Sawyer (Bachelors And Babies Book 6) Read online

  “I notice you arrived to the church service late and left early. Care to explain that?”

  She hated having everything she did come under suspicion. “It’s easier on Henry not to feel the weight of everyone’s dislike and suspicion.”

  Again he took his time mulling over her words. His gaze held hers, as if he was trying to find the truth of her in her eyes. Finally he nodded. “All right, but I need to set some ground rules.”

  His voice was hard, but she didn’t care. The relief flooding her at his agreement made her almost light-headed. “Of course, whatever you say.”

  “First, we’re going to take this on a day-by-day basis. The moment I find someone else, you’re to leave, no matter how short a notice you have.”

  “Agreed.” Please God, give me at least a few weeks.

  “You should know that Mrs. Martin did indeed find a few qualified candidates. Unfortunately, none of them will be available for a week to ten days’ time, so that’s likely the longest I’ll need you for.”

  She swallowed her disappointment and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Second, I arrive at the mercantile at seven o’clock every morning except Sunday. You should be here thirty minutes before then.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” She was usually up and busy by daybreak anyway.

  “Next, Henry can sleep over, but only if he’s really able to help care for AJ during the night.” His frown had a grumpy edge. “The last thing I need is to have two needy young’uns on my hands.”

  Praise God, was she truly going to get everything she’d hoped for? “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it.”

  He leaned back, his gaze still hard. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  She tried to pull her thoughts together. “Is there anything in particular you want me to take care of around the house while I’m here?”

  For some reason her words seemed to irritate him further. “I’m not looking to hire a housekeeper. Just make sure AJ is properly tended to.”

  “On that you have my word.” She tried to ease some of the tension between them. “Perhaps you can show me how you’re feeding him and where his things are so I’ll be ready to go in the morning?”

  He stood. “Follow me to the kitchen and we’ll start with his feeding. Then I’ll show you the rest.” He turned and walked into the hall without waiting for her response.

  As Emma Jean followed her new employer to the kitchen, she had a new bounce to her step. True, she hadn’t managed to wrest a long-term commitment from him, but she’d gotten her foot in the door, and that was a major victory.

  The next step was to do such a good job that he was less inclined to look for someone new. Besides, she had another reason for wanting this job, even if it was short-lived. Once the community saw that Sawyer had forgiven her enough to hire her, perhaps others would feel the same and she’d get at least some of her laundry customers back. That would go a long way to helping her and Henry make it through the winter.

  And now she could walk into the mercantile when she needed to purchase some staples without worrying about what kind of reception she’d get. Yes, things were starting to look up.

  She stepped into the kitchen to see a cozy family scene. Henry and Katherine were looking at a picture book together. It drove home to her how he’d missed out on having kids his own age to do things with.

  Henry looked up a moment later and glanced quickly from her to Sawyer and back to her. “Does this mean we’re hired?”

  Emma Jean nodded. “Yes.” Then, before he could ask anything else, she added, “We’ll talk about it some more when we get home.”

  Then she turned to Sawyer. “You wanted to show me how to prepare his bottle.”

  He waved toward the counter, then paused and turned to Mrs. Shultz. “Unless you’d prefer to do it?”

  “Not at all.” She reached out to take the baby from Emma Jean. “Come little one, let’s let these two take care of business.”

  Emma Jean watched closely as Sawyer quickly explained how to prepare AJ’s bottle. She noticed he glanced over to Mrs. Shultz once or twice, as if seeking her approval.

  When he’d finished his demonstration, Mrs. Shultz spoke up. “It’s time for AJ’s nap. Why don’t you come with me, Emma Jean, and I’ll show you where his things are?”

  Before she left the room, Mrs. Shultz turned her smile on Sawyer. “It is good that you have some help. And I can already tell Miss Gilley will be good with little Aaron.” She sighed happily. “It will be a real comfort for me to know I’m leaving the baby in such good hands.”

  Emma Jean refrained from looking at Sawyer as she followed the woman from the room. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know how he’d received that pronouncement.

  Mrs. Shultz led her to a room halfway down the hall. As soon as Emma Jean stepped inside, she felt the heat crawl up her neck and into her cheeks.

  She was standing in what could only be Sawyer’s bedchamber.

  Chapter 12

  For a long moment, all Emma Jean could do was look around, taking in all the bits and pieces that Sawyer chose to surround himself with in this most personal of spaces. He apparently liked horses—there was a painting of a stallion hanging on the far wall and a roughly carved wooden horse on his dresser.

  And he also seemed to like order—everything was neat and tidy. Even the bed was made.

  It took Emma Jean a moment to notice the crib set up in the space between the dresser and the bed. Aware Mrs. Shultz was watching her, she cleared her throat. “AJ spends the night in Mr. Flynn’s room?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, I thought it best he get used to tending to the baby as soon as possible.” She moved to the dresser where a cloth satchel sat. “Aaron’s clothing and belongings are in here. I am afraid it is not very much. Before we leave tomorrow, I will encourage Mr. Flynn to get a few more items.”

