The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17) Page 3

  “That’s right,” Ruth said. “We need to take equal turns when it comes to feeling sorry for ourselves.”

  They both laughed. “So, what are we going to do about it?” Nora asked.

  “We’re going to stay positive, we’re going to find the joy in every day, and when opportunities arise, we’ll take them,” Ruth replied. Going back to work for Mr. Barker was not an opportunity, and she would not be taking it. Something else would come along, or she’d go looking until she found it. She was already reading the advertisements in the newspaper, but nothing appropriate had been posted yet. “And I’m going to put the final touches on this cake and go to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Yes, we do,” Nora said. She stood, but paused. “Do you need anything? Can I help?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be up in a bit.”

  Ruth turned her attention back to the cake, but she did feel a prickle on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She didn’t mind being alone in the kitchen at the Brody, but since they’d been talking about Higgins, she felt like she was back at the Lazy Q, and her hands started to shake a little bit. That wasn’t good when she was doing something so detailed. Maybe she should have asked Nora to stay so she wouldn’t be alone.

  Her nerves had all but gotten the better of her when the kitchen door swung open and Mr. Brody came in. Ruth almost dropped her knife, but then realized who it was and recovered.

  “You’re still up, Ruth? My goodness. The cake looks wonderful.”

  “I sure hope so. I’ve been at it for hours.”

  “Miranda will be so pleased. I hope you don’t mind—I’m manning the desk tonight, and I just came in for some coffee.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. You won’t be in my way at all.”

  Mr. Brody poured himself a cup from the pot on the stove, then added some sugar. “I’m glad for this chance to speak with you, Ruth—you seemed a little upset this afternoon, and I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  Ruth almost chuckled. She’d had so many people checking on her, she could line them up end to end and circle the hotel with them. “I’m fine, but thank you.” She paused, then decided to tell him more. “The man who was here—and who’s now staying here—is Mr. Barker’s brother. From the Lazy Q.”

  Mr. Brody knew the story, and his eyebrow raised. “He’s not cut from the same cloth, is he?”

  “I don’t think so, but I just had some unpleasant memories. I’m better now.”

  Mr. Brody gave a nod. “I’m glad to hear it. If you need the man removed from the premises, just let me know.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Mr. Brody took his cup back out to the front desk with him, and Ruth returned to her cake. “And that’s how you’re supposed to treat someone when they come to you with a concern,” she said to herself, throwing her knife into the frosting bowl with just a bit more emphasis than was really needed.

  When she went upstairs a short time later, she found all the girls gathered around Miranda’s bed, laughing and talking. It was these moments she both loved and dreaded—the sharing of confidences, but knowing this would be the last time with this particular friend. Starting tomorrow, Miranda would be Mrs. Norton, and she wouldn’t be sharing their room or working alongside them anymore. She’d be keeping house in the cute little home Richard had been able to buy for them on his limited salary.

  “I don’t know how to be a pastor’s wife, but Olivia has promised to teach me everything she knows,” Miranda was saying as Ruth entered the room. “She says there’s a lot of smiling and nodding involved, and even more keeping your mouth shut.”

  “I can believe it,” Carrie said. “And that’s why I’d be terrible at it. I can’t keep my mouth shut for anything.”

  “Neither can I, but she says I’ll learn,” Miranda replied. She looked over and saw Ruth. “I hear you’ve made me the cake of the century.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the century, but at least the decade.” Ruth sat down on the edge of her bed and began to take off her shoes. “I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love it. You’re so creative.” Miranda smiled, but then grew serious again. “I just wish it didn’t mean that I was leaving.”

  “I think it’s best that you’re leaving. We couldn’t have Richard moving in here with us,” Emma pointed out, and they all laughed.

  Ruth thought about her friend’s wedding while she changed for bed. Miranda had refused Richard at first. She’d found herself at odds with religion, and he represented things she couldn’t accept. But they loved each other, and they had agreed to take it a step at a time and discuss all her concerns with open minds. Now she was marrying him without reservation. Her belief in God hadn’t been fully restored yet, but she was feeling much more settled in it, and Ruth had no doubt that she and Richard would continue to compromise and communicate as they worked through the rest. And that’s what would make their marriage a success.

  The girls turned out their lamps and climbed into bed, but they kept talking late into the night until they drifted off to sleep one by one. Ruth rolled onto her side and tried to fall asleep as well, but her thoughts were too jumbled. She would wake up in the morning and help finish the preparations for the wedding, and then they would go over to the church for the actual ceremony. That’s where her focus should be, not allowing herself to revisit everything that had happened that day. She already knew that looking backwards was a waste of time, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to do it now.

  ***

  The first train of the day had been served, and the dining room was clean and ready to go. Tom and Harriet would stay behind at the hotel to watch over things while the rest of them went over to the church for the wedding ceremony. While Ruth felt bad that they wouldn’t be able to attend, she was grateful they were making the sacrifice so everyone else could be there.

