Книга - Her Holiday Family

Her Holiday Family
Winnie Griggs


THE CHRISTMAS CHILDRENReserved widow Eileen Pierce never considered herself the kind of woman who was cut out to be a mother. She wouldn't know what to do with one child, much less ten. But when handyman Simon Tucker is stranded in town with a group of young orphans at Christmastime, she discovers she can't just turn them away.Simon knows there's more to Eileen than meets the eye. Though his easygoing demeanor immediately clashes with her buttoned-up propriety, Simon's kindness soon melts Eileen's stern facade. Simon and the children already upended Eileen's quiet, orderly life. Will they do the same to her guarded heart?Texas Grooms: In search of their brides…







THE CHRISTMAS CHILDREN

Reserved widow Eileen Pierce never considered herself the kind of woman who was cut out to be a mother. She wouldn’t know what to do with one child, much less ten. But when handyman Simon Tucker is stranded in town with a group of young orphans at Christmastime, she discovers she can’t just turn them away.

Simon knows there’s more to Eileen than meets the eye. Though his easygoing demeanor immediately clashes with her buttoned-up propriety, Simon’s kindness soon melts Eileen’s stern facade. Simon and the children already upended Eileen’s quiet, orderly life. Will they do the same to her guarded heart?

Texas Grooms: In search of their brides…


Eileen knew she should not be focusing on Simon’s charming smile.

“I’ve always heard one should be cautious when dealing with a woman who insists on having the last word.” Simon shook his head with an exaggeratedly solemn expression that was belied by the twinkle in his eyes.

“As you should be. Most women with that trait tend to have a quick mind and a sharp wit.”

He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” And with a wave, he turned and sauntered away.

Had they actually been flirting? Eileen shook her head to clear it. Time to concentrate her efforts on something productive, like the mending that sat in her sewing basket.

Strange, though, how difficult it had become to complete even the simplest of tasks. Surely it was due to nothing more than the presence of so many houseguests.

As she accidentally jabbed the needle into her thumb, she acknowledged that perhaps there just might be something more specific tugging at her focus.


WINNIE GRIGGS

is a city girl born and raised in southeast Louisiana’s Cajun Country, who grew up to marry a country boy from the hills of northwest Louisiana. Though her Prince Charming (who often wears the guise of a cattle rancher) is more comfortable riding a tractor than a white steed, the two of them have been living their own happily-ever-after for thirty-plus years. During that time they raised four proud-to-call-them-mine children and a too-numerous-to-count assortment of dogs, cats, fish, hamsters, turtles and 4-H sheep.

Winnie retired from her “day job,” and now, in addition to her reading and writing, happily spends her time doing the things she loves best—spending time with her family, cooking and exploring flea markets.

Readers can contact Winnie at P.O. Box 14, Plain Dealing, LA 71064, or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.


Her Holiday Family

Winnie Griggs






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one’s religion is useless. Pure and undefiled religion before God our Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.

—James 1:26–27


To my marvelous Starbucks writing buddies, Connie and Amy, who helped me smooth over rough spots and figure out what direction to take my characters when I lost my way.

And to my wonderful editor, Melissa Endlich, who always helps me tweak my stories and nudges me to take my writing to the next level.


Contents

Cover (#uaac0c16f-e3ee-5fdb-80df-2230dc36e8b8)

Back Cover Text (#u29ed5291-2318-55dd-ab48-88db18fdfa6f)

Introduction (#u5c6a4ea6-25c6-5d3e-b225-711d58a692ca)

About the Author (#u2b2eb021-c4e3-5c3a-866b-4183966f40d8)

Title Page (#ua26a2a39-7d56-555a-919a-e476a3b3a918)

Bible Verse (#u58838ec8-e7cf-5e70-bd6f-f3848a513515)

Dedication (#u238561a8-5cf6-5705-ab7a-71ec33b468f0)

Chapter One (#ulink_a27d4d82-58de-51d8-8958-d7eee85143b0)

Chapter Two (#ulink_e708d464-7be5-583f-8a3a-5d560083bc45)

Chapter Three (#ulink_8a89b339-5c61-5e8c-8f71-f6e862872bde)

Chapter Four (#ulink_25632070-6be8-5dd8-8ecb-6c6f6548cf3e)

Chapter Five (#ulink_44d557ce-7df6-53f3-a5aa-83798cfd90d7)

Chapter Six (#ulink_9edb5661-a322-5e70-9b55-b0c8c2819734)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_c43305fa-58d8-5555-b48d-031fdb501959)

Turnabout, Texas November 1896

Simon stood at the front of the church with hat in hand, trying very hard not to look as rattled as he felt. Ten orphan kids—TEN!—all looking to him to turn this disaster around and set their world to rights again. What in blue blazes did a bachelor like him know about taking care of kids, especially so many of them?

When he’d agreed to this venture he sure hadn’t counted on ending up as the sole caretaker of these kids. But they were his responsibility now, and he’d have to see it through.

Sending up a silent “Lord help me” prayer, Simon made himself smile in what he hoped was a relaxed, neighborly fashion as he watched the members of the small-town congregation file into the hastily called emergency meeting. He and the kids were strangers here—didn’t know a soul—and he had no idea what to expect from these people. If they didn’t help him, he wasn’t sure what in the world he was going to do.

The children stood lined up in front of him, and they edged closer together as the church began to fill. Some of them held hands, as if trying to draw strength from each other. He could do with a bit of that himself, but unfortunately he was on his own—just like always.

Fern, a much-too-serious thirteen-year-old, was looking out for the youngest, as usual. Three-year-old Molly and four-year-old Joey stood on either side of her, holding on to her hand. He quickly checked over the rest of them, feeling a little kick of relief at the way they held themselves. He knew they were worried and scared, but not one of them uttered a word, and all the tears had been dried before they left the confusion of the train depot. Miss Fredrick had taught them well.

He glanced over their heads, studying these strangers who held his and the children’s fate in their hands—at least for the next few days. He disliked the idea of begging for handouts, but for the sake of his charges he would swallow his pride.

If there was ever a time he needed help, it was now. Hopefully there was a motherly sort out there who would know what to do and would be willing to take care of his charges.

At least he wasn’t facing these folks entirely alone. The town’s minister, Reverend Harper, stood at his side with his wife and daughter nearby. Thank goodness someone had had the presence of mind to call the clergyman in when they’d arrived. The reverend had assured him that the folks in his congregation were generous, warmhearted people who would help in any way they could.

As the people settled into the pews, he noted their expressions were a mix of curiosity and sympathy. Most offered encouraging smiles to the children. How many had already learned of their situation?

When it appeared the last person had taken a seat, Reverend Harper stepped forward. “Thank you all for responding to the bells and joining us here on such short notice.” He motioned toward Simon. “This gentleman is Mr. Simon Tucker and he’d like to introduce these fine children to you.”

Ready or not, he was up. How best to personalize these children for the congregation? Considering he’d only gotten to know them himself over this past week or so, it wouldn’t be easy.

He laid his hand lightly on Fern’s shoulder. “This young lady is Fern. She’s thirteen and the oldest of the children. She’s very responsible and is always looking out for the younger ones.”

He moved his hand to the shoulder of the boy on her right. “This little man here is Joey. Joey is four and loves animals.” Joey had told him more than once that Miss Fredrick had promised him he could have a dog when they reached Hatcherville, and it was as if she’d promised him the moon.

Simon shifted to the child on Fern’s left. “And this little sweet pea is Molly. She’s three and the youngest of our group.” Molly slipped her thumb in her mouth, and Simon couldn’t find it in his heart to blame her.

Next he moved on to the children he had the closest ties to. “These two are Audrey and Albert. They’re seven years old and twins.” They were also his niece and nephew.

He quickly went down the row, introducing the rest of the children—Rose, Lily, Tessa, Harry and Russell— trying to mention something positive about each of them. His gut told him it was important that these folks feel sympathy for the children.

When he was done, Reverend Harper spoke up again. “Thank you, Mr. Tucker.” He signaled his wife and daughter. “Now, while we grown-ups talk, Mrs. Harper and Constance will escort the children over to Daisy’s Restaurant, where Abigail is planning to serve them up a nice hot meal.”

Several of the children looked to Simon for reassurance. It once again drove home how dependent they now were on him. Scary thought. But he smiled and nodded.

Mrs. Harper took Lily’s hand while her daughter Constance took the hands of the twins. Together the whole lot of them filed out.

Simon resisted the urge to rake his hand through his hair. He needed to make a proper impression on these people.

When the little troupe had made their exit, Reverend Harper spoke up again, placing a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Mr. Tucker finds himself in need of our assistance, and I’ve assured him that the people of Turnabout are up to the challenge. As some of you may already know, there was an emergency on the train when it pulled into town this morning that required Dr. Pratt’s services. It turned out to be very serious indeed. I’ll let Mr. Tucker tell you more about what’s happening.”

Simon nodded to the clergyman. “Thank you, Reverend Harper.” Then he turned to the people seated in the pews. “The lady who is now in Dr. Pratt’s care, Miss Georgina Fredrick, is the guardian of the children you just met. I was escorting her and the children to a new home that’s waiting for them in Hatcherville. But just before we pulled into the station here, she had an attack of some sort. Your Dr. Pratt tells me she suffered a stroke. And her outlook isn’t good.”

He was encouraged by the sympathetic looks focused his way. But would it translate to action? “First, let me tell you a little about this dear lady. Miss Fredrick is a warm, generous and caring person. For the past nine years she’s opened her home to children who had nowhere else to go. Over that time, all of those children you just met have been left in her care and have found not only a safe home but have formed a family bond as strong as any blood kin.” His admiration for the woman knew no bounds. To his way of thinking there was no higher calling than to care for children.

He let his gaze roam across the people seated before him, briefly holding a gaze here and there before moving on. “Recently Miss Fredrick decided that her existing home in St. Louis could no longer accommodate her stretched-to-its-limits household. So I helped her find a new place. That’s where we were headed. I’m here because she asked me to provide an escort for her and the children, and to help them get settled in.”

He slid the brim of his hat through his fingers. “We obviously can’t move on until she’s recovered enough to travel.” Please God, see that she does recover. “So what I’m asking you folks for is a place for me and the kids to stay while we await that outcome.” Had he said too much? Not enough? He prayed he’d touched their hearts in some way. Simon drew back his shoulders. “I figure you all might have some questions for me before you respond, so feel free to fire away.”

A plump woman in the second row stood. “May I ask what your actual relationship is to Miss Fredrick and these children?”

