Читать книгу The Holiday Courtship - Winnie Griggs - Страница 10

Chapter Two

When they reached the Blue Bottle, Hank quickly stepped forward to open the door.

Miss Whitman hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said she could do enough talking for all of them.

But he noticed Alex seemed more relaxed now, which meant Chloe’s tension should ease as well. He’d noticed she was taking many of her cues from her brother when she couldn’t tell what was going on around her.

His attention shifted back to the schoolteacher. His coat should have looked ridiculously large on her, but for some reason it didn’t.

In fact, she looked quite nice—in an impish kind of way.

Hank pulled himself up at that thought. The straitlaced schoolteacher, impish? What a strange notion—he must be more tired than he’d thought.

He stepped inside with them for a moment, just to make certain they would be okay here while he was gone.

Miss Whitman started to shrug out of his jacket and he moved forward to help her. When she smiled up at him, he found himself wondering why he’d never really noticed her before. Not that he’d been looking for a wife before current circumstances had made it a necessity.

Then she turned to Chloe with an apologetic purse of her lips, giving him the nudge he needed to step back.

“I just realized it’s probably not a good idea to bring a cat into a sweet shop.” She glanced back his way. “Perhaps you should take Smudge with you.”

He swallowed a retort. She was undoubtedly right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Chloe won’t let him out of her sight.”

“I’m sure Smudge provides her with a measure of comfort. But she must learn that she’ll be okay without him for short periods of time.”

The schoolteacher planted herself squarely in front of his niece and stood silently until Chloe met her gaze.

Miss Whitman touched Smudge lightly on the head, then held out her arms, her meaning obvious.

Chloe replied by hugging Smudge tighter against her chest and lifting her chin defiantly.

But Miss Whitman didn’t drop her hands or her gaze, and Chloe finally handed over her pet. The girl’s shoulders slumped, and she looked as if she’d just lost her best friend, but Miss Whitman patted her arm and gave her an approving smile.

Chloe turned away.

He thought he heard Miss Whitman sigh as she turned and held the cat out to him. “Here you go. Make sure he doesn’t get away from you since he’s not familiar with the town yet.”

Great—now he was responsible for the well-being of not just the children, but this creature as well.

His hesitation was duly noted. Her eyes turned hard without her smile ever leaving her face as she continued to wait for him to take the animal from her.

Hank reluctantly held out his hands and accepted the gray feline, who looked snootily down his nose at him and sneezed. Great—even the kids’ pet didn’t like him.

After telling Miss Whitman to let Eve know he’d settle the bill when he returned, he headed out the door.

Feeling ridiculous carrying a cat through town, Hank set a brisk pace. But his thoughts remained on the kids.

He had to get through the next few days without his aunt’s help, and that meant he probably wouldn’t be able to spend much time at the sawmill. He trusted Simon Tucker to do a good job in his absence, but the business was his, not Simon’s. And he’d already been away too long.

If only he’d been more successful convincing Willa Booth to return with him. Willa, a good friend of his sister, had cared for the children during the time it had taken him to get from Turnabout to Elgin Springs.

As soon as he’d realized his best recourse was to find a woman to marry, someone to serve as a mother to the children, he’d thought of Miss Booth. The children already knew and liked her. She was not only single, but also seemed to have a fondness for children. The fact that she was a few years older than him hadn’t particularly bothered him—in fact, it had the advantage of assuring him she was going into this with her eyes wide-open and not holding out any romantic aspirations.

He’d discussed the situation with her in a businesslike manner, explaining that he could offer a comfortable home that she could run as she pleased and a life where she would be respected and her needs cared for. And at first she’d agreed to his proposal. Having a wife to accompany them back to Turnabout would have made everything so much easier.

But at the last minute she’d backed out, and he’d had to leave her behind.

Hank spent most of the train ride back to Turnabout trying to compile a list of acceptable candidates. One by one, he’d considered every unmarried lady in Turnabout he could remember. And he’d mentally rejected most of them for one reason or another. They’d been too old or too young, too slow or too silly, too talkative or too timid. By the time the train had arrived in Turnabout, his list had grown pitiably short. He’d figured—hoped—there were other marriageable ladies out there, though.

Take the schoolteacher, for instance. He hadn’t really considered Miss Whitman, mainly because she wasn’t someone he’d had much contact with.

But he was definitely considering her now.

In fact, over the past few minutes she’d jumped to the very top of his list.

* * *

Once Mr. Chandler left, Janell turned back to the children and found them wide-eyed. The place was tailor-made to be a child’s delight. The warmth inside was a welcome counterpoint to the windy outdoors, and the smells were mouthwateringly tantalizing.

Not only did Eve Dawson make delectable sweets, but her husband, Chance, carved wooden toys and fanciful decorations that he displayed around the shop. His woodworking area was visible across the room, separated only by a low rail.

