Meg shot up in bed. What time was it? Had she slept in? What time was she supposed to be up, anyway? Mrs. Castle had not specified what time she desired Meg to arise the next day. She’d simply stated that she wanted Meg to rest as much as she could.
It had felt strange sliding on her nightgown and slipping into the freshly washed sheets. Everything was warm and soft in this house, but it was hard to enjoy. She half expected the door to open and Charles Lars to walk in ready to strike. She didn’t know why she was still scared of him. Logic told her that Charles was unlikely to come after her. She was safe here. Besides, there were many who would love a chance to take her place in the Red Bear Hotel, although Charles would have to actually pay them a salary. Meg walked over to the small table and poured the pitcher of water into a bowl to wash her face. She looked up at the mirror. Still bruised, but her eyes were bright with rest and her skin seemed rosy. It was a shame Jonathan had not seen her like this.
Meg shook her head and walked away from the mirror. She pulled her hair back in a bun and brushed a piece of hair over her face. Hopefully, Jonathan would be an infrequent visitor. A man with his looks and beguiling smile was dangerous, and already he was playing tricks with her mind—tricks that made her want to admire herself in the mirror or go shopping for a fine dress, searching for a beauty she would never find. “Stop it Meg,” she ordered herself. Life had given her a second chance, and that was more than most people ever got. She would not cater to her silly affections and make herself miserable.
“Rose and Anna are making lunch. I imagine you’re hungry,” Mr. Castle remarked when Meg passed her in the hall. She instinctively did a little curtsy as was custom for the help in the Red Bear Hotel. “Lunch? I thought it was morning. I’m so sorry! I never sleep in this late.” Her heart began to race. What will they think of me?
“My dear girl,” Clark’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “You have no need to apologize. You needed the rest.”
Meg nodded, trying not to breathe too quickly. She did not want Mr. Castle seeing her wince. She took his offered arm and walked with him.
Clark brought her into the kitchen where Rose was bouncing Daisy on her hip and dropping teaspoons of sugar into a cup of tea. Mrs. Castle was setting the table with a bowl of raspberries, toast, and sausage with golden onions.
“Good afternoon, Meg,” Anna smiled with delicate lines framing her eyes. “I am making a hearty lunch since you missed breakfast. Luckily, the workers have already eaten. They are all very excited about having a cook, especially since I can’t keep up with their appetites.”
“I am sorry that I overslept. It won’t happen again.” Meg eyed the raspberries that looked so plump she imagined they would pop if she touched them. A flicker of excitement danced within her. Cities had to buy produce from the country, so it was rarely fresh.
“I slept in as well,” Rose smiled. “Daisy was as tired as I was. She finally woke up to eat; otherwise, I could have slept all day.” She stretched out her legs, and Meg suppressed a surprised laugh to see that Rose was barefoot.
When Rose saw Meg staring at her feet, she leaned forward and whispered, “I hate shoes, but it’s a secret, especially since heels are in fashion right now.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” Meg whispered back. “What time do I give the workers breakfast?” Meg asked, blushing shyly when Mr. Castle pulled out a chair for her to sit.
“Very early, I’m afraid,” Anna frowned. “I hate getting up early. Something I did not think of when my husband and I started this dairy,” she shrugged with a girlish ease. “You will have the twins to help you as we mentioned before. They cook very well when they wish to, but most of the time they don’t like to prepare anything other than watery porridge. They do follow directions very well and have been with us for years. Their names are Frank and Bill, and they have hearts of gold, though they rarely smile.” She placed a pitcher of thick milk on the table. “The men eat at four-thirty, then again at noon, and dinner on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Those are the days they stay late. I cook our family’s meals so there is no need to worry about that.”
When Meg looked disappointed, Anna chuckled, “Dear heavens, girl, you look like I crushed your world.”
“Oh, it is simply that I am so grateful to be working here that I would like to repay you for your kindness.”
“My dear, you will be doing the work of five women. Trust me when I say it is I who should be on my knees thanking you. However, I will not refuse your help with dinner should you ever desire it. I have a feeling, though, that by the end of the day you will be wanting to rest.”
Anna finished up her cooking and sat down beside her husband. Meg waited to be excused since servants did not eat with their bosses, but Mr. Castle began to give grace and Meg quickly bowed her head.
When the prayer was said and thanks given, Mr. Castle reached for the sausages. “I am allowed sausages every now and then,” he said as his wife began to protest. “Jonathan has me on some old man’s diet,” he sighed, sharing a chuckle with Rose.
“It is a healthy diet,” Anna gently reminded him. She glanced at Rose. “Jonathan has always looked out for us. Rose, I thought we should take Meg shopping today. Maybe get a pastry at Kyle’s bakery, visit the bookstore, the dress shop. What do you say?”
Meg looked over at Rose who was now stroking the curls on Daisy’s head. Daisy, in turn, was using her chubby hands to grab the fork and spoon. “Yes, let’s. Tall Pine is such a beautiful town, and I am eager to visit Kyle’s.”
Anna gave her a proud look. “You’ll be bringing Daisy, of course.”
“Of course.” Rose snuggled her nose into Daisy’s cheek, “Do you still have the old pram I used to push my dolls in?”
“No, that fell apart, but when we learned of your arrival, your father bought one. Well, he bought the parts and made one.”
Rose looked lovingly at her father who tossed her a wink.
“I am excited to buy a Sunday dress for Meg,” Anna said as she looked at the young cook.
Meg shook her head stiffly. “Um, Mrs. Castle, I really think I should stay and make a start in the kitchen. I haven’t attended church services for a long time.”
A knock on the door made Meg jump. Mr. Lars has come for me and will drag me back to Denver. Rose took Meg’s hand under the table and squeezed it.
“That’s Jeffries, the dairy’s manager,” Rose explained to her, knowing Meg had good reason to be easily frightened. “He always knocks with that rhythm.”
When the knock sounded again, Anna sighed. “Come in!” she called.
Jeffries walked in, taking off his hat and giving a polite nod. “Clark, the pasteurization is done; I just need your approval before it’s stored.”
Meg bit her cheek when Jeffries called Mr. Castle by his first name—workers simply didn’t do that, let alone a black man to a white man. She’d seen colored men beaten for less.
“Perfect Jeffries, I’ll be right there. Do you want some lunch?” Clark said with a tone of easy friendship.
“No, thank you,” Jeffries grinned warmly. “You know I like to eat with the other employees.”
Clark raised an eyebrow. “You trying to make me feel guilty Jeffries?” he joked.
“Maybe,” Jeffries made a face of absolute seriousness. “I just have to remind you that you don’t deserve Miss Anna, if I want to keep you on your toes.”
Anna laughed, “And this is why I adore you, Jeffries.”
The manager chuckled and turned his attention to Rose. “It’s good to have you back, Miss Rose.”
“Thank you, Jeffries,” Rose replied, her eyes twinkling.
When Jeffries had shown himself out, Meg leaned towards Rose and whispered, “Has he been here long?”
Rose nodded. “Came to Tall Pine a year after my father did. So, he’s been with us for over twenty years.”
Meg nodded, wanting to hear more, but she didn’t want to pry. Instead, she turned her attention to her food, thinking that she could not remember the last time someone had cooked a meal like this for her. Even in its simplicity there was a feeling of tenderness that accompanied each bite. She was being served; it was different, even awkward, but so nice.
“Don’t get used to it.” Good things rarely lasted, this much Meg knew. Her father had been good, and he left. Her mother had been kind and then grew despondent. Charles Lars had brought hope and had turned venomous. Even God—she had known Him once, but He had abandoned her, refusing to grant her prayers for deliverance. So she’d stopped asking.