Hidden in a Whisper (16 page)

“I see there will be no convincing you to change your mind,” Esmeralda stated severely. “I suppose I shall have to take the matter up with the officials of your railroad.”

Rachel felt frustrated by the woman's inability or refusal to see the reason behind her decision. “Mrs. Needlemeier, are you a Christian woman?”

The black-draped woman gasped. “I should say so! What kind of question is that?”

“I ask about your faith in order to ascertain if we value the same things. I seek my direction in prayer and God's guidance. If you held no value for that, then I would be wasting my breath in trying to justify my choice. But since you are a God-fearing woman, I can speak to you as a sister in the Lord.”

Mrs. Needlemeier harrumphed at this thought but said nothing.

She leaned both hands on her silver-capped cane and awaited Rachel's explanation.

“I prayed about the choice I made,” Rachel began. “I prayed about coming to Casa Grande and I prayed about the girls I picked for my staff. Ivy was not one I would have chosen, primarily because a resort of this size and expectation needs to have staff members who are already well trained. Secondly, I have never cared for situations where people with money caused other people—good, faithful, hard-working people—to suffer loss because they were unable to compete with the money others used to buy themselves into a position.

“Your niece would certainly not be at this resort had I had my say in the matter. Not only because she is young but because she is totally new and inexperienced and the pressures that will come to her here are hardly fair to put upon a new employee. Also, there is the matter that this resort is looked upon as a privileged place of employment. Many requests for transfer were received for this house, but of course, only twenty-five could be accepted. To allow Ivy to take one of those positions, as well as Faith Bradford, the granddaughter of one of the board members, kept others who were more deserving from being allowed to serve here.” She paused, surprised that the old woman hadn't seen the need to interject her opinion on the matter. Grateful to find Esmeralda listening intently, Rachel continued.

“I prayed about each one of these girls, asking God to direct me in working with them. I continue to pray for each of them. I also asked for divine direction on choosing a head waitress. What few people know is that up until a couple of weeks ago, my head waitress was to be Mrs. Jeffery O'Donnell. She and I had worked together in Topeka, and I have come to consider her a good friend. However, she is expecting her first child and Mr. O'Donnell has requested she not work. That caused me to look elsewhere for a head waitress. After much prayer and contemplation, Gwen Carson seemed the most fitting. In fact, it would have been hard to explain choosing Simone O'Donnell over Gwen, as the latter has at least two years of service over Simone. So there you have it. I felt certain God had led me to make the choice of Gwen Carson. I would ask that you pray about it and see if God doesn't give you the same peace of mind on the matter. Rather than making this an issue of our wills, I propose it be given over to God for
His
supreme will on the matter.”

Esmeralda rose to her feet. “You make a logical argument and a wonderful speech. I suppose, given your reasoning, it makes sense to appoint this Carson woman to the position of head waitress. However, I'm used to getting what I want.”

Rachel stood and smiled. “I assure you, my choice was not made in order to deny you. You are an intelligent businesswoman; your dealings with the Santa Fe and Harvey Company are proof of that. Your creation of Morita is another. I would hope you might see the logic of my choice in that light, if in no other.”

Esmeralda tapped her cane to the door, then turned. “I am an intelligent woman, Miss Taylor. Intelligent enough to deal with your kind and any other who crosses my path. I will yield in this matter, but do not think to push me in any other. Regardless of your faith and religious convictions, God does not sit on the board of the Santa Fe, nor does He run the Harvey Company, although there are those who would argue that point. I am God-fearing and a Christian, but I am also a businesswoman as you pointed out. Therefore, the decisions I make will be based on what will benefit my business, and my business is Morita and this resort—despite any thought you might have to the contrary. Good day!”

She left in the same stormy mood by which she had appeared, and when she had gone, Rachel fell back into her chair in a rather exhausted state of mind. The woman was simply more trying than any person Rachel had ever known. With a sigh, she picked up her paper work and tried to refocus her attention, but it was almost impossible.

Between Ivy's conniving and hatred, Esmeralda's bossiness, and Braeden's presence, managing Casa Grande's dining room had ceased to be any fun. In fact, the stress of the whole operation was beginning to take its toll.

Then a frightening thought came to Rachel—one she tried very hard to ignore.

Perhaps she should resign her position and put in for a transfer elsewhere on the line.

  
ELEVEN
  

THE NIGHT AIR WAS COOL, almost chilly, as the shadowy figure slipped into Rachel Taylor's office. Quietly, the marauder closed the door, then lighted a candle. The dim amber light illuminated the office in an eerie manner, and this, coupled with the wind as it howled down from the mountains, set the stage for the covert scene. The wind would actually benefit the thief, throwing out noises and moanings as it whistled through the junipers, coyote willows, and jaboncillos to play itself out against the buildings of Casa Grande. That way, should some sound accidentally emanate from the scene of the crime, no one would give it a second thought. At least that was the plan.

