Читать онлайн книгу "A Tailor-Made Husband"

A Tailor-Made Husband
Winnie Griggs


From Bachelor Sheriff to Family ManTired of pining for handsome sheriff Ward Gleason, seamstress Hazel Andrews plans to head east for a fresh start—until Ward finds an abandoned child. Hazel can’t turn down his request that she watch the little girl while he investigates a spate of crimes. But spending time with Ward is sending local gossips—and Hazel’s heart—into turmoil.Nothing in Ward’s world is the same since he took charge of orphaned Meg…and that includes his growing feelings for Hazel. A fake engagement will allow them to care for the child together until Hazel moves away and finds someone more worthy. But with little Meg convinced she’s already found her forever family, can Ward and Hazel dare to make her dreams come true, along with their own?







From Bachelor Sheriff to Family Man

Tired of pining for handsome sheriff Ward Gleason, seamstress Hazel Andrews plans to head East for a fresh start—until Ward finds an abandoned child. Hazel can’t turn down his request that she watch the little girl while he investigates a spate of crimes. But spending time with Ward is sending local gossips—and Hazel’s heart—into turmoil.

Nothing in Ward’s world is the same since he took charge of orphaned Meg...and that includes his growing feelings for Hazel. A fake engagement will allow them to care for the child together until Hazel moves away and finds someone more worthy. But with little Meg convinced she’s already found her forever family, can Ward and Hazel dare to make her dreams come true, along with their own?


“I’m leaving Turnabout and moving to New York,” Hazel said.

Ward felt everything suddenly go still. “You mean you’re taking your annual trip early?” Hazel had family there that she visited regularly.

“No. I mean I’m moving to New York permanently.”

Turnabout without Hazel’s vibrant presence? It was unthinkable. Trying to absorb the impact of what she was saying, he raised a brow. “This seems a bit sudden.”

“Not really. Aunt Ellen has asked me several times to work in her fashion-design business. I’ve finally decided to accept her offer.”

“I see.” Except he didn’t. Why would she do such a thing? “Exactly how soon do you plan to make this move?”

“I talked it over with Verity before she and her family headed out on their vacation and I promised her I wouldn’t leave until she returns.” Hazel shrugged. “They’re due back in about three weeks.”

So soon! The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach deepened. “And you’ve made up your mind?”

She nodded. “But for the next three weeks,” she said, “I’ll do whatever I can to help with Meg.”

He forced a smile. It was the second time today she’d touched him that way. He found he liked it. He had to remind himself to keep things on a just-friends basis. But unfortunately it didn’t seem like he’d have to worry with that for much longer...


Dear Reader (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef),

I hope you’ve enjoyed Hazel and Ward’s story. This one was a long time in the making. Both of these characters have appeared in many of the previous Texas Grooms books, but it wasn’t until Hazel popped up in Second Chance Hero as Verity’s best friend that she really came to life for me. And it was only then that I realized the sheriff was the object of her long-standing affection.

Hazel and Ward’s story simmered in my mind as I wrote two additional books in the series, until I was finally ready to tell their story. And what a story it turned out to be. Ward came to life for me as a hero in so many unexpected ways—I fell in love with him right along with Hazel. And I hope you will too.

For more information on this and other books set in Turnabout, please visit my website at www.winniegriggs.com (http://www.winniegriggs.com) or follow me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/WinnieGriggs.Author (https://www.facebook.com/WinnieGriggs.Author).

And as always, I love to hear from readers. Feel free to contact me at winnie@winniegriggs.com (mailto:winnie@winniegriggs.com) with your thoughts on this or any other of my books.

Wishing you a life abounding with love and grace,

Winnie Griggs


WINNIE GRIGGS is the multipublished, award-winning author of historical (and occasionally contemporary) romances that focus on small towns, big hearts and amazing grace. She is also a list maker and a lover of dragonflies, and holds an advanced degree in the art of procrastination. Winnie loves to hear from readers—you can connect with her on Facebook at Facebook.com/winniegriggs.author (https://Facebook.com/winniegriggs.author) or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.


A Tailor-Made Husband

Winnie Griggs






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


I waited patiently for the Lord;

and He inclined unto me, and heard my cry.

—Psalms 40:1


Dedicated to my fabulous agent, Michelle Grajkowski, who is not only a great advocate for my work but also a great friend. And also to my wonderful brainstorming partners, Amy, Christopher, Joanne and Renee, who helped me figure out what direction to take my story when I lost my way.


Contents

Cover (#uc45fc6fe-6595-5765-a373-4981bc3be8f1)

Back Cover Text (#ubc39c979-eb68-5d3c-bb40-fa48613fb26e)

Introduction (#u20246f4c-a15a-5ad8-865e-05b833c5a581)

Dear Reader (#ua17fa1b1-d2e0-590f-babf-85527ed560cf)

About the Author (#u1500aa1f-4196-52ab-b87d-25aa5e637a11)

Title Page (#uf9699446-488c-5cbe-bbdd-28712a7777c2)

Bible Verse (#ua07d1791-8113-5872-b9df-fef1f1a84170)

Dedication (#u54068d52-2f58-5618-b36b-53ac81058433)

Chapter One (#u386ac7f3-29a7-5713-ace2-ade081e6f3d2)

Chapter Two (#u47f50668-25e3-531b-af50-039409fb73c5)

Chapter Three (#u162270d3-0e26-59dd-9886-cfe7e570e6b2)

Chapter Four (#u9aa3423c-d98c-5960-8a43-d7617ea113c6)

Chapter Five (#u09feac91-fb9b-5885-b698-0d499f6b1b79)

Chapter Six (#u8df43b0b-c630-5029-950f-6ef4d9ccd511)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Turnabout, Texas

June 1899

“I think he’s sleeping. We prob’ly shouldn’t bother him.”

Sheriff Ward Gleason opened one eye and tilted his chin up enough to see from under the lowered brim of his hat. Sure enough, the child on the train seat in front of him had turned around and was kneeling up facing him. She had her doll propped up on the seat back facing him as well.

“Is there something I can do for you, Half-pint?” He mentally winced as soon as the words left his mouth—it was the nickname he’d used for his younger sister. Bethany was on his mind quite a bit right now. And this child, with her curly blond pigtails and freckled button nose, had her look.

The girl giggled. “My name’s not Half-pint, it’s Meg.” She held up her doll. “And this is Chessie.”

That much he already knew. The youngster, who couldn’t have been more than four or five, had chattered almost nonstop since she and her companion, whose name was apparently Freddie, had boarded the train about an hour ago.

Not that he minded. Sleep had eluded him on this long, mournful trip and he would prefer not to be left to his own thoughts.

Ward straightened and tipped his hat back off his brow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”

“Did you hear that, Chessie?” Meg half whispered to her doll. “He called us ladies.”

Then she looked back his way and pointed to his companion. “Why do you have that puppy with you?”

Ward glanced at the dog sleeping on the seat beside him. At four years old, give or take, Pugs wasn’t a puppy anymore, but he was lapdog-sized, so he understood her confusion.

“He’s my sister’s dog. But I’m going to be taking care of him now.”

The little girl frowned. “How come your sister didn’t want him anymore? Was he bad?”

“Not at all. But I’m afraid she’s no longer able to take care of him.”

“Oh.” The little girl studied him thoughtfully for a moment. “Is she sick?”

His throat constricted but he nodded. “She was. And now she’s gone.” Bethany’s casket was aboard the train two cars back—he was escorting her remains back to Turnabout to lay her to rest beside their parents. He was finally bringing his sister home. Just not in the way he’d wanted.

Did the little girl understand the concept of death?

But Meg nodded solemnly. “My momma and poppa are gone too. It’s just me and Chessie and Freddie now.” She gave her doll a tight squeeze. Then she looked at the dog. “What’s his name?”

“Pugs.”

She smiled. “That’s a good name for a doggie.” The child’s smile turned hopeful. “Can I pet him?”

Ward shrugged. “Sure.”

The child turned at once to her companion. “Freddie, can I pet the puppy? Please?”

Freddie, who appeared to be about sixteen, turned to stare at Ward, obviously reluctant. Ward didn’t take offense. In fact, he approved of the young man’s caution.

Then the youth glanced back at Meg. “You shouldn’t be bothering folks. Turn around and play with Chessie.”

Ward frowned. The youth didn’t sound so much protective as irritated. He’d gathered from earlier chatter that the two were siblings, and he would have expected a more caring attitude. Then again, he knew from personal experience what it was like to be thrust into the role of parent at that age. Twelve years ago, he and Bethany had become orphans as well. He’d been sixteen at the time and Bethany almost thirteen. And though he’d tried to be a parent to his little sister, he’d failed her, with tragic results.

Which was why he itched to give Meg’s brother a lecture about just how precious a little sister was and how he should cherish her while he had her. Maybe he would say something to him at some point if he could do so without Meg overhearing.

But now was not that time.

A moment later he realized the train was slowing. They must be approaching Kittering. After this stop, there were only two more before the train would pull into the Turnabout station. It would be good to get home.

Would Hazel be waiting for him at the depot?

Hazel Andrews, Turnabout’s seamstress, had been Bethany’s best friend when they were children and the only other person who had visited her from time to time these past twelve years. She’d been a true friend to his sister.

And to him.

Hazel had been the only person he’d been comfortable discussing his sister with since Bethany had been installed in that private asylum—his worries and concerns over Bethany’s mental state and care, his memories of happier times.

The only things he didn’t discuss with Hazel were his feelings of guilt.

Ward pulled his thoughts back to the present as Meg’s brother leaned forward to speak to the passenger in the seat in front of him, a matron who was trying to watch over two fussy children. One of the children chose that moment to let out a loud, petulant whine. Whatever Freddie had been saying to the child’s mother was met with a firm no as the harried woman tried to quiet her little one.

Freddie plopped back against his seat as if in defeat.

“Please, can I pet the puppy?” Meg asked again.

Freddie glanced back at Ward, an assessing gleam in his eye. “Are you sure it’s okay with you, Mister?”

Ward shrugged. “Pugs would probably be glad to get some attention and I certainly don’t mind.”

Freddie stood. “The thing is, I need to get off to send a telegram. Would you mind watching Meg till I get back?”

Ward hesitated, not sure he wanted that responsibility. Then again, it was just for a few minutes and they were in a confined space—it wasn’t as if the child could run off or get into trouble. “I suppose I can do that.”

With a relieved smile, Freddie turned to Meg. “You behave yourself and do what this man says, you hear?”

The little girl nodded, obviously more interested in the dog than her brother’s departure.

Without another word, Freddie quickly headed for the exit.

