Chapter Three

Calling herself every sort of fool for wandering into the midst of railroad men who were evidently passing the time before the last train left for the day, Myrtle tried to shake free from the hand wrapped firmly around her arm.

“I’ll thank you to release me, sir,” she demanded, her words merely earning her a grin from the man holding her, the distinct smell of whiskey wafting from his breath the moment he opened his mouth.

“Now, there’s no need to be like that. I’m a fun man, and me and the rest of the boys enjoy spending time with attractive women such as yourself. I bet you’re a Harvey Girl, and everyone knows you Harvey Girls like to have fun as well.”

“You’re mistaken,” she bit out as she tried to tug her arm free. When he tightened his grip and leaned closer to her, Myrtle had had quite enough. Drawing back her free arm, she let it fly, the book she’d brought with her to pass the time until Jack arrived connecting soundly with the man’s nose.

A howl of rage erupted from him as he stumbled backward, but then he found his balance and narrowed his eyes at her. Swiping a hand over a nose now bleeding profusely, he raised his fist, exactly as if he was about to strike her.

Bracing herself, she closed her eyes and drew in a breath, holding it for what seemed like forever as she waited for a blow that didn’t come. Opening her eyes when she ran out of air, she blinked and then blinked again at the sight before her.

Jack was standing directly in front of her, and he held on to the man who’d been accosting her by the scruff of his neck. He wasn’t saying a single word, but his eyes were flashing with fury.

“Mr. Daggett,” the man said in a voice that had risen a good octave since the last time Myrtle had heard him speak. “What are you doing here, sir?”

“I think a better question would be what are you doing?” Jack countered in a deadly tone that had the man turning an interesting shade of red, although that might have been a result of how Jack was holding him around the neck.

“I didn’t mean no harm, sir. She’s just a Harvey Girl, and—”

“She’s not just a Harvey Girl. She’s a lady, as are all the Harvey Girls,” Jack interrupted. “You’ll apologize to her, and then you’ll get yourself on that train over there. You then need to steer clear of El Tovar, because I won’t be held responsible for what happens to you if I see you around here again.”

The man shot a nervous look at Myrtle, then looked at Jack, who arched a brow. The man turned back to Myrtle again. “Apologies, ma’am. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, was just tryin’ to be friendly. There was no need for you to break my nose.”

“She had every reason to break your nose, and that wasn’t a good enough apology. Try again,” Jack said.

The man licked his lips, swiped a hand over a nose that was still dribbling blood, then nodded at Myrtle. “I beg your pardon for touchin’ you and beg your pardon for not mindin’ my manners.”

Myrtle inclined her head. “Apology accepted, but do know that we Harvey Girls do not appreciate uncouth men. If you’d ever like to impress a Harvey Girl in the future, you might want to brush up on those manners of yours.”

As the man nodded, Jack released him, and after scooping up his hat from the ground, the man turned and fled in the direction of the train, the other railroad men racing after him.

Jack waited until the men disappeared onto the train before he moved to where she’d dropped her book. He picked it up, dusted it off, then handed it back to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m fine. Annoyed with myself for forgetting how rowdy the railroad men can be this time of day, but fine all the same.” She caught his eye. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“I wanted to tear him limb from limb.”

“That would have been a sight, but with so many families around, I’m thankful you weren’t forced to resort to that. Frankly, I think you won the battle the moment he recognized you.”

Jack shrugged, then surprised her when he took her arm. “I travel on trains often, so I’m a known figure to the railroad men. I readily admit I’ve often used my size and reputation to settle disputes that are far too common.” He smiled. “Men do seem to enjoy throwing themselves into fights. I’ve gotten remarkably adept over the years of knowing how to end fights with relatively little blood spilled.” He gave her arm a pat. “But speaking of blood, I do think you broke his nose.”

She winced. “That was quite unintentional, and I almost regret it.” She held up the book in her hand. “It seems somewhat fitting, though, that Dracula would be behind all the blood spilled.”

Jack pulled her into motion. “You’re reading Dracula?”

“For the third time. It’s a riveting tale, although I probably wouldn’t be reading it again if I had other books to read. El Tovar does offer its guests a small library, but I’ve read almost everything available and am currently waiting for some books to arrive that I ordered over a month ago.”

