Authors: Winnie Griggs,Rachelle McCalla,Rhonda Gibson,Shannon Farrington
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Religion & Spirituality, #Literature & Fiction
New life and purpose.
She liked the sound of that.
* * *
Chance was still smiling as he stepped onto the sidewalk. Yep, the next few days were going to be mighty interesting. And mighty entertaining, as well. Just how far could he make the very proper Miss Pickering bend?
Then his smile faded. Before he fetched Dotty and her things, he had another errand to run. He needed answers about his father’s claims and there was one person in town who might be able to give them to him. Adam Barr.
He walked into the bank and headed straight for Adam’s office. Giving a perfunctory knock on the open door, he entered without waiting for an invitation.
Adam leaned back in his seat with a friendly smile. “Hello. Looking for another loan to diversify further? I hear you’re giving Eunice Ortolon some competition.”
Chance grimaced. Eunice was the owner of the town’s one and only boardinghouse. “I see the local gossip mill is as efficient as ever.”
Adam spread his hands, his grin widening. “Something like one of the town’s most eligible bachelors taking in boarders, one of whom is an unmarried young woman new to town, is big news. You can’t expect it to go unnoticed.” He seemed to be enjoying Chance’s discomfiture. “I’d love to hear the story behind it.”
“Another time.” Chance crossed his arms. “I actually wanted to talk to you about my loan.”
Adam immediately became all business. “Of course. Should I close the door?”
“No.” Chance gripped the back of the chair facing Adam’s desk. “I just want to know if the bank still holds that loan?”
Adam’s brow furrowed. “Of course. We don’t make a practice of selling off our notes. Why would you ask?”
The knot in Chance’s gut loosened slightly. But it wasn’t like his father to lie. He moved around and flopped into the chair. “Because I received a letter from my father this morning stating that
he
held the note.”
Adam straightened. “That’s not possible.”
“He claims it is. And my father may be a great many things, but a liar he is not.”
Adam leaned back in his chair his expression puzzled. “I don’t understand. I—” Suddenly his demeanor changed—his eyes widened a moment and then his lips thinned. “Oh.”
“I assume you figured it out,” Chance said dryly. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever was coming. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“There
is
a new partner in the bank ownership.”
“You took on a new partner? And it just happens to be my father?”
“Not exactly. I don’t actually own any portion of the bank, remember? Jack’s father and Thomas Pierce started up this business as equal partners.”
Jack was Adam’s adopted son.
“When Jack’s father died,” Adam continued, “Jack inherited his portion, and when I married Reggie I took responsibility for managing his interests. Then, when Pierce...
died
his wife inherited his portion.”
Chance understood Adam’s hesitation. Pierce had done the unthinkable—committed suicide when it became inevitable that his theft of bank funds would be discovered.
“What you may or may not know,” Adam continued, “is that a large part of what was left of Thomas’s estate went toward paying off his debt. Mrs. Pierce has been having a hard time of it financially this past year and a half.”
Chance wasn’t surprised. Eileen Pierce was known for her extravagant ways and had likely not taken well to the idea of living frugally. In fact, a lot of folks blamed her excesses for driving Thomas to steal in the first place.
Adam rubbed his jaw. “She told me about a week ago that a firm from back East had offered to buy out her portion, including the debts she still owed.”
“And the name of the firm?”
“Arminda May Holdings.”
Chance groaned. Arminda May had been the name of his father’s mother.
“Does that mean your father is involved in the company?”
“My father
owns
the company.”
Adam studied him carefully. “And I take it that that is not a good thing where you’re concerned.”
Now
there
was an understatement. “Let’s just say my father and I have rarely seen eye to eye on anything.”
“So it’s not a coincidence that he decided to invest here in Turnabout.”
Chance’s smile held no humor. “Oh, no. In fact it was a very strategic move on his part.”
“Anything I can do?”
Chance shook his head. “Thanks, but no. This is between him and me.”
Adam nodded. “Let me know if that changes.” Then he grinned. “Now, do you want to tell me about your houseguests?”
Chance returned the grin, welcoming the change of subject. “Quite an interesting pair. Leo is a runaway who slipped aboard the train at Texarkana. He got caught and booted off here. Miss Pickering is a Good Samaritan who came to his rescue and is now stranded here in town because of it.”
“And you took them in out of the goodness of your heart.” Adam’s tone held a there’s-more-to-this-than-you’re-saying air.
But Chance didn’t rise to the bait. “It was one of those right place, right time things. I had lots of unused rooms and they needed a place to stay. And Ward, in his role as sheriff, insists on having someone he knows take responsibility for the boy until he can get the kid’s story checked out. It’ll only be for a couple of days.”
