LITMIR.BIZ

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files and followed them out, Garrett Mitchell hung back. “I’d like a quick word with you.”

      Eyebrows lifted, Jonathon gave a brief nod. “All right.”

      “Tell me your plan for the train depot. I know you have one or you wouldn’t have mentioned it specifically in the contract.”

      Having worked with the young attorney before, Jonathon sensed the man’s interest was genuine. Garrett Mitchell had a keen mind for business and a penchant for taking risks.

      What harm could there be in sharing the basics of his idea? “My ultimate goal is to turn the stop into a premiere destination, with restaurants, shops, lodging and more.”

      Garrett rubbed his chin in thoughtful silence. “Entire towns have been built on less.”

      The other man’s insight was spot on. “My hope is to create a community, not precisely a town, not at first, anyway. Rather a safe haven for my employees and their children.”

      He paused, thinking of his mother, of the desperation that had led her to make bad decisions out of terrible choices. “Each position will include a fair wage, on-the-job training, as well as room and board.”

      “If done right,” Garrett mused, “the venture could bring you a great fortune.”

      “Money isn’t the driving force behind the project.” He went on to explain about the types of employees he would hire, mostly women like his mother.

      “Ah, now I understand.”

      Jonathon believed Garrett Mitchell did, indeed, comprehend his motives. After all, the man was married to Molly, a woman whose mother had worked in Mattie’s brothel, and whose older sister had adopted her when she was five.

      “Let me speak to my brothers. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

      Jonathon appreciated the gesture, but he needed to make one point perfectly clear. “I won’t accept a lease, no matter how agreeable the terms.”

      “Understood.” Now that their business was concluded, Jonathon expected the other man to take his leave.

      Once again, this younger Mitchell brother surprised him. “Now that that’s settled, tell me how my sister is faring in her new position here at the hotel.”

      Jonathon hesitated. He didn’t feel right discussing Fanny with her brother. It felt like a betrayal to their friendship. “Why not ask her yourself?”

      The other man shrugged. “I could. But she’ll merely tell me she’s doing fine.”

      True enough. “I can’t speak for Fanny, but I can tell you she’s doing an exceptional job. In truth, she’s become indispensable to me.” At her brother’s lifted eyebrow, Jonathon added, “I mean, of course, here, at the hotel.”

      “Have a care, Hawkins.” Garrett’s eyes took on a hard edge. “Fanny has brothers who’ll take on any man who tries to take advantage of her.”

      The warning was unnecessary. Jonathon would never hurt Fanny. If anyone dared to harm her or threaten her well-being, he would be first in line to deal with the rogue.

      A knock came at the door and the very woman they were discussing appeared in the room. “Jonathon, we have a situation and...oh.” Her eyes widened. “Garrett. I didn’t realize you were involved in this afternoon’s meeting.”

      “Didn’t you?”

      “No. I...” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry, but I need to steal my boss away for a few minutes. We have a...situation.” She gave Jonathon an apologetic grimace. “It’s somewhat urgent.”

      “We’ll talk out in the hall.”

      Before leaving the room, she tossed a sweet smile at her brother. “Good to see you, Garrett.”

      “You, too, Fanny. Been too long.” He gave her a wry twist of his lips. “Great talking with you.”

      She laughed at his teasing tone. “Sorry I have to rush off. We’ll catch up later?”

      “Count on it.”

      The affection between the two was obvious. Clearly, the bond Jonathon had witnessed among the Mitchell brothers included the sisters, as well. For a brief period in his life he’d felt something similar with the other kids at Charity House, but that was a long time ago.

      He followed Fanny out of the room, shut the door behind them. “You mentioned a situation?”

      She puffed out a frustrated breath. “Mrs. Singletary has asked for extensive changes to the menu for tomorrow night.”

      “How extensive?”

      “Ridiculously so, but before I send Philomena back with my carefully worded reply, I thought I’d better run it by you first.”

      She handed him a slip of paper with her neat handwriting scrolled across the page. The firm, yet oh-so-polite explanation as to why the hotel could not accommodate the widow’s request was so perfectly phrased that Jonathon felt something move through him.

      Admiration, to be sure, but something else, as well. Not quite affection, something stronger, something with an edge. “Fanny Mitchell, you are a marvel.”

      “You’re not...” she took back the note “...upset that I’m holding firm against the widow’s request?”

      “On the contrary.” He subdued the urge to kiss the top of her head. And then her temple. Perhaps even the tip of her nose. “I completely and thoroughly approve.”

       Chapter Five

      The next morning, Fanny woke before dawn and went straight to work. Preparations for Mrs. Singletary’s ball kept her busy all day, making it impossible to find a spare moment for herself. There hadn’t even been time for a cup of tea with her mother.

      Tonight, she promised herself, as she hurried back to the room she called home in the wing reserved for hotel staff. She would seek out both her parents later tonight, as well as visit with each of her siblings and their spouses. For now, she had to dress for the ball.

      She slipped into her gown, buttoned up the bodice, tied the ribbons on her sleeves, then secured the last pin in her hair. Turning her attention to the writing desk, where she’d laid out her lists in a neat, tidy row, she couldn’t help but think she’d forgotten something important.

      Why did she have this nagging sense of doom, this foreboding that something terrible was going to happen at the ball this evening?

      Nerves, she told herself, a simple case of nerves. Perfectly understandable, considering the importance of tonight’s event.

      The clock on her nightstand told her she had nearly two hours before the first guests arrived. Plenty of time for another run-through of the ballroom, as long as she didn’t fuss over her appearance.

      Ironic, really, since most of her life she’d been lauded solely for her looks. Far too often she’d been touted as that lovely, charming Mitchell girl. Not a terrible reputation to have—quite pleasant, actually—but Fanny wanted to be seen as more than a pretty face.

      Tonight the good people of Denver would meet a new Fanny Mitchell. A woman with substance and depth and a complex brain beneath the doll-like features.

      With that in mind, she moved closer to her writing desk and reviewed her notes again. Working from top to bottom, left to right, she considered each item, one list at a time. Only after repeating the process twice over did she let out a sigh of relief.

      The hotel was ready.

      Was she?

      Giving in to a moment of vanity—she was representing the Hotel Dupree, after all—she checked her reflection in the standing mirror by the

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