To Myrtle’s delight, Jack surprised her by launching into a discussion about books—those he’d read, those they had in common, Dracula being one of them, and books he was looking forward to reading in the future. His ability to converse so easily on the subject took her completely aback, especially since he’d barely spoken to her over the months they’d known each other.

“My younger sister, Sadie, is currently reading a book by Edith Wharton. Perhaps you’ve read it as well—The House of Mirth?”

It took a great deal of effort to suppress a shudder. The truth, of course, was that she’d read The House of Mirth, but Myrtle had found it beyond depressing. Rumor had it that the author had based her characters on members of the New York Four Hundred—the cream of society. As she’d been reading the book, Myrtle had recognized many of the characters as society members she actually knew. One of those characters greatly resembled her distant relative, Caroline Astor, a woman Myrtle was only slightly acquainted with because Caroline, being in her late seventies, currently spent her days locked away in her Fifth Avenue mansion. Caroline, or so they said, was now a shell of the woman who’d once been considered the queen of society and was no longer capable of mingling with the New York Four Hundred, which she’d been responsible for creating along with the social arbiter of that day, the late Mr. Ward McAllister.

“Should I take your silence to mean you’ve not read Edith Wharton’s book?” Jack asked, pulling Myrtle back to the conversation at hand.

Even though she’d not been hiding the fact she’d once been a member of New York high society—although she’d never actually told anyone at El Tovar the details of her past—Myrtle had the uncanny suspicion that Jack wouldn’t be pleased to discover she’d spent years mingling with the elite of the country.

Jack seemed to be a complicated man, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he possessed some measure of wealth. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d earned that wealth on his own, but it had been her experience that self-made men were somewhat touchy when it came to matters of high society. New York society was filled with the most snobbish people in the country, ones who believed that the nouveau riche were not cultured enough to enter their hallowed circles. Myrtle knew from gossip she’d been privy to over the years that the nouveau riche were prone to dislike the established rich, probably because of the abuse they suffered whenever they had the audacity to try to become accepted into the highest societal circles.

“I have read the book, Mr. Daggett, but I didn’t particularly care for it,” she settled on saying after she realized Jack was waiting for her to answer what should have been a fairly simple question.

“Since you did save my life, do you think you’d feel comfortable calling me Jack?”

Myrtle’s knees immediately turned wobbly. “I suppose I could do that, but only if you agree to call me Myrtle—although not when I’m working, of course. Mr. Eliot might take issue with that, and I would hate to get terminated from my position as a Harvey Girl.”

Jack stopped walking, glanced around, then drew her over to a stone bench that afforded a wonderful view of the canyon. Helping her take a seat, he sat down beside her, studying her for a long moment before he tilted his head. “I’m curious as to why you decided to become a Harvey Girl.”

The casual way he posed the question left her frowning. “Why do I get the distinct feeling you might already know the answer to that?”

“Because you probably saw Walter chatting with Miss Ruthanne Hill?”

She blew out a breath. “That would explain why Walter kept throwing guilty looks my way every time I passed by him in Ruthanne’s section.” Myrtle shook her head. “And here I was, thinking he looked guilty because he’d abandoned my section and was having Ruthanne bring him slice after slice of pie instead of me. Frankly, I was going to ask if your brother had come down with a stomachache after consuming so much pie, since he didn’t join us for our stroll this evening.”

“Walter eats like a horse, and I’ve never known him to come down with a stomachache. But because you’ve brought him into the conversation, I should probably take a moment to try to explain the completely unacceptable statement he made to you before the whole choking incident.”

“The one where he all but proposed for you?”

“So you did pick up on that. I was hoping you might have misinterpreted what he’d been trying to say.”

Myrtle grinned. “That would have been tricky, since he was pretty determined to make sure I knew you were in the market for a wife.”

“He was wrong for speaking for me. In his defense, though, he’d apparently concluded I was making a muddle of everything with you and decided to take matters into his own hands and blurt out that bit about me being ready to settle down.”

Anticipation licked its way up her spine, mixed with a sense of curiosity, because she’d never spoken with a man about marriage before—Percy not really counting since theirs had certainly not been a normal relationship. Setting her book on her lap, she struggled for something to say in return, finally settling on the only question that sprang to mind. “Have you been looking for a wife long?”

