An Unconventional Lady Page 2

  “Here we are.” Miss Cartwright beamed, opening a door off a hallway leading from the kitchen. “Once you have your uniform, come to the dining room, and we’ll get you situated right away.”

  Annie forced a smile. My, how she did rattle on, but one couldn’t help but feel welcome in the friendly woman’s presence.

  “I run a tight ship here, but I try to do so with a firm and loving hand. No complaints so far.” Miss Cartwright smiled again. “Mrs. Oakley, here is our new girl, Annie Rollins.”

  A woman as round as she was tall sat in a rocking chair in front of a line of black dresses. “Why, you’re a tall, willowy thing, aren’t you? And as lovely as the sunset over this grand canyon of ours. Oh, a split skirt. You must be quite the adventurous sort.”

  “I like to think so.” Annie stood in front of her.

  “I’ll leave you two to get busy.” Miss Cartwright backed out of the room.

  The seamstress heaved her bulk from her chair and reached for a box above her head. “The bow will look grand in that pouf of yours.”

  “Let me help you.” Annie reached up and easily grasped the box.

  “Thank you, child. Now take a bow, and in the basket there are aprons. On the shelf over there are shoes.” Mrs. Oakley ran her hand along the gowns, finally choosing one. “I think this will fit. Might have to let the hem down a bit, but you’ll be a vision of loveliness. Pretty as a swan.”

  “Or a stork,” Annie muttered.

  Mrs. Oakley chuckled. “You have a fine sense of humor, too. You’ll make some man a good wife.”

  “I’m not looking to get married. At least not for a long while. I have dreams of leading groups of people into the canyon.”

  “Oh, well.” Mrs. Oakley’s eyes widened. “Ever done that before?”

  “No, but I aim to learn.” She almost revealed how much her mother detested her dreams, but years of hearing how one mustn’t air one’s dirty laundry echoed.

  “I reckon you’re a gal who might just do that.” Mrs. Oakley handed her the dress. “Go on, put it on.”

  “In front of you?” Annie clutched the uniform.

  “Nothing I ain’t seen before. Just strip down to your undergarments.”

  Annie turned her back and disrobed, squelching her sense of modesty. She donned the yards of fabric and sighed. The skirt stopped a couple inches from the tops of her shoes.

  “Don’t worry,” Mrs. Oakley said. “It’s just a matter of taking out the hem. The rest of the dress fits you fine. Take it off, sit a spell, and I’ll have you ready by lunchtime.”

  What had Mother gotten her into? These people were friendlier than a medicine man passing an offering hat. Mother always said folks should stick to their own, but Annie found herself thrust into the middle of a gaggle of women who talked more than they breathed.

  After getting dressed, she sat in a chair across from Mrs. Oakley and waited while the woman made the alterations. Sounds of meal preparation reached her from the other side of the door. Dishes clattering, steam hissing, women chattering. Delicious aromas drifted through the cracks, beckoning like presents on Christmas morning.

  Annie took a shuddering breath. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to act like a lady. Would she find a friend among the other waitresses or be shunned for her tomboyish ways? Most of the town’s women seemed to consider Annie a bad influence on their daughters. Lord, let them like me.

  She stood and opened the door to peek out. A portly man, a young boy and several girls bustled around the modern kitchen like ants, all smiling. Maybe Annie would be happy, too. Regardless, she planned on doing good work. Papa always said any job worth doing was one worth doing right, even if it wasn’t your job by choice.

  “Here you go.” Mrs. Oakley interrupted her thoughts. “Get dressed, make sure to read the hundred and one rules up on the wall.” She winked. “And then go find Miss Cartwright. You, Miss Rollins, are going to help tame the West!”

  But Annie didn’t want to tame the West. She liked it just the way it was.

