Joy seemed genuinely pleased with the gift Meg gave her and the two girls had already found a blue jay feather and a curiously shaped rock to store inside it.
Hazel watched the interactions between Nate and Verity with a wistfulness she couldn’t control. The looks they exchanged, the easy touches and solicitous mannerisms, the way they seemed to communicate without saying a word—it all spoke of the kind of love Hazel longed to have in her own life.
True to his word, Ward showed up in time to join them for lunch and stayed for about an hour. Hazel could tell, though, that beneath his easy manner, he was distracted and ready to return to town.
Shortly after he left, they packed up the hamper and followed suit. Joy invited Meg to come over to her place to play and with Verity’s permission, Hazel gave the little girl the go-ahead. She wanted some quiet time to think anyway. Now that the Coopers were back in town and Meg’s situation was more or less decided, it was time for her to make some decisions of her own.
Hazel stepped into the shop and opened the blinds, letting the sunlight pour in like water from a fall. She would just step upstairs for a moment and then—
Hazel stopped in her tracks, not quite absorbing what she was seeing.
It was her wedding dress.
Or what was left of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hazel all but ran to Ward’s office. She wasn’t aware of her surroundings, of whether the streets and sidewalks were teeming or deserted. All she could think about was getting to Ward, of drawing on the comfort she knew he would offer.
She prayed all the way there, the same prayer, over and over.
Please, God, let him be in his office.
It seemed to take an eternity to cross the block and a half between her shop and the sheriff’s office. When she finally arrived, she shoved open the door and all but stumbled inside.
He was here! She paused, unable to speak for a heartbeat. But Ward was already up and crossing the room, a look of concerned alarm on his face.
“Hazel, what’s wrong? What happened?” He took hold of her shoulders, his grip warm, protective, comforting.
For the first time since she’d found that ugly surprise in her shop, she took a deep breath and placed her palms against his chest, feeling the strong pounding of his heart through the fabric of his shirt. She stared into his eyes, drawing on his strength to steady herself. “Everything’s going to be all right now.”
* * *
Something was very wrong. Hazel wasn’t making a lot of sense and she appeared to be in some kind of shock. She was trembling and there was something wounded and vulnerable shadowing her expression. Every protective instinct inside him had roared to life and was thrashing inside him, ready to act. He was torn between wanting to storm off and slay whatever dragons she’d had to face down and the ache to pull her to him, to stroke her hair and comfort her. But first he needed to find out what had happened. If anyone had tried to hurt her—
He did his best to rein in his growing alarm, to keep calm so he could get through to her. “Hazel, honey, you need to tell me what’s happened.”
She seemed to finally snap out of the haze she’d been engulfed in since she’d burst into his office. The color slowly returned to her cheeks and she lowered her hands, denying his chest the warmth of her touch. “Someone broke into my shop while we were at the picnic.”
It was as if someone had slammed a fist to his gut and he felt his hands reflexively tighten their hold on her shoulders. No wonder she seemed so rattled. “Are you all right? And where’s Meg?”
“We’re both fine. Meg went straight to the Coopers’ when we returned from the picnic so she doesn’t even know about this yet. Nobody does. I came straight here as soon as I realized.”
He released his grip on her shoulders and led her to a chair. “That was the right thing to do.” He held her arm as she settled into the chair, then straightened. “Wait here just a minute.”
He moved to the back room where he had a pot of coffee he’d just brewed up shortly before she arrived. He poured her up a cup while he took a moment to compose himself. It had happened again. Right under his nose.
And to Hazel.
He grabbed the back of a nearby chair and bowed his head. What if she’d walked in on them? What could have happened made his knees weak.
He couldn’t let this continue.
Pulling himself together, he straightened and added the sugar he knew she liked with her coffee, then carried the cup back to his office.
“Here, drink this,” he said, handing it to her.
With a soft thank-you, she accepted the cup with hands that were almost steady.
She took a sip and then smiled up at him. “I’m sorry to act like a frightened schoolgirl over this. I know I’m not in any physical danger, I just—”
Ward touched her shoulder, halting her apology. “You’ve nothing to apologize for.” He found maintaining physical contact was something he needed right now as much as she did. “I assume you didn’t see anyone.”
She shook her head. “Whoever did this was long gone when I got there. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He figured that was the one thing that had gone right. “So tell me what you did see.”
“It was my wedding dress—someone destroyed it beyond repair.”
Ward clinched his jaw in an effort to keep from growling. No wonder she’d been so upset. Attacking her wedding dress gave this incident a particularly personal, targeted feel.
He gave her shoulder one more squeeze. “You stay here and finish your coffee. I’m going to go down to your shop and look around.” He’d check things out and then get rid of the dress so she didn’t have to look at it again.
But Hazel, predictably, had other ideas. She stood and set the cup on his desk. “I’m going with you.”