He was there now and looked up when they entered and welcomed them with a smile. Then he bent over his work again.

Eve, her rounded stomach betraying the fact that she was expecting a child, stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hello, Janell. Who are these two fine-looking young’uns you have with you?”

“This is Chloe and Alex, Mr. Chandler’s niece and nephew. They just arrived in town and I thought I’d treat them to some of your candies.”

She saw understanding and sympathy flash in Eve’s expression. Everyone in town knew why Mr. Chandler had headed for Colorado a few weeks ago.

“Well, as first-time customers, you’re allowed to sample anything in the shop for free. Just let me know what you want.”

Alex and Chloe were already eyeing the treats on display with hungry eagerness. Much better than the scared and woeful expressions they’d worn earlier.

Janell turned back to Eve. “While they’re trying to decide, would you mind whipping us up some hot cocoa?”

Eve smiled. “Not at all. Three hot cocoas, coming right up.”

Her husband, who’d sauntered over from his workbench, gave them another smile, then dropped a quick kiss on Eve’s cheek. “Why don’t you let me handle the cocoa while you take care of your customers?” Without waiting for an answer, he headed for the kitchen.

Eve turned back to her young customers. “Made up your minds yet?”

Alex’s eyes were wide with appreciation for the treats spread before him. “It just all looks so good.”

“And what about you, Chloe?”

When the little girl didn’t answer, Eve’s smile turned uncertain.

Janell caught her gaze and touched her ear with a shake of her head.

With an understanding nod, Eve turned back to the children. “I tell you what—why don’t I make up a platter with a little bit of everything and bring it to your table?”

Alex’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Janell lightly touched Chloe’s arm to get her attention before sweeping a hand toward the tables. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?” She led them to one of the round tables that were set out for customers.

As they took their seats, Janell turned to Alex. “How old are you?”

“Eight.”

Then she turned to his sister. Touching the girl’s arm to get her attention once more, she carefully enunciated her question. “And how old are you?”

Alex immediately jumped in to answer for her. “She’s—”

Janell immediately stopped the boy with a raised hand. “Thank you, Alex, but I asked Chloe.”

“But—”

“She can still talk, can’t she?”

He shifted uncomfortably, shooting a furtive look his sister’s way before answering. “Yes, ma’am.”

Janell turned back to Chloe with a firm smile. “So, Chloe, how old are you?”

Chloe shook her head, a clear indication that she hadn’t understood. Janell knew from experience that even if the girl had read her lips properly, she wouldn’t have the confidence to answer. So she took a pencil and a scrap of paper from her handbag and wrote down the question.

Chloe looked at the note, then pursed her lips, as if she would refuse to answer. But Janell determinedly held her gaze and eventually the girl mumbled a reply. “Ten.”

Satisfied that she’d got the girl to respond verbally, Janell included Alex in her next question. “Then both of you will be in my class when you’re ready to join us at the school.”

Eve approached just then with a tray containing a generous mix of treats. “Here you go.” She set the tray between the children, then straightened and placed a hand lightly over her stomach. “I hope you enjoy.”

Both children leaned forward to examine the goodies. “Yes, ma’am,” Alex responded enthusiastically. “And thank you.”

Janell waited for Chloe to add her thanks, but the girl remained silent. She knew Chloe was having trouble interacting with folks around her, but it was time she began learning to do so again.

She leaned over and touched Chloe’s arm. The ten-year-old glanced up, a guarded expression on her face.

“Isn’t there something you’d like to say?” Janell spoke very deliberately, and when she was done she waved a hand Eve’s way.

Chloe blushed and pursed her lips stubbornly. Then she turned to their hostess. “Thank you.”

Eve smiled at the girl as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “You’re quite welcome. Now, I’ll leave you to enjoy your treats while I check on how the cocoa are coming.”

As Eve walked away, Janell gave the children an encouraging nod. “Help yourselves.”

Without further prompting, they each grabbed something from the tray. Janell reached for a piece of pumpkin-seed brittle, her personal favorite.

As she nibbled on it, she wondered how Mr. Chandler planned to deal with his new circumstances. Had he already realized how much his life was going to change, that this was not a temporary situation that he could resolve and then go back to the life he’d had before? As far as she knew, he didn’t have any family here in Turnabout. Was there someone he could turn to, or even hire if need be, to help him care for the children?

Before any of them had time to reach for more, the cocoa arrived and Janell let the children drink without further attempts at conversation. The pair gradually relaxed. Alex, whose feet didn’t quite touch the floor, swung his legs absently. Chloe fidgeted with her cup.

Perhaps once they’d finished their cocoa she could try again to get them to open up to her. But she found her thoughts drifting to their uncle, wondering when he would return and feeling a small flicker of anticipation at seeing him again.