“My sister Sally was Miss Fredrick’s housekeeper for a number of years and helped her care for the children.” He felt his chest constrict as he remembered his feisty younger sister. “Sally passed away three months ago, and Miss Fredrick continued to give her two children a home when I could not.” He would be forever grateful to the woman for taking in Audrey and Albert—goodness knows she was able to give them a better home than he ever could.

A tall bearded man near the back of the church stood. “Have these children been given a Christian upbringing?”

“Absolutely. Miss Fredrick sees that they attend church services regularly and reading from the Bible is part of their daily routine.” He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “And just so you know, they’ve also been taught proper manners and behavior.”

Apparently satisfied, the man sat back down. After a short silence, Reverend Harper stepped forward. “If there are no other questions for Mr. Tucker, we need to discuss his request for temporary lodgings for himself and the children. Is there anyone willing to step up and answer this call?”

To Simon’s relief, a number of hands went up. At least he’d be able to lay that worry aside.

“I can take three or four of them in.”

“I can take two.”

“I can take one.”

“I can take three.”

As the offers came in Simon’s optimism faded. He held up his hand to halt the offers. “That’s mighty generous of you folks, but I’m afraid there’s been a little misunderstanding. I need to keep them all together right now.” The idea of splitting them up brought back unpleasant memories of how he and his sisters had been farmed out all those years ago. But it was more than that. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your very kind offers, but since these children are in my sole care right now, I need to be able to keep an eye on all of them. And separating them when they’re already feeling so anxious about their foster mother is just going to upset them more.”

That announcement was greeted with an uncomfortable silence. What was he going to do if they couldn’t make this work? He’d promised he wouldn’t separate them—he personally knew how wrenching that could be. Even if they all had to sleep on pallets on the floor, it would be preferable to scattering them, especially now when they needed each other.

He tried again. “It’s not as if they each need their own room. They’re used to sharing tight quarters.”

Reverend Harper cleared his throat. “I think we all understand and sympathize with your reasoning, Mr. Tucker, but what you’re asking is a mighty tall order to fill. There are eleven of you, after all.”

The reverend said that as if Simon weren’t already painfully aware of the situation.

But before he could respond, the man continued. “You may have to accept the need to separate them for a few days. We can likely find accommodations for two large groups, but there’s not many households large enough to accept eleven guests for an overnight—”

He paused as if he’d just had an idea, and Simon immediately felt his hope rise. Had the man come up with a solution? Simon was ready to grasp at any straw.

Reverend Harper had looked to the pews on the right-hand side of the church as if seeking someone out. “Unless... Ah, there you are, Mrs. Pierce. Perhaps you would allow us to impose on your generosity?”

Simon followed the minister’s gaze, trying to figure out who he was looking at. Then a slender, blonde woman, dressed in the purple and gray of half mourning, stood. There was something arresting about her. She was taller than the average woman and held herself with an elegant grace, but it was more than that. Aloof, cool, distant—she seemed not so much a part of this gathering as a disinterested observer. Her face seemed expressionless, but her thickly lashed brown eyes seemed to miss nothing.

And yet he sensed something vulnerable about her, a just-below-the-surface fragility that tugged at him.

While her expression gave nothing away, he had the distinct impression this ice queen was not going to go along with the reverend’s verbal arm-twisting happily.

Which didn’t bode well for just how “motherly” she would be toward the children.

* * *

As all eyes in the church turned her way expectantly, Eileen Pierce hid her surprise, maintaining the composed, disinterested pose that was second nature to her.

She had just been thinking how shocked her neighbors, who had ignored or outright snubbed her for the past two years, would be if she volunteered her home. The idea had amused her, almost to the point that she’d been tempted to do it just to see the scandalized looks on their faces.

Almost. Because she hadn’t had any real intention of doing so.

God had seen fit not to give her any children of her own, and she’d come to accept that there was a reason for that—she wasn’t the kind of woman who was cut out to be a mother. She wouldn’t know what to do with one child, much less ten.

But she wasn’t truly surprised that Reverend Harper had turned to her, even though she was persona non grata in Turnabout. After all, she owned the largest house in town, one that could easily accommodate these stranded visitors. But as satisfying as it would be to dispense a bit of noblesse oblige, it wasn’t worth the risk. Opening her doors to so many outsiders would mean exposing how far she’d actually fallen from her days as the wife of the town’s wealthiest and most prominent businessman.

For just a moment, however, she was disconcerted by the way Mr. Tucker looked at her, as if she were his lifeline. She could feel the impact of his intently focused blue eyes from all the way across the room. It had been some time since she’d felt herself the object of such interest. She finally recognized the emotion—he needed her. She couldn’t remember a time when anyone truly needed her. And she wasn’t certain how she felt about it now.

Eileen gave her head a mental shake, refocusing on the current situation. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by such frivolous emotions. Or by a winning smile from a man with intriguing blue eyes and hair the color of rich, loamy soil.

Still trying to figure out how to extricate herself, she gave a nonanswer. “I assume by that question you are asking me to open my home to the entire group.”

Before Reverend Harper or the stranger could speak up, Eunice Ortolon, the town’s most notorious busybody, stood. “Excuse me, Reverend, but while Mrs. Pierce’s home is large enough, surely that shouldn’t be the only consideration.” The woman drew her shoulders back. “While I understand Mr. Tucker not wanting to separate the children, perhaps it would be best to house them in two or three homes with families that are more—” she cut a quick look Eileen’s way “—let us say, accustomed to dealing with children.”

Eileen stiffened. Eunice might as well have used the word suitable—it was so obviously there in her tone.

Ivy Parker, the only other person sharing Eileen’s pew, and the closest thing she had to a friend here, stood up immediately. “As a former boarder of Eileen’s, I can attest to the fact that her home would be the perfect place to house these children—her home is both roomy and welcoming.” She gave Eileen an encouraging smile. “That is, if she feels so led to make the offer.”

Eileen appreciated that Ivy had come to her defense, but now was not the time for everyone to suddenly approve of her. Unfortunately she could see several folks giving her tentative smiles of encouragement.

The urge to give in to her frustration was strong, and Eileen maintained her impassive expression by sheer force of will. She wanted so much to be accepted by the community again, but this was not the way.

Of course there were still those, like Mrs. Ortolon, who looked either hesitant or disapproving.

How in the world could she extricate herself without sounding selfish and uncaring?

And why was she so oddly reluctant to disappoint Mr. Tucker?


Chapter Two (#ulink_952c69f7-dec0-5ce7-9397-12d6788fcff3)

Eileen decided to buy herself some time with a question. “How long do you suppose you and the children would need a place to stay, Mr. Tucker?”

He didn’t seem to take offense at her question. “I wish I could tell you, ma’am, but to be honest, I can’t really say. We’re completely dependent on when Miss Fredrick recovers enough to travel again. And Dr. Pratt couldn’t give me any indication of when that might be.”

It was the answer she’d expected. “You have my sympathies, sir. But you must understand, boarding so many individuals for an extended length of time is quite a challenge, regardless of the size of one’s home. Especially on such short notice.”

“As I said,” Mrs. Ortolon declared in a self-righteous tone, “the children will be better off if we send them to smaller but more suitable homes.”

The words and the tone they were delivered in got Eileen’s back up again, though she refused to show it. It was the stab of disappointment and frustration that she saw in Mr. Tucker’s eyes, however, that prodded her next words. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t invite them in, Eunice, merely that it would be a challenge.”

“You do have the space to house us all, though?” Mr. Tucker pressed.

At her nod, he continued. “I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important, ma’am. The children need the comfort of each other’s company right now. I’d be mighty grateful to you if you could see your way to providing that for them. If you’d find it in your heart to provide them with a place to stay, I promise to do my best to keep them out of your way. I assure you they are well behaved.” Then he flashed her a disarmingly self-deprecating smile. “Or as well behaved as kids their age can be expected to be.”

She nodded again, entranced by the friendly warmth of his manner. “Of course.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” His expression held a guarded hopefulness that she couldn’t bear to disappoint.

“I suppose I will.”

No sooner had she uttered the words than she came to her senses. Why had she said that? This was a disaster. There was no way she could keep her state of affairs hidden in the face of such an invasion.

But before she could find a way to take it back, she found herself being thanked and applauded by various members of the congregation.

Ivy stood. “Since you’re providing the housing, I believe I speak for all the members of the Ladies Auxiliary in saying we will do our part to help in other ways.” She looked around the church, where she received a number of nods, then back at Eileen. “We can provide meals and anything else you might need to help accommodate your new guests.”

Eileen wasn’t particularly pleased by the offer. After all, she was not a charity case to be accepting handouts. If she was going to do this, then she would do it in a manner befitting her position. “I appreciate the offer but there is no need.” She kept her tone polite. It would stretch the limits of her pantry if the group stayed with her more than three or four days, but she would manage somehow. Better to go hungry later than have folks think she was unable to provide for her guests.

Ivy gave her an uncomfortably perceptive look, then spoke again. “It’s very commendable of you to do this, Eileen,” she said in a gentle tone, “but you’re already opening your home to our visitors. Surely you won’t rob the rest of us of the joy that comes with sharing our blessings.”

Bless Ivy for coming up with the perfect way to help her save face. “Of course not.” Eileen waved a hand in gracious surrender. “Since you feel so strongly about this, I will defer to the Ladies Auxiliary to provide the meals.”

“Excellent.” Reverend Harper beamed approval at his flock, then turned back to Eileen. “Mrs. Pierce, your generosity does you great credit.”

His words made her feel like a fraud, so she held her tongue.

But the reverend seemed not to expect a response. Instead he clapped Mr. Tucker on the back. “I told you these people would rise to the occasion.”

“Thank you folks.” Mr. Tucker executed a short bow in her direction. “And you especially, Mrs. Pierce.” He left the preacher’s side and approached her with a broad smile on his face.

Ivy stepped out of their shared pew to allow him to step in.

“You have no idea what a wonderful thing you’ve done for the children,” he said, stepping past Ivy.

Goodness, was the man planning to join her in the pew? She should have followed Ivy into the aisle.

Keeping her features carefully schooled, Eileen nodded. The whole congregation was watching them and the pew suddenly seemed crowded. The impact of his warm smile and deep blue eyes was even more arresting up close. And he was a good half foot taller than her.

It didn’t help her equanimity that her feelings of being a fraud had deepened. “There is no need for thank-yous,” she said stiffly. “One does what one can to help those in need.”