Ward gave the girl a smile. “Meg, why don’t you sit here with me and Pugs until Freddie comes back.”

The child eagerly scrambled from her seat to join him.

Meg and Pugs took to one another immediately. Before long the little girl was the giggling recipient of canine kisses and face licks.

Ten minutes later, the flow of passengers exiting and boarding had finally trickled to nothing and still there was no sign of Freddie. He thought about going in search of the youth, but thoughts of having to drag Meg and Pugs along gave him pause.

For the first time Ward wondered if he should have taken Hazel up on her offer to make this trip with him.

But if they’d taken this trip together, she might have read more into it than he intended. Hazel had been making it obvious for a while now that she had more than a casual interest in him, though he’d done nothing to encourage her. He didn’t have any interest in forming that kind of relationship with any woman, not so long as he was sheriff. A man couldn’t be responsible for the welfare of an entire town and also give a wife the attention she deserved.

Though, to be honest, on the rare occasions when he allowed himself to think about it, if he ever did want to find himself a wife, Hazel would likely be his first choice. Not that he’d ever let her know that.

So instead of inviting her along, he’d asked her to take care of the things that needed to be done in preparation for the funeral. And she’d graciously agreed. As she always did when he asked a favor of her.

The whistle sounded, bringing him back to the present. The train would be pulling out of the station soon and Meg’s brother still hadn’t returned.

Ward stood. He picked up Pugs and reached for Meg’s hand with his free one. “What do you say we go get some fresh air?”

She nodded and trustingly took his hand.

As they stepped out on the loading platform, Ward scanned the area for any sign of Meg’s brother, but the youth was nowhere to be seen. What could be keeping him?

The conductor yelled a long, drawn-out all aboard. Ward immediately marched over to him.

“You can’t leave yet, you’re missing a passenger.”

The conductor frowned. “We have a timetable to keep to. Whoever’s missing had better hurry.”

Ward nodded toward Meg. “It’s her brother.” He kept his voice pitched for the conductor’s ears only.

The man looked down at Meg and his expression lost some of its officiousness. Then he grimaced. “I can give you ten extra minutes, but that’s the best I can do.”

Ten minutes—that wasn’t much time. “Do you know where the telegraph office is?”

The conductor nodded to his left. “Inside the depot.”

At least he didn’t have far to go. “Come on, Half-pint, we’re going for a little walk.”

He managed to get the three of them inside the depot, then looked around. Freddie was nowhere to be seen. His feeling that something was seriously wrong deepened.

Ward marched to the counter and got the clerk’s attention. “A young man came in a little while ago to send a telegram. Did you see where he went afterward?”

The balding man didn’t bother glancing up. “Can’t help you. Hadn’t been anyone send a telegram all afternoon.”

The train whistle sounded again and Ward’s pulse kicked up a notch. What would he do if Meg’s brother didn’t return before the train departed? He couldn’t abandon Meg but he couldn’t take her with him either.

His best option was to stay behind with Meg until they located her brother. Which meant sending Bethany’s casket on without him, the mere thought of which set a silent howl of protest pulsing through him.

But he had to tamp that down. He was a lawman and his duty to help others had to override his personal desires.

Decision made, Ward returned to the train just long enough to collect his and Meg’s bags. Taking firm hold of his two charges, he watched the train pull away without him.

It appeared Bethany’s remains were going to make the last leg of her trip home without him.

He’d failed her all over again.

* * *

Hazel Andrews closed the door of the Fashion Emporium and hurried down the sidewalk. She’d had a busy morning making certain everything was taken care of for Bethany’s funeral this afternoon. It was the last thing she would be able to do for her childhood friend and she wanted to make sure she’d given it her best.

Now she was headed to the station to meet the morning train. She wanted to be there when Ward stepped off. This couldn’t have been an easy trip for him and he would need a friend right now.

And it seemed that was all she was destined to be to him—a friend.

“Oh!”

“Pardon me.” Hazel had been so lost in her own thoughts she’d practically run into Cassie Lynn Walker. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you all right?” She bent to pick up the package the very expectant mother-to-be had dropped.

Cassie gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m fine. And thank you,” she said as she accepted the package. “It was as much my fault as yours. I’m clumsier than a toddler learning to walk these days.” She rubbed her protruding stomach ruefully.

“You have good cause to be.” Hazel did her best to force down the pang of jealousy. It seemed every other woman of marriageable age in Turnabout had found a husband and started families.

Was it so wrong of her to want the same thing?

Cassie touched her arm, smiling sympathetically. “I hear the sheriff’s sister was a good friend of yours. I’m awful sorry for your loss.”

Cassie’s words pulled Hazel out of her self-pitying thoughts. Unlike Bethany, she still had the opportunity to change her circumstances. And that’s what she intended to do.

In the most decisive way she could imagine.

“I hear tell the sheriff didn’t make it in yesterday afternoon as planned. I hope nothing serious has happened on top of his loss?”

Hazel shook her head. “He’s assured me he’ll be on this morning’s train.” It wasn’t an answer, exactly, but it was the best she could do. “In fact, I’m on my way there now. If you’ll excuse me.”

As Hazel resumed her march to the train station, she wondered exactly what had delayed Ward. The telegram he’d sent had only stated that he’d been temporarily detained and would arrive this morning.

It wasn’t like the always serious-to-a-fault sheriff to get sidetracked easily, so it must have been something really important.

A few minutes later Hazel stepped onto the station platform and saw the plume of smoke in the distance that signaled the train approaching.

She knew she shouldn’t still get this little tingle of anticipation at the thought of seeing Ward. After all, she’d given up on her hopes that he would someday return her feelings. Truth to tell, she wasn’t even certain what her own feelings were anymore. Sure, she still liked and admired him, but she wasn’t certain she loved him, at least not in the romantic sense. She wasn’t even sure she knew what that kind of love was.

And right now she had other problems to deal with. Her financial situation was such that she needed to make some radical changes in her life. Saying goodbye to Turnabout and all her friends here was going to be difficult, but accepting her aunt’s invitation to move to New York and work with her seemed like the best answer to her financial woes.

And perhaps it would give her a fresh start in other areas of her life as well.

On the heels of that thought, she saw the train rounding the curve that brought it fully into view. Her lips curved in a self-mocking smile as she realized her hand had gone up to her hair to make certain none of her unruly tresses had come loose. Old habits were hard to break, it seemed.

Hazel stood well back on the platform as the train pulled in, wanting to avoid the steam and soot it trailed in with it. She eagerly scanned the few passengers who stepped from the train and smiled as soon as she saw Ward’s tall, familiar form emerge.

Then her brow went up. He wasn’t alone. He had Pugs with him, thank goodness. But there was also a small girl holding tightly to his hand. Who was this child and why was she with Ward? Did she have something to do with why he’d been delayed?

Hazel didn’t step forward immediately, trying to take in the implications of what she was seeing.

Ward scanned the platform, as if looking for someone. When his gaze finally connected with hers, the smile that lit his face warmed her in spite of her earlier resolution. Was it pleasure or relief that she saw reflected there?

Then she noticed how tired and harried the normally unflappable sheriff looked and rushed forward, all her nurturing instincts bubbling forth. “Welcome back. I see you brought some friends with you.”

Ward nodded. “I did. This is Meg.” He turned to the little girl. “Meg, this is Miss Hazel, the nice lady I told you about.”

He’d spoken of her? “Hello, Meg.”

The little girl moved closer to Ward. “Hello.” Then she held out her doll. “This is Chessie.”

Meg’s attachment to Ward and his protective attitude toward her in turn touched something inside Hazel. She’d always thought he’d make a good father someday.

Smiling at that thought, she stooped down to get a better look at the child’s doll. “Well, hello, Chessie. I’m so pleased to meet both of you.”

Hazel met Ward’s gaze, dozens of questions swirling in her mind, but none she wanted to ask in the presence of the child.

“Meg is going to be in my care for a while,” he said cryptically.

Hazel waited a moment for more information but none was forthcoming. Finally, she straightened and turned a smile on the little girl. “Well then, welcome to Turnabout, Meg. I hope you’re going to enjoy your stay here.”

Meg nodded. “Is Mr. Gleason really the sheriff?”

Hazel cut a look Ward’s way. “That he is.” She gave him a teasing smile. “And a very good one too.” She was rewarded for her praise with a faint upturning of his lips.

“Sheriff Gleason’s sister died,” Meg stated forlornly.

The words jolted Hazel’s attention back to the little girl. “Yes, I know.” She studied the child, her curiosity growing. Apparently Ward had told Meg something of Bethany. Or had she already known?

Yes, the child favored Bethany slightly, but that didn’t mean anything. If someone had tried to pass Meg off as his sister’s daughter, surely Ward knew better—

As if sensing something of her thoughts Ward raked a hand through his hair and then turned to Meg. “Half-pint, why don’t you take Pugs and sit on that bench over there. I need to speak to Miss Hazel for a few minutes.”

Half-pint. That’s what he used to call Bethany. Hazel again felt that tug of both curiosity and denial.

What was going on here?


Chapter Two (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Ward had hoped to put off this conversation at least until after the funeral, but he could see now that that had just been wishful thinking. Hazel had never been able to hide her emotions and her expression practically screamed with the questions playing out in her mind.

Besides, he needed her help, so the sooner he gave her the explanations she wanted, the sooner he could make his request.

The thing was, he’d felt off balance ever since he’d realized Freddie wasn’t coming back. He was certain that was why he’d experienced such an unexpected flood of relief when he spotted Hazel waiting for him on the platform earlier.

At least relief was how he chose to describe what it was he’d felt.

Not that she was hard to spot—she tended to stand out even in a crowd. And it wasn’t just her red hair. As a seamstress she took full advantage of the skill and materials at her disposal. Even though she wore a dark colored dress today, a departure from her usual bright colors, she hadn’t resisted adding what he thought of as “Hazel touches” to it. The elegant bits of ribbon and lace she added to her frocks and the feminine fit were part of her trademark style.

Shaking off those wayward thoughts, Ward took Hazel’s arm and drew her a few feet away from where Meg sat, making sure he could keep an eye on the child in his periphery. Ignoring the familiar scent of orange blossoms that always seemed to cling to her, Ward launched immediately into a quick explanation. “I know you have a lot of questions, but there’s not really much to say right now. The short version is that Meg and her brother boarded the train a few stops past mine, then the brother slipped away at the very next stop, abandoning his sister. I’m looking out for Meg until I figure out what to do with her.”

