What troubled him more than Miss Grimsby’s employment history was his reaction to her. When she’d stood and he’d looked into her eyes, speech had eluded him. Rarely had he encountered a woman that tall. She must be at least six foot, although with her hat the size of Texas, she appeared even taller.
While her height had come as a surprise, what had captivated him was the compassion in her warm brown eyes. Clearly she was a caring person. Rather than rail about the young man who’d almost barreled into her, she’d defended him and shown him kindness, which spoke well of her character. A woman like her should be able to take Luke’s antics in stride.
What had kept Spencer riveted to her had nothing to do with her personality, though. He hated to admit it, but the reason he’d gawked at her like some smitten schoolboy had everything to do with her lovely features, from her delicately arched brows and high cheekbones to her rosy lips lifted in that mesmerizing smile. She was the first woman to capture his attention since he’d lost—
Focus, Abbott. He had no business thinking about another woman. Trudy had only been gone three short months. He was a widower in mourning who’d loved his wife, not a man in search of someone to take her place. Not that anyone could. She’d held a special place in his heart and always would. It must have been loneliness that led his eyes to stray, that’s all.
Well, he was master of his emotions. When Tess Grimsby returned, she’d see a man in control of himself. If he chose to hire her as his housekeeper, he would keep things strictly professional.
* * *
Tess emerged from the hotel wearing her favorite dress, a cobalt-blue calico that matched the three peacock feathers atop her hat. She tugged on her gloves, crossed the busy street and strolled alongside the tracks until she came to the railway station.
The depot was a hive of activity as men prepared for a freight train’s arrival. Drivers seated on sturdy wagons waited for their cargo in front of three warehouses east of the station. Horses whickered and shook their heads to rid themselves of the ever-present flies.
Although the platform was large, the wooden building at the heart of the action was small. Somewhere inside sat the man who would determine her future. Mr. Abbott must hire her. If he didn’t, she’d be forced to return to Sacramento City and pray she found another position before the last of the money in her reticule was gone.
She shook the small handbag dangling from her wrist, the jingle of the few coins inside lacking the reassurance she sought. While Polly had said she and Peter would welcome Tess, she couldn’t impose on them, not when they were expecting a second child soon.
Given her recent dismissal, Tess hadn’t been able to secure another governess position in the city, despite spending two weeks searching for one. Polly’s letter with news of Mr. Abbott’s need had been most fortuitous. If he hired her as his housekeeper and her work pleased him, she’d be able to restore her reputation and replenish her depleted savings.
A bell tinkled as she entered the depot. The man in the ticket cage peered at her through the wrought iron grate and smiled. “Good morning, ma’am. May I help you?”
“I’m Tess Grimsby here to see Mr. Abbott. He’s expecting me.”
The ticket agent nodded. “Welcome, Miss Grimsby. I’m Mr. Drake. I’ll let you in.”
She waited at the door he’d indicated. It opened, and he pointed out another on her right. She paused and said a silent prayer.
“Don’t be scared. He doesn’t bite...often.”
She wasn’t afraid of Mr. Abbott, but she was concerned about her reaction to the appealing gentleman. Despite his rumpled frock coat and limp collar, it could be all too easy to cast admiring glances his way, and that would never do. She must act like the professional she was and keep her goal of being hired first and foremost. “Me? Scared? He’s the one who ought to be. Men have been known to run from me.”
Mr. Drake chuckled, the curled ends of his heavily waxed handlebar moustache dancing. “You’ve got spunk. That’s good. You’ll need it if you’re to work for him. He’s a fine boss, but he can be a mite intimidating on his best days. Lately...well, let’s just say losing his wife three months back changed him.” He inclined his head toward the door to Mr. Abbott’s office. “Give it a rap, and he’ll invite you in.”
Tess peered through the small window inset in the door. Mr. Abbott sat at a desk in a painfully clean office with a ledger spread before him and his head in hands. Like Mr. Drake, who had a shock of wiry gray hair, Mr. Abbott had a full head of hair, as well, although his was the color of ripe rye at sunset. Unlike his ticket clerk, who had a ready smile, Mr. Abbott sported a frown, as he had earlier. Not a promising sign.
She knocked.
“Enter.”
She stilled her trembling hand and opened the door. He jumped to his feet.
“Miss Grimsby. Please, have a seat.” He held out a hand toward the bentwood chair facing his desk.
“Thank you, sir.” She sat, folded her hands in her lap and drew a calming breath. “I trust you received all the documents I sent.”
“I did.” He remained standing, resting his hands on the windowsill with his back to her. Several seconds passed before he spoke. “You’re not what I expected.”
Her nervousness fled. She didn’t appreciate being challenged at the outset, but she wouldn’t let him fluster her. “Neither are you, but I can do the job, I assure you.” She’d worked for some prominent families in Sacramento City, the last one having a name anybody in the state would recognize. The wife of the widely respected banker had written her a letter of recommendation, albeit reluctantly. Not that Tess could blame her. The woman’s husband had found Tess’s direct manner problematic.
Mr. Abbott sat on the corner of his desk with his long legs draped over the side, forcing her to look up. She caught a flicker of feeling in his eyes. Curiosity perhaps? Or was it concern?
“Why would you come to a small town when you’re used to living among the elite? I lead a simple life, and I don’t want my children exposed to any newfangled notions.”
His manner and tone rankled. If she were to work for him, she’d have to show him she wouldn’t tolerate his high-handedness. “I’m a simple person myself, eager to leave the bustle of the city behind. I was most recently employed by a family of means, true, but I hail from humble circumstances.”
Please, don’t let him ask me to explain. She had no intention of educating him about her past. Humble circumstances didn’t begin to describe her miserable childhood.
“Your circumstances don’t concern me. But your methods do. I contacted your most recent employer. He said you have a tendency to speak your mind. Is that true?”
That was a more tactful description of her supposed failings than the domineering man had used when he dismissed her. “I have opinions, but doesn’t everyone?”
His blond brows rose, and he pressed a fist to his mouth. She thought she saw his lips twitch, and it gave her hope, but when he pulled his hand away, the frown was there as before. “Can you cook?
Mr. Abbott’s abrupt change of subject took her aback. “I assume you mean can I cook well, and the answer is yes. I can keep house, do laundry, sew, garden and care for animals, too. But the most important thing is that I’ll do all I can to help your children through this difficult time.” The Lord had used her to minister to countless youngsters who’d lost their parents, and she could put that experience to good use—provided Mr. Abbott hired her.
He