On the Tuesday night before her parents were set to arrive, Abby prepared herself for her final etiquette class. The past few weeks had given her plenty of opportunity to continue with the work the Lord had given her, shaping the town’s men into gentlemen. She felt almost as happy about their progress as she did about her own on the church’s piano. How she had summoned the courage to play for Sunday services two weeks in a row was beyond her. Still, she counted it all joy.

“James chapter one, verse two,” Abby said aloud … and then giggled.

Looked like Cookie was rubbing off on her.

About an hour before class was set to begin, she went to the kitchen to check on the snacks. She caught Cookie in a belly laugh. Jin must’ve said something funny just before Abby walked in, because Cookie was doubled over. Minutes later, Jin left to gather eggs from the henhouse and Abby took advantage of the moment to talk to Cookie.

“Tell me about Jin,” she said.

“Jin?” Cookie’s lips curled up in a smile. “What do you want to know?”

“He’s just so sweet. I’ve never heard him say an ugly word to anyone.”

“You’ll never find a finer soul. He came to the area three years ago, I believe. Looking for gold, like so many from China.”

“But he didn’t find any?”

“Oh, he found plenty. Sent it all back to his parents and siblings in China, from what I’ve been told. And just for the record, his real name isn’t Jin.”

“It’s not?”

“No. But Jin means gold, so his family members gave him that name before he left to come here.”

“Do you think he’s planning to stay?”

“Ask him yourself. His English is getting better every day.”

“I know. I’ve been amazed at how well he’s been able to communicate with me.”

“He’s a fine man, Abby. A kind man. And I can tell you with certainty that his heart is right with the Lord.”

“I’m so glad.” She paused to think this through. “You know, Cookie, I’m learning that our preconceived ideas are rarely God’s best. Not saying I had any ideas about Jin … I just rarely gave him any thought at all. He’s been a permanent fixture in this place, a real rock, and I hardly noticed the role he’s played. I’m ashamed that I scarcely paid attention to him.”

“Plenty of time to notice from now on, honey. And as for our preconceived ideas—about people, places, or things—this is exactly why we need to listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit. He can whisper into our ears and nudge us in the right direction. Often the right direction is the opposite of the way we’re headed, which requires an about-face, but turning around is always for the best.”

“Yes, I agree.” Like she had turned away from the Lucky Penny and bolted toward the door.

Jin entered the kitchen again, with the gathered eggs in a basket. Abby waited until he set the basket down then walked his way and took his hand. “Jin, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you for teaching me so much about kitchen duty over the past few weeks. You’ve been a real godsend, and I’m very grateful.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Abigail.” His deep-brown eyes sparkled in obvious delight. “My pleasure.”

Abby’s heart warmed with kindness toward the man as she headed into the dining room to locate Sam. She found him at the register checking in a new guest, a fellow from Indiana. His words, “Welcome to the Gold Rush Inn” made her smile. In fact, everything about Sam made her smile these days. The way he laughed at Neville’s dry jokes. The way he swiped Cookie’s Snickerdoodles when she wasn’t looking. Even the way he poked fun at her.

Yes, Sam was most certainly growing on her.

Les entered the restaurant at the same moment Sam headed toward the stairs to carry up the guest’s bag. Abby turned her attention to her friend and welcomed her with a cheerful, “Good evening, Lesley.”

Unfortunately, she only saw concern in Lesley’s eyes.

“Are you all right?” Abby asked.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Abby.”

“Do what?”

Lesley pointed down at her skirt and blouse. “Keep up this charade of dressing like a lady. For one thing, I can’t take all the whooping and hollering from the men. They never treated me like that before. What difference does a dress make?”

“To them, a lot, I guess.” Abby shrugged.

“It’s just the wrapping on the package. I was okay with the wrapping before. And Marcus isn’t really paying any more attention to me now than he was before. It’s been weeks, and he doesn’t even give me a second glance.” She plopped down at the table nearest the door and sighed. Loudly.