Hazel’s eyes widened and he saw the genuine sympathy reflected there. “Oh my goodness. That poor baby.” She glanced toward Meg. “How awful for her. I hate to contemplate what could have happened if you hadn’t been the one to take charge of her. But how—”

He raised a hand to stem the flow of words. “I’ll answer all your questions, or at least tell you as much as I know, after the funeral.”

“Of course.” She bit her lip a moment. “You called her Half-pint,” she said softly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling unaccountably self-conscious. What was wrong with him? “It sort of slipped out the first time.” He shrugged. “It’s just a silly nickname.” But they both knew it was more than that.

Hazel studied Meg thoughtfully. “She does favor Bethany just a little.”

“So you see it too.”

Hazel nodded. “I think it’s the freckles and pigtails.” Then she turned and gave him a probing look. “But she’s not Bethany.”

Did she think he was being overly sentimental? “Of course not.” Then he quickly changed the subject. “Is everything in place for the funeral?”

Her raised brow said quite clearly that she knew he was avoiding the subject. But she followed his lead. “Yes. Reverend Harper will preside at a graveside service at one o’clock, just as you requested.”

Before he could say more than a quick thank-you, they were interrupted.

“Sheriff Gleason, glad to have you back in town.”

Both he and Hazel turned at the hail.

Ward straightened when he realized it was Mayor Sanders. The man wouldn’t be here unless there was town business to discuss.

Hazel spoke up first. “Good day, Mayor. Are you here to meet someone?”

Ward was surprised to hear a slightly confrontational tone in her voice. Was she at odds with the mayor over something? That thought brought out his protective urges.

“Actually, I came to see Ward.” The mayor tugged on the cuff of his shirt. “Official town business.”

She pursed her lips. “Surely whatever you have to discuss can wait. Sheriff Gleason just returned from his sister’s deathbed. And now he has to get ready for her funeral.”

He relaxed, realizing she’d gotten her back up on his behalf. She was certainly a magnificent sight when she got riled up, all flashing eyes, ruddy cheeks and battle-ready posture. But in this instance her well-intentioned interference was unnecessary. This was his job. “I assume there was some kind of trouble while I was gone?”

The mayor turned from Hazel back to him with a relieved nod. “I’m afraid so. There’s been another incident and it’s likely the same scoundrel who hit the Lawrences’ and the Carsons’ places. Only this time they’ve moved right into the heart of town.”

Hazel spoke up again, her foot tapping impatiently. “Pardon me, gentlemen, but this seems to be a discussion that can wait until after the funeral.”

Mayor Sanders shot her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I certainly don’t expect the sheriff to do anything about this today. But I wanted him to hear about it straight away in case he runs into some talk or complaints from other townsfolk.”

“Quite right.” Ward gave Hazel a firm, not-your-business look before he turned back to the man who was, in effect, his boss. “Let’s go to my office so you can fill me in on the details.” Then he hesitated, looking over at Meg, remembering he wasn’t as unencumbered as he’d once been.

He shifted his gaze to Hazel, hoping she could read his unspoken request.

And of course she did. Taking her cue, Hazel smiled down at the child. “Meg, why don’t you come with me while Sheriff Gleason and Mayor Sanders take care of a little business?”

But Meg popped up from the bench and clutched at Ward, her eyes wide with apprehension. Poor Half-pint, being abandoned by her brother had obviously made her anxious about any hint of being cast aside again.

As usual, Hazel rose to the challenge. Without further prodding from him she stooped down to get on eye level with Half-pint. “We can take Chessie and Pugs with us too. And I’ll introduce all of you to Buttons.”

“Who’s Buttons?”

Hazel’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe Meg didn’t already know. “Why, Buttons is just the prettiest and smartest cat you’ve ever seen.”

Ward refrained from rolling his eyes at that clearly overblown description and placed a hand on the child’s head, trying to reassure her. “It’ll be okay, Half-pint, it’s just for a little while.” Wasn’t that the same promise Freddie had made to her? “I’ll come on by to get you later on my way to the funeral.”

Ward ignored the startled look on the mayor’s face—a sign of what he could expect from his fellow townsfolk over the coming days, no doubt—and turned to Hazel. “Thank you,” he said, touching her arm. “I’ll come by the dress shop as soon as I’m able.”

She nodded, her eyes widening slightly. He pulled his hand away quickly, wondering if she’d felt that same spark of awareness.

What was wrong with him?

She recovered quickly and her eyes flashed a warning. “Then we’re going to talk.”

“Of course.”

He watched as she bent to pick up Pugs. Then she took Meg’s hand with her free one and began regaling the little girl with tales of her cat’s exploits.

Once again Hazel had stepped in to help without the least hesitation. Strange how he’d gotten used to always having her to count on. And she never let him down.

Then, shaking off thoughts of the usually-flamboyant-but-always-dependable seamstress, he shifted into his businesslike frame of mind and turned back to the mayor. “Let’s go over to my office and you can give me the details.”

* * *

As Hazel led the child away from the station she silently chided herself for that unguarded reaction to Ward’s touch. Hopefully she’d recovered quickly enough so that he hadn’t noticed.

Pushing those unwanted thoughts aside, she turned her focus to the little girl at her side. It was so like Ward to take personal responsibility for a lost child’s welfare. He could have turned Meg over to the sheriff in Kittering. Or contacted a children’s asylum. Or done any one of a dozen other things that would have shifted responsibility for the little girl to someone else. And no one would have thought any less of him if he had, especially given the mournful errand he was on.

But that wasn’t his way.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself falling for the overly serious, secretly tender-hearted sheriff all over again. And she had to guard her heart against that, at all costs. She’d made her decision to leave and she couldn’t let sentiment hold her back now. It had become painfully obvious to her that there was no future for her in Turnabout, either financially or emotionally.

Because, by her reckoning, if nothing changed to bring customers into her shop, she’d be out of funds in about three months.

This was for the best, no matter how difficult taking that first step would be.

“Is it very far?”

Meg’s question drew Hazel’s thoughts back to the present. She’d planned an impromptu stop as a treat for the little girl, but she realized Meg looked sleepy. “Actually, I thought we’d make one stop along the way, but if you’d rather go straight to my place we can do it another time.”

“Where do you want to stop?”

“There’s a little shop called The Blue Bottle, where they sell the most delicious sweets. They also have a selection of wonderful wooden toys. Would you like to visit there?”

Meg’s face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes. And Chessie would like it too.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. And since you’re probably tired from that long trip, I’ll let you pick out whichever sweet you like.”

“Can we get one for Sheriff Gleason too? He’s tired from the trip too.”

Hazel looked at the child’s earnest expression and her heart melted a little more. Meg really had developed an attachment to Ward. “I think that’s a splendid idea.”

How could this sweet child’s brother have just abandoned her? There had to be more to this story than what Ward had told her in those few seconds. Surely it was some dreadful mistake and Meg’s brother would come looking for her soon. To believe otherwise was just too sad to contemplate. And if she knew Ward, he wouldn’t rest until Meg’s situation was put to rights.

But if the brief time she’d spent with Meg was any indication, if and when the brother returned, it might be difficult for the sheriff and the little girl to part ways.

* * *

Ward sat at his desk in the sheriff’s office, waving Mayor Sanders to the chair in front of him. He had hoped the string of incidents—part vandalism, part schoolboy pranks—plaguing the community had run their course and things would have settled down by the time he returned, but from the sounds of things, that wasn’t the case.

Before Ward had gotten word of his sister’s passing, there had been several incidents that seemed the work of overzealous mischief-makers. The hooligans had visited Enoch Lawrence’s place three times, trampling the garden, splattering paint, stealing laundry from the clothesline. Then they’d moved to a neighboring farm, opening the paddock gate and letting Saul Carson’s horses out, causing the rancher to lose a full day rounding them back up.

The one rather vague eyewitness account he’d gotten had come from Enoch’s daughter Hortense, who said she thought she caught a glimpse of two youths racing away after one of the incidents. All of which led him to believe it was the work of rambunctious kids who’d gone overboard with their pranks. But that didn’t make it any less unlawful and when he caught the culprits they would be dealt with severely.

“So let’s have it,” he said to the mayor.

“Last night someone broke a window in the back of the mercantile, pulled some of the canned goods from the shelves and took fistfuls of rock candy from the display case.”

It was sounding more and more like some fool kids with too much time on their hands. But they were getting much braver and more criminal with each incident. “You keep saying they. Do we have any idea how many?”

“No, in fact, no one’s seen anything since Enoch’s daughter reported what she saw. I’m just assuming it’s the same culprits.” He rubbed his chin. “There’s some as think it was the Lytle boys, though no one can agree which ones.”

Elmer and Orson Lytle were cousins but there’d been hard feelings between them for years. He wasn’t sure even they remembered the reasons anymore. Both men had two sons who were unfortunately beginning to follow in the footsteps of their fathers.

“Why the Lytle boys?”

“You mean besides the fact that they’re wilder than badgers and twice as ornery? The four of them started a brawl in the middle of the mercantile. Doug had to throw them out for disrupting his business and they were none too happy about it.”

“That’s not really proof that they’re the ones who broke into the place.” Though it sure gave them a strong motive.

The mayor shrugged. “Of course you should do your own investigating. I’m just letting you know what folks are saying.”

Then he gave Ward a pointed look. “The main thing you need to keep in mind is, folks are getting really stirred up about this, demanding something be done.” He grabbed the edges of his coat and gave them a tug. “And quite frankly, I agree with them. I know this isn’t a good time for you, what with your sister’s passing and all. But it may mean some extra patrols and late-night vigils from you until the perpetrator is caught.”

There was the hint of a warning in those words.

Ward wasn’t opposed to putting in extra hours to catch these lawbreakers; it was his job after all. But what did that mean for his ability to look out for Meg?

The mayor gave him a calculating look. “Not to pry into your personal business, but that little girl you had with you at the train station...”

He paused a minute as if expecting Ward to fill in the blanks. But Ward refused to make this easy for him and held his peace.

After a moment of awkward silence, the man continued. “Mind if I ask where she’s going to be staying while she’s here?”

“That hasn’t been decided yet.” Ward met the man’s gaze steadily, daring him to say anything else on the subject. While looking after Half-pint might not be part of his job, it was definitely a responsibility he felt strongly about. He hoped he wasn’t going to be put in the position of having to choose between the two duties.

Finally, Mayor Sanders nodded and took his leave.

Ward remained at his desk, fatigue dragging at him like an anvil. He hadn’t slept well since he’d received word of Bethany’s passing, and it was all starting to catch up with him.

The news of the break-in at the mercantile had only added to that feeling of bone-tired weariness.

