Helen Heals A Hotelier (Brides With Grit Book 10) Read online

  Helen Heals a Hotelier

  A Historical Western Romance

  Brides with Grit Series, Book 10

  Copyright © 2016 by Linda K. Hubalek

  Published by Butterfield Books Inc.

  Printed Book ISBN-13: 9781535568111

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016912380

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting this hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Except for the history of Kansas that has been mentioned in the book, the names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A sweet historical romance set in 1873.

  Helen Higby answers an ad for a mail-order bride, but finds out her groom is already married—and wanted by the law—after their wedding ceremony. Now stuck in Clear Creek, Kansas, with her four little girls, Helen needs a way to provide for her family.

  Ethan Paulson is in charge of the family hotel while his parents take an extended trip. Ethan’s fiancée, Sarah Wilerson, left him at the altar last summer and he’s had a hard time accepting her rejection—until a beautiful woman and her children take up residence in the Paulson Hotel.

  Helen had worked in a hotel in Pennsylvania before traveling to Kansas, so she helps Ethan organize and improve the offerings of the Paulson Hotel, while falling in love with him.

  Sparks fly when Mrs. Paulson, Ethan’s mother, returns to find changes, including a family making themselves at home in the hotel, and in Ethan’s heart. Can chaos and drama turn into love and a happy ending for everyone living in the Paulson Hotel?

  Dedication

  To mothers, past and present—

  thank you for loving every child, no matter their limitations.

  Chapter 1

  Late Fall, 1873, Clear Creek, Kansas

  Ethan looked up from his paperwork at the hotel’s front desk when the chatter of little girls grew louder. A girl, about ten years of age with dark red hair, proceeded to open the hotel door and let three smaller girls walk through to the foyer. With a little variation in hair coloring and looks, the three girls were almost identical to the first, except stair-stepping down in size and age.

  They were darling! And oblivious to their surroundings as they talked—or argued in the case of the two oldest—and made themselves at home in the hotel. All had on little bonnets of various colors, and the two youngest were tugging theirs off as they ran to the upholstered settee and crawled on it, not minding that their shoes were muddy. He’d have to let the housekeeper know to clean it as soon as the girls were off the furniture.

  Good thing Ethan’s mother wasn’t around or the girls would jump off at her first yell. His parents had gone on an extended trip back East, leaving him in charge for a change.

  “Iva Mae!” A woman called from outside the door and the oldest girl rushed back to open the door.

  “Oh, sorry, Momma!” The girl, apparently Iva Mae, held the door for the woman struggling to carry two oversized bags through the door. All he saw was the top of her hat as she looked down at her load.

  “Ma’am, let me help you,” Ethan said as he saw her predicament and walked around the desk to help her.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said with a smile as she dropped the bags to her side. Ethan was taken aback with her...well, beauty. Her auburn hair made him think of the dark cherry wood furniture in his upstairs apartment. Her porcelain skin was flawless, and without a single freckle on her cute nose. Did he just think “cute”? He should reserve that term for the adorable quartet of look-alikes.

  “Um,” the woman collected her composure and started again. “We need a room, please.” Then she looked around checking on her children. “Girls!” she loudly whispered. “Get your shoes off the furniture and mind your manners!”

  “Of course, let’s get you signed in and I’ll give you a key,” Ethan drew a deep breath as he walked around to the desk, watching as the girls straightened up on the settee.

  Why was he attracted to the woman, when obviously there was a husband somewhere since she had four children with her.

  Ethan turned the register book around so she could sign her name.

  “We’re here to get a new poppa,” girl three-in-line stated matter-of-factly.

  “Avalee! Please don’t blurt this out aloud to the world!” The woman’s eyes closed for a second before looking up to Ethan. They were dark green, a perfect complement to her hair.

  A new father? So she wasn’t married, yet.

  “So, you’re meeting someone here? How many nights do you need your room?” He added his second question to cover his curiosity.

  “Actually, I’m a mail-order bride and I’m to meet and wed my new husband tomorrow. I assume we’ll just be here for tonight, but I can’t say for sure until I visit with my husband.” She took a deep breath, obviously trying to stay calm for her daughters. Ethan watched her sign her name in the book, easily reading “Mrs. Helen Higby” since he was used to reading the ledger upside down.

  “Welcome to Clear Creek then, Mrs. Higby, and I wish you congratulations and best wishes on your nuptials.” What else could he say? The first woman he’d been interested in, since Sarah Wilerson left him at the altar on their wedding day, and she was here to marry. Ethan didn’t ask who the lucky groom was, because he was already jealous and didn’t want to know.

  “The key, sir?”

  “Uh, yes, let me get the key to your room and I’ll carry the bags upstairs for you. And my name is Ethan Paulson. My family owns the hotel.”

  Ethan picked up the bags and about dropped them again. Boy, were they heavy. What was in them, and how had she managed getting from the depot to the hotel by herself?

  “Since you’re moving here, do you have trunks I need to transfer from the depot over here for you?” Ethan said over his shoulder as he started up the steps.

