If the Prospect Pleases Read online

  He nodded as he kept working. “And I suppose you’re wondering if you still have a job.”

  “No, not. . .exactly. I’ve decided to. . .seek employment elsewhere.”

  He stopped his ministrations and stood to his feet, eyeing her with that piercing gaze she had once considered annoying. Now it seemed different somehow. Challenging. Un-nerving. And with Lucas towering over her, Annora felt more vulnerable. It was all she could do to ignore the jittering that started up in her stomach and slowly made its way down to her knees. She knew that if she dared look into his eyes for more than a second or two, he’d discover the depth of her true feelings.

  “That’s why I’ve come to speak to you,” she blurted before she changed her mind. “I would like someone to drive me into town later today so I can make other arrangements.” She ventured moving her gaze upward from his middle shirt button so she could make out his expression.

  “This is what you want?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as if reading her thoughts.

  Annora’s first impulse was to say no, but honesty was the last thing she could afford right now. Even if she were positive it was natural for brothers to come to blows occasionally—and she couldn’t imagine such a thing—just knowing she had been the cause of the rift in this family was unforgivable. It must never happen again. “It’s what I’ve decided. I do believe the implied agreement was that either of us could nullify the arrangement.”

  “That’s news to me. But if it’s what you want, I’ll see that you get there.”

  His swift acquiescence caught her off guard. What had she been hoping for—his flat refusal? An argument, at least? She gave herself a mental shake. “Thank you. I’ll go and start packing.”

  He gave a noncommittal nod and resumed his earlier task.

  But as she turned and walked away, Annora felt a marked change in the atmosphere, and she was aware of his eyes staring after her. She couldn’t afford to dwell on what he must be thinking of her. . .not when so much of her concentration was being used just to keep her legs going.

  Informing Melinda and Amy of her decision was even harder. The pair spied her through her open doorway in mid-afternoon, after Annora lugged her trunk atop her cot and began filling it with her belongings.

  The hoop Melinda had been rolling fell to the ground, and she charged into the lean-to, her little sister a mere step behind. “Hey! What are you doin’, Miss Annora?”

  “I. . .um, have to go away.”

  “You mean, to visit somebody?” Amy wanted to know.

  Annora shook her head and continued folding garments and stacking them in neat piles. “No. I mean, I’m leaving and going someplace else.”

  “But–but—” Even as the six-year-old’s eyes swam with tears, she swiped them away in anger, her lower lip quivering. “I thought you loved us.”

  “I do, sweetheart. I love both of you very, very much.”

  “Then why are you leavin’?” she insisted.

  “Who will take care of us?” Amy whimpered.

  Knowing she should not have expected to escape easily from this heart-stopping pair, Annora sighed and quit packing. She gathered the girls into her arms and sat down on the foot of her bed with one youngster on either side of her. “When I first came here, it was only for a short time. You know, a trial. None of us expected it to be forever. Well, now my time is up, so I’ll be moving on. Your pa will take care of you again, he and your uncle Noah. And you’ve both become such good helpers, I’m sure that with all four of you working together, you won’t have a problem keeping everything looking clean and nice. You’ll see.”

  Amy turned her eyes up to Annora. “But we don’t want you to go away—like our mama. We want you to stay and live here with us.”

  “Well, we can’t always have things the way we want them,” Annora began.

  “You mean, you don’t want to stay,” Melinda accused, her eyes brimming again.

  “No, that is not what I mean,” Annora said gently, brushing some stray dark hairs out of the child’s face. “The fact is, the time has come for me to do what’s right. For everyone.”

  Melinda hiked her chin. “It doesn’t seem right to me. Or fair, either. Not when we need you.”

  “I’m truly sorry you feel that way, sweetheart,” Annora said softly, “but I’m afraid this is how it must be.”

  “Then. . .then. . .just. . .go!” Melinda railed between clenched teeth as she sprang to her feet. “You don’t love us, and. . .and. . .I wish you never ever came here!” And with that, she bolted from the room in tears.