“Truth be told, I’ve not given the thought of taking a wife much thought at all. That is, not until recently.”

“How recently?”

Jack took off his hat, placed it beside him, then raked a hand through his hair. “Perhaps it would be for the best to return to the subject of books.”

“Because you’re not comfortable discussing how recently you decided to turn your attention to finding a wife?”

“I’m not really comfortable discussing much with you, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that by now.”

Myrtle smiled. “You seem to be growing more comfortable holding a conversation with me this evening.”

He raked his hand through his hair again and sent her a rueful grin. “Since this day has served up one embarrassing moment after another, I suppose there’s no reason to stop now.” He caught her eye. “So, to answer your question, all I have to say is this.”

When he suddenly stopped talking and began watching her far too intently, quite like he’d done often over the past few months, Myrtle pressed her lips together to keep from smiling but finally felt compelled to speak after a full minute passed and Jack remained mute.

“Have you lost the thread of our conversation, Jack?”

He blew out a breath. “I haven’t lost the thread of our conversation. I just don’t know how to phrase what I want to say.”

“I’ve always found that simply spitting it out in these types of situations is best.”

“Sound advice to be sure.” He caught her eye. “I’ve taken a shine to you, Myrtle. In fact, I’m, ah, well, smitten with you.”

Of anything she’d been expecting Jack to say, that had not been it. “You’re . . . smitten . . . with me?”

“Guilty, and that’s why I’ve been thinking about taking on a wife.”

Myrtle’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t just propose to me, did you?”

Jack rubbed a hand over his face. “This courting business is far more difficult than I expected, but no, that wasn’t a proposal, although I do hope that doesn’t disappoint you. I assure you, I’m certain if I ever do extend you a real proposal, I’ll make an attempt—or I imagine I would—to do a better job of it.”

A sigh of relief escaped her. “You haven’t disappointed me. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to offend you by telling you I think it’s too soon to discuss much of consequence between us.”

Jack grinned. “Thank goodness. I was afraid I was going to have to tell Walter I’d made a complete mess of matters again, and there’s no telling how he might react to something like that.” His grin faded. “But with that settled, allow me to redirect the conversation to something we touched upon a few minutes ago: the reason you became a Harvey Girl. Walter told me that Ruthanne told him that you came west because of a broken engagement.”

Myrtle refused a groan. “She probably wanted Walter to tell you about my broken engagement so you’d understand why I’ve vowed to swear off men forever.”

“She did make a point of mentioning that to Walter.”

“Did she also mention that I might have recently been reconsidering that vow?”

What appeared to be male satisfaction flickered through Jack’s eyes. “She might have touched upon that idea as well. Is it true?”

“Don’t be smug. It doesn’t suit you. But yes, I have been reconsidering it.”

His lips curved into a smile before he suddenly sobered. “What happened with your fiancé?”

“He fell in love with someone else.”

“Then he’s a fool, because you’re the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen.”

Never in her life had anyone proclaimed her beautiful, and that those words had been spoken by a man who was one of the most masculine men she’d ever met brought tears to her eyes and robbed her of anything remotely intelligent to say in return.

“Have I said something to upset you?” Jack asked, moving closer to her on the bench as he actually took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“No one has ever called me beautiful,” she returned in a voice no louder than a whisper.

“Then you’ve been surrounding yourself with the wrong sorts, because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And before you argue with that, know that I’m very well traveled. I’ve seen many ladies, but none of them compare to you.”

Myrtle dashed a gloved hand over a tear that had fallen from her eye. “Those are some of the nicest words I’ve ever heard.”

Jack frowned. “Didn’t your ex-fiancé extend you compliments?”

“Percy and I weren’t officially engaged, although we’d shared an understanding for years that we’d eventually marry, something both of our parents wanted to see happen. In all honesty, though, and with the distance my position as a Harvey Girl has given me, I’ve come to realize that Percy didn’t suit me in the least. He was often short with me, didn’t appreciate that I enjoy books, and hated my name because some people referred to me as Myrtle the Turtle because my head is often buried in one book or another.” She smiled as a bit of temper flashed through his eyes. “There’s no need to be offended on my account, though. I’ve always found the nickname to be ridiculous because turtles don’t read books, but it bothered Percy, which is why he began calling me Mertie instead of Myrtle, since Mertie doesn’t rhyme with turtle.”