  Each of the waitresses had put on one of their spring dresses, and they carried stems of purple larkspur. Miranda’s dress was simple, yet beautiful—it had been her mother’s, and the girls had helped her with the small amount of altering it had needed to fit her perfectly. Now as she clasped hands with Richard at the head of the chapel, she looked so radiantly happy, Ruth could almost forgive her for falling in love and going away—almost.

  Pastor Osbourne delivered a beautiful message about marriage, his eyes twinkling as he looked down on the two of them. “It’s my firm belief that God put men and women together to bring about the happiest organization there can be on the earth—that of the family,” he said. “Always remember the path that brought you here, and be grateful for what you have learned about yourselves and about each other along the way. You will continue to encounter trials, for that is the nature of life, but as you cling to each other and to the Lord, you will weather any storm.”

  Then he paused and glanced at his pocket watch. “I’m told there’s another train coming shortly, so I’d better hurry this along.” Everyone laughed, and he had Richard and Miranda married within the next thirty seconds.

  When they returned to the hotel, the girls laid out the simple meal they’d prepared for their train passengers in the dining room, then began to carry the food for the wedding reception outside to the tented area Tom had created in the backyard. They couldn’t turn their customers away for the sake of a party, but they could certainly work in a party alongside a meal service.

  The waitresses were kept busy going back and forth from group to group, seeing to the needs of their customers while also seeing to the guests at the reception. Ruth caught sight of Alex Barker in the center of the melee, looking a bit confused as to where he should be. She wanted to ignore him and pretend he wasn’t even there, but it wasn’t in her nature to allow someone to feel lost, so she approached him. “May I help you, Mr. Barker?”

  “Yes, please. I’m not sure where I should be eating. Where do guests of the hotel belong?”

  “I’d suggest you stay in the dining room. We’r
e doing more of an actual meal in here, whereas outside we’re doing desserts only.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He nodded, but then added, “You look very nice this morning, Miss Barnes.”

  “Thank you. I rather enjoy a day off from wearing my black work dress.” She glanced down at her lavender sprigged muslin, then back up. “I’d best be going. The bacon and eggs won’t wait for me much longer.”

  The train passengers were soon fed and on their way, and Ruth was able to step outside and stay there, milling around between the wedding guests and overhearing their happy chatter. They all agreed that Richard and Miranda were a fine couple, and that Richard had come into his own as a pastor. They were even wondering when he’d receive his own pulpit, and that made Ruth’s heart pound a little faster. In order for him to gain his own pulpit, he’d have to move, and that would mean taking Miranda away. That hadn’t been the plan at all, but Ruth wasn’t in charge of Miranda’s life, and things weren’t likely to go her way anyway.

  A gust of wind picked up, making the tent flap, and Ruth looked up at the sky. Some clouds were starting to roll in, and she scowled. She’d always heard that rain on a wedding day was good luck, but she didn’t think that counted when the celebration was being held outside.

  “Can you pray for the rain to hold off a few hours?” she asked Pastor Osbourne when he came over to refill his punch glass.

  “I’ve already started,” he responded with a chuckle. “But you never know—God might be trying to bless us with this extra moisture.”

  “You do enjoy taking God’s side in things, don’t you?”

  “It’s really the only side to be on. He’s the smart one, after all.”

  Ruth smiled and shook her head. “Of course. I just don’t want this wedding ruined.”

  “I don’t think God does, either. I have the feeling He’s been waiting a while for this one.” He motioned over toward Richard and Miranda, who were chatting with their guests.

  Ruth sighed. “All right, I’ll try to be patient about it. But if my cake gets wet . . .”

  The pastor held up a hand. “If it starts to rain, I will personally pick up the cake and move it inside. I hereby consider it my assigned duty.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  As the day played out, it was time to cut the cake before any rain started to fall, so that was one crisis averted. Everyone was impressed by Ruth’s workmanship, and she received several compliments.

  “You could open your own bakery,” Mrs. Squires, a member of the congregation, told her, giving her arm a squeeze. “You shouldn’t hide your talents under a bushel, my dear. Not that the hotel is a bushel, but I imagine you don’t get to make pretty things like this very often.”

  “No, I don’t, and I definitely enjoy it,” Ruth replied. She’d tossed the idea of a bakery around in her mind several times, as well as owning her own restaurant, but it all came back to the same complication each time—the lack of funding. She had a tidy nest egg because the hotel paid well and she didn’t have many expenses, but she definitely hadn’t saved enough to start up an enterprise.

  “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing.”

  Ruth looked up and saw Mrs. Norton, Richard’s aunt, at her elbow. She hadn’t met the woman yet, but knew she was staying at the hotel for the wedding. His uncle hadn’t come, stating that he was busy with work.

  “That’s all right, Mrs. Norton. May I help you with something?”

  The woman smiled. “You’re the baker who created this wonderful cake?”

  “Yes, I am. My name is Ruth Barnes.”

  “I’m Penelope Norton, Richard’s aunt, as you probably know. And by the strangest coincidence, I’ve been looking for a new cook for over a month. We live in a lovely home in Kansas City, where I’m on the board of various charities. It seems I’m constantly holding dinner parties or luncheons, and I’d be delighted to offer you the position, if you’re interested.”