Ward pushed away from his desk, mentally throwing up his hands. It was time to get ready for the funeral and nothing was going to make him late for that. He hadn’t been there to escort Bethany’s remains on the last leg of her trip home. Sure as the sun came up in the morning, he would be there to see her laid to rest.

As he walked the short distance to his house, a small structure next door to the sheriff’s office, he wondered how Hazel and Meg had fared. He had to admit, for all Hazel’s unorthodox ways, it was good to know he had someone like her whom he could count on to help out in a pinch.

Sometimes it felt as if he were taking advantage of the warmer feelings she had for him, especially since he didn’t return those feelings. But then again, he’d never led her on or gave her reason to think he considered her anything more than a friend. Better if they both just looked at it as one neighbor helping another.

Maybe she’d have some idea of what he should do about this whole unexpected situation with Meg. After all, Hazel’s mind seemed to work in ways he’d never been able to fathom—she might see something he was missing.

Could he impose on her to take in the little girl until the matter was resolved? He certainly couldn’t keep Meg at his place—if for no other reason than that his cramped living quarters weren’t a fit place to house a little girl.

But first he’d have to answer Hazel’s questions about Meg’s situation.

It didn’t take him long to get cleaned up. He pulled out his Sunday suit and paid meticulous attention to how he dressed. He would do his sister proud today.

As he pulled on his freshly shined boots, he glanced toward his bed. It would be so good to lie down for just a few minutes but he resisted the temptation. If he lay down now, he might not get back up until tomorrow morning.

Besides, Hazel and Meg would be waiting for him.

When he reached the dress shop he was surprised to see Hazel had the Closed sign in the front window. His conscience niggled at him. Was it in honor of Bethany’s funeral? Or because he’d taken advantage of her generosity and left Meg in her care?

He’d just raised his hand to knock when the shop door opened and Hazel and Meg stepped out.

The dark blue—nearly black—dress Hazel wore should have looked severe on her. But somehow it didn’t. Instead it highlighted the coppery gold of her hair and set off her green eyes to perfection. And her smile, as always, softened her sharp features. It was a mystery to him why some other bachelor hadn’t claimed her hand by now. Seeing her with Meg drove home just how suited she was to be a wife and mother. If only he was the settling-down sort—

Better he not let his thoughts go there.

Before he could greet them, Meg rushed over and hugged his leg. “Sheriff Gleason! You came back!”

The strength of relief and delight in the little girl’s voice caught him off guard. His anger toward her brother resurfaced. It was wrong that such a young child should be made to worry about being abandoned.

“Of course I came back, Half-pint. I told you I was going to look out for you.”

“Miss Hazel and I got this for you,” she said, holding out a small parchment-wrapped parcel. “It’s a piece of brittle. I had one, too, and it’s very good.”

“Why, thank you.” He turned to Hazel. “Both of you.”

Hazel nodded. “You’re welcome. But it was all Meg’s idea.”

Meg cast a worried look at the closed door. “Do you think Pugs and Buttons will be okay while we’re gone?”

“Absolutely.” Hazel slid the key in her pocket. “Buttons will simply find a shelf or tabletop to settle on if Pugs gets too rambunctious.”

Meg turned back to him. “Buttons didn’t seem to like Pugs very much. But Miss Hazel says that they’re gonna learn to be friends.”

He took her hand. “Well let’s hope Miss Hazel is right, shall we?”

As they walked down the sidewalk with a happily chattering Meg between them, Ward found his thoughts turning to the funeral service that lay ahead. Thoughts and emotions he’d been able to hold at bay while dealing with Meg’s tumble into his life were trying to break free. His sister’s life, such as it had been, was over and she was at peace now.

He mourned her passing and he mourned that he’d never been able to make things up to her. His guilt was still there, coloring all those other feelings, and it was only made worse by the faint but real undercurrent of relief he felt at her passing.

Ward cleared his throat, trying to refocus his thoughts. “I want to thank you again for taking care of all the funeral arrangements. I know that was a lot of work to drop in your lap.”

Hazel’s expression softened. “You’re more than welcome. I was honored to be able to do this for Bethany.”

Would she be up to doing him one more very large favor? Having her take Meg in until he could come up with a more permanent solution for the little girl seemed an ideal solution, at least from his perspective. There was no one he’d trust with Half-pint more. And she, of all people, would likely agree that he wasn’t the best caretaker for a child. After all, she’d been there when Bethany had had her accident, the day everything changed.

When they reached the churchyard Ward could see the small crowd gathered for the funeral. He was surprised by how many were there—he hadn’t realized so many people remembered his sister.

As they reached the graveside, he steeled himself once more against the flood of emotions threatening to break free. He knew his sister was in a better place now, but the guilt he felt for having made her last twelve years in this world so troubled was something he’d never be able to forgive himself for.

He tried to focus on something other than the yawning hole in the ground. Jacob White stood to one side, softly playing his fiddle—a hymn that Ward couldn’t quite place. There were flowers on the closed casket—mostly irises, which had been Bethany’s favorite. He had no doubt Hazel was responsible for those little personal touches. He would have to remember to thank her again later.

Hazel stayed at his side during the service, which seemed fitting. She was almost as much family to his sister as he had been. And there was no one in his life he felt closer to.

Throughout it all, he maintained a rigid control over his own expression, not daring to look anywhere but at the casket and that yawning hole in the ground that lay waiting to swallow up what was left of his little sister’s earthly remains.

Reverend Harper, who had known Bethany before her accident, gave a touchingly personal eulogy. The words of God’s love and promise of everlasting life were a balm to his own troubled spirit.

Once the service ended, Hazel touched his arm for a moment, the gesture oddly consoling. Then she withdrew with a restless Meg to one of the benches that were tucked under an ancient oak near the edge of the cemetery.

Strange how he missed the comfort of her presence.

As the mourners disbanded, many of them paused to offer condolences. Among them were Enoch Lawrence and his daughter, Hortense. Enoch’s voice was overly loud and gruff as he assured Ward he would hold him in his prayers. The man’s hearing loss seemed to be getting worse by the day and he compensated by raising the volume of his own voice.

Then Hortense, or Tensy as she preferred to be called, spoke up, her eyes moist with emotion. “It was a lovely service,” she said. “Just the sort your sister would have wanted.”

Tensy was closer in age to him than his sister, so the words were probably mere platitudes, but he appreciated the thought. “Thank you, I believe she would have as well.”

“Please, if there is anything at all I can do for you over the coming weeks, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you.” He’d received many such offers today. While he was certain they were all sincerely meant, he didn’t intend to take anyone up on them.

After all, what could anyone do to ease his guilt?


Chapter Three (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Hazel helped Meg hop up on the sturdy but worn bench. Meg had been remarkably well behaved during the service, fidgeting much less than Hazel had anticipated, but by the end it had been clear she needed something to distract her.

It warmed Hazel’s heart to see so many folks gathered for the service. Did Ward realize they were all there to support him?

The soft strains of “What a Friend We Have In Jesus,” Bethany’s favorite hymn, had added an air of reverent sweetness to the gathering. Had Ward felt it too?

But she could tell that he’d withdrawn into himself. There was an air of rigid control about him, as if he were trying to hold back some unwanted emotion. It was his way, of course. But she couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t have done some good for him to mourn outwardly as well.

What was he feeling? Grief, of course—but there was more to it than that. Guilt? Sorrow for what could have been? A touch of relief that his sister was at peace now? Probably a combination of all of them. She knew because she felt some of that as well.

Meg swung her legs and chattered away to her doll, pointing out a squirrel scampering up a tree, a butterfly flittering around and any number of other things that caught her eye.

Earlier, when the three of them had walked through town, Hazel had imagined that they must look the very picture of a happy family. Oh, how she wished that were true.

But she had to stop thinking like that. She looked around and realized she and Meg were on the receiving end of a number of curious glances but thankfully no one approached them. She had no answers to give them where Meg was concerned.

The questions she had about just who Meg was and what the future had in store for the little girl were growing. Could Ward really find Meg’s brother if the youth didn’t want to be found?

Hazel had briefly considered questioning the little girl herself earlier but that just hadn’t felt right. So far Meg seemed to be adjusting to the situation remarkably well, but there was no sense in needlessly stirring up potentially painful memories.

She’d have no such compunction with Ward, though. As soon as she could get him cornered, he would definitely have some explaining to do.

Then she glanced his way and her resolve faltered. He looked so weary, so weighted down. Maybe she wouldn’t press him today.

Tomorrow would be soon enough.

* * *

When the last of the townsfolk had left, Ward turned to see Hazel and Meg already heading his way. The two of them made a sweet picture together, a welcome contrast to the dreariness of his thoughts.

“Have you had anything to eat today?” Hazel asked as they reached him.

Ward’s lips turned up slightly. She was bound to be near-to-bursting with questions about Meg, but leave it to her to focus on more immediate needs.

“We had breakfast before we boarded the train this morning,” he answered.

She shook her head with pursed lips. “That’s what I thought—you skipped lunch. Come along, let’s get you something to eat.”

He shot her a questioning look. “Come along where?” Hazel herself was the first to admit she wasn’t the world’s best cook. When the church held the annual picnic hamper auction fund-raiser, hers was usually one of the last baskets bid on.

“Daisy’s restaurant. I haven’t had time to do any cooking of my own.”

“All right. But I’m buying.”

She raised a brow, as if that was a given. “Of course.”

“And then we’ll talk.” Though he wasn’t certain how he would give her the full explanation with Meg listening to the conversation.

“Yes, we most certainly will.”

Then she smiled down at Meg. “You should know, this restaurant we’re going to is very special.”

“It is?”

Hazel nodded solemnly. “Do you know what a library is?”

The little girl shook her head.

“Well, a library is a place that’s full of books, all kinds of books—” her tone changed as if revealing a great secret “—including picture books.”

“I like books with pictures,” Meg said hopefully.

“Well then, you’re going to really like the library. It’s located inside the restaurant. I’m sure Miss Abigail, the lady who runs it, will be happy to let you borrow one.”

Ward was impressed. It seemed Hazel had thought far enough ahead to find the child a distraction while they chatted.

Once in the restaurant, Hazel asked Abigail to show Meg the picture books. As soon as they were out of earshot, Hazel rounded on him. “Are you up for a discussion, or would you rather wait until you’ve had time to rest up a bit?”

He was surprised she was giving him a choice. “Ask your questions and I’ll answer them as best I can.”

“What do you know about Meg other than her name, and what are your plans to see that she’s cared for?”

Ward quickly and succinctly explained what had happened up to the point where he decided to step off the train with Meg in Kittering to search for Freddie.

When he paused, Hazel, who’d been making sympathetic and amazed noises by turns during his recitation, finally spoke up. “But this is awful. That poor little lamb. Did you learn what happened to Freddie?”

