she planned to try to make her ambitious but improbable dream a reality.
As he stuck a fork in his slightly overcooked egg, he wondered how she’d fared after he left her last night. Had she gotten any sleep at all given her less-than-ideal accommodations?
He took a sip of coffee. Perhaps he should go over and check on her this morning. Not that her welfare was his concern, but she didn’t seem to have anyone else to look out for her. And, even if it was confoundedly inconvenient, someone should make certain her ankle wasn’t any worse this morning and that she had something to eat.
When he carried his dishes to the counter he spied her through the window, dragging another load of debris to toss on her trash pile. That unfortunate-looking mutt she’d had with her last night was racing from her heels to the far end of the lot and back again.
At least she didn’t seem to be favoring her left foot. As for food, he waffled a few moments over whether to involve himself further in her business. He supposed, as long as he made it clear he expected her to fend for herself going forward, it wouldn’t hurt to offer sustenance one more time.
He’d do the gentlemanly thing and invite her up for something to eat, or at least a cup of coffee. And maybe see if she was as optimistic about her enterprise this morning as she’d been last night.
But before he could act on his decision, he saw her reappear carrying a sack and head toward the edge of town, the dog trotting beside her.
What in the world was she up to now?
Feeling slightly deflated, Everett washed his dishes and headed down to his office. Enough of this unproductive preoccupation with his neighbor. He had work to get to.
But over the next few hours he had trouble focusing on his work. He found his thoughts drifting to speculation as to where she’d gone off to and, to his irritation, caught himself listening for her return.
He supposed it was only natural to worry about any unprotected female heading out on her own in unfamiliar surroundings. No matter how far she’d walked to get here.
Everett was finally rewarded a couple of hours after her departure by the sound of her return. Minutes later, he could hear items being moved around and other evidence of her renewed efforts. Did she plan to work the entire day? He even thought he heard snatches of some cheerful but slightly off-key humming a time or two. It appeared that, no matter what other qualities Miss Johnson might have, she wasn’t afraid of hard work.
And apparently, word of the new arrival had spread through town. There was a steady parade of folks strolling past his glass-fronted office, and stopping by his neighbor’s place. With all the interest Miss Johnson was garnering, he wondered just how much work she was actually managing to get done.
He resisted the urge to walk over and see for himself. The impulse had been born of his desire to check on how she was faring after last night’s rough start, but she apparently had plenty of drop-in visitors to assist her now.
Near noon, Everett was on his knees in front of his type cabinet, picking up the bits of type that had scattered when he dropped a tray. He blamed the incident on Miss Johnson, or rather the bothersome distraction she’d become. That and his interrupted sleep last night—also her fault—were the most likely culprits for his lack of focus today.
All he needed was an uninterrupted night’s sleep tonight; then he’d be as efficient as ever tomorrow.
He was just putting the last piece back in place when his office door opened. He glanced up to see Adam Barr, one of the three men who’d traveled with him from Philadelphia to Turnabout last summer.
Everett pushed to his feet, at the same time pushing away his faint disappointment. He took a moment to slide the tray back into place and then greeted his visitor.
“You’re early today,” he said as he grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. Most days, Adam stopped by on his way back to the bank after having lunch at home with his wife, Reggie. He and Adam had an ongoing chess game that they both enjoyed and took quite seriously.
“Reggie has my afternoon planned out for me,” Adam responded. “Jack’s seventh birthday is tomorrow, and she wants my help planning a small surprise for him.”
Jack was Reggie’s nephew, and she and Adam had adopted him after their marriage last fall.
Adam headed toward the chessboard that was set up on the far end of the room with their game. “If I remember correctly, it was my move.”
Everett followed him. “It was. And I’m looking forward to seeing how you’ll answer my last move.”
Adam sat down, studying the board. “I hear you have a new neighbor,” he said as he fingered one of the pawns he’d captured.
“Word gets around fast. If you haven’t heard a name yet, it’s Daisy Johnson. You remember her—the daughter of the peddler who was arrested for stealing the money from the fair last year.” Adam had been instrumental in getting the man cleared of the charges.
“Falsely arrested,” Adam corrected. “Yes, I remember her. Spirited young lady, if I recall.”
Everett agreed with that assessment but decided to change the subject. “So how is Reggie faring?”
“As stubborn as ever. She refuses to accept that she needs to curtail her more vigorous activities until the baby comes.”
Adam set down the captured pawn and slid his bishop across the board. “There,” he said as he stood. “That should keep you busy for a while.”
Before Everett could study the move, the door opened and in came his new neighbor, carrying the broom he’d loaned her last night, and a small parcel.
While she still wore a dress that had seen better days, there was a pleased-with-the-world smile on her face that overshadowed her dearth of fashion sense. From the bounce in her step it appeared she’d managed to sleep just fine last night. There was no hint of cobwebs in her hair this morning; rather, it was well combed and neatly pulled back in a loose bun.
And, like a shadow, her dog was once more right beside her. In the daylight, the animal looked only marginally more presentable than he had last night. Black and white with a shaggy coat, the mutt had obviously led a less-than-pampered life. One ear was torn, and there was an old scar on one hind leg. And if Everett wasn’t mistaken, the dog had one blue and one brown eye. Very disconcerting.
He took all that in within the few seconds following her entrance. It was the reporter in him, trained to notice even the smallest of details.
That quickening of his pulse—that was due to nothing more than curiosity as to what had brought her to his office.
Chapter Three
Daisy paused when she saw that Mr. Fulton wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy.”
Mr. Fulton’s visitor turned, and she smiled in recognition. “Mr. Barr! How nice to see you again.”
Adam executed a short bow. “The pleasure is mine. I understand you’ve decided to take up residence in our fair town. Let me add my welcome to the others I’m sure you’ve already received.”
Now
