She sat in the easy chair, the baby in her arms, singing songs, soothing whenever Cora went fussy. She walked the baby, kissed her downy head, marveled at her pretty fingers and toes.
The door opened again.
Alice held the baby tighter as he came down, carrying a sack of supplies.
“Got what you need.” He turned, looked at the baby in her arms. “Let’s see her.”
Even if she could rip out his throat with her teeth, she couldn’t break the shackle. She needed to calm and charm him, so she smiled.
“Your daughter’s pretty and perfect, Sir. And she’s such a good baby. Hardly cries at all, and only if she’s hungry or messy. We could sure use some diapers, and some—”
“I said, let me see her.”
“She’s just now fallen asleep. I think she has your eyes, and your chin, too.” No, no, she didn’t, but a lie could calm and charm. “I should have thanked you for helping me bring her into the world, for helping me make her.”
When he grunted, crouched down, Alice relaxed just a little. She didn’t see that beating look in his eyes.
But he snatched the baby so fast, Cora woke with a shocked cry, and Alice sprang from the chair.
“She looks healthy enough.”
“She is. She’s perfect. Please, I can stop her crying. Let me just—”
He turned away, strode toward the stairs with Alice flying after him, the chain banging the concrete until it went taunt. “Where are you going? Where are you taking her?”
Half-mad, Alice leaped onto his back; he swatted her off like a fly, strode up the stairs. Stopped to look back as she dragged uselessly at the shackle.
“Got no use for daughters. Somebody else will, and pay a fair amount.”
“No, no, please. I’ll take care of her. She won’t be any trouble. Don’t take her. Don’t hurt her.”
“She’s my blood, so she won’t come to harm from me. But I’ve got no use for daughters. You’d best give me a son, Esther. You’d best do that.”
Alice dragged on the shackle until her ankle dripped blood, screamed until her throat burned like acid.
When she collapsed on the concrete floor, weeping in absolute despair, when she knew she’d never see her child again, that’s the moment she finally broke.
CHAPTER FOUR
— Present Day —
With the addition of the writers conference and the snow sculpture event now on the books, and the various holiday events and specials geared to pump up interest through Valentine’s Day, Bodine walked her way through résumés and recommendations from various managers.
She earmarked her own choices—the new college grad looking for a position in hospitality, the recent empty nester with previous experience in housekeeping, the young horseman looking for full-or part-time work, a couple applications for waitstaff, an experienced massage therapist who’d just relocated out of Boulder.
She culled through a few more, weighed priorities.
They needed another housekeeper, as Abe’s wife, Edda, would leave that slot empty when they headed to Arizona. And the applicant looked solid. They could certainly use another cowboy, and the waitstaff.
She considered the college grad, who seemed open to whatever position she could get. Solid résumé, good grades, local girl.
Armed with her folder, she set out to hunt up Jessica.
Bodine found her in the Dining Hall, heads together with the restaurant manager.
“Great. Two people I want to see. Jake, I’ve looked over those two waitstaff apps you sent over.”
“Carrie Ann gave them her stamp,” he said, referring to their eagle-eyed waitress of twelve years.
“So I see. You’ve got my okay if you want to bring them on. It’ll give you time to see if they hit the mark before the holiday bookings.”
“Good enough. We square here, Jessica?”
“Same page, same line. I think the Hobart event’s going to hit every mark. I appreciate it, Jake.”
“You bet. I’ll see about starting the new staff this week.”
When he walked off, Bodine turned to Jessica. “How would you feel about taking on an assistant/intern?”
“I’ve got Will.” Alarm flickered in the cool blue eyes. “You’re not taking Will away?”
“No, adding one. Potentially. She’s the niece of a friend of my mother’s—but,” Bodine continued, “she’s got good qualifications. Majored in hospitality, took a job at a hotel in Billings after she graduated, but her mother took a bad spill last month, and she came home to help out. She wants to stick closer to home. She’s young, but she’s got excellent references. She strikes me,” Bodine said. “Feels like you could train her the Bodine way.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Well, true enough, and I’m going to hire her on regardless. But if, after you look over her résumé, you’d rather not take her on in your area, I’ll put her in activities or sales to start off.”
“I’ll look over her file.” Jessica took it from Bodine. “Have her come in for an interview.”
“That works. Let me know when you can, soon as you can.”
“I will.” Setting it down, Jessica anchored it with her tablet. “Have you talked to Rory?”
“Not since breakfast. Why?”
“We’ve got two bookings for the Snow Sculpture Extravaganza.”
“Already? It just went on the website this morning.”
“That’s right.” With a smug smile, Jessica toasted with her water bottle.
Bodine tapped her folder on her palm. “Looks like I’d better get busy hiring more fill-in winter staff. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you wear heels every day when you spend as much time running around here as sitting down? Probably more time,” she amended. “They have to hurt by the end of the day.”
Jessica’s eyebrows rose; her gaze dropped down to Bodine’s feet. “Why do you wear gorgeous boots every day? We wear what we are, Bodine.”
Bodine glanced down at her smoke-gray Dingos with the buckles running up the sides. They were sort of gorgeous. “I am my boots.”
“And your Levi’s, and most days—like this—your snappy vest. I do admire your collection of snappy vests.”
Amused, Bodine tugged at the hem of the thinly striped blue and green vest. It could be considered snappy, she supposed.
“They’re my compromise between a suit and just jeans.”
“Works on you.”
“Well.” Bodine tossed her hair—in a long braid today—over her shoulder. “I’m going to take my gorgeous boots and snappy vest over to talk to Abe. I’ve got an application here for him, too, and another for Zen Town.” She started off, turned back. “I’d be crying in those shoes of yours inside two hours.”
“You’re tougher than that.”
“On the inside,” Bodine qualified, “I’d be crying.”
She grabbed her coat and hat from her office. According to her schedule, Abe should be finishing up a pair of lessons at the Equestrian Center.
She hopped in her truck for the ten-minute drive winding through the resort, out to the road toward the center.