“A sensible approach. I hear Dotty’s moving in, as well.”
“She had the advantage of having met them at the depot this morning and I could tell she took a fancy to them. And you know Dotty. I’d barely finished explaining the situation to her before she volunteered to help.”
“Taking two lost lambs under her wing is going to perk Dotty right up.”
Chance had thought as much himself. Dotty was happiest when she had had someone to fuss over. But he merely shrugged. “It’s all temporary—one way or the other I expect those two will be gone before the week is out. In the meantime it’ll be an interesting diversion—nothing more.”
Adam raised a brow at that, as if he wasn’t quite buying Chance’s story. But Chance figured he’d already said enough—maybe too much. He stood and held out a hand. “I’d better be going. I need to stop at the blacksmith shop to talk to Wilbur, then I promised Dotty I’d go by the boardinghouse to help her move her things.”
As Chance stepped out onto the sidewalk his thoughts turned back to his father. Adam had answered one of his questions. The other still remained. How in the world had his father known about the loan in the first place?
Was it possible the man had found a way to keep up with his affairs from afar? Chance wasn’t sure if he was more surprised at his father’s ability to do so or by the fact that he’d actually been interested enough in the son he considered a black sheep to go to the trouble.
But that was irrelevant now. The more important question was what was he going to do about it going forward? How was he going to counter his father’s latest move to control him?
It was probably just as well Leo and Eve would be gone before his father arrived. The man would definitely not approve of him taking in two strangers, and he could make their stay very uncomfortable for them.
Then again, it might have been a fun meeting to watch. He had a feeling, beneath her meek exterior, Eve could give as good as she got.
Should he respond to his father’s letter? Or just ignore it? No, ignoring it would send the wrong message.
When it came down to it, though, what could he really say? Telling his father not to come would serve no purpose. Once the man made his mind up about something nothing could dissuade him.
On the other hand, he couldn’t tell his father he was looking forward to the visit—that would be an out and out lie.
He supposed he could just write and say that he’d received the letter and would be expecting him, then leave it at that. Direct and matter-of-fact with no hint of either confrontation or tractability. He’d get Dotty to write it up for him before he moved her into The Blue Bottle.
He only hoped he could maintain the same unflappable, businesslike demeanor when he and his father met together again face-to-face.
Chapter Seven
E
ve found the storeroom Chance had mentioned without any problem. But when she opened the door she discovered much more than just cleaning supplies. The room was about half the size of one of the bedrooms upstairs and was crammed with chairs, tables and a mishmash of odds and ends, all in various stages of repair. Perhaps she would explore it a bit more when her immediate tasks were complete. After all, he
had
said to help herself to whatever she might need.
With Leo’s assistance, she made quick work of the sweeping and dusting in all three rooms. As soon as those chores were done, she turned to Leo. “I have an idea of something we could do to surprise Mr. Dawson. Would you like to help me?”
His eyes brightened with interest. “Yes, ma’am.”
She led him down to the storeroom and opened the door. “Let’s see if we can find at least two additional tables in this group that are sturdy enough to set out. As for the chairs, we’ll make use of as many as we can find that are still serviceable.” She pushed up her sleeves. “Mr. Dawson isn’t living here alone anymore. We need to have a proper sitting room, or as close to one as we can manage.”
She spied a can of something near the door and peered inside. “Oh, good. This looks like furniture polish.” She gave Leo a raised brow look. “Would you prefer to drag out the furniture and sort through it, or clean and polish the pieces?”
Leo didn’t hesitate. “I’ll sort through all this stuff.”
She grinned. “I thought that might be your choice. Very well. I’ll get started cleaning and polishing the pieces already out there while you begin on this. Most of the pieces appear to be damaged, but as you find something you think might work, drag it to the foot of the stairs.”
Leo eventually found two tables and six chairs that seemed usable. Eve cleaned and polished them. When she had coaxed as much shine from the wooden surfaces as she could, she had Leo help her move things around until she was finally satisfied with the arrangement.
The four tables had been moved closer to the center of the open space and were arranged in pairs with a nice aisle between them. Each table had two chairs pulled up to it. And though there were still scorch marks visible on several of the pieces, they were clean and held a subtle gleam brought out by the polish.
“Do you think Mr. Dawson will like it?” Leo asked.
Eve rubbed her cheek thoughtfully. “I wish I had some tablecloths for them, but considering what we had to work with, I think we did quite well.”
