elbowed her in the ribs.
“Oh, yes, I have.” Adele pasted on a smile. She shouldn’t be so melancholy – at least they were having guests.
“I’ll get your bags, shall I?” Father turned toward Mr. Kroger, the local conductor, steward and porter. Adele was surprised he didn’t run the train too – that privilege belonged to Mr. Lansing. The two men ran the three-car train that came to Clear Creek twice a week. They brought the mail and orders the Dunnigans had made for the mercantile. Once in a great while, such as today, they even brought passengers.
“So, Belle,” Betsy said, finally getting a word in. “What’s the news?”
Mother’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Adele and back. “I’ll fill you in later. Right now, why don’t we get the two of you settled? Are you sure you want to stay at the hotel? We have plenty of room at the ranch.”
“Yes, we have plans to make, you know,” Leona said. “Isn’t that right, Betsy?”
Betsy smiled and nodded, but looked questioningly at Leona. Didn’t she know what the woman was talking about? “You’ll enjoy the food at the hotel,” Adele said, trying to be polite.
“We’ve heard that,” Betsy said with a smile. “But I’d like to share a meal or two with Irene and Wilfred. I can’t wait to see them.”
Leona sighed. “I wish I could’ve spent more time with them when they were in Nowhere, but things didn’t work out. At least I got to see her at the Christmas dance.”
“Well you’ll have plenty of time to see her this trip,” Mother said.
Father approached with their bags. “Ready, ladies?”
Mother looped her arms through Leona and Betsy’s. “Would you like to rest up the rest of today and join us for dinner tomorrow at the ranch?”
“I think so, though we might pay a visit to Irene,” Betsy said. “Leona, what do you think?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m dying to see the mercantile.” She eyed Betsy. “I’m surprised you aren’t heading there now.”
Betsy rolled her eyes. “She thinks that just because I run one, the first thing I want to see is another one. I only want to see Irene and Wilfred.”
Leona winked at Mother. “Of course, she does.” They laughed and continued to the hotel.
Adele hung back with Father. “Is Leona always so talkative?”
“I admit, I don’t know her as well as Betsy. But I dare say, she does seem excitable. I’m glad she’s happy to be here. Both are very entertaining.”
Adele smiled. She wished she had friends in other places, so she could get out of Clear Creek once in a while. At least she could enjoy her parents’ friends while they visited.
When they reached the hotel, the Cookes stopped to let their guests admire it. “My, my,” Leona said. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Betsy?”
Betsy gawked. “Connie Ferguson would bust a gut if she saw this.” She glanced at Adele and back. “She owns the hotel back home. It’s nice, but nothing like yours.”
Father laughed. “I dare say, Cyrus Van Cleet spent a pretty penny on this. Back then he called it his ‘little project’.”
Adele followed their admiring gazes. The hotel was large for the town and quite ornate, painted a pretty blue with white trim. It was completed in ’61, a few years before she was born, and like everyone else in town she was proud of it. “Wait until you see the inside.”
“I admit, Belle,” Leona said, “when you first described it to me, I didn’t believe you. But it’s more beautiful than I thought it would be.”
“Let’s not stand here a-gaping at it,” Betsy said. “I want to see the inside.” She detached herself from Mother and headed for the hotel doors.
“Has anyone told them about Lorcan yet?” Adele asked her father.
He smiled. “Oh, let them find out for themselves. Besides, it always amuses Lorcan when we have guests in town.”
Adele smiled too. Lorcan Brody the hotel manager was blind, but you’d never know it from seeing him in action.
They followed their guests inside and went straight to the front counter. Lorcan’s head came up from what he was doing, and he sniffed the air. “Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Cooke, Mr. Cooke. And ye have friends from out of town?”
Leona and Betsy stopped in their tracks. “Betsy, is it just me or is that man …”
“I am. And whom might ye be? No, wait, let me guess … Mrs. Riley and Mrs. Quinn?”
“How did you know our names?” Betsy asked in surprise.
He laughed.