  * * *

  Dallas offered his best friend, Rascal, a sugar cube he had swiped from the kitchen, then rubbed the horse’s nose. “The place is filling up, boy. Looks like we might have a group to take sightseeing soon.” He turned and leaned against the split railing that made up Rascal’s stall. “There’s another guide in town, but I heard he’s gone a lot. I hope I don’t let these people down. The way I figure, you and me might ought to take a ride into the canyon and get familiar with the place after I grab a bite to eat.”

  With a final pat, he slipped on the jacket he had hung on a nail, and set off toward El Tovar, casting a guilty glance at his new residence. It wasn’t that Mrs. Rollins was a bad cook; it was more her sour attitude that turned him away. Something made that woman mighty sad, and while his heart ached for her, he didn’t relish eating within sight of her dour countenance if he didn’t have to. Besides, he wanted to get a good look at the pretty Harvey Girls. One of them might become Mrs. Baker someday.

  His boots clopped across the wide porch of the hotel. He tipped his hat to a couple ladies lounging in rocking chairs, and then pushed through the door. A hostess led him into a dining room way too fancy for the likes of him, dressed as he was in leather britches and a faded shirt.

  With a smile, the hostess handed him a dinner jacket. “Dress requirements, sir.”

  He should have known. Slipping his arms into the too-tight garment, he followed the waitress.

  “Will this suit you, sir?” The pretty girl smiled and waved a delicate hand toward a table for two.

  Dallas caught sight of Annie behind a long wooden bar. “How about over there?”

  “The lunch counter? Good choice, sir. Our waitresses make wonderful sandwiches.” The hostess turned and led him to a stool at the counter. Dallas could almost make out his reflection in its polished sheen.

  “Good morning, Annie.” Dallas perched on his seat.

  The young woman with Annie whispered something in her ear. Annie turned and smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Baker. Do you have a sandwich preference?” She filled the cup in front of him with coffee.

  “Surprise me.” He grinned.

  “As you surprised me yesterday?” Her eyes flashed.

  When would she realize he’d had no idea he was stepping into something she wanted? “Hopefully, the sandwich will leave a better taste in my mouth than my arrival did in yours.” He took a sip of his drink.

  Annie jerked, dribbling coffee on the countertop. Grabbing a napkin, she bent closer and wiped at the liquid, lowering her voice at the same time. “Let’s hope so.” She straightened and flashed a grin. “I think a turkey sandwich would suit you fine, since we’re fresh out of polecat.”

  Dallas spurted coffee across the counter, then laughed so hard he thought he’d split a rib. He’d been called many things before but never a turkey, and definitely not by someone with such a pretty smile. “That will be perfect.”

  From the scowl on the other waitress’s face, Dallas figured Annie’s remark had been overheard. He hoped she wouldn’t get in trouble. After all, she’d said it with a smile, and he had no qualms about sparring with such a pretty gal. Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing that split skirt thing. She looked like a regular lady now, even with the high hair.

  A train whistle blew. The Harvey Girls snapped to attention, smiles in place, ready to greet the arriving customers. In Dallas’s opinion, they put the army to shame the way they lined up at the signal. He turned on the stool to watch the show.

  As customers were seated, one waitress filled drinks while another took meal orders. Before he could register what was happening, his coffee was refilled and his sandwich set in front of him. The stools along the counter gradually filled with men.

  Annie began at one end of the counter, greeting each man as if
he were the only customer in the place, then moved to the next. What would it feel like for her to greet Dallas with the same sincere smile? He’d find out someday, for sure.

  The man to his right spoke. “First time here?”

  “Yes, you?” Dallas turned back to his lunch.

  “Nope. I make a point of stopping every time I’m in the area. The Harvey restaurants are the best along the Santa Fe and have the prettiest waitresses. Some of the girls are married within months of taking the job, but I’ve got a wife back home. Seeing these lovely ladies makes me miss her.” Annie asked if he wanted coffee, and the man nodded.

  “I wouldn’t mind marrying one of these gals.” Dallas took a bite of his sandwich. Fresh turkey, crisp lettuce and well-aged cheese. They didn’t skimp on quality, that was for sure.

