Once Upon A Texas Christmas

She still detected a hint of tension in him, so she decided to change the subject. “Did the Crandalls get off okay?”

He gave a short nod. “They were headed for the train station as I left to join you for church service.”

“I pray the doctors in Chicago can help Norma. And not just for her sake. She and Edgar are so close. They’re twins, you know, which makes them doubly close.”

Something flickered in his expression, something involuntary, there and gone before she could identify it.

They’d arrived at the restaurant, however, so she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Abigail made a few introductions, then left him in her brother’s company while she headed to the kitchen. She knew it was foolish to worry about how he’d fit in. Traveling as he did, Mr. Reynolds must be accustomed to finding himself in unfamiliar places with strangers for company.

Still, she felt responsible for him while he was here.

* * *

Seth watched Abigail head to the kitchen and for just a moment felt as if he’d been set adrift. Strange how he’d become accustomed to her presence after such a short acquaintance.

Which was absurd. He was used to being among strangers—in fact he normally preferred it. Strangers had little power to distract or disappoint you.

“What do you think of Turnabout?”

He turned to see it was Everett Fulton who’d addressed him. “From what I’ve seen so far, the place carries a certain small-town charm.”

Everett smiled. “Quite different from Philadelphia, isn’t it? But it definitely has its fine points.”

“Your sister indicated all four families here have ties to Judge Madison.”

“We do. About five or so years ago, Judge Madison was instrumental in convincing the men in this group to move here from Philadelphia.”

Which was information Miss Fulton had already provided. He’d hoped for a little more, so he tried a little prodding. “I suppose he was working to improve his granddaughter’s hometown even then.”

Everett looked amused. “You could say that.” The door opened and Everett waved a hand. “Speaking of the judge’s granddaughter, she just walked in with her family. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Regina Barr turned out to be a confident, interesting woman, with eyes that seemed to see more than the physical aspect of the person she was speaking to.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand. “My grandfather has told me so much about you.”

She released his hand and continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you properly yesterday, but I’m glad you could join us today. I trust my grandfather was well the last time you saw him.”

“Yes, ma’am. And he sends his best to you.”

“In his letters to me, he speaks very highly of you, and my grandfather isn’t one to praise lightly.”

Seth gave short bow. “You flatter me, ma’am. I have the utmost respect for your grandfather. He tells me you’re a talented photographer.”

She nodded, acknowledging his compliment. “It’s something I enjoy.” Then she handed the child she’d been carrying to her husband and accepted the hamper he’d been carrying in return. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m going to see if they need my help in the kitchen.”

After that, the other members of the group arrived in rapid succession and Seth was introduced to each in turn.

With practiced ease, the men rearranged the tables to form one long dining surface. After a moment’s hesitation, Seth set aside his cane and pitched in. He was always self-conscious about his ungainly gait when he walked unaided, but that was no excuse for not helping.

The conversation among the men was convivial and while they made an effort to include him, much of it contained references to people and events Seth was completely unfamiliar with. But he listened and absorbed what he could. He’d learned long ago that it was always helpful to learn as much as possible about the people around you.

Seth was pleased no one tried to give him special treatment due to his limp. His assistance was accepted as a matter of course, a consideration he didn’t always receive.

Once the tables were properly arranged, cloths were brought out, followed by the meal itself. Everyone pitched in, even the older children—obviously no one here considered setting up the meal to be women’s work.

Once everything was set out, he went to retrieve his cane and found one of the children, a little girl who looked to be four or five, eyeing it curiously.

“I like your stick,” she said when he approached.

“Thank you.” He took it and leaned into it, relieving some of the weight from his aching leg. “I like it, too.”

“Do you use it because you walk funny?”

Seth stilled, unused to being questioned so directly. But there was no judgment in this little girl, only curiosity. So he managed to smile and give her a simple answer. “Yes. It helps me to walk when my leg hurts.”

She nodded, then skipped away to rejoin some of the other children.

Seth turned and stilled as he found Miss Fulton watching him. The idea that she might have overheard his exchange with the child left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“I see you’ve made the acquaintance of the judge’s great-granddaughter, Patience.”

He still couldn’t tell if she’d overheard anything. “She seems a bright child,” he said cautiously.

Miss Fulton nodded and then changed the subject with a wave toward the other end of the room. “I thought I’d give you a look at my library.”

“Of course.” He followed her across the room, deciding that she probably hadn’t heard anything after all.

The three bookshelves that held her collection were crammed full, with many of the shelves weighted down with books stacked two deep. And the range of titles included was impressive.

“What do you think?” She studied him earnestly, as if his answer really mattered to her.

He wasn’t used to such regard. He cleared his throat. “You have an impressively eclectic selection. There seems to be a little something for every taste and age level.”

She smiled as if that had been a huge compliment. “Thank you. I try to have something for everyone, but as you probably noticed I’ve run out of room to add anything new. In fact, the last batch Judge Madison sent is stacked on a chair in my bedroom. I’ve had to ask him to stop sending books until I figure out a way to accommodate them.”

Which must be when Judge Madison decided she needed a new space for her books. “Does your library get much use?”

Miss Fulton nodded as she fussily straightened a few volumes. “Absolutely. Several patrons have read every book I own, some more than once. And many have asked to be notified as soon as I acquire new titles.”

The small desk in front of the bookshelves held an open ledger and he idly studied it, curious as to her record-keeping skills.

The page contained row upon row of neatly penned entries containing book title, checkout date, return date and the borrowing patron’s name. The woman was surprisingly well organized for someone who seemed so flighty.

Perhaps there was more to Miss Fulton than he’d initially credited.

Then again, managing a small subscription library and managing the creation of a cohesive design for a major business were two entirely different undertakings on two entirely different scales.