The Calm of Night (Kansas Crossroads Book 10) Read online

  The Calm of Night

  Kansas Crossroads Book Ten

  by Amelia C. Adams

  Dedicated to all those who know the way will be hard—and they do it anyway.

  I’d like to thank Jackie Godbey Carman, who lent me her ancestor’s name to use for my heroine and chose the cover image; Jessica Chappell, who titled the book; Cissie Patterson, who told me Kansas really needed a storm; and author Marsha Ward, an expert on the Civil War, who let me pick her brain.

  As always, thanks to my beta readers, who catch the things that slip past me—Caryn, Catherine, Erin, Jeene, Jennifer, Mary, Meisje, Nancy A., Nancy C., Renee, Tammy, and Tracy.

  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

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  Nancy Ann Morgan was not in the slightest bit amused. She had just taken a step across the snow-covered ground outside the Brody Hotel, and her foot had broken through the icy crust and plunged her down into a puddle. Worst of all, she couldn’t pull her foot out—she was stuck.

  “Tom?” she called, hoping the handyman was nearby, but the wind had picked up, and she doubted anyone could hear her at all. It looked like her rescue was up to her. She remembered reading a story years ago about a fox caught in a trap—it gnawed off its own foot to get to safety. Of course she’d do no such thing, but there did seem to be some similarities in their situations.

  “Miss Morgan?”

  She heard a man’s voice behind her and tried to turn to see who it was, but all she could manage was a glance over her shoulder. “Oh, hello, Mr. Hancock.” It was the handsome young teller from the bank. Of course the person to catch her in this predicament would be handsome.

  “I beg your pardon, but are you stuck?”

  She glanced back and gave him an impish look. “Me? Of course not. I often throw myself into snow holes for my own amusement. Keeps the wits sharp, you see. Survival practice and whatnot.”

  “Well, at the risk of interrupting your entertainment, may I offer you a hand?”

  “Oh, I suppose. If you must.”

  Mr. Hancock came around and held out his arm. She grasped it and was able to lean forward and wrench her foot free. “Thank you,” she said once she’d regained her balance on solid ground. “I’m glad you came along—I don’t know how long I would have had to wait.”

  “Actually, I’m not here entirely by accident.” He reached into the pocket of his overcoat. “I was at the post office just now, and Mrs. Jenkins felt terrible—she’d forgotten to give you one of your letters. I told her I’d catch up to you and deliver it.” He handed it over with a flourish. “I realize I’m not an authorized representative of the United States Postal Service, but considering the ice and mud on the roads, perhaps you’ll forgive Mrs. Jenkins for it.”

  Nancy Ann took it from him and smiled. “Thank you—that was very kind. Would you like to come in for some pie and coffee? Sarah always keeps a pot on the stove.”

  “I’d love to, but I’m actually due back at the bank. May I stop by another time?”

  “Of course. Please do—I owe you.”

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Then I’ll plan on it. Good day, Miss Morgan.”

  “And to you, Mr. Hancock.”

  He turned and walked back the way he’d come, picking his steps carefully to avoid the most obvious mud holes. Nancy Ann watched him for a moment before she turned and went inside, desperate to change her sopping boots.

  She’d noticed Mr. Hancock the very first time she’d ever entered the bank in Topeka. Mr. Brody had given her a generous paycheck, and she was eager to begin putting away some savings. The bank had been particularly busy that day, but Mr. Hancock had called her over to his desk and seen to her situation personally. His dark hair swooped over his forehead very attractively, and she’d spent more time than she ought to have done staring at his warm brown eyes. Yes, she had most certainly noticed him, and now he’d pulled her out of a hole. He might as well have let her drown in it—she was so embarrassed.

  She climbed the stairs to the attic room where all the live-in waitresses slept and pulled off her boots. Her stockings were wet too. Shaking her head, she pulled everything off and then put on fresh, dry things, thankful she’d taken Elizabeth’s advice and purchased a second pair of shoes with her first set of wages. She was ready just as the whistle blew for the next train.

  After scurrying down the stairs and greeting the customers as they came in, she threw herself into the flurry of a typical meal at the hotel, trying with all her might to forget about that dimple in Mr. Hancock’s cheek. It seemed, though, that the harder she tried, the more impossible it became.

  ***

  “You seem rather jolly this afternoon,” Mr. Greening said, pausing at Timothy’s desk. “It seems your walk to the post office did you some good.”

  “I think it did. I might have to get out and explore Topeka a bit more,” Timothy replied.

  “I agree. That would help you connect with the people of the community as well. Get to know them, shake their hands, and when they come to the bank, they’ll trust that you’re taking good care of their money.” Mr. Greening slapped him on the back. “Good work, son. Good work.”

  Timothy hid a smile as his boss walked away. All he’d done was take a letter to the hotel, something he’d been more than happy to do. Miss Morgan was an unforgettable kind of girl. She was beautiful, no doubt—clouds of dark hair, alabaster skin. He’d seen more than one man turn to take a second look when she walked down the street. But there was something about her, an underlying fire and spark, that intrigued him, and he wanted to discover what made her so very unique.