There was a flicker of something she couldn’t quite read in his eyes, then his smile returned. “Nevertheless, you have my gratitude. I don’t have much money to offer you, but I’m a handyman and cabinetmaker by trade. I’d certainly be willing to repay you by taking care of any repairs or other work around your place that needs attending to.”

There were certainly a number of things that could use a handyman’s touch around her place. Eileen allowed a small smile to escape her lips. “Thank you, Mr. Tucker. We shall see.” Then she took a mental step back again. “I will, of course, need time to get everything prepared for your stay.”

He spread his hands. “Understood. Will a couple of hours be sufficient?”

She’d like to have more time, but she supposed she couldn’t ask him to keep ten children standing around indefinitely. And besides, more time would not make her sold-off furnishings magically reappear. “I shall see that it is.”

His smile grew warmer. “Again, thank you. And please don’t go to a lot of trouble. All we really need is a place for everyone to sleep.”

If he only knew—she was going to have trouble providing very much more than the bare necessities.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone.” Ivy’s words brought her back to the here and now. “Tell us what you think you’ll need, besides help with the meals.”

Eileen considered that a moment. She supposed she shouldn’t let the children suffer for her pride. “Some extra bedding would be helpful.”

“Of course. I’ll work with the Ladies Auxiliary to round some up for you.”

Eve Dawson approached them with a smile for Mr. Tucker. “After the children finish their meals at the restaurant, bring them down to the sweet shop and I’ll treat them to some candy.”

Mr. Tucker turned his smile her way, and Eileen felt an unaccountable stab of jealousy that it wasn’t still directed at her.

“That’s going to really perk up their spirits,” he said. “Thank you.”

Eileen took herself in hand. That little prickle of jealousy was a clear indication she’d let her guard down much too far. That wouldn’t do at all.

The meeting broke up, and folks were chatting in clusters or slowly filing out. He had his back to her now, releasing her from the strain of keeping her expression neutral under his gaze. Instead she had a view of the back of his head. His hair was worn shorter than what was usual for the men around here. But she decided it suited him.

Then she straightened. What in the world was she doing thinking of such things, especially about a stranger? Just because the man had looked kindly at her was no reason to get moon-eyed over him.

Mr. Tucker’s hand was being shaken and encouraging words said to him, giving Eileen time to gather her wits. A quick glance toward the front of the church revealed several members of the Ladies Auxiliary were already gathering.

She mentally winced. At one time she’d been head of the Ladies Auxiliary and now, despite the face-saving efforts of Ivy, guests in her home had become the object of their charitable efforts, and by extension, she had, as well. What a long way she’d fallen since her husband’s ignominious death two years ago. If her mother were still alive today she would be mortified, but probably not surprised, by her daughter’s loss of status in the community.

Time to get some air. “If you will excuse me, I should return home and prepare the house to receive guests.”

Mr. Tucker stepped out into the aisle to let her pass. “Please allow me to escort you home.”

She again felt that tingle at his friendly, dare she say approving, smile. And again she strove to ignore it. “Thank you, but it’s only a few blocks away and I’m sure you want to get back to the children.”

But Mr. Tucker didn’t take her hint. He raised a brow with a teasing look. “I insist. The kids are in good hands for the moment. Besides, not only will this allow me the pleasure of your company, but accompanying you will let me know where your place is so I can escort the children there when it’s time.”

Before she could protest again, he turned serious. “And there are probably a few things we should talk about before I bring the children around.”

There was no polite way to refuse such a request. “In that case, I accept.” Again she’d acted against her better judgment.

She would definitely have to watch her step with this one.

* * *

Simon allowed his soon-to-be-hostess to precede him from the church building. She had returned to the cool, aloof individual she’d been when she first stood up in the meeting. Usually he had no use for pretentiousness and haughty airs. He’d seen too much of that in the home of his Uncle Corbitt, the man who’d taken him in when his folks died.

But for a few minutes he’d seen behind the mask she wore to a warmer, more vibrant woman. And that intrigued him, made him think that perhaps she was a person worth getting to know better. And she had, after all, opened her home to him and the kids. He could forgive her a lot for that.

But which one was the real Mrs. Pierce—the ice queen or the vulnerable, warmhearted lady? It would be interesting to find out.

He’d sensed some uneasy undercurrents between this woman and the rest of the townsfolk, and that, too, intrigued him. Not that the situation was any of his business. Besides, he preferred to form his own opinions about folks rather than pay attention to hearsay and gossip.

And the fact that she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about having them as guests—that just made it doubly generous of her to have done so as far as he was concerned.

As for that standoffishness she wore like armor—he was just going to have to go into this arrangement knowing he couldn’t count on the kids to get any warm motherly attention from her. But perhaps there was a housekeeper or someone else in her household who could supply that. And if not, then at least they would all be together.

Still, there was something about Mrs. Pierce that made him want to look deeper, to find out what was at the heart of this woman.

Then Simon took himself to task. What really mattered right now was how much help she’d be with the kids.

“You said we had something to discuss?”

Her dry words and tone brought him back to the present. Truth to tell, he hadn’t had anything specific in mind when he said that—it had just been a way of getting around her protests. But there were a few things he was curious about. “Do you live alone?”

“I have one boarder, Miss Dovie Jacobs.”

Boarder—not family. Interesting. “Is Miss Jacobs likely to be bothered when we all descend on your home this afternoon?”

“I don’t believe so. Miss Jacobs is a very motherly sort of woman. In fact, she is much like your Miss Fredrick, though on a smaller scale. She once took in and raised an orphaned child. If I’m wrong, however, she can always retreat to her own room.”

“That’s a relief—that our presence won’t bother her, I mean.” At least there’d be one person in the house who knew how to deal with children. Assuming she was willing to lend a hand.

If this Miss Jacobs was the only other person in her household, however, that would mean...“Forgive the personal question, but you were addressed as Mrs. Pierce. Is there no Mr. Pierce?”

“My husband has been deceased a little over two years now.”

There was no change in her expression and she didn’t expand. “My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

Again there was no emotion. Mrs. Pierce was obviously a very private person. Which made him all the more curious to learn more about her. And was it wrong that he was just the tiniest bit pleased that she was single?

Before he could ask about household staff, she halted next to a small wrought iron gate and waved a hand toward the place the gate guarded. “This is my home,” she said simply.

He studied the three-story house with interest. He could see why Reverend Harper had thought this would be the answer to his need. Not only was the structure impressively grand, it was also set on a large piece of property with plenty of room for rambunctious kids to run around. It was also one of the few brick buildings he’d seen in this town. From the front porch that was supported by imposing columns, to the rounded, turretlike section that jutted from the right side of the structure, to the dormered roofline edged in stately woodwork, this place spoke of wealth and elegance, much as the woman herself did.

It seemed a waste that Mrs. Pierce and her boarder were the only residents—the place practically cried out for a large family to inhabit it.

A closer look at the structure, however, showed that it wasn’t quite as well maintained as it seemed at first glance. Some of the woodwork was in need of painting and at least a few of the shingles on the roof were loose. The yard needed raking and trimming. And that was just what he could see from here. One thing was certain; he’d definitely be able to make himself useful while he was here.

A profusion of well-manicured plants fronted the structure—the garden hadn’t suffered from the same neglect as the house. A woman with a pair of garden shears in her gloved hands knelt among the plants lining the front walk.

A gardener perhaps? It stood to reason that a woman such as Mrs. Pierce, with an impressive house like this one, would have servants.

The woman stood as soon as she saw them, and Simon was surprised by how tiny she was. She couldn’t be any taller than four foot six or seven. And she looked old enough to be his companion’s mother.

“Well, hello.” The woman tugged off her gardening gloves, her eyes alight with friendly curiosity.

Mrs. Pierce gestured toward the smiling gardener. “Miss Jacobs, this is Mr. Simon Tucker. Mr. Tucker, this is Miss Dovie Jacobs, the boarder I mentioned.”

He touched the brim of his hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She acknowledged his greeting with a friendly nod. “Did you two just come from the town meeting?” She absently brushed the leaves and dirt from her skirt. “I’ll admit I’ve been nigh on bursting with curiosity.”

Simon wondered why she hadn’t gone to the meeting herself. But it wouldn’t be polite to ask. “We did,” he said as he opened the gate. “And it so happens I was the subject. I find myself stranded here in town with ten children and their guardian who has taken seriously ill.” He nodded deferentially to his companion. “Mrs. Pierce has generously agreed to open her home to us while we await the outcome of our friend’s illness.” He gave her what he hoped was a winning smile. “I hope that won’t inconvenience you any.”

“Not at all. And I’m sure enough sorry about your friend. I’ll pray she recovers quickly.”

Then she turned to Mrs. Pierce and gave her an approving smile. “Good for you. I’ve thought this place was crying out for a big family ever since I moved in. And ten children, bless my soul—that will certainly keep us on our toes.”

From Miss Jacobs’s tone, the two women’s relationship seemed more friendly than the businesslike face Mrs. Pierce had put on it. Good to know that the tension he’d sensed at the meeting didn’t extend to her household.

Miss Jacobs turned back to him. “You can count on me to help with the little ones in any way that I can.”

He was glad to hear it. He could already sense she would be one who balanced doting and discipline the way Miss Fredrick had seemed to. “Thank you, ma’am. From what I’ve seen of them on this trip, these are a mostly well-behaved lot, but they are children.”

“Don’t you worry none, young man, between me and Eileen here we’ll manage nicely.”

Mrs. Pierce didn’t respond to that. Instead she gave him a puzzled look. “So you don’t know these children well?”

He shook his head. “Up until a short time ago, I knew Miss Fredrick and her charges mainly through my sister’s letters. I popped in and out over the years to visit Sally and her children, of course, but that was all.” He straightened. “Make no mistake, though, these children are my responsibility until I get them to where they’re going.”

“Of course.” One delicate brow rose a fraction of an inch. “Was there anything else we needed to discuss right now?”

“No ma’am, unless you have questions for me.”

She gave him a “you’re dismissed” look. “I thank you for walking me home, but if you will excuse me, there are many preparations to be made.”

Simon touched the brim of his hat again. “Then I’ll be on my way. Thank you again for your hospitality, and I’ll bring the kids over in a couple of hours.”

Then he paused. “Can you direct me to the restaurant?”

With a nod, she turned to face the way they’d come. “Go back as far as Second Street, then turn right. The restaurant will be a block and a half on your left.” She faced him again and the movement brought them unexpectedly closer together.

