An Unexpected Gift

Eve Pickering knows what it’s like to be judged for your past. So she’s not about to leave the orphaned boy she’s befriended alone in this unfamiliar Texas town. Since Chance Dawson’s offer of shelter is the only way to look after Leo, Eve is determined they’ll have a warm, welcoming home for the holidays.

Chance came from the big city to make it on his own despite a painful secret. But Eve’s strength is giving him a confidence he never expected—and a new direction for his dream. With a little Christmas blessing, he’ll dare to win her heart—and make their family one for a lifetime.

Eve gave her temporary landlord a smile.

“Let me thank you again, Mr. Dawson, for your generosity toward Leo and myself. I assure you we will try to impose on you as little as possible during our stay.”

He made a dismissive gesture. “As I said, there’s lots of room in the house, and I like company, so I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” He spread his hands. “And please, drop the Mr. Dawson nonsense and just call me Chance.”

Eve felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. “That would be highly improper. I barely know you.”

“Nothing improper about it. I assure you, folks around here are pretty informal about such things.”

She struggled with her notions of propriety versus her desire to be polite. She didn’t want to risk insulting him. “I don’t know—”

He cut off her protest, adding a cajoling note to his voice. “Oh, come now. I would consider it a favor.”

This seemed genuinely important to him. “Very well.” She nodded.

The touch of triumph in his grin should have irritated her, but for some reason it didn’t.

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.

A Family for Christmas
Winnie Griggs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Be hospitable to one another without grumbling. As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.

—1 Peter 4:9–10

For my wonderful agent Michelle and talented, long-suffering editor Melissa for their patience, encouragement and understanding toward me throughout the development and construction phases of this book.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Turnabout, Texas, November 1895

“Stop! You can’t do this.”

Eve’s protests fell on deaf ears as the conductor continued to forcibly escort her young friend off the train without so much as a backward glance. She trotted to keep up with the long-legged official as he moved toward the exit, his fist firmly clutching Leo’s collar.

“Please be careful!” she called out as she saw Leo stumble. “He’s just a boy. Don’t hurt him.”

But the conductor still didn’t slow down. Did the man have no feelings?

As soon as they were on the platform, Eve scooted around to face him, determined to halt his progress and make him listen to her.

“Mr. McIvers, you can’t mean to just toss him from the train and leave him here.” She tried to infuse her voice with as much authority and confidence as possible but was afraid there was a touch of pleading there, as well. How had she not realized before now that Leo was a stowaway?

She risked a glance Leo’s way. The trapped, desperate look that had crossed the boy’s face when the conductor pounced on him a moment ago was still there. It was enough to break her heart—no child should look so haunted.

“And what do you suggest I do with him?” The conductor, a beanpole of a man with bushy sideburns and an officious manner, looked down his nose at her as if she were no older than the ten-year-old in his grip.

She was used to such treatment. Even though she was a grown woman of twenty, with her slight build and standing barely five feet two inches with her hair up, folks often dismissed her as a child. But Eve drew herself up to her full height and tried to match his stern expression. “I’m certain there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. If you’ll just allow Leo to explain—”

Leo tried to shake himself free of the conductor’s grasp, but the man tightened his hold. “The time to explain has come and gone,” the man said sternly. “He’s a stowaway, pure and simple. And he rides no farther on my train.”

This situation was partly her fault. She should have guessed something was amiss when she first spotted the boy under the seat in front of her. She should have taken the time to figure out how to help him before it came to this. But she’d been so wrapped up in her own worries, so plagued by concerns of what the new life she was heading toward might be like, that she’d missed the signs. So instead, she’d merely assumed he was retrieving something that had fallen.

When she’d invited him to sit next to her and share her apple, it had been as much to distract herself from her own forebodings as to be kind to her new acquaintance. He’d fallen asleep with his head leaning against her and her heart had softened further toward him. But she’d become concerned about him being separated from his party and had quietly asked the conductor to let them know where the boy was. That was when the man had realized he had a stowaway on board.

Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Eve spread her hands, trying once more to appeal to the strict conductor’s sympathies. “He’s only a boy. What will become of him if you leave him here?”

But the man refused to bend. “Miss Pickering, I’m sure your concern does you credit, but don’t let his age fool you. I’ve met his kind before and they’ll smile innocently to your face while they pick your pocket. I imagine a scalawag like him will get on fine, or end up in jail one day.”

Eve planted her fists on her hips. “You can’t treat a child like a stray dog and dump him at your first opportunity.”

She glanced around, looking for help of some sort, and her gaze snagged on that of a gentleman standing across the platform. Her eyes widened as she realized he was watching her. There was a note of curiosity and sympathy in his smoky blue eyes. And something else, something warm and compelling that made it impossible for her to look away, that made her certain she could trust him with her problems.

An older couple dressed for travel crossed between them, breaking the connection, and Eve abruptly came to her senses. She lifted her chin and turned back to Mr. McIvers. What in the world was she thinking? Such fanciful notions led to nothing but trouble. And asking a strange gentleman for assistance was not something a proper young lady did unless the circumstances were indeed dire.

Still feeling the impact of those eyes, she did her best to push that aside and deal with the more important issue at hand. “Where exactly are we?”

“Turnabout, Texas.” The conductor didn’t seem the least bit cowed by her earlier chastisements. “And it’s a far piece from Tyler, which is where you were headed if I recollect rightly.” He dug out his pocket watch and flipped it open. “I suggest you climb right back on the train unless you want to be left behind.”

If he only knew how little desire she had to continue on to Tyler. It was for her a place of banishment, not a place for a pleasant visit. But that was neither here nor there. “You can’t—”

The conductor didn’t allow her to finish. “I can, and I will. Like I said, nobody rides for free on my train. He’s lucky I waited for us to pull into the station and didn’t throw him off as soon as I discovered him.” He stared pointedly at her. “And if I were you, I’d check my belongings to make certain he hasn’t pinched anything.”

“I’d never take anything from her.” The indignant declaration was the first thing Leo had said in his own defense since the conductor had grabbed him a few minutes earlier.

She gave the boy a reassuring smile. “I know you wouldn’t, Leo.”

The conductor shook his head in disgust. “I don’t have any more time to waste on this.” He finally released his hold, causing Leo to stumble a bit at the suddenness of it.

Then Mr. McIvers gave the bottom of his vest a sharp tug as he shot Leo a narrow-eyed look of contempt. “If I catch you stowing away on one of my trains again, I’ll march you straight to the sheriff’s office, even if I have to delay our departure to do it.”

He glanced Eve’s way and touched the bill of his cap in a perfunctory gesture. “We’ll be leaving shortly. You’d be well advised to get back on board before this one sweet-talks you into doing something foolish.” With that he turned and marched into the depot office without a backward glance.

She took the opportunity to look again at the blue-eyed stranger. But he was no longer there. Nor did a quick look around show him to be anywhere on the platform. So much for his being her white knight. She shook off that fanciful thought. They’d shared only a brief glance after all. Still, it was strange how she felt as though she had lost a friend.

She turned back to Leo, who was still glowering at the retreating form of his erstwhile captor. Then he glanced her way and his expression softened. “I appreciate you taking up for me, miss. You’ve been real nice.” He puffed his chest out. “But don’t you worry none. I’ll get on fine. This town is as good a place as any for me to step off in.”

Eve heard both the bravado and the underlying uncertainty in his voice. What was his story? Where were his parents? Was someone searching for him, worrying about him?

And what in the world was she going to do to fix this? She couldn’t manage her own problems. Besides, even if her limited funds would cover his train fare, he didn’t seem to have a particular destination in mind. Which meant he was running from something, not to something. The question was did he have good reason to do so?

She couldn’t walk away until she learned more about his situation or found someone who could help him better than she could—and was willing to do so. Abandoning a child in need was the worst kind of callous betrayal.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know a soul in this place. On the heel of that thought, her mind turned again to the man she’d exchanged glances with earlier. Had the sympathy in his eyes been real? Would he have helped if she hadn’t turned away?

Well, no point dwelling on that now. Eve placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder, mentally wincing at the thinness of it. “That’s a very brave thing to say, Leo, but don’t you worry, we’ll figure something out.”

She only hoped she could keep that promise. Thank the Good Lord she wouldn’t have to do it on her own.

Heavenly Father, You must have let my and Leo’s paths cross so I could help him. I’m not sure what good I’ll be to him, but I won’t abandon him and I know You won’t abandon either of us. Just please, show me what it is I should do. I’ve never had anyone depending on me this way before and I couldn’t bear it if I failed him.

One thing was for certain, neither she nor Leo would be on that train when it left the station today. Which meant she’d better retrieve her bag before it went on to Tyler without her.

She gave Leo an encouraging smile. “Give me a minute to collect my things, then you and I can decide what to do next. Okay?”

“You mean you’re staying?”

If she hadn’t already decided to stay, the flare of hope in his eyes would have cinched the deal. “Of course I’m staying. I told you we’d work things out, didn’t I?” At his nod, she smiled. “Well, we can hardly do that if I’m on the train and you’re still here.”

Instructing Leo one last time to wait right where he was, she hurried back on board and made her way to her seat.

Everything had happened so quickly she’d barely had time to think of the ramifications of her actions, something her grandmother would say was typical of her. Her impulse to act first and think later was what had caused her current disgrace. Which had ultimately resulted in her being banished to Tyler.

And speaking of Tyler, what would her grandmother’s friend, Mrs. O’Connell, think when Eve didn’t get off the train at her appointed stop today as planned? Would she change her mind about taking Eve on as an apprentice?

And if so, would that actually be such a terrible thing? After all, working in the back room of a millinery shop was not something she had ever aspired to.

Eve immediately took herself to task for that disrespectful and ungrateful thought. Her grandmother had gone to a lot of trouble to secure this position for her. It might not be what Eve wanted for herself, but she knew she should be thankful for the opportunity to make a fresh start. Of course, it would be easier to feel appreciative if her grandmother hadn’t also made certain that the story of Eve’s past followed her there.

What would it be like to truly have a fresh start, to go somewhere where no one knew her past, where no one was constantly watching her, waiting for her to stumble?

Well, at least now she had a short reprieve. No one here had any idea who she was or what her past was like. And what a freeing thought that was. Perhaps she’d even run into her blue-eyed knight again.

She gathered up her bag and shawl and hurried back out onto the platform with lighter steps than when she’d first started on this journey.

* * *

Chance Dawson stood inside the depot, leaning casually against the counter. He was here to check on a part he’d ordered for his current project. Hopefully it had arrived on the morning train.

