Chapter Ten
Watching as she stood, he found that he had severely overestimated the amount of luggage she would have.
She had one small valise in her hands, and nothing more than what she had worn for the travel.
Then again, she had written multiple times about growing up in an orphanage and not being paid a great deal of money now that she was working at said orphanage.
“Well, I’m glad to see you finally made it.
I was worried you might have underestimated the travel time,” he said as he held his hand out to her.
“Shall we head into town? I’ve already reserved a room at the inn for you.
Paid for the first month. I wasn’t entirely sure what you’d want to do upon arriving other than rest and refresh. ”
“Rest and a soak in a bath sound like a great idea, to start, Mr. Montgomery,” she said as she shook his hand. “I’ve been traveling nonstop for two weeks. I honestly didn’t expect to take an extra week to get here. I’m sorry if you’ve been waiting for me each day since my original estimation.”
She looked as if she expected some sort of admonishment for being wrong. He hoped that wasn’t an expectation honed by the orphanage.
“For someone who has not traveled before, I had a feeling you might underestimate the travel. Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he said with a smile.
With that, he started leading Miss Peterson toward the buggy he had brought to take her into town.
She followed without a word. He helped her into the buggy, and then they were off toward the inn.
He found it strange that she was so quiet.
From the letters, he imagined that she would have been talkative.
He wondered if it was because the journey had taken a toll on her.
Perhaps tomorrow she would be as talkative as he thought she would have been today.
“I appreciate that you’ve already paid for a month at the inn,” she said along the way. “That was thoughtful of you. So from that, I’m guessing that you’re not interested in marriage right away?”
“No, Miss Peterson,” he said. “I’d like to get to know you more personally.
I got the feeling that some of your letters were venting about your situation in Washington, D.C.
Now that this is no longer the case, I’d like to get to know you for who you are.
For what you like, what you don’t like… that kind of thing. ”
“That’s fair. Well, we can start with this: I prefer to be called Susannah over Miss Peterson. If you don’t mind doing that…”
“I can do that. Feel free to call me Wesley, or Wes, if you like,” he responded. “As long as we’re not in court, anyway. There, it’s Your Honor.”
She didn’t respond, but he assumed she had nodded in response.
When the inn came into view, he pointed it out to her.
It wasn’t the fanciest building ever—in fact, he was sure she had seen more impressive architecture in Washington, D.C.
However, it was where she’d be calling home for the next month. At the least.
He hoped she liked the look of it.
“Well, here we are,” he said as he stopped the buggy. “Would you like me to walk in with you? I know you don’t need help getting your valise inside unless you’d like it?”
“I’d like the company, but I can carry my valise to my room,” she said. “Thank you for the offer, though.”
She was just as independent as he had thought based on the letters, which was good to know.
He suspected travel fatigue was preventing her from being as bubbly and bright as she had been in her letters.
That was something that he had appreciated: for as much as she might have stated what sounded like complaints, she was aware that there was plenty to be thankful for in her life, too.
They walked into the inn, and Mrs. Jackson was working the desk, just as he had expected.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Montgomery. I’m assuming this is the lovely friend for whom you reserved the room?” she asked.
“Indeed. Pauline, meet Susannah Peterson. Susannah, this is Pauline Jackson. She and her husband own the inn,” Wesley said. “I hope you’ll take good care of her, Pauline.”
“I shall, Mr. Montgomery,” Mrs. Jackson assured. “Well, I’ve got your room reserved and ready for you, Miss Peterson. Here’s your room key. Just go down that hall to your left, and it’ll be the third door on your left walking in from the lobby.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” Susannah said. “This is a lovely inn you’ve got. You and your husband must be so proud of it.”
“We are,” Mrs. Jackson said, smiling brightly. “If you need anything else, let me know. If I’m not here, then you can leave a note for me on the desk.”
Susannah nodded. With that, he walked her to her assigned room. The key fit the room’s lock, and she promptly dropped her valise to the side of the door.
“I hope you won’t mind if I take the day to rest and just get my bearings, Wes,” she said. “I’ve been on the road for too long.”
“I wasn’t expecting much of anything today,” he said. “I can stop by after work to see you, but if you’d rather wait until tomorrow, I can wait too.”
“Tomorrow sounds much better.”
“Then I’ll meet you for dinner. Say, five-thirty here at the inn?”
“That sounds wonderful, Wes,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”