  Ruth blinked. Kansas City? She’d passed through on her way to Topeka, and it was the largest city she’d ever seen. She could imagine what a socialite luncheon would look like there—she’d have the opportunity to make dainty cakes and pastries to her heart’s content, and she’d have greater access to plays and concerts . . . So many thoughts were racing through her head, she almost forgot to reply.

  “That’s a lovely offer, Mrs. Norton, but are you sure? You don’t know a thing about me—I could make off with your silver in the middle of the night.”

  The woman laughed merrily. “The fact that you’re bringing it up tells me you’re not the sort, and I can’t imagine this hotel hiring anyone who wasn’t of the highest moral caliber. I can see that I’ve surprised you, though. I tell you what—I’ll be here for two more days. Think it over and ask me any questions you like before you make your decision, all right?”

  She moved off before Ruth could respond.

  “My goodness.” Ruth had forgotten that Mrs. Squires was still standing there. “That’s quite the compliment, don’t you think? What will you do, Ruth?”

  “I have no idea.” And she wouldn’t be able to think about it until after the conclusion of the wedding reception and the meal for the next train. Then, and only then, would she have a few quiet minutes to sort through her thoughts.

  She headed back inside to get more clean cups for the punch, and while she was loading up her tray, Margaret came into the kitchen and leaned on the counter.

  “It’s a success,” she said, giving Ruth a smile. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things from the guests.”

  “Everyone helped—it wasn’t just me,” Ruth protested.

  “They helped, but it was largely you.” Margaret picked up a dishtowel and wiped at a crumb on the counter. “I know you’re terribly busy, but could you spare me a minute later? I need to talk to you.”

  Ruth nodded. She’d been sparing a lot of minutes lately—a few more couldn’t hurt. “After the next train, all right? Or do you need to leave sooner than that?”

  “Wade wants to get back to the ranch before nightfall, but that should be fine.”

  “Let’s meet in the parlor after the meal service, then. I’m off shift once the food is served, and I plan to put my feet up and not move for at least an hour.”

  “That does sound wonderful. I’ll see you then.”

  As Ruth carried the tray outside and placed it next to the punch bowl, she wondered what Margaret wanted to discuss. She looked concerned about something, and that made Ruth worry because Margaret was usually the sort to take things in stride. If she was concerned, that meant something was going on.

  Chapter Four

  Alex finished reading the newspaper, then decided to walk around a bit and stretch his legs. While he wasn’t an invited wedding guest per se, he didn’t see anything wrong with strolling the grounds, and he was greeted warmly by Mrs. Brody when he stepped outside.

  “Have you had a slice of cake?” she asked. “Ruth truly outdid herself.”

  “No, I haven’t,” he replied. “It does look delicious.”

  She handed him a plate with a generous slice. “It looks like there will be plenty left over, so don’t be shy if you’d like more.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her a nod, then turned to survey the party while he ate. As he expected, he was surrounded by strangers—the only people he knew were Wade, Margaret, and of course Miss Barnes, who was floating from spot to spot making sure the food was restocked and everyone was comfortable.

  He gripped the edge of his plate to keep his hands from shaking as he remembered his conversation with Jeb the day before. He wasn’t an angry man by nature, but it seemed that the things that infuriated him the most were being tested sorely, and he shook his head. His grandmother would say this was God’s way of teaching him to rise above his nature. Perhaps that was true. Whatever the cause of it, yes, he most certainly did need to rise above it.


  He finished his cake and was contemplating another serving when Miss Barnes approached, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hello, Mr. Barker,” she said. “Have you gotten enough to eat?”

  “I might accept another slice of cake, if there’s enough to go around.”

  “There is.” She picked up the knife and cut him a slice nearly as large as the first had been. “I’m glad for a moment to speak with you. I feel we ended things rather awkwardly yesterday, and as you’ll be staying here at the hotel, I think it’s best if we put that aside.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “I’m glad. That will make your stay here more enjoyable.”

  Her words were kind, but she held a professional reserve, and he knew she didn’t feel comfortable speaking with him. She was just doing what she must to create a civil work atmosphere for herself, and he could understand that. “If there’s anything else I can do . . .” he offered, but he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. What exactly could he say?

  “That’s all right, Mr. Barker. We’ll get along quite well, and you’ll have pleasant memories of the Brody Hotel to carry away with you. Oh, it looks like we’re nearly out of punch again. Please excuse me.”

  She whisked away as quickly as she’d come, and he stood there, holding his cake and feeling helpless. He wished he possessed the magic to wipe away the injustices that had been done to her. Instead, all he could do was eat cake.

  He’d received a telegram informing him that the sale of the ranch to Wade Watkins had gone through, and once Wade had finished his conversation with a few of the guests on the far side of the lawn, Alex would approach and give him the good news. Then he’d catch the train the next morning. He had some business dealings in Denver to resolve, and then he’d be on his way to Sacramento. It seemed he wouldn’t be home much that spring, but his work would profit him nicely, and he might even consider opening up an office here in the west.

  Although perhaps he wouldn’t, now that he knew what sort of man his brother was. He didn’t want to spend any more time in Jeb’s vicinity than he absolutely had to.