One look at the set of her mouth and he knew it was useless to argue. With a nod, he offered her his arm.
They didn’t speak on the walk to her shop. The closer they got, the more tense Hazel became. He should have insisted she stay in his office, but it was too late for that now.
When they stepped inside, his eyes went immediately to the vandalized dress and again he had to smother a growl. No wonder she’d been shaken.
The skirt was shredded so thoroughly it now seemed more a ragged fringe than fabric. The vandal had also taken a bottle of ink from her desk and splashed it in ugly splotches across the bodice and sleeves. The rows of lace that she had applied to the collar, cuffs and bodice had been ripped away and now hung like limp bunting.
Ward slid an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry all your work was ruined. I know you put a lot of time and effort into it.”
She shrugged. “It’s not as if I was going to really use it as a wedding dress.”
But he could tell Hazel wasn’t as calm as she pretended. To find her place the object of this criminal’s attacks two days in a row had taken its toll on even her ability to bounce back.
“Whoever’s doing this, he’s getting bolder.” Ward stared assessingly at the dress. “This destruction took time. I’m beginning to believe the mayor and townsfolk are right. I’m not the right person for this job.”
That seemed to restore some of Hazel’s spirit. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She pulled away to better face him. “Of course you’re the right person. I defy anyone else here in town to do a better job.”
He ignored her comment and glanced around the shop. “I see they left all the hats alone as well as your bolts of fabric. Do you have any other garments you’re working on?”
“Tensy’s dress!” Hazel’s hand flew to her mouth as she raced for the workroom. “Please let it be untouched,” she said as she threw open the door.
Then he heard her quick sigh of relief as he stepped up behind her.
Sure enough, the gown she had stored there looked untouched. “So either they didn’t see this dress or they only wanted to wreak havoc on the other one,” Ward said.
“If they had to pick one, I’m glad they chose mine. It represented a lie anyway.”
He let her comment go, changing the subject slightly. “Was anything else besides your dress damaged or taken?”
Hazel looked around. “Not anything obvious. But I haven’t really looked closely yet.”
She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And looking on the bright side, having to start over on the dress gives us an excuse to push the wedding date back even further. If we need one.”
He didn’t return her smile. “I refuse to let you make light of this. Whether you intended to wear it or not, you put a lot of time and effort, and probably expense as well, into that dress. And someone just destroyed it.”
Her expression softened and she touched his arm. “Thank you.”
The tremble of her lip and vulnerable moistness of her eyes was too much for him. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and felt a sense of triumph when she leaned her head against his chest. He stroked her hair, whispering soothing nothings while thinking how very good, how very right this felt.
Yet also knowing that it was very wrong. Because he could never be the man she needed and it wasn’t right to let her think he could.
On that thought, he finally released his hold and straightened.
Her gaze sought his and he saw the question there. Best to leave it unanswered.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded and stepped back.
“Good.” He fisted his hands at his sides to keep them from reaching for her again. “I’m going to look around outside. If you’re up to it, why don’t you take a quick look around inside and make sure nothing is missing?”
“Of course.”
With a smile and a nod, he forced himself to turn and walk away.
* * *
As Hazel watched Ward walk away, she hugged herself, trying to hold captive that warmth and comfort she’d enjoyed in his arms. It had felt so achingly sweet to be held by him that way, to feel wanted and cherished and safe. As if nothing, or no one, could harm her as long as she had him by her side.
He’d broken that heartwarming contact much too soon. And it was obvious something about it had shaken him up. But could it be the first step to something deeper, more lasting?
She moved from the workroom to the shop floor and cringed again at the sight of the maliciously destroyed dress. But somehow it wasn’t so frightening now. Now that she’d had time to absorb the shock and draw comfort from Ward, she was more angry than sick over what had happened. It was just a dress, after all, and she hadn’t even liked it. She could always make another one. And this time she’d make one she would be proud to wear.
Tilting her chin at a determined angle, Hazel rolled up her sleeves and went to work cleaning up the shredded fabric that seemed to be everywhere. She didn’t want there to be any sign of this ugliness when Meg returned. With any luck, the little girl wouldn’t even notice the dress was missing.
Ward returned from the back of the shop just as she was finishing up.
“It looks as if the intruder came in through the window near your back entrance,” he said. “It was wide open.”
Hazel frowned. “But that window is always latched.”
“Are you sure you didn’t leave it unlocked today by mistake?”
Hazel started second-guessing herself. Perhaps the latch hadn’t been closed properly—it did stick sometimes.
“Maybe I should hire someone to keep an eye on your place.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know I overreacted earlier but it’s obvious that, whoever is doing this, he doesn’t intend to harm anyone.”
“At least not yet.”
She raised a brow at the implication. Then crossed her arms. “You haven’t set guards at anyone else’s place.”
“This isn’t anyone else’s place.”