Her eyes widened and for a moment her aloof exterior cracked the tiniest bit. Her breathing seemed to hitch for just a heartbeat and her fingertips fluttered to her throat as if seeking a pulse there. Oh, yes, beneath that ice-queen exterior, an ember glowed. An ember he’d like to see burn brighter.

She recovered quickly, though, dropping her hand and schooling her expression. “The sign in front of the building reads Daisy’s Restaurant,” she said coolly. “You can’t miss it.”

With a thank-you for Mrs. Pierce and a tip of his hat for Miss Jacobs, Simon took his leave.

Meeting Miss Jacobs had relieved at least one of his concerns. The woman seemed willing and able to provide whatever mothering the children would need these next few days.

But his wayward mind was more interested in Mrs. Pierce than her boarder. That little close encounter they’d just had had obviously rattled her. And he wouldn’t deny he’d felt something, as well. It was nothing more than mere curiosity, though—he couldn’t let it be anything more. He had no time in his life right now for anything but meeting the kids’ needs. Still, there was nothing to say he couldn’t enjoy getting to know his hostess better while he was stuck here.

Would she be able to maintain that ice-queen demeanor once the children invaded her home? Or would that other, less confident but much more interesting Mrs. Pierce show through?

Well, if anything could strip the standoffish tendencies from a person, it was dealing with a houseful of kids. And he was rather pleased he’d be around to watch it happen.


Chapter Three (#ulink_4e1b462a-8c32-5db1-8c90-8287e77a68d3)

Eileen watched Mr. Tucker walk away, studying the casual confidence of his demeanor, still confused by her own reaction to him. There was nothing sophisticated or polished about the man. He’d called himself a handyman and cabinetmaker, which to her translated into a common laborer with some carpentry skills. His hands had been callused and even had a couple of rough-looking scars.

Not at all the kind of man she should be attracted to.

So what was it about him that drew her? There was the confidence in his bearing and his earnestness. And then there was his warm smile that reached all the way to his cornflower eyes that just drew a person in.

“That Mr. Tucker seems like a nice young man.”

Eileen started, as if she’d been caught mooning over some imaginary beau. She turned and stepped through the gate, ignoring Dovie’s knowing smile. “I suppose.”

She returned to a businesslike manner, dismissing her wayward and totally inappropriate thoughts. Better to focus on the trouble that was about to descend on her. Ten children—what had she been thinking? She had no idea how to deal with children of any age, much less a horde of them.

But she could handle this. After all, she had been trained to be ready to rise to any sort of social emergency with grace and confidence. How much worse could this be than handling household servants or an unruly party guest or even a last-minute menu disaster? As for the matter of her financial straits being discovered, she’d have to put a good face on that as best she could. Surely it was only a matter of remaining unruffled and not allowing her guests to get overly familiar.

She turned to Dovie with returning confidence. “As the person in town with the biggest home, I felt it was my duty to offer shelter to these poor stranded children.” Not entirely true—she hadn’t volunteered so much as been cornered, but in the end she had agreed to help.

Dovie eyed her approvingly. “Opening your home to them was a generous, Christian gesture, especially being as you’re such a private kind of person. And don’t you worry, like I told that young man, I’ll pitch in and help where I can.”

Thank goodness Dovie liked to keep busy. This new situation would certainly afford her boarder plenty of opportunities for that. “I appreciate your offer.” She unbent slightly. “I’ll admit, I don’t have experience dealing with children.” No, that was one lady-of-the-manor skill she had never been taught.

“Don’t you worry about that none. The only thing you have to know is that what children need most is love, patience and discipline. And of course a grounding in the Good Book. Give them that and the rest will work itself out.”

Eileen didn’t have a response for that, so she moved on to something else. “The members of the Ladies Auxiliary have agreed to help with the meals.”

Dovie fell into step with her as they moved to the house. “It’s always good when a whole community comes together to help those in need.” She gave Eileen a sideways look. “So when are the children supposed to get here?”

“In about two hours.”

“Then we’d best get to work.”

Eileen took a deep breath. Since her husband’s death, she’d found herself overwhelmed by the debt he’d left behind. She’d been reduced to selling many of her prized furnishings, as furtively as possible, of course, and had had to do some creative rearranging of the remaining pieces to try to cover it up.

The result was that many of the unused rooms were stripped to the bare essentials and had been closed off from view, even from her boarder. Not that she had many visitors these days.

But now she was going to be forced to open those rooms up for her guests’ use and there would be no hiding anything. It would be best to prepare Dovie for the reality she would soon see. “You should know that the furnishings are rather sparse in most of the extra rooms.”

Dovie seemed to see nothing wrong with that. “As long as your guests have a bed to rest in, I don’t imagine they’ll be doing any complaining.”

“There are six girls and four boys to accommodate besides Mr. Tucker.” It was just hitting her that the man who’d thrown her so off balance today would be residing here, as well. She would really have to keep her guard up for the next few days. But, strangely, she was more energized than irritated by the challenge.

Not that Mr. Tucker was of any more import than the children. “There are five extra bedchambers on the second floor and four on the third.” She frowned. “But I don’t think it necessary to give each child his or her own room.”

“Oh, my, no. In fact, they’ll probably be happier if they have someone to share with. Why don’t we put the girls in three of the second-floor rooms and Mr. Tucker and the boys in three of the rooms on the third?”

Eileen nodded, relieved that Dovie agreed. That would mean fewer rooms to prepare and fewer bed linens to deal with. “That sounds like an acceptable approach.”

The two women had barely started when the doorbell sounded. Eileen left Dovie to finish opening the windows and stripping the beds while she went to see who was at the door. Surely Mr. Tucker hadn’t returned already?

When she opened the door, however, it was Ivy Parker, and right behind her was her husband, Mitch, and a couple of young boys. All four of them were loaded down with armfuls of linens.

“Hello,” Ivy said cheerily. “Where would you like us to set these?”

Eileen stepped aside. “Please come in.” She waved to the open doorway on the left. “You can set it all on the table in the dining room.”

As they trooped into her home, Ivy chattered away. “The members of the Ladies Auxiliary all contributed something. You’ll find sheets and coverlets enough for eight beds. If you need more, let us know. We also figured you’d need some extra towels so we brought a stack of those, as well.”

Extra towels—of course. She should have thought of that. What else hadn’t she taken into consideration? And the thought of ten children needing baths was enough to send a shiver up her spine.

But it would never do to show a lack of confidence—she was the lady of the house. It was her duty to make all of her guests feel at home. “Thank you. I’m sure we will be able to put all of this to good use.”

Once everything was safely deposited on the table, Ivy shooed her husband and the youths away, then turned to Eileen. “Now, what can I do to help you get ready for the invasion?”

“That’s really not necessary. Dovie is assisting and between the two of us—”

Ivy interrupted with a wave of her hand. “Fiddlesticks. I don’t mind a bit, and it’ll give me a chance to visit with Nana Dovie.”

Ivy had been orphaned as an infant and Dovie had been the one to raise her. They were very much like mother and daughter even though there was no blood tie between them. Eileen supposed, more than anyone else in town, these two women could truly relate to these children and their situation.

Without waiting for a response, Ivy headed for the stairs. “By the way, Reggie volunteered to take care of the evening meal for you all today so there’s no need to worry about that.”

Regina Barr was Eileen’s nearest neighbor and the current head of the Ladies Auxiliary.

Ivy looked back over her shoulder without slowing. “And there’s a list forming of volunteers to handle the meals for the next several days.”

At least that was one worry off her shoulders. The food she’d put up from her garden this past summer and what she had left to harvest from her fall planting was supposed to take her through the winter. She could ill afford to feed an army of children solely from her own stores for more than a few days without adversely affecting her future menus.

With a start she realized Ivy was already headed up the stairs. Since Ivy had boarded here for a while before she married the schoolteacher, she knew where everything was.

Managing to catch up to her without breaking into a hoydenish rush, Eileen decided it would do no good to argue—she’d learned Ivy usually went her own way.

Ivy rolled up her sleeves and set to work as soon as she reached the second floor. As far as Eileen could tell, her former boarder seemed to see nothing amiss with the stark furnishings and lack of fancy drapes and coverlets in the spare bedchambers. She supposed, if anyone in town had to see her true state of affairs, then Ivy and Dovie would be the most sympathetic to her situation. Neither had known her before her fall from grace or had witnessed the lavish way she’d conducted her life back then. For that matter, nor did any of the visitors who would be here for the next few days. So there were no unflattering comparisons for them to make, no unpleasant history for them to remember.

As for Mr. Tucker, the admiration she’d seen in his eyes had been very disconcerting. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time. And she was honest enough to admit, just for a moment, she’d wanted to bask in it.

Perhaps it was worth all this bother just for that small, precious gift.

She just had to make certain she didn’t get used to it.

Because it wasn’t likely to come from anyone else anytime soon.

* * *

When Simon checked in at the restaurant to see how the kids were faring, the women there assured him they had everything under control. He’d been surprised to see that one end of the restaurant housed a library. He hadn’t expected such niceties in this small-town community.

The reverend’s daughter, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, was reading a book to several of the younger children, while some of the older ones were browsing the shelves and thumbing through books on their own. Mrs. Harper pulled him aside to assure him they would keep an eye on the children for as long as he needed them to.

Satisfied they were in good hands, Simon headed to Dr. Pratt’s clinic to check on Miss Fredrick.

He was thankful they’d landed in the midst of such good people. On his own he’d have been totally inadequate to the task of looking after the children. After all, what did a thirty-year-old bachelor like him know about taking care of kids, especially little girls. And while Mrs. Pierce might not be the maternal type, her boarder, Miss Jacobs, would know how to deal with the needs of the children. Surely between the three of them, they could manage whatever was required over the next few days.

And hopefully they wouldn’t be here in Turnabout longer than that. He had to keep believing Miss Fredrick would recover soon and they could be on their way once more. Surely God wouldn’t allow for any other outcome.

That thought made him wince. He of all people should know that bad things did happen to good people, even innocent children, and God alone knew the reasons.

Unbidden, his thoughts turned to when he was nine years old and his own parents had died. He and his sisters had been farmed out to different relatives and rarely got to see each other again. In fact, his youngest sister, Imogene, had passed away the following year without him even knowing until the funeral was over and done with.

Just one more sign of what Uncle Corbitt’s opinion of “that side of the family” had been.

Simon determinedly pushed those thoughts away and entered the doctor’s office trying to maintain a hopeful outlook. “How’s Miss Fredrick doing?”

