Hidden in a Whisper (13 page)

Rachel considered Simone's words long after she'd gone. She had very nearly convinced herself that leveling with Braeden was the right thing to do when Reginald approached, declaring that it was time to finish interviewing the last of the kitchen staff.

“I have two men who should do nicely for the baking,” he told her. “And there's a local boy, Tomas Sanchez, who is in desperate need of employment. I thought he might work out well as a general errand boy and stocker. He's only sixteen, but he's now the man of his family.”

Rachel thought of the awesome responsibility. “Are there many in his family?”

“I should say so. He has eight brothers and sisters, a sickly mother, and an ancient grandmother. He's the only one old enough to seek employment.”

“Give him the job,” Rachel quickly agreed and dabbed at her forehead. The afternoon heat was quite taxing, making everyone irritable.

“Would you rather I take responsibility for hiring the bakers? That is to say, I see no reason you should have to add to your labors when they will be under my direct supervision.”

Rachel smiled. Reginald was always looking for ways to ease her burden. “That would be wonderful, Reginald.”

“Call me Reg. Reginald always sounds so formal. You Americans are good about putting aside formalities and ceremony—let it be so between us.”

“All right, Reg,” Rachel replied and smiled. “As hot as it is, I'm not about to argue with you or anyone else.”

“September is said to be a cooler month. I believe we shall enjoy an enchanting Indian summer, with less severity in temperature.”

“Who told you this?” she questioned, knowing that Reg was as foreign to this part of the country as she was.

“Mrs. Needlemeier. The woman is a vast source of information. She informed me where I might find fresh mint. Her gardener planted an abundance, and she has given me leave to harvest it whenever I have need.”

Rachel smiled. “Nothing seems to escape Mrs. Needlemeier's attention.”

“She has a bevy of other herbs in her private garden and has also made these available to the Harvey House. I told her we could pay, but she said that was nonsense and shooed me away.”

Rachel could well imagine the scene. She dabbed her forehead again and silently wished she could go lie down and cool off as many of her girls were doing. Reg must have sensed her exhaustion because in the next moment, he turned her away from the kitchen.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this job. You go rest. You are very much like our beloved Queen Victoria. Her majesty is wellknown for her hard work. You are like her in that way and in many others,” Reginald said, guiding Rachel gently to the door of the Harvey Girl's parlor. “I will bid you good-afternoon and leave you to rest. I wouldn't want anything to happen to one so lovely and delicate as you, Rachel.”

Rachel thought his concern to be quite refreshing. She wondered why Braeden couldn't respond to her in such a tender way. It seemed that whenever they met up, he was always sarcastic and forceful, and Rachel, angry and scared.

“Thank you, Reg,” she finally said, noticing that he seemed to be awaiting her decision. “I think I will go rest for a little while. I'm sure to be a new person once the sun goes down.”

“That's the spirit,” Reg replied. “Then off with you, and I will return to my duties.”

Rachel nodded and left him there in the kitchen. The parlor was empty as she moved through it to the adjoining hall. She smiled to think of Reg comparing her to Queen Victoria. Rachel had once seen a picture of the woman in a newspaper. It was her golden jubilee or some other sort of celebration. The woman was not at all a pleasantlooking sort, but instead wore her authority in her very expression. She could certainly not be called a beauty, although Rachel recalled having heard that in her youth she had been quite lovely.

“But youth fades,” Rachel sighed, bringing her hand to her cheek, as if feeling her own face wrinkle and wither. “Time is passing by quickly for me. It won't be that many years before I'm thirty, and then my life will be half over and I'll still have nothing more to show for it than this.”

She looked down the hallway of doors and polished wood floors and sighed. For all her responsibility and the admiration of her superiors, it would never compensate for the lack of love and family in her life. For although she loved her job and even loved her girls, at least most of them, they would never fill the need inside her nor satisfy her hunger for marriage and children.

“If you have a purpose, Lord,” she said, glancing upward, “I certainly pray you reveal it soon. Otherwise I shall end up as old and wrinkled as Queen Victoria, without the country and family to show for it.”

  
NINE
  

SET AMIDST AN ARCHED GROTTO, the hot springs at Casa Grande generated an invigorating flow of warm mineral waters that made it a particularly welcome attraction. Even in the heat of summer, the hot springs were sought out by the staff of Casa Grande for entertainment and restoration. With her work completed, Rachel thought a dip in the springs would be just the thing to help her sleep better.

