City Girl by Lori Wick

that Reagan was eating. It told him she’d been hired.
    â€œWhat is it, Pierce?”
    â€œI was wondering if you’d had a chance to look at those ledgers yet.”
    â€œYes, they’re done and on my desk.”
    â€œThank you.”
    After he walked away, Sally shook her head.
    â€œHe drives me crazy.”
    â€œWhy do you keep him on?”
    Her brows rose as if Reagan should know.
    â€œHis manners at the front desk are excellent. The customers love him.”
    She sounded so aggrieved that Reagan smiled.
    â€œWell, if you’re finished eating, you can clear out.”
    â€œYou don’t want help tonight?”
    â€œTonight’s all done—that’s what you’re eating. I’m always done cooking by three, and the waitresses, who will be here any minute, do the coffee and small stuff.”
    Reagan stood. “So I’ll see you in the morning.”
    â€œFour o’clock.”
    Reagan stared at her for a moment.
    â€œThank you, Sally, for everything.”
    â€œYou’ll earn it, Reagan,” the older woman said confidently, albeit kindly.
    Reagan retrieved her bag from near the door and stepped outside. It was time to head home.

    â€œHere you go,” Holly said to her daughter that evening as she handed her a piece of bread.
    â€œThank you, Mama.”
    â€œHow about you, Russ?”
    â€œYes, please. Elly, would you please pass me the butter?”
    The ten-year-old handed it to him and then realized she needed it back for her own bread. They spent a little time working together and then laughed when seven-year-old Jonah realized he needed bread with butter too and the passing began all over again. Nine-month-old Alisa sat in the high chair, smiling at anyone who would look her way and cheerfully eating whatever was offered.
    â€œSomeone is in the little house, Papa,” Jonah announced to his father.
    â€œMama told me,” Russell said. “Did you meet her?”
    â€œNo, she’s not home now, so we can’t meet her.”
    â€œI think I might have met her earlier today,” Russell told his children. “A woman asked me to watch her traveling case, and I think it might be the same one.”
    Having said this, Russell found his wife’s eyes on him.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    â€œIs that the only bag she has—the one you watched for her?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Holly worried her lower lip for a time.
    â€œRussell, she probably doesn’t have sheets or blankets or anything. I left a lantern, but would she find it and the matches if she didn’t return until dark?”
    Husband and wife finished eating as soon as they could, and leaving Elly in charge of her siblings, took their own lantern to the rear of the lot toward the little house. Even from a distance they could see a light burning. Holly knocked on the door but still called out so as not to frighten their new tenant.
    â€œReagan, it’s Holly.”
    The door opened.
    â€œWe’re sorry to disturb you, but we thought you might need some things.”
    Reagan didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the large man behind Holly. When he smiled, she recalled her manners.
    â€œCome in,” Reagan invited and stepped back. Even so, Reagan took a moment to recover, especially since the room shrank visibly with the blacksmith inside.
    â€œWe wanted to make sure you had everything you need, Reagan,” Holly said again, having already taken in the things laid on the dresser, but also seeing absolutely nothing on the bed. The room was warm from the fire Reagan had lit in the stove, but Holly was not comforted.
    â€œI’m doing fine,” Reagan assured her landlady. “But if I could impose upon you for one thing, I would be very grateful.”
    â€œJust name it.”
    â€œA pillow. I don’t think I’ll sleep well without it.”
    â€œBut you do think you’ll sleep well