The somberness in the spare, white-haired doctor’s demeanor wasn’t encouraging. “I wish I had better news for you, but she’s not showing any signs of improvement.”

“But she is going to get better, isn’t she?” He couldn’t quite mask the hint of desperation in his voice.

The doctor came around his desk and leaned back against it as he faced Simon sympathetically. “I’m afraid you need to face facts. There’s a very real possibility she might never regain consciousness. If there’s anyone to be notified, I would do it now.”

Simon raked his hand through his hair, not wanting to accept what the doctor was saying. “She has a brother—his name is Wilbur I believe—but they had a falling-out. Other than the children, she doesn’t have anyone else that I’m aware of.”

“Notify her brother.” The doctor’s tone was firm. “I find most people put their differences aside at a time like this.”

“Of course. But it is possible she’ll recover, isn’t it?”

The doctor looked at him with sympathy. “Anything is possible, son. But it’s very much in God’s hands now.”

Before Simon could respond, one of the side doors opened and a woman dressed in black with a crisp white bibbed apron stepped out. The doctor straightened. “Mr. Tucker, allow me to introduce my niece, Verity Leggett.”

Simon tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“She and her daughter have recently moved in with us,” the doctor continued. “Verity is helping here at the clinic. Between her, my wife and me, someone will be with Miss Fredrick at all times.”

“Thank you. I appreciate all you’re doing for Miss Fredrick.” He scrubbed his jaw, trying to collect his thoughts. “The kids have been asking after her. Would it be okay if they came around to see her?”

The doctor hesitated before replying. “As long as they are prepared for what they will see. Unless something changes, she’ll be unconscious and unable to move or speak.”

“Mr. Tucker.” Mrs. Leggett’s tone was sympathetic but firm. “I hope you don’t mind my interference, but as a mother myself, I feel it would be unwise to bring the children here just yet. It would only serve to upset them further.”

Simon nodded. “I appreciate your advice, ma’am.”

He thanked them both again, then asked the whereabouts of the telegraph office and took his leave.

What was he going to do if Miss Fredrick didn’t make it? More to the point, what would become of the children? He’d given Miss Fredrick his word that he’d do everything in his power to get them all safely to their new home. But what was the use of getting them to Hatcherville if Miss Fredrick wasn’t there to look out for them? He certainly couldn’t step into that role himself, not alone at any rate. He’d take in his niece and nephew, Audrey and Albert, if there was no other choice but to separate the children. But he’d scour heaven and earth to keep them all together if he could.

Almighty God, please let this dear woman live. She’s doing Your work here and it doesn’t seem right to not let her finish it, especially now when she is in reach of her dream of giving these kids a new and better life. They need her—they have nowhere else to go, no one else to look out for them.

And I certainly didn’t sign on to become their full-time guardian. You, who know all things, know that I wouldn’t be the kind of caretaker they need—they need a mother’s touch.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, remembering his own mother, aching a little that she’d been taken from him so young. Uncle Corbitt’s housekeeper had been a poor substitute. He didn’t intend to let that happen to these children.

Exactly two hours from the time he’d left the church, Simon led a parade of children to the front gate of Mrs. Pierce’s home. He was doing his best to keep up a cheerful facade, trying to paint this as an adventure, a temporary stopover on their journey to their new home, rather than a tragedy.

They’d just come from the sweet shop, which was located in the same space as a toy store, so the children had been chattering happily when they set out. But now they had quieted, and he sensed nervousness and some anxiety in the group.

Understandable. He’d tried to give them a hopeful report on Miss Fredrick’s condition, but he hadn’t wanted to lie, so he was sure the older ones, at least, had read between the lines. And now they were approaching a strange place, owned by a person they’d never met, to reside there for an unspecified amount of time. It would be a nerve-racking situation for many adults to walk into—how much more so for children?

“It’s a castle.” Molly’s eyes were wide as she stared at Mrs. Pierce’s home. “Just like in a fairy tale. Does a queen live here?”

Simon smiled down at her. “Not a queen, but a couple of very nice ladies.”

Molly stuck her thumb back in her mouth, appearing unconvinced.

With a mental sigh, Simon climbed the wide stone steps onto the porch and twisted the ornate brass doorbell. The ring echoed from inside the house. Then the silence stretched out for what seemed forever. Behind him the children shuffled restlessly. And he had a sudden stab of fear that Mrs. Pierce might have changed her mind. After all, it had been obvious she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of housing them.

He was just contemplating whether or not to give the bell another twist, when the door finally opened.


Chapter Four (#ulink_3928e6bd-a974-52f1-8996-27ceb5fa9684)

Simon was almost embarrassed by the wave of relief that flooded through him. He hoped he did a good job of hiding it. Then he saw who’d opened the door and had to hide his reaction all over again.

Why was Mrs. Pierce answering her own door? Didn’t she have a housekeeper? Surely the elegant widow didn’t care for this huge house herself? Perhaps her servant was otherwise occupied at the moment.

Mrs. Pierce stepped aside to let them enter. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting. Miss Jacobs and I were just finishing preparing the rooms for you.”

Again, no mention of a servant. It was beginning to look as if there truly were no servants after all. If that was true, then he was doubly in her debt for agreeing to take them in. And it made him rethink a few things about her, as well.

As he ushered his charges inside, Miss Jacobs bustled down the hall toward them. “Hello, Mr. Tucker. And here are the children. Welcome, welcome. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you ever since I heard you were coming.”

Simon wondered how two such different women could get along under the same roof. Miss Jacobs seemed as approachable as Mrs. Pierce was aloof.

As the last of the children entered, he stepped forward to make the introductions. “Kids, this is Mrs. Pierce, the nice lady who has opened her home to us. And this is her friend, Miss Jacobs, who also lives here.”

They all nodded and there were a few mumbled hellos. Simon quickly went down the line, introducing the children one by one.

When he was done, Mrs. Pierce gave them a reserved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you all. Welcome to my home.”

“Are you a queen?” Molly asked.

To give her credit, their hostess didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “No, I’m not,” was her only response.

Joey, apparently emboldened by Molly’s question, turned to Miss Jacobs. “Why are you so short?” he asked.

“Joey!” Simon was caught off guard by the boy’s artlessly uttered and much-too-personal question. Would Miss Jacobs be insulted?

But the woman merely smiled at the young boy. “I reckon God made me this way because He knew how much I love being around young’uns. It makes me feel closer to kids than to grown-ups.”

Miss Jacobs shifted her gaze to include all the children in her next comment. “And I’d be right grateful if you children would call me Nana Dovie while you’re here. It’s what my own daughter calls me.”

Yep, these were definitely two very different women.

Joey wasn’t done with his questions, though. He turned to Mrs. Pierce. “Do you have a dog?”

This time the widow frowned slightly. “I do not.” There was definitely a tone of “and I don’t want one” in her voice. And there was also no offer to let the kids call her by an endearing name.

“When we get to Hatcherville,” the boy said proudly, “Gee-Gee says I can get a dog.”

“Gee-Gee?” Mrs. Pierce cast him a questioning glance.

“It’s what the children call Miss Fredrick,” Simon explained. “Her first name is Georgina.”

Mrs. Pierce nodded, then turned to Joey. “I’m sure that will be very nice.” Then she turned back to Simon. “The rooms are ready for you and your charges. I hope the children won’t mind doubling up.”

“They’re used to sharing,” Simon assured her. “Their former home wasn’t nearly as grand as this one and they had much tighter sleeping arrangements.” He’d seen their bedrooms, crowded with bunk beds like a cramped dormitory. It was one of the reasons Miss Fredrick planned this move. “Do you have a specific way you’d like to assign the rooms or are you leaving it up to us?”

“I have put you and the boys in three rooms on the third floor,” the widow responded. “The girls will be in three rooms on the second floor with me and Miss Jacobs.”

He nodded. “An excellent arrangement. If you’ll show us the way, we’ll get everyone settled in.” He paused. “By the way, I asked the young man over at the train depot to have our bags delivered here so they should be arriving soon.” Most of the kids’ belongings, along with all the household items, had been sent on ahead to Hatcherville, but luckily Miss Fredrick had seen that they each had a change of clothing packed for the trip. At least clothing wouldn’t be a problem for the next few days.

He wished the same were true about everything else to do with this setback.

* * *

Eileen led the way up the stairs, trying her best to remain composed. Seeing all those children up close was more than a little overwhelming. The questions the two youngest had asked had bordered on impertinence. They were little more than toddlers, of course, but her mother and instructors had always insisted one was never too young to learn good manners.

She certainly hoped Mr. Tucker had told the truth when he said they were well behaved. Of course, the conditional that he’d tagged on about their age hadn’t inspired her with much confidence.

These visitors seemed impressed with her home, but they were about to see how starkly furnished their rooms were. What would they think? Of course, one could hardly expect children to be discriminating in such matters. But Mr. Tucker was a different matter. And she found his opinion did matter.

When they reached the second floor, she turned to Dovie. “Would you please help the girls get settled in while I show Mr. Tucker and the boys to the third floor?”

“Of course.” Dovie smiled at the girls. “I’ll let you all decide how you want to pair up and then we’ll pick out rooms for everyone.”

Eileen led the way up the stairs to the third floor. A part of her envied Dovie’s easy manner with the children. It might not be dignified, but the children seemed better able to relate to her. Then she mentally took herself to task. As her mother had often drilled into her, Paylors always maintained their dignity and composure, no matter what.

As they stepped onto the landing she felt the need to apologize. “These rooms haven’t seen any use in the past two years. Miss Jacobs and I aired them out but they may still be a bit musty.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” Mr. Tucker looked around and she watched him closely for signs of judgment. To her relief, he seemed to see nothing amiss.

“Do you have a preference for who gets which room?” he asked.

Good—they were going to keep things businesslike. “The three on this end have been made ready—you may assign them however you wish.”

With a nod he turned to the boys. “Harry and Russ, you two take the far room. Albert, you and Joey can have the middle one. And I’ll take the one nearest the stairs.”

The doorbell sounded and Mr. Tucker turned back to her with a smile. “That’s probably our bags.” He waved to the two older boys. “Harry, Russell, come help me get everything carted upstairs.”

“We’re coming, too,” the one he’d called Albert said.

“Yeah, we’re coming, too,” Joey said with a great deal of bravado.

To Eileen’s surprise, Mr. Tucker merely grinned at this bit of assertiveness. “All right, men, the more hands, the lighter the load I always say.”

By the time they made it to the first floor, Dovie had already opened the door to their caller. As Mr. Tucker had predicted, it was Lionel from the train depot.

