Enoch rubbed his chin. “You thinking it might be personal rather than random.”
“It’s one of the things I’m looking into.”
“I try to treat people fairly, but of course some folks are prone to get their backs up over nothing.”
“Anyone in particular come to mind?”
“Charlie Danvers wasn’t real happy with that sow he bought from me last month, but old Charlie is hardly spry enough to do this sort of thing. He has a son though.”
Andy Danvers was a bit of a hothead. “Anyone else?”
When Enoch shook his head, Ward turned to Tensy. “Miss Lawrence, you say you heard someone the night your garden got trampled, but that it was too dark to see much. So far, you’re the only one who has witnessed anything firsthand. Is there anything at all you can tell me? The sound of their voices, their general build, their gait.”
“I’m sorry, Sheriff, I really didn’t see much other than a couple of shadowy forms running off. I got the impression they were adolescents, but I can’t even be sure of that.”
“And you didn’t see or hear anything on either of the other two instances?”
“I’m afraid not. I wish I could be more help.”
“That’s okay. Sorry to have bothered you both. The good news for you is, whoever is doing this has moved on to other targets.”
Enoch gave a disgruntled huff. “But until you catch them, there’s no guarantee they won’t return. And it won’t get me my shirt and britches back.”
Tensy gave her father a reproving look. “Now, Pa, I’m sure Sheriff Gleason is doing all he can to get this figured out.”
Ward acknowledged Tensy’s show of support with a smile. Then he straightened. “Well, I’d best be going now. Sorry to have intruded on your afternoon, but if either of you think of anything at all relating to this, no matter how minor, please let me know.”
“Of course.” Tensy gave him a conciliatory smile. “I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. You’re more than welcome to stay and have a cup with Pa.”
“Thank you, but I need to get back to making my rounds.” Ward planned to talk to the other three victims as well. Maybe one of them knew something he wasn’t aware was important.
Two hours later he was feeling more frustrated than before. Unfortunately, those visits yielded even less information than his visit to the Lawrences. There seemed to be no common enemies and no motive except for pure mischief.
Which was going to make his job ten times harder.
Chapter Seven
As Ward escorted Hazel and Meg for supper at Daisy’s restaurant that evening, he noticed that while they still received a number of curious glances, they received an equal number of warm greetings. As if folks were getting used to seeing the three of them together.
Once inside, Meg asked to look at the books in Abigail’s library again, which gave Ward an opening to speak to Hazel privately for a moment.
“Sheriff Rawley from over at Adler’s Bluff finally responded to my telegram. Unfortunately, he’s never heard of Freddie or Megan Lee. Which means either Freddie lied about their names or they came from somewhere outside of Sheriff Rawley’s jurisdiction.”
“So what do you do now?”
“I’m thinking I should press Meg a little harder for whatever information she can remember.”
As if he’d asked her opinion, Hazel glanced at the little girl, her expression skeptical. “I’m not certain how much help she’d be. Children that age normally don’t know a lot of specifics about things outside their immediate existence.”
He raised a brow at that. “And how would you know the capabilities of children that age?” She’d been an only child and as far as he knew she’d never spent much time around small children.
Hazel’s chin came up at that and her eyes narrowed. Had he said something to upset her?
“Well, there’s Verity’s Joy, who spends quite a bit of her time at the emporium.” Her expression and tone were suddenly quite prim.
Apparently he had insulted her.
She tossed her head. “And I have lots of little cousins running around getting underfoot when I visit my family back in New York.” She moved a fork a half inch to the right. “I wasn’t saying don’t ask her. I was just cautioning you not to expect too much.”
He rubbed his chin. “You don’t think talking about her home will bring up bad memories for her?”
Hazel’s expression softened. “I think, if she does have unpleasant memories of her previous life, discussing them with you, someone she obviously looks up to, will do her good rather than harm.”
Ward wasn’t sure whether her words made him feel better or worse. It seemed to assume he was capable of saying the right things, something he wasn’t at all confident of.
When Meg returned to the table, he let her crawl up onto his lap and show him and Hazel the new book she’d picked out.
Once their food arrived, though, he set her in her own chair and cleared his throat. “Half-pint, can you tell me what your father’s name was?”
“Poppa,” Meg responded confidently.
Not very helpful. “What did other people, besides you and Freddie, call him?”
Meg wrinkled her nose thoughtfully as she took another bite. Then she gave him a smile. “Oh. Mrs. Barker at the general store called him Mr. Luther.” Her smile broadened. “I like Mrs. Barker, she always gives me a piece of penny candy.”
Ward made a mental note—a general store run by a lady named Barker. It might help him pin down a location. But Luther could be a first name or a family name. “She sounds like a nice lady. But your name is Megan Lee, right?”
The little girl made a face. “That’s what Poppa called me when he was cross. But I like Meg better.”
Could Lee be her middle name rather than her surname? “Do you have any aunts or uncles?”
“There were some ants in the kitchen one time. But Poppa got rid of them.”