From the looks of things, though, it was going to take Todd a while to sort through the mountain of mail and packages that had just come in. Not that Chance minded the wait. He wasn’t in much of a hurry and besides, watching the folks around him was a hobby of his.

And there were plenty of folks to watch in here. Besides Lionel, the stationmaster, and Todd his helper, a number of others were in the depot office, waiting either to board the train or, like him, to check on arriving cargo.

But none was as interesting as the woman he’d seen out on the platform a few moments ago. The way that petite protector had faced down the conductor despite her obvious timidity had been impressive to watch. But when her gaze had locked with his, the overwhelming urge to come to her defense had rocked him. It was probably just as well she’d turned away from him.

Dotty Epps walked in just then, interrupting his thoughts. He and the elderly widow had formed an unlikely friendship this past year. She was one of the very few people who knew his secret and she not only kept it but didn’t let it affect how she treated him.

“Not planning on leaving town on that train are you?” he said by way of greeting. “Turnabout just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

She gave him one of her cheery smiles. “You’re not going to get rid of me so easily, Chance Dawson.” She lifted the small parcel she was holding. “I’m just posting a package for my grandson. He has a birthday next week.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” He turned serious. “How are things?” The recent loss of her home and most of her possessions to a fire had taken a toll, but it hadn’t seemed to diminish her positive outlook on life.

Her smile acquired a wistful tone. “I miss my home, but the boardinghouse is comfortable. There’s a whole lot less housework to be done, and more company, as well. My daughter keeps asking me to move to Jefferson to live with her and her family, but this is where my friends are.”

“Well, you know if you need anything, you have only to ask.”

She patted his hand. “Thank you, but I’m doing fine.”

As she moved on to the counter, Chance returned to eavesdropping on the conductor. The man was energetically recounting a rather embellished version of how he’d expertly identified and dealt with the sly stowaway.

His story, which painted the kid as some sort of treacherous thief, differed significantly from what Chance had observed earlier. Of course, at the time he’d been more focused on the determined young woman who was so very staunchly defending the boy than on the conductor and the kid himself.

She had intrigued him, and it wasn’t just that she’d taken up for the boy—though he did admire her for that. It was more the contradictions he’d sensed in her.

Her appearance—from her tightly coifed brown hair that not even a sudden gust of November wind could ruffle, to her high-collared, severe dress and stiff posture— proclaimed her to be a very prim and proper young lady, one who was a bit on the mousy side. She’d also seemed quite young. But when the petite defender had defiantly lifted her chin, he’d seen the flash of fire in her expressive brown eyes, a fire that made him think perhaps she wasn’t quite so prim and proper after all—and definitely not mousy. The maturity he’d seen there surprised him, as well. She was much more than the child she’d looked at first sight.

Then she’d spotted him watching her. If she’d given him the least indication that she wanted his help with the conductor, he’d have immediately stepped forward. But instead she’d stiffened and very deliberately turned away. It wasn’t at all the kind of reaction he was used to getting from the ladies of his acquaintance, especially one who was so obviously in a tight spot. He hadn’t been sure what to make of it, so he’d shrugged it off and proceeded inside the depot.

But ever since then he’d had the nagging feeling he might have made the wrong call.

“I left him out there on the platform.” The conductor’s words to Lionel pulled Chance back to the present. “He’s a shifty one. If I were you I’d keep a close eye on things around here until he moves on.”

Dotty placed her hand on her heart. “Do you consider this man dangerous then? Should Sheriff Gleason be informed?”

Chance decided it was time to add his two cents. “This blackguard the conductor is describing happens to be a young boy, not a man.”

Dotty wrinkled her nose. “Surely you don’t mean that child I saw waiting on the platform a moment ago?” She stared at the conductor as if he’d had the bad manners to relate an off-color story. “Why, he can’t be more than nine or ten years old and he certainly looked more forlorn than cunning.”

Chance nodded. “Nevertheless, that’s the accused.”

The conductor, whose face had gained a reddish hue, gave them both a haughty look. “Just because he’s young doesn’t mean he ain’t to be watched.”

Chance raised a brow. “The young lady who stuck up for him earlier didn’t seem to think he was a threat to anyone.” In fact, she’d seemed ready to defend him against all comers.

The conductor tugged on his vest. “You know how young ladies are, too tenderhearted for their own good most times, especially when it comes to young’uns.”

Tenderhearted? Maybe. But there seemed to be more backbone to the woman than that.

The conductor had apparently tired of the subject. He turned away, flipped open his pocket watch and informed the waiting passengers it was time to board.

Chance’s thoughts were still on the stowaway’s protectoress. He liked to puzzle out what made people act the way they did—and she offered an intriguing challenge. Too bad the woman wasn’t sticking around.

He’d kept an eye on her peripherally through the depot window and had felt a small stab of disappointment when he saw her say goodbye to the boy and head back toward the train. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of him had actually expected her to stay with the kid.

He supposed he shouldn’t judge her, though—it would be foolhardy for her to strand herself overnight in a strange town, especially since she seemed to be traveling alone. And he had no idea if she was on a strict schedule of some sort—after all, Thanksgiving was just two days away.

Besides, he found it was always good practice to give a pretty girl the benefit of the doubt.

Chance glanced over as the conductor left the building, followed by the few last-minute passengers who hadn’t yet boarded.

To his surprise the door had barely closed behind them when it was pushed open again and the woman and her young companion walked in.

Well, well, perhaps he’d have the opportunity to get to know her better after all.

Chapter Two

Eve ushered Leo into the depot and out of the blustery wind, still feeling as out of place as a turtle up a tree. She had no idea how to go about making certain Leo was taken care of. She didn’t even know where the two of them would bed down tonight. But she knew she was doing the right thing and, for now, that was enough.

Of course, before she could figure out her next move, she really needed to get more information from Leo about his situation.

“Come on,” she said with a nod toward the benches. “Let’s sit down and talk.”

Leo’s expression turned wary, but he nodded.

Before crossing the room, Eve took quick stock of the other folks inside. The stationmaster, his scraggly mustache quivering as he scribbled in a ledger, stood behind the counter. A strapping adolescent was sorting through packages, stacking some against a wall and carrying others to another room.

The other two people present were a man and woman. The woman appeared to be about her grandmother’s age, though she’d obviously not lived as harsh a life. Rather than hardness and a guarded demeanor, this woman had a kind face, graced with laugh lines and a soft smile.

But she took all of that in almost subconsciously. It was the gentleman who caught and held her attention. As soon as she realized that he was the same man she’d noticed watching her outside, her senses seemed to heighten in awareness.

There was something about him that both attracted her and put her on guard. With his light brown hair, boyish smile, and those blue eyes, he was handsome. And there seemed to be what she could only describe as a likeableness about him.

But it was coupled with an impish, amused air that gave her pause. All her instincts told her this was the sort of man her grandmother was forever warning her about—a man who dabbled in flirtations and enjoyed partaking in the occasional bit of mischief. The sort of man who’d led to her mother’s downfall.

What was most strange about this whole situation was that she was getting all of these strong impressions of the man without ever having exchanged a word with him. Further proof, she supposed, that her grandmother was correct about her getting lost in her own flights of fancy.

“Can I help you with something, miss?”

The stationmaster’s question brought Eve’s attention back to herself and she reddened slightly as she realized the stranger had seen her staring at him. She quickly turned to the official with a smile. “No, thank you. We just wanted to get away from the wind for a few moments.”

He gave a friendly wave toward the benches. “Make yourselves at home.”

She nodded and continued on her way, but remained very aware of the blue-eyed stranger behind her.

The conductor’s “All aboard” call came in from outside. There was no turning back now—she was well and truly committed to staying here for the time being. And she didn’t regret that decision for a moment.

Eve sent up a silent prayer for help in finding just the right words, then took a deep breath. “Now we talk.”

Leo perched on the very edge of the bench with his hands tightly gripping the seat on either side of him, as if ready to run any moment. “What about?”

Trying to put him more at ease, she infused as much warmth and encouragement in her smile as she could summon. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me how you came to be on that train?”

“I snuck on board when the train stopped at Texarkana.” His tone indicated he wasn’t going to volunteer any more information than he had to.

So, he really was a stowaway. She’d had some vague notion that he might have been abandoned by his guardian once he boarded. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that this was not the case, that he’d taken this step all on his own. But at least now she had a general idea of where he’d come from. “Why did you do such a thing? Don’t you think your parents will be worried about you?”

His shoulders slumped. “My parents are dead. They passed on near about two years ago I think.” His tone was flat, matter-of-fact. “No one else is gonna care one speck about what happens to me.”

The idea that he could feel so very alone made her want to cry. She lightly touched his hand. “I’m so sorry.” But surely he hadn’t been on his own for two years. “Who’s been looking out for you since then?”

He shifted evasively. “After my folks passed on, one of the neighbors took me in.”

So he did have someone. That was a relief. Now, if she could just find out who that was and why he’d run away.

“Pardon me.”

Eve gave a little start and jerked around to find the gentleman and lady she’d noticed earlier had approached. Both wore friendly smiles.

Her heartbeat slowed and she forced herself to return those smiles even though she was anxious to get back to her conversation with Leo. “Can I do something for you?”

“Actually, that was my question.” The handsome stranger gave her a self-effacing smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your little altercation with the conductor earlier. I get the impression Turnabout wasn’t really your planned destination.” He motioned to indicate he was including the woman standing beside him. “We just wanted to make certain you two were okay before we left the building.”

So he had been watching her earlier. “That’s very kind of you, Mr....”

“Dawson.” He gave a short bow. “Chance Dawson, at your service. And this is Mrs. Epps.”

“Well, Mr. Dawson, Mrs. Epps, I thank you kindly for your concern but we’re fine.” Truth to tell, she wasn’t sure exactly what kind of help to ask for at this point. And she wouldn’t know until she finished her conversation with Leo.

“No need to be bashful,” Mrs. Epps said. “And please, call me Dotty. You’ll find Turnabout is a friendly place where folks look out for each other.”

Eve relaxed slightly and returned the woman’s smile. “I’m sure this is a lovely town.”

“Excuse me if this is a bit forward,” Mr. Dawson said, “but do you need assistance finding accommodations for your time here? I can show you where the hotel is if you like.”

Just then, rumbling sounds came from the vicinity of Leo’s stomach. Eve mentally kicked herself for her thoughtlessness. If Leo was a runaway it had probably been quite some time since he’d had a decent meal. She should have thought of feeding him right away.

