Cooking Up Love (11 page)

Chapter 18

M
iss O’Connor poked her head into Tabby’s room as she put the finishing touches on her appearance. “Quickly, girls. Mr. Harvey arrives in fifteen minutes.” She frowned. “There is a smudge on your shoe, Miss Ramsey, fix it at once.” Her heels tapped a hasty retreat as she stopped at each dormitory doorway, calling out for the girls to comb their hair or straighten bed coverings.

“Gracious!” Merrilee swiped at her shoe with a handkerchief. “As if anyone would notice a smudge, the nasty witch.”

“She only wants us to be our best.” Tabby poked the last hairpin in her hair and took one last glance in the mirror. This was as good as she could get. She ran her hands down her dress, smoothing imaginary wrinkles, and headed for the door. “Best hurry.”

Merrilee raced after her. “Don’t worry about me.” She passed Tabby and rushed down the stairs.

Again, Tabby doubted the girl came from aristocratic stock. No girl trained in ladylike manners would run down the stairs. She shrugged. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her that her roommate appeared to lie about her roots. After all, it was none of Tabby’s business. Maybe she was searching for one truthful person in a dishonest world.

Once she reached the restaurant, she moved to Miss O’Connor’s side. There was no time like the present to apologize. “I’m terribly sorry about Mr. Hastings’s termination.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Miss O’Connor cut her a glance.

“Well, I know that you, and he, uh...”

“You silly girl.” Miss O’Connor laughed. “We had nothing serious between us. He was a man to fill an empty spot in my life. I was well aware of his indiscretions. It was I who forwarded the complaints to Mr. Harvey.”

“I thought you were in love. I saw the two of you hugging in the gazebo.”

Miss O’Connor patted her shoulder. “You really are naive. Do you get such silly ideas from that Bible of yours?”

Tabby frowned. “The Bible is a wonderful map for a person’s life. I don’t believe it silly in the slightest.” How could the woman brush aside God’s Word so easily? Sure, not all people were aware of God’s glory, but to call the Bible silly ripped at Tabby’s heart.

“Well, my life has shown me differently.” The train whistle blew, pulling the head waitress’s attention to the front door. “Stand sharp, now. He’s coming.”

Her life hadn’t been that grand either, but it was the pain and hardship that led her to God, not pulled her away.

“There he is.” Miss O’Connor’s hand fluttered at her throat. “That must be the new manager with him. He’s a fine-looking man.” She patted her hair.

Hearing the excitement in the other woman’s voice, for the first time Tabby studied her as an approachable person. Her features were a bit sharp, and her spectacles tended to slide down her nose, but the brown hair sported no gray streaks and the hazel eyes shone with intelligence. She could see why a man might seek out Miss O’Connor’s company.

Tabby switched her attention from the head waitress to the arriving train passengers. One man, slight of build, with a receding hairline, a goatee and a studious look in his eye, entered the restaurant with a clean-shaven man of the same thin stature. “Which one is Mr. Harvey?”

“The bearded man. Smile, he’s coming this way.”

Tabby turned, folded her hands and smiled as the two men approached and stopped in front of them.

Mr. Harvey ran his gaze from her shoes to the top of her head, then apparently finding things to his satisfaction, turned to Miss O’Connor. “This is Mr. Edwin Richardson. He will be the new manager, and a great asset to this establishment. I trust Mr. Hastings is no longer with us?”

“Gone on yesterday’s train, Mr. Harvey.” Miss O’Connor nodded. “We wasted no time after receiving your telegram.”

“Very good.” A faint Scottish brogue colored his speech. “Upon first impression, I find no fault here, with the restaurant or the girls. I can’t wait to taste the food.”

“Let me show you to a table, Mr. Harvey. We have one available by the window.” Should Tabby bow, curtsy? She felt as if the man were royalty of some kind with the anxious yet excited looks everyone threw his way.

“What is your name?”

“Tabitha McClelland, sir.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded toward Miss O’Connor. “I’ve heard many good things about you.”

He had? She flicked a glance at Miss O’Connor. She’d spoken about Tabby? The thought filled her with warmth. “I hope my service today lives up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure it will. Sit, Richardson. Enjoy a fine meal before I introduce you to who I’ve heard is the best chef around. I interviewed him in Chicago and was impressed with the man’s credentials.”

Tabby handed the men menus and took their drink orders. By the time the drink girl poured, Mr. Harvey had ordered two sirloin steak dinners. “A good choice, sir. Mr. Foster makes a fine steak.” She nodded and walked briskly to the kitchen. Mr. Harvey would be very pleased with the quality of Adam’s cooking.

