The Holiday Courtship

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chloe turned away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he was definitely considering her now.

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about you, Chloe?”

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

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

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

Alex’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.

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

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

“Eight.”

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

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

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

“But—”

“She can still talk, can’t she?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Three

“And what of Alex?”

The schoolteacher’s question pulled his focus back to the matter at hand. He was relieved to see she had already regained her composure. “Fortunately, Alex wasn’t at home when the explosion happened, so he didn’t receive any injuries.”

“No physical injuries, at least,” she amended. “I’m sure emotionally he’s hurting a great deal.”

He nodded. It was something he needed to keep reminding himself of since he tended to focus more on what Chloe had lost.

“As I mentioned earlier,” she continued, “I have experience with Chloe’s condition. My sister went deaf at the age of seventeen.”

He sat up straighter. Perhaps she could help. “How did it happen in her case?”

“Measles.”

He saw the sadness in her luminous eyes and felt the urge to comfort her. Instead, he kept the conversation on the issue at hand. “How did your sister handle it?”

“Not very well at first.” Her lips twisted wryly. “In fact, much the same way Chloe is handling it right now.”

“But she did get better.” Please let there be hope.

“She never regained her hearing. But she did eventually come to terms with what had happened. It took a lot of time, though, and a lot of work, both on her part and by all of us who love her.”

“So she’s fine now?”

Miss Whitman’s expression closed off for a moment. Then she seemed to shake off her melancholy. “Absolutely. For the last five years she’s been happily married. She now has two children and leads a very active life.”

Could he dare hope Chloe would turn out the same way? Right now that seemed an improbable dream. “But there’s a difference between an eighteen-year-old and a ten-year-old.”

“True.” She leaned forward, propping her forearms on the table. “But that doesn’t mean the same approach won’t work with Chloe.”

“You honestly think you can help her adjust?”

“I’m willing to try.” She gave him a direct look. “But it means work for you and Alex as well as Chloe.”

He’d figured as much. “Hard work doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. But first things first. You need to get them home and settled in.” She paused a moment, as if something had just occurred to her. “I assume you do have room in your home for them?”

“I do.” She certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Must be the schoolteacher in her.

“Is there a separate room for each of them or do you plan to have them share?”

“There are two spare rooms.” At one time he’d thought to raise a family in that house. But that plan had been discarded years ago.

Hank mentally grimaced. It seemed he’d be raising a family there after all.

“Are the rooms ready for guests?” she asked, pressing on.

This time, her question got his back up. Sure, both rooms could use a more thorough cleaning. And the smaller one had become more storage room than bedroom over the years. But in his defense, he’d left in a hurry. And he’d thought Aunt Rowena would be here getting things ready.

Still, that really wasn’t any of her business. “Close enough for now,” he said. “And when I went home I stoked the stove and started a fire in the fireplace, so it should be nice and warm by the time I get the kids there.”

She nodded approval. “That was a thoughtful thing to do.” Then she turned solemn. “As for the rest, I understand this is a difficult time for you. And I’m certain Alex and Chloe will appreciate having a room of their own and a comfortable bed, regardless of the condition.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Hank didn’t bother to hide his irritation. It didn’t matter that the conclusion she’d jumped to was correct; she shouldn’t have made any assumptions about him in the first place.

Then he tamped down his ire. None of this was her fault and she was trying to help. “Actually, my aunt Rowena was supposed to come over from Clampton today and stay with us a couple of weeks. The plan was for her to arrive ahead of us and get the house ready for the kids, but she’s been delayed.”

“I can see why that would make you cross, and more than a little apprehensive. But a grown man such as yourself should be able to take care of the basic housekeeping required.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. Time to get this conversation back under control. “What exactly did you do to help your sister adjust? And can you do the same for Chloe?”

Miss Whitman glanced toward the next room again. “Alex and Chloe are tired and very likely apprehensive about their future here. As I said earlier, the best thing for them at the moment is to get them to your place so they can get comfortable with their new home.”

Why couldn’t she just give a straight answer to his questions? “Does that mean you can’t help Chloe?”

She gave him a don’t-be-silly look. “Not at all. I’m only saying now is not the time to talk about it.”

“And just when do you suggest we talk?” He was beginning to wonder if she really could help his niece after all.

“Since your aunt didn’t arrive as planned, are you in a position to provide them with a meal tonight?”

The way she hopped from subject to subject made him dizzy. “I’ll take them to Daisy’s,” he answered, making said plan on the spot.

But she gave a disapproving shake of her head. “Taking them to a restaurant is probably not the best idea. Much better to feed them at home, where they won’t feel on display.”

And just how did she expect him to do that, especially when she’d already guessed his cupboard was bare? “That’s all well and good, but—”

She raised a hand to stop him. Naturally she’d have a suggestion. “There’s a simple solution. I can come by your place later this afternoon and cook a simple meal for you.”

Her generous and unexpected offer, made with such no-nonsense confidence, set him back a moment. Putting aside the fact that her I-have-all-the-answers attitude set his teeth on edge, it was mighty tempting to accept her offer. After all, a home-cooked meal—and such interesting company—for the kids’ first day at his home was more than he could have hoped for just a few short minutes ago. But how far into her debt did he want to go? “I couldn’t impose on you—”

She interrupted his admittedly halfhearted protest. “Nonsense. I want to do this. And after the meal, the two of us can talk in more detail about how we might best help Chloe.”

Her use of we made it sound as if she planned to have some long-term involvement in Chloe’s life. For some reason that perked him up. “All right. If you’re sure it’s not imposing on your kindness too much, then I’d certainly welcome your help.”

“That’s settled, then.” She stood and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Chandler—this is something the three of you will be able to work through.”

Hank stood as well. She certainly had an air of confidence about her—he hoped it was justified. Though he wondered how long eventually would take. “Can I give you a ride to the boardinghouse?”

“Thank you, but there’s no need. You just get those two children home and insist they lie down for a nap.” She looked at him. “And I suggest you do the same.”

Sleep did sound good, but there was too much to be done for him to waste time on a bit of shut-eye this afternoon.

“By the way,” she continued, “the children may decide they want to be together, at least at first. I wouldn’t make much to-do over it if they do. It’s natural for them to want to cling to something familiar in a situation like this, and right now the only familiar thing left in their world is each other. And Smudge.”

“If you’re going to shop for the makings of our meal, just have the shopkeepers put the cost on my account.”

She nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you at your place in about an hour.” And with that, she headed for the door.

Hank slowly followed her back into the sweet shop, watching her walk ahead of him. There was nothing tentative about this woman. She moved the same way she talked, with confidence and authority. The knowledge that she planned to help him, that he was no longer facing this alone, gave him renewed energy.