Before she could say anything, Mr. Dawson chimed in with a grin. “Sounds like someone’s hungry. Why don’t you let us at least show you where you can get a bite to eat?”

Deciding that, with Mrs. Epps present, there could be no impropriety in accepting his assistance, Eve nodded. “Thank you. That would be most welcome.”

Mr. Dawson offered a hand to help her rise. “I don’t think I caught your names.”

His hand was warm and supportive. And just a little too comfortable.

She reluctantly released it as soon as she was on her feet. “I’m Eve Pickering, and my friend here is Leo.”

He executed a slight bow. “Pleased to meet you and welcome to Turnabout.” He reached for her carpet bag. “Allow me.”

She wasn’t certain how she felt about letting someone else take her bag, especially since it contained the sum total of all her earthly possessions.

But before she could form a response, he extended an arm toward the exit. “Very well then. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to Daisy’s Restaurant. Best food in town.”

Eve nodded and placed a hand on Leo’s back as she headed for the exit. They had just reached the door when the stationmaster hailed Mr. Dawson.

“Looks like you have a letter,” he said, holding up an envelope.

Mr. Dawson retrieved the letter and Eve thought she saw his expression change from mild curiosity to something stronger as he studied the envelope. But he tucked it into his pocket without bothering to open it and by the time he rejoined them at the door his expression had resumed its casual neighborliness. A curious look passed between him and Dotty, but then it was gone and he was holding the door open for them.

She wondered at his restraint. She’d never received a letter herself, but she imagined if she had that she would tear it open immediately and read the contents.

But perhaps this was an everyday occurrence for him.

As they stepped out onto the platform, Mr. Dawson turned to her. “So where have you traveled from?”

“A small town in Arkansas called Iron Bluff.” Would she ever see that place again?

“And are you traveling in order to spend Thanksgiving with friends?” Mrs. Epps asked with a smile.

That was so far from the truth as to be laughable.

Mrs. Epps must have noticed something in her expression because she grimaced. “Please forgive me for prying. You don’t have to answer. It’s just the idle curiosity of an old woman.”

“No need to apologize,” she reassured the woman. “It’s just that the truth is so mundane. I’m going to Tyler to secure employment. The fact that Thanksgiving is in two days is merely coincidence.”

“Employment?” Mr. Dawson eyed her speculatively.

This was beginning to feel like an interrogation, but she didn’t want to be rude to these strangers who were being kind. “Yes. I’m going to apprentice with a milliner there.” She tried to infuse some positive emotion in her tone. “I’ve never actually met Mrs. O’Connell, but I understand she is very well respected for her craft.”

Mrs. Epps’s expression turned to dismay. “You can’t mean to say you don’t know anyone there. Oh, no, that won’t do. My dear, Thanksgiving is meant to be spent with family and friends.”

Eve wasn’t quite certain how to respond. The thought that her new acquaintances might be feeling pity for her was mortifying.

Then Mrs. Epps surprised her by patting her arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you have compelling reasons. But if you decide to stay here for another few days, which I hope you will, you can participate in our Thanksgiving Festival. The whole town gets together for it and I assure you, you and Leo will be made quite welcome.” She glanced over to Mr. Dawson. “Don’t you agree, Chance?”

“I would never disagree with anything you said,” Mr. Dawson replied gallantly. Then he grinned at Eve. “The Thanksgiving Festival is quite an event. Why, an opportunity to sample Dotty’s orange spice carrots alone would make it worth extending your stay.”

For a moment Eve was sorely tempted. After all, once she arrived in Tyler her chance to do as she pleased would be severely curtailed. But then reason reasserted itself. “I thank you both for the kind invitation, but my plans are a bit uncertain at the moment.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Epps smiled in understanding. “If your plans change, though, just keep in mind that we would be happy to include you in our gathering.”

As they reached a street leading away from the tracks, Mrs. Epps paused. “I’m afraid this is where I must leave you. It was very nice making your acquaintance, Eve, and you, too, Leo. I hope to see you again before you leave town.”

That brought Eve up short. “Aren’t you going to join us for lunch?” Going to lunch with the two of them was one thing. Going to lunch alone with a strange man was something else altogether.

“I’m afraid not.” She smiled. “Miss Daniels is away visiting her son and I promised to take her place in the weekly bridge game over at the boardinghouse.”

Mr. Dawson’s expression drooped melodramatically. “I suppose their good fortune in having your company is our loss.”

The woman flapped her hand at him with a chiding expression. “Chance Dawson, get on with you now. You need to turn that sweet talk of yours where it’ll do you more good—in other words on someone your own age instead of a matron like me.”

“Dotty, how can you say such a thing? You know you’re the light of my life.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned to Eve. “Don’t pay any mind to his foolishness, he’s quite harmless really.” Then she eyed Mr. Dawson. “And you, make sure you behave yourself.”

Now, what did that mean?

But Mr. Dawson was holding his hands up, palms forward, a wounded expression on his face. “Dotty, my dear, you said it yourself, I’m harmless.”

Mrs. Epps shook her head but there was a smile in her eyes. Then she gave them a wave. “Enjoy your lunch. And tell Daisy hello for me.” With a friendly nod, she stepped off the sidewalk to cross the street.

Eve watched her go, feeling as if she’d lost a much-needed buffer. But she certainly couldn’t back out now—that would be not only rude but extremely awkward. So she gave Mr. Dawson a smile and indicated she was ready to proceed.

They turned at the next corner and Mr. Dawson pointed out businesses and landmarks along the way. Eve made appropriate responses, but her thoughts were on her current situation. She needed to continue her discussion with Leo as soon as possible so she could decide what to do next. Why had he run away? And what could someone as inept as she was do to help him?

A number of other folks on the sidewalk were going about their own business and quite a few of them greeted Mr. Dawson as they passed. Was it her imagination or were the smiles he received from the ladies, young and old alike, especially warm?

They’d gone about two blocks when a man hailed Chance and the three of them paused.

“Hi, Sheriff,” Chance said, “what can I do for you?”

Eve sensed Leo stiffen beside her. Was he worried that the sheriff would find out he’d stowed away? She instinctively placed a protective hand on his shoulder.

“Are you by any chance coming from the train station?” the lawman asked Chance.

Though the man’s smile was friendly enough and there was nothing threatening in his demeanor, something about the way he eyed her and Leo made Eve uncomfortable.

“Sure did.” Mr. Dawson, apparently sharing none of her something’s-wrong-here feeling, maintained an easy smile.

“I hear there was a bit of trouble over there. Something about a stowaway?”

Eve tried to draw Leo closer.

“That’s right,” Mr. Dawson answered, his face still relaxed. “But it’s all over now and nothing to get you involved in.”

Rather than commenting on that, the sheriff turned to her and Leo. “Care to introduce me to your friends, here?”

“Of course.” Mr. Dawson’s smile faded as he finally seemed to sense something was wrong. “Sheriff Gleason, this is Miss Eve Pickering and Leo. They just arrived on the morning train.”

Eve nodded a greeting, not trusting herself to speak. Did the lawman already know Leo was the stowaway? Surely he wouldn’t arrest a little boy.

The sheriff tipped his hat Eve’s direction. “Good day to you, ma’am.” Then he turned to her companion. “Leo, is it? That wouldn’t be short for Leonard Haskins would it?”

Not certain what was going on, Eve glanced down at Leo and was shocked to see most of the color had drained from his face. A heartbeat later Leo bolted, running down a side street like a cat with a hound on its tail. But Mr. Dawson was faster. Almost before Eve could react, the man had overtaken Leo and pulled him up short.

Mr. Dawson marched him back, his smoky blue eyes meeting hers sympathetically, almost apologetically.

But she couldn’t deal with that right now. Instead she focused on Leo. “What’s wrong? Why did you run?”

The boy didn’t say anything, didn’t even raise his head.

Still trying to make sense of what was going on, Eve turned to the sheriff. “Why are you looking for Leo?”

Sheriff Gleason gave her a steady look. “I think we’d all better head over to my office so we can straighten this out.”

* * *

Chance kept a firm hold on Leo’s arm as the four of them marched to Sheriff Gleason’s office in silence. This was obviously about more than just the kid being a stowaway. Was it merely a matter of his parents, or whoever was responsible for him, having tracked him down? Or was the boy in more serious trouble?

And just how much deeper did he want to get personally involved in this? Being intrigued by Miss Pickering was one thing, but getting embroiled in the problems of a runaway kid he knew nothing about was something else altogether.

Besides, that letter he’d received earlier was starting to burn a hole in his pocket. He could feel the weight of it there, demanding his attention with the same no-refusal-tolerated attitude his father had always used.

He’d been caught completely off guard by the sight of that bold, flourishing handwriting that was unmistakably his father’s. Why, after nearly a year and a half, was the man writing to him now? He’d figured the two of them had said everything they had to say to each other in that heated discussion just before he left Philadelphia. There’d been harsh, biting words on both sides. His father was not one to apologize, so that couldn’t be it. And it wouldn’t be in character for him to be inquiring after his youngest son’s well-being. So what was it?

Then a sobering thought occurred to him.

Had something happened to one of his brothers? Perhaps he should go ahead and—

“Here we are.”

The sheriff’s words brought Chance back to the present. And logic told him that if the news was dire in nature his father would have sent a telegram, not a letter. If the news, whatever it was, had waited long enough to get here by mail, a little more time wouldn’t make a difference. Even under normal circumstances he wouldn’t attempt to read something under the scrutiny of anyone, friend or stranger. And this particular letter made that doubly true.

Chance escorted Leo inside and had just about decided to bow out and make his exit, when he made the mistake of glancing Miss Pickering’s way. She looked so worried and confused.

Then she met his gaze and for just a moment he saw a plea there that tugged at all his protective instincts. But it was when she turned to face the sheriff and schooled her features, bracing herself, as if she were David preparing to face Goliath, that he was well and truly snagged.

How could he turn his back on such selfless courage?

He watched as she drew herself up to her limited height and turned back into that prim but fierce mouse he’d seen face down the conductor on the platform earlier.

“Sheriff Gleason,” she said, “please explain to me what this is all about.” There was no wavering in her tone, no indication of the dismay he’d seen on her face earlier.

The sheriff studied her a moment. “Are you this boy’s guardian, Miss Pickering?”

Now that was an interesting question. Just how would the very proper Miss Pickering answer?

Chapter Three

The knots inside Eve tightened another turn. Surely he wouldn’t dismiss her if she had no official relationship with Leo. If he did, who would stand up for the boy and look out for his interests? Mr. Dawson had been kind in a neighborly sort of way, but she wasn’t at all certain she could count on him to go the extra mile for the boy.

