A Texas Christmas Reunion Page 6

  “It seems to me there ought to be a bit of fun along with learning arithmetic and the ABCs. I don’t recall that we had that.”

  “You don’t recall it because we didn’t. It’s a good idea, though.”

  Juliette was glad there were no late evening customers tonight. It was cozy in the dining room with the snow falling gently past the windows and the fire snapping in the hearth.

  For just an instant, she thought how lovely it would be to have a home, complete with a father for her babies.

  She did not let the dream linger for longer than an instant, though. The reality was that her family consisted of her babies and her father-in-law.

  She was content with that. Yes, she most surely was.

  Still, it was nice to look across the table and see her childhood friend—well, for honesty’s sake, she would have to admit he was her handsome childhood friend—smiling at her.

  “This has been nice, Juliette. I reckon I’ll be back in the morning for breakfast.” Trea scooped up the last bit of gravy with a spoon. “But I’d better get on my way before the snow gets any worse. I’m anxious to see the place I bought.”

  “Yes—well, about that. There was a fire last week. It burned your house—half of it, anyway.”

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, wet ash coated the soles of Trea’s boots when he walked from the burned side of the house to the standing remains. It didn’t leave a mark, since the floor was already dredged in soot.

  The storm having blown over, sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling, illuminating the damage.

  He felt a few holes in his sense of financial security, as well. Buying this place had cost him most of his savings.

  “Well, hell,” he muttered, since no one was close enough to hear the dejected curse.

  Had it been summer, he might have been able to live in the house while he made repairs. But in deep December the nip of the icy wind made him shiver, even though he stood in a patch of weak sunshine.

  A bug bite on his rear end made him wonder if, even with the cold, he ought to live here. Juliette had warned him about the hotel, but he’d had no choice but to spend the night there.

  Glancing about, he didn’t wonder long. The stench of smoke in ruined furniture and black streaks coating scorched walls told him he’d be spending a lot more nights at the hotel.

  Which was not such bad news as it might have been, even having insects for roommates. The woman who owned the hotel was leaving this afternoon and Juliette, he had been surprised and happy to discover, was the new owner.

  When he’d left his room this morning a crew of young people was already coming in to clean the place.

  “From attic to basement,” Juliette, standing in the lobby early this morning, had announced with a great smile.

  In fact, she had been glowing, her blue eyes sparkling when she told him of the plan she had come up with during the night to bring the town together.

  Her intention was to open on Christmas Eve and host a dinner for everyone in her new restaurant. She believed this was a grand way to introduce the place.

  She might have given herself an impossible task. Christmas Eve was only three weeks away. A fact that he was not about to point out to someone who, he suspected, was floating an inch off the ground when she spun away from him to follow the cleaning crew upstairs.

  Then again, his impression was that Juliette had grown to be a determined woman. Not only that, she was even more industrious than she was determined.

  There was every chance she would accomplish the impossible.

  Glancing about the ruins of his home, he decided to take her example to heart. He would fix this place up with a cheerful attitude, a positive frame of mind. He would not allow the hole in his finances to make a hole in his intentions.

  While he waited for spring and the chance to rebuild his bank account and his house, he would win over the townsfolk and educate their children.

  If it was within his power, he would stand in the way of his students taking the hard, twisted path he had followed.

  “Heard you were back.”

  Trea turned toward the voice coming from the burned side of the house. It still sounded as hard as grinding gravel.

  He’d expected his father to look older, but he was surprised to see how dissipated he’d become. Hard living showed in his face and it was a disquieting thing to look at.

  “Good to see you, Pa,” he said, even though it was more lie than truth.

  “Heard a rumor that you’re the new schoolmarm.” His father dabbed his nose on his sleeve then coughed, the congestion sounding thick and sickly.

  “You ailing, Pa?”

  “Sick at heart, thanks to you. At least tell me you faked the education that got you the sissy job.”

  Trea knew he shouldn’t let his father’s attitude cut him like it did. The man was who he was and nothing Trea did or did not do would change that.

  He hadn’t come back to town thinking to impress his father, only—

  “Come on. Let me walk you back home, Pa. You shouldn’t be out in the cold.”

  “What’s become of you, boy? I’m talking to you like you’re spit under my boot and you act like you care that I’m sick? I raised you tougher than that.”

  “You did that, sure enough,” Trea said while leading the way out of the half-burned house. “I reckon I take after Ma more than either of us knew.”

  “Tried my best to wean that out of you. I probably ought to have given you away the same time as I did that bothersome pup of yours.”

  And there was one mystery solved. He’d long suspected that the dog he’d brought home one Christmas hadn’t just become lost. Until this moment he hadn’t known for sure.

  He walked beside his father, his tongue pinched between his teeth. If he said anything it would be a string of cuss words.

  A schoolmaster had to be above that show of emotion. Trea was not about to let Ephraim Culverson be the ruin of his career on only his second day back in town.

