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
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?
A Tailor-Made Husband Page 2