She tilted her chin up a bit higher. “Not officially, but I consider myself his friend and temporary protector.”

To her relief, the lawman nodded. “I see.” He turned and picked up a piece of paper from his desk. “I received this telegram earlier today. Officials from Bent Oak sent similar ones to lawmen all along the train route asking us to be on the lookout for a boy named Leonard Haskins who stole a valuable pocket watch. There were indications he might have slipped on board the train at Texarkana.”

He eyed Leo. “The boy’s description is a pretty good match for your young friend here.”

Just what kind of trouble was Leo in? “That doesn’t mean Leo is the boy in question, or that the charges are true. He needs to have an opportunity to speak for himself.”

The sheriff folded his arms with a nod. “I’m listening.”

Eve turned to Leo, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to tell us your side of the story.” She put as much support and encouragement in her expression as she could, but Leo looked more angry and desperate than reassured.

She tried again, this time adding firmness to her tone. “It’s always best to tell the truth. I promise I’m going to help you no matter what. But you need to do your part, as well.”

“I am Leonard Haskins,” he finally said.

“And the watch?” the sheriff pressed.

Leo reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out an ornate gold watch. He stared at the timepiece for a long moment, then held it out to the sheriff without a word.

The lawman took it and set it down on his desk.

Eve tried to maintain her composure. She was determined to stand by Leo, but would she be allowed to? Almost involuntarily, she glanced Mr. Dawson’s way and found her spirits buoyed by the encouraging look he gave her.

As if he’d been waiting on a cue from her, Mr. Dawson turned to Sheriff Gleason. “What happens now?”

“I’ll contact the sheriff responsible for Bent Oak and let him know we’ve recovered the watch and have the boy in custody. I imagine both Leo and the watch will be sent back to Bent Oak and—”

“No!” The exclamation exploded out of Leo as if from a gun. He would have darted out the door if Mr. Dawson hadn’t grabbed him.

“Whoa now.” Mr. Dawson stood solidly in place as Leo struggled frantically to get free.

It was all Eve could do not to rush over and try to still his struggles with an embrace.

When Leo finally gave up, he glared defiantly at the sheriff. “Lock me up for what I done if you have to, but don’t send me back there. I won’t go back to Mr. Belcher, I just won’t.” He was shaking with the intensity of his feelings.

“Leo, who is Mr. Belcher?”

Leo looked Eve’s way but for a moment he didn’t seem to really see her. After a heartbeat, though, his tension eased and his gaze met hers. “He’s the neighbor who took me in when my folks died. Only he wasn’t doing it ’cause he was feeling particularly kindly toward me.” The bitter edge to his voice was jarring coming from one so young. “After the funeral he told me my pa owed him a lot of money and since he couldn’t collect from him anymore, he aimed to see that I worked it off.”

Eve’s stomach clinched as she studied the boy’s raggedy appearance and bony frame in light of what he’d just said. She resisted the urge to reach out to him, knowing instinctively he’d shy away from physical contact just now. “Leo, did he treat you badly?” she asked gently.

The boy shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “I found out he was a mean old coot, especially when he was drunk.” He lifted his chin. “But I never let him see me cry.”

Everything inside her cried out at that telling statement. Who would treat a child like this? She saw Mr. Dawson’s jaw tighten, indicating he shared her outrage.

But Leo hadn’t finished saying his piece. “I finally figured two years of my working sunup to sundown should have paid off any debt my pa owed him, if he actually owed him anything in the first place. So a few nights ago I just up and left while he was still sleeping.” He gave them all a tight-jawed look. “And I don’t aim to go back, no matter what.”

“And the watch?” the sheriff asked.

Leo drew himself up. “I ain’t no thief. I took it because it was rightfully mine.”

“Yours?” The sheriff retrieved the timepiece and examined it. “This is a mighty expensive-looking item for a kid to own.”

“It was my pa’s. His great-granddad brought it over from England before he sailed here. He saved the life of some kind of nobleman and the man gave him that watch out of gratitude. My pa told me the story lots of times. He also said it would be mine someday.” His face twisted into a dark glower. “But then Mr. Belcher took it from me—said it would serve as pay for my upkeep.”

“That’s a fine story, son, and I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but can you prove it?” The lawman’s tone was firm without being confrontational.

“Look inside,” Leo answered. “Mr. Belcher tried to scratch them out, but there’s the initials CLH and the year 1807 in there. That’s my pa’s great-granddad Charles Lewis Haskins and the year he received the watch.” Then Leo shrugged. “If you still don’t believe me there’s likely someone back in Bent Oak who still remembers my pa carrying it when he went to church on Sunday.”

Satisfied, Eve turned to the sheriff. “You can’t arrest this boy for taking back what belongs to him. Especially after all he’s been through.”

The lawman raised a brow. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“I ain’t no liar.” Leo’s tone reflected his indignation.

Mr. Dawson stepped in again. “Look, Ward, you must have some way of checking out his story. Until you do, we don’t need to be in a hurry to send him back, do we?”

The sheriff rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I could make some inquiries. But until I hear back, I can’t just let the kid run loose. I mean, there’s no one to keep an eye on him while we wait.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself.” The boy drew his shoulders back and stood up straighter. “I been doing it the past two years anyway.”

Sheriff Gleason shook his head. “Even so, I can’t just let you out on your own until we get this matter straightened out.”

Eve laid a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I’ll take responsibility for him.”

The lawman gave her a look that was both sympathetic and uncompromising. “No offense, Miss Pickering, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what kind of caretaker you’d make for a boy who might just get it in his head to run off again.”

Eve turned to Leo. “Will you give me your solemn word that you won’t run away again as long as you are in my care?”

The boy stared at her for several moments and she could see the internal struggle in his face. Finally he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, so long as I’m in your care, I won’t run away.” He glanced back at the sheriff. “But I ain’t going back to Mr. Belcher’s.”

She turned back to the sheriff with satisfaction. “There. Leo won’t be any trouble for me to take care of while you work on getting this whole disagreeable situation put to rights.”

Sheriff Gleason, however, didn’t appear to be convinced. “Miss Pickering, until we get to the bottom of this, we don’t really know how good his word is, do we?”

She could understand the sheriff’s attitude. After all, it was his job to be suspicious and cautious. But deep in her heart she believed every bit of Leo’s story and she couldn’t bear the thought of him having to spend time locked up in jail, especially given what he’d already been through.

How could she convince the man to see things as she did? Dear Jesus, please help me find a way.

Aware the sheriff was waiting for her to speak, Eve took a deep breath, still not certain what she would say. But she knew she had to—

“How about I help Miss Pickering keep an eye on the boy?”

Eve turned and stared at Mr. Dawson. Had he just volunteered to help her save Leo? Maybe she had misjudged him after all.

* * *

Chance was as surprised by his offer as the rest of the people in the room seemed to be. He’d uttered the words without thought, spurred entirely by the urge to wipe the worry lines from Miss Pickering’s face.

He was always a pushover for a damsel in distress. This wasn’t the first time that weakness had gotten him in trouble.

But now that he’d blurted out his rash offer, he couldn’t very well take it back.

The distressed damsel and Sheriff Gleason spoke up at almost the same time.

“Mr. Dawson, that’s very kind, but I assure you—”

“Are you offering to take responsibility for seeing the boy doesn’t run off?”

Chance decided to ignore Miss Pickering’s protest and respond to the sheriff’s question instead. “Miss Pickering seems to think the boy’s word can be trusted and I’m willing to bank on that.” He gave Leo a pointed look. “At least until Leo gives me reason to think otherwise.”

The sheriff eyed him doubtfully. “That’s all well and good, but how do you plan to keep a close eye on him?”

That was a good question. But an idea was starting to form in the back of his mind. It was a bit unorthodox, but if he could pull it off, it would make him appear a hero with minimal effort on his part. And it might have the bonus of making for an interesting few days.

“I have an idea that might simplify matters for everyone. But I need to check on something before I explain.” He turned to Miss Pickering. “Can you wait about thirty minutes before we eat?”

“Of course. But what—”

He didn’t give her an opportunity to finish her question. “I’ll explain when I return.” He turned to the sheriff. “If it isn’t an inconvenience, perhaps our visitors could wait here in your office? I won’t be long.”

Sheriff Gleason took his cue and gave Miss Pickering a short bow. “Of course. You and Leo are welcome to make yourselves at home.”

But Miss Pickering was not to be denied her opportunity to protest. She had resumed her prim schoolmarm look and raised a hand. “Gentlemen, while I appreciate your attempt to assist Leo and me in this matter, don’t you think I should have some say in whatever it is you’re planning?”

Sheriff Gleason gave her a stern look. “Frankly, Miss Pickering, unless Chance here has a real good solution in mind, I don’t see how I can keep from locking the boy up, at least for as long as it takes me to get to the bottom of this matter.”

Chance tried one of his more persuasive smiles on her. “What do you say? Can you trust me to find a solution that’ll make everyone happy? Or at least reserve judgment until you hear what I have in mind?”

She didn’t seem particularly won over, but gave a slow nod. “I suppose that’s a fair request.”

So much for charming her. “Good girl.”

He saw the startled look at his familiar address, but she didn’t chide him again. Instead she turned to the sheriff. “Perhaps we can make good use of the time we’ll spend waiting for Mr. Dawson to carry out his mysterious errand. We can get started on whatever inquiries need to be made to clear up this matter with Leo.” She clasped her hands together. “After all, the sooner started, the sooner finished.”

“Good idea.” Sheriff Gleason moved around to the other side of his desk. “I’ll draft a telegram and send it off today.”

“Speaking of telegrams,” Chance said to Eve, “isn’t there someone in Tyler you need to notify about your postponed arrival?” He found it interesting that she seemed to have given so little thought to this sudden change in her own plans.

Miss Pickering’s eyes widened and she placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my goodness. How could I have forgotten about Mrs. O’Connell? I imagine she’ll be worried when I don’t get off the train. I must send her a telegram immediately.”

At least that had gotten her mind off quizzing him. “Well then, it looks like you folks won’t have much time to miss me. I’ll meet you back here in about a half hour.”

Chance smiled as he exited the sheriff’s office, headed for the boardinghouse. He’d succeeded in getting Miss Pickering to trust him, at least for the time being, and also in finding something to focus her attention on while he was gone. There was some hope that he could make a dent in her reserve yet. He grinned, relishing the thought of how much fun it would be to do that.