Abby’s heart quickened as she heard Marcus’s name. “Would you mind terribly if I shared a story about him, Lesley? I think it might change your mind about the man.”

“Sure. Be my guest.”

Abby told the whole tale of how things had gone at the saloon two weeks back. Lesley listened quietly, but when she got to the part where Neville punched Marcus in the jaw because of what he’d done to Abby, Lesley sprang from her seat. “That oaf! He put his hand on you … where?”

Abby pointed to her backside. “He’s no gentleman, I assure you. And Les, it pains me to tell you this, but he has joined himself with those women at the saloon. I saw him coming down the stairs with two of them, after …” She paused and cleared her throat. “Spending time in their company privately.”

Lesley groaned. “So much for thinking he was the fella for me. I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time thinking about him at all.”

“Appearances can be deceiving, I guess. Just because a man’s in a fine suit doesn’t mean he’s a gentleman.”

“And just because a gal’s in a skirt doesn’t mean she’s a lady.” A little sigh followed. “I think my days of pretending to be something I’m not are behind me, to be quite honest. I’ll go back to being Les, the hermit who lives alone in the house on the hill. The fellas can admire me for my gold, not my dresses.”

“I wouldn’t give up just yet, but neither would I encourage you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Abby rested her hand on her friend’s arm. “Lesley, you were a lady long before I dolled you up. And any man in his right mind would have already taken note of that. So don’t get all wound up about Marcus. Pray and ask the Lord to show you who He’s got in mind for you. I suspect He will answer sooner than you think.”

“Hopefully he won’t care if I’m in dungarees or a ball gown.”

“He won’t care either way,” Abby countered, “but just for the record, you look lovely in that skirt, and I adore your hair long and flowing down your back like that.”

“Thank you, Abby. You’re such a good friend.”

Moments later, Neville entered the room. Something about him looked different, but she couldn’t place it. Abby narrowed her gaze as she tried to figure it out.

“Well, go ahead and say it.” He stroked the sides of his face. “I look more American, wouldn’t you say?”

“More American?”

Cookie came out of the kitchen with a tray of sweets in her hand, which she almost dropped when she saw Neville.

“You’ve done it!”

“Yes.” A sly smile turned up the edges of his lips. “I have, indeed.” He pointed to the space where his graying sideburns had once resided, and Abby gasped as the realization hit.

“That’s it. You’ve shaved off your sideburns.” A pause followed as she took in his new appearance. “I’m not saying I think that’s a bad idea. I’m just surprised.”

“Someone convinced me they were too formal for San Francisco.” He gave Cookie a nod. “So, I decided to try out a new look.”

“It suits you, Neville.” Cookie looked amused as she got back to work. “Gracious, but it suits you.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a wink. “Now, would you happen to have any chocolate cake in that kitchen of yours? I’ve got a hankerin’ for chocolate.”

“But … I thought you said you didn’t like chocolate?” Abby pursed her lips as he disappeared into the kitchen.

A short while later, a rush of local men entered the dining room for their evening lesson. Some of the same fellows who raised such a ruckus at the Lucky Penny a few weeks back, arrived, all sobered up. Abby did her best not to judge, as Cookie had suggested, in the hopes that extending grace would win them over to a better way of life.

The lesson went even better than before, including the dance portion, where she called on Sam to help her demonstrate the waltz. He seemed happy to be of service. Judging from his jovial expression, he had an even better time than she did.

In that moment, as she observed the relaxed expression on his face and the spring in his step, Abby felt convinced that her place of service was right here, offering lessons to these men.

And the women. She couldn’t help but notice that Les had a wonderful time on the dance floor as well. With Neville as her partner, she sashayed in 1-2-3 time, over and over, a relaxed smile on her face. Only when Jin cut in did Neville relinquish his spot as Les’s dance teacher.

