by Delia Parr
“I got troubles enough bein’ bothered with these two critters and what they done without carin’ why they got free.”
Emma cringed. “Unfortunately, Mr. Fellows, I had three goats, not two, and there’s a very good possibility that the other one escaped, as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns up in your garden, since it probably isn’t far from those two you’re holding.”
“Will you be payin’ up for the damage they done or not? ’Cause if you’re not, I gotta see about gettin’ myself a different lawyer, ’cause I sure can’t use this one. Not if he’s your lawyer, too.”
When Zachary coughed, Emma could see he was covering up a laugh or two. “You’re right, Mr. Fellows. I couldn’t represent your interests as well as Widow Garrett’s, but I should think we could resolve the entire matter without wasting time on a lawsuit. Would you agree?” he asked, looking directly at Emma.
“Absolutely. I’ll be only too happy to cover your losses, Mr. Fellows. Did you have a sum in mind?”
“Can’t say I had the time to consider it yet,” he admitted, “but if you’ll pardon me sayin’ so, ma’am, you shouldn’t be keepin’ goats if you can’t take good care of ’em.”
Emma grinned. “No, I shouldn’t, but I think we might be able to solve that problem, too. If you wouldn’t mind bringing the goats around to the other side of the house, there’s a walled patio that should keep them from running away again while we discuss the matter. Warren, would you check to see if the third goat is missing or not?”
Warren let go of her arm. “As soon as I help Mr. Fellows here get these two critters on the patio, I’ll get changed and take a look, but I have a feeling it’s long gone. We’ll meet you in the kitchen so you can settle on a sum that he’ll find satisfactory.”
Mr. Fellows shook his head. “I’m not dressed to come inside no fancy place like yours.”
“Hill House isn’t all that fancy,” Emma argued, anxious to settle the issue as quickly as possible. “I’d really like you to be able to go home knowing all the problems I’ve caused you today are resolved,” she insisted, hopeful this man might also go home as the new owner of three nanny goats.
While Warren led Mr. Fellows and the two adventurous goats away, Emma kept her focus on Zachary. “W-would you like to come in, as well?” she asked.
“I have another client waiting,” he offered stiffly.
“Perhaps later.”
His gaze softened. “Not today or tomorrow, I’m afraid. I’ve got too many appointments scheduled, but . . . soon,” he said, then walked away.
Her heart ached with hope.
29
THAT SAME DAY AFTER DINNER, Emma kept her promise to let Deborah pick out a new dolly for herself. Along with Anna, who had asked to accompany them, Emma held her granddaughter’s hand. In her other hand, Deborah held tight to her one and only dolly. They approached one of the newest shops in Candlewood, Mrs. Zane’s Trinkets and Treasures, which was located almost directly across from the bank.
Teddy and Sally decided to tag along with their father to search for the missing third goat with Mr. Fellows, the proud new owner of all three nanny goats. Fortunately, he and Emma had reached a settlement fair to both of them, which included a bit of cash and all of the materials Benjamin and Mark had bought to construct a pen for the nanny goats.
Anna paused for half a step. “Is that Grams and Aunt Frances going into the bank?”
Emma turned and looked across the street, but only caught a flash of skirts before the door closed. “I couldn’t tell, but it could have been. Mother Garrett mentioned she had an errand or two before we left her at the Glenns’,” she replied. Unfortunately, she had been too busy with Mr. Fellows to go into town earlier with her mother-in-law, but she remained hopeful Mother Garrett had forgotten all about visiting Zachary to find out why he had not been coming for meals at Hill House. She also had no idea why her mother-in-law would have an errand inside a bank where she had no account, but she assumed one of Aunt Frances’ sons might have set up an account for their mother there.
Emma led Deborah into the shop, with Anna following right behind them. Before the sound of the bell over the door had softened to all but an echo, Emma glanced at her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter and smiled. Judging by their awed expressions, they were just as enthralled as she was.
