A Tailor-Made Husband

by Winnie Griggs

  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 oa
k 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

  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 su
ch 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.”