“I have the strongest urge to run this Percy down. Have a bit of a chat with him. But just so you know, I think Myrtle is a lovely name.”

For a second, Myrtle had the distinct desire to throw herself into his arms, or better yet, kiss him, but luckily sanity quickly returned, which left her settling on giving his arm a good pat.

“You’re very kind, Jack, but there’s no need for you to intervene on my behalf with Percy.”

“You could still tell me where he lives.”

“You’re also apparently a bit tenacious. Percy, since I have the sneaking suspicion you’ll keep asking, lives in New York, where I’m from, but I don’t want you to track him down. That would lend him the impression I’m still bothered about him abandoning me for another lady. The fact of the matter is, I stopped caring and thinking about Percy months ago. He’s probably happily married by now to his Miss Davis, and at this point, I wish him well and am actually thankful he jilted me, because if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have come west.”

“So you did take up a position as a Harvey Girl because of your broken engagement.”

Myrtle turned her attention to the canyon. The ragged rocks, brilliant colors, and an endless sky still seemed foreign to a woman used to living amongst tall buildings, and left her slightly awestruck as she considered Jack’s statement. Turning back to him, she frowned. “In all honesty, taking on a position as a Harvey Girl was more of a way to escape the gossips than a desire to distance myself from Percy.”

“Did you live in New York City?”

“I did, and while it’s an enormous city, you’d be surprised at how small it can seem at times. Word spread quickly about Percy taking up with Miss Davis, and I soon found myself the object of pitying looks and whispers about spinsterhood.” She smiled. “I’m twenty-three, you see, an age considered by many to be firmly on the shelf. My mother was distraught about my new situation and began hinting that she was going to take aggressive steps to find me a husband. After learning that, I decided I needed to seek out some counsel about the matter, which is how I found myself sitting in Grace Church, speaking with Reverend Jonathon Mayhew about what to do with my life from that point forward.”

Jack frowned. “I’ve been to New York City and have actually visited Grace Church. From what I saw there, it was a church that was attended by a lot of well-heeled patrons.”

“It is one of New York society’s favorite churches, but not everyone who patronizes Grace Church is of the society set.”

Realizing she’d just been given the perfect opening to disclose that she’d once been a member of high society, Myrtle opened her mouth but closed it again when Jack somewhat absently picked up her hand and sent her a smile that caused her pulse to begin racing.

“I suppose churches do cater to a wide variety of patrons, although the churches I normally frequent are incredibly small and more often than not held in the railroad workers’ camps out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I wouldn’t mind attending a church like that. It would definitely lend a certain atmosphere to the sermon.”

“Indeed it does. But returning to Grace Church, may I assume Reverend Mayhew lent you some valuable advice?”

She smiled. “Frankly, he was somewhat vague, saying I needed to pray about the matter and then follow the directions God would most assuredly send me. I thought my time with Reverend Mayhew hadn’t been well spent, until I left the church and stopped to buy a newspaper from a boy who was trying to unload his last copy of the New York Herald.”

“And that boy had something to do with you becoming a Harvey Girl?”

She laughed. “No, but the newspaper he sold me had an advertisement about the Harvey Girls. It occurred to me that God might have sent me in the direction of that newspaper boy because the moment I saw the advertisement, I knew I was meant to turn my back on the gossips in New York City and find my way west.”

“And you came directly to El Tovar because of that advertisement?”

“I went to Chicago first, where I was interviewed and given a bit of training.” She grinned. “Frankly, I needed more than a bit of training. I’d never worked in service, you see, and learning how to pour the perfect cup of coffee was far harder to master than I thought. I also had to learn how to carry food on a tray without dropping it on an unsuspecting guest, as well as get accustomed to being on my feet all day, but I won’t bore you with a laundry list of what my initial training involved. When I was done with my training, though, I was convinced I was going to be sent off to one of the more obscure Harvey locations, but to my delight, I was told management had decided I would fit in well as a Harvey Girl at El Tovar.” She leaned forward. “Apparently my proficiency with proper etiquette impressed them, which is why they sent me to work in what is known as one of the more desirable Harvey Houses.”

“And your mother was fine with you taking on a position that sees you working such long hours and serving customers?”