The shop itself was very narrow, no more than ten or twelve feet wide but ran perhaps twice as deep, and a pink-and-blue-striped curtain hung in a doorway at the far end of the shop. A half wall divided the space into two tiny rooms that ran from front to back, giving them all a view of both rooms. There were no display cases or counters; instead, floor-to-ceiling shelves held the most amazing array of toys for children that Emma had ever seen.
In this first room, all the toys on the shelves appeared to be hand-carved from wood or shaped from thin sheets of tin, and the air was heavy with the scent of freshly hewn wood. Puzzles filled one shelf along the wall to her left. Ranging from small to grand, Noah’s arks, filled with pairs of animals of every description, sat on another shelf, just below a collection of Jacob’s ladders, a series of wooden blocks held together with colorful ribbons. To her right, miniatures of packet boats and horse-drawn wagons and carts on several shelves vied for attention, along with a shelf filled with finger tops and whipping tops. Yet another shelf held marionettes and puppets, all waiting for a child to bring them to life.
Deborah, however, held tight to her dolly and tugged Emma toward the second room, where the dolls were on display, with Anna following right behind.
Dolls of every size lined the shelves here. On the upper shelves, far beyond the reach of younger children, imported china dolls with glass eyes in various shades of blue were dressed in velvets and chiffon, just like the dolls in Deborah’s collection. Below them were shelves filled with dolls just a bit less fragile—dolls with faces made of wax or papier-mâché. Fabric dolls dressed in calico and chintz, their features stitched or drawn by hand, sat on the lower shelves.
Together, they created a colorful display of dolls just waiting to be chosen and taken into a little girl’s arms to be loved.
“Be careful not to touch anything,” Anna cautioned her daughter.
“I’ll be good,” Deborah replied and looked up at Emma. “Look at all the dolls, Little Grams! Maybe my dollies found their way here!” she exclaimed before letting go of Emma’s hand to wander closer to the dolls.
Emma caught her breath and held it as she turned to Anna. She had not had the opportunity to discuss her conversation with Deborah about where her lost dolls had gone with Anna yet, and she was not sure if Anna would approve or not.
Anna moistened her lips. “Deborah told me what you thought might have happened to her dollies. Thank you. We weren’t certain what to tell her . . . until she’s old enough to understand,” she whispered as Deborah began to wander from shelf to shelf, as oblivious to the presence of adults as the shopkeeper apparently was unaware there were patrons in the shop.
Relieved, Emma let out a long breath. “A new dolly should help for now,” she murmured.
Blinking back tears, Anna let out a sigh. “You’ve done so much for us already by allowing us to stay at Hill House indefinitely. Warren is hoping to find a position here in Candlewood, but we’re not certain how long that will take or how long we’ll have to depend on your help. If you’d let me, I’m more than willing to take over some of your responsibilities at Hill House so you’d have more time for yourself.”
Emma smiled. “Thank you. I have guests scheduled to arrive in a matter of weeks, and I could surely use your help at Hill House then,” she replied.
“None of my dollies are here,” Deborah announced sadly, interrupting Emma and her daughter-in-law.
“I’m sure you’ll find a new dolly to love,” Emma assured her.
“Good morning, ladies. I’m Mrs. Zane. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I’m so pleased you decided to stop and visit today.”
Emm
a looked over to see the shopkeeper, who had emerged from behind the curtain. To her surprise, the woman was young, about the same age as her sons. Her long dark hair was tied with a ribbon and fell in waves across one of her shoulders as she bent down to speak to Deborah. “I see you brought your dolly with you.”
Deborah nodded.
“Does she have a name?”
Another nod. “Her name is Jenny. She’s lonely. She needs a friend.”
The shopkeeper smiled. “We have lots of dollies here who would like to be her friend. Why don’t you look around and when you see one you like, I’ll take her off the shelf for you to look at,” she suggested before standing up again.
“We haven’t met yet, have we?” Mrs. Zane asked.
