Once Upon A Texas Christmas. Winnie Griggs

took that as her cue. “I’m sure you’d like to get settled in, and I need to head to the restaurant. Perhaps we could continue our conversation over a late lunch.” She smiled. “In fact, you could meet me there. It has some of the best food you’ll find in these parts and it’s a short walk from here. Mr. Crandall can direct you.”

      He leaned casually against the counter. “Actually, I’d prefer to eat here. I want to get a feel for the quality of the hotel’s current menu offerings.”

      Even leaning against the counter, he managed to maintain his all-business air.

      “Of course. Shall I return in, say, two hours?”

      He nodded. “I look forward to resuming our conversation.”

      Now why didn’t she believe that?

      Abigail made her exit, trying not to lose heart.

      Mr. Reynolds wasn’t the friendly, open person she’d been hoping for. Perhaps after he’d had time to rest from his trip he’d thaw a bit. Otherwise it might be difficult working with him for the next few months.

      For all his standoffishness, however, there was something about him she found intriguing. And it wasn’t just that he was handsome, which he was, in a brooding sort of way. There was something she’d seen in those cinnamon-brown eyes of his, something that tugged at her, that spoke of a buried vulnerability behind his guarded attitude. There was his limp, of course, but it went deeper.

      One thing was certain, he hadn’t been pleased to learn she’d be working with him. How would he react when she told him she wanted the job of hotel manager?

      She’d given it a lot of prayer and thought. In fact, she had thought of little else since she’d received the judge’s letter. She’d even discussed it with Constance, testing the idea with her levelheaded friend.

      The thought of managing a hotel on her own was daunting but exciting at the same time. If she could convince Mr. Reynolds and Judge Madison to give her the chance, however, she was absolutely convinced she could do it. After all, Constance had responsibility for the pharmacy and she was the same age.

      True, Constance had gone to school back east to train for her position. But it wasn’t as if Abigail hadn’t prepared in her own way. She’d spent every minute she could with Mr. Crandall, getting his insights into what the job entailed and what he saw as the main challenges. And Constance had agreed that she had a way with people that would serve her well in a job like this.

      It was just a matter of convincing Mr. Reynolds of her suitability. And surely, if he was anything like Judge Madison, he would keep an open mind on the matter.

      * * *

      Seth ignored the urge to watch his would-be work associate leave. There was something about her that got under his skin. But he didn’t have time for such distractions—he had to focus on his almost-within-reach goal.

      He turned back to the former owner. “Mr. Crandall, let me say on behalf of Judge Madison that he appreciates your willingness to remain until we can transition to a new manager.”

      Edgar Crandall nodded. “It was the least I could do. It’s good that you showed up today, though. I’m not sure how much longer I could have stuck around.”

      Seth frowned. “What do you mean?”

      “Didn’t Judge Madison tell you? The whole reason I sold this place was because my sister needs special medical care. I’m taking her to a doctor in Chicago as soon as possible. I told the judge I’d stay until his representative arrived, but I was beginning to think I’d have to renege and leave before that happened.”

      It seemed Judge Madison had neglected to impart yet another piece of crucial information. He knew his employer well enough to believe it wasn’t an oversight. Which meant there was more to this than appeared on the surface. What was he up to?

      For now, though, that question would have to wait. He hadn’t counted on having to hire new staff so soon. Maybe he could find someone to man the desk temporarily. “When are you planning to leave?”

      “Norma and I will board the morning train tomorrow. We’re already packed and ready.”

      “Do you have any recommendations for who can step in until we hire a permanent replacement?”

      The man turned to retrieve a room key. “Abigail’s been hanging around here the past few days, studying the place and trying to learn what she can about the different jobs.”

      He supposed that would make her insight into the staffing process more useful. “That was enterprising of her.”

      Crandall smiled. “You’ll find Abigail is a fast learner.”

      Seth decided to change the subject. “How many guests do you have currently?”

      “We’re limiting our bookings to three guest rooms, the ones farthest from the construction. The noise level is a problem for the other rooms.” The man handed him the key. “You’ll be the exception. I have you in room six—top of the stairs and second room on the right.” He cast a furtive glance at Seth’s cane. “My sister and I occupy the first-floor suite. It’ll be vacant starting tomorrow if you prefer to have that space.”

      Seth’s jaw tightened at this reminder of his perceived infirmity. But he merely nodded and turned toward the stairs. Though he’d long ago accepted that this was how he would be viewed, he still felt the sting each time it happened.

      As he climbed the stairs he stepped deliberately, regardless of the pain. It helped him to concentrate on the job ahead. He would take a look at the state of the construction as soon as he freshened up from his trip.

      All in all, from his initial look, the atmosphere here was overblown and cozy rather than elegant, rustic rather than refined. Nothing here spoke of sophistication and luxury.

      Could he really count on Miss Fulton to handle the decor so that it was brought up to the judge’s normal standards? And to get it all done in time to wrap up by the end of the year?

      Why couldn’t the judge have partnered him with someone who had more experience than the chatty young redhead?

      How had his employer described her in his letter—witty, imaginative and charmingly spirited, a fast learner and an able partner? High praise from a man he’d always thought of as keenly perceptive.

      But then again, the judge only knew her via correspondence. He’d never actually met Miss Fulton in person.

      So, no offense to his employer, but he would form his own opinions about just how capable the woman actually was.

      And so far, he was not impressed.

       Chapter Three

      “Did you have a chance to look around yet?” Abigail had just taken a seat across the table from Mr. Reynolds in the hotel dining room.

      He inclined his head. “I did.”

      The man didn’t seem to be any more forthcoming now than he’d been earlier. “And what are your thoughts?” she prodded.

      “In my opinion, having everything completed by Christmas is an ambitious goal, but it is definitely achievable.”

      “Oh.” Was this something he and the judge had discussed? “I know Judge Madison is planning to visit over the holidays, but I wasn’t aware that that was our deadline.”

      He gave her an infuriatingly superior look. “It’s always good to have an end date in mind when starting any project. And Christmas seems an appropriate one in this case, especially since Judge Madison will be in town.”

      Choosing to ignore his tone, she smiled. “I shall defer to you on that since I understand you have experience overseeing this sort of work.”

      “I have experience in many