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  “Hello there,” he said, claiming her attention. “I’m headed over to the sawmill. Want to come along and get a look at the other end of town?”

  She paused and he saw her flex her fingers. How long had she been at this?

  “No, thank you. There are still a few things I’d like to get done here before supper.”

  Definitely much too serious and industrious. “Suit yourself.”

  “But speaking of supper,” she said before he could turn away, “I was wondering—what time do you usually eat your evening meal?”

  Was she already hungry? “Normally around five-thirty or so, but we can go early if you want to. I take most of my meals at Daisy’s.”

  Eve shook her head. “Five-thirty is fine. But there’ll be no need to go to Daisy’s while I’m here. The least I can do to repay you for your generosity in giving us a place to stay is to cook your meals.”

  He grinned. Now there was a benefit he hadn’t expected. “If you’re waiting for me to refuse your offer, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  She smiled at that. “Good. I’ll warn you that I’m not as good a cook as Daisy, but I can prepare a meal that is both filling and satisfying.”

  “That’s better than I can claim for my own attempts.”

  “It’s settled then.” She seemed genuinely pleased. “Just show me to your kitchen so I can take a look at how well your pantry is stocked and plan a menu.”

  Chance grimaced. “Since I don’t do much cooking, I’m afraid you’ll find it sadly lacking. Make me a list of what you’ll need and I’ll stop by the mercantile while I’m out.” He could drop her list off and let Doug pull the items together while he took care of his other business, then pick up the order on his way back.

  He led her into the kitchen and watched as she made a very thorough inventory, meticulously jotting down items as she went.

  She finally turned and handed him her list. “You weren’t exaggerating—the pantry is almost bare. I’ve listed what I consider staples.”

  Chance took a look at the list and whistled. He might not be able to read it, but he could tell it was very long. “Perhaps you’d better come with me after all.”

  She worried at her lower lip with her teeth, then reached to take the list back from him. “If it’s too much I can try to eliminate some of the—”

  He drew it back out of her reach. “No, no. You said these items were essentials, and I’m taking your word for that. But I insist that you accompany me in case Doug—the man who owns the mercantile—has questions about anything on the list.”

  She frowned uncertainly. “If you really think that’s necessary...”

  “I do.”

  “Can I go, too?” Leo looked at her hopefully.

  Chance spoke up before she could. “If it’s okay with Miss Pickering, it’s okay with me.”

  “Of course you may.” She moved to the stairs. “Just give me a minute to let Dotty know where we’re going.”

  Chance smiled as he watched her climb the stairs. At least she hadn’t asked for time to finish polishing the counter.

  When they arrived at the mercantile they met Adam’s wife, Reggie, and their adopted eight-year-old son, Jack, approaching from the other direction.

  Chance quickly stepped forward. “Let me get that door for you.”

  Once inside Chance quickly made the introductions. “Eve, this is Regina Barr and her son, Jack. Reggie’s one of the first people I met when I came here from Philadelphia. She’s also a photographer extraordinaire.”

  Eve’s eyes widened. “A photographer—how exciting.”

  Reggie grinned. “Not as exciting as it sounds, but I enjoy what I do.”

  Chance tilted his head in Eve’s direction. “And Reggie, this is Eve Pickering, who just arrived in town on this morning’s train, and her young friend Leo.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Reggie said. “And I’ll admit that I’d already heard a little about Turnabout’s most recent arrivals.” She grinned. “In a town like Turnabout news gets around fast.”

  Chance was relieved to see Eve smile back at that. It was hard to tell just what sort of comment would get her back up.

  “It would be the same in my hometown of Iron Bluff.” Her expression softened further. “Everyone here has been very kind to a pair of stranded strangers. Especially Mr. Dawson.”

  The quick look of gratitude she shot his way caught him by surprise. Perhaps his finer qualities hadn’t been lost on her after all. But he noticed she still hadn’t used his first name.

  Reggie gave him an amused look. “So I’ve heard.” Then she turned back to Eve. “I’m glad to hear you have a good first impression of our town.” She cut Chance another amused look. “And its citizens.”

  Before Chance could respond, Jack stepped in and claimed Reggie’s attention by tugging on her skirt. “Mr. Blakely said Posey and her pups are in the storeroom. Can I go look?”

  Jack’s mother glanced toward the mercantile owner. “If it’s all right with Mr. Blakely, then I suppose so.”

  The man waved them toward the storeroom door. “It is. Just don’t try to pick up any of the pups.”

  Eve nodded to Leo before he could ask the question they all knew was coming. “You can go along, too, if you like.”

  The two boys dashed off.

  “I thought Mrs. Peavy normally did your shopping for you,” Chance said.

  Reggie nodded. “She’s busy in the kitchen, getting started on her baking for the Thanksgiving Festival. She just needed a little extra cinnamon and some raisins.” Then Reggie turned to Eve. “Has anyone told you about the festival yet?”

  Eve nodded. “I’ve heard a mention or two.”

  Reggie touched her lightly on the arm. “You must come. I promise you’ll be more than welcome there—you and Leo both.”

  “So I’ve been told. It sounds like a lovely tradition.”