  Upon reaching The Fickle Dog, his father waited a moment before going inside. Rather than glaring at Trea, he glared at the hotel.

  “That miserable Mrs. Pugley left town this morning. Hear tell she sold the hotel to that Lindor girl.” His father scrubbed his fingers across his beard stubble, seeming to scowl at some deep thought. He still had the hands of a teamster, calloused, with a shadow of grime under his nails. “I reckon she’ll be easier to control than the other widow.”

  “I do believe you’re wrong about that, Pa.” Trea opened the door to the saloon, indicating with a nod of his chin that his father should go inside. “But if you try, if you do any little thing to prevent what she’s doing, I’ll be standing in your way.”

  “Now I’m worried, schoolmarm—reckon I won’t sleep a wink tonight.”

  “Go inside and take care of that cough, old man. And remember what I said about Mrs. Lindor. I may take after Ma, but you’re the one who raised me.”

  * * *

  Juliette took a moment to look out the window of what would become the parlor of her new living quarters at the hotel.

  With the sun shining today, snow melted off the roof.

  “Look at that, Joe.” She pointed at the water dripping past the glass. “It looks like diamonds more than water the way the sun sparkles in it.”

  Beyond that there was nothing much to look at. The window faced the rear of the building. Out that way were only mud and piles of dirty, melting snow.

  Come spring, though! In spring there would be a fence, a tall one to shield the hotel from the saloon, and a garden with a big patch of grass for the children to creep about on.

  Turning away from the window, she gazed at the parlor, seeing it as it would be one day.

  Now there was a hallway off the parlor with two rooms on each side.
These would no longer be public rooms but part of her home. A bedroom for the children, another for Father Lindor, and one for herself, giving her more room than she had now in her small house.

  The last room would become her private kitchen with a dining table that faced the street. If she managed to return the town to a respectable place to live, sitting in the bay window would be a lovely spot for eating and doing paperwork. She’d be able to keep an eye on her café and her hotel at the same time.

  “Well, my sweet boy, there’s a lot of work to do between now and then. I’ll need your cooperation, yours and your sister’s.”

  She laid Joe down on the small bed she’d set up near the fireplace. This was fine for now, but soon the babies would be rolling over and she’d have to arrange something else.

  She would need to finish the renovations to the hotel quickly, not only because at this point her children were happy to eat, sleep and smile, which gave her time to work, but because she’d given herself the goal of opening by Christmas.

  Accomplishing that would be a challenge, but once the dream had bloomed in her imagination, nothing would keep her from trying.

  She could see it happening now, the town coming together. They would leave the school pageant, then come to the hotel for Christmas Eve dinner. After that they would walk as a group to the church, singing carols along the way.

  Once upon a time Christmas in Beaumont had been celebrated that way.

  Not with dinner at the hotel, but with joy and caroling.

  She sighed, picked up her broom and swept up dirt embedded in the corners of the soon-to-be parlor. All that Christmas goodwill had happened a very long time ago.

  Suddenly she became aware of someone standing in the doorway. From the corner of her eye she saw the silent figure of a man watching her work.

  “Hello, Trea,” she said, sweeping her way toward him. There were smears of ash on his sleeve and the brim of his hat. “Looks like you’ve been to see your house.”

  “Reckon I’ll be lodging here for a while.”

  “Welcome, then, you are my first guest! And my neighbor. I’ll be moving in here next week, if all goes well.” She stooped to gather the dirt she had collected into the dustpan. “There’s a lot to do, as you can see.”

  “I can help. I’m free in the evenings.”

  Glancing up, she realized for the tenth time—or more if one counted last night’s dreams—how handsome a man he had become.

  The warm expression in his chocolate-brown eyes, the way his smile tipped up slightly higher on one side—well, no wonder her heart beat faster at odd times.

  Like now.

  She set the dustpan aside then began to stand. He extended his hand to assist her.

  Not that she needed help in rising, or that she believed that he thought she did, but she reached for his offered hand just the same.

  His fingers curled around her palm, warm and strong. She’d thought her heart was thumping a moment ago, but that was nothing compared to now.

  He’d touched her briefly once before, when he’d defended her pride that long-ago day when Nannie had crushed her. And again, a year later, when he’d brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She’d wondered at the time if he was going to kiss her. He hadn’t—at least, not until later that night in her dreams.

  “I can sure use the help. Christmas will be here quicker than a blink,” she said, reluctantly drawing her hand out of his because holding it any longer would not be appropriate, even for a widow.

  Certainly not for a schoolmaster.

  The very last thing Trea needed was a suggestion of scandal. Not that anyone could possibly know how long he’d held her hand, but still...

  “I just came from my room,” he said. “Doesn’t look like the same place it did this morning. The kids you hired did a good job.”

  Juliette was taller than most women, but she still had to look up to engage his eyes. She’d had to look down a bit to make contact with Steven’s blue-eyed gaze.

  “I can’t say how I appreciate the hard work they are putting in. I’ll need to give them a bonus for it.” Even if most of her money was now tied up in her purchase. “I’ll lose a few of them once school starts, though I don’t mind a bit.”

