planting was supposed to take her through the winter. She could ill afford to feed an army of children solely from her own stores for more than a few days without adversely affecting her future menus.
With a start she realized Ivy was already headed up the stairs. Since Ivy had boarded here for a while before she married the schoolteacher, she knew where everything was.
Managing to catch up to her without breaking into a hoydenish rush, Eileen decided it would do no good to argue—she’d learned Ivy usually went her own way.
Ivy rolled up her sleeves and set to work as soon as she reached the second floor. As far as Eileen could tell, her former boarder seemed to see nothing amiss with the stark furnishings and lack of fancy drapes and coverlets in the spare bedchambers. She supposed, if anyone in town had to see her true state of affairs, then Ivy and Dovie would be the most sympathetic to her situation. Neither had known her before her fall from grace or had witnessed the lavish way she’d conducted her life back then. For that matter, nor did any of the visitors who would be here for the next few days. So there were no unflattering comparisons for them to make, no unpleasant history for them to remember.
As for Mr. Tucker, the admiration she’d seen in his eyes had been very disconcerting. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time. And she was honest enough to admit, just for a moment, she’d wanted to bask in it.
Perhaps it was worth all this bother just for that small, precious gift.
She just had to make certain she didn’t get used to it.
Because it wasn’t likely to come from anyone else anytime soon.
* * *
When Simon checked in at the restaurant to see how the kids were faring, the women there assured him they had everything under control. He’d been surprised to see that one end of the restaurant housed a library. He hadn’t expected such niceties in this small-town community.
The reverend’s daughter, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, was reading a book to several of the younger children, while some of the older ones were browsing the shelves and thumbing through books on their own. Mrs. Harper pulled him aside to assure him they would keep an eye on the children for as long as he needed them to.
Satisfied they were in good hands, Simon headed to Dr. Pratt’s clinic to check on Miss Fredrick.
He was thankful they’d landed in the midst of such good people. On his own he’d have been totally inadequate to the task of looking after the children. After all, what did a thirty-year-old bachelor like him know about taking care of kids, especially little girls. And while Mrs. Pierce might not be the maternal type, her boarder, Miss Jacobs, would know how to deal with the needs of the children. Surely between the three of them, they could manage whatever was required over the next few days.
And hopefully they wouldn’t be here in Turnabout longer than that. He had to keep believing Miss Fredrick would recover soon and they could be on their way once more. Surely God wouldn’t allow for any other outcome.
That thought made him wince. He of all people should know that bad things did happen to good people, even innocent children, and God alone knew the reasons.
Unbidden, his thoughts turned to when he was nine years old and his own parents had died. He and his sisters had been farmed out to different relatives and rarely got to see each other again. In fact, his youngest sister, Imogene, had passed away the following year without him even knowing until the funeral was over and done with.
Just one more sign of what Uncle Corbitt’s opinion of “that side of the family” had been.
Simon determinedly pushed those thoughts away and entered the doctor’s office trying to maintain a hopeful outlook. “How’s Miss Fredrick doing?”
The somberness in the spare, white-haired doctor’s demeanor wasn’t encouraging. “I wish I had better news for you, but she’s not showing any signs of improvement.”
“But she is going to get better, isn’t she?” He couldn’t quite mask the hint of desperation in his voice.
The doctor came around his desk and leaned back against it as he faced Simon sympathetically. “I’m afraid you need to face facts. There’s a very real possibility she might never regain consciousness. If there’s anyone to be notified, I would do it now.”
Simon raked his hand through his hair, not wanting to accept what the doctor was saying. “She has a brother—his name is Wilbur I believe—but they had a falling-out. Other than the children, she doesn’t have anyone else that I’m aware of.”
“Notify her brother.” The doctor’s tone was firm. “I find most people put their differences aside at a time like this.”
“Of course. But it is possible she’ll recover, isn’t it?”
The doctor looked at him with sympathy. “Anything is possible, son. But it’s very much in God’s hands now.”
Before Simon could respond, one of the side doors opened and a woman dressed in black with a crisp white bibbed apron stepped out. The doctor straightened. “Mr. Tucker, allow me to introduce my niece, Verity Leggett.”
Simon tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“She and her daughter have recently moved in with us,” the doctor continued. “Verity is helping here at the clinic. Between her, my wife and me, someone will be with Miss Fredrick at all times.”
“Thank you. I appreciate all you’re doing for Miss Fredrick.” He scrubbed his jaw, trying to collect his thoughts. “The kids have been asking after her. Would it be okay if they came around to see her?”
The doctor hesitated before replying. “As long as they are prepared for what they will see. Unless something changes, she’ll be unconscious and unable to move or speak.”
“Mr. Tucker.” Mrs. Leggett’s tone was sympathetic but firm. “I hope you don’t mind my interference, but as a mother myself, I feel it would be unwise to bring the children here just yet. It would only serve to upset them further.”
Simon nodded. “I appreciate your advice, ma’am.”
He thanked them both again, then asked the whereabouts of the telegraph office and took his leave.
What was he going to do if Miss Fredrick didn’t make it? More to the point, what would become of the children? He’d given Miss Fredrick his word that he’d do everything in his power to get them all safely to their new home. But what was the use of getting them to Hatcherville if Miss Fredrick wasn’t there to look out for them? He certainly couldn’t step into that role himself, not alone at any rate. He’d take in his niece and nephew, Audrey and Albert, if there was no other choice but to separate the children. But he’d scour heaven and earth to keep them all together if he could.
Almighty God, please let this dear woman live. She’s doing Your work here and it doesn’t seem right to not let her finish it, especially now when she is in reach of her dream of giving these kids a new and better life. They need her—they have nowhere else to go, no one else to look out for them.
And I certainly didn’t sign on to become their full-time guardian. You, who know all things, know that I wouldn’t be the kind of caretaker they