Ward again felt that burning anger over what Meg’s brother had done. “I contacted the local sheriff and he gathered up some folks to help search. After nearly an hour I finally looked through Meg’s bag and found this.”

He withdrew an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Hazel. He watched as she began to read. He had no need to look over her shoulder. He’d read and reread the stark missive enough times that he now had it memorized.

If you are reading this letter, then Meg is now your responsibility. It’s my hope that you will provide a good home for her, but that is up to you. Meg is my sister but I never asked to be left in charge of her. I have my own future to look out for. I can’t give Meg the kind of home she needs and she would not be happy or welcome in the new life I’m starting, so please don’t try to find me.

Here are some things you need to know. Her name is Megan Lee, but everyone calls her Meg. She is four years old and her birthday is August 10. She likes to talk a lot but a sharp word will usually settle her down, for a while at least.

We don’t have any other family to speak of so it won’t do any good to go looking.

Good luck.

Freddie

Hazel raised her gaze from the sheet of paper and looked at Ward, her expression one of disbelief and dawning outrage. “This is terrible. How could anyone, most especially her brother, be so heartless as to dump her in the hands of a complete stranger with such disregard for her feelings and safety?” She glanced toward Meg. “That poor little girl—does she know?”

Ward rubbed the side of his jaw. “I’m not certain how much she really understands. When I asked her about the trip they were on, she said Freddie told her only that they were going to find a new family for her. Apparently there was no familial affection on either side. Meg doesn’t seem unduly dismayed that her brother is no longer around.”

“What’s going to happen to her now?”

That was a good question. “For the time being I’ll keep trying to locate Freddie. I also plan to search for any other relative or family friend who might be able to shed some light on this situation.”

Hazel’s forehead creased in frown lines. “What if you do find her brother? Surely you can’t place her back in his charge. There’d be nothing to prevent him from abandoning Meg again. And next time Meg might not be so lucky in who she winds up with.”

He was in total agreement with her on that score. “No, Freddie won’t get his hands on Meg again, even if he does decide he wants her back. But I need some answers, and Meg’s brother is the best one to give them to me.” His jaw tightened. “For all I know, Freddie may have stolen Meg away from another family member who is frantically searching for the child even now.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She plopped back in her seat. “I suppose anyone who would toss aside a child so callously is capable of anything.” She gave him a searching look. “How do you plan to proceed with her in the meantime?”

That was the sticking point. “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. Any suggestions?”

“She’s obviously formed a bond with you. It would be a shame to hand her off to a stranger yet again.”

Not the answer he’d been hoping for. Where was that eagerness to help him she’d always displayed with such annoying tenacity? “The trouble with that plan is that I’m not exactly in a position to offer her a proper home.”

She traced a circle on the table with her finger, not quite meeting his gaze. “Oh, I don’t know. Other than being a trifle small, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with your home.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Was she being deliberately obtuse? “For one thing, my work is not the sort where I have regular hours or that allows me to have a child tagging along. For another, I’m hardly the kind of caretaker a four-year-old needs.”

Hazel’s expression regained some of that familiar softness as she met his gaze again. “She could certainly do a lot worse.”

Her answer surprised him given what had happened to Bethany. But Hazel had always been a look-on-the-bright-side kind of person.

“You seemed to have managed all right last night,” she added, as if that settled matters.

“I wasn’t on my own. Reverend Mills, the preacher over at Kittering, offered us a room at his place for the night and Mrs. Mills took care of Meg.”

Hazel nodded slowly, nibbling on her lower lip as if trying to puzzle something out. What was going on in that rather unorthodox mind of hers?

Then she seemed to come to a decision. “If it’ll help you, I’ll be glad to watch Meg for a few weeks, but first there’s something you need to know.”

Relieved that he’d gotten a commitment of sorts from her, Ward smiled. A few weeks should be sufficient time for him to figure things out with Meg. But why had she put a time limit on it? Had she started some new project while he was away—it seemed Hazel always had a project or cause to champion.

He spread his hands, inviting her to continue, confident it was something he could deal with.

She lifted her chin, giving him an almost defiant look. Why was she being so melodramatic? Surely, whatever it was wasn’t so—

“I’m leaving Turnabout in a few weeks and moving to New York,” she finally blurted.


Chapter Four (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Ward felt everything inside himself suddenly go still. Surely Hazel hadn’t meant that the way it sounded? “You mean you’re taking your annual trip early?” Her mother had come from New York and Hazel still had family there that she visited regularly.

“No.” She tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. “I mean I’m moving to New York permanently.”

Turnabout without Hazel’s vibrant presence? It was unthinkable. Trying to keep his demeanor matter-of-fact while he absorbed the impact of what she was saying, he raised a brow. “This seems a bit sudden.”

She studied her hands on the table. “Not really. Aunt Opal has asked me a number of times over the years to work in her fashion design business. I’ve finally decided to accept her offer, is all.”

“I see.” Except he didn’t. Why would she do such a thing? And why now? She’d always said on her return from her trips back east that it felt really good to be home again. “Exactly how soon do you plan to make this move?”

“I haven’t set an exact date, but soon. I talked it over with Verity before she and her family headed out on their vacation and I promised her I wouldn’t leave until she returns.” Hazel shrugged. “They’re due back in about three weeks.”

So soon! The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach deepened. And if she’d been planning this since before the Coopers left, why was he just now hearing of it? “I see,” he said again, not that he did.

Why had her decision unsettled him so much? “And you’ve made up your mind?”

She nodded, looking down as she brushed at her skirt. “So you see, I can only help you with Meg for that long.”

This was so much bigger than not helping with Meg. How could she just leave like this? How long had she been contemplating this move? Was she so unhappy with her life here, or was there something in New York drawing her there? Could she have met someone on her last trip? Was—

Hazel reached across the table and touched his wrist, bringing his thoughts back to the here and now.

“But for the next three weeks,” she said, “I’ll do whatever I can to help with Meg.”

He forced a smile. It was the second time today she’d touched him that way. He found he liked it. Perhaps a bit too much. He had to remind himself to keep things on a just-friends basis. But it didn’t sound like he’d have to bother with that for much longer.

“I appreciate that,” he said, responding to her offer. “And we’ll just have to hope I have some answers about Half-pint by then.”

He glanced toward the library area, forcibly shoving aside his feelings about Hazel’s defection to deal with later. Right now he’d have to figure out how to best let Half-pint know she wouldn’t be staying with him after all.

As if understanding what he was feeling, Hazel followed his gaze. “She probably won’t understand why you need to hand her off to me.”

“I’m not exactly handing her off,” he protested.

She gave him a stern look. “That’s not how she’ll see it.” Then she glanced Meg’s way. “The news would be best coming from you, I believe.”

Ward nodded and caught Abigail’s eye, signaling that she should bring Meg back to the table.

Meg skipped back to them, a large book clutched in her hands. “Miss Abigail said I can borrow this one,” she told Ward proudly. “We can read it together.”

The trusting way she looked at him made Ward feel even more guilty for what he was about to do. But it was for the best. He lifted her up on his lap. “That sounds nice. But I have some good news for you. Miss Hazel has said you can stay with her at her place for now.”

The little girl frowned. “But you said I could stay with you.”

He kept his smile firmly in place. “I know, but being sheriff means I sometimes have to work long hours. Besides, Miss Hazel’s place is bigger and much nicer. And I promise I’ll visit with you every day.”

Meg’s lips trembled slightly. “Don’t you want me to stay with you?” She tightened her hold on her doll. “I promise I’ll be good,” she said desperately. “Freddie says I’m a lot of trouble but I promise I won’t be if you give me a chance.”

The child’s pleas touched Ward’s heart and he again wanted to strangle Freddie. He brushed the hair from Meg’s forehead. “I don’t think you’re any trouble at all, Half-pint. In fact, I think you’re a bright little ray of sunshine. But I don’t have a lot of room at my place and you’ll be much more comfortable at Miss Hazel’s.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “I don’t take up much room.”

He had to work to keep his encouraging smile in place. “True, but it’s not just the space. I also have to work, and I’m afraid I can’t take you with me when I do.”

“I can stay at your house while you work. I’m big enough to stay by myself—Freddie said so. And I can clean things for you while you’re gone. Freddie taught me how to sweep and dust, at least the things I can reach. Please.” Her lower lip trembled as if tears were imminent.

Ward’s chest tightened. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she started crying. Her words, as well as her desperation not to be handed off again, spoke of what her life must have been like under her brother’s care.

How could he tell her no? Yet how could he not?

Almost without conscious thought, he turned to Hazel for help.

* * *

Hazel wasn’t certain how she’d expected Ward to react to the news that she was leaving Turnabout, but she definitely felt let down. Not that she’d expected him to beg her to stay, not exactly anyway. But she’d certainly expected more from him than the mild curiosity he’d displayed.

She supposed his reaction, and her disappointment over it, was just one more indication that it was indeed time for her to move on.

But there would be time to mull that over later. Right now there were more important matters to attend to. Responding to Ward’s what-do-I-do-now look, Hazel refrained from saying I told you so. Instead, she reached over and lightly touched Meg’s wrist. “I have a very nice guest room at my place and would love to have you stay there with me. My very best friend, the lady who usually works at the dress shop with me, is out of town for the next several weeks and it would be nice to have you to keep me company.”

But Meg wasn’t swayed. “You have Buttons to keep you company,” she said earnestly. “Sheriff Gleason doesn’t have anybody.” Meg’s voice had a desperate tone to it and her lower lip trembled again. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist. “He lost his sister so he needs me to be his new family.”

Hazel heard Ward’s sharp intake of breath but for the moment she didn’t dare meet his gaze. The emotions swirling around in the aftermath of that statement were both too strong and too fragile for that.

She finally took a deep breath and glanced at Ward, studying his now closed-off expression, silently gauging his needs against Meg’s. Normally she’d do just about anything to put a smile on his face. But this was bigger than what he needed, or rather what he thought he needed.

Making a decision, Hazel met Meg’s gaze again and took both of her hands. “You’re absolutely right,” she said firmly, “and families should stay together.”

She ignored Ward’s involuntary movement, keeping her focus on Meg, warmed by the child’s blossoming smile. “So how about we do this? You can stay with me during the day while the sheriff is at work and keep me company at the dress shop. And then in the evenings, Sheriff Gleason can fetch you and take you home with him.”

She sensed Ward’s displeasure but ignored him for the moment.

Meg seemed to think about her words for a minute. “You mean, sort of like I was going to school?”

Hazel squeezed her hands. “Exactly! Only you’d be coming to the dress shop instead of school.”

