help? Briefly she let her mind swerve toward Jake. Would he help her if she asked, or side with the town fathers? Probably the latter. That left her with one alternative. She had three weeks. In that time, she had to get the hotel ready for occupancy and earn enough to pay the water bill.
She headed back to the lobby and stood looking around. With a little bit of wallpaper, it would be presentable. Why couldn’t she take in guests with the same arrangement she had with the Sperlings? Reduced rates because the dining room wasn’t available. If she had the dining room door closed off, surely Mr. Bertch couldn’t condemn it as unsafe? It would be inconvenient for her to have to go outside to get to the kitchen, but if it meant having paying guests, she would do it.
She marched up the stairs to study the eight unoccupied rooms, all with considerable smoke damage. She knew much of it could be scrubbed away with soap and water—and lots of elbow grease. Well, she’d better get at it.
She persuaded Mort to take down the drapes from the first three rooms and hang them outside to air. She’d try sponging them later in the day. She carried the ladder upstairs then, armed with hot water, soap, and lots of rags, headed for the first room.
“Miss Hannah. Miss Hannah.” The siren sound of two little boys rang out.
She dropped her cloth in the water and went down to serve the promised tea and cookies.
❧
The next day was more of the same. Mrs. Sperling took the boys out for breakfast then returned for tea and cookies. Other than that, Hannah spent every spare moment scrubbing and cleaning. She caught glimpses of Jake as he hurried in and out. According to Mrs. Sperling, he hadn’t been able to persuade any of the buyers to come and spent his day trying to find feed for the cows.
She had three rooms scrubbed and their bedding stripped down to the mattresses. She didn’t have to bury her face in the ticking to realize they’d need a good airing. She wondered if Mort would do it, but he’d been at the desk until late last night waiting for Jake to return. She’d promised him she wouldn’t disturb him. That left her to do the task on her own. She tugged a mattress off the bed. It was unwieldy but not heavy. Surely she could get it down the stairs.
She pushed, pulled, and dragged it to the hallway, got it to the top of the stairs, and then paused to catch her breath and consider her next step. She could drag the mattress, but if it got away on her she’d be pushed down the stairs. Nope. Better to push it down than have it push her. She got behind and shoved. It clung to the carpeting. She pushed harder and managed to get it to the top step. Somehow she’d figured it would dip down the stairs. Instead it merely stuck out. She pushed some more. It still stuck out. She kept pushing but couldn’t believe how the mattress continued to defiantly stick out over the steps.
Hannah gave one more hearty shove, and the mattress flipped flat, dropping its full length to the steps. She bent to grab the sides, hoping to control its descent, but it took off. She fell to the padding as the mattress gained speed. She clung to the edges. Bump, bump, bump. She felt every step in her chest, then her stomach, knees, and toes. As she realized the trip down the steps was going to be slow but bumpy, her initial alarm gave way to amusement.
The mattress reached the polished wooden floor and picked up speed. Hannah giggled. This was fun. She laughed harder. If anyone saw her now, they’d think she’d gone crazy. Maybe she had, but she hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. And it felt good.
At that moment the door opened and Jake strode in. She barely had time to holler, “Look out,” before the mattress struck his ankles and ground to a halt.
He teetered a minute like a tree cut down at its roots, waved his arms madly, and then toppled, landing beside her.
Laughing so hard tears filled her eyes, Hannah rolled away.
“What are you