  Amy didn’t say a word. She stared reproachfully up at Annora for a few seconds before going rigid and pulling free. Then she stomped out of the lean-to with one scathing glance backward.

  Yes, I do love you, my darlings, Annora’s heart called after them in silence. But you’re not the only ones I love. . .and that is the problem. Her own eyes smarted, but she determinedly blinked back the tears. Hard as it was to deal with the way Lucas’s daughters were hurting, maybe it was all for the best. They had gone somewhere by themselves to sulk. They were angry now—and perhaps feeling somewhat betrayed—but eventually they would get over it. At least she wouldn’t have to tear herself away from two little girls who were sobbing their hearts out in a wrenching scene she’d never be able to erase from her memory.

  She had not been packed for long before Lucas rapped at her door. “The wagon’s hitched up. So whenever you’re ready—”

  “I’m ready now,” Annora replied, amazed that her voice had not wavered. She opened the door and motioned toward her trunk and valise, then watched as her employer effortlessly hefted the ungainly travel chest to his shoulder. She donned the bonnet that matched her green traveling ensemble and followed him to the wagon, the handle of her valise held in both hands.

  After Lucas situated the luggage in the wagon bed and handed her up to the seat, Annora searched everywhere for a glimpse of Melinda or Amy, but they were nowhere to be seen. She tried not to let it bother her that the girls were cheating her out of the chance to wave good-bye, to reassure them that things would turn out all right in the end.

  Drawing a stabilizing breath, she relaxed her shoulders and composed herself for departure from the place that had spared her a life of unhappiness back in Philadelphia. Odd, how on the day she had arrived, she had begged Lucas not to make her leave. . .but now, she couldn’t stay even if he asked her to. Fighting tears, she shoved the unwelcome thoughts forcefully from her mind. She would have ample time later for wallowing in self-pity.

  The silence cloaking the drive to Cheyenne was almost unbearable. From the corner of her eye, Annora observed Lucas’s stiff posture. His face was completely blank—and he had yet to say a word.

  That lasted the entire route.

  When they finally came within sight of the town, Annora felt a measure of relief—which quickly faded when Lucas pulled up to the railroad station and stopped.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Buying your fare back East.” He hopped down and went for her baggage.

  “But I don’t want to go there,” she countered, climbing down on her own. “I haven’t enough funds.”

  “Yes, you have. I was supposed to pay your traveling expenses, if you recall. One direction or both, makes no difference to me.”

  “But that’s absurd. I really don’t—”

  He paid her no mind but strode to the ticket window. “The young lady would like to travel to Philadelphia. When’s the next train thereabouts?” he asked the clerk.

  “Can’t get that far east right now,” the man answered, peering over his spectacles. “Bad rains in Ohio. Washed out part of the track bed.”

  “Well, how long till it’s fixed?” Lucas groused.

  “Couple weeks, a month—can’t say for sure.”

  Having overheard the exchange from directly behind Lucas, Annora breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he’d listen to reason now. “I planned to stay at the hotel while I seek another posi
tion,” she announced.

  “Makes more sense for you to come back to the farm while you wait. Then if you’re still set on leaving a couple weeks from now, I won’t stop you.”

  “Lucas, please.” In an effort to keep from tapping her foot in impatience, Annora filled her lungs and then let all the breath out at once. “I’m trying to tell you, it is impossible for me to go back to Philadelphia. There’s no place for me there. Just book me a room at the hotel for now and let me make my own way. Please.”

  He frowned and searched her face.

  “Please,” she repeated.

  “Why does it have to be now, this minute? Can you tell me that?”

  “No, I cannot.”

  “If it’s Noah you’re leery of. . .”

  Annora shook her head emphatically. “This is just something I have to do. I put in the trial month we agreed upon, and now that it’s over, there’s no reason for me to stay. I. . . want to do something different. Something someplace else.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, Annora. I thought you were happy with. . .with us. What am I supposed to tell the girls when I get back home and you’re not with me?”

