was as simple, and as hard to swallow, as that.
* * *
Hazel stared at the door Ward had just exited through. Somehow, telling him of her plans to move had made the whole thing seem much more real, more inevitable. Almost as if she’d reached the point of no return. His lukewarm reaction to the news, however, had bothered her more than she’d like to admit. There’d been a couple of times today when she’d thought he’d looked at her with a warmth that was based on more than mere friendship. But apparently that had been wishful thinking.
One thing Ward had made obvious was that he was not happy with the way she’d handled the matter of Meg’s living arrangements. Well, that was just too bad. She’d done what she thought best.
And speaking of Meg...
Pasting on a smile, Hazel turned to the little girl. How was she going to entertain her for the next several hours? In spite of Ward’s obvious assumption that she would be a better caretaker for Meg, she had very little experience with children. True, Verity’s little girl, Joy, spent a lot of time with them in the emporium, but she’d never been left alone with the six-year-old for more than a short time.
Then she realized Meg’s chattering had slowed down and her eyes were getting droopy. Poor lamb, she’d had a trying couple of days, and she was probably used to napping after lunch.
Hazel held out her hand. “What do you say we go upstairs and read one of the stories from that book Miss Abigail loaned you?” There was really no point in opening the shop for the few business hours left to the afternoon. It was a sad fact that with the amount of ready-to-wear clothing available through the mercantile, demands for her services had dwindled considerably. It was the reason for her current financial woes, the reason she’d accepted Aunt Opal’s invitation to move to New York.
Hazel settled Meg on the bed in her guest room and opened the book of fairy tales. She only made it through one page before the child was fast asleep.
Feeling at loose ends and wanting to occupy her thoughts with something other than Ward’s reaction to her news, or lack thereof, she focused on what might be needed to make Meg’s stay at Ward’s place more comfortable. Uncertain what a bachelor like Ward might have on hand, she decided the first order of business would be to gather up some extra bedding. That done, she turned to more personal needs.
Ward had mentioned that there was hardly anything in the girl’s travel bag—a change of clothing, a wooden toy, a nightshirt.
She looked through her own things and came up with an extra hairbrush, a sweet-scented bar of soap she’d purchased last time she was in New York and a soft washcloth.
She studied the still-meager collection, feeling dissatisfied with the result. A trip to the mercantile was definitely in order. They’d go as soon as Meg woke from her nap.
The little girl slept for nearly an hour but when she woke she was once more a bubbly chatterbox. When Hazel explained about the trip to the mercantile, Meg seemed to look on it as an adventure.
There were three other customers in the store and Mr. Blakely was behind the counter when they arrived. All heads turned and conversation ceased when she and Meg walked in. Meg turned suddenly shy and moved closer to Hazel’s side. Hazel placed a hand protectively on her shoulder.
“Good day, Mr. Blakely,” she said cheerily. She introduced Meg merely as a new friend, then straightened. “We’re just here to pick up a few necessities.”
“Of course.” The mercantile owner nodded. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”
Hazel led Meg down the middle aisle where she found a toothbrush and toothpaste, which had been conspicuously missing from Meg’s things. She also found some ready-made undergarments and a nightshirt that looked to be about the right size. A little tin horse that Hazel noticed had caught Meg’s eye rounded off her purchases. She brought everything back to the counter for Mr. Blakely to ring up. While he took care of that, she smiled down at Meg. “Should we add a few lemon drops to our purchases?”
Meg’s eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.
Mr. Blakely reached into the display case and added the candy to the pile of items. “On the house,” he said with a smile. “As a welcome to Turnabout gift.”
Once they were done, Hazel paused a moment. “I was wondering, Mr. Blakely, if you’d mind if I borrowed one of your handcarts.”
The shop owner waved a hand. “Of course. You can bring it back in the morning if you like.”
Hazel loaded their purchases in the cart, then smiled at Meg. “Would you like to ride?”
A few minutes later Hazel was walking down the sidewalk pushing the cart with a giggling Meg riding inside.
When they arrived back at Hazel’s place, Hazel loaded up all the other things she’d gathered for Meg and added them to the cart as well.
Meg looked it over and frowned.
“What’s the matter,” Hazel asked. “Is there something I forgot?”
“What about Sheriff Gleason?” the little girl asked. “Shouldn’t we do something for him?”
That was unexpected. “What would you suggest?”
Meg was quiet for a minute, her face scrunched in thought. Then she smiled. “Maybe some flowers to make his home pretty.”
Hazel hid a grin as she pictured Ward’s reception to such a gift. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Come along, I have a rose bush in my backyard.”
Candy this afternoon. Flowers this evening. Yep, Meg was going to be very good for the stuffy sheriff.
Ward opened his door to see Meg and Hazel standing there. Meg had her doll under one arm and a small jar filled with flowers in her hands. The three of them were accompanied by an overflowing handcart and squarely perched atop the mound of goods was Pugs, his stubby tail wagging. It definitely appeared Meg was moving in.
Hazel waved to the cart. “Meg and I gathered up a few things we thought she might need while she’s staying here.”
Apparently he and Hazel had different concepts of how many items “a few” entailed.
“And I picked these for you.” Meg held out the flowers.
“Why, thank you.” Ward took the proudly offered bouquet, not quite certain what he should do with it. No one had ever given him flowers before.
From the corner of his eye he noticed Hazel eyeing him and Meg with a touch of amusement. So she found this funny, did she?
Hazel cleared her throat. “Meg’s already had her supper along with a nice warm bath.” She waved to the overflowing handcart. “Mr. Blakely said we could keep the cart overnight. So you can either return it yourself in the morning or leave it with me when you drop Meg off and we’ll return it.”
He set the jar of flowers on the bench that sat