Ward ignored the cough from Hazel that was obviously a strangled laugh. “Tell me about the train ride.”
“It was scary at first, but then I met you and Pugs and it got lots better.”
“And I’m glad you did. But do you remember how you got to the train from your house?”
She nodded. “Freddie’s friend Rory brought us in his wagon.”
Another name to look into. “Did it take very long to get to the train station?”
“Oh yes, hours and hours.”
The little girl’s sense of time might be off. “Tell me about it.”
“It was still kind of dark when we got in the wagon and I was still sleepy so I napped part of the time. And we rode forever and ever until Freddie said it was lunchtime. And then we had a little picnic and Chessie and I picked lots of pretty flowers. And then we got back in the wagon and rode some more.”
Half-pint certainly had a flair for the dramatic. And she certainly didn’t seem particularly upset by any of their discussion so far.
“We came to this town—Rory called it Adler’s Bluff,” she continued. “Then Rory left us at the train station. But he said he would meet Freddie at Kittering.”
Just Freddie. The plan to abandon Meg had apparently been a long-standing one. But that explained how Freddie had managed to disappear so quickly and completely—Rory had arrived beforehand and been waiting to whisk him off as soon as the train pulled into the station. This had indeed been a well-thought-out plan.
At least Ward had a few more names than he’d had before. Her father was named Luther, there was a Mrs. Barker who ran a store in the vicinity of her home and Freddie had a friend named Rory. Perhaps that was enough to help him pin down her former home.
“Were you sad to see Freddie go away?” Hazel asked softly.
Half-pint shrugged and gave her
doll a tight squeeze. “Freddie never liked me much anyway. And now I have a new family.” She smiled up at Ward. “And that’s you.”
Ward felt a pang at the child’s words and the look of utter trust she aimed his way. How would she react when she discovered her stay with him was merely temporary? Should he say something now to prepare her for what was to come?
Before he could decide, her smile wobbled a bit. “You like me, don’t you?”
Had she sensed something of his thoughts? He quickly reached over and gave her knee a squeeze. “I sure do.”
That seemed to reassure the child. Then she glanced Hazel’s way. “Can Miss Hazel be part of our family too?”
Ward’s gaze locked with Hazel’s and for a heartbeat he allowed himself to picture what it might be like to have this family for his very own.
Then he remembered all the reasons why he couldn’t let that happen and dropped his gaze.
Later, as he and Meg paused at Hazel’s door to bid her good night, she hesitated a moment before going inside. “Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“I’m aware.”
“I just wanted to say, if you’d like to bring Meg around before church, I’ll be glad to help her get ready. I should have one of her new dresses finished by then.”
One of them? How many was she planning to make? He glanced down at Meg. “What do you say, Half-pint? Would you like to come by here and get your new dress to wear to church tomorrow?”
“Oh yes.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“Why don’t we plan to make a day of it?” Hazel asked. “We can plan a picnic at Mercer’s Pond, maybe even find a few late blackberries while we’re there.”
Meg’s face brightened and she turned to Ward. “Oh, can we? I love blackberries.”
He nodded. “All right, but only if you allow me to provide the food.”
Hazel raised a brow at that. “You’re going to cook?”
Did she doubt his abilities? “I’ll have you know I’m a more-than-passable cook.” Then he grinned. “But no, I plan to stop by Daisy’s and ask her to prepare some of her delicious fried chicken.”
“Then I’ll provide the lemonade and some fresh fruit.”
Ward grinned. The woman knew her weaknesses as well as her strengths.
He tipped his hat. “We’ll bid you good night then.”
Once she was inside, he took Meg’s hand and headed to his place. What was wrong with him? It seemed ever since Hazel had announced she was leaving he’d begun looking at her in a whole new light. It was not only unsettling, it was entirely inappropriate.
He’d better get hold of himself before things get out of hand.
* * *
Hazel smiled at Ward’s chivalry. He’d insisted on waiting until she was inside with her door latched before he and Meg moved on. Was he feeling protective toward her specifically or was he more concerned that the town hoodlum had not yet been caught?
Rather than going upstairs to her lodgings, Hazel went to her workroom to gather up the half-finished dress she was working on for Meg. She spotted the stack of bills waiting on her desk and for a moment melancholy shadowed her happy mood. But then she squared her shoulders. She wasn’t destitute yet and had more than enough to cover these notes and keep her going for the next few months. And by that time she would be earning her keep in her aunt’s studio in New York. Besides, with the new business Tensy had brought her, she’d have a little extra cushion.
She put thoughts of her change in fortune behind her and scooped up her materials, then headed upstairs. She’d promised Meg to have her new dress ready by morning and she intended to be as good as her word. This first dress would be fairly simple so that she could get it done quickly.
Still, she added a few extra touches as she went—lace on the collar, a pretty appliqué on the bodice, a brightly colored brocade ribbon around the waist that could be tied in a poufy bow at the back.
As she worked, her mind kept going back to that moment when Meg had asked Ward if their family could include her. The way Ward had looked at her, with something that appeared very close to longing, had thrown her, had made her wonder if perhaps there was a future for them after all.
