Grand Encounters (A Harvey House Brides Novella)

By Jen Turano

Finding herself the object of society's pity after her fiancé falls for another woman, Myrtle seeks out adventure working as a Harvey Girl, content to hold fast to her vow of remaining a confirmed spinster--until she meets Jack, a self-made man and a frequent guest at the hotel who makes that vow difficult to uphold.

Grand Encounters is a novella from humorous historical romance author, Jen Turano, about a down-on-her-luck heiress who finds unexpected love working at a Harvey House restaurant near the Grand Canyon in 1908.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781493417124

Jen Turano

Jen Turano is the author of over eight books and two novellas. A graduate of the University of Akron, she has a degree in clothing and textiles, is a member of ACFW, and lives in Denver, Colorado. For more information, visit her at www.jenturano.com.

Book preview

Books by Jen Turano

Gentleman of Her Dreams: A LADIES OF DISTINCTION Novella from With All My Heart Romance Collection

A Change of Fortune

A Most Peculiar Circumstance

A Talent for Trouble

A Match of Wits

After a Fashion

In Good Company

Playing the Part

APART FROM THE CROWD

At Your Request: An APART FROM THE CROWD Novella from All For Love Romance Collection

Behind the Scenes

Out of the Ordinary

Caught by Surprise

AMERICAN HEIRESSES

Flights of Fancy

Diamond in the Rough

Storing Up Trouble

Grand Encounters: A HARVEY HOUSE BRIDES COLLECTION Novella from Serving Up Love

© 2019 by Jennifer L. Turano

Published by Bethany House Publishers

11400 Hampshire Avenue South

Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

www.bethanyhouse.com

Bethany House Publishers is a division of

Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

Ebook edition created 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for Serving Up Love is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4934-1712-4

Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota/Jon Godfredson

Author is represented by the Natasha Kern Agency.

Contents

Cover

Books by Jen Turano

Title Page

Copyright Page

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Sneak Peek of Flights of Fancy by Jen Turano

About the Author

Back Ads

Chapter One

EL TOVAR HOTEL, GRAND CANYON, ARIZONA

1908

I know you mentioned you’ve sworn off gentlemen forever, but Mr. Tall, Dark, and—need I say—Delicious is here again, and, unsurprisingly, he’s sitting in your section.

Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder, Miss Myrtle Schermerhorn continued pouring coffee from the large urn into the cup she was holding, ignoring that her hand had begun shaking ever so slightly.

She didn’t need to ask who Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious was, knowing Miss Ruthanne Hill, her fellow Harvey Girl and friend, had to be speaking about Mr. Jack Daggett.

Mr. Daggett was a frequent guest at El Tovar, and during the five months she’d been working at the hotel, she’d encountered him often, taken completely aback when he began making a habit of sitting in her section whenever he showed up to dine.

That he was tall, dark, and incredibly delicious was not in question.

Standing over six feet tall and possessed of a build that suggested he spent plenty of time engaged in physical labor, he was a man who drew attention like honey drew bees. There was a ruggedness to his features that complemented his large form, and his eyes were a piercing shade of green, filled with an intelligence Myrtle hadn’t neglected to notice. His hair was blackest black, occasionally worn longer than was currently fashionable, although that might have simply been because he seemed to travel often around the West, where one couldn’t always expect to find the services of a barber.

Mr. Daggett was always formally dressed, wearing a jacket, waistcoat, and a tie no matter how stifling the heat of the day, which Myrtle found somewhat curious. His size suggested he was a man of labor, yet his attire suggested he was something else.

Laborer or not, Mr. Daggett wasn’t a talkative man and had barely spoken to her over the past few months except to give her his order and then thank her after he was finished with his meal. With that said, though, there was something about the manner in which he watched her as she served him, something that left her feeling all sorts of fluttery inside, and something that had her reconsidering her vow of swearing off gentlemen forever.

She was not a lady who’d ever drawn such notice from a gentleman before, and even though it left her flustered at times, she found it rather delightful. She also found Mr. Daggett’s notice was doing wonders for healing the embarrassment of her broken engagement the year prior, a situation that was responsible for her abandoning New York high society and heading West.

He’s brought someone with him today, someone just as delicious. I think they might be related, Ruthanne said.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Myrtle set aside the cup that was now filled beyond the brim and dripping everywhere, taking a second to mop up the spill before she lifted her head, finding her friend peering across the dining room.

Ruthanne was all of eighteen years old, five years younger than Myrtle. She was a lovely young lady with blond hair, a creamy complexion, and blue eyes that always held a touch of mischief. Ruthanne had been vocal from their very first meeting about why she’d joined the Harvey Girls: she wanted a reason to leave her family farm in Ohio, and she was looking for a husband—like many of the Harvey Girls were doing, Myrtle excluded.

