A Promised Heart by Kate Marie Clark

Author:Kate Marie Clark [Clark, Kate Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“Pardon me,” Hattie said, rushing forward to wipe up the water.

The customer smiled, not seeming to mind. “Never you mind,” the woman said, wafting a hand. A diamond on her left hand sparkled, and her voice held a southern twang. “I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear I could get a warm plate before my next train.”

That was the third glass of water Hattie had overfilled that evening. Thoughts of Mr. Ellison filled her mind, distracting her to no end. Four days of working the restaurant and sitting at his bedside and fighting guilt had caught up with her. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she struggled to find the strength.

Then there was the matter of the brooch. Mr. Brody told Hattie not to worry. Mr. Ellison’s recovery was his greatest concern.

But Hattie did worry. She did not want Mr. Brody to think her dishonest or neglectful. The wagon accident was no excuse for her losing the expensive piece. She had walked the path too many times to count, hoping to find the small package to no avail.

“Tell me about the fried chicken?” the woman asked, tending to her small child.

Hattie struggled to return her attention to the customer in front of her. “Delicious. Cook makes the finest meals in all of Topeka,” she said. Would Mr. Ellison be willing to forgive her?

The woman tapped her fingers across the table. “Then I’ll take a plate of that, and a bowl of soup for the child.”

“Will you be wanting any pie, or perhaps cornbread, with your dinner?” Hattie balanced the pitcher of water in her arms, still contemplating whether or not she should speak to Mr. Ellison. He was faring much better today. “I recommend apple.”

“I’ll have a scone.”

The dining hall was more crowded than usual, and Hattie hurried to her next two tables before putting the orders in with the cook. The last two days had been much the same as this one—fast-paced. From the moment she awoke, Hattie worked. She scrubbed the floors, laundered sheets and napkins and towels, attended to customers at the restaurant, and finished the day at Mr. Ellison’s bedside.

Hattie only wished her mind had been as preoccupied.

Each time she visited Mr. Ellison, she promised herself she would tell him the truth. But then he would smile at her, speak with her, laugh with her, and Hattie would forget everything else. He had a way with words. His stories captivated her, and he never ceased to surprise her.

And his voice, his deep and gentle voice. Hattie’s lips parted into a smile. Mr. Ellison was, more than any other quality, kind. The button on her cuff served as a constant reminder, but his voice served as a second. The warmth of his words, and his expression each time he addressed her or comforted her.

What would he think when, or if, he found out the truth? Would he understand her reasons, or would he feel betrayed?

Her shift at the restaurant ended, and Hattie trudged to the front desk.

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