He’d have to get Dotty on board for his plan to work, but he didn’t foresee any problem with that. Knowing she would be key to helping Turnabout’s newest visitors be more comfortable would be all the incentive she needed.

Then his smile faded. Before talking to Dotty, there was one more thing he needed to do.

He’d put it off long enough. It was time to read the letter.

Chance turned his steps toward his own place. As soon as he was inside, he tore the envelope open. Taking a deep breath, he focused all his concentration on deciphering the words on the paper in his hands. Some days he had more success than others.

Today was not one of those days.

He tried again, straining his eyes until they ached with the effort. But it was no use. His brain refused to translate the markings on the paper into anything that made sense.

Frustrated and shamed once again by his inability to do what most schoolchildren did with little effort, Chance refolded the letter and shoved it back into his pocket. Sharing the news in this letter—whatever it was—wasn’t something he relished doing, but it seemed he had no choice.

Time to visit Dotty.

Ten minutes later he entered the parlor of the boardinghouse, where Dotty sat knitting.

“What, no bridge game?” he teased. “Did you just use that as an excuse not to have lunch with us?”

She set aside her needlework. “Not at all. Unfortunately Stanley wasn’t feeling well so we didn’t have enough folks to play.” Then she leaned back, a puzzled expression on her face. “Surely you and our stranded visitors haven’t had enough time to eat already?”

He took a seat across from her. “There’s been a slight change of plans. But I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

“Of course. The letter?”

Dotty knew of his affliction and had told him it was one her brother had shared. He’d hired her to take care of his account books, and she came over to his place twice a week, coincidentally on the days the newspaper was delivered. She not only handled his accounts, but she also took care of any paperwork he needed assistance with and read the newspaper to him.

Her matter-of-fact handling of the situation was a great balm to his wobbly self-esteem.

Now he pulled the letter from his pocket but didn’t hand it over immediately. “There’s that, of course. But there’s something else.”

“You’ve piqued my curiosity. But why don’t we get the letter out of the way first?”

Chance nodded as he handed it over. “It’s from my father.”

She tilted her head, giving him a considering look. “You don’t sound happy at the prospect of hearing from him.”

He grimaced. “My father is not one to write unless there is something he wants.”

Without further comment, she opened the letter and began reading.

Chauncey,

Dotty eyed him in amused surprise.

He shrugged, trying to hide his irritation. “It’s my given name. I’m not overly fond of it, but Father insists on using it.”

“I see.” She turned back to the letter.

When you left Philadelphia and headed for that backwater town in Texas, I told you that you would be welcome to return home when and if you gained some maturity and restraint, and were ready to accept both the responsibilities and privileges that come with being a member of this family. Since you have not yet taken advantage of this invitation in the year and a half that has passed since that day, it leaves me to wonder if you have learned anything at all from the experience.

Dotty was doing a good job of keeping her voice and expression neutral but she had to be wondering about the letter’s tone. That was his father, though, ready to get right to the heart of the matter without wasting time worrying about trivial matters such as how one was getting on.

Dotty continued:

Therefore I have decided that I will come to visit you to see what kind of life you’ve managed to build for yourself. And while I’m there, we can use some of that time to discuss your future.

I imagine you are thinking that there is nothing for us to discuss, but in that you would be mistaken. As it happens, it recently came to my attention that you have mortgaged your place to invest in a new venture. It may interest you to know that I now own that note, so yes, I do have some stake in your future.

You can expect me to arrive by mid-December and I will plan to spend Christmas with you before returning to Philadelphia.

Dotty looked back up as she refolded the letter. “And he signs it Your father, Woodrow Dawson.”

Everything inside Chance had tensed as Dotty read his father’s words, drawing tighter and tighter, like a clockwork spring that would soon explode out of its case.

A moment later he took a deep breath and forced his fists to unclench. It wouldn’t do to let Dotty see just how strongly the letter had affected him.

“I thank you for taking the time to read that for me.”

She handed him the letter. “It sounds like you will have family with you for Christmas this year.”

That was Dotty, always looking for the silver lining. He attempted a grin. “As you can no doubt tell, my father and I did not part on the best of terms.”

“Perhaps his upcoming visit will be an opportunity for the two of you to remedy that.”

Not a chance. But he merely smiled and changed the subject. “Now, if I can impose on you to discuss the other favor I came here to ask.”

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, Chance was out the door and headed back to the sheriff’s office. Dotty had, of course, readily agreed to his scheme. But his pleasure in that was marred by the knowledge of his father’s upcoming visit and what had prompted it.

When he left Philadelphia, he’d thought he was out from under his father’s thumb for good. He should have known the despot wouldn’t let it go. That thinly veiled threat in the letter was typical of the way his father handled disagreements.

And now the man held the note to his business. What a wretched situation. If he’d known this would be the outcome he’d never have risked borrowing the money in the first place. His excitement over the work he was doing to improve the stationary engine was quickly turning to ashes. But most of the money had been spent now and there was no going back.

Having his autocratic father arrive on his doorstep in a matter of weeks spelled nothing but trouble. For the man to decide to dedicate so much of his valuable time to the planned visit was certainly out of character. Which also signaled that something important was afoot.

No matter what leverage his father thought he held over him, if he expected Chance to be any more willing to bow to his strictures now than he had in the past, he would be in for a major disappointment.

Which was how their interactions usually left his father.

How in the world had the man managed to insinuate himself into his black-sheep-of-a-son’s life again? How had he even learned about the loan?

Chance intended to get answers to those questions before he faced his father again.

And this time there would be one key difference in their confrontation. His father would be coming to him, a guest in his town, in his home—not the other way around.

And that was a strategic advantage Chance planned to make the most of.

Chapter Four

Eve waited impatiently for Mr. Dawson to return from his errand. She and the sheriff had sent their telegrams and the three of them had returned to his office several minutes ago. The sheriff was now doing some paperwork and Leo was gloomily staring out the window.

Eve chided herself for her self-absorption. As hard as this wait was for her, it must be ten times worse for him. At least she’d had her grandmother to care for her when she’d been abandoned. Leo had had no one when his parents passed away.

Heavenly Father, help me to remember that no matter how bad I may think my lot is, there is always someone struggling with something far worse.

The door swung open and Eve was relieved to see Mr. Dawson step through. About time! She popped up and met his gaze. “Well?”

His grin had an impudent quality to it. “Glad to see you missed me.”

She waved a hand impatiently—a poor substitute for stomping her foot. Didn’t he realize how anxious she was feeling? “I’m pleased to see you find some amusement in this situation, sir, but I assure you I do not. Are you ready to share your plan?”

“I am. And I’m happy to say I think this will be the answer to the sheriff’s concerns. Not to mention, to some of your problems, as well.”

Sheriff Gleason stood and came around to lean a hip on his desk. “Let’s hear it then.”

“My idea is to have Miss Pickering and Leo move into my place until we’ve settled the matter of Leo’s culpability to everyone’s satisfaction. I’ve got plenty of room over there and it’ll be good to have a bit of company for a change.”

Eve stiffened. How dare he? What kind of woman did he think she was? “Mr. Dawson, this is not only unacceptable but highly insulting. I—”

He stopped her by raising his palm and rudely speaking over her objections. “Please, hear me out. I assure you, I’ve taken the proprieties into account. I spoke to Dotty and she’s agreed to move in as well, so there will be no fodder for the gossip mills or hint of scandal associated with the situation.”

Eve took a deep breath and her face heated as she realized she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “My apologies.”

He gave a short bow. “You’re forgiven.”

His good humor only made her feel worse. After all, his offer was generous. It not only provided a solution to the sheriff’s concerns but also solved the problem of where she and Leo would sleep tonight.

On the other hand it still didn’t sound quite proper. She couldn’t help wondering what her grandmother and aunts would think if they heard. They would undoubtedly be horrified. And they’d say it was typical of her ability to embarrass them with her thoughtless ways.

Then she lifted her chin again. They had sent her into exile, so her behavior was no longer their concern.

The sheriff eyed Mr. Dawson as he rubbed his chin. “If you’re willing to keep an eye on the boy and take responsibility for him sticking around, then I guess I’m okay with releasing him to your custody.”

To his custody? “Just a minute, gentlemen. I thought everyone here understood that, while Mr. Dawson has generously agreed to assist, I am taking responsibility for Leo’s care.”

“Of course,” Mr. Dawson said quickly. “You would undeniably have the final word in the matter of Leo’s care. I’m just going to be close by if needed. Trust me. I plan to leave all the guardianship duties to you.”

His assurance mollified her concerns, but contrarily, she was also a tad disappointed at his ready capitulation. It seemed he wanted to step in and save the day but not take any real responsibility. What kind of white knight was that?

Nevertheless, thanks to him they’d have a roof over their heads and warm beds to sleep in tonight.

Eve took a deep breath and formed a quick, silent prayer. Thank You, Jesus. You have provided for our immediate needs, and used this stranger to do so. Help me to remember Your promise that we are never alone when we put our faith in You.

“Now,” Mr. Dawson said, “why don’t we go have that bite to eat we were discussing earlier?”

When they stepped back out on the sidewalk, Eve gave her temporary landlord a smile. “Let me thank you, Mr. Dawson, for your generosity toward Leo and myself. I assure you we will try to impose on you as little as possible during our stay.”

He made a dismissive gesture. “As I said, there’s lots of room and I like company, so I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” He spread his hands. “And please, I’d take it as a favor if you’d drop that fusty-sounding Mr. Dawson nonsense and just call me Chance.”

Eve stiffened and felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. “That would be highly improper. I barely know you.”

“Nothing improper about it. We’re now members of the same household, at least for the next few days. And I assure you, folks around here are pretty informal about such things.”

She mentally struggled with her notions of propriety versus her desire to be polite. She didn’t want to risk insulting him after all he’d done. “I don’t know—”

He cut off her protest, adding a cajoling note to his voice. “Oh, come now. I would consider it a favor.”

This seemed genuinely important to him. And she could avoid using his name for the most part. She nodded with a conciliatory smile. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

The touch of triumph in the grin that accompanied his words should have irritated her, but for some reason it didn’t.

Then he swept an arm to his left. “Shall we? Daisy’s Restaurant is just a couple of blocks in this direction.”

Mr. Dawson—she still couldn’t think of him by his first name—set a sedate pace for them, giving Eve time to study the town as they strolled. Since this was to be her home for the next couple of days, she wanted to learn as much about it as she could. And it gave her something to focus on other than the distracting man walking beside her.

The rumbling from Leo’s stomach was getting more insistent.