She paused at the kitchen entrance. Who was she to rejoice with Adam regarding Mr. Harvey’s visit? She’d lost that chance days ago when she set him free. There was no one with whom she could share the day’s events. No close friends or family.

Shoulders sagging, she stepped into the kitchen. “Two sirloins with all the fixings.”

She hoped Mr. Harvey didn’t just sample the food, but took the time to see the kitchen staff in action. She always marveled at the way they each seemed to know what to do, dodging each other like the workings of a clock. They resembled the waitresses, only in a much smaller space.

Adam hefted a large pot, his arm muscles bulging as he moved it to the work island. He tossed her a questioning look from under his starched chef hat.

How embarrassing to be caught staring! Much less admiring the physique of a man she couldn’t have.

* * *

Adam delegated many duties, but only he seared steaks to perfection. At least that’s what he liked to tell himself, and with the customer being Mr. Harvey, the steaks needed to be perfect. He poked one with his finger to test for tenderness, noted the medium doneness and grinned.

“Let me serve Mr. Harvey.” Merrilee stood by his elbow. “Tabby has enough work and sent me to cover for her.”

“Not unless she tells me herself.” Adam didn’t trust the girl for one second.

“But she did say so.” She gripped his arm and pressed against him.

“Miss Ramsey, the help is watching, and I’m busy. Please detach yourself from my arm and stop this embarrassing behavior.” He glanced up to see the stony countenance of Tabby.

“Merrilee, your table is requesting your assistance.”

The girl sighed with all the drama of a traveling sideshow and barged through the doors to the dining room.

“She said you sent her to wait on Mr. Harvey.” Adam grabbed a butcher knife and whacked a head of lettuce.

“I did no such thing.” Tabby stomped her foot. “My guess is she’s already got her cap set for the new manager.”

“I didn’t think you’d sent her.”
Whack.
The light scent of roses drifted to him, despite the aroma of lunch cooking. Why wouldn’t she go away? Instead of sunshine, her presence brought clouds, and he needed to concentrate.

A clatter sounded outside the door. Tabby whirled and dashed away.

Adam set his knife back in its block and followed, worried someone else might be injured.

Merrilee stood with a red face and arms flailing as a busboy knelt on the floor picking up the shattered pieces of a plate. “You imbecile! Look what you’ve done to my apron.” Streaks of gravy marred the stark white.

Tabby moved to help him.

“I’m sorry, miss, but you crashed through the door so fast and...” The young man folded the broken porcelain in his apron.

“Don’t make excuses to me. There should be windows in that stupid door, why this isn’t...” Merrilee said a few choice words that raised Adam’s eyebrows. He motioned for the busboy to head back to the kitchen.

“Miss.” Mr. Harvey patted his lips with a napkin and stood. “Please leave this establishment immediately. We do not condone that type of behavior or language under any circumstances.”

Tabby handed the busboy the few pieces in her hand and stepped back, eyes wide, and met Adam’s gaze. He turned away. Once, they would have spent time discussing the morning’s events. No longer. Now, they were no more than fellow employees. They might as well act as such.

Merrilee clasped her hands in front of her. “Please, Mr. Harvey. It was this boy’s fault. He’s clumsy, and...”

“You made a scene in front of customers.” Mr. Harvey shook his head. “It is unacceptable.” He motioned to the new manager. “Mr. Richardson, we will conclude with our tour since lunch has been rudely interrupted.” He turned to Miss O’Connor. “I do not want to see this young lady again.” He turned and marched through the kitchen door.

Merrilee put her hands over her face and sobbed.

Miss O’Conner took her by the arm and pulled her out of view of the dining room, leaving everyone in a state of quiet shock. Adam glanced out of the corner of his eye at Tabby, who stared after Miss O’Connor.

With a heavy heart, he headed back to the kitchen to take out his frustration on innocent vegetables. He really needed to leave Kansas. He couldn’t bear to see Tabby’s face every day.

“How unfortunate.” Tabby set an empty tray in the sink after the lunch crowd left.

Adam closed his eyes. She tried so hard to keep up the facade of their friendship. How could she, after knowing how he felt about her? Did she have no concern for his feelings?

She leaned against the counter. “She wanted so badly to impress Mr. Harvey and the new manager. Too much, I suppose.” She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Well, I can see you’re busy.” She paused. “I came to let you know that Mr. Harvey has requested my presence at a restaurant in New Mexico. I leave tomorrow.”

