A Tailor-Made Husband

by Winnie Griggs

  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...

  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 or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.

  Books by Winnie Griggs

  Love Inspired Historical

  Texas Grooms

  Handpicked Husband

  The Bride Next Door

  A Family for Christmas

  Lone Star Heiress

  Her Holiday Family

  Second Chance Hero

  The Holiday Courtship

  Texas Cinderella

  A Tailor-Made Husband

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  WINNIE GRIGGS

  A Tailor-Made Husband

  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

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Mail Order Sweetheart by Christine Johnson

  Chapter One

  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 th
e 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.

 
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