  “I’ve already spoken to Melinda and Amy, and we said our good-byes. They’ll be fine, in time.”

  He shook his head. But when he opened his mouth as if to speak, no comment emerged. With a sidelong glare, he retrieved her trunk and carried it back to the wagon, then drove her to the hotel. Within a half-hour, he secured a room and brought her baggage upstairs.

  “Well,” he said flatly, “I guess this is it.”

  “Yes.” She feigned the brightest smile she could muster and tossed her bonnet onto the bed. “Thank you for carrying my things up for me.”

  His hat in his hands, he turned it around and around while he stood there in the doorway, looking for all the world as if he had something to say. Only he said nothing.

  “I. . .appreciate your giving me that chance I asked for, Lucas,” Annora finally remarked. “It was rather an. . .adventure, getting to know you and your darling girls.”

  “. . .who are gonna be miserable without you around,” he finished, his gaze a challenge, his expression unfathomable for an uncomfortable moment or more. “Look,” he said with a huff, “if you’re gonna be here for awhile, would it be all right if I bring the girls to visit now and then?”

  Annora wanted that more than anything, but she knew it would only prolong their sadness. Better to make a quick break and let them get on with their lives. She swallowed and shook her head. “It’s best if they let go now,” she said softly.

  He gave a perfunctory nod. “As you wish. Oh.” He reached into the inside pocket of his vest. “Here’s the rest of the money I owe for your travel, or whatever. . .”

  “That’s not necessary, Lucas.”

  “Horsefeathers, Annora!” he exclaimed. “You worked for me. Worked hard. I owe you something for that, and besides, you don’t know when you’ll find another job. You might need this.”

  She could not fault his reasoning. But neither could she bear his presence much longer without falling apart. With all her resolve, she held out her hand.

  Lucas pressed the roll of bills into her palm and closed her fingers around it. When he did not let go right away, her gaze was drawn to his. “Seems hardly sufficient just to say thanks for everything.”

  She moistened her lips, noting the pain in his eyes, wondering if it resulted from more than just the swollen discoloration around one of them. “I was just doing my job,” she said lightly, hating the high pitch of her voice yet amazed she could utter anything at all with him holding her hand in both of his and staring into her very heart and soul.

  His eyes slowly roved her face, finally settling on her lips. Annora’s heart refused to beat for an eternal moment.

  “Well, take care of yourself, y’hear?” he said softly.

  “Y–you, too,” she whispered, starting to tremble inside.

  With a nod and a half-smile, Lucas released his grip, then left, closing the door behind him.

  Annora tried not to watch him drive away. But despite her best intentions, she gravitated to the window before he was even outside. And then the sight of him leaving town was obscured by a veil of tears.

  eighteen

  Annora sat up in her bed at the hotel and struggled to breathe through her stuffy nose. She felt empty. Wasted. She had not wept so hard since the loss of her parents—but then, nothing else in her life had hurt so deeply. . .until now. Her eyes burned, her head ached—aggravated even more by the raucous tinkle of piano music from a few doors down the street, to say nothing of the loud voices coming from everywhere.

  She could not permit her thoughts to drift to the Brent farm, to children who in all likelihood had cried themselves to sleep, or to the dark-haired farmer with the gentle blue eyes who had managed to snag her heart in the short while she had known him. Every time she gave in to those memories, a new rush of tears followed.

  Having turned to God’s Word for the comfort that always sustained her through dark times, Annora was dismayed that her watery eyes couldn’t focus on the words. In despair, she hugged the worn book to her breast and rocked back and forth, imagining the mental picture her father had always painted for her of being held in the arms of God. Somehow that helped. But she had a strong suspicion that pain this intense would take a long, long time to get over.

  Just as she expected, the next morning, the mirror above the washstand revealed the unmistakable marks the endless night had left on her puffy face. Her swollen eyes were rimmed with pink and underscored by dark circles. But like it or not, she had to go on, make plans for her future, however bleak it seemed. She poured cool water from the pitcher into the bowl, washed and changed into a fresh day gown of rust linen, then went downstairs for some coffee.