Of course it could all just be wishful thinking on her part. How could she know for sure?
She still didn’t have any answers when she finally finished the dress. But as she stood back to admire her work, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction at what she’d accomplished. It had been quite a while since she’d been able to let her creative instincts have free rein this way.
Remembering another promise she’d made to Meg, Hazel quickly cut and stitched a simple doll-sized shift in a matching fabric for Chessie.
Finally satisfied with her work, Hazel carefully put both the dresses away and prepared for bed. As she turned out the light and slid under the covers, she thought about all the changes that had happened in her life these past few days.
Heavenly Father, thank You for the good things You’ve brought to me this day. Meg is a treasure and I pray You will help me to do my part to see that things work out for both her and Ward’s good.
The renewed joy in employing the talents You gifted me with has been a true blessing. Having the opportunity to create dresses for Meg as well as a lovely gown for Tensy, both of whom show such gratitude, has made me feel useful and creative again. Help me to remember that no matter my circumstances, You have me tight in the palm of Your hand.
Hazel paused a moment, then added a request to her prayers.
And please, help me to understand what Your intentions are for my relationship with Ward and to find peace with that, whatever it may be.
Was it presumptuous of her to think God actually had plans, one way or the other, for her relationship with Ward?
She decided not. After all, the Scriptures encouraged you to ask for the desires of your heart and to pray without ceasing. Such a God would most definitely concern Himself with all aspects of His people’s lives.
Satisfied with her logic, Hazel rolled onto her side and fell asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Despite her late night, Hazel was up bright and early the next morning. In fact, she had her shop door open before Ward had a chance to knock. “Good morning! Isn’t it a perfect day for a picnic?”
Meg skipped inside but Ward remained on the sidewalk.
“I’m going to leave you ladies here to get all gussied up,” he said with a smile.
Hazel rolled her eyes at the phrase gussied up. “We won’t be long,” she said.
He waved a hand. “Take your time. You can just stop by my office when you’re ready.” With a touch to the brim of his hat, he turned and headed toward his office.
Taking Meg’s hand, she led the little girl to the stairs. “I hope you and Chessie like your new dresses. I think they turned out quite well.”
She had laid the dress out on the back of her sofa and when Meg saw it her eyes widened. “This is for me? I never had anything so boo’tiful before.”
“A pretty girl like you should have pretty things. And look, here’s one for Chessie.”
Meg’s smile broadened and she held up her doll. “Look at your pretty new dress, Chessie. And it matches mine.”
Hazel helped the little girl change clothes and then they dressed Chessie as well.
She gave Meg one of her music boxes to wind up while she brushed the child’s unruly tresses until they shone. Rather than putting it back up in pigtails, Hazel let it fall loose and added a simple headband of ribbon that was a daintier match for the one at her waist. In many ways, Meg would be on display today when she walked into the church. And Hazel wanted to do everything she could to make certain the child looked every bit as sweet on the outside as she was on the inside.
Was this what it f
elt like to be a mother, this caring and worry and pride all rolled together? This aching urge to protect and defend her child and to give her every opportunity to shine?
Shaking off those thoughts, Hazel led Meg to a cheval glass. “See how pretty you look.”
Meg preened this way and that, holding her skirt out to show it to best advantage. Then she turned to Hazel. “Do you think Sheriff Gleason will like it?”
“I’m sure he will.” Ward had better bend over backward to tell Meg how nice she looked or he’d get what for from her.
She reached for Meg’s hand. “Shall we go find out?”
When they stepped inside the sheriff’s office a few minutes later, Ward looked up, then leaned back in his chair and let out a low whistle. “Well, now, Half-pint, just look at you. Aren’t you just the prettiest flower in the whole garden?”
Hazel relaxed. She should have known that he would say the right things.
Meg twirled around. “Miss Hazel made this just for me.”
“Miss Hazel certainly has a wagonload of talent with a needle. And is Chessie wearing a new dress too?”
The little girl was delighted that he’d noticed her doll and Hazel had to admit to being impressed herself. Perhaps she didn’t give the prosaic lawman enough credit.
“And doesn’t Miss Hazel look pretty too?” Meg added unexpectedly.
Ward turned to Hazel with an assessing look and let his gaze roam slowly from her head to her toes. Hazel grew warm under his perusal but was unable to think of anything to say to diffuse the unexpected tension.
Then he gave a warm, languid smile. “That she does. Why, when I walk down the street with the two prettiest gals in town, every man who sees us is going to wish he was me.”
Meg giggled.
Hazel knew just how the child felt. Ward could be quite the charmer when he set his mind to it. And while she knew he was just including her because of Meg’s prompting, it still felt nice to be on the receiving end of his compliments.
When they walked into church, Hazel found herself reluctant to leave them to take her place at the front with the choir. For just a heartbeat she considered excusing herself to sit with Ward and Meg. But with Verity and Nate Cooper out of town, the choir needed everyone else to be there.
A Tailor-Made Husband Page 7
