LITMIR.BIZ

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now, listening to the rumble of the great engine and feeling the vibration of the wheels on the track picking up speed, he didn’t know which he feared most. Seeing her again—or not seeing her.

      * * *

      What had she done?

      Juliette opened the door to her snug little café and came inside, shutting the door on glowering clouds that promised snow. She glanced about the well-kept space and breathed in the familiar scents.

      The café was empty of customers at the moment, but clearly there had been a few. Coffee had recently been served and sweet rolls. The lingering scent of steak told her someone had just enjoyed a meal.

      Every inch of this place was as familiar to her as her face in the mirror.

      What on God’s good earth had she done?

      “You’re back quicker than I expected.” Rose bustled out from the kitchen, dusting flour-smeared hands on her apron. “I figured I’d bake a pan of biscuits. I imagine the folks arriving on the train will be hungry.”

      “I appreciate that. Thank you, Rose.”

      “It was no problem. The babies are asleep and your father-in-law is reading a dime novel. I needed to keep busy with—Juliette, you’re pale. Are you feeling all right?”

      “Am I pale?” Juliette took off her gloves and pinched her cheeks. “Well—it’s just that I bought the hotel.”

      Cora looked up from her book and pointed out the window. “That hotel?”

      “I imagine so, Cora. It’s the only one in town,” Rose pointed out, looking as appalled as her sister.

      “But it’s in worse shape than the schoolhouse is.”

      Juliette hadn’t seen the inside of the small red building in some time but figured she must accept Cora’s word on it. “Yes—that very one. The fleas and the bedbugs all belong to me now.”

      What in glory blazes had she done?

      Turned her safe, predictable life upside down, is what.

      “If I were you I’d tear it down,” Cora advised.

      “That will be enough of your sassy mouth, young lady,” Rose scolded. “If you can’t say something supportive just go back to your studies.”

      “I’ve been trying to all afternoon. But those women from the Ladies Service Society spent their whole meeting time gossiping about that no-account fellow coming to town. If they want to be of service, they should have been over at the schoolhouse cleaning it. It made my brain scatter. I reckon the new teacher will take the first train out of here once she sees where she’s supposed to work.”

      Juliette assumed that the man the members of the Society had been discussing could be no other than Trea Culverson. Juliette was grateful that she had not been here for that conversation. Her recollections of the boy were vastly different than theirs.

      And the very last thing she had time for was filling her mind with a long-ago romance, especially one that had only happened in her imagination.

      “Yes, well,” Juliette said. “That’s what the Ladies Service Society does. They make plans over coffee, but usually don’t act upon them.”

      “Same with our ‘brave’ sheriff. He took his lunch plate to the ladies’ table. Sure did make some big talk about keeping a sharp eye on the man they were talking about.” Cora picked up her pencil and appeared to be absorbed in study, but Juliette figured it was more focused on town trouble.

      “He would, wouldn’t he? After his cousins nearly robbed the bank right under his nose, he needs to do something to look like he’s protecting us.” Rose shrugged. “I was too young to remember Mr. Culverson much, but he sounds charming and wicked all at once.”

      “Yes, well, some will remember him that way, but I remember a boy with a kind heart.”

      When she had time she might give her memories of Trea further thought, but at the moment she had to focus on what might be the biggest mistake she had ever made.

      So much was a jumble in her mind, such as how to deal with various forms of vermin while trying to keep Warren Lindor out of The Fickle Dog Saloon when it was right next door to the hotel.

      But a few other things were perfectly clear.

      For one thing, she would move into the hotel, once it was livable.

      For another, she would open a fancy restaurant within the hotel—a steakhouse. It would be a respectable place where folks could bring their families.

      Still yet another, and this was very important to her, she would keep her dear café open. It had been her lifeline, something to focus her future on after burying her family.

      What she had just done was too overwhelming to consider all at once. If she tried, it made her short of breath and gave her a bit of a headache.

      Tiny steps would get her to where she needed to be. In time, she hoped to lead Beaumont Spur back to the decent place it used to be. A place where a child could run free, hear birdsong instead of garish music...where one did not need to worry about being bowled over by staggering saloon patrons. That was something she hoped to change. Unfortunately, good folks were already packing.

      She took a breath and let it out slowly. There was really nothing she could do about her giant undertaking right that moment.

      Except—

      “Rose, do you like working here?”

      “I couldn’t get by without the work you give me. There aren’t a lot of respectable jobs for someone my age, and I’m not nearly ready to marry.”

      “Would you consider running the café for me?” Juliette glanced between Rose and her little sister. Whatever Rose chose to do would be with Cora’s best interests in mind.

      “You could live in my house. That way you would be here in town, closer to work and to school for Cora.”

      Rose stared at her in silence. Warren’s soft chuckle drifted out of the kitchen while he read his novel.

      “I know it’s sudden, but—”

      “I can start right now. Mercy, but I guess I already have.” Rose lifted her hands and waggled her flour-crusted fingertips. “It won’t be long until the afternoon train. I’ll get back to the kitchen right now.”

      “I can pay you, too, Cora, if you’d like to help with sweeping and keeping things tidy or watching the babies.”

      “I reckon I won’t be going to school anytime soon, once the new teacher gets a look at the place, so, yes, I’d like that.”

      “The classroom is that awful?”

      “As far as I can tell, and that’s quite a bit, the old teacher never, ever, even wiped fingerprints off the desks.”

      Beaumont needed a respectable teacher. Given that Juliette would have her children attending in only five more years, and also given the fact that keeping things neat and tidy was something of a crusade for her—

      “Don’t you worry about what your new schoolteacher will think. If you’ll help your sister with the café and with Mr. Lindor for a few hours, I’ll make sure your new teacher will be happy with the classroom.”

      A couple hours of scrubbing ought to give her time to think and plan. There were more thoughts in her mind right now than she could keep track of.

      Along with an orderly attack on dirt, she might put together a plan to make her hotel a symbol of new life for Beaumont Spur.

      * * *

      Wind tugged Juliette’s skirt every which way while she pushed the buggy over the rutted road toward the schoolhouse. As cold as it was, she hadn’t wanted to bring the babies out, but they would be getting hungry soon. Even if they would accept

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