As soon as Lionel saw Mr. Tucker over Dovie’s shoulder he straightened. “I brought your things, Mr. Tucker, just like you asked. It’s all on the wagon—I’ll get it unloaded in a snap.” He reached into his pocket. “And I brought this telegram that came for you, too.”

Eileen stiffened slightly. Mr. Tucker was already getting telegrams here? It certainly hadn’t taken him long to make himself at home.

She watched as he sent the four boys to help Lionel unload the cart, and then unfolded the piece of paper.

Whatever the news, he didn’t appear to like it. Had he received more bad news on top of today’s events?

* * *

Simon stared at the very terse telegram he’d received in response to the one he’d sent Miss Fredrick’s brother.



KEEP ME APPRISED

W. FREDRICK



Apparently Wilbur Fredrick didn’t intend to rush to his sister’s bedside. Simon didn’t understand that—he would have given anything to have had that opportunity with Imogene, to have been able to have a few last words with her before she passed on.

He refolded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. Perhaps this was his fault. Maybe he hadn’t made it clear just how serious Miss Fredrick’s condition was. Should he send another telegram?

He glanced up and caught Mrs. Pierce watching him, a hint of sympathy in her expression. But she immediately turned away, her demeanor once more aloof, and he wondered if he’d merely imagined it.

Lionel and the boys deposited the first load of baggage just then and went back for more. Before he could join them, the girls were trooping downstairs to investigate what was going on. So Simon pushed aside thoughts of Wilbur Fredrick, and Mrs. Pierce’s show of concern, to ponder at a quieter time.

He joined the “menfolk” unloading the wagon and they managed to get the remaining items in one more load.

Once everything was deposited in the entry hall, he dismissed Lionel with a coin and his thanks. When he turned back, the children were already digging into the pile with noisy enthusiasm as well as a bit of good-natured shoving, each looking for their own items. Mrs. Pierce cringed and drew back into herself. Was it the noise level or the overall chaos that bothered her more?

Then she straightened. “Children, please.” Her voice, while not loud or strident, carried the ring of authority, and the children closest to her paused in their scrambling to look her way.

“Quiet, please.” This time her voice carried to the rest of the children, and everyone turned to stare at her in surprise.

“There is no need for this unruly behavior. You are all old enough to know how to conduct yourselves in a more orderly fashion.”

Simon frowned. This might be her home, but she couldn’t expect the children to act like miniature versions of herself. “Mrs. Pierce, I believe what you are seeing is enthusiasm rather than unruly behavior.”

“One can be excited and show decorum at the same time.” She turned to the children. “Now, starting with the oldest and the youngest, step forward and find your things. Then take them up to your room.”

Fern stepped forward stiffly. “Yes, ma’am.” She held out a hand. “Come on, Molly, I’ll help you find your things.”

To Simon’s surprise, the children followed her instructions, and two by two, with one of the older children helping one of the younger ones, they each collected their things and headed up the stairs. There was no more horseplay and very little chatter, and the task was accomplished in short order.

Okay, so maybe her way was effective, but it certainly hadn’t done anything to make the children feel more at ease here.

He glanced Miss Jacobs’s way. She was observing in silence. Did she agree with Mrs. Pierce’s approach? Or was she just hesitant to disagree with the woman who was, after all, her landlady?

When the last of the children had headed upstairs, Mrs. Pierce turned to him. Was that a glint of triumph peeking out from her serene expression?

“I realize this is your home,” he said before she could comment, “but I would appreciate it if you would give the children a bit of latitude. They’ve been through quite a bit.”

She appeared unmoved. “They have my sympathy, of course, and I understand they are anxious. But I believe maintaining discipline is for their good as well as that of those around them. It gives them a sense of order that can be a comfort when the rest of their world appears to be falling apart around them.”

Did she truly believe that? “They also need the chance to work off some of their pent-up energy.”

“Within the proper parameters.” Then she waved a hand. “Are these last few bags yours?”

He swallowed his response and accepted her change of subject. “That brown duffel is mine and the trunk contains my tools. The smaller trunk belongs to Miss Fredrick.” He furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “It seems pointless to cart the heavy tool trunk up two flights of stairs, especially since I’ll need most of the tools down here if I’m going to do some work on your place while I’m here. Is there somewhere down here where I could store it?”

She hesitated a long moment—so long that he thought about withdrawing his request.

But then she drew her shoulders back and nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”

He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but something in her demeanor made him wonder if there was more going through her mind than simply finding him some storage space.

Without a word, she led him down the hall and around a corner. They went down another shorter hallway until she finally stopped in front of a closed door. Taking a deep breath, she threw the door open and indicated he should precede her inside.

He stepped into a darkened room that, from the musty smell, hadn’t seen use in some time. It had a definite masculine feel to it and was dominated by a massive desk.

She crossed the room and pulled open the curtains, letting in some much-needed light. It was only then that he noticed that the only piece of furniture in the room was that desk, which he could now see was finely crafted and graced with some fine parquetry work.

The walls were bare, although there were indications that several large paintings had hung in here at one time. The built-in bookcases that flanked the fireplace were also empty. And there was a thin layer of dust over everything. But the paneling and richly carved woodwork spoke of bygone elegance.

“This was my husband’s study,” she said, “but as you can see, it is no longer in use.” She folded her hands lightly in front of her, and he thought he detected a slight tremble, though it might have been only his imagination. “You may store your things in here for as long as you are in residence.”

It seemed a bit grand to be used as a storage room, but it wasn’t his place to question her choice. “Thank you. I’ll get one of the boys to help me carry the trunk in here later.” He could also store Miss Fredrick’s things here.

She looked around. “I apologize for the state you find it in.”

Other than a bit of a musty feel, he didn’t see anything that required an apology. “No need. And I certainly don’t expect you to go to any trouble on my account.”

She nodded and continued to stare at the room as if picturing it differently. Was she remembering her husband seated in here? Did she still mourn him? The temptation to move to her side to comfort her was strong. He’d actually taken a step forward when she suddenly straightened.

“If that is all,” she said, “I have a few matters to attend to.”

Not sure if he was more relieved or bothered that she’d unknowingly forestalled his impulse, he gave a short bow. “Of course. I’ll get the last of the baggage cleared from your entryway.” As they shut the door behind them, he added. “I’ll encourage the children to either nap or entertain themselves quietly in their rooms for the next hour so you shouldn’t be interrupted by any of them.”

She gave another of her regal nods and they retraced their steps in silence. When they arrived back at the foot of the stairway she excused herself and headed into the parlor. Was she still thinking of her deceased husband?

Simon watched her go—elegant posture, graceful movements, unhurried pace. He should have told Molly that yes indeed, a queen did live in this palace-of-a-home.

But he had the feeling that Eileen Pierce was a very sad and lonely ruler of her faltering domain. The question was, did she realize it, and if so, did she want to change things?


Chapter Five (#ulink_6a3bb1d7-03a1-5fe3-80c6-62a7063cedf2)

Eileen sat in the parlor, working on a bit of embroidery. Stepping into Thomas’s study had conjured up memories not only of her husband but also of all her past sins. How could she have been so blissfully blind to what she’d been doing to him, of how much her extravagances had cost him, not just in money, but in his integrity and sense of honor? He had paid with his life. Her justly deserved penance was to have been brought low.

The house had grown quiet at last—there’d been no sounds from upstairs for the past ten minutes and even Mr. Tucker and Dovie had disappeared into their own rooms.

So far, things appeared to be working out moderately well. It had been hectic for a while but the children had responded appropriately to her authority. Now that she’d set the proper tone, perhaps the worst was behind them. As long as Dovie and Mr. Tucker took most of the responsibility for actually dealing with the children, and she was left to just play hostess, she was certain they could get through these next few days just fine.

She stilled. What was that noise? Had Mr. Tucker decided to come back down? This unexpected zing of anticipation she felt whenever he was near, or she even believed he was approaching, was new to her. And it was affecting her ability to maintain her impassive facade.

Then she heard the sound again and she realized it had to be one of the children. Ignoring the little stab of disappointment, she set her sewing aside. She couldn’t have the children roaming around her home unattended. Then again, what if the child needed something? Would she be up to handling whatever it was on her own?

But she was the lady of the house and she had responsibilities to her guests. Rising, Eileen moved into the hall and stopped when she saw the youngest child—Molly, was it?—coming down the stairs. The little girl was dragging her doll forlornly behind her and had her right hand on the banister.

As soon as she saw Eileen, she stilled.

Eileen stared at her uncertainly. “Shouldn’t you be taking a nap?” she asked.

Molly pulled her doll forward and hugged it tightly. “Gee-Gee always rocks me before I go to sleep.”

Why did the child think it important to tell her this?

“But Gee-Gee is sick,” the little girl added in a mournful tone.

Eileen felt her heart soften. “That’s right. And I’m certain, when she gets better, Gee-Gee will be happy to rock you again.”

The little girl studied her with disconcerting intensity. “Will you rock me?”

Eileen was both touched and thrown off-kilter by the child’s request. What did she know about such motherly activities? But something inside her ached to try. Then common sense reasserted itself. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a rocking chair,” she told the child. “Why don’t you just go on back up to your room and lie down. I’m sure—”

“I want to be rocked.” The little girl’s mouth was now set in a stubborn line.

Eileen looked around. Where were Dovie and Mr. Tucker? They were so much better equipped than she to handle an obstinate child. “I told you, I don’t have a rocking chair. But—”

“I want to be rocked.” There was almost a wail in Molly’s voice this time and she rubbed her eyes with her fist.

Gracious, was she about to cry? That just would not do. Then Eileen remembered the porch swing. It wasn’t a rocking chair but it might serve to calm her down.

“All right,” she said quickly. “I think I have a suitable compromise.”

The little girl’s expression changed from pouty displeasure to uncertainty. “What’s a com-prize?”

“Compromise,” Eileen corrected. “It means I don’t have a rocker but I have something I think will work just as well.” She nodded toward the front door. “But we’ll have to go outside.”

“Okay.” Molly, now all smiles, came down the last three stairs and held out her hand.

Surprised by the trusting gesture, Eileen hesitated for just a moment, then accepted the girl’s small, pudgy hand into her own. Together they exited the house and Eileen led her to the porch swing.

When Molly saw it, she giggled in delight. “A big rocker swing. I like your com-prize.”

“Compromise,” Eileen corrected again, but more gently this time. She sat down on the swing and the little girl scrambled up into her lap.