Mr. Dawson came over and handed Alex and Chloe each their own very small wooden top. Alex’s had a green stripe around the middle and Chloe’s had a red stripe.

He taught them how to spin the tiny toys and then, with a smile, left them to try it on their own.

Their first few attempts drew smiles and even a giggle or two as they tried to get them to spin correctly. Then they challenged each other to see whose could spin the longest.

While they were still playing, the door opened and Mr. Chandler finally walked in. Janell immediately felt her spirits jump, responding to what, she wasn’t quite sure. But the children’s reaction seemed the exact opposite.

Was it because his presence reminded them of their loss? Or was there some other reason?

Mr. Chandler had the look of someone ready to do his duty by his niece and nephew, come what may. Perhaps that was what they sensed—that they were a duty, not a welcome presence.

Janell saw hints of weariness etched into the lines of his face and a touch of worry and helplessness in his eyes, and her heart was touched once more. Not only had he suddenly been left with a pair of grieving orphans, but he’d also lost his sister as well. The desire she’d felt earlier to help ease his burdens grew stronger.

“Where’s Smudge?” Chloe’s question pulled Janell back from those inappropriate thoughts.

The child’s tone had been a mix of accusation and apprehension, as if she suspected her uncle of having done something unpleasant to her pet. But the fact that she’d spoken at all was a good sign. It meant Chloe would make the effort to speak up given sufficient motivation.

Mr. Chandler, however, didn’t seem to share her optimism. Instead he looked resigned. “Don’t worry, Chloe—your pet is fine,” he said. “He’s waiting for us back at the house.”

Wanting to reassure the girl, Janell quickly wrote down Mr. Chandler’s response so Chloe could read it. Some of the girl’s anxiety eased, but not her suspicion. She glared at her uncle and then focused back on her cup of cocoa, idly pushing the toy top around with one finger.

For a moment, as Mr. Chandler studied his niece’s bent head, there was a defeated slump to his shoulders, as if he didn’t think he’d ever get through to her. Janell had the most unexpected urge to give his arm a comforting touch, barely stopping herself in time. What had got into her?

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice anything peculiar in her behavior. Instead, he seemed to draw on something inside himself. He straightened, once more the picture of confidence, and turned to her with a nod. “Thank you for watching Alex and Chloe. It was a big help.”

“You’re quite welcome. They were no trouble at all.”

“I’ll settle the bill with Mrs. Dawson and then we’ll be on our way,” he said, already turning back to the children. “Please don’t let us keep you any longer—I can take it from here.”

He sounded almost as if he meant that. But she wasn’t ready to go just yet—she needed to have a word with Mr. Chandler before he took the lost-looking youngsters home with him, if for no other reason than to give him a better idea of what he’d be facing in the coming days.

She stood and glanced toward the counter. “Eve, would you mind if I took Mr. Chandler to the kitchen to show him your new oven?”

Eve picked up her cue immediately. “Not at all.” She nodded. “Take your time. I’ll keep an eye on the children for you.”

Other than a quick raise of an eyebrow, Mr. Chandler hid his surprise at her odd request quite well. Without a word, he swept an arm forward, indicating she should precede him.

Once the kitchen door swung closed he crossed his arms. “I assume you didn’t really intend to show me the oven. So why are we here?”

Janell smiled as she motioned to a chair at the worktable. “I’d like to speak to you about something.”

He scrubbed a hand wearily across his jaw and glanced at the door as if he could see through it to the children. He was silent so long she thought he would refuse. But after a moment he nodded. He didn’t so much sit as drop into the seat.

“If I understood what you said earlier, Chloe hasn’t always been deaf.”

He shook his head. “The explosion that killed their parents also stole her hearing.”

Janell’s hand flew to her throat. “Explosion!” She hadn’t heard that part of the story.

He leaned forward with his hands clasped on the table. “My apologies for blurting that out—I wasn’t thinking. Back in Elgin Springs everyone knows what happened.”

“No need for apologies. I can’t imagine what those children have been through.”

His smile was grim. “Fortunately, Chloe was in a separate room when it happened.” He looked down at his hands. “So she didn’t actually witness...” His jaw tightened and he raked a hand through his hair.

She impulsively placed her hand on his. “That much, at least, is a blessing.”

His hand stiffened under hers and she drew back, feeling her cheeks warm. Had she been too forward?

Blessing? Hank’s anger and grief threatened to erupt again. No, there wasn’t much about what had happened in this matter that he would consider a blessing. Not for him, and not for the kids.

A heartbeat later he realized Miss Whitman had read something of his feelings. But he could also tell by the flush rising in her cheeks that she’d misinterpreted the reason.

Because he hadn’t objected to her touch at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of that, though.

Even if she looked quite pretty with that warm color in her face.

Yes, Miss Whitman had definitely solidified her place on his list of candidates for wife.