Through the Deep Waters by Kim Vogel Sawyer Read Free Book Online

he couldn’t resist pausing to admire the pair of ornate fountains sending up water in a crystal stream. Something inside his chest seemed to flutter. A man who could afford such elaborate trappings in theyard of his business would have the money to buy eggs. He only needed the manager to take a liking to him and his Leghorns’ creamy-white eggs.
    As he stepped onto the porch, lifting his good leg first and pulling the lame one behind him, a ruckus greeted his ears. He peeked through the big glass window into the dining room. Such activity! The chairs around all six tables held guests, and waitresses in long black dresses with starched white aprons bustled here and there, bringing out plates of food. He drew back.
    In his eagerness to show his eggs to the manager, he’d forgotten the morning train carried passengers hungry for breakfast. He peeked in the window again, shaking his head. Such a dolt! No one would talk to him with all those people wanting their food. Well, then, he would wait. Twenty minutes—that was the length of time the engineer needed to fill the train’s tank with water. Not much time at all.
    Tucking the basket, which he’d covered with a red-checked square of cloth to make it look more presentable, under his arm, he aimed himself for the gazebo corner of the rambling porch. White-painted wicker chairs invited guests to sit and relax. Guilt tried to nibble at him—he wasn’t a guest, so should he make use of those chairs?—but in the end the ache in his hip from the long walk overrode any worry. He needed to sit.
    He moved beneath the octagon roof, sighing as the shade from the lilac bushes growing alongside the railing touched him. His dark wool suit was too warm for this weather, but he owned no other. Underneath, he felt sticky from sweat, and he hoped the scented soap from last night’s bath hadn’t worn off already. He chose a chair near the hotel’s lapped siding and sank down, placing the basket of eggs in his lap.
    Only then did he notice he wasn’t alone. On a chair in the deepest shade from the lilacs, a girl slept with her feet tucked up underneath her. Her hands, the palms pressed together and resting against the chair’s rolled armrest, formed a pillow for her cheek. A few strands of her light-brown hair had worked loose from her simple braid and swayed gently against her jaw as the Kansas breeze teased its way through the thick bushes. How peaceful she looked. He couldn’t help smiling at the picture she created.
    But he’d startle her if she awakened and found him sitting there staring at her. He should find someplace else to wait. One hand gripping his basket, he used the other to push himself out of the chair. As his weight left the seat, the chair tipped up on two legs, then descended with a hollow thump against the floorboards.
    The girl leaped up so quickly Amos thought she might sail over the railing and into the lilacs. Round eyes as delicately blue as the larkspur growing in Ma’s garden back home stared at him in obvious fright. She clutched her fingers together at her waist, and her bodice lifted and fell with frantic puffs of breath. Her face had lost all color. If she fainted, he would catch her. But first he’d better put down his eggs.
    When he bent to place the basket on the chair, the girl gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. “Wh-what are you going to do?”
    His eggs safely set aside, he straightened and gave the girl a curious look. Because her hands were over her mouth, he couldn’t be certain he’d heard her correctly. “Did you ask what I’m going to do?”
    She nodded, still hiding the lower half of her face—an appealing face, Amos noted—heart shaped with high cheekbones and thick-lashed eyes.
    He chuckled and gestured to his little basket. “Well, I hope I am going to sell my eggs to the hotel’s manager.”
    Her wide-eyed gaze zipped to the basket and then back to him. Slowly she lowered her hands. “Oh.” Her shoulders wilted,