Leaving? He wanted to ask whether it was a permanent transfer, but couldn’t let her know how much her leaving affected him. Moments before, he’d convinced himself they’d be better off apart. Now that the opportunity presented itself, all he could think about was missing her with every fiber of his being. He swallowed past the mountain in his throat.

“You must have impressed him.” He picked up the menu for dinner. Looking at her would be his downfall.

“Miss O’Connor said I did.” He felt her turn. Her voice lowered. “I wanted to let you know, since I’ll be leaving on the morning train. I’ll be gone for a week. They’ve also hinted at a promotion.” Her lips curled into a smile. “That could mean a transfer to a new and exciting place.”

So, she would return. Foolish man that he proved to be, his heart leaped at the news. No matter what he told himself, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye for good. A hinted-at promotion wasn’t the same as receiving one. Adam hadn’t lost hope yet.

Chapter 19

W
ith her chin resting in the palm of her hand and her elbow on the train’s window ledge, Tabby watched the restaurant recede from view. Adam rarely spoke to her anymore, even after she told him she would be gone for a week. Most likely it was for the best. They didn’t want the same things out of life, and she shouldn’t hold him back.

He wanted a family and a home with his parents and sister close by. Tabby didn’t know how that felt. From the time she was a child, she had wanted to leave. She hadn’t had a destination in mind, just wanted to get away from a melancholy mother and a heavy-handed father. Now, Adam jeopardized everything she thought she wanted out of life.

The possibility of a promotion filled her. She could be sent to the end of the railroad line to a brand-new Harvey House. She’d be head waitress and run things her way. What would it be like to be in a place where she belonged? Where she played a major part in what it would require to run a good restaurant?

She didn’t need to decide now, but soon. At the latest, by the end of her present contract. Would Adam be pleased for her if she received news of advancement?

She craned her neck for one last glimpse of the restaurant, hoping she might catch sight of him. That he might have reconsidered and come to say goodbye. Tears stung her eyes, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. Her stubbornness and confusion had robbed her of the best friend she’d ever had.

Maybe the week away would help straighten out her feelings. Either that or she’d feel too much time had passed and there would be no way she could apologize.

The clackety-clack of the train lulled her into a doze with sleep-induced dreams where she wore frilly gowns and walked through fields of flowers toward Adam. The sun shone, birds sang and flowers in colors brighter than nature intended surrounded her. Very much like a fairy tale she read once as a child. Except Tabby was no princess to Prince Adam.

She opened her eyes and stroked the plush burgundy arm of the seat. Although the train ride was only her second time in first class, she failed to be excited. No, the fancy surroundings only carried her farther from where she wanted to be.

Strange how it took her leaving to show that Adam held her heart. Sad, that she discovered her feelings for him too late. Depressing that she would have to choose between a career and the love of a man.

* * *

Dear, God, please open Tabby’s heart.
Adam reclined against the outside wall of the restaurant and stared at the stars. With her absence, he’d lost his zeal for his job. His heart ached with missing her.

Like a coward, he’d stayed around the corner and watched as she boarded the train and it pulled away. He should have gone after her, swept her into his arms and kissed her. He should have made her promise to come back.

Almost a week had passed and he’d heard nothing about whether she would return. Sometimes girls left to fill in and sent for their things when a permanent position became available. What would he do if that happened with Tabby?

He’d pulled away, and hadn’t told her of his feelings, only hinted at them. He needed to tell her that he loved her and then let God handle her response. Please, let her answer be favorable.

“Still missing your gal?” The new manager, Richardson, came around the corner. “Not that it’s affecting your cooking, but even a stranger such as myself can see your heart is no longer with us.”

“No, sir, I reckon it isn’t.” Adam straightened. “I believe I’ll be pulling out soon. Possibly next week.”

Richardson nodded. “Not sure we can find a chef in that time, but we’ll try.”

“Then I’ll wait until one arrives, but not a day later.”

“Where you headed?”

“San Francisco. My family and I are going to open a restaurant. Pa sold the family farm, and all they’re waiting on is me. I’ve enjoyed my time here. The Harvey company is a fine establishment, but it’s time for me to move on.” Especially if Tabby returned. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay even if she remained away. The place held too many memories.

No, he’d follow through with his dream, even if he did so without her by his side. “Think I’ll turn in now.” He gave a nod to the manager, then pushed through the kitchen door.

Most of the time he enjoyed his private accommodations, and particularly on that night. Not having to explain his mood to a roommate was priceless. He wanted to wallow in his self-pity alone and away from prying questions or solicitous words of advice.

