They might not have a varied menu, but the food would be good and wholesome. She peered under the lid of the large pot on the stove. The girl obviously didn’t know there was little but meat and liquid in the pan.
The fragrant aroma of chicken broth tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled. After replacing the lid, she stepped back and thought what other ingredients might go with the shredded chicken. “We need chopped carrots and celery, maybe some potatoes. And we need it all within half an hour.” She tapped her finger against her lip. Think, Tabitha. You’ve eaten plenty of chicken stew in your day.
She turned to the girl who suggested she slice bread. “What is your name?”
“Dorothy, ma’am. Don’t you worry none about the meal. I’m a good cook. Got me eight brothers back home and they are all as hefty as me.” The large girl smiled, her eyes all but disappearing in her round cheeks.
“I’m Tabby, and you are a blessing. I’m going to go tell Miss O’Connor that today’s lunch is chicken stew and bread and ask her to advise our customers when they arrive.” Then she needed to slice the bread, make sure there were clean dishes... With her mind ticking off the hundred things she needed to do in a very short amount of time, Tabby pushed into the dining room and made a beeline for the head waitress. “Miss O’Connor.”
The head waitress turned, a frown marring her brow. “Please don’t tell me there are more complications to this already-tiring day.”
“No, ma’am.” Tabby grinned. “Everything is running smoothly. I’ve come to tell you that lunch will only be chicken stew and bread, but at least the customers will be fed.”
“I’m sure Mr. Hastings won’t mind if we offer the one choice as a special of some kind. Maybe charge a lesser price.” She nodded. “It’s a wonderful idea, Miss McClelland. You’re a valuable asset to the Harvey restaurants.”
Tears pricked Tabby’s eyes. No one had ever called her valuable before. In the early years of her childhood, her mother told her she was precious, but endearments and encouraging words were few and far between in her family.
Now she excelled at something, a job that would provide a good living and a full life. If only Adam’s face didn’t pop into her mind every time she contemplated a career with the Harvey restaurants.
* * *
Adam lay in his bunk in the Pullman car, hands folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. Worries about his mother and confusion over Tabby had his brain spinning like a drunken twister. Why couldn’t life be smooth, going along a track as dependable as the Santa Fe Railroad? He didn’t mind the occasional season of mild upheaval, but he definitely preferred a calm life.
Six months ago he sat down with his family and made their plans to move to San Francisco. He couldn’t go ahead with the dream if his mother wasn’t a part of it, not after her excitement over opening a Foster family restaurant and bakery. Ma did love making her pastries and passed on her love of cooking to her only son. Adam grinned. Daphne could cook, but nowhere near as good as he or their mother.
He rolled over to his side. He should be home by tomorrow afternoon. His heart leaped, despite the reason for returning. His family was his life. The one important factor, other than God, that Adam could always count on. If only he could add Tabby to that list.
How was the restaurant doing without him? He hated running out in the middle of the day, but family came first. Always. They would manage without him at the restaurant. He shouldn’t worry.
He sighed and flopped onto his back. Sleep would arrive as slow as Christmas to a child. Would it help if he dwelled on the memory of his kiss with Tabby? Maybe. He smiled. And maybe thinking of that moment would make sleep even harder to come by.
Chapter 13
T abby untied her apron and tossed it into a basket of dirty laundry beside the pantry door. What a long, frantic day. She
The fragrant aroma of chicken broth tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled. After replacing the lid, she stepped back and thought what other ingredients might go with the shredded chicken. “We need chopped carrots and celery, maybe some potatoes. And we need it all within half an hour.” She tapped her finger against her lip. Think, Tabitha. You’ve eaten plenty of chicken stew in your day.
She turned to the girl who suggested she slice bread. “What is your name?”
“Dorothy, ma’am. Don’t you worry none about the meal. I’m a good cook. Got me eight brothers back home and they are all as hefty as me.” The large girl smiled, her eyes all but disappearing in her round cheeks.
“I’m Tabby, and you are a blessing. I’m going to go tell Miss O’Connor that today’s lunch is chicken stew and bread and ask her to advise our customers when they arrive.” Then she needed to slice the bread, make sure there were clean dishes... With her mind ticking off the hundred things she needed to do in a very short amount of time, Tabby pushed into the dining room and made a beeline for the head waitress. “Miss O’Connor.”
The head waitress turned, a frown marring her brow. “Please don’t tell me there are more complications to this already-tiring day.”
“No, ma’am.” Tabby grinned. “Everything is running smoothly. I’ve come to tell you that lunch will only be chicken stew and bread, but at least the customers will be fed.”
“I’m sure Mr. Hastings won’t mind if we offer the one choice as a special of some kind. Maybe charge a lesser price.” She nodded. “It’s a wonderful idea, Miss McClelland. You’re a valuable asset to the Harvey restaurants.”
Tears pricked Tabby’s eyes. No one had ever called her valuable before. In the early years of her childhood, her mother told her she was precious, but endearments and encouraging words were few and far between in her family.
Now she excelled at something, a job that would provide a good living and a full life. If only Adam’s face didn’t pop into her mind every time she contemplated a career with the Harvey restaurants.
* * *
Adam lay in his bunk in the Pullman car, hands folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. Worries about his mother and confusion over Tabby had his brain spinning like a drunken twister. Why couldn’t life be smooth, going along a track as dependable as the Santa Fe Railroad? He didn’t mind the occasional season of mild upheaval, but he definitely preferred a calm life.
Six months ago he sat down with his family and made their plans to move to San Francisco. He couldn’t go ahead with the dream if his mother wasn’t a part of it, not after her excitement over opening a Foster family restaurant and bakery. Ma did love making her pastries and passed on her love of cooking to her only son. Adam grinned. Daphne could cook, but nowhere near as good as he or their mother.
He rolled over to his side. He should be home by tomorrow afternoon. His heart leaped, despite the reason for returning. His family was his life. The one important factor, other than God, that Adam could always count on. If only he could add Tabby to that list.
How was the restaurant doing without him? He hated running out in the middle of the day, but family came first. Always. They would manage without him at the restaurant. He shouldn’t worry.
He sighed and flopped onto his back. Sleep would arrive as slow as Christmas to a child. Would it help if he dwelled on the memory of his kiss with Tabby? Maybe. He smiled. And maybe thinking of that moment would make sleep even harder to come by.
Chapter 13
T abby untied her apron and tossed it into a basket of dirty laundry beside the pantry door. What a long, frantic day. She
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