Hot wax dripped down the edge of the candle, causing the thief to curse softly before tipping the candle in a different direction. It was always the little details that ruined great plans, and this plan needed very much to succeed. The job should be performed quickly, as well as quietly. Mistakes were not allowed.

Sliding Rachel's desk drawer out, the forager moved rapidly through the stack of papers until finally finding the one sought. Unfolding the bound copy, it was quickly scanned, deemed to be the necessary article, then refolded. The search continued until all of the drawers had been examined for content. Two other papers were confiscated, and finally the robbery was concluded.

The looter gave a momentary glance toward Rachel's bedroom. That door was securely closed—probably locked, but it didn't matter.

Patience needed to be practiced. Patience and wisdom. There would be time to see to her later.

Blowing out the candle, the thief quietly opened the door and stared out into the dimly lit lobby. The front desk was deserted and would continue as such until the grand opening brought in tourists and other celebrating fools. Pulling the door closed without a single sound, the marauder slipped the candle into a pocket and hurried away into the night. The first act of deception had played itself out rather nicely, but part two now needed to be planned.

Yawning, Rachel opened the door and stepped into her office. Though dressed to Mr. Harvey's standards and fully groomed for the day, Rachel couldn't seem to shake her weariness. She would have loved nothing more than to have remained in bed, but she saw little sense in it. Her mind simply wouldn't let her rest. She couldn't stop worrying about all the new complications to her job at Casa Grande, and with each succeeding thought she desired nothing more than to run away and hide. But she had a job to do—at least for now. She could give serious consideration toward her future while continuing to maintain her post.

She reminded herself that it was important to ensure that her girls were at their stations and performing. It didn't matter that she'd slept fitfully through the night, dreaming of Braeden Parker's strong arms and Esmeralda's scowling expression. The work had to be done, and until she resigned her position, the work remained her responsibility.

She heard a commotion down the long hall outside her door. The girls tried to be quiet for the sake of those who had the day off or were serving on a different shift, but nevertheless, it was hard to keep things absolutely still. A gathering of twenty-five girls would never be known for silence, but rather brought to mind giggles, scuffles, and shrieks of dismay, excitement, or protest.

Shaking her head, Rachel went to her desk and opened one of the drawers. It was payday, and she needed to complete some work before Jeffery O'Donnell appeared with the payroll. But before she could so much as find her pencil, a knock sounded on the lobby door.

“Come in,” she said, barely managing to stifle a yawn. She looked up and found Reginald peering in through the door. “Oh, good morning, Reg.”

“Good morning, milady,” he said, throwing back the door to give her a wide, sweeping bow. He looked up and smiled. “And how are we today?”

Rachel laughed. “
We
are tired.”

“You are taking far too much upon those delicate shoulders,” Reg said from the doorway. “Might I suggest a solution?”

Rachel shrugged. “If you think you have one.”

He smiled, came into the office, and closed the door. “Tell me what seems most taxing at this point.” He took a seat opposite her desk without waiting to be invited.

Rachel found his actions surprising but made no comment on that fact. “I suppose I'm worried about this inventory problem. Perhaps Mr. Parker was right in thinking that we should involve the local authorities.”

“That's possible,” Reg admitted. “However, I think your idea has merit.”

“It's just that I was hoping this wasn't going to turn into an actual problem. I wanted to believe that the inventory sheets were simply out of order.”

“And perhaps they are. You mustn't let it worry you, Rachel. We will do as you suggested and consider the inventory from day to day.”

“Yes, but that only adds more work and with the grand opening coming up so quickly, the last thing I needed was yet another job.”

Reg nodded. “Let me offer my services, then. I could easily put Tomas on the job to oversee the inventory for the kitchen and food. Perhaps one of your girls could help to keep a tally of the linens.”

“That's awfully kind of you to offer,” Rachel said, feeling blessed to have such good help. “But won't that put you in a bind?”

“I don't imagine it would be any worse than any other task. The key is to delegate the problem to others whose schedules are not quite so pressed. If not me, then you could always put several of your girls to work on the matter.”

“No, I think I would feel better having you take it over. I don't mind you having Tomas assist you, but I don't think it would be wise to share the girls on the task. They need to recognize my authority over them, and to put them into this situation would confuse that authority. You would have say over them working on the inventory, I would have say over them otherwise—and what would happen when the boundaries of one job crossed another? See my point?”