“All right.” Meg hugged her doll tightly. “I guess that would be okay.”

“Good girl. We’re going to have fun together, I promise.”

Hazel straightened and turned to Ward, noting his look of betrayal. She hoped, once he thought things over, he would see that this was the best solution. And not just for Meg.

To do him credit, he refrained from argument and smiled down at the little girl. “All right, Half-pint, we’ll give it a try. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Instead of a nice bed at Miss Hazel’s, you’re going to have to sleep on the couch in my parlor.”

Meg didn’t seem the least bit concerned. “I’m going to be a good little sister, I promise.”

Hazel saw something flash in his eyes—something that seemed part pain and part tenderness. Which only strengthened her belief that underneath his closed-off exterior was a man with a very big heart. A man who needed someone to lavish his affection on. And if it couldn’t be her, she was glad he had Meg.

But he squeezed the little girl’s shoulder and helped seat her in her own chair. “I’m sure you will.”

Did Ward know how much Meg had already changed him, breached his defenses?

* * *

As they ate their meal, Ward was relieved to see Meg return to her sunny, chatty self. He felt much less satisfied with the way they’d settled matters.

His mind was reeling from the double blow Hazel had landed him. First saying she was moving away—his mind still shied away from that one—then giving in to Meg’s pleas to let her stay at his place. Both seemed like betrayals, though he refused to think about which stabbed deeper.

How could Hazel have done this to him? Especially after he’d given her all the reasons why Meg staying at his place couldn’t work. And it wasn’t just the demands of his job, though that should have been enough to make his point. Didn’t Hazel know about the added demands that dealing with this town hooligan had placed on him?

But he wasn’t fit to be caretaker of a little girl under any circumstances, especially one who was so young. He’d thought Hazel understood.

Was her sudden defection due to the fact that she was moving away? Was it so easy for her to leave everything she’d grown up with behind? Leave every one behind?

Things seemed to be changing so fast. He still hadn’t gotten used to the loss of Bethany. And then being thrust into the role of caretaker for Meg. Now Hazel up and announced she’s leaving. It was just too much to take in.

After the meal, he escorted them back to Hazel’s place, feeling acutely conscious of the curious looks they were receiving from the folks they passed. He supposed it was difficult for his neighbors to see him in the role of a child’s guardian as well.

As soon as they stepped inside the dress shop, Meg went in search of Pugs and Buttons.

Taking advantage of the opportunity to speak freely, Ward turned to Hazel. He wanted to ask her not to leave. But he had no right. And nothing to offer her if she stayed. So he focused on Meg instead. “You realize I know nothing about being a parent to a little girl.”

She moved to the shop counter. “You did okay with Bethany.”

“Bethany was twelve, not four, when our father passed. And we both know how badly I failed in taking care of her.”

She spun around, her expression dismayed. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your—”

He interrupted her before she could finish that statement. “Spare me your platitudes.” He waved a hand, silencing whatever protest she seemed poised to make. “But that’s beside the point. As sheriff, I’m likely to get called out in the middle of the night. How can I do my job if I’m playing nanny?”

Her lips pursed in exasperation. “You won’t be playing anything. And you’ll be a father to her, not a nanny.”

He jerked his hand, dismissing her explanation. “Those are just words. I’m not qualified to be either.”

But she didn’t relent. “You’ll figure something out. And as you’ve said yourself, this is just a temporary situation. Once you get the answers you’re looking for, you’ll be able to turn Meg over to the proper parties. Until then, yes, perhaps as sheriff you’ll be slightly less responsive in the evenings than normal.” She straightened. “And, if the worst happens and you really need to be out, you can bring her here to me, any time of night or day.”

He could tell she meant that. But he wasn’t certain how practical that solution would be given the kinds of situations he might be called on to respond to. For now, though, he’d have to accept her terms. “I warn you, I start making my rounds very early in the mornings.”

“That won’t be a problem—I’m an early riser as well.”

It seemed she had an answer for everything.

They just weren’t the answers he was hoping for.

Hazel gave him a breezy smile. “You undoubtedly have some things you need to attend to. Why don’t you just go about your business. I’ll bring Meg to your place at, say, half past five?”

Was she actually dismissing him? He wasn’t at all a fan of this new Hazel, the one who was looking ahead to leaving Turnabout rather than trying to claim his attention. This was going to take some getting used to.

Of course, since she was leaving soon, there wouldn’t be a “new Hazel” to get used to much longer.

But she was right, he did have some things to attend to. He nodded, then turned to Meg. “I’ll see you later, Half-pint. Be good and mind Miss Hazel.”

As Ward marched out of Hazel’s shop, he jammed his hands in his pockets. Why was Hazel pretending she didn’t hold him accountable for what happened to Bethany? She’d been there that day, after all, had seen what had happened when that rotten board in the loft gave way.

Of course she didn’t know the full extent of his guilt. Bethany had fallen out of the barn loft because he had neglected to make the needed repairs, even though he’d known it needed tending to.

And why had he put it off? Because he’d been busy mooning over a girl. He’d spent so much time that week trying to figure out how to ask Lucy Brick if he could walk her to church the following Sunday that he hadn’t gotten around to doing all the maintenance work he’d set for himself.

And because of his lack of discipline, Bethany had fallen and never been quite the same again.

It had been his first and most tragic lesson in how costly such distractions could be. He’d almost forgotten that last year, had let his guard down again because of a desire to get closer to someone. He’d begun to think just maybe he could relax his guard a bit around Hazel, could perhaps look at her as more than a friend.

Then that Walker girl had been kidnapped right under his nose. That incident had ended on a happier note than the one with Bethany, but her rescue had been no thanks to him.

It just proved, once and for all, that he couldn’t do his job, a job where others depended on him, if his loyalties were divided.

It was as simple, and as hard to swallow, as that.

* * *

Hazel stared at the door Ward had just exited through. Somehow, telling him of her plans to move had made the whole thing seem much more real, more inevitable. Almost as if she’d reached the point of no return. His lukewarm reaction to the news, however, had bothered her more than she’d like to admit. There’d been a couple of times today when she’d thought he’d looked at her with a warmth that was based on more than mere friendship. But apparently that had been wishful thinking.

One thing Ward had made obvious was that he was not happy with the way she’d handled the matter of Meg’s living arrangements. Well, that was just too bad. She’d done what she thought best.

And speaking of Meg...

Pasting on a smile, Hazel turned to the little girl. How was she going to entertain her for the next several hours? In spite of Ward’s obvious assumption that she would be a better caretaker for Meg, she had very little experience with children. True, Verity’s little girl, Joy, spent a lot of time with them in the emporium, but she’d never been left alone with the six-year-old for more than a short time.

Then she realized Meg’s chattering had slowed down and her eyes were getting droopy. Poor lamb, she’d had a trying couple of days, and she was probably used to napping after lunch.

Hazel held out her hand. “What do you say we go upstairs and read one of the stories from that book Miss Abigail loaned you?” There was really no point in opening the shop for the few business hours left to the afternoon. It was a sad fact that with the amount of ready-to-wear clothing available through the mercantile, demands for her services had dwindled considerably. It was the reason for her current financial woes, the reason she’d accepted Aunt Opal’s invitation to move to New York.

Hazel settled Meg on the bed in her guest room and opened the book of fairy tales. She only made it through one page before the child was fast asleep.

Feeling at loose ends and wanting to occupy her thoughts with something other than Ward’s reaction to her news, or lack thereof, she focused on what might be needed to make Meg’s stay at Ward’s place more comfortable. Uncertain what a bachelor like Ward might have on hand, she decided the first order of business would be to gather up some extra bedding. That done, she turned to more personal needs.

Ward had mentioned that there was hardly anything in the girl’s travel bag—a change of clothing, a wooden toy, a nightshirt.

She looked through her own things and came up with an extra hairbrush, a sweet-scented bar of soap she’d purchased last time she was in New York and a soft washcloth.

She studied the still-meager collection, feeling dissatisfied with the result. A trip to the mercantile was definitely in order. They’d go as soon as Meg woke from her nap.

The little girl slept for nearly an hour but when she woke she was once more a bubbly chatterbox. When Hazel explained about the trip to the mercantile, Meg seemed to look on it as an adventure.

There were three other customers in the store and Mr. Blakely was behind the counter when they arrived. All heads turned and conversation ceased when she and Meg walked in. Meg turned suddenly shy and moved closer to Hazel’s side. Hazel placed a hand protectively on her shoulder.

“Good day, Mr. Blakely,” she said cheerily. She introduced Meg merely as a new friend, then straightened. “We’re just here to pick up a few necessities.”

“Of course.” The mercantile owner nodded. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

Hazel led Meg down the middle aisle where she found a toothbrush and toothpaste, which had been conspicuously missing from Meg’s things. She also found some ready-made undergarments and a nightshirt that looked to be about the right size. A little tin horse that Hazel noticed had caught Meg’s eye rounded off her purchases. She brought everything back to the counter for Mr. Blakely to ring up. While he took care of that, she smiled down at Meg. “Should we add a few lemon drops to our purchases?”

Meg’s eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.

Mr. Blakely reached into the display case and added the candy to the pile of items. “On the house,” he said with a smile. “As a welcome to Turnabout gift.”

Once they were done, Hazel paused a moment. “I was wondering, Mr. Blakely, if you’d mind if I borrowed one of your handcarts.”

The shop owner waved a hand. “Of course. You can bring it back in the morning if you like.”

Hazel loaded their purchases in the cart, then smiled at Meg. “Would you like to ride?”

A few minutes later Hazel was walking down the sidewalk pushing the cart with a giggling Meg riding inside.

When they arrived back at Hazel’s place, Hazel loaded up all the other things she’d gathered for Meg and added them to the cart as well.

Meg looked it over and frowned.

“What’s the matter,” Hazel asked. “Is there something I forgot?”

“What about Sheriff Gleason?” the little girl asked. “Shouldn’t we do something for him?”

That was unexpected. “What would you suggest?”

Meg was quiet for a minute, her face scrunched in thought. Then she smiled. “Maybe some flowers to make his home pretty.”

Hazel hid a grin as she pictured Ward’s reception to such a gift. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Come along, I have a rose bush in my backyard.”

Candy this afternoon. Flowers this evening. Yep, Meg was going to be very good for the stuffy sheriff.


Chapter Five (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Ward opened his door to see Meg and Hazel standing there. Meg had her doll under one arm and a small jar filled with flowers in her hands. The three of them were accompanied by an overflowing handcart and squarely perched atop the mound of goods was Pugs, his stubby tail wagging. It definitely appeared Meg was moving in.