“Not at all. Mother was furious and threatened to cut off all contact with me as well as any financial support if I went through with my plan. She made good on that promise after she realized I was heading west despite her protests, which is why I’m thankful to have a position at El Tovar. I’m also thankful that Mr. Eliot told me just the other day that he’d be happy to extend another contract to me once my six-month contract is up in about a month.”

Jack’s gaze sharpened on her face. “Your contract is up in a month?”

“It is, and I’m perfectly content to sign another one. The Harvey Company demands its girls sign contracts, mostly as a way to keep an eye on us and have us abide by their rules. I haven’t found those rules too bothersome, although I do wish we weren’t held responsible for keeping our aprons and bibs starched, ironed, and pristine. It takes me a good hour every night to get them looking shipshape, and I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the most proficient with an iron yet.”

“You have to iron your own aprons?”

“We do, but we’re not responsible for laundering our work clothes, just ironing and starching the aprons. They send our clothing out to be cleaned because they expect Harvey Girls to project a certain image, and nothing could ruin that image more than Harvey Girls wearing clothing that has been improperly laundered.”

“But aren’t you tired after working your long shifts? You must find it daunting to then have to see to the task of your aprons.”

“Most certainly, but I enjoy my work as a Harvey Girl. I never imagined myself as a waitress, but there’s something fulfilling in knowing I do my job well, and there’s also the bonus of getting to meet so many new people every day.” She smiled and blew out a breath. “But enough about me. Tell me about you and that business Walter mentioned, as well as that house you’re building in Michigan.”

“I don’t really like talking about myself.”

“And isn’t that too bad, since I’m curious to learn everything about you? Especially what type of business you’re involved with that sees you traveling around the country so much.”

Jack rose to his feet, helped her to her feet as well, then took her arm and started strolling down the path that bordered the rim of the canyon. As they strolled, he began to tell her all about how he’d come up with a resin that was in much demand, apparently warming up to the idea of speaking about himself because his tone took on a distinct trace of enthusiasm. After he finished telling her how he’d gone about selling that resin to more and more businesses, he told her about the factory he’d built in Michigan to produce the amount of creosote he needed to fulfill orders, explaining that he’d settled on Michigan for the location of the factory because that state still produced a large percentage of lumber for the country, even though the lumber industry was in the process of moving farther west.

After that, he turned to the subject of his family, telling her that he’d built a house for his parents and younger sister, Sadie, but that Walter lived in his own house, as did Jack’s two other brothers, both of whom were younger than Jack, but older than Walter. A hint of wariness suddenly settled in his eyes as Jack stopped walking and turned to face her.

“All of my brothers have gone on to pursue formal educations and earn college degrees, but I feel compelled to disclose that I don’t have a degree. In fact, I only finished the eighth grade and am not proud of the fact I’m an uneducated man.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but I find it ridiculous that you’d be ashamed of your lack of formal education.” Myrtle reached out and took his hand, evidently surprising him with that action, because his eyes widened. “You may not have a formal degree, but I know men who pursued degrees who didn’t amount to much. You, on the other hand, have enjoyed what sounds like remarkable success, and you also seem to be well read, which means you’re not illiterate. Add in the notion that you’re providing for your entire family, and I’d say you have more than enough reason to be incredibly proud of all of your accomplishments.” She gave his hand a squeeze.

For the longest time, Jack simply stared at her. Then his lips curved into an honest-to-goodness smile, one that took her breath away, as he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on it.

“I believe I’ve just realized that you’re even more beautiful on the inside than you are on the outside, Myrtle. And while we did agree that it was far too early to discuss anything of consequence between us, I’m afraid I’m going to break that agreement.”

Myrtle blinked. “You are?”

His smile widened. “Indeed. Because, you see, I seem to be notoriously horrible at matters concerning you, so to avoid any misunderstandings, I need to ask you something.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and that something is this.” He paused for a moment but only because he gave her fingers another kiss. “I would be humbled and incredibly grateful if you would allow me to court you.”

“You want to court me?”

“In all honesty, I want more than . . . well, best not to get myself into trouble by moving too quickly, but yes, I would like to court you.”

It took all of a second to nod, and then, after she found her fingers being kissed again, it took all of another second to completely abandon her vow of swearing off men forever, because somehow, and she wasn’t exactly certain how, Mr. Jack Daggett, the most intriguing man she’d ever met, was courting her.