LITMIR.BIZ

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two walked over as a single unit and faced Mrs. Singletary shoulder to shoulder.

      Philomena spoke for them both. “Yes, Mrs. Singletary?”

      The widow’s gaze bounced between the two, a look of vexation in her eyes. “Mr. Galloway, would you please see that my carriage and driver are waiting for me out front?”

      He gave her a pleasant smile. “I would be delighted.”

      “Yes, yes, off you go.” She sent him away with a distracted flick of her wrist.

      Philomena gazed after him with a wistful expression.

      Mrs. Singletary studied the young woman closely, then pressed her lips into a tight, determined line. Fanny feared the widow still planned to push a match between Jonathon and Philomena.

      “Hopeless,” Fanny muttered under her breath.

      “Did you say something, my dear?”

      “No, Mrs. Singletary.” Fanny lifted her chin. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

      “Not a thing. Your commitment to detail is much appreciated, Miss Mitchell. I predict this year’s ball will be spoken about long after the evening comes to a close.”

      “That is the plan.”

      “Yes, yes.” The widow patted her hand. “I wish to raise quite a sizable amount of money for the new kitchen at Charity House.”

      Excitement spread through Fanny. “It’s a worthy cause.”

      “Oh, indeed, it is.”

      They shared a smile. Fanny volunteered much of her free time at Charity House. She was even contemplating starting a program at the hotel to provide work experience for the older children. She wished she could do more. The orphanage had molded some of her favorite people into men and women of strong, moral character.

      The widow continued speaking. “I understand the majority of your family will be in attendance at my ball.”

      Fanny’s smile widened. It had been years since so many Mitchells were in one place at the same time. “I’ve reserved rooms for them here in the hotel. My parents will be staying in the bridal suite.”

      A gift from Jonathon. The dear, dear man.

      Mrs. Singletary’s expression turned somber and she reached out to touch Fanny’s arm. “How is your mother managing these days?”

      “Her asthma is much better.” Or so her father had claimed the last time he’d come to town. The worry in his eyes had told a different story.

      Her mother, always so full of life and energy, had contracted asthma recently, a chronic disease that usually showed up in childhood, but was not uncommon to reveal itself later in life. Although the doctor said Mary Mitchell’s illness was manageable, Fanny still feared the worst.

      Asthma was incurable. People had been known to die from a severe attack. Her mother suffered bouts regularly. Though hers were usually moderate in nature, stress brought on more severe symptoms. Fanny prayed the party didn’t cause her any additional strain.

      “I look forward to catching up with her while she’s in town,” Mrs. Singletary said. “Your mother has always been one of my very special friends.”

      “And you, hers.”

      “Walk us out, Miss Mitchell.”

      “Of course.” Fanny led Mrs. Singletary and Philomena to the front steps of the hotel, then bade them farewell. Back in the lobby, she fingered the guest list. This needs addressing immediately. She cast a surreptitious glance toward Jonathon’s office.

      The door swung open and out walked the man himself.

      Never one to put off an unpleasant situation, Fanny hurried over to meet him. Something in the way he held his shoulders caused her unspeakable concern.

      Judge Greene forgotten, she touched her employer’s arm. It was barely a whisper of fingertips to sleeve, yet had the intended effect. Jonathon slowly looked down at her.

      The moment their gazes merged, Fanny’s breath backed up in her throat. His face was like a stone, but his eyes were hot with anguish.

      She tightened her grip. “What’s happened? Is something wrong with the hotel?”

      “No, it’s my...” His words trailed off and his gaze fastened on a spot somewhere far off in the distance.

      Her hand fell away from his arm. However, her resolve to ease his distress remained firmly in place. “Perhaps you would care to take a short walk with me?”

      She spoke in a mild tone, the way she would when making the same suggestion any other time. They often took walks together, mostly when Jonathon required her opinion about some issue in one of his hotels.

      “A light snowfall has begun,” she added, knowing it was his favorite time to be outdoors.

      Hers, as well. There was nothing more wonderful than those precious moments when the world fell quiet beneath a blanket of fluffy white flakes.

      Jonathon remained silent, his gaze unblinking.

      “Come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the exit.

      For several steps he obliged her. Just when she thought she had him agreeable to the idea of a brief stroll, he drew his hand free.

      “Not right now, Fanny.” His voice was hoarse and gravelly, not at all the smooth baritone she was used to hearing from him. “I have another matter that requires my immediate attention.”

      His deliberate vagueness put a wedge between them. She bit back a sigh. “I understand.”

      In truth, she understood far too well. He’d shut her out. It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. Nevertheless, it stung to realize he didn’t trust her, at least not enough to share what had put him in such a dark mood.

      Without a word of explanation, he turned to go, then just as quickly pivoted back around to face her. “I’m not certain how long I’ll be gone. I need you to see to any issues that may arise in my absence.”

      “You can count on me.”

      She didn’t attempt to pry for additional information. He would reveal whatever was on his mind when he was ready. Or he wouldn’t. It was a reminder of how little he trusted her concerning his life outside the hotel.

      He’s not for you.

      But there was someone out there who was; she sensed it as surely as she knew her own name. She simply had to trust the Lord would lead her to her one true love in His time. Patience, faith—those were her greatest tools.

      “I’ll be here when you return,” she said when Jonathon made no move to leave.

      He reached up and touched her cheek. The gesture was brief, yet so full of tenderness she thought she might cry. Did the man realize how good he was beneath that polished, unflappable exterior he presented to the world?

      He would make a wonderful husband, and an exceptional father, if only he would allow someone—anyone—to squeeze through the cracks and into his heart. She wanted that for him, desperately.

      “I count on you always being here when I return, Fanny.” His expression softened. “More than you can possibly know.”

      With relief, she heard the message beneath his words. Jonathon relied on her above all others.

      The thought should have made her happy, but instead produced a small stab of pain in the vicinity of her heart. The sensation felt a lot like loss.

       Chapter Three

      Later that same afternoon, Fanny found one excuse

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