  “I’ll make up for the loss.”

  “Once again, I’ll accept your help gratefully.” She returned his smile, feeling warm and content—looking forward to things in a way she hadn’t in a while.

  Oh, she’d pushed forward after the deaths and worked hard, but it had been for the sake of the children. What she felt in this moment, caught up by Trea’s smile, well—that was for her.

  “I’ll cut your room rate in half for your help. And give you the same bonus as the rest.”

  “I’ll pay the full rate, Juliette, but accept the bonus. Only it’s a different sort of bonus I have in mind.”

  Oh? She felt her skin pulse with a rising blush. A different sort of bonus had flashed through her mind, too. Being a widow, she clearly envisioned the possibilities.

  She envisioned them for a complete half second before she tucked them away.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked, as if it had been the paint color for her new parlor that she imagined.

  “It’s a lot to ask. If you turn me down I’ll understand.”

  Whatever it was he wanted, he looked nervous asking for it.

  “What I’d like is to be able to keep a dog.”

  * * *

  Only hours into the day, Juliette knew it was a lucky thing that Cora was watching the babies.

  There was more to do than there were moments to get it done. Hopefully everything she had ordered from Smith’s Ridge would arrive as scheduled.

  That was one benefit of the rail spur, she had to admit. If she’d had to depend upon delivery by supply wagon, she would not have been able to open by Christmas, perhaps not even by Easter.

  And she did dearly have her heart set on a Christmas debut. In her opinion, the future of Beaumont Spur depended upon it.

  Walking through the lobby on the way to the restaurant dining room, she paused to smell the fresh paint on the walls.

  This evening Trea had promised to put a coat of varnish on the reception counter.

  That alone was worth the price of having a dog in the hotel for a period of time. He’d promised that it would be a small, clean pup, and that he would be dedicated to keeping it free of fleas.

  With any luck the dog would be a ratter. She had cleaned and scoured the places they had been nesting, but a sharp-toothed canine reminder to not return would be helpful.

  Recollecting why she had been passing through the lobby, Juliette hurried through, into the dining room and then the kitchen.

  Stacks of cookware sat upon countertops. She’d been able to purchase all these things from Leif Ericman’s general store, but more was coming on the train, along with beds, desks, wardrobes and rugs. She could hardly wait to see them.

  Those furnishings would be for the second-floor guest rooms. For the lobby, she anxiously awaited the arrival of couches to put in front of the grand fireplace and plush chairs to scatter about the room for the comfort of her guests.

  How many times had she paused to silently thank Laura Lee Quinn for her generosity and add a prayer that she would be rewarded for it. Even with the proof of the small miracle falling into place, she could scarce believe what had happened.

  Juliette could see her guests in her mind’s eye: chatting and smiling, perhaps waiting for dinner reservations, laughing children dashing here and there...

  “Juliette!” Nannie Breene’s voice echoed from the empty lobby and through the dining room. “Juliette!”

  Quick footsteps padded across the bare floor, advancing in an unerring path toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, there you are!” Nanni
e looked even more stylish than she normally did, with her lips lightly rouged and her cheeks flushing pink.

  It could well be that the flush was because of excitement. Nannie looked positively bursting with some sort of news.

  “It stinks in here.” Nannie stood still, lifting her nose and inhaling deeply.

  “That’s paint you smell. I don’t know if you heard that I purchased—”

  Nannie snapped her fingers. “Yes, I know all that, but you won’t believe what I’ve heard!”

  “I don’t have time to chat right now, Nannie. Not if I want to get anything done before the babies get hungry.”

  “I just saw them sleeping over at the café and, mark my words, you’ll want to hear this.”

  Luckily, as of yet there was no place to sit down on the whole bottom floor so she would be forced to spread her gossip quickly. Juliette had little doubt what it concerned.

  “What is your news?” Juliette asked quickly, to avoid a big buildup to its importance.

  “Trea Culverson is here! I came straightaway to tell you, because being shut up in this dreary place you wouldn’t have heard. This is heaven’s own truth—and you know that’s all I’d ever tell—he is the new schoolmaster! Of all the things! And here we all expected him to run the saloon. A lot of folks are uneasy about sending their children to be educated by such a rebel.”

  “We’ve all changed over the years. I’m certain he has, as well.”

  Nannie’s grin stretched wider than her delicate, narrow mouth ought to allow for. “Not so much as you might think, except that he’s more handsome as a man than he was a boy. But he’s the same daring rascal inside, I’d wager.”

  “Why would you?” For all that needed doing, Juliette wanted to know why Nannie thought so. Her own impression had been far different. But then, it always had been.

  “I saw him—face-to-face. I’m certain I’m the first person he sought out.”

  “Really? Where did he seek you out?”

  “In the alley behind The Suzie Gal.”

  “What? Why were you behind the saloon, Nannie?”

  “I heard his voice, so I followed it.”