Chance smiled down at the boy. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there in just a few minutes. I’m getting hungry myself.” Then he glanced her way. “You’re going to like the food at Daisy’s. She’s one of the finest cooks around here.”

Eve raised a brow at that. “That’s quite a claim.”

His brow arched. “You doubt me? I assure you, it’s the absolute truth. Daisy’s had the restaurant open for only a few months and already she has quite a contingent of regulars.”

This kind of teasing banter was new to her and it flustered her a bit—but in a not unpleasant way. “Well, after such glowing praise, I am definitely looking forward to trying it out for myself.”

He rewarded her with an appreciative grin. “You won’t be disappointed.” He waved to a two-story building they were approaching. “This is where our local newspaper, the Turnabout Gazette, gets printed. Daisy’s husband, Everett, runs the place.”

“How exciting to have such easy access to a newspaper.”

“I don’t know about exciting,” he said dryly, “but it is handy. Everett prints the paper twice weekly and, don’t tell him I said so, but he does a good job of mixing local and national news.”

Then he nodded to the adjoining building. “Daisy’s Restaurant is right next door.” A moment later, he gave a flourishing wave. “And here we are.”

Eve eyed the sign hanging above the door and smiled in delight. “Oh, how clever. And how welcoming.” The Daisy’s Restaurant sign was painted in colorful, cheery letters and the i had been dotted with a drawing of a daisy. This already felt like a friendly place.

Chance grinned. “Daisy painted that herself, and it really speaks to who she is.”

When they stepped inside, he waved to the woman behind the counter. “Hello, Daisy. I’ve brought a couple of newcomers in to sample your cooking.” He gave her a cheeky smile. “And I’ll give you fair warning that I’ve been bragging on you, so you need to treat them to your best.”

The woman lifted her chin and placed a hand on her hip. “Chance Dawson, you know good and well I give all my customers my best.” While the words were said in a chiding tone, her smile indicated she hadn’t really taken offense.

As she bustled out from behind the counter it became apparent that she was with child. And that she wasn’t letting it slow her down.

Daisy turned to Eve and Leo. “Hello. I’m always glad to see new faces in here. I’m Daisy Fulton and I’m right pleased to welcome you to Turnabout and to my restaurant.”

“Thank you. I’m Eve Pickering.” Eve placed and hand on Leo’s shoulder. “And this is Leo.”

Daisy smiled down at the boy. “Pleased to meet you, too, Leo.” Then she turned back to Eve. “Are you folks friends of Chance’s?” She cast Mr. Dawson a teasing look. “He’s always been a mite closemouthed about his life before he moved here.”

Eve wasn’t quite certain how to respond to that, but fortunately Mr. Dawson spoke up first.

“These two are recent acquaintances,” he said. Then he assumed a haughty expression. “And as for my past, I like being a man of mystery.”

Daisy rolled her eyes and cast a can-you-believe-him look Eve’s way. “Some mystery.” She turned back to Chance. “Chance Dawson, you are the least mysterious man I know.”

Eve didn’t bother to hide her grin. She was getting her first taste of what it felt like to be among folks who didn’t know her history and she liked it. Very much.

Then Daisy waved them to the only unoccupied table. “I shouldn’t be chattering on like this when y’all came in here to eat. Just have a seat. The menu is posted on the board above the counter. Study it and then give me a wave when you’re ready to order.”

They moved to the table she’d indicated and Eve was startled when Chance held her chair for her. She wasn’t used to such deference. As they took their seats, she studied the room with interest. The walls were painted the color of daffodils and the windows were flanked by cheery floral curtains hemmed with ruffles, tied back to let in the sunlight. Grandmother would disapprove of such frivolity, but Eve decided she liked it.

There were seven other tables in the place, and the occupants seemed to be enjoying their meals, lending weight to Mr. Dawson’s earlier claims. She noticed the patrons were also trying to study her and Leo without being too obvious. But their curiosity seemed friendly enough and she found herself on the receiving end of more than one neighborly smile.

What really snagged and held Eve’s attention, however, was the far wall, where three tall, sturdy bookcases stood behind a small table that obviously served as someone’s desk. Both bookcases were crammed full of volumes of various sizes and colors. Such a wealth of reading material—it was all Eve could do not to cross over to read the titles.

Forcing herself to look away from the books, Eve turned back to read the menu, but not before she caught Mr. Dawson staring at her. He actually had the audacity to smile and lean back in his chair, continuing to study her.

She decided to ignore him and instead focus on the chalkboard. Unfortunately she remained uncomfortably aware of his gaze. As she read the menu, she studied the prices more than the food choices. She had to be careful with her funds—the pittance she had wouldn’t last long.

“If you’re having trouble deciding,” Mr. Dawson said a moment later, “I’d recommend the rabbit stew. It’s Daisy’s Tuesday special and always delicious.” His tone held no hint that he’d recognized her earlier discomfort.

Leo nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds good.”

Mr. Dawson turned to her. “Shall I make that three orders?”

Eve studied the price and hesitated. Then she nodded. “Very well.” A nice filling stew would hold her for the remainder of the day. And she did need to keep her strength up for the uncertainty ahead.

Mr. Dawson raised a hand to let Daisy know they were ready, and placed their order. Then he returned his attention to Eve. “I saw you studying Abigail’s library a moment ago. I take it you enjoy reading.”

Eve nodded, allowing a small smile to escape. “Very much.” It was one of her guilty pleasures—one she hadn’t had much opportunity to indulge in since she’d graduated from school.

“Perhaps you can get a closer look at the books once we’ve completed our meal and pick out something to read while you’re in town.”

“You mean they just let folks take them?” Did they value books so little here?

He shrugged. “It’s a circulating library, which means the books are available to all subscribers. But Abigail always lets you have the first one free.”

It was tempting, but she wouldn’t really be here in town very long. And she didn’t need to be beholden to yet another stranger. Rather than going into that with him, though, she settled for making a noncommittal sound.

Apparently taking that as agreement, he changed the subject. “I believe you said you were headed to Tyler to find employment as a milliner’s apprentice?”

“That’s correct.” Had Mrs. O’Connell received her telegram yet? What was she thinking about her truant would-be apprentice?

“Is becoming a milliner something you have a burning desire to do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

What would he do if she said she did mind his asking? “A friend of my grandmother’s runs a millinery shop in Tyler. Apparently she gets an increase in orders in the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas so she agreed to hire me on a trial basis for now. Once the New Year gets here, we are to both evaluate whether to continue the arrangement.”

It wasn’t really an answer to his specific question, and the look he gave her said he knew it. But he didn’t press further. Instead, he turned to Leo. “And what about you?”

Leo shrugged. “The same.” He traced a circle on the table. “I mean, I was looking for a big city, somewhere where I could find work and not stand out.”

Mr. Dawson stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You know, if it’s work you’re looking for, Leo, you don’t have to go all the way to Tyler. There’s work to be had right here in Turnabout.”

That caught Eve’s interest. If she could find some temporary work here, it would give her an opportunity to replenish some of the funds she’d have to spend on meals and such before moving on. “What sort of work?”

He spread his hands. “I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, just that folks are always needing work done.”

She swallowed her disappointment. Before she could make any sort of response, however, he turned to Leo. “In fact, things get pretty messy in my shop when I’ve got work piled up. I’ve been looking for someone to clean up around the place and help me keep things in order—you know sweep up, fetch things for me, run errands. That sort of thing.”

Leo sat up straighter. “I could do that.”

Mr. Dawson wrinkled his brow, as if the idea was something he hadn’t yet considered, but Eve could tell it was what he’d been leading up to all along.

“Do you really think so?” the man asked. “I mean, it’s hard work and I couldn’t afford to pay much.”

But Leo was leaning forward eagerly. “That’s okay. I don’t mind the work, and I’ll need some money to get by on once the sheriff finds out I’m not lying.”

Eve lightly touched his arm but kept her gaze on Chance. “Of course, since you are so generously opening your home to us, Leo and I will be happy to pitch in and help with the chores as much as we are able. And we wouldn’t dream of taking payment.” She withdrew her hand but gave Leo a pointed look. “Isn’t that right?”

Leo’s expression lost its eager edge, but he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She was pleased to have her faith in him proved true. But his comment about needing money to get by concerned her. Did the boy truly believe he would be allowed to go off on his own once matters were settled? He would need a guardian of some sort, whether he wanted one or not. But perhaps now was not the time to open that avenue of conversation.

However, it did bring up the question of just what would happen to him. And right now she didn’t have an answer.

Their food arrived then, delivered by a younger girl with reddish-gold hair and a saucy smile.

“Hello, Abigail,” Mr. Dawson greeted her. “Don’t tell me Daisy let you into her kitchen.”

“And just why would that come as a surprise to you?” The girl gave him an indignant look. “You don’t think Daisy is the only member of this family who can cook, do you?”

Mr. Dawson leaned back and raised his hands as if she’d attacked him. “Far be it from me to question your talents, in any arena.”

The girl responded to his obvious teasing with a smile. “Actually, I’m in training. I’ll be taking over for a few weeks after the baby comes.”

Then she turned to Eve as she set a dish in front of her. “And since Chance here seems to have forgotten his manners, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Abigail Fulton. Daisy’s husband is my brother.”

They exchanged greetings as Abigail set out the food, then the girl disappeared back into the kitchen.

Eve noted the way Leo dug his spoon into his bowl, as if he hadn’t eaten for days, which he well may not have. But there were other ways to nourish him, as well.

She briefly touched his arm. “Shall we say grace first?”

Leo set his spoon down, his cheeks turning red. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

She smiled. “No need to apologize. We all forget sometimes.” She turned to Mr. Dawson. “Would you care to lead us?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished them back. She’d put him on the spot! What if he wasn’t comfortable with praying aloud?

Had her deplorable tendency to act first and think later caused her yet another misstep?

Chapter Five

Chance could tell from her expression that she wasn’t certain he’d comply. Actually, while he didn’t always remember to do so, he had no trouble at all offering up a prayer. His mother had taught him well before she passed. And while he’d had more than a few bouts of rebellion growing up, and still questioned why he’d been saddled with such a shameful affliction, he’d never really lost faith in the Almighty.

He nodded and folded his hands, elbows on the table. “Heavenly Father, bless this meal we are about to partake of, and watch over these visitors who have unexpectedly arrived in our community. Let them feel welcome here, for whatever time they may be with us. In Your Son’s name we pray. Amen.”

His companions echoed his amen, then they all picked up their spoons.