  “Oh, it is.” Reggie turned to Chance. “See that you explain it all to her and convince her to come.”

  “I’ll do my best.” But could he get his all-work-and-no-play houseguest to bend that far?

  Chapter Eight

  Eve allowed herself to bask for a moment in the obviously sincere invitation from Mr. Dawson’s friend.

  Then Mrs. Barr shifted the basket she held on her arm. “Well, I’ll let you get on with your shopping. I need to finish mine and get back to the house. I left Patricia—that’s my five-month-old—in Ira’s care.”

  Eve smiled. “Of course. It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Barr.”

  “Oh please, call me Reggie.”

  As they parted, Eve reflected on how friendly everyone here seemed. She was accustomed to being treated with more reserve, even by folks who’d known her all her life. Then again, these people didn’t know her history the way those at home did. Would they treat her differently if they did?

  While she and Mr. Dawson moved down the aisle of the mercantile collecting the items on her list, he explained to her that Ira Peavy and his wife were long-time members of the Barr household, more family than hired help. She was learning to appreciate how good he was at explaining things he knew she’d be curious about without her having to ask.

  Eve went about her shopping in her usual methodical fashion, or at least she attempted to do so. Mr. Dawson stayed at her elbow and was constantly distracted by items not on the list—like canned peaches, walnuts and maple syrup. She tried to take him to task for it, but since he was quick to tell her that he was the one paying the bill, she finally gave up. By the time she’d checked off the last item on her list, the pile was quite high.

  Then Eve had another thought. Telling Mr. Dawson she’d meet him at the counter in a moment, she headed to the corner where several bolts of fabric were shelved. A lovely blue print caught her eye. It was the color of a clear summer sky and had small, cream-colored dots sprinkled across it. Was it as soft as it looked?

  Catching herself before her hand could reach out to test it, Eve resolutely
turned to the more serviceable cloth next to it. She fingered a heavy cotton, wondering how much it would cost her to buy a few yards. Leo definitely needed new clothing, and she’d like to take care of that for him in the short time she had here. But try as she might, she couldn’t figure out a way to make her money stretch far enough. She’d never had any money of her own—living off her grandmother’s charity hadn’t allowed her to earn anything. The meager funds she had with her had been given to her by her aunts with strict instructions that they be used wisely and hoarded as a hedge against emergencies since the money would be all she had to get by on for a while. For her first six months of being an apprentice for Mrs. O’Connell would earn only her room and board.

  But Leo really needed something to wear that wasn’t so raggedy-looking. Could she swallow her pride enough, for Leo’s sake, to ask Mr. Dawson—

  “If you’re looking to make a new dress, I’d suggest the blue rather than that brown.” Mr. Dawson stood at her elbow.

  She should have known he wouldn’t wait patiently at the counter for her. She shook her head with a resolute smile. “It’s not for me. All Leo has are the clothes on his back, such as they are. I would like to make him at least one spare change of clothing.”

  Chance nodded. “Good idea. So you’re handy with a needle and thread, are you?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not something I excel at but I do well enough.”

  “I tell you what, let’s make it a gift from both of us. If you’re willing to put in the time to make it, I’ll purchase the fabric.”

  She smiled in relief. “That sounds fair. If I get right on it this afternoon I think I can get him at least a new shirt by tomorrow. And perhaps by the festival I’ll be able to get the pants done, as well. At least that will give him one decent change of clothes.”

  She’d have to sacrifice the time she’d planned to spend reading the book Abigail had loaned her, especially given that she’d likely be on her way to Tyler again in just a couple of days, but it would be worthwhile.

  Chance rubbed his chin. “Of course, an active boy could use more than one change—you know, something for every day and then something for Sundays and special occasions. What do you think about taking one of my old suits and using the cloth to make an additional change of clothing for him? Assuming, of course, you have enough time before Leo’s situation is resovled.”

  “I would be more than happy to. But don’t you need your suit?”

  He shrugged. “I have an older one that doesn’t fit me very well anymore, but the fabric is still in good condition. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, I just haven’t gotten around to doing so.”

  Mr. Dawson was actually willing to discard a perfectly good suit as opposed to having it altered? Did he have so much money?

  He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “It seems a shame to just throw it out, but if you prefer to use new cloth—”

  “No, of course not,” she said quickly. “I mean, if you truly don’t want the suit any longer, it would be wasteful not to make use of it.”

  “Well then, let’s see about getting this cloth cut for you and we’ll be ready to go.”

  Eve said a silent prayer of gratitude. God was surely faithful to supply her needs. Even to the point of using someone else’s castoffs to do so.

  A few moments later, as Mr. Blakely added up their purchases, Eve glanced around for Leo.

  “If you’re looking for your boy,” Mr. Blakely said, “he’s still in the back with the pups.”

  With a thank-you, Eve headed for the storeroom. There she found Leo stooped over a crate.

  He looked up when she came in. “Posey is feeding them.”

  “I see that.”

  “There’s five puppies. What do you suppose Mr. Blakely’s going to do with all of them?”

