Rainy Day Dreams: 2 Read Online Free PDF

a complete opposite to Mother, the woman before him would be his top candidate.
    Arranging his lips into a polite smile, he said, “Thank you, Madame Garritson.”
    An unladylike cackle issued from deep inside her ample bosom. “Madame it is.” She started to leave, and then stopped and turned back with a sly grin. “Forgot to ask. Did you want to hire my girl to see to your needs?”
    While inspecting his room he’d forgotten about Miss Bergert. Her shocked expression upon discovering that she was being hired as a maid had wrung an unexpected response from him. For a moment he’d felt sorry for her. What position had she expected to take when she arrived? He didn’t know, but clearly it was something different. Taking a servant’s role would no doubt be hard for one soarrogant, though a lesson in humility might soften the sharp edges of her personality a bit.
    But that was not a task he wished to undertake. The very reason he had agreed to come to Seattle was because there would be few females to distract him from the business of managing a successful steam mill operation. Why put himself directly in contact with one? His heart belonged to Beth, and he intended to remain true to her for as long as it continued to beat.
    “Thank you, but I believe I can manage without any assistance.”
    Madame Garritson shrugged. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
    She waddled down the narrow hallway toward the stairs. Jason closed the door with a soft whisk and turned to rest his back against it. His gaze was drawn to the crate. The painting inside begged to be released and allowed to breathe, to spread oil-and-canvas sunshine into this gloomy room. Into his lonely heart.

     
    When the proprietress descended the stairs once again, Kathryn crossed the floor to meet her head-on, heels echoing on the unfinished plank floor.
    “Cousin Mary Ann, there has been a mistake.”
    The woman stepped off the bottom step with an umph and continued without a pause toward the closed door next to the desk. “Call me Madame Garritson, like everybody else. Wouldn’t want to give the impression of favoritism, would we?”
    “Certainly not.” Actually, she preferred not to advertise her kinship with this crass person, however distant it may be. She followed close on the woman’s heels. “My father arranged for me to help with the management of this hotel, not to become a maid.”
    “Management?” She made an impolite sound halfway between agrunt and a snort. “No mistake, missy. Except I thought you’d be”—she paused with her hand on the knob and sent an appraising glance the length of Kathryn’s body—“different.”
    Kathryn drew herself upright. How offensive! “What do you mean?”
    A hand reached out to finger a bedraggled lock of hair that had begun to dry in the warmth of the fire. “Fancier, you know? Being from San Francisco and all, I figured you’d dress nicer, fix your hair up, maybe use a bit of rouge to give your face some color. Philip described you as an attractive girl.” She pursed her lips. “ Accomplished was how he put it.”
    Papa had called her accomplished ? Kathryn indulged in a moment of satisfaction. He’d never encouraged her pursuit of art. Why, she’d come to believe he thought her without talent. “I am an accomplished artist .” She lifted her nose in the air. “I paint landscapes.”
    Madame gave a rude snort of laughter. “What use is a painter to me? Help emptying chamber pots and straightening bed linens, that’s what I need.” With a smirk, she pushed open the door, gesturing for Kathryn to follow.
    The idea! “I most certainly will do no such thing.”
    They entered a generously sized room fitted with a few mismatched pieces of plain, block-style furniture. A large window looked out onto a stand of trees so dense that shadows dark as night filled the spaces between them. The glass had been left open and rain had blown in, leaving puddles on the floor.
    Madame Garritson