Before she could explore that interesting declaration in more depth, he continued. “I intend to discourage whoever is doing this from paying you a third visit.”
Sometimes she could almost believe he really did have warm feelings for her.
He cleared his throat. “After all, Meg is still my responsibility, even if she’s staying with you.”
Almost.
* * *
Ward was shaken by the attack on Hazel’s dress shop more than he cared to admit. And it wasn’t just because of his personal relationship with the occupants. Lately the perpetrator had gone from being mischievous and impudent to outright vindictive and destructive. First with the mayor’s office, and now this. The destruction of Hazel’s wedding gown had not only been calculatedly deliberate but particularly thorough and vicious.
Why the change? Was this a sign that the perpetrator was getting bolder? Or was it specifically targeted against Hazel? And if it was targeted at Hazel, was it actually someone trying to get to him through his apparent bride-to-be?
Whatever the case, and whatever Hazel’s feelings on that score, he planned to keep an extra-close eye on her place in the coming days.
And he’d have a word with Nate as well. Not only was the man next door, but he was sharp and knew how to handle himself if it came to that.
And Eunice was right. Now that it was personal, he’d be redoubling his efforts to find this man and put an end to this havoc he was causing.
* * *
Deciding not to give the criminal the satisfaction of knowing he’d upset her, Hazel decided not to say anything to anyone about what had happened to her dress. Except for Verity, of course. And while her friend was outraged on her behalf, she honored Hazel’s request not to discuss it, especially not in front of Meg.
By the next day, Hazel was tired of being reminded of the attacks on her shop every time she stepped outside and saw those paint smears on the sidewalk. Something had to be done.
Making up her mind, she turned to Meg. “Come on, we’re going to the mercantile.”
An hour later, she had the sidewalk in front of her place cordoned off and four large cans of paint and several paintbrushes arranged in a row in front of her shop window. Letting Verity know what she had in mind, she tied large aprons around Meg and Joy, then handed each of them a paintbrush. “All right, girls, your job this morning is to make this sidewalk beautiful. Paint whatever you like.”
Verity stood beside her. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.”
The activity drew lots of curious glances but for the most part folks looked on with indulgent smiles. In no time at all the sidewalk was covered with childish but colorful images of flowers, suns, rainbows, stick figures and rather indistinguishable animals.
“Do you like it?” Meg asked.
“I love it. It makes me feel happy.”
“Can we do this in front of our place, Momma?” Joy asked.
Verity rolled her eyes Hazel’s way. “Look what you started.” Then she turned to her daughter. “Not today, darling.”
Hazel smiled, then something past Verity’s shoulder caught her attention. The woman striding their way, with her fiery red hair, command-the-room presence and unique style looked very much like—
“Aunt Opal!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hazel rushed across the half block that separated them and embraced her aunt. “How wonderful to see you.”
“And you as well, my dear.” Her aunt dropped the valise she was carrying and gave Hazel a quick peck on her cheek as she returned the hug.
Hazel released her aunt and took her hands instead. “I have to ask, what brings you all this way? Is everything all right?”
“Everything back home is just fine. As for what brings me here, it was an announcement in your delightful newspaper about upcoming nuptials.”
Hazel’s stomach did a guilty flip as she reached down to retrieve her aunt’s bag. “You got hold of a copy of The Turnabout Gazette?”
“Of course.” Her aunt gave an imperious wave. “I’m a subscriber. How else am I to keep up with the things affecting my favorite niece?” She tapped Hazel’s arm as if she were a recalcitrant schoolgirl. “Now, about this engagement? Why did I have to find out about it by reading a newspaper? Surely you intended to invite me?”
Hazel’s mind scrambled frantically for a response. What could she say to that? There was no way she would lie to her aunt but she couldn’t reveal the whole story standing out here where anyone might overhear.
Fortunately, they had reached her shop by then and she bought time by introducing her aunt to Verity.
Then Aunt Opal examined the two little girls and their artwork. She clasped her hands in obvious approval. “What’s this? A pair of talented budding artists having their first art exhibition, I presume.”
“We’re making pretty pictures to decorate for Miss Hazel,” Meg explained.
“So I see.”
“Would you like to help?” Joy asked.
Aunt Opal held up a hand. “Thank you, but I think you two girls have it well in hand.”
“Aunt Opal, allow me to introduce the two artists to you. The one currently dipping her brush in the blue paint is Joy, Verity’s daughter. And the other little painter is Meg, who is currently living with me.”
Her aunt cut her a surprised look at that, then turned back to the girls. “I’m very pleased to meet you young ladies. You may call me Aunt Opal.”
Verity gave Hazel a smile. “I’m sure your aunt would like a place to freshen up and perhaps a nice cup of tea after her long trip. Why don’t you take her upstairs where she can be more comfortable? I’ll take Meg and Joy over to my place after we close up these paint cans and get them cleaned up.”
A Tailor-Made Husband Page 19