  “Nope. Everything we own is in those two bags,” daughter number two pipped up.

  “Maridell!” Mrs. Higby shushed her daughter.

  So the daughters were Iva Mae, Maridell and Avalee, if he remembered them in the right order. And the toddler’s name is... Ethan waited because it would only be a matter of moments before Mrs. Higby talked to her.

  “Here, Luella, let me carry you upstairs.”

  “No! My self! My self!” Her mother sighed and let the child struggle up the stairs. For a two-year-old, Luella seemed to be having difficulty doing so, but Mrs. Higby let the girl crawl up the stairs at her own pace.

  Iva Mae, Maridell, Avalee, and Luella. Unusual set of names, but Ethan liked them and the chatter that followed him down the hall to their room.

  “Here you go. Room five. It has two beds in it.” Ethan put down the bags in the hall, opened the door and let the little family precede him into the room.

  The two middle girls squealed as they ran and launched themselves each on a bed, doing their best to make the beds bounce.

  “Girls, settle down. Mr. Paulson will think you were raised in a barn.”

  “It’s just been so long since we got to sleep in a real bed!”

  Mrs. Higby turned red-faced
to Ethan. “It was a long trip from Pennsylvania.” The next second she was catching Luella who tried to crawl on a bed but was falling backwards. She caught the child before her head hit the floor. The oldest girl had joined the others squealing and bouncing on the bed, and Ethan’s head was starting to spin.

  “Nuh uh, it’s been weeks since Luella’s poppa kicked us out of the house, and we’ve been traveling around on the train since then.” Ethan was sure that was Maridell’s comment.

  Weeks on the train? What kind of situation had Mrs. Higby and her children be in, not to have a home?

  Mrs. Higby was holding a hand against her forehead, like it was about to burst. Time to give them an opportunity to unwind. “Our dining room is open from five to eight for the evening meal, so you have time to rest first.”

  The girls’ chatter stopped mid-stream and they all turned to stare at their mother. Why?

  “I...I have some bread and cheese left over from our noon lunch so we won’t be down for supper.” Mrs. Higby straightened her shoulders but the girls’ slumped instead.

  Ethan noticed they had taken off their woolen capes and all were very slender, almost to the point of being too thin.

  He made a snap decision. “Meals come with the room, so do plan to eat at the hotel for supper and breakfast.”

  Mrs. Higby bit her lower lip, probably guessing he’d lied, but she nodded anyway after looking down at her children who had slipped around her again.

  “Do any of you like pie?” Ethan bent in half to get down to the girls’ eye level. Wide eyes—no pair matching another sister—blinked back at him in surprise.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had pie, but cherry is my favorite,” the oldest, uh, Iva Mae solemnly whispered. Ethan heard Mrs. Higby suck in her breath but she didn’t say anything.

  “Well we have a very special lady, Millie Wilerson, the marshal’s wife, who makes the best pies for us, and I’ll be sure to save a piece of pie for each of you. I think beef stew is the main meal tonight so a warm piece of fruit pie will just top off the meal, won’t it.”

  For being such a noisy bunch of kids when they came in, they sure wound down, looking like they were all needing a good nap in “real beds”, as whichever sister called them.

  No one said anything, so Ethan took that as his clue to leave.

  “If you need anything, please let me know. I’ll see you downstairs in a few hours.” Ethan nodded and backed out of the door before closing it. He couldn’t help pausing at the door a moment, slightly leaning back toward it, listening to the mother quietly talking to the girls. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he felt good they were under his “roof” so to speak. The little family looked like they had had some hard times.

  Ethan wondered again who she was marrying. He hadn’t heard of anyone in town or in the area, who had ordered a mail-order bride, let alone a family. Ethan also hadn’t asked for payment of the night, guessing the groom would pay for his new family when he joined them tomorrow. Mrs. Higby looked exhausted besides low on funds. He thought it better to save her pride and let her recuperate from her trip rather than bring up payment before ushering them to their room.

  He heard, rather than saw Mrs. Higby and the girls come downstairs for their evening meal. He didn’t peek as they trooped down the stairs, just smiled at the renewed chatter of the girls. Sounds like the long nap helped their wilted spirits. Hopefully Mrs. Higby rested also, instead of worrying about meeting her groom tomorrow.

  Ethan had told the cook about the family, so Irma knew to add extra meat to their bowls of soup, set glasses of milk out for the girls, plenty of sliced bread and butter, and to save a whole cherry pie for their meal. He wondered what the girls would eat best for breakfast, but Irma would figure it out.

  He had given them twenty minutes at their table before wandering in the dining room to check on them. “How was supper tonight, girls?” They might have been concentrating on their food, but heads perked up and the conversation commenced.

  “It was so good!”

  “Can I have more stew?”

  “When do we get our pie?”

  “More!”

  Ethan stepped back as he was bombarded with the girl’s remarks, not sure what order to answer them in. He looked to Mrs. Higby, who’s mouth was working fast to chew her mouthful of food so she could answer him.