The words had barely crossed her lips when she heard the door swing open behind her. She turned to see Dotty and Mr. Dawson step inside. It seemed they were about to learn what Mr. Dawson thought of their efforts.
She set her cleaning rag down on one of the chairs and hurried to help Dotty with the load she was carrying.
“Mrs. Epps. It is so very good to see you again.”
“Hello, my dear.” Dotty wore a warm smile. “And none of this Mrs. Epps business—it’s Dotty, remember? Isn’t it lovely how things have worked out for us to spend some time together?”
“Quite lovely.” Eve held out a hand. “Here, let me take that for you.” The item turned out to be a vining sort of potted plant with fuzzy green leaves that had a purple tinge to them. It was unusual-looking, but Eve decided she liked it.
She’d just set the plant down when Mr. Dawson cleared his throat. “Looks like you’ve been busy while I was gone.”
She met his gaze diffidently. Did he think she’d been too presumptuous? “I hope you don’t mind. I thought this arrangement might better accommodate your expanded household.”
“It was indeed presumptuous.” Then he smiled. “But I like the results so you’re forgiven.”
Eve relaxed. That warm glow she felt was from a job well done, she told herself,
not
from his infectious smile.
Dotty straightened. “If someone will show me which room is mine I’ll start getting settled in.”
Eve smiled. “Of course. We left you the room at the head of the stairs.”
While Leo and Mr. Dawson carted Dotty’s other belongings up the stairs, Eve helped her new friend unpack and set out her things.
“I want to thank you for agreeing to move out of your home and serve as chaperone for us these next few days,” Eve said. “I know it must have been quite an imposition, but it has certainly simplified matters for Leo and me.”
Dotty flipped her hand dismissively. “Not at all. And that boardinghouse might be where I live but it’s not really my home.”
Eve paused. “What do you mean?”
“My real home—the place where my Gregory brought me when we married, where my children were born and where my husband died, the place where we laughed and loved and grieved—that burned down six weeks ago.”
“Oh, Dotty, I’m so very sorry.” Eve immediately crossed the room and gave her an impulsive hug. Then she stepped back, mortified by her forwardness.
But Dotty seemed not to mind. “That’s sweet of you to say, but please don’t feel sorry for me. I had twenty-eight wonderful years with my Gregory and even more with my home. Everything happens for a reason and the Good Lord sees us through whatever comes our way.”
Everything happens for a reason—did that include this day’s events?
“Besides, I managed to save my family Bible and a necklace that belonged to my mother along with a few other personal items—that’s all I really need.”
Eve admired her positive attitude. But before Eve could respond, Mr. Dawson and Leo entered with another load of Dotty’s things.
“That’s the last of it,” Mr. Dawson said. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“Oh dear me, no,” Dotty said. “Thank you for all of your help.” She turned to Eve. “You, too, my dear. Run along with you, I can finish up in here.”
Eve nodded. “Very well. I’ll bring in the sheets from the line. They should have had enough time to air out by now.” She glanced Leo’s way. “Want to help me?”
“Mr. Dawson brought her here in the motor carriage,” Leo blurted out rather than answering her question.
Not that that was news to her. One would need to be deaf to have not heard their arrival earlier.
“You should see it—all big and shiny,” he continued. Then he turned to Mr. Dawson. “Can I have a ride in it?”
“I do need to park it back in the shed,” he said. “It’s not much of a ride but you’re welcome to come along. That is, if Miss Pickering doesn’t mind.”
Leo shot her a pleading glance and she couldn’t help but smile. She was quite pleased that Mr. Dawson had remembered to defer to her rather than make the decision himself. “I think I can manage to get the sheets in on my own.”
She was rewarded with a brilliant smile from Leo.
Mr. Dawson straightened and gave Leo a wink. “Sounds like you’re gonna get that ride you want.” He turned to Eve and Dotty. “You two ladies are welcome to join us, if you like.”
Dotty spoke up first. “I’ve just ridden in that fancy contraption of yours, Chance Dawson. I think I’ll stay right where I am and finish getting settled in. I may even take myself a nap.”
He turned to Eve. “And what about you?”
“Thank you, but as I said, I need to bring in the sheets and get the beds made up.”
“Oh, I’m sure that can wait a bit,” Dotty said. “You ought to go. A ride in that outlandish vehicle is worth experiencing at least once.”
But Eve was determined not to let temptation take hold. “Those sheets won’t take care of themselves. As my grandmother always said, if something needs doing, then it’s better to do it sooner than later. I’m sure there will be other opportunities.”