  “Morning, miss,” the bookish clerk, Jenson Samuels, called from the lobby desk as Annora descended the staircase. “Breakfast is being served in the dining room, if you’re interested.” He indicated a set of open double doors leading from the main hallway.

  “Thank you.” A polite smile was about all Annora could come up with as she followed his directions.

  Even eyes as tired as her own could not help but appreciate the finely laid out accouterments of the spacious room—its rich Oriental carpet and an abundance of matching wooden tables in varied sizes. She surmised that at the evening’s supper hour, with the ornate gasoliers casting a warm glow over the crisp white linens and best china, it must be truly lovely.

  Nodding as she passed the only other occupants, an elderly couple occupying a table in the center of the room, Annora chose a small square one for herself near a window while she waited to be served.

  By midmorning, Annora was feeling more like herself. After her time of Bible reading and prayer, she threw her light shawl about her shoulders and walked the short distance to the church where she’d attended service with Lucas and his daughters. The sight assailed her with memories she could not bear to dwell on, but she hiked her chin and strode purposely up the steps, hoping to find it unlocked for meditation.

  Thankfully, it was. The door squeaked open on its hinges, and she stepped inside.

  “May I help you, miss?” the moon-faced pastor said as he strode toward her from the sanctuary. “Oh. . .Miss Nolan, as I recall.”

  “Yes, thank you for remembering me, Reverend Gardner,” Annora answered, appreciating the kindness in the man’s smile and bearing.

  “What brings you by today, lass? A problem out at the farm? Some needed counsel?”

  “Well, actually, I came by to check your public board. I was hoping to apply for a new position here in town.”

  Obviously puzzled, he ran gnarled fingers through his thinning hair. “You’re no longer employed by Lucas Brent?”

  Annora smiled and shook her head. “No, that was only temporary. I’m looking for something permanent now.”

  “Well. Hmm. I’m afraid I cannot think of anything suitable
among the present notices. You’re more than welcome to look for yourself, of course.” He motioned toward the cluttered board on the opposite side of the vestibule.

  Her heart sinking, Annora stepped toward it, scanning the raft of bulletins pinned every which way before her eyes. All of them seemed to pertain to men. Trail guides, surveyors, ranch hands, railroad workers. . .She exhaled a disappointed breath and turned to leave.

  “Wait a minute,” the minister said, rubbing his chin in thought.

  Annora stopped.

  “Seems a member of my flock did mention something the other day—the manager of the Inter-Ocean Hotel. One of his chambermaids became ill a week or so ago, and he was decrying how shorthanded they are. If you could, perchance, fill in until their regular girl recovers, maybe a position more to your liking might open up for you. Would that be of interest?”

  “It surely would,” Annora replied, feeling hopeful at last. “I happen to be staying there. I’ll go see about it at once. Thank you ever so much!” Resisting the ridiculous urge to kiss the man of the cloth, she bobbed in a quick curtsy instead.

  “And since you’re residing within such close proximity to the church,” he added, a twinkle in his eye, “might I expect to see your bright face among the flock next Lord’s Day?”

  “You just might. Thanks again, Reverend.” With a new spring in her step, Annora took her leave. But before she’d gone half the distance to the hotel, she envisioned herself walking into the sanctuary on any given Sunday and seeing Lucas and the girls. . .seated, no doubt, with a gloating Rosemary Evans. And her spirit crashed to the ground.

  “Well, well,” came the milliner’s voice from the doorway of her shop, as if Annora’s thoughts had caused the woman to materialize. “Shopping again so soon?”

  Annora’s mind had been so occupied with her own matters, she had forgotten to walk on the opposite side of the street, where she’d have been less noticeable. “Miss Evans.” She dipped her bonneted head in a respectful greeting.

  The elegantly clad woman’s hazel eyes swept the street in both directions, likely searching for Lucas and his daughters. “Where is everyone?” Rosemary asked.