“No, we haven’t. I’m Widow Garrett, this is my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Garrett, and that’s Deborah.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you.”
“You have a stunning display of toys,” Anna offered.
“Thank you. My husband carves the wooden toys on display in the other room. Except for a few of the dolls imported from France and Germany that arrive fully dressed, I sew all of the clothes for the other dolls myself. Was there a particular doll you’d like me to steer little Deborah toward?” she whispered.
“No, she’s free to choose whatever doll she favors,” Emma replied.
“Can I see that one?” Deborah asked.
Much to Emma’s surprise, her granddaughter was pointing to a fabric doll on the bottom shelf that had a single blond braid and big blue eyes. The doll was dressed in a dark brown gown topped with a crisp muslin apron and wore a matching bonnet.
Once Mrs. Zane handed the doll to Deborah, the little girl tucked it in her arm. “Isn’t she pretty, Mama?”
Anna smiled. “Yes, she is. I think she’ll be a fine friend for Jenny.”
“Are you sure that’s the one you want?” Emma asked.
Deborah grinned. “She’s the prettiest dolly here. She looks just like you, Little Grams.”
Emma felt that tug on her heartstrings straight to the tips of her toes.
* * *
En route home, when they reached Coulter Lane, Emma could not resist taking a glimpse down the narrow street toward Zachary’s home. When she did, she found Wryn heading straight toward her, although she was still a square away.
“Isn’t that Wryn?” Anna asked.
“I believe it is,” Emma said, assuming Wryn had just left Zachary’s home.
“I’m sure you’d like to speak with her, since she wasn’t home this morning when Mother Garrett went into town to see her. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take Deborah home while you do.”
“That might be best,” Emma replied, anxious to find out what Wryn was up to now. She planted a kiss on Deborah’s cheek. “Take good care of your dolly until I get home.”
“I will,” Deborah promised before her mother hurried her back to Hill House.
Wryn held up her hand as she approached Emma. “Don’t get all huffy and dithered up. Aunt Frances told me Mother Garrett had come to check up on me today, but she also told me she’d told her she’d sent me out on some errands. I hope your mother-in-law told you that.”
“Yes, she did, although she said Aunt Frances was fairly vague about what those errands were.”
“If you must know, I returned everything I bought that you asked me to take back, except for the reticule. I still intend to work that off.”
“I see,” Emma murmured, pleased that Wryn had taken it upon herself to return everything without being reminded. Still, she was exceedingly curious about what errand Wryn might have had at Zachary’s. “Is that what you were doing just now at Mr. Breckenwith’s? Running an errand?”
“No. When Aunt Frances went out with Mother Garrett a little while ago, she told me I could have some time to myself, which I needed because I had an appointment with my lawyer,” Wryn said.
“He’s your lawyer now?” Emma blurted, annoyed that he had failed to mention that Wryn was the particular client he was meeting with this afternoon.
“Don’t find blame with the man for not telling you. I told him not to tell you, and he has to do whatever I say because I’m his client and you don’t have a thing to say about it,” she replied boldly.
Emma cast a withering look in Wryn’s direction.
Wryn rolled her eyes and sighed. “I mean, please don’t be upset with Mr. Breckenwith. He couldn’t tell you because I asked him not to say anything, and he was bound to do what I wanted. Does that sound better?”
“I would have preferred to hear you say it that politely the first time,” Emma said. “Are you heading back to the Glenns’ now?”
Wryn shrugged and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Probably. What . . . what would you say if I told you that I wanted to live somewhere else? Would you let me, even if I hadn’t worked off what I owe you yet?”
Caught by surprise, Emma could only assume that Wryn meant she wanted to go home to live with her mother if they could reconcile quickly and that Zachary was making efforts on her behalf to do that. “Whether or not you’ve finished working off what you owe me wouldn’t matter. You’d be free to go home, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if that takes longer than you’d like.”