Dotty gave her a pointed look. “No offense to your grandmother, but
my
grandmother always said, ‘A little play, every day, keeps the heart light and gay.’”
It seemed their grandmothers had been two very different women.
“I like that saying a
lot
better,” Leo said.
“Me, too,” Mr. Dawson added.
Eve ignored them both and gave Dotty a shake of her head. “All the same, I’d prefer to take care of those sheets for now.” Then she smiled at Leo and Mr. Dawson. “But I will accompany you as far as the bottom of the stairs.”
Mr. Dawson shook his head, but he said nothing more on the subject, merely stood aside for her to precede him out the door.
She could tell he didn’t understand her choice. Didn’t he have any appreciation for a strong sense of responsibility? Perhaps she could show him by her example how industriousness was its own reward.
They were near the bottom of the stairs when something across the room caught her eye. Shoved up against one wall, almost hidden by the clutter, was a large object that looked very much like a piano.
She let Leo and Mr. Dawson go on ahead of her, lagging behind on the pretext of putting away the broom she’d set aside when Dotty arrived. Then she crossed the room, drawn to the instrument like a cat to cream. She traced a hand across the scratched and dusty surface, wincing at the obvious signs of neglect. Would it still play? Or had it been damaged by the fire?
Would Mr. Dawson mind if she tried it out? It had been quite a while since she’d had the opportunity to play.
Then she remembered that only moments ago she’d professed her belief in getting work done before play, and stepped back. Perhaps later this evening then.
She turned and determinedly headed outside without a backward look.
* * *
After parking the motor carriage, Chance spent some time letting Leo examine every aspect of it. The boy even climbed behind the wheel to pretend-drive the vehicle.
And all the while, he was thinking about the young woman busying herself with work that could have been easily put off. Was she doing it because she was truly so disciplined? Or was she trying to avoid spending time with him? Did she even know how to relax and have a bit of fun?
He had, in fact, turned down the boy’s pleas for a longer ride in the motor carriage because he didn’t think Eve would approve of the outing and he’d promised to let her decide matters concerning the boy. But he was going to need to find a way to get her to relax a bit or Leo would be caged tighter than a bear at the circus.
When they eventually went back inside, they found Eve vigorously polishing the counter. Did she plan to give his entire place a thorough cleaning?
“Hello there,” he said, claiming her attention. “I’m headed over to the sawmill. Want to come along and get a look at the other end of town?”
She paused and he saw her flex her fingers. How long had she been at this?
“No, thank you. There are still a few things I’d like to get done here before supper.”
Definitely much too serious and industrious. “Suit yourself.”
“But speaking of supper,” she said before he could turn away, “I was wondering—what time do you usually eat your evening meal?”
Was she already hungry? “Normally around five-thirty or so, but we can go early if you want to. I take most of my meals at Daisy’s.”
Eve shook her head. “Five-thirty is fine. But there’ll be no need to go to Daisy’s while I’m here. The least I can do to repay you for your generosity in giving us a place to stay is to cook your meals.”
He grinned. Now there was a benefit he hadn’t expected. “If you’re waiting for me to refuse your offer, you’re going to be disappointed.”
She smiled at that. “Good. I’ll warn you that I’m not as good a cook as Daisy, but I can prepare a meal that is both filling and satisfying.”
“That’s better than I can claim for my own attempts.”
“It’s settled then.” She seemed genuinely pleased. “Just show me to your kitchen so I can take a look at how well your pantry is stocked and plan a menu.”
Chance grimaced. “Since I don’t do much cooking, I’m afraid you’ll find it sadly lacking. Make me a list of what you’ll need and I’ll stop by the mercantile while I’m out.” He could drop her list off and let Doug pull the items together while he took care of his other business, then pick up the order on his way back.
He led her into the kitchen and watched as she made a very thorough inventory, meticulously jotting down items as she went.
She finally turned and handed him her list. “You weren’t exaggerating—the pantry is almost bare. I’ve listed what I consider staples.”
Chance took a look at the list and whistled. He might not be able to read it, but he could tell it was
very
long. “Perhaps you’d better come with me after all.”
She worried at her lower lip with her teeth, then reached to take the list back from him. “If it’s too much I can try to eliminate some of the—”
He drew it back out of her reach. “No, no. You said these items were essentials, and I’m taking your word for that. But I insist that you accompany me in case Doug—the man who owns the mercantile—has questions about anything on the list.”
She frowned uncertainly. “If you really think that’s necessary...”
“I do.”
“Can I go, too?” Leo looked at her hopefully.
Chance spoke up before she could. “If it’s okay with Miss Pickering, it’s okay with me.”