  Annie snorted and moved down the line. Obviously, she didn’t agree with his comment.

  “That gal there—” the man lifted his cup in her direction “—is a tall, cool glass of water. Why, I guess she’s all of five foot nine. It will take a big man to handle her.”

  Dallas grinned. The man had no idea how correct he was in this case. “I reckon you’re right. She’s got a bite for sure.”

  * * *

  Listen to the men talking, as if she couldn’t hear. Annie sniffed. Was that what the restaurant was? A matchmaking service for men looking to get married? Annie wanted to slam down the next man’s coffee and dash outside.

  She needed to find a way to squelch any notions of marriage. Until she was at least twenty-five. She just needed to convince Mother that her sneaky trick of trying to marry Annie off wasn’t going to work. She would most likely have a better chance of roping the moon.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” The last man in a long line at the counter grinned under a waxed mustache. “Care to keep me company later?”

  Annie filled his drink. “Thank you, but we aren’t allowed to fraternize with customers.”

  “You look feisty enough to break the rules.” He grabbed her hand.

  With a tilt of her pitcher, Annie splashed hot coffee across his wrist. The man yelped and pulled away. “Why, you little—”

  “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Let me get a cool rag for you.” Annie turned, biting her lip to hide her grin.

  The man lunged over the counter. “You did that on purpose!”

  “You’re mistaken.” Her heart seized when she saw the glare in his eyes.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. “You owe me a kiss for that little trick.”

  “That’s enough.” Dallas grasped the man’s shirt collar and yanked him back. “This lady isn’t that type of gal. I think you need to leave.”

  The man looked up at Dallas towering over him. He growled and stormed from the restaurant.

  “Thank you.” Annie sagged against the counter. “I don’t think I can work here if that is going to be the norm.”

  “It won’t.”

  She stared. “How can you say that, Mr. Baker? You were doing the same thing.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” He looked confused.

  “Really? You and your friend...” she pointed down the bar “...were discussing finding brides among the Harvey Girls.” She leaned closer across the counter, her nose even with his chin. It was rare to find a man she could literally look up to. My, his eyes sparkled. No, she was furious and wouldn’t be sidetracked. “Has it occurred to you that not all women hope to be married as soon as they are out of short skirts?”

  “Well, no, I, uh, well, I thought all women wanted to be married.”

  “Someday, perhaps, Mr. Baker.” Annie took a deep breath, ready to let loose another string of words. “But not yet.”

  “Back to work, Miss Rollins.” The head waitress tapped her shoulder. “Thank you, sir, for coming to the aid of one of our girls.”

  “It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” Dallas nodded and left the dining room.

  Annie took a deep breath, pasted on the required smile and got back to work. She could assess her feelings and attraction for the man who’d stolen her dreams later.

  Chapter 3

  Dallas gave Rascal his head and let the horse pick his way down the steep trail into the canyon. Thank goodness his sturdy horse was used to climbing in and out of gorges. Allowing the horse free rein gave Dallas time to organize his thoughts regarding Annie and her views on marriage.

  Had he been as bad as the man who’d accosted her? He still found it hard to believe that the lovely gal didn’t want to get married. Ever since they were out of pigtails, his sisters had thought of little else. They’d known the color of dress they wanted to wear years before they were old enough to wed, or had a man snagged.

  The horse stumbled on loose rocks, almost going to its knees and waking Dallas from his daydreams. He glanced over his shoulder to see how far they’d come.

  A woman’s silhouette stood outlined on the canyon’s rim. Dallas smiled. No one needed to tell him who watched from above. If he were closer, he’d wager steam came from her ears at her inability to follow. He actually looked forward to the next time he could get into a verbal sparring match with Annie. She might not want to marry, but she was great fun, nevertheless.

  A cottontail darted in front of the horse. Rascal hopped, coming too close to the edge of the trail for Dallas’s comfort. If they fell, it was a long way down. Once they got to the canyon floor, they could both breathe easier.