  “I take it you like Irma’s cooking. I’ll be sure to let her know you liked it.” He couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s satisfied faces. They had needed a good healthy meal and he was more than happy to help out.

  “Thank you, Mr. Paulson. Please let her know the stew was delicious. Tonight’s meal was a real treat.” And probably a lifesaver for five growling tummies.

  “You are more than welcome. We want all our guests to enjoy the finest in dining.” Ethan knew he was staring at Mrs. Higby’s gorgeous hair since she had come downstairs without her hat, but it was like he couldn’t help himself, he was so drawn to her.

  “Here’s your dessert, young ladies,” Naomi, the waitress announced as she presented the cherry pie to the table. “Who wants the first slice?”

  Four hands and shouts of “Me!” immediately filled the air, causing other diners in the room to chuckle at the scene.

  “Mr. Paulson, there’s one piece of pie left in the pie tin. Do you want to join this little party of happy girls?” Now why did Naomi, old enough to be his mother, ask him that? He never sat down with guests. He looked at her and she winked, probably figuring out he was fascinated with the family, or Mrs. Higby?

  “Yes, please join us, Mr. Paulson. You’ve been so kind...” Mrs. Higby finally said after she realized he was still standing at the table.

  “Oh, uh, I’d be pleased to.” Naomi already had an extra plate and fork with her so she scooped the last piece on the plate and set it down on the table across from the oldest girl. Had Naomi been watching him watching them?

  Now he had five pairs of eyes on him while he ate his pie. He bet Naomi and Irma were peeking out of the dining room door watching him, too.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” It seemed like a safe subject to ask.

  Mrs. Higby had a smear of red cherry filling on the corner of her lip which he’d so like to wipe off. “I’ll meet Mr. Jensen tomorrow morning, then...I’m not sure.” She had that worried look on her face again.

  “What does this Mr. Jensen do? I can’t quite place him,” or know of him at all.

  “His letter said he owns a ranch north of town. Do you not know him? Mr. Maurice Jensen?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t made his acquaintance yet, but I’m sure we’ll be getting to know him better when he comes into town with you for church and school functions.”

  “There’s a school in Clear Creek?” Ida Mae asked. “We haven’t been to school yet this year since...” The girl stopped talking after glancing at her mother.

  “You’ll have to start next week then,” Ethan practically butted in to save the mother another embarrassed explanation. “The new teacher, Miss Maeve Ramsey, is well liked by the students and parents, and you’ll soon have new friends.”

  Ethan looked at Mrs. Higby who gave him a slight nod, probably thankful he gave the schoolteacher a good mark.

  “And I saw one church when we came into town? What denomination is it?”

  “Our only church is called the Clear Creek Community Church and almost everyone attends church there, instead of traveling further to Ellsworth where there are more churches.

  “Pastor Patrick and Kaitlyn Reagan are two of the most helpful citizens in town. Always feel free to knock on their door. They have six boys, so you’ll meet them at school.”

  “Eww, boys!” Ethan didn’t know which child proclaimed their annoyance with them.

  “Your tune will change in a few years,” Ethan couldn’t help teasing them, while looking over at Mrs. Higby, who smiled and gave a nod of agreement.

  Why was he wanting to spend time with this woman and li
ttle family? It was so unlike him. He’d been engaged to Sarah Wilerson…now Brenner, for a long time, but things were…always formal between him and Sarah. They didn’t tease each other or show much affection in public, or even alone when he thought of it. He inwardly sighed. Ethan had been moping around about Sarah marrying another, but…meeting Helen Higby put a spark in his heart that had been absent with Sarah. And just his luck, when he felt like his heart might feel attraction to someone again, the woman is marrying someone else, tomorrow.

  Chapter 2

  She could pull this off. She had to pull this off. Her daughters needed food, shelter and clothing, and this is why she was about to meet and marry a stranger she’d only met through a mail-order advertisement. The girls always came first and she’d do anything for them.

  Helen squared her shoulders again as she stood in the shadows of the building behind the depot. She wished she could see the people on the platform waiting for the train to come in but she didn’t dare risk a look. Her husband-to-be could be standing there, waiting for her departure from the passenger cars.

  A train whistle blew in the distance to the east, signaling its eminent arrival. Helen picked up her carpet bag, ready to dash to the tracks as soon as the train would hide her running over there. No. Stroll, don’t run...you don’t want anyone to see what you are doing.

  The train grinded to a halt and Helen smartly walked from her hiding place to the opposite side of the train, facing the platform. Taking a quick glance each direction first, she pulled herself up the steps on one of the passenger cars. She leaned against the wall behind the door until several people walked out of the car and down the steps onto the depot platform. When there was a break in the departure of passengers, she eased around the door and walked down the steps onto the platform herself, acting like one of the many people who had been riding the train for the past day.

  Helen looked through the crowd hoping Maurice Jensen didn’t see her departure. She wrote in her last letter that she would meet him inside the depot, just for the very reason she planned to arrive in town the day before.