  The door to the bank opened, and Dr. Pettigrew walked in. Snow dotted the shoulders of his coat. Timothy held back a groan—he so wished the snow would end. “Afternoon, sir,” he said. “Looks like the weather has decided to take another turn.”

  “It has, and it’s glorious. There’s nothing I love more than a good storm. Have you ever noticed how still the world becomes, how silent? Even the horse hooves are muted. It’s a marvelous thing.” Dr. Pettigrew beamed. “I’m here to make a deposit, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.” Timothy unlocked the door of the teller cage, stepped inside, and locked it behind himself. Truth be told, he should have taken up that position as soon as he returned from his walk, but he didn’t like feeling trapped. “How much would you like to deposit today?”

  He accepted Dr. Pettigrew’s money, did the necessary paperwork, and bid the man a cheerful good-bye. Then he craned his neck to see outside through the window. He couldn’t make out much beyond the gray sky, but that was enough—despite all his wishing, the storm would continue.

  It was enough to make him wonder why he’d ever come to Kansas in the first place.

  Chapter Two

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the dining room so empty.” Giselle dumped her armload of table linens into the laundry basket and leaned up against the table. “This weather is keeping people from traveling.”

  “Well, I say it was nice to have a break,” Grace replied.

  Nancy Ann looked up from scrubbing the dishes. “I overheard Mr. Brody say this storm’s expected to last for several more days. Do you think that’s true?” She hoped not. It had been so long since she’d seen the blue sky, sh
e was sure she was going to lose her mind.

  “I don’t see how anyone can predict the weather. My grandmother used to claim that her joints would ache when it was about to rain, but her joints ached all the time, so really, who could tell the difference?” Giselle turned to Sarah. “Enough of all this depressing talk. We have a wedding to prepare! Is your cousin coming?”

  Sarah grinned. “Yes, I got a telegram this morning. She’s bringing her whole family, and they’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “What about Stephen’s family?” Nancy Ann felt a little embarrassed about asking. Things between the groom and his family were tense at best, and perhaps this was none of her business.

  “Gilbert’s coming, but no, Stephen’s parents won’t be here.” Sarah covered a leftover pie with a clean dish towel and set it on the shelf. Leftover pie was also something they didn’t see often at the hotel—Nancy Ann hoped they wouldn’t lose money because of the weather.

  “At least he’ll have his brother,” Grace said.

  “His brother . . . yes. That will be interesting.” Sarah wiped her hands, then took off her apron and tossed it on the ever-growing laundry pile. “I think Gilbert and I have mostly made our peace, but we’ll see.”

  “Watching all the intrigue at this wedding may be better than reading a novel,” Grace said with a smile.

  Adam Brody and his wife, Elizabeth, stepped into the kitchen just then. Mr. Brody leaned against the doorframe, looking tired. “I’ve added up the day’s receipts, and we only did a third of our usual business. This being our first winter, I didn’t realize how much the weather would affect our bottom line, but the fact is, the railroad is our greatest source of income, and people don’t want to travel in this kind of cold.”

  “But we don’t mean to alarm you,” Elizabeth was quick to add. “During the summer when business was good, Adam put quite a lot in savings. We’ll simply make that a habit—saving up during the good times for when things are lean.”

  “We just won’t have our local waitresses come in as often,” Mr. Brody went on. “I know that will be all right with the Appleby girls—their mother has been ill, so their father needs them to help at the general store.”

  Nancy Ann appreciated how her employer spoke to them—like they were all equals, working together to keep the hotel going. He’d given them positions of trust and responsibility, and for the most part, they lived up to his expectations.

  “I’ve already adjusted tomorrow’s menu,” Sarah said. “I haven’t spoken to Ruth about it yet, but I will.”

  “Perfect.” Mr. Brody gave a nod. “Thank you. Well, carry on—and shouldn’t I be smelling a wedding cake in the oven about now?”

  Nancy Ann hid her smile. Mr. Brody was very fond of cake.

  “I’ll do that tomorrow,” Sarah replied. “And I’ll make extra.”

  “Good. Good.” He nodded once more, then left the kitchen.

  Elizabeth watched him go with a smile on her face. Then she turned back to the girls. “Nancy Ann, you have just one guest upstairs tonight?”

  “That’s right—a Mr. Collins. I put him in room two because it has a fireplace. Of course, that’s where we’ll be putting Sarah’s cousin tomorrow night, but Mr. Collins is leaving in the morning.” When Margaret left the hotel, Nancy Ann had been put in charge of the rooms, and she loved it. As the oldest in a large family, she was very used to this sort of thing, but here, she was actually appreciated. She brushed the thoughts of home aside. That was her past—it was time to concentrate on the present.

  After the bustle of nightly chores quieted down, Nancy Ann knelt on the window seat upstairs in the girls’ dormitory and stared out into the swirling mass of white. “Come on,” she said under her breath. “I need the sun.”

  ***

  Nancy Ann almost dropped her tray when she heard the squeals coming from the hotel lobby. Catching it just in time and setting it on a table, she trotted down the hallway, expecting to see that a mouse had come wandering in from the cold, but instead she saw the first of the train passengers. They had to be Sarah’s family, from the way she was hugging them.