  The sun hung high overhead by the time they reached bottom. Dallas removed his hat, hoping to catch a breeze. Rascal headed straight for the river. Dallas wouldn’t mind a drink of cool water himself. It might be a mite chilly at times on the rim, but down in the canyon the sun beat with ferocity on his head and shoulders. He shook his canteen. Half-full.

  He dismounted by the river’s edge and dipped his bandanna in the cool water of the Colorado. Closing his eyes, he wiped his face before standing, and let the water soak the neckline of his shirt.

  “Hold it right there, mister.” A low, gravelly voice and the distinct sound of a gun being cocked apprised Dallas of the stranger’s intentions.

  He held up his hands, bandanna dangling from his fingers, and took his time turning. “Can I help you with something?”

  The wiry man in front of him looked as if he’d baked under the sun for years. “You can get back on your horse and skedaddle. This is my spot.”

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong there.”

  The man poked Dallas in the chest with the barrel of his gun. “I said git! Any gold here is mine, and I’ll shoot the man that says otherwise.”

  How was Dallas supposed to lead visitors to the canyon for camping trips if there would be a threat of danger such as a man gone loco? “It’s a big river. Can’t you move to a different spot farther upstream?”

  The man narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “No, I don’t reckon I can.”

  Dallas sighed. “Look. I’ve been hired to lead tourists into the canyon. In a few weeks, there will be a lot more folks down here than just me. I’m suggesting you move for that reason and no other.” He figured the chance of finding gold in a river was slim to none, and the old coot had as good a chance in a different location. “Unless you move away from the hotels, you’re going to be bothered quite a bit. There’s a promising bunch of rocks down the river that might yield you some color.”

  The man lowered his weapon and frowned. “I reckon you’re right. I ain’t had much luck in this spot, anyway.” He grabbed the reins to a swaybacked mule and meandered off.

  One more reason why a male tour guide was the wisest choice. Dallas hated to think what might have happened had Annie been caught alone. With her sharp tongue, she might not have been able to talk the man out of shooting her. Dallas chuckled. Most likely, the old coot would have shot her just to make her stop talking.
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  The area a few feet from the water looked smooth enough to pitch some tents. All he’d need to do was move a few rocks to make the ground less uncomfortable. They could use the stones to form a fire pit. As he paced the riverbank, he envisioned the campsite in his mind. Women’s tents on one side, men’s on the other. Mules could be tethered over there. A heavy rain would derail things a bit if people were caught in a downpour, but even that could be withstood by moving the tourists under an overhang if they were caught unaware.

  How many times did Mrs. Rollins intend him to guide people? Once a week? Twice? All year? The place would look mighty pretty covered with snow.

  He leaned back and popped the kinks from his spine. Winter in the canyon would sure be something to look at. Guess there were quite a few questions he needed answers to. Too bad he couldn’t ask the pretty Annie.

  He could imagine how that conversation would go. Probably as well as rain on the Fourth of July. He whistled for Rascal to follow, then continue his stroll along the river’s edge, noting places of interest and those where a person might find trouble. Yes, sir. Women were not meant to be trail guides. There were way too many problems to figure out, and women just weren’t made that way.

  * * *

  That evening, Annie kicked a rock over the lip of the canyon. What was taking that man so long to return? She had a million questions about what it looked like down there.

  Smoothing the black fabric of her uniform firmly across her backside, she plopped on her favorite fallen log and prepared to wait. With supper served, and Mother reclining from a headache, Annie had plenty of time to waste waiting for the scoundrel who’d taken her dream away. She sighed and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees.

  Maybe she didn’t have her facts completely accurate. Mother never did say she’d agreed to let her be the tour guide, but it was definitely Annie’s idea. No dispute there!

  The rattle of rocks alerted her to Dallas’s presence before the horse’s head came into view. Annie popped to her feet and patted her hair into place before trotting alongside the horse.