moment to abruptly cut
between them and take her plate to the dry sink. She set the dishes down with a
disturbing clatter and asked, rather loudly Rebecca thought, “How did you wind
up in Defiance, Mr. Donoghue? If I’m not being too nosy.”
“I met Mac−Mr. McIntyre in San Francisco.” Rebecca
noted a pause in his story before he continued. “We struck up a conversation in
a pub. He is a man with big dreams and he wanted an architect who could
envision something o’ the American spirit in his town. I am an architect by
trade and he thought I was the man for the job. I like Defiance very much and
I’ll like it even more when it settles down a bit.”
“No joshin’!” Hannah joined Naomi and slid her plate into the
sink as well. “ Buffalo Gals is stuck in my head. Is it that noisy every
night? I feel like I didn’t get any sleep and my back is killing me.”
Grimacing, she stretched her arms over her head and arched her back in a long
cat stretch. Rebecca watched in horror as the gesture emphasized her quickly
rounding stomach. She was positive Ian noticed, but he didn’t let on. He sipped
his coffee, quickly averting his eyes. Rebecca appreciated his discreetness.
“Well, Mac wants the town to become more respectable and he
knows the price will be high. The saloons can’t stay open all night and the
jail needs to be used for something more than drunks and vagrants. There must
be real law, no’ just his law. The advantage there to ye ladies is that he
truly wants the hotel to succeed.”
A banging, scraping noise at the front alerted them that
their furniture had arrived. Ian excused himself and returned a moment later
with two chairs, his blueprints and his hat shoved under his arms, followed by
Emilio who was also toting two chairs, and two men the girls had not seen
before carrying a green, felt-topped gaming table.
The sisters drew in closer to Ian at the new table, hunching
over the plans. He spent the next half hour discussing the fifteen possible
rooms and the kitchen layout. Initially, the sisters had thought they wouldn’t
make any changes to the floor plan, but it was obvious they needed living
accommodations, and they agreed it would be good to allow each sister to have
her own room. A larger room was assigned to Hannah, without explanation, and
Ian didn’t ask for one. He sketched quickly on the prints as they talked.
They chatted a while longer about the dining room, for which
he had some helpful suggestions about table placement, but everyone was
satisfied with the design. The kitchen needed expansion, larger counters, two
cook stoves, a window through which to pass food to the dining room, more
storage, and a pump inside the building for easy access to water.
Comfortable with their goals, Ian deftly rolled the plans in
to a tight wand. “We’re to get started on this right away. I dare say, within
the next week or so, ye’ll think ye’re living in a beehive.”
Eager for the excitement of the renovation to begin, Rebecca
escorted Ian to the door. He chatted comfortably about creating a building plan
and the time he would need to make their changes to the blueprints. It struck
Rebecca that every time their eyes met, her heart sped up a little and she
chided herself for being a foolish old woman.
She opened the door for Ian and looked up at him as bright
morning sunshine streamed into the room. “How long do you think it will be
before we can open?”
Ian studied her for an instant then he blinked. “Yes, uh,
timing.” He rubbed his neck as if he was playing mental catch-up. “I should
think ye could be serving meals by September sometime. That depends, of course,
on when orders are placed and when items arrive.”
Rebecca raised her brows. “That soon. Less than two months.”
Ian opened his mouth, held a questioning look in his eyes
then changed course. Stepping through the door, he slipped his balmoral bonnet
back on his head and turned again to Rebecca.
between them and take her plate to the dry sink. She set the dishes down with a
disturbing clatter and asked, rather loudly Rebecca thought, “How did you wind
up in Defiance, Mr. Donoghue? If I’m not being too nosy.”
“I met Mac−Mr. McIntyre in San Francisco.” Rebecca
noted a pause in his story before he continued. “We struck up a conversation in
a pub. He is a man with big dreams and he wanted an architect who could
envision something o’ the American spirit in his town. I am an architect by
trade and he thought I was the man for the job. I like Defiance very much and
I’ll like it even more when it settles down a bit.”
“No joshin’!” Hannah joined Naomi and slid her plate into the
sink as well. “ Buffalo Gals is stuck in my head. Is it that noisy every
night? I feel like I didn’t get any sleep and my back is killing me.”
Grimacing, she stretched her arms over her head and arched her back in a long
cat stretch. Rebecca watched in horror as the gesture emphasized her quickly
rounding stomach. She was positive Ian noticed, but he didn’t let on. He sipped
his coffee, quickly averting his eyes. Rebecca appreciated his discreetness.
“Well, Mac wants the town to become more respectable and he
knows the price will be high. The saloons can’t stay open all night and the
jail needs to be used for something more than drunks and vagrants. There must
be real law, no’ just his law. The advantage there to ye ladies is that he
truly wants the hotel to succeed.”
A banging, scraping noise at the front alerted them that
their furniture had arrived. Ian excused himself and returned a moment later
with two chairs, his blueprints and his hat shoved under his arms, followed by
Emilio who was also toting two chairs, and two men the girls had not seen
before carrying a green, felt-topped gaming table.
The sisters drew in closer to Ian at the new table, hunching
over the plans. He spent the next half hour discussing the fifteen possible
rooms and the kitchen layout. Initially, the sisters had thought they wouldn’t
make any changes to the floor plan, but it was obvious they needed living
accommodations, and they agreed it would be good to allow each sister to have
her own room. A larger room was assigned to Hannah, without explanation, and
Ian didn’t ask for one. He sketched quickly on the prints as they talked.
They chatted a while longer about the dining room, for which
he had some helpful suggestions about table placement, but everyone was
satisfied with the design. The kitchen needed expansion, larger counters, two
cook stoves, a window through which to pass food to the dining room, more
storage, and a pump inside the building for easy access to water.
Comfortable with their goals, Ian deftly rolled the plans in
to a tight wand. “We’re to get started on this right away. I dare say, within
the next week or so, ye’ll think ye’re living in a beehive.”
Eager for the excitement of the renovation to begin, Rebecca
escorted Ian to the door. He chatted comfortably about creating a building plan
and the time he would need to make their changes to the blueprints. It struck
Rebecca that every time their eyes met, her heart sped up a little and she
chided herself for being a foolish old woman.
She opened the door for Ian and looked up at him as bright
morning sunshine streamed into the room. “How long do you think it will be
before we can open?”
Ian studied her for an instant then he blinked. “Yes, uh,
timing.” He rubbed his neck as if he was playing mental catch-up. “I should
think ye could be serving meals by September sometime. That depends, of course,
on when orders are placed and when items arrive.”
Rebecca raised her brows. “That soon. Less than two months.”
Ian opened his mouth, held a questioning look in his eyes
then changed course. Stepping through the door, he slipped his balmoral bonnet
back on his head and turned again to Rebecca.
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