, and age was just a number.” Miranda felt embarrassed, thinking back on how silly she’d been. “He moved away, and our little town was suddenly without any interesting boys whatsoever. In fact, there was an absolute dearth of young men for years on end. That made it easier to leave when Parker suggested coming here.”

  “So, you haven’t seen him in all this time, and now you’re meeting up here? That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Miranda shook her head. “I doubt there’s anything romantic about it. He’s here to work with Pastor Osbourne—he’s not thinking about romance, and I don’t know if I still like him. I would hope that my tastes have changed somewhat since I was twelve—it would be rather a shame if they haven’t.”

  Emma laughed. “Well, I for one am going to be watching this quite eagerly.”

  “I doubt there will be anything to watch.”

  “And I doubt your doubting. Haven’t you heard? The Brody is a magical place for finding true love.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard, but that doesn’t mean it will hold true for me. I’m much too ornery to fall in love—men like docile women, don’t they?”

  “Maybe some do, but not all.” Emma gave her a knowing look. “I think your time has come, Miss Monroe.”

  “I’m going to pretend we didn’t have this conversation. It’s making me all jittery,” Miranda replied.

  Emma laughed, shaking her head.

  They returned to the dining room and joined the waitresses in stripping the tables and preparing for the next meal. Miranda forced herself to move from task to task with her usual efficiency, but she’d be lying to herself if she pretended that she wasn’t thinking about Richard and what Emma had said. Seeing him again would be good for her—it would help settle her nerves and confirm that her feelings for him had changed. In the meantime, she’d just have to live with it u
ntil her afternoon break—which seemed like hours upon hours away.

  When they entered the kitchen to wash the dishes, Giselle asked them to gather around for a few minutes first. Miranda noticed that all the waitresses were there, even the ones who weren’t on shift.

  “We need to talk about the holidays—they’re coming up fast,” Giselle said, standing at the head of the table. “Mr. Brody has asked for special meals on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day. We finally have enough waitresses to cover all the shifts, but we may need to do some overlapping. Now, that’s four nice menus we’ll be putting together—we won’t be repeating any of them because people from town like to join us, and we don’t want them to be disappointed with a lack of variety if they decide to come for more than one of the meals.”

  “Have you already planned the menu?” Kate asked quietly. She did everything quietly. Miranda was starting to wonder if the girl was even capable of raising her voice over a mere whisper.

  “Ruth and I worked out some basic ideas, but we’d love your input too,” Sarah replied. She paused to stretch her back, then handed a sheet of paper around for the girls to look over. “We only have a few days, so we need to decide what we’d like so we can get all the supplies we’ll need.”

  “My grandmother always made an English trifle,” Josie contributed. “It has cream and fruit and cake arranged in layers.”

  “That sounds nice,” Sarah said. “Will you show us how to make it?”

  Josie nodded, then fell silent again.

  Kate, Josie, and Callie had all been hired around the same time as Miranda, and they were as different from her as could ever be imagined. Miranda was too outspoken for her own good, and her thoughts were likely to be on the sarcastic side even when she was trying to behave herself. They looked like scared rabbits, afraid to share their opinions at all. Josie seemed to be their leader, if there was one, and even at that, she didn’t speak up often. Emma had conjectured that they were running from something, and Miranda supposed that might be true. Was anyone that withdrawn if they didn’t have some sort of darkness in their pasts?