She donned a bathing suit supplied by the hotel and laughed at the shortness of the skirt. It barely came to the middle of her stocking-and-bloomer-covered legs. The top, with short, fitted sleeves, buttoned up the middle to her neck. Rachel had never worn anything so daring and still had trouble believing it acceptable to be seen in such a condition—especially without a corset. She pulled on her robe, took up a book of poems and a towel, and steadied her nerves. The hour was well past the time when most of the staff went to the pool, so she kept her confidence and hoped she might be the only one there. She had no desire to share small talk with any of the girls—most were considerably younger and chattered away about the handsome men they'd known or had seen. Such talk was boring at best, and at worst it depressed Rachel.

It wasn't for a lack of understanding, because Rachel knew what it was to daydream about such things. But the pain it stirred deep inside made her miserable, and therefore it seemed senseless to occupy herself with such idle conversation. Besides, she was their supervisor. A motherly, matronly figure who told them what to do and when. And although she enjoyed a closeness with the girls, Rachel knew it didn't compare to the camaraderie that they shared with one another as peers. They might come to her with their problems, hoping for solutions and an understanding ear, but they were not likely to share their dreams or invite her to partake in their entertainment.

At least there was Simone, and that was a great comfort to Rachel. Perhaps God had perfectly interceded on Rachel's behalf by having Simone be unable to work at Casa Grande. Now they could just be friends and not worry after the incidentals of running a business.

Rachel slipped out the back door and made her way around the side of the resort to where a stone walkway led to a lighted path to the pools. Once the guests actually arrived at Casa Grande, Rachel would wait to change her clothes at the bathhouses that extended off the stone grotto, but for now it was far more convenient to do things this way. She hummed as she made her way in the darkness. Somehow it helped her feel less self-conscious about her appearance. She tried to believe what Simone had told her about having a fine figure, but it was difficult at best. Rachel had always believed that beauty came from within a person, and right now she didn't feel at all beautiful.

A frown came to her face.
No, I feel hard and frustrated. I have so much misery inside of me, it would be difficult for anything lovely to coexist
.

Opening the wrought-iron gate at the grotto's central arch, Rachel felt a small sigh escape her as she found the main pool completely deserted. She put her book and robe aside and hurried to get into the pool before anyone else could appear. At least the water afforded her a bit of coverage.

The warmth penetrated her aching muscles and brought a smile to her face. Her feet hurt from the long hours she'd spent working, and her neck and shoulder muscles seemed to be bound in cords that refused to relax. For a moment she floated lazily on her back and tried to concentrate on nothing but the starry sky overhead. It was a little more difficult to see the stars because of the soft glow coming from electric light posts, but they were there. This was the reason she chose the main pool rather than the more secluded women's bathing pool. The latter had a lattice-styled wall connecting with the rose stone arches to completely surround the bathing area. Overhead, another series of vine-covered lattices helped to shield the harshness of the sun. The lattice allowed the mountain breezes to blow through, while shielding the women from view. It was a lovely setting, but you couldn't gaze upward into the night skies and see the diamond-like sprinkling of stars. Here, so near the mountains in the dry, crisp air, the stars often looked close enough to touch. Even now the skies spread out like a masterpiece unlike anything Rachel had ever seen. Reaching her hand to the sky, Rachel pretended she could touch the stars. The idea made her smile. When she was a little girl, her father had often put her on his shoulders so she could “reach” the sky. She liked to imagine that even now, as she reached upward, her beloved papa was reaching down to touch her from heaven.

Feeling her body begin to relax, Rachel rolled over on her stomach and dove under the water. She felt the rush of warmth hit her face. What a marvelous sensation. It caused her nose to tingle and tickle as she pushed toward the bottom of the pool. She continued to dive underwater for several moments, desiring only to stay there forever and let the water continue to drain away her miseries. But soon she found herself short of breath and forced herself to return to the surface. As her face emerged above the water, Rachel instantly became aware of a presence. Smoothing her wet hair out of her face, Rachel gazed up to find Braeden quietly watching her.

“You shouldn't come here by yourself,” he said, leaning back casually against the stone entry arch. “Don't you know it's dangerous to swim alone?”

Rachel felt her pulse quicken. “It's not proper for you to be here. Leave at once!”

“I've as much a right to come for a swim as do you,” he answered with a grin. “After all, this is the common pool for both men and women.”

Rachel realized that she would have to do something. She couldn't just remain in the pool and allow Braeden to join her. It simply wouldn't be proper for them to swim together—alone. Knowing that she would have to expose herself to his view, she very calmly swam over to the stone steps and climbed out of the pool. She quickly toweled off and pulled on her robe without another word. What she had hoped would be a quiet, leisurely swim and a chance to read a few pages of poetry under the twinkling stars quickly faded into a confrontation. “Have your swim, Mr. Parker. I wouldn't dream of interfering. However, I see that you, too, are very much alone. Are you not worried about such evils?”