As Eileen set the swing gently into motion, Molly snuggled down more comfortably in her lap, leaned her head against Eileen’s chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth again. A happy sigh escaped her as she cuddled her rag doll.

Placing her arms around the child, Eileen felt something deep inside her stir to life.

* * *

“This is my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” Fern’s eyes were wide, her tone bordering on hysteria.

“You were tired.” Simon kept his tone matter-of-fact, trying to keep her from panicking. “And I’m sure Molly hasn’t gone far.”

“That Mrs. Pierce lady scared her. I don’t think she even wants us here.” Fern was obviously looking for someone to blame. “Maybe we should find someplace else to stay.”

He was surprised by how strongly the urge to defend Mrs. Pierce kicked in. “Fern, this is Mrs. Pierce’s home, which means she’s allowed to make the rules. She’s just not accustomed to being around children, especially as large a group as we have. Give her time to get used to you all and she’ll come around. Besides there is no other place, unless you want everyone to be split up.”

Simon ushered the agitated girl out of the bedchamber and toward the stairs. He’d checked in on all the kids a few moments ago, just to assure himself they were settling in okay, when he’d discovered Molly’s bed was empty.

He’d crossed the room to see if Molly was hiding somewhere. Unfortunately Fern, who was the toddler’s roommate, had awakened. And now she was blaming herself. Truth was, Simon knew this was his fault. He should have made certain they all knew to stay in their rooms until the clock chimed the hour.

“Maybe we should just call out for her,” Fern suggested. “Sometimes she likes to hide.”

Simon shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t want to wake the others and get them worried unless we need to. I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. Let’s just look around a bit first.”

He and Fern checked the corners and niches on the second floor then headed downstairs. “Can you think of something she likes to do or someplace she likes to go that would give us a clue where to look?” Simon asked. Regrettably, he didn’t know enough about Molly or any of these kids to figure it out for himself.

“She might try to find the kitchen if she was thirsty.” Fern’s tone was doubtful.

“All right. You check the kitchen—down that way I believe—and I’ll see if Mrs. Pierce is still in the parlor to find out if she’s seen her.”

Fern nodded and took off at a sprint.

He’d already turned in the opposite direction, How would the widow feel about the interruption? Would she help in the search or lecture them on discipline? Not that he minded squaring off with her under less troubling circumstances—getting a rise out of her was actually quite entertaining.

When he looked in the parlor he found it disappointingly empty. He even checked behind the sofa and softly called Molly’s name to make sure the little girl wasn’t hiding.

When he stepped back out in the hallway he noticed the front door was slightly ajar. Molly was too small, of course, to open the heavy wooden door. But if someone else had left it open...

He quickly crossed to the entryway, pushed open the screen door and stepped out on the porch. He could see the front gate was closed, which eased one worry at least. Perhaps she—

A movement he’d caught from the corner of his eye grabbed his attention.

There, on a porch swing that he hadn’t even noticed when they arrived earlier, sat Mrs. Pierce with a sleeping Molly cuddled on her lap. And the widow had the sweetest, gentlest smile on her face, for all the world as if Molly were her own beloved child. The soft expression transformed her, turned her from an ice queen to an achingly sweet image of maternal devotion.

Then Fern came up behind him and he heard her quick intake of breath. Before he could stop her, the girl gave vent to her feelings.

“What are you doing with Molly?” There was outrage and accusation in the girl’s tone.

Mrs. Pierce stiffened and the softness disappeared from her expression. In its place a cooler, more impersonal facade settled in. Simon felt a physical sense of loss at the transformation.

“The child insisted on being rocked.” Her tone was dispassionate. “It was this or let her wake the house with her crying.”

“You should have called me.” Fern marched forward. “I know how to take care of her.”

Simon knew Fern was still rattled by Molly’s unexpected disappearance, but rudeness was never a proper response. “Apologize for taking that tone with Mrs. Pierce,” he said quietly but firmly.

Fern threw him a defiant look, but he kept his gaze locked to hers and his expression firm. After a moment she turned back to Mrs. Pierce. “I’m sorry.” But her tone was anything but contrite. She stiffly bent down to take Molly from Mrs. Pierce’s arms.

“As you wish.” Mrs. Pierce smoothed her skirt across her now-empty lap, then stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my needlework.”

Simon wanted to let her know that he appreciated her tenderness with the toddler, that Fern hadn’t really meant what she’d said. But the kids had to be his first concern right now. So he settled for giving her a quick thank-you.

She acknowledged it with a frosty nod, barely pausing as she stepped past him into the house. The ice queen had returned with a vengeance.

He turned back to Fern, careful to keep his irritation out of his voice. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to put Molly to bed.” That touch of defiance had returned.

He stepped in front of her. “Give her to me.” When she balked, he gave an exasperated shake of his head. “She’s too heavy for you to carry up the stairs. Once I’ve got her in bed, you can tuck her in and fuss over her all you want.”

With a reluctant nod, Fern handed a still-slumbering Molly over. The three-year-old was definitely a sound sleeper. Simon crossed the foyer to the staircase, noting that Mrs. Pierce had returned to the parlor and had her head bent over her sewing. She was as composed as if nothing had just happened. If Fern’s tone had upset her there was no sign of it.

Simon quickly carried the little girl up the stairs and placed her in her bed. Then he left Fern to tend to her while he headed back downstairs to see the widow.

He had some fence-mending to do on Fern’s behalf.


Chapter Six (#ulink_baadb928-2501-511f-a116-4f85d934e31c)

Eileen stabbed the needle through the fabric, trying to keep her hands from trembling.

She had gotten used to being something of a social outcast in Turnabout these past two years. But to have that same distrust and dislike focused on her from the eyes of this newcomer, a child no less, was altogether unnerving. It had stung more than she cared to admit.

And all the more so because she’d let her guard down with Molly. She would need to remember these people were just temporary guests in her home. Getting attached to any of them was not to be allowed.

As for Mr. Tucker, she hadn’t been able to tell what he thought. He’d wrested an apology from Fern, but other than that, he’d shown no sign of what he was thinking.

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but knew that to be a lie.

She looked up when she heard a tap at the parlor door frame. Mr. Tucker stood there watching her. Had he just walked up or had he been there awhile? It bothered her that he might have been watching her without her realizing it.

“May I come in for a moment?” he asked.

Was he here to take her to task as Fern had? Well, she was prepared now; she would not be caught unawares a second time.

Placing her sewing in her lap, Eileen nodded permission.

He smiled diffidently as he moved farther into the room. “I wanted to apologize on Fern’s behalf. I’m sorry if she seemed rude—she was just worried about Molly.”

Some of her tension eased at his obvious sincerity. But it seemed to her that Fern should do her own apologizing. “I was not harming the child.” Had she managed to keep the hurt from her voice?

“Of course not. In fact, I appreciate the attention you were giving her. Molly seemed quite comfortable there with you.”

And she had been surprisingly comfortable holding the child. It was the first time she’d been in that position, and it had left her aching more than ever from the knowledge that she would never have a child of her own. “Molly was insistent that she be rocked before she could sleep— humoring her was a simple enough thing. As for Fern, she should know better than to take such a tone with an adult. It appears your Miss Fredrick was not big on teaching the children manners.”

“It’s been a rough day for them, and they’re only children.” He’d frowned at her words, but his tone remained calm. “One can’t expect them to react with the control of an adult.”

“I disagree.” Her teachers had gone to great lengths to school her on the correct behavior for a young lady of breeding. It was only when she had proven that she could conduct herself with proper decorum that she had been allowed to dine with adults or join them in the parlor, and then only on special occasions.

“Still and all,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “it was very good of you to comfort Molly.”

Eileen deliberately pushed away thoughts of the little girl’s snuggling presence in her lap. She might not have the makings of a good mother, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have maternal longings. “One does what is needed.”

To her relief, the doorbell sounded, putting an end to their current discussion. She rose from her seat, setting the sewing aside. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see who is at the door. And I’m sure you have matters of your own to see to, as well.”

He stepped back as she exited the parlor, but rather than following her pointed hint, he trailed along behind her. Was he just curious? Or was he expecting someone?

When she opened the door, Regina Barr and her housekeeper, Mrs. Peavy, stood there holding cloth-covered baskets. It seemed the Ladies Auxiliary had put their promises into action.

She greeted them, then stepped aside. “Please come in.”

“The Ladies Auxiliary worked out a schedule for meals and I made sure we were first up,” Regina said with a smile. “I wanted to get this food to you early so it would be ready whenever the children got hungry.”

“Thank you, that was most considerate.” What time did the children normally eat? She supposed it would be up to her to set the schedule now.

Mr. Tucker stepped forward. “Good afternoon, ladies.” He reached for the baskets. “Let me help you with those.”

“Oh, hello. I’m Reggie Barr, one of Eileen’s neighbors.” Regina waved to her companion. “And this is my friend, Mrs. Peavy.”

Mr. Tucker gave a short bow, then reached for her basket, but she resisted with a smile. “These aren’t heavy.” She waved a hand toward the open door. “But if you’ll help my son Jack with the rest, I’d be most obliged.”

Eileen glanced outside to see Jack standing at the foot of the porch with a small wagon containing two large hampers.

As Mr. Tucker stepped outside, Eileen turned to the women. “You can set your baskets down on the dining room table.”

But Regina shook her head. “Nonsense, we can carry these to the kitchen for you.”

Mr. Tucker returned with the two hampers, and Jack was right behind him with a smaller basket. Eileen didn’t have any choice but to lead the small procession to the kitchen. At least that room was not expected to be lavishly furnished, so perhaps they’d see nothing amiss.

As they walked, Regina described the contents of the baskets. “We have a sliced ham, some squash, butter beans, fresh-baked bread and two pecan pies.” She grinned. “I figured with ten kids and three adults to feed, you’d be needing a goodly quantity.”

“That will make a fine meal,” Eileen said. Actually, it sounded a veritable feast. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had ham.

“Tomorrow,” Regina continued, “Hortense Peters promises to deliver a basket of fresh eggs in the morning along with a generous length of summer sausage. And Eunice is going to bring over a roast with some vegetables that should be enough to take care of your noon and evening meals.”

Eileen nodded. Eunice Ortolon might be a gossipy busybody but there was no denying she was a great cook. “I’m certain the children will be quite grateful for your generosity.” It seemed as long as the children were under her roof she would be eating well. An unexpected benefit.

Mr. Tucker set his things down, brushing closely past her. Had he done that on purpose?

He made a short bow in Regina’s direction. “Absolutely, ma’am. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful we are to have fallen among such kind and generous folk.”