Neville grabbed Cookie in his arms and they took off across the floor in perfect rhythm. Abby was fascinated, watching this newer, freer version of the stiff, proper butler she had once known. How would he respond when the time came to head back to Philadelphia? She couldn’t imagine him slipping back into his role as a family servant.

When the lessons ended, Cookie served up slices of cherry pie and told the fellas all about her plans to open the bakery in a few weeks. This got a rousing cheer out of everyone in attendance.

Well, everyone but Jedediah Tucker. As the men quieted down, he raised his hands and got everyone’s attention.

“Something you want to say?” Cookie asked.

He nodded. “Yes’m. Just wanted y’all to know that I … well …” He beamed, as if holding some sort of secret. “I’ve decided to go back home.”

“For your daughter’s wedding?” Abby asked.

He nodded and she grabbed his hand and took him for a jig around the room to celebrate.

“I’m so proud of you!” she said when they’d wrapped up the dance.

“Me too.” Cookie waggled her finger at him. “Now, shave off that fool beard and present your wife and daughters with a clean-shaven face when you get home. And remember all the things you’ve learned from Abby over the past few weeks. Don’t want to find out all of this was for naught.”

“Oh, I will, I will.” He flashed Abby a grateful smile and then took a bite of pie.

Abby had to wonder if things could possibly get any better. She caught a glimpse of Sam and gave him an appreciative nod. He was as much to blame for this as she. His efforts with the men were being rewarded, as were hers.

Across the room, Jin and Les chatted about something or another. He must’ve said something funny, because Les laughed. Abby approached them to offer a thank-you for attending her classes.

She arrived just as Jin pulled back Les’s chair. Les thanked him as she took a seat. Then Jin pulled back a chair for Abby as well.

“You’re learning a lot,” she said as she took a seat. “Such a fine gentleman you’re turning out to be, Jin. Truly.”

“Thank you, Miss Abby.” His gaze shifted to Lesley. “And may I say, you look lovely tonight, Miss Lesley.” His words came out crisp and clear. “Like a vision from above, if I might be so bold.”

Les’s cheeks flushed pink. “Why, thank you, Jin. What a kind and generous thing to say.”

“Your eyes are like flowers on hillside in sunshine. I tell Mr. Sam last spring how much your eyes remind me of larkspur.”

“Last spring?” She glanced up at him, her blue eyes widening in obvious surprise. “Really? You noticed back then?”

“Of course.” He brought his hand to his chest, his words even more serious than before. “Always, they have captivated me.” He paused and appeared to be thinking. “Captivated … right word?”

“Captivated, right word.” Abby and Les spoke in unison, and they both laughed.

Lesley beamed. “A girl could get used to hearing such things. I will have to visit more often.” She faced Jin, a twinkle in her eyes. “What’s on the menu tomorrow night? Maybe I’ll stop in for dinner and we can talk some more. I’ve had a hankerin’ to learn Chinese, Jin.”

“Chinese? Yes.” His eyes sparkled at this news. “Tomorrow night fried chicken. Plucked by Miss Abigail.”

“Then I’ll skip dinner and just come for lunch.” Les slapped her thigh and released a belly laugh. “The last time I ate chicken plucked by Miss Abigail, I got a mouthful of feathers.”

Abby almost fell out of her chair giggling at this one. She managed to get control of herself just as Sam’s father entered the room. Judging from the serious expression on the man’s face and the fast clip as he headed straight for his son, Mr. Harris had something rather urgent on his mind.

“What is it, Father?” Sam looked up from his spot at the table near the kitchen as his father paced back and forth. “You’re making me nervous.”

His father took a seat and placed his hands in his lap. “You’ve seen me coming and going a lot these past few weeks.”

“Yes. I … I haven’t had the heart to bring it up, but I have been concerned.”

“The truth is, son, I’ve been spending time with Maggie O’Callahan.”

“Maggie O’Callahan, the washerwoman?”