  Why hadn’t Sawyer bothered to unpack AJ’s things? Surely he could spare one drawer or a shelf for the baby?

  Mrs. Shultz smoothed the crib blanket. “Mr. Flynn seems to be carrying a large weight for a man living alone.”

  Emma Jean hesitated a moment. But the answer to the question the woman hadn’t quite asked was no secret. “His brother was killed this past summer during a robbery.”

  “I see.” The woman stared down at the crib for a long moment before she met Emma Jean’s gaze again. “I understand now why he wants to keep his distance with Aaron.” Her gaze intensified. “You must not let him.”

  Emma Jean grimaced. “I doubt he’ll listen to me on that subject.”

  Mrs. Shultz patted her hand. “Words are not your only tools, my dear. That baby needs him, and now I am certain he needs the baby as well.” And with that she led Emma Jean out of the room.

  Emma Jean was still mulling over those words when they reached the kitchen.

  She paused beside Henry and turned to Sawyer. “Is there anything else I should know before I return in the morning?”

  “No. Just make sure you’re on time.” He sounded like he still wasn’t happy with his decision.

  “We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” She held her hand out. “Come on Henry, time for us to go.”

  He pushed away from the table. “Bye Katherine.” Then he turned to Mrs. Shultz. “Thanks for the pie, ma’am.”

  “Such a polite young man. You are quite welcome. In fact, since there are only two pieces left, I will dish them up for you and your sister to take with you. I already have another pie ready to go in the oven for our dinner this evening.”

  The last thing Emma Jean wanted was to have Sawyer think she was taking anything from him she hadn’t earned. “That’s very kind of you, but we can’t accept.”

  The woman ignored her and continued bustling around the kitchen, wrapping the pie tin in a cloth. “Henry here is a growing boy, and I do love feeding younglings.”

  “But—”

  “For goodness’ sake, just take the pie.” Sawyer’s voic
e had an irritated gruffness to it. “You heard her say she’s going to bake a fresh one. No point in letting this go to waste.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded.

  It seemed she had her work cut out for her if she was going to get Sawyer to accept her as anything other than an infernal Gilley.

  Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck as he watched Emma Jean and Henry leave. It seemed he’d hired the Gilleys despite his determination not to. His only hope now was that the detective would find a maternal relative of AJ’s soon so his life could get back to normal.

  Or as normal as it had been these past few months.

  Emma Jean did seem good with the baby though. And Henry had learned manners somewhere along the way in his young life, which spoke well for the upbringing he’d had to this point. And it had surprised him when she refused that bit of leftover pie—a silly show of pride when she’d all but begged for the job earlier.

  Just what was the truth of Emma Jean Gilley—sinner or saint? Had she knowingly profited from her father’s ill-gotten gains and then used the money for something as impractical as a loom when they apparently had no funds for anything else? Or had her father purchased that loom on his own and sent it as sort of a farewell gift?

  That last seemed unlikely given what he knew of the man.

  But he was beginning to believe the first wasn’t entirely true either. Despite his earlier suspicions about Emma Jean, whenever she was around he had trouble believing she was anything other than the innocent she appeared to be. Something else was going on here, and he didn’t care much for mysteries.

  Perhaps it was time he dug just a little bit deeper.

  Chapter 13

  Emma Jean didn’t sleep well that night.

  She’d spent most of the evening trying to ease Henry’s worries over the part he was to play. A lot depended on his being able to help care for AJ at night, but she tried not to make him feel the weight of that.

  Once he’d gone to bed, she’d checked their store of preserved fruits and vegetables one more time and had come to the same conclusion. Even with a mild winter, it was going to be tough to make things stretch if this job didn’t last longer than a week. She’d have to do whatever gleaning she could from the woods around here. Hopefully the hens would continue to lay for a few more weeks, but getting feed for them was going to take money she didn’t have.

  Emma Jean stared up at the ceiling. She’d be working for Sawyer Flynn, in his house, looking after the child in his care. Even with all the bleakness in her life, she couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow.

  There had been moments this afternoon when he’d seemed to forget she was a Gilley. In fact, there’d been a fleeting instant when she could have sworn she’d seen a glimmer of approval in his expression. Could she possibly look forward to a day when they would be friends again? She knew they could never be more, but if only he’d quit looking at her like she’d pulled that trigger…

  At some point Emma Jean did finally fall asleep, but she was awake before dawn. She dressed quickly, collected the eggs—only two today—and cooked them up for breakfast before waking Henry.

  “Is it true you hired Emma Jean Gilley to watch over the baby for you?”

  “It is.” Sawyer handed Mrs. Cummings her change and closed the till with a bit more force than required. He was getting tired of everyone in town poking their nose in his business. “Now, is there anything else I can get for you?”

  She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Do you think that’s wise? They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And there’s the matter of her purchasing that loom with ill-gotten gains.”

  As far as he was concerned, who he hired was his business and no one else’s. But there was no sense in insulting his customers. “They also say innocent until proven guilty.” Sawyer had been put in the position of defending his decision, and the Gilleys, all morning.