Tomorrow, he’d send his family a telegram and tell them of his plans to meet in Kansas before heading west. He liked that idea much better than meeting in California. He didn’t relish taking the trip alone if Tabby rejected him. He gave himself a mental shake. Why borrow trouble early? The moment his family arrived, Adam planned to jump on the train and proceed with his life. Hopefully not alone.

* * *

After four days in the small restaurant located in Raton, New Mexico, Tabby wanted to be back in Topeka. The girls, while friendly enough, knew she was only temporary and often stayed to themselves. Loneliness assailed her on a daily basis.

She forced yet another smile and poured coffee for a man too engrossed in his newspaper to bother looking up to thank her. When she finished with him, she moved to the next and then the next, until she thought she’d scream.

A glance out the front window showed a dust storm thick enough to obscure visibility. There’d be no walk after work if a storm followed, and the early-evening stroll was the one bright spot in Tabby’s day.

She missed Adam and so wanted to tell him that. Close to tears, she shoved into the kitchen for fresh coffee.

“Good morning, Miss McClelland.” Mr. Sullivan, the chef, wore his ever-present grin. Orange hair peeked from beneath his tall hat.

“You’re mighty chipper this morning, Chef.” Tabby grabbed the handles of a cart on which sat full carafes of freshly brewed coffee.

“I am.” He waved a sheet of paper. “Didn’t you tell me that you came from the Harvey House in Topeka?”

Her heart gave a stutter and she grabbed for the paper. “What happened? Is someone ill?”

“Of course not, silly girl. Why would they tell me if that was the case? It’s my new assignment.”

Of course it wouldn’t be bad news. If it were, the man wouldn’t be grinning. Wait. His new assignment could only mean... “Will the restaurant have two chefs?”

Please say yes. She couldn’t bear it otherwise. What if Adam left before she returned? Why did it matter? Oh, she wanted to run away.

“Nope, the present head chef is headed to California. They’ve already got my replacement, and he arrives in a couple of days. Day after that, I’m headed to Kansas.” The chef folded his letter and stuck it in the pocket of his apron. “Been waiting on an opportunity like this for a long time.”

Mere days were left before Tabby would no longer be able to see Adam, talk with him about her day, admire the way his muscles rippled when he hefted large pots, see the understanding and compassion in his eyes after a particularly rough day of work. She had no swallow large enough to dislodge the lump in her throat. No words of comfort could heal her heart. She wrapped her arms around her middle and bent at the waist.

“Are you all right, miss?” The chef looked into her eyes. “Want me to send someone for the wagon boss?”

“No. I just need some air.”

“Go on, then. I’ll have one of the kitchen gals deliver the coffee.” He clapped and waved a hand.

“Thank you.” Tabby straightened, then dashed outside. She hefted her skirts and ran to the end of the street, disregarding the curious stares of bystanders. Chest heaving, tears streaming, she leaned against the wall of the livery.

Adam would be leaving soon. If not before she returned to Kansas, then shortly after. Confusion clouded her mind. She wanted to hop the next train back to him, but fear seized her heart in a fist of ice. Her heart told her Adam was a good man, a godly man, but her mind told her she wasn’t yet ready to throw away her other opportunities.

She was caught in a whirlpool of indecision and couldn’t locate a lifeline. Wiping her tears on her apron, she headed back to work. A few days remained for her to find a solution to the dilemma in front of her. God willing, she’d find it before it was too late.

“Feeling better, miss?” Chef Sullivan cast an anxious glance her way as she entered the kitchen. “I told the wagon boss you were indisposed. She wasn’t pleased, but they covered for you.”

“Thank you.” Smoothing her hands down her dress, then poking her hairpins back in, Tabby prepared herself to return to work. She couldn’t do anything about her feelings for Adam until she returned to Kansas, so she might as well do a good job in New Mexico.

After all, she heard rumors she might become a head waitress herself within the year. She had a difficult and important decision to make, and today was not the day to make it. She needed a clear mind and stable emotions.

She forced her mind to still as she went through motions as routine and common as sleeping. Smile, pour drinks, move to the next table. She had a stable job with a good income. A girl could ask for little else. Maybe if she told herself those words often enough she would actually believe them.

She splashed coffee onto one of the white tablecloths and scrubbed as hard as she could to prevent the liquid from staining.
Pay attention, Tabitha.

She caught the eye of the head waitress, and mouthed an apology. As the day wore on, she barely held the tears at bay. By nighttime, she trembled from emotional exhaustion. Her nerves twanged so loudly she couldn’t concentrate on her nightly prayers, except to say, “Help me, God.”

Which she whispered over and over into her pillow.