Hazel waved to the cart. “Meg and I gathered up a few things we thought she might need while she’s staying here.”

Apparently he and Hazel had different concepts of how many items “a few” entailed.

“And I picked these for you.” Meg held out the flowers.

“Why, thank you.” Ward took the proudly offered bouquet, not quite certain what he should do with it. No one had ever given him flowers before.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Hazel eyeing him and Meg with a touch of amusement. So she found this funny, did she?

Hazel cleared her throat. “Meg’s already had her supper along with a nice warm bath.” She waved to the overflowing handcart. “Mr. Blakely said we could keep the cart overnight. So you can either return it yourself in the morning or leave it with me when you drop Meg off and we’ll return it.”

He set the jar of flowers on the bench that sat just inside the door and then stepped past her to roll the thing into the house. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Well then, I’ll bid the two of you good evening.” She stooped down to bring her face level with Meg’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Make sure you help Sheriff Gleason take care of Pugs.”

“Yes, ma’am. And don’t worry, me and Sheriff Gleason will be okay.”

Ward hoped she was right. Then he frowned at Pugs. “Wait a minute. You’re not leaving the dog here, too, are you?”

Hazel straightened. “Of course. He needs to get used to being with you since...” She glanced Meg’s way. “Since I already have a pet.”

He understood her reluctance to let Meg know she was leaving. No point in giving Half-pint something new to worry about. He still couldn’t quite accept the idea of Hazel’s imminent departure himself. In fact, he’d decided it was probably just another of her not-quite-thought-through schemes and that she’d give up on it eventually.

Still, there was a nagging voice inside him that said he was wrong.

“Don’t worry,” Meg said, giving him a reassuring look. “Pugs won’t be any trouble and I’ll help take care of him.”

Hazel straightened and, with a final wave, turned and left him alone with the little girl and the dog. He tamped down the cowardly urge to call her back.

What did he do now?

Shaking off his uncharacteristic uncertainty, Ward brought Meg the rest of the way into his house and watched as she took it all in. Which didn’t take long, given the small size of the place. This first-floor level was really just one large room—to the left was the kitchen and dining area and to the right was what passed for a parlor. There was also a small washroom just behind the kitchen.

A set of stairs led up from the parlor to the second floor, which was where his bedchamber was located, along with a small room that served as storage in lieu of an attic.

That was it. It had always been more than enough for him, especially since he didn’t entertain guests here. But right now it felt exceedingly small.

He’d seen Hazel peeking inside when she thought he wasn’t looking. What had she thought of the place? Not that that mattered, he told himself irritably.

Meg moved to the sofa, drawing his attention back to her. “Is this where Chessie and I are gonna sleep?”

“I’m afraid so.” Was the child having second thoughts about the arrangement? He certainly was. “It’s not too late to go back to Miss Hazel’s place if you want.” He did his best to keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

Meg sat down on her soon-to-be bed with a bounce. “I like it here.” Then she looked around. “Where will Pugs sleep?”

“Over there on the floor by the stove.” He hoped Half-pint wasn’t expecting him to turn any of his linens into a dog bed.

Meg popped up and went to the cart. “Me and Miss Hazel made him a bed, we just need to decide where to put it.”

Of course they had. “That was right thoughtful of you.”

“Uh-huh. And it’s pretty too.” She drew out a large, lumpy-looking pillow made of a yellow-and-blue-striped fabric. “Pugs already tried it out and he likes it.”

“As he should.” He hoped Meg didn’t hear the note of sarcasm in his voice.

Fortunately, the child seemed oblivious to any undertones. She nodded agreeably. “We’re going to make another one for him to use at Miss Hazel’s house when we’re there with her.”

“Sounds like Pugs is going to be a very pampered pooch.”

She nodded. “Miss Hazel says Pugs took very good care of your sister and that he probably misses her a lot. So now we need to take extra special care of him.”

Leave it to Hazel to put such a sentimental spin on it. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to fault her for it. “Miss Hazel is right.” Ward looked at the cart full of things Hazel had delivered along with Meg. Apparently she had indulged in a bit of shopping this afternoon. He’d have to remember to reimburse her.

Having to stow all of this stuff made Meg’s moving in feel much more permanent than it had seemed earlier. Where was he going to find the room? He looked around at the sparse furnishings of his place. There was really only one choice.

He moved to the large bookshelf situated on the far end of the room. He quickly cleared off one of the lower shelves. “Let’s stack your things here for now. We’ll find something better tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Meg carefully placed her doll on the sofa and came over to help him.

Nestled in one corner of the cart, he found what looked like a miniature bird cage, complete with a metallic bird perched inside. “What’s this?”

“It’s a music box. Miss Hazel gave it to me. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you ever saw?”

“It’s mighty pretty, all right.” He examined the delicate brass contraption.

Meg nodded. “She has a lot of them and she let me pick out whichever one I wanted.” The child took it from him and turned the key affixed to the back of the box. “This one was my favorite.” As soon as she released the key, a lilting tune began to play, filling his home with its happy sound.

“I never had anything this special before,” she said dreamily.

They finished unloading Meg’s things to the strains of the delicate tune.

He finally leaned back on his heels, studying the results of their labor. Maybe he could come up with a couple of crates or an old trunk tomorrow. Perhaps Hazel had something he could borrow.

He paused on that thought. He’d have to stop relying on the accommodating seamstress for those sorts of things.

Was she really leaving? She’d said it was because she wanted to work with her aunt, but he suspected there was more to it than that. What wasn’t she saying? It shouldn’t bother him so much that she wasn’t confiding in him, but for some reason, it did. She’d always been so open with him before. If truth be told, she often over shared. He couldn’t remember now why that had irritated him.

Meg tugged on his pants leg, reclaiming his attention. She had retrieved the book he’d just put away. “Would you like to read me and Chessie a story?” she asked.

He stood and dusted his hands. “All right, but let’s get your bed fixed up first.”

Hazel had been supremely confident that he could handle this. It suddenly seemed quite important he proved her confidence in him was not misplaced.

* * *

Hazel had been up since dawn. How had Ward and Meg gotten on last night? It had been difficult to leave yesterday evening, especially when she’d seen the I’m-not-ready-for-this-yet expression on Ward’s face. But it had been the right thing to do. That little girl had her heart set on being Ward’s family and Ward needed someone in his life to show him that kind of devotion.

And it obviously wasn’t going to be her. As she sipped on her morning cup of coffee, she bowed her head and offered up a heartfelt prayer.

Heavenly Father, I don’t know how long or short a time Meg will be under Ward’s care, but I do believe that You brought them together for a reason. Please help these two hurting souls find solace and healing in each other, for whatever time they have together.

After she’d put out some food for Buttons and spent time cooing over him as befitted his temperament, she straightened and looked around her for something else to do. “I really should spend some time sorting through my things and packing the items that can be shipped ahead,” she told the feline absently. “Then again, Ward did say he was an early riser so maybe I’ll just go downstairs to the emporium and open the doors now. What do you think?”

The cat continued eating without acknowledging her words.

“Downstairs it is.” She turned toward the stairs and descended to her shop. She unlocked the door and turned the sign from Closed to Open. Mr. Hill had already turned out the town’s streetlamps so it wasn’t quite as early as she’d thought. But even so, hers was the first shop on her block to open for a change.

Hazel had just finished raising the shades on the display window when Ward escorted Meg and Pugs into the place.

“Good morning,” Ward greeted her. “I see you’re as good as your word about rising early.”

She noted the hint of surprise in his voice. “Of course. No point in letting the cool of the morning go to waste.”

Meg’s pigtails were slightly uneven but at least all the hair was contained and she seemed to be in a sunny mood.

“Did you two have breakfast yet?”

Meg nodded enthusiastically. “Sheriff Gleason and I had some bread and fig jam. It was very good.”

Ward looked sheepish. “It was all I had. I’ll pick up some groceries before she returns to my place this afternoon.”

Did he even know how to cook for a four-year-old?

Wanting to have a word in private with Ward, she smiled down at Meg. “If you and Pugs would like to go say good morning to Buttons, he’s right over there by the button bin.”

With a nod, Meg skipped over to greet the cat.

Hazel immediately turned to Ward. “So how did things really go last night?”

He grimaced. “It could have gone better. But we both survived so I guess that’s something.”

“Was it really so terrible?”

He shrugged. “One thing I figured out pretty quick was that I’ll have to do something about our sleeping arrangements.”

“Why? Did you have trouble getting Meg to settle down?”

“Not at all. From what I can tell, Meg slept like a hibernating bear cub all night. Problem is, she goes to bed so early, I have to do the same or risk waking her. And I realized that if anyone comes knocking at my door needing help, they’ll disturb her before I can so much as get out of bed. And even if they don’t, it doesn’t seem right my being upstairs and her being downstairs by herself.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She frowned “But didn’t you say you don’t have a guest room?”

“I don’t. Which means I’ll have to turn my room over to Half-pint. And I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” Hazel resisted the urge to once again offer to let Meg sleep in her guest room. He had to figure out how to make this work without her. Instead she made another suggestion. “Edgar Crandall would probably let you use one of the hotel’s portable beds. It wouldn’t be the same as your regular bed but it would be more comfortable than the sofa.”

She saw what looked like consternation in his expression but it disappeared quickly. He merely said, “Good idea. I’ll check into it.”

She smiled sympathetically, trying to be supportive while not taking on more than she should. “I know it’s a bit awkward while you’re getting used to the situation. But things will get better once you’re both able to form a routine.”

“I don’t think it will come to that. I hope to have a more permanent solution for her predicament before long.”

What kind of solution did he hope to find? “Whatever happens, you need to make sure Meg has a good home. It breaks my heart to think of all she’s been through.”

He stiffened as if she’d insulted him. “Of course. I don’t intend to turn her over to just anyone. That’s why I need to do some digging, to find out as much as I can about her situation and what options we have.”

“And just how do you plan to accomplish that?”

He arched a brow. “You’re certainly curious about the details for someone who’s leaving us all behind soon.”

Even though his words stung, Hazel tried not to take offense. “My leaving is beside the point. I care about Meg and what happens to her.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “To answer your question, I’ll start with what I know. They boarded the train at Adler’s Bluff. And if the note Freddie left is to be believed, their last name is Lee. I’ll wire the sheriff of Adler’s Bluff and see if he knows anything about them.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “You do realize she’s growing more attached to you by the day. Even if you find family members who want to take her in, it’s going to be a difficult separation for her.”

“We’ll just have to deal with that when the time comes. She’ll be better off with someone else, someone who can be a good parent and will give her the kind of loving home she needs. You and I both know I’m not that person.”