  He had to hand it to Emma Jean though, she’d shown up on time this morning, perhaps even a few minutes early. And she’d gotten right to work. Nothing wrong with her work ethic.

  Truth was, for good or ill, he had hired Emma Jean. Which meant she was now, in a sense, under his protection. She deserved to have him trust her, at least in relation to her job, unless she gave him a reason not to.

  It was time to separate his view of her from his view of her father for as long as she was in his employ.

  He heard the train whistle. The Shultzes were now on their way to Ohio. How was Emma Jean doing on her own? Would she be as industrious with no one there to watch her?

  At noon he closed the store and headed home for lunch, unsure of what he’d find when he arrived.

  As soon as he opened the front door, his senses were assaulted. The aroma of baking bread and something savory wafted through the house. The sound of soft humming and a gurgling baby came from the direction of the kitchen. There were flowers on the small table that sat in front of the parlor window, and the curtains had been pulled back to let in the sunlight.

  How long had it been since the house felt this warm and welcoming?

  He moved to the kitchen and paused on the threshold. AJ was in his basket, which was on the floor near the table. Henry sat cross-legged nearby and held AJ’s rag doll, amusing the baby with it. Emma Jean stirred something on the stove, humming a happy ditty. She was in profile to him, and a few strands of hair had escaped her pins and were curling at the nape of her neck.

  He was suddenly slammed with feelings of how right this happy little domestic scene was, of how fulfilling it would be to come home to this every day. And of how lovely Emma Jean looked with that smile on her lips, and how his fingers itched to touch those wisps of hair on her neck to see if they were as soft as they looked…

  Chapter 14

  “Hello Mr. Flynn.”

  Emma Jean turned at Henry’s greeting, giving Sawyer a bare split second to collect himself.

  “Oh, hello,” she said with a smile. “Please have a seat at the table and I’ll fix you a plate.”

  Irritated at the direction his thoughts had taken, and worse yet that she’d almost caught him staring at her, Sawyer frowned. “I’m perfectly capable of getting my own meals. I told you, I hired you to take care of AJ, not wait on me.”

  She waved him toward the table, apparently not put off by his tone. “I don’t mind. It’ll only take a minute. I hope a sandwich is okay.”

  Sawyer reluctantly took a seat. He didn’t care much for the idea of having her wait on him, but she was already bustling around, getting his lunch ready.

  A moment later she set down a sandwich made with thickly sliced fresh-baked bread, cheese, and some ham left over from yesterday’s supper.

  “I know it’s not much,” she said, “but I was working with what I could find in your pantry.”

  “This is fine. I don’t usually eat much for lunch.” In truth, he’d been skipping lunch lately more often than not.

  She waved in the general direction of the stove. “I’m cooking a stew for supper. And making apple hand pies for dessert.”

  “Sounds good.” And it smelled good too.

  “Which brings up a question.” She nervously wiped her hands on her apron. “Would you like me to do the shopping when I need something for meals or for the baby, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

  Sawyer mentally chastised himself. He should have thought about that before she brought it up. “Make a list of anything you need that I carry at the mercantile and I’ll gather it up. If you need anything from the butcher shop, I’ll let Milt know you can charge against my tab.” Then, just so she knew he was in charge, he cut her a stern look. “I trust you to be conservative in your purchases.”

  She didn’t seem at all put out by his statement. “Of course. I can run it by you before I buy anything if you like.”

  “Not necessary.” He was already regretting his churlish words and changed the subject. “How’s AJ doing this morning?”

  She smiled down at the ba
by indulgently. “He’s been just fine. I do think he’ll be crawling before long.”

  Sawyer grimaced. Maybe his detective would find someone to take over responsibility for AJ before that happened.

  He made short work of his meal, then brought his plate and glass to the sink. He glanced out the window, then paused. “The sky’s clabbering up out there. Looks like we might be in for a bit of rain this afternoon.”

  His words proved to be prophetic. By the time he closed up the mercantile that afternoon, the rain was slashing down. It had turned considerably cooler too—a reminder that it was November now. Sawyer drew his rain slicker higher up on his neck and pulled his hat low on his forehead. In the few minutes it took him to race the three blocks to his house, the legs of his pants were soaked.

  He paused on the porch to take off his hat and slicker and placed them on one end of the bench that sat beside the front door. Then he dropped down on the other end and tugged off his boots. Before he’d quite finished, the front door opened.

  “I thought I heard someone out here.” Emma Jean stepped out and handed him a large towel. “Looks like you could use this.”

  “Thanks.” He was surprised to find the towel was warm, as if it had been placed near the fire.

  While he finished tugging off his left boot, she turned and stared out at the storm, rubbing her forearms. She had faraway, almost lost look about her.

  “Do storms bother you?”

  She shook her head but kept her eyes focused on the storm. “Actually, I like the rain itself.” She waved a hand. “I like the sound it makes when it hits the tin roof over my bedchamber at home—nature’s lullaby.” She lifted her face. “And I like the way it smells when it’s almost but not quite here yet. You know, that really sharp, clean smell, as if nature is already anticipating the shower it’ll receive.