Chance had seen Eve’s keen interest in the newspaper office when they’d passed by earlier. He’d also noticed the longing looks she’d sent toward Abigail’s library when they first entered the restaurant. She obviously enjoyed reading—a pastime he envied but could never share.

He decided to circle back to the question she’d tried to sidestep earlier. “So, Eve, do you have a burning desire to become a hat maker?”

He saw the walls go up in her expression and thought for a moment she’d ignore his question again. But he maintained an expression of innocent curiosity, and she finally responded politely, even if not altogether warmly.

“My taking a position as a milliner was actually my grandmother’s idea,” she said carefully. “The opportunities for employment in Iron Bluff are very limited so she contacted her friend Mrs. O’Connell, who graciously offered to take me in and train me.”

Now, why was a sheltered young woman such as this worrying about employment in the first place—shouldn’t she instead be finding a husband? Or was there a dearth of marriageable bachelors in Iron Bluff?

“I’m quite grateful for the opportunity,” she added as she reached for her glass.

His questions had definitely brought back that stiff, schoolmarm demeanor in her. How much further would she let him press?

She set her glass down and faced him evenly. “As for your earlier question, I’m not so set on millinery work that I wouldn’t be willing to do work of other kinds while I am here in Turnabout—housekeeper, cook, laundress— whatever might be available.”

Did she truly want to find a job while she was here? Perhaps she didn’t understand the arrangement he had offered her. “That’s not necessary. I don’t plan to charge you and Leo for the rooms. After all, they’re just sitting empty right now and it won’t cost me anything for you to stay there.”

Her lips pursed primly. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not one to sit idle. Besides which, having a bit of pocket money would not go amiss.”

Was she low on funds? He’d noticed the way she’d studied the menu with that furrow between her brows. He’d thought she was just trying to decide on a selection, but perhaps she’d been worrying about the prices. Finances could be a touchy subject, though, so he’d have to tread carefully. “I’ll ask around and keep my ears open.” He saw the quickly masked disappointment in her face. So she’d been serious about wanting to find work. He was curious to learn more. “Tell me, if you could have any job at all, what would you really like to do?”

He watched her swirl her spoon through the bowl of stew. “I’ve never really thought about that before.”

That struck Chance as a very sad statement. Didn’t she know how to dream? “Well, think about it now.”

She was quiet for another moment. Then a slow, smile blossomed on her face. “I’d open a confectionery.”

“What’s a confectionery?” Leo asked.

She gave him an impish smile. “It’s like a candy store.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness, wouldn’t that be a grand place to work?”

Eve laughed and it totally transformed her face. She really was quite pretty when she allowed herself to relax. “That it would,” she said.

“Why a confectionery?” Her answer had surprised him, but he was delighted by the unexpectedness of it.

She took on a faraway look. “When I was a schoolgirl, my Sunday school teacher would invite some of her students into her home at Christmastime. We would make all sorts of wondrous treats. She taught us to make fudge and caramels and pralines and all manner of sweet things—just bowls and platters full of them.”

“What did you do with all that candy?” Leo asked. “Did you get to eat it?”

She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Some. Because, of course, we’d have to taste it along the way, just to make certain it had turned out okay, you understand.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Chance said. He found himself entranced by the softness in her now.

She cut a quick look his way, as if to make certain he wasn’t making fun of her, then nodded and turned back to Leo.

“But we packed up the majority of those treats very carefully and sent the packages off to several orphanages as Christmas treats.”

Chance was enjoying this sweet, playful side of her. But before he could comment, she seemed to realize that she’d revealed more of herself than she’d intended.

She straightened and dipped her spoon purposefully into her bowl. “Anyway, it turned out that I was very good at candy making. Miss Trosclair said I had a real knack for it.”

Chance shook his head apologetically. “I’m afraid Turnabout doesn’t have a confectionary shop so we can’t offer you a job like that.”

She nodded politely but that earlier softness was gone. “Having such a job would be nice, but as I said, I’ll take whatever I can find.” Then she gave him a pointed look. “I think it’s my turn to ask a few questions.”

Turning the tables on him was she? Good for her. “Ask away.”

“Something Daisy said when we walked in makes me think you’re not from here originally. So where are you from and how long have you lived in Turnabout?”

Easy enough questions to answer. “I was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And I’ve been here about a year and a half.”

Her brows went up. “You traveled a far piece to get here—much farther than either me or Leo.”

If only she knew. “True. But I consider Turnabout home now.”

“And you came all this way on your own?”

“Not exactly.” How much should he share with her? Better stick with just the bare minimum. “There were four of us who traveled together,” he continued. There was no point in mentioning that the catalyst had been an unorthodox marriage lottery they’d all participated in.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Four city folk from Philadelphia decided to come to Turnabout, Texas?”

He grinned. “That we did.”

“Why?”

Now her questions were getting a little more personal. “Business reasons.” Technically true. “Not to say we planned to go into business together—just travel together. Daisy’s husband, Everett, was one of my travel companions. Adam Barr, the town’s banker and lawyer, and Mitch Parker, the schoolteacher, were the other two. We’ve all found our own reasons to stay.” Though the four men had become friends after their arrival here, he’d never pried into what reasons they’d had for agreeing to the constraints that had been laid on them at the outset of their trip. Just as he’d never shared his own.

“So you’ve all stayed and become part of the town. That says a lot for the place. It must be special.”

He nodded. “I’ve seen evidence that Turnabout lives up to its name. It’s a good place for starting over and turning your life around.” At least it had been for him and the others who’d traveled here with him.

But Chance had had enough of talking about himself. Figuring Eve probably needed time to think over the events of the day, he turned to Leo and kept up a steady stream of light, easy chatter with the boy through the rest of the meal. Leo seemed like a good kid. He also appeared to be more mature and guarded than most boys his age, but that was no doubt due to what he’d been through these past couple of years. If his story were true, this Belcher fellow deserved a flogging or worse.

Leo was the first to finish his bowl and Chance immediately ordered seconds for him with just a quick hand signal, barely missing a beat in the conversation.

When Eve finished her bowl he started to do the same, but she quickly let him know she’d had enough.

At one point, Abigail came around to check on them. “How was everything?”

“Delicious,” Eve answered.

“I’ll let Daisy know you enjoyed it.”

“And just where is Daisy?” Chance asked. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Abigail began collecting their dishes. “Everett came by to check on her and insisted she get off her feet for a few minutes. Of course, Daisy rolled her eyes at him, but since the lunch rush is about over she agreed to let me see to things for a while.” She grinned. “Everett convinced her I needed the practice.”

Remembering Eve’s earlier interest in the library, and guessing she wouldn’t broach the subject on her own, Chance decided to make it easier for her.

“How’s the library business these days?” he asked casually.

Abigail immediately became more animated. “Very good. I signed another subscriber yesterday and I’m planning to purchase several new titles right after Christmas.” She sighed dramatically. “I miss having Constance partnering with me, but she absolutely loves her new job assisting Mr. Flaherty at the apothecary shop.”

Chance nodded. “Mr. Flaherty seems pleased with the job she’s doing.” He glanced Eve’s way, waiting for her to speak up. But when she didn’t jump into the conversational opening, he decided to be more direct. “Speaking of your library, Miss Pickering here is interested in taking a look at your selection of books.”

He sensed her stiffening without even looking her way. Didn’t she know he was trying to help?

But Abigail apparently noticed nothing amiss. “Of course.” The girl gave Eve a big smile. “I’d be glad to loan you a book, free of charge. Sort of a welcome-to-town gift, for you to read while you’re here.”

His companion shook her head, though this time there was nothing firm about the gesture. “That’s very kind, but I don’t want to take advantage—”

“Not at all.” Abigail lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. “Besides, it’s good advertisement if folks see people borrowing my books.” She waved toward the bookshelves. “Feel free to look over what’s available while I clear these dishes.”

Chance could see Eve’s resolve wavering as she stared longingly at the bookshelves. Deciding she needed another nudge, he stood and pulled her chair out for her. Pitching his voice so only she could hear, he whispered, “It would be an insult for you to refuse Abigail’s offer.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “I certainly wouldn’t want to offer her any insult.” She glanced again toward the shelves. “Perhaps I’ll go over and just take a look.”

He watched her cross the room and then slowly, almost reverently, run her fingers along the rows of books, taking her time studying the various titles. What kind of book would she select? Would her prim and proper side win out and have her select a volume of dry essays or sermons? Or would her more daring side win out and point her to some more entertaining work of fiction?

She pulled out a book and smiled as she silently read a passage. Suddenly, that familiar kick of jealousy tinged with shame twisted his gut and he turned away.

“Why is she so excited about a bunch of books?” Leo asked, wrinkling his nose.

Chance pushed his ugly emotions aside and smiled down at the boy. “You’d be surprised how many people enjoy reading,” he answered. “There are a lot of adventures to be found between the pages of a good book.” Some of his favorite memories were of his mother reading to him as a boy.

“Adventures?” That had obviously grabbed his attention.

Did the boy know how to read? If his story was true, he likely hadn’t seen the inside of a schoolroom since he was eight years old, if at all. Maybe he should have a talk with Mitch about how to get Leo prepared for returning to the classroom eventually.

Then Chance pulled himself up short. He wasn’t the kid’s father and he certainly wasn’t planning to make this little diversion a long-term commitment. He had too many problems of his own right now. Once the boy’s guilt or innocence was determined, there would be decisions to be made about him, decisions that, one way or the other, would relieve Chance of any future responsibility.

With the unexpected visit from his father looming, he’d have plenty of other issues to deal with during the next few weeks.

Chance glanced toward Eve, who was still studying the bookshelves with single-minded focus. Did she realize she’d have to hand over Leo to someone else soon? Unless she intended to adopt the boy, which didn’t seem likely given what little she’d revealed about her circumstances. Just how deep did her attachment go? Would she walk away gracefully and let the authorities do what must be done?

She finally plucked a book from the shelves and turned to rejoin them. Pausing at the desk, she dutifully wrote in the ledger, apparently following the directions the trusting Abigail had posted.

“What did you select?” he asked when she returned.

She held up a small book bound in leather with dark red lettering on the front. To his relief, she also described her selection. “It’s a book of poetry.”

Well now, wasn’t that an unexpected and interesting choice?

So she did have a less straight-laced, more romantic side to her, even if it was buried a bit deep.

Yep, the next few days could prove interesting indeed.

Chapter Six

Eve clutched the borrowed book to her chest as they left the restaurant, feeling one part guilt and one part excitement. She shouldn’t have taken advantage of Abigail’s generosity the way she had, but the idea of having a book to read had been too irresistible a temptation.