That again. “I know no such thing.”

He gave her an exasperated look, as if her words were nonsense. Then he crossed his arms. “Regardless, you won’t be around to see how it all unfolds, will you?”

She stiffened, brought up short more by the hint of accusation in his tone than the words themselves. “My future plans are not up for discussion. Meg’s future is what we need to concentrate on.”

Why in the world did he keep bringing that up and in such an accusatory way? Was he more bothered by her plans to move away than he’d let on yesterday? If so, was it because he’d truly miss her or was it just the inconvenience of not having her to help with Meg?

The shop bell jangled, interrupting their conversation.

Eunice Ortolon, the town’s biggest busybody, breezed into the shop, chin up at a disapproving angle. Hazel had no illusions she was here to make a purchase.

Nevertheless, she stepped forward with a smile on her face. “Good morning, Eunice. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I came to speak to the sheriff. I saw him step inside here.”

Ward straightened and spoke up. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to make certain you’d been made aware of the incident at the mercantile.”

He nodded. “Mayor Sanders and I discussed that when I arrived in town yesterday.”

“Does that mean you’ll be arresting the Lytle boys?”

“If I find proof that they are indeed the perpetrators, I certainly will.”

“Proof? I would say it’s obvious that they’re guilty.”

“Unfortunately, suspicion and talk don’t constitute proof.” He placed his hat back on his head. “Now if you ladies will excuse me, it’s time for me to make my rounds.” And with a tip of his hat, Ward made his way unhurriedly through the door.

That was one of the many things Hazel admired about Ward: his ability to remain calm even when provoked.

Eunice’s lips pursed in a sour line for a moment, then she caught sight of Meg, playing on the floor with Pugs. Her expression quickly changed to one of speculation. “So that’s the little girl the sheriff’s taken in.”

Hazel nodded, feeling suddenly protective of both Meg and Ward. “Her name is Meg.” Then she gave the same explanation she’d heard Ward give when pressed. “Her family placed her in Sheriff Gleason’s care temporarily. I’m merely helping out during the day while he’s at work.” All of which was true.

Eunice, however, wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “I would think anyone who knew the sheriff well enough to leave their child in his care would know about the loss of his sister. This hardly seems an appropriate time for him to be taking on such a responsibility.”

Hazel’s protective instincts shifted to include Ward. “On the contrary, it seems the perfect time. Sheriff Gleason needs such a distraction right now to keep him from dwelling on his loss.”

Eunice sniffed disdainfully. “Distraction? Hah! I would think finding this hooligan who’s been running amok through our town would be enough to keep him busy.”

“I’m sure he’s working hard to discover who the culprit is.”

“Well, I don’t know why it’s taking so long. Everyone in town knows one of the Lytle boys is to blame. The only thing Sheriff Gleason needs to do is find some proof as to which one and then arrest them.”

Hazel pressed her lips tightly closed to keep from saying something she’d regret. She crossed her arms. “Are you interested in ordering a new frock today?”

Eunice made a quick excuse about not being quite ready to decide, then made her exit.

Which was just as well. Much as she needed the business, she wasn’t sure she could deal with Eunice’s sanctimonious airs right now.

Once Eunice left, Hazel had an idea. “Meg, how would you like for me to make you a new dress?” The little girl’s wardrobe had been pitiably lacking. And remedying that was a good way to keep her and Meg occupied while they spent the day together.

The child’s eyes rounded. “Brand new? Just for me?”

Had Meg never owned a new dress before? “Of course. And you can help me pick out the fabric.”

Meg held out her doll. “What about Chessie? She only has this one dress and it’s getting raggedy.”

Hazel smiled approvingly. “What a wonderful idea. Why didn’t I think of that? We can even make it to match yours if you like?”

Meg returned Chessie to the crook of her arm and clapped in delight. “Oh yes! Me and Chessie would really like that.”

They spent the next hour or so picking out the proper fabric and trims, pausing occasionally as customers showed up.

In fact, more ladies found their way into her shop that morning than she’d seen in the past few weeks. But none of them ordered anything. The visits seemed to all be thinly veiled excuses to get a better look at Meg and to try to find out more about the child. Thankfully, the little girl seemed oblivious to the stir she was creating.

When pressed, Hazel used the same explanation she’d given Eunice. And for the most part, folks left it at that.

As Hazel and Meg studied fabrics, she had to gently steer the little girl away from the more inappropriate fabric choices, but at last they found something both of them liked. It was a bright yellow cotton fabric with tiny white and orange flowers scattered throughout.

Hazel was getting excited about the project. She’d never made children’s clothing before so this would be something new for her. It would be easier than a lady’s garment, but she could already envision ways to make it special for Meg. She would make a fairly simple jumper first, just so she could produce something quickly. But then she’d make a couple of additional garments and do something extra special—maybe some pin tucks or even smocking.

“And I think we’ll make a white ruffled pinafore that you can wear over it.”

“And one for Chessie too?”

“Of course.” The little girl certainly loved her doll.

Meg tilted her head, studying Hazel thoughtfully. “Can you make clothes for a man too?”

The little girl’s question brought up an image of Ward’s broad shoulders and lean, athletic build. She could make him a shirt in a crisp fabric, perhaps a smoky blue color to match his eyes.

Before she could answer Meg’s question, the shop bell jangled, signaling the arrival of yet another visitor. Hazel turned toward the door and braced herself for more prying questions. This time it was Hortense Lawrence standing there. Surprising, since Tensy had never set foot in the emporium before.

Had it taken the promise of gossip to get her into the shop?

The young woman stood at the threshold of the dress shop as if not quite certain whether or not to come the rest of the way inside and Hazel’s heart softened. Tensy had always been somewhat shy and awkward.

“Why, hello. Please come in. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, that is, I was just wondering...” Tensy’s stammering response tapered off as she glanced Meg’s way. But rather than being interested in Meg’s presence, Tensy seemed disconcerted by it, as if she hadn’t expected Meg to be there.

Hazel chided herself for jumping to conclusions. It didn’t appear Tensy was here to pry about the little girl after all.

Hazel smiled down at Meg. “Sweetheart, you see that display of ribbons over there? Why don’t you go pick out one for you and one for Chessie while Miss Lawrence and I talk?”

After Meg skipped off to examine the ribbons, Hazel gave her visitor a bracing smile. “Now then, was there something you wanted to discuss with me?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t certain what the child’s relationship was to you and I didn’t want to say anything to upset her.”

“Oh?” What did she have to say that would upset Meg?

Tensy hesitated, as if uncertain how to proceed. But then she squared her shoulders and gave Hazel a self-deprecating smile. “Forgive me for prying, but I heard a rumor that you’re moving away and I wanted to find out if it was true.”

So it was a different sort of gossip Tensy was trying to dig into. Though she wasn’t sure why Tensy should care about her leaving town—the two of them weren’t particularly close. Hazel was glad she’d sent Meg out of earshot. No point in giving the little girl something else to worry about. “That’s not a rumor, it’s the truth. I’ll be moving to New York in a few weeks. I have an aunt who lives there and she’s invited me to work in her fashion studio. It’s all quite exciting.” At least that was what she kept telling herself.

Tensy nodded with an approving smile. “I thought it must be something like that. You’ve always been such an inspiration to me.”

Hazel was slightly taken aback. She’d never realized Tensy had even noticed her before. “What a lovely thing to say. Thank you.”

“Oh, I mean it.” Tensy sighed. “It’s so uplifting to see a woman who’s not afraid to spread her wings and go where her talents can really shine.” She fingered her collar. “I don’t think I’d be able to summon the courage for such a move myself. But you’re going to do well in New York, I just know it.”

It seemed at least one person was happy for her.

Then the woman hitched her shoulder slightly. “I apologize if it seems I came here just to pry into your personal business, but I do have a reason for asking. I wanted to see if the rumor is true because I’d like to have a very special dress made, and there’s no one in Turnabout who can do it better than you.”

Hazel perked up at that. Even if she’d be closing her shop soon, it would be nice to have a paying customer again, some money coming in to help her stretch her dwindling funds. “I certainly have time to take care of that for you before I leave. Tell me what sort of dress you’re looking for and what sort of occasion you’ll be wearing it for.”

The woman actually blushed. “I’m hoping to wear it when I get married.”

“Married! Oh, Tensy, that’s wonderful!” And totally unexpected. Hazel hadn’t been aware that the woman was even walking out with anyone. It seemed there was much more to Tensy than she’d realized.

It also reinforced the notion that she herself really was destined to be the last woman of her generation in Turnabout to find a husband.

Oh yes, it was definitely time to move on with her life.


Chapter Six (#u425a26b0-747a-5a42-8867-4aa5748fb6ef)

Hazel pushed aside her self-pitying thoughts. This was about Tensy, not her. “Who’s the lucky man?”

Tensy’s blush deepened. “I’m afraid I can’t say. I’m being premature because he hasn’t actually asked me to marry him yet.” She wrung her hands. “But we have an understanding,” she added quickly, “and I have high hopes that the proposal will come soon. The only reason I’m confiding in you this way is because you’ll be leaving soon and I had my heart set on a special dress...”

Hazel sincerely hoped Tensy wasn’t headed for heartbreak. But it wasn’t her place to preach caution. “Say no more,” she said, raising her hands. “I’m honored to have you share your secret with me. Now, let’s pick out a style first and then we’ll discuss fabrics. Do you have anything in particular in mind?”

“I want a dress special enough to make me feel like a princess.”

Hazel hid a smile at her customer’s hyperbole. “I’ll do my very best. It’s my personal belief that every bride should feel like a princess on her wedding day.” She drew out the latest copies of Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue Magazine that she had on hand and the two women began poring over them.

Tensy eagerly looked through the magazines, pointing out everything that caught her eye. These tended to be ostentatious gowns with lots of lace, ruffles and beading. Hazel mentally winced. She had nothing against embellishments, but these could be taken too far and one had to be conscious of how it would look on the individual. Tensy was much too squarely built to be able to wear such styles with grace.

When Hazel diplomatically mentioned the cost of the materials involved in such elaborate creations, Tensy’s expression turned to one of dismay.

“Actually,” Hazel said with a conspiratorial smile, “I prefer something less elaborate myself. There’s something so elegant about a simple, understated design, especially when it’s paired with just the right fabric. And we can certainly add a few extras to give it that regal look you want.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/winnie-griggs/a-tailor-made-husband/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.



Если текст книги отсутствует, перейдите по ссылке

Возможные причины отсутствия книги:
1. Книга снята с продаж по просьбе правообладателя
2. Книга ещё не поступила в продажу и пока недоступна для чтения