  A tall young man stood off to the side and back a bit—she guessed that was Gilbert, the groom’s brother. She’d heard some interesting stories about him—the previous summer, when Sarah was visiting Denver, she and Gilbert had gone on some outings together, and his parents had assumed they were betrothed. There had been a big scandal, as Sarah wasn’t considered good enough for Gilbert, and Gilbert himself had disavowed her in front of a whole room full of society snobs. Thankfully, his brother, Stephen, was in her corner, and now Sarah and Stephen were getting married. There was a happy ending after all, but knowing this history, Nancy Ann wasn’t too eager to make Gilbert’s acquaintance. She moved back into the dining room and picked up her tray, trusting that all the introductions would take place later.

  Stephen Howard, the man Sarah was to marry, arrived just a few minutes after that, bringing with him Mrs. Clasby, Sarah’s aunt. It was a very merry family reunion, and the waitresses moved a few tables so they could all sit together.

  As soon as the meal service was over, just as she thought, Sarah introduced everyone all around—Felicity, her cousin, and her husband, John, plus their four children. Gilbert Howard sat with his arms folded across his chest, looking a bit out of sorts, but when Nancy Ann asked if she could refill his coffee, he answered pleasantly enough.

  “No, thank you. But I would like another slice of apple pie, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. I’ll be right back.”

  Nancy Ann moved into the kitchen, where Ruth was busy putting away the leftover food. “I need one more apple pie, please, for Stephen’s good-looking brother.”

  Ruth looked up with a smile. “Is that how you’re going to deliver food orders from now on? You need some pot roast for the handsome fellow in the corner, and some cornbread for the toothless old man by the door?”

  Nancy Ann laughed. “It would liven things up around here. But don’t you think he’s handsome?”

  Ruth shrugged. “I haven’t seen him. I’ve been in the kitchen this whole time. I’m one of the cooks, remember? I prepare the food that you waitress persons deliver?”

  Nancy Ann decided to ignore her sarcasm. “Go peek out the door.”

  Ruth shook her head. “I’m not going to peek out the door. How childish.”

  “Then go start clearing table linens. That’s got to be done anyway, and it’s a perfectly legitimate excuse to go out there.”

  “Fine. I’ll go out there and sneak a peek at this man, but handsome or not, I know I’m not going to like him. After those stories Sarah told about him . . .”

  “There’s nothing wrong with appreciating what someone looks like. That doesn’t mean we have to become best friends with him or anything.” Nancy Ann took the plate of pie from Ruth’s outstretched hand and went back out to the dining room, where she slid the food in front of the handsome man in question. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her a nod.

  Sarah’s family had taken three of the tables on the far side of the room and were still visiting, but the rest of the tables needed to be stripped and reset. Giselle, as the manager of the dining room, was overseeing this task, and Nancy Ann stepped in to help. A moment later, Ruth came out of the kitchen, grabbed one tablecloth, glanced at Gilbert Howard, and then went back into the kitchen. Nancy Ann stifled a chuckle at her friend’s obvious attempt not to be . . . well, obvious.

  After a few more minutes had gone by, Sarah’s family said they’d like to be shown to their rooms. Ideally, they would have stayed with Mrs. Clasby, but her new home was quite small, and she couldn’t take in the group.

  “We prepared your rooms fresh this morning, so if you’ll follow me, please?” Nancy Ann said, gesturing toward the staircase in the lobby.

  As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she noticed that Gilbert Howard was right behind her. “How was your journey, Mr. Howar
d?”

  “Not too unpleasant, but chilly. The winter air seeped into the passenger car, and we were all quite glad we’d dressed warmly.”

  “Well, we try to keep the hotel toasty, so with any luck, you’ll be comfortable while you’re here,” she said. She paused in front of room one. “Here you are.”

  He glanced inside at the single bed, dresser, and washbasin. “This looks adequate. Thank you . . . I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

  “Nancy Ann Morgan.” What did he mean by “adequate”? Was it a compliment or a slight?

  “Miss Morgan. Thank you for your attentiveness.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Howard.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “You already know my name?”

  Completely flustered, she replied, “Sarah told us who all would be coming, and I presumed . . . and you resemble your brother . . .”

  His smile grew. “Yes, we do look a lot alike. You mustn’t mind me—I’m prone to teasing. And the room looks very nice indeed.”

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable.” She gave him a nod and stepped away only to see that everyone else in the family had backed up in the hall, unable to get past, and they were all watching the exchange.

  “Well, now! Let’s get the rest of you settled, shall we?” With her cheeks flaming, she opened the door to room two for Sarah’s cousin and her family.

  Once everyone was safely tucked away for the night, the waitresses climbed the stairs to their attic room, and Ruth chuckled.

  “What?” Nancy Ann asked.

  “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” Ruth turned down the corner of her blankets, pretending nonchalance.

  “Just say it. I know you’re dying to.”

  “All right. I think you’re smitten with Mr. Howard.”

  Every girl in the room turned and stared at Nancy Ann, waiting for her answer. She glanced over at Sarah, who seemed particularly interested, before she said, “I think he’s handsome, but that’s not enough reason to become smitten.”