  There was a world of longing in his tone and expression, but Eve didn’t want to give him any false hope so she carefully worded her response. “I’m sure he’ll either keep them or find really good homes for them.”

  “Oh.”

  She ignored the disappointment in his tone. “Time for us to go.”

  Leo stood and, casting one last lingering look at the dog and her pups, preceded her from the room.

  By the time they were back in the mercantile proper, Mr. Dawson had settled the bill and made arrangements for delivery of the bulk of their purchases. During the walk back to his place, Leo talked nonstop about the dogs, especially one of the pups, a spotted one that seemed to have been the runt of the litter.

  Finally, the boy turned to her. “Did you ever have a dog?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” Her grandmother had considered animals that didn’t contribute something to their livelihood to be a waste of time and food.

  Leo turned to Mr. Dawson. “What about you?”

  “A couple of them, actually. A spaniel we called Tolly and a setter we named Chet.”

  “We?” Eve asked as they reached The Blue Bottle.

  “My brothers and I.”

  If she had to guess, she’d pick him as the youngest of the siblings. “How many brothers?”

  “Three.” He stepped forward to hold open the door.

  “That must be nice—having a large family, I mean.” She’d often thought having siblings would have made her childhood less lonely.

  “It has both good points and bad.”

  She mulled that over as she stepped inside. “Do you see them often?”

  “I haven’t seen them since I left Philadelphia.”

  There was something in his tone that made her wonder if perhaps that had been his choice. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d left home hoping to make a fresh start.

  “Miss Pickering.”

  Eve turned to see the young man from the train depot standing just inside the doorway. “Yes. Can I help you?”

  He held out a folded piece of paper. “This came for you a few minutes ago. It’s a telegram.”

  It must be a response to the one I sent to Mrs. O’Connell. Not certain exactly what to expect, she thanked the young man and accepted the slip of paper. She stared at it a long moment before opening it. Finally she steeled herself and scanned the contents.

  “Bad news?”

  Apparently she hadn’t been successful in masking her reaction to the message. Mr. Dawson was studying her with a slight worry—furrow on his brow.

  “It’s from Mrs. O’Connell, the milliner in Tyler I was supposed to meet. She’s not happy that I stood her up.”

  “Didn’t you explain the situation?”

  “Only that there was a child in need that I had to assist.”

  “I see.”

  Eve couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “She says that, in deference to my grandmother, she will hold the position for me until Monday. But this is a busy time of year for her and if I’m not there by then, I need not show up at all.”

  “That seems harsh.”

  “No. No, she’s right. She made a special allowance to take me on and, from her perspective at least, I broke my word.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Hopefully the sheriff will have confirmation of Leo’s story before then and plans will be made for Leo’s welfare. Once that’s done, there really isn’t any reason for me to remain here.”

  “I can take care of my own welfare.” Leo’s tone was defensive and defiant. Then he softened. “But I’ll sure be sorry not to have you around here anymore.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t leave until I’m certain you’re surrounded by good and loving people.”

  She wasn’t sure how reassured Leo was by her words, but she truly meant them.

  She just hoped she could make that happen in the four and a half days between now and Monday.

  * * *

  As Chance carried the items he’d carted from the mercantile into the kitchen he found himself wondering about Eve’s words. He absolutely believed she meant what she said about not leaving Leo until she was certain
he would be properly cared for. It was amazing to him how much she’d already disrupted her own plans to aid this little boy she’d met only this morning.

  But did she truly believe it could all be resolved in five days’ time? Reading between the lines he could tell she wasn’t eager to start her new life in Tyler. But it seemed just as obvious she was determined to do so anyway.

  Which seemed a shame. If one was going to embark on a new adventure, a fresh start, one should look forward to it eagerly, just as he had when he left Philadelphia to come here.

  Perhaps she hadn’t had any say in the matter. If that was the case could he help change that?

  That thought drew him up short. He’d taken responsibility for seeing that she had a roof over her head the next few days, not for solving her happiness issues. What was it about this petite mouse of a woman that had him wanting to slay all her dragons?

  * * *

  Eve looked around the supper table. Supper was over and from all appearances the others were happy with the dishes she’d managed to prepare.

  Mr. Dawson pushed back from the table with a satisfied smile. “You were too modest earlier. That was a mighty fine meal.”

  Eve’s chest warmed at his praise, but she knew he was being generous. “Thank you. I got a late start so I didn’t have time to bake bread. But perhaps I can remedy that tomorrow.”

  “No need for apologies,” he assured her. “I don’t think any of us are leaving the table hungry.”

  Dotty stood and reached for an empty platter. “You cooked the meal, so you must let me do the cleanup.”

  Eve frowned. “I’ll do no such thing. I—”

  But Dotty shook her head. “No arguments—I insist. I haven’t seen you stop for even a minute since I arrived. Run along with you and relax for a bit.”

  “I like to keep busy.” Besides, she’d been taught the younger members of the household never sat down to rest before the older ones did.

  But Dotty was apparently having none of it. “Then find something relaxing to keep busy with.”

  Not wanting to get into an argument, Eve decided on a compromise. “Well, if you insist on taking care of the kitchen, I do have some sewing to attend to.”