Wryn shrugged. “I’ve been disappointed before. Aren’t you going to try to get me to tell you why I’ve hired Mr. Breckenwith to be my lawyer?”
Emma shook her head. “No. Whatever business you have with him is none of my concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work waiting for me back at Hill House. I’ll see you at supper.”
“I won’t be coming home for supper. Aunt Frances asked me to stay later today to fix supper for her and Reverend Glenn, but I’ll walk Mother Garrett home so no one has to come to town to fetch her,” Wryn said and ran off before Emma could argue the matter.
Convinced Wryn was taking only one step back for every two steps she took forward these days, Emma turned to take one last look down Coulter Lane. Before her common sense failed, if not her convictions, she turned around again to prevent herself from marching straight to Zachary’s home and interrupting him in order to get the answer she so desperately wanted from him.
Instead, since she was now alone, she took advantage of this unexpected opportunity to pursue the matter concerning Miss Burns and changed directions completely. She reached the courthouse fairly quickly but left only minutes later. The late Gerald Burns’ will had been recorded, by custom, in Bounty, the county seat, and she would need to go there to read it.
By the time she reached the end of Main Street, she was almost as tired as the plump, middle-aged woman with the reddest hair she had ever seen who was struggling her way up the steep hill just ahead of her. The woman, who waddled from side to side, was carrying a basket in each hand.
After mustering up the last of her strength, she hurried to catch up with her. “May I help you?”
“I’d . . . surely . . . appreciate . . . it,” the woman managed as she handed her baskets to Emma and tried to catch her breath. “I’m afraid I could never live all the way up there if I had to climb this hill every day.”
Emma chuckled. “It’s a bit of a challenge for me today, too. My name is Widow Garrett, and I live at Hill House at the top of this very steep hill.”
“Then I’m doubly blessed you came along when you did because I was bringing those baskets to you. I’m Mrs. Fellows,” she said, pointing to the baskets Emma was holding now. “It’s not much, just a couple of loaves of sweet bread to thank you for being so generous to Amos and me.”
“I thought I smelled something delicious, but there’s no thanks necessary,” Emma insisted. “If anything, I’m very grateful that your husband was willing to take all three of those goats. I’m sorry about your garden,” she added.
The woman chuckled. “Goats don’t eat the roots, so that garden will still grow some. It’s just Amos and me now. We’ll find a way to make do until it does. I do thank you for saving
me some steps, though.”
“Are you sure I can’t offer you a cup of tea before you go back home?”
She chuckled again. “Not if it means I have to climb the rest of that hill. But I shouldn’t dally anyway. I told Amos I was just going to drop this off and come right back home to mend his shirt before he heads out to look for work again. He hasn’t found much more than a few days’ labor since the match factory burned to the ground, and I’m afraid we’ll have to think about leaving Candlewood if he doesn’t find something soon.”
“I understand,” Emma murmured. “If you’d like to wait here, I can take the bread home and bring the baskets right back to you so you can take them home.”
Mrs. Fellows waved off Emma’s suggestion. “There’s no rush for that, but I wouldn’t mind if you’d leave them at Mr. Breckenwith’s for me. I have to stop back there the day after tomorrow to get the baskets I left there with some goodies for him. I have the opportunity to deliver some pies to the confectionery, but you can’t tell anyone. Mrs. Turner doesn’t want anyone to know she didn’t make them herself, and me and Amos need what little I can make.”
Emma smiled. “I won’t tell a soul, and I’ll make sure the baskets are at Mr. Breckenwith’s, too.”
“If he’s not home when you get there, just leave the baskets on the bench in that garden behind his kitchen. Don’t tell him I told you so, but that garden of his looks even worse than mine did after the goats had their fill of it,” she noted with a grin.
Emma peeked inside the baskets and saw two lusciously dark loaves of bread. With her mouth watering, she practically ran the rest of the way home. There was only one way to completely salvage this curious day, and she had every intention of doing so by devouring two very thick slices of bread after slathering them with butter.