Fighting a smile, Myrtle leaned closer to her friend. You’re more than welcome to take my table so you can meet this new man Mr. Daggett has with him.

Ruthanne’s eyes widened as she returned her attention to Myrtle. "Goodness, no. Mr. Daggett scares me half to death, what with him being such an intimidating sort. Besides, he doesn’t look at me like he looks at you. We Harvey Girls are expected to give our guests a pleasant experience, and his experience today would be more along the lines of disappointing if you don’t take his order. Her lips curved. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the man now, would you?"

I try not to disappoint any of the guests I serve at El Tovar.

Ruthanne picked up the cup of coffee she’d poured and leveled a knowing look at Myrtle. But you don’t like any of those other guests the way you like Mr. Daggett, no matter how much you may want to deny it. Not waiting for Myrtle to respond to a statement that was, concerningly, all too true, Ruthanne hurried away.

Myrtle watched as Ruthanne moved to a section situated at the back of the dining room that was a favorite section of the guests. Large windows with spotless glass flanked an enormous stone fireplace and allowed the guests unfettered views of the Grand Canyon. Those views, even with her distracted by pesky thoughts of Mr. Jack Daggett, never failed to take Myrtle’s breath away.

There was something mesmerizing about the Grand Canyon. It was a place Myrtle had never imagined visiting, the starkness and beauty of the vast land at distinct odds from the world she’d grown up in—New York City. In New York, one traveled to Central Park to escape the noise and bustle of everyday life. But in Arizona, one had only to step outside to discover a sense of peace. The varied colors of the canyon lent the area a tranquil air, and the lack of moisture in the air was so different from the humidity that blanketed New York—which she didn’t miss in the least.

Are you done with the coffee urn, Myrtle?

Realizing that she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to be serving one of her guests a fresh cup of coffee, and that she’d been blocking other Harvey Girls from using the coffee urn in the process, Myrtle pushed her thoughts aside. Turning, she discovered Miss Opal Chapman, an amusing young woman who was always quick to share a laugh or a helping hand, standing behind her, an empty coffee cup in her hand.

Forgive me, Opal. I fear I was woolgathering.

Opal’s green eyes twinkled. I imagine you were, what with Mr. Daggett showing up for the third time this week and sitting in your section again.

You’ve noticed how often Mr. Daggett has dined here this week?

’Course I have, as have all the other girls. Opal sent Myrtle a wink. We think he’s sweet on you. We’ve also taken to marking down on the calendar dates we think he’ll finally get up the nerve to ask you to dinner.

You think he’s sweet on me?

Opal bobbed her head, sending the large white bow attached to her dark hair bobbing as well. I do. But don’t just stand here, chatting with me. Mr. Daggett won’t be able to get around to asking you to dinner if you don’t go over and talk to him. She moved closer to Myrtle and lowered her voice. I’d appreciate it if you could speed up his asking a bit. I’ve chosen today as the day he’ll rustle up his nerve, and I wouldn’t mind winning the prize we settled on—leaving work an hour early one day, that hour covered by other Harvey Girls.

Having no idea what to say to that, Myrtle sent Opal a weak smile before she picked up the coffee she’d poured and headed across the dining room. Taking a second once she’d delivered the coffee to ascertain that everyone at table five was happy with their meal, she drew in a breath to steady the nerves that had begun to make themselves known. Releasing that breath when she reached Mr. Daggett’s table, she summoned up the bright smile Harvey Girls were expected to wear at all times when serving their many guests.

Good afternoon, Mr. Daggett, she began pleasantly. His head jerked up and his lips twisted into what might have been an attempt at a smile, although she wasn’t certain about that, because she’d never seen him smile before. In all honesty, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually grimacing at her. If he was grimacing, that would certainly imply he wasn’t sweet on her at all, which would then reaffirm her decision that men were disconcerting creatures and really not worth the trouble.

Ah, you must be Miss Schermerhorn, the man sitting beside Mr. Daggett said, drawing her attention. Jack’s told me all about you. I’m his younger brother, Walter. Pleased to meet you at last.

Pulling her gaze from Jack, who was now scowling at his brother, Myrtle tilted her head. Your brother’s told you all about me, Mr. Daggett?

Walter nodded. Indeed, but please call me Walter. With you being such good friends with Jack and all, it seems peculiar to be so formal with you.

Knowing she couldn’t very well contradict Walter and tell him his brother rarely spoke to her because, well, that would be rude, Myrtle smoothed a hand down the front of her stark-white apron as a flash of heat traveled up her neck to settle on her cheeks.

You’re making her uncomfortable, Jack muttered before he turned his full attention to Myrtle. His green gaze sharpened on her, which sent additional heat crawling up her neck.

When he didn’t say anything else and simply continued to stare