Regina smiled, obviously not immune to the warmth of his tone, either. Then she turned to include Eileen in her comments. “And don’t you worry. We have folks lined up to take care of your meals for as many days as you need us to.”

Eileen was getting hungry just smelling the tempting aromas coming from the hampers. She hadn’t eaten such fine fare in some time—meat was a rare treat indeed.

Regina sent a subtle signal to Mrs. Peavy, and the older woman made her exit, taking Jack with her. Then she turned to Mr. Tucker. “Thank you so much for your assistance getting these inside. I’ll just help Eileen get everything put away before I go.”

This time Mr. Tucker took the not-very-subtle hint. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I’ll leave you ladies to it. I think I’ll check in on Molly to make sure she stays put this time.” He gave Regina another of those warm smiles. “Thanks again for the food, ma’am.”

Once he’d gone, Eileen turned to Regina. “It’s really not necessary for you to stay and help me. You’ve done enough already.” She really wasn’t comfortable having people poking around in her cupboards and closets.

Regina opened one of the hampers. “I don’t mind. And there’s something else I wanted to say.”

Eileen steeled herself. Was Regina, like Miss Ortolon, concerned with her suitability to house young children? Was this to be some sort of advice or condition set down for her?

But there was no hint of censure in Regina’s expression. “Daisy and I discussed how children can be hard on dishes, and it didn’t seem right that you should bear the brunt of that. So she sent over some of the plates from her restaurant that have seen a bit too much wear and that she was ready to take out of service. I hope you don’t mind. They have some small chips and cracks but are still serviceable.”

Regina seemed to sense her hesitation. “If you’d rather not use them, that’s okay, too. But Daisy wanted me to assure you that either way she doesn’t need them back—she was ready to replace them anyway.”

Had these women suspected her true circumstances and decided to offer her charity? That was a lowering thought, but Eileen couldn’t afford to turn down the offer. She hadn’t given much thought to place settings, but she’d be hard-pressed to set a table for the ten children, much less the full complement of thirteen now residing here.

First towels, now dishes. Was she forgetting anything else?

At least Regina had worded the offer in a way that left Eileen with some of her dignity intact. She nodded matter-of-factly. “I had not considered the added wear and tear these children could have on my things. I will have to thank Daisy when next I see her.”

Regina touched her arm lightly. “I know you were put on the spot earlier. And given all that’s occurred the past couple of years, it was mighty generous of you to open your home to these folks. If you need any help at all in the coming days, you know where I live. Don’t hesitate to fetch me.”

Eileen was surprised by the genuine warmness of the gesture. Was this the start of a thawing of the community toward her? Or would the friendly overtures disappear as soon as her houseguests departed?

* * *

Once Regina took her leave, Eileen made quick work of unloading the various baskets and hampers. Dovie joined her just as she emptied the last one.

“Goodness, but isn’t this all a welcome sight. I don’t mind saying I’m not a bit sorry we won’t need to rustle up supper from scratch for all these folks.”

Eileen folded her hands in front of her. “I’ll admit I don’t know how much children eat, but there seems to be enough here to feed us all.”

Dovie peered inside the various bowls and pots. “I agree—this should be more than enough. There might even be some ham left over to serve with breakfast in the morning. I’ll get the stove stoked. We can set these things on the warming rack so it’ll all be heated through when we’re ready for it.”

Eileen glanced up toward the ceiling. “How much longer do you think the children will nap?”

“I imagine some of them are awake already, if they slept at all. It’s been an emotional day for them and different children will react differently to that.”

Emotional—Eileen didn’t like the sounds of that. Orderly and obedient—that’s how children should behave.

But Dovie was still speaking. “As to your question, Mr. Tucker instructed them to stay in their rooms for at least an hour.” She grinned. “I imagine it was as much to give you a reprieve as to let the children rest.”

Eileen relaxed, pleased that he might have indeed been thinking of her feelings. And it seemed there was an expectation that the children were at least able to quietly amuse themselves. Good. “That being the case, I don’t suppose they’ll have the energy for much activity the rest of the day.”

Dovie shook her head sympathetically. “You really don’t know much about children, do you, dear?”

Eileen didn’t like the condescending tone. “I remember my own childhood quite well.”

The older woman gave her a long, considering look, and it was all Eileen could do not to fidget under that gaze.

“Don’t you remember how hard it was to sit still for long periods?” Dovie finally asked. “You can’t expect them to stay in their rooms all afternoon. An hour or two, yes, but no more. Children need activity to keep them from getting restless.”

Eileen disagreed. It was merely a matter of training and discipline. Most of her childhood, at least that part after her father’s death when she was five, had been spent with boarding school teachers in quiet, educational pursuits. Those teachers had believed in the adage that children should be seen and not heard, and they had vigorously drilled their students on matters of etiquette, deportment and other matters of social acceptance.

But if indeed these children had not been trained properly, she would have to find other solutions. If she hadn’t had to sell her pianoforte or stereopticon she could have entertained them in a decorous, proper style. She’d also sold most of her books and her husband’s finely carved chess set. There was nothing even remotely appropriate for entertaining company of any age left in her home.

Dovie startled her by patting her hand. “Don’t worry,” the woman said. “Children are easily entertained. Just leave it to me.”

“And so I shall. In the meantime, I should take care of organizing our meal.”

Just as Dovie had predicted, thirty minutes later there were sounds of stirring from the upstairs rooms. When Eileen stepped into the hallway a few minutes later, she saw Dovie leading the entire group of children into the parlor. Curious as to what the woman was planning, Eileen followed, as well.

Dovie knelt down next to the low table in front of the sofa and signaled the children to gather around. “I want to show you a game my mother used to play with me.” She untied the cloth and spread it open with all the flair of a pirate revealing his treasure. The children all pressed closer to get better looks.

Eileen couldn’t resist taking a step forward herself. Peering over the children’s heads, she identified a thimble, coin, needle, spoon, button, pumpkin seed, pecan, twig, two rocks, a hairpin, hat pin, chalk, a bit of ribbon, a candle stub, a feather and a spool.

“Now, I want everyone to study all these items very closely,” Dovie said solemnly. “In a moment you’re going to turn around, and I’ll mix them up and take one away. Then we’ll see who can be first to figure out what’s missing.”

The children immediately leaned in closer to study the contents intently.

Eileen was amazed. Dovie had managed to capture their attention with very little effort. And with such a simple device.

“It looks like she’s in her element, doesn’t it?”

Eileen turned to find Mr. Tucker at her side, his gaze on Dovie and the children.

“Very much so,” she agreed.

He turned to her. “If you don’t mind, perhaps we can step into the hall to talk for a moment?”

“Of course.” What did he want to discuss? Had she done something he didn’t approve of?

“I want you to know that I meant what I said about taking care of any maintenance or repair work that needs tending to while I’m here.”

Some of her tension eased as she settled back into her lady-of-the-manor role. “As it happens, there are a few things that could use some attention.”

“Good. If you’ll let me know what you think are the most pressing tasks, I’ll start figuring out how to best tackle them.”

Eileen didn’t have to think about it. “The gutters require a good cleaning and there are a few loose rails on the back porch.”

He nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Is there anything else?”

Surprised he hadn’t balked, even a little, she added another item to the list. “Since we’ll need to do more cooking than usual and heat more wash water and more rooms, there’s the matter of firewood.”

“Of course. I’ve split many a cord in my day.”

“You may need to gather the wood as well as split it.”

“Understood. Why don’t you show me the porch rails you’re concerned about now so I have a better idea of what’s needed?”

Relieved that he didn’t seem overly concerned by her requests, she nodded. “Of course. This way.”

As she led the way to the back of the house and out the kitchen door, she was very aware of him walking beside her. What was wrong with her today? She’d never let herself be distracted by such feelings before. Nor even admitted that she had them.

They stepped out onto the back porch, and she immediately put some distance between them. Moving to the far end of the porch, she pointed out the loose railings. “These three spindles and a couple of the ones lining the steps, as well.”

Mr. Tucker followed her and examined the rails in question more closely. “I’ll need to replace at least one of these, maybe more, but it shouldn’t be difficult to do. And I might as well check all the other spindles while I’m at it.”

It would be such a relief to have those things taken care of. Perhaps he could even get a little ahead on the firewood so she wouldn’t have to buy so much when winter set in.

He stepped down onto the lawn and looked up at the roofline, rubbing his chin. “I have my own tools with me, of course. But I’m going to need a ladder for getting up to those gutters.” He glanced her way. “And an ax for chopping firewood.”

She waved a hand toward a structure at the far end of her property. “I believe you’ll find what you need in the carriage house. Feel free to look around in there and make use of whatever you need.” The carriage had been one of the first things she’d sold off. The only thing she used the structure for these days was as a storage shed and a place to keep her gardening implements.

“I’ll check it out first thing in the morning.” He took a long, slow look around her property. “I could get the boys to rake up these leaves for you, too, if you’d like.”

“That would be appreciated.” She was beginning to feel as if she were taking advantage of him. She hadn’t expected him to work for his keep.

“Good. It’ll give them something to focus on besides Miss Fredrick’s situation.”

She wondered what he was really thinking about the state of her home and property. It had to be painfully obvious to him that she hadn’t been able to take care of the place as she ought for some time now.

But his next comment indicated nothing of the sort. “It appears you have quite a garden,” he said.

She felt her cheeks warm in pleasure. “It’s done well this year. There’s not much left to it right now, but I should still be able to harvest a few things from my fall planting until first frost.”

“You take care of it yourself?”

Was that surprise in his expression? She tilted her chin up. “I do. Though Dovie helps.” Truth to tell, she actually enjoyed working her garden. What had been a pleasant hobby in the past had turned into a means of survival. Many was the day the only thing she ate for her meals was what she’d harvested from her garden. And she’d learned to preserve what she didn’t need for her immediate sustenance so that she could stretch her bounty even further. It was surprising, the sense of accomplishment she felt at having vegetables she’d grown and harvested herself in her pantry.

He nodded. “Miss Jacobs seems like a fine person. And I can tell she knows how to deal with children.”

Unlike her—was that what he was thinking? And was he assuming Dovie did most of the gardening, as well?

She turned and moved back toward the door, feeling suddenly rattled by all these unaccustomed thoughts. Time to take control of the conversation again. “Speaking of the children, perhaps we can discuss what sort of routine they are accustomed to. And then determine what routine will work best while they are here.”





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/winnie-griggs/her-holiday-family/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.