His father nodded. “Didn’t quite know how to tell you, if you want the truth of it. Maggie’s been mighty lonely since her husband died last year, and I …” His words faded at the same moment his cheeks flamed red. “Well, doggone it, I’ve been pining away for her for nigh on three months now, so I finally worked up the courage to tell her. We’ve been seeing each other ever since, but I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Father, I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll be happy for us, Sam. Say you’ll be all right if I choose to up and marry her. That’s my plan, anyway, unless she changes her mind.”

“You’re getting married?”

“Mm-hmm. Middle of August, soon as her son and daughter-in-law can get here from New York. But that isn’t all.” His father rose and the pacing started again. “Giving thought to selling the inn.”

“Selling the inn?” Months ago, this news would have delighted Sam. Now it put a hole in his heart. “Do you have a buyer?”

His father’s gaze drifted to the table. “I’ve had an offer from Marcus Denueve.”

Sam’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He lowered his voice to a strained whisper so that the others in the room wouldn’t overhear. “Father, you can’t be serious. You know Marcus Denueve better than anyone. He’s trying to take over this town, one business at a time. You’d be playing right into his hand if you sold to him. It wouldn’t end well for anyone.”

“I didn’t say I planned to do it, just that he placed an offer. A generous one.”

“You’re dead set on retiring after …” Sam could barely get the word out. “Marrying?”

“The inn is a lot of work, as you well know. And with prices going up every day, I don’t know how I can keep it going. Marcus has painted us into a corner.”

“Which is why I’m so shocked you would give thought to selling to him, of all people.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, actually.” His father appeared to lose himself to his thoughts. “Sometimes the tide is against you. And right now, my heart just isn’t in it. One day you’ll understand, son. You’ll fall in love.”

The words cut deep. Sam was already feeling the emotional tugs of what he believed to be love, only the one he cared for would soon be leaving. She would go, then Father would sell the inn, and Sam would be on his own—with no one. Nothing.

Sam rose and walked toward the kitchen, his thoughts tumbling. Finally, he turned back in his father’s direction to speak his mind. “I’m sorry, but this conversation has taken me totally by surprise.”

“No doubt. I understand you’re surprised. I told Maggie you would be. But don’t you see, son? I’m getting older. That’s why. A man can’t go on working forever.”

“Are you giving thought to going back home to Independence after you marry?”

“No, but if I sell the inn—”

“Something I hope you won’t do.”

“If I sell the inn, I would move into Maggie’s place. She’s got that nice house on the west end of the district. It’s just the right size for the two of us.” He flashed Sam a smile. “And big enough for a few grandkids to visit, when the time comes.” Just as quickly, he sobered. “I know how badly you’ve wanted out of this situation, son. You’ve hated San Francisco and this inn from the get-go. To be honest, I figured this idea would delight you.”

Funny how things had changed, and in such a short time too.

Sam decided to end the conversation on a positive note, so he congratulated his father and then turned to head up the stairs.

Abby approached just as he grabbed hold of the stair railing. “Everything all right, Sam? You don’t seem yourself.”

He shook his head as he gazed into her beautiful eyes. “No. Not sure I can talk about it right now, though. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, then.” She rested her hand on his arm and gave him a tender glance, one that pricked at his heart. “But I’ll be praying, Sammy. Whatever it is, God is big enough to handle it.”

He wasn’t sure which touched him more, that she wanted to share his burdens with him, or that she’d called him Sammy.

He settled into bed a short time later. The noise from downstairs dissipated and he knew all the fellas had left for the night. Still, his father’s news kept him wide awake.

The lingering smell of Cookie’s cherry pie hovered in the air adding further distraction. Perhaps a trip to the kitchen was in order. Just for a nibble, of course. He could think more clearly with the taste of cherry pie on his lips.

After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen.

What he saw next almost sent him reeling backward, out of the room.

Cookie.

And Neville.

Wrapped in each other’s arms.