Читать книгу A Tailor-Made Husband - Winnie Griggs - Страница 12

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But she could tell that he’d withdrawn into himself.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 such 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.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Was she being deliberately obtuse? “For one thing, my work is not the sort where I have regular hours or that allows me to have a child tagging along. For another, I’m hardly the kind of caretaker a four-year-old needs.”

Hazel’s expression regained some of that familiar softness as she met his gaze again. “She could certainly do a lot worse.”

Her answer surprised him given what had happened to Bethany. But Hazel had always been a look-on-the-bright-side kind of person.

“You seemed to have managed all right last night,” she added, as if that settled matters.

“I wasn’t on my own. Reverend Mills, the preacher over at Kittering, offered us a room at his place for the night and Mrs. Mills took care of Meg.”

Hazel nodded slowly, nibbling on her lower lip as if trying to puzzle something out. What was going on in that rather unorthodox mind of hers?

Then she seemed to come to a decision. “If it’ll help you, I’ll be glad to watch Meg for a few weeks, but first there’s something you need to know.”

Relieved that he’d gotten a commitment of sorts from her, Ward smiled. A few weeks should be sufficient time for him to figure things out with Meg. But why had she put a time limit on it? Had she started some new project while he was away—it seemed Hazel always had a project or cause to champion.

He spread his hands, inviting her to continue, confident it was something he could deal with.

She lifted her chin, giving him an almost defiant look. Why was she being so melodramatic? Surely, whatever it was wasn’t so—

“I’m leaving Turnabout in a few weeks and moving to New York,” she finally blurted.