They made a quick stop at the sheriff’s office to retrieve her carpetbag and then headed for Mr. Dawson’s place.

Eve still felt uncomfortable with the idea of moving into the home of an unmarried man, especially one she’d met only a few hours ago, but accepted that she had little choice in the matter. The fact that Dotty and the sheriff saw nothing amiss with the plan did reassure her. And she was selfishly glad Mr. Dawson had tapped Dotty to play the part of chaperone. She’d liked the woman almost on sight.

“Tell me,” she asked Mr. Dawson, “what sort of business are you in?”

Was that a wince? Had she overstepped with her question?

But almost immediately he was flashing one of his carefree grins again. Perhaps she’d been mistaken, let her fancy run away with her as her grandmother often accused.

“I repair mechanical devices,” he said.

“Mechanical?”

“Yes, I tinker around with all sorts of machinery— stationary engines, grandfather clocks, sewing machines—I repair and adjust them when they break down.”

Leo’s eyes lit up. “Are you working on anything right now?”

Mr. Dawson rubbed his jaw, but she saw a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, let’s see. Mrs. Carlisle’s sewing machine is giving her problems so I’m taking a look at it for her. And I’ve been spending a lot of my time lately tinkering with a stationary engine.”

Leo nodded solemnly as if he knew exactly what Mr. Dawson was talking about.

“Of course, you might be more interested in the mechanical toys I’ve taken apart just to see how they work.”

Leo’s face brightened further. “Can I help with that?”

“We’ll see. There’s one other thing I work with that might interest you—I spend time making certain my motor carriage stays in good working order.”

Leo stopped in his tracks, his eyes growing rounder. “You have a motor carriage?” He said it as if Mr. Dawson had just admitted to having a pirate’s treasure hidden in his shop.

Even Eve was impressed with the announcement. She’d heard of motor carriages but had never actually seen such a thing.

“That I do,” he answered proudly.

“Can I see it?” Leo was practically bouncing with excitement.

Mr. Dawson waved a hand to indicate they should move forward again. “You can not only see it, you can sit in it if you like.” He turned to Eve. “Both of you.”

Eve wasn’t at all certain that was something either she or Leo should agree to. Was it safe? But she settled for smiling and giving him a noncommittal “We shall see” response.

As they turned the corner, Eve saw a building that had the unmistakable trappings of a saloon—most notably the swinging half doors and the faded but still legible sign proclaiming the name of the establishment to be The Blue Bottle.

She looked around at the neighboring buildings. Was Mr. Dawson’s place nearby? She wasn’t comfortable being in close proximity to such a place, but if that was the case she would do her best to make it work. She’d just have to keep a close eye on Leo to make certain he was shielded from any unsavory influences.

“From the frown on your face, I see you have some concerns about The Blue Bottle.”

Eve gave him a direct look. “I’m not afraid to admit that I don’t approve of such establishments.”

He seemed amused by her words. “You can rest assured that the place no longer serves as a saloon.”

Mollified by his words, she relaxed. “That is good news. Did the town close it?”

“No, I’m afraid providence did. It was shut down by a fire. It happened before I ever moved here.”

“Oh.” They were drawing closer now and she frowned as she studied the structure. “But it seems to be undamaged and still in use.”

“The inside has been renovated, and yes, it’s still in use. In fact I own it now.”

Oh, my goodness. She stopped in her tracks just as they reached the corner of the building. That meant—

His grin had a mischievous edge. “That’s right. I have my shop on the first floor and my living quarters on the second.”

“You mean this is where we’re going to be staying?”

He swept his hand forward with a flourish. “In all its glory.”

A former saloon, of all things. Somehow it seemed very in character for this unorthodox gent to have set up shop in such an establishment. She slowly approached the entrance, feeling decidedly uncomfortable about what she might see inside. Just the idea of what all must have taken place in a former saloon was enough to send the warmth into her cheeks and her grandmother’s scandalized voice resounding in her mind.

Which was foolish, she told herself firmly. It was merely a building and nothing more. Lifting her chin, she pushed through the swinging doors and stepped into a very large undivided room that took up most of the lower floor. She’d never been inside a saloon before, of course, so she’d had no idea what to expect.

To her relief, Mr. Dawson was as good as his word and there were very few traces remaining of the former den of iniquity. The most obvious remnant of the building’s former purpose sat to her left—what had obviously been the counter where the drinks were dispensed. There was still a brass rail on the lower portion where she imagined men had propped their boots as they partook of the bar’s offerings. Looking closer, though, there was something odd about the counter, as if part of it had been lopped off. A result of the fire perhaps?

As for the rest of the room, the section nearest the doors was bare except for two round tables that had been shoved together to the left of the entrance. Three unmatched wooden chairs, at least one of which bore scorch marks, flanked them. Is that where he entertained visitors? Assuming he ever had visitors.

Across the room, however, it was a different story. The area was as crowded and cluttered as this side was bare. A pair of long worktables along with three smaller round ones were arranged in a seemingly random manner, all cluttered with an odd assortment of unidentifiable metal parts. There were also tools, jars, canisters, rags and crates scattered here and there. That was it. The walls were bare and there weren’t any domestic touches to speak of. Nor was it what one would call neat and tidy.

This place was definitely more of a workshop than a home. “You have done a good job of erasing the signs of a fire.”

“Thanks. I had to replace the staircase and a large portion of the floor. There was some damage to the far end of the counter but it’s such a fine piece of workmanship that I couldn’t bear to scrap the whole thing. And that east wall needed extensive repairs.”

He pointed to the opposite wall, where she could see doors. “Thankfully the other rooms down here—the kitchen, office and storage room—suffered very little damage.”

“So the building is now sound structurally?”

“Definitely.” Then Mr. Dawson smiled without visible embarrassment. “Sorry for the mess. I like to take things apart in order to figure out how they work—or at least try to. Sometimes I don’t get them put back together right away.”

While her host talked, Eve kept an eye on Leo, who was already halfway across the room. “Don’t touch anything,” she warned him. She was as concerned for the boy’s safety amid Mr. Dawson’s mishmash of metal parts and wires as she was for the items themselves. Then she eyed the cluttered tables again. How did the man keep up with where everything was? “Do you work alone?”

“That I do. There’s barely enough paying work here to keep one man busy. But it’s slowly picking up. And I have some plans for diversifying and expanding my business.”

Something about his tone seemed odd. But before Eve could push further, Leo spoke up from across the room.

“You know how to fix all of this stuff?” There was a touch of awe in his tone.

Chance shrugged. “Most of it. And I haven’t given up on the rest. I like trying to solve puzzles.”

Eve smiled. She rather liked puzzles herself, but she had a feeling the two of them had entirely different activities in mind.

“Do you think I could learn, too?” Leo asked wistfully.

“I don’t see why not—so long as you’re willing to really work at it.”

Eve was torn between being glad he hadn’t squashed Leo’s enthusiasm, and worrying that he was giving the boy false hope. After all, depending on what the sheriff’s inquiries revealed, Leo might not be in Turnabout for very long.

Mr. Dawson raised a brow. “But you can start by learning how to keep this place neat and clean.”

Eve swallowed a retort. Clean was one thing, but it would take hours, perhaps days, of effort to get this place neat and organized.

Leo changed the subject. “Where’s your motor carriage?” He looked around as if expecting to see it lurking in some corner.

“There’s a shed out behind the place where I store it.” Mr. Dawson waved to a door on the far end of the room. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Eve fought the urge to roll her eyes. He seemed as much a kid as Leo—easily distracted and always ready to play. “Before you do that,” she said firmly, “why don’t you show us to our rooms so we can get settled in.”

Mr. Dawson gave her an apologetic grimace. “Of course. First things first I suppose.” He changed direction and moved toward the stairs.

Leo started to protest, but before Eve could say anything, Mr. Dawson’s brow drew down in a warning look. “Miss Pickering is right—we should take care of business first.” Then he winked. “But don’t worry, there’ll be time enough for play later.”

Then he turned back to her and motioned toward the stairs. “It’s right up this way. There are four rooms up here and they’re all pretty much the same—only the view from the windows is different. My room is the last one on the right—you can have your pick of the other three. I’ll leave it to you to make the assignments.”

Eve looked around as they topped the stairs. The second floor was configured with a U-shaped landing over the far side of the building. There were two doors at the head of the stairs and one on either side facing each other.

“We’ll reserve that one for Mrs. Epps,” she said, pointing to the room next to Mr. Dawson’s, “and, Leo, you can take the one next to her. I’ll take the one on the end.”

She followed Leo into the room she’d designated as his and saw that it was not overly large but still of a comfortable size and plainly furnished. She wasn’t certain exactly what she’d expected in rooms above what had been a saloon, but it certainly wasn’t this modest appointment.

She turned to her host. “This will do quite nicely. Thank you.”

Mr. Dawson’s smile gave her the impression he knew what she’d been expecting. “The upstairs was barely affected by the fire, only smoke damage and minor scorching on the landing. But I got rid of most of the gaudier furnishings.”

“I see.” Perhaps he wasn’t as unmindful as she’d assumed.

He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “They’re rather sparsely furnished I’m afraid. Like this room, each has a bed, a chest and a small vanity and that’s about it. They’ve remained unused in the time I’ve been here so they’ll probably need a good airing and a cleaning.”

“The furnishings are more than adequate and the cleaning and airing are something Leo and I are quite capable of handling.” Putting words to action, Eve crossed the room and opened the window, letting in the sunshine and crisp November air.

Then she turned back to Mr. Dawson. “I assume you have a broom and some dust rags we can use? Oh, and a line outside to hang the sheets on for an airing.”

He gave a short bow. “Of course. Let me set your bag in your room and I’ll fetch them for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I don’t want you to feel as if you have to wait on us while we’re here. Just point me in the right direction.” She looked toward Leo. “In the meantime, would you strip the sheets from all three beds and carry them downstairs, please?”

Leo didn’t look happy about postponing his opportunity to examine the motor carriage, but he nodded and started to work on the beds.

Eve followed Mr. Dawson from the room and paused with him in the hallway.

“I keep the broom and mop in the storeroom downstairs,” he said. “Along with a lot of other odds and ends. You’ll find it just to the right of the stairway. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you need.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll find everything just fine.”

“If you’re certain you and Leo will be all right for a bit, I need to run a few errands and then see to moving Dotty.”

Assuring him that they would be fine, Eve headed toward the room she’d reserved for Dotty. She wanted to have it aired out before the woman arrived.

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