A Tailor-Made Husband

by Winnie Griggs

Someone who was much craftier than what he had at first suspected.

  * * *

  “So first you had to arrest the adult Lytle cousins this morning and then you have to deal with Eunice this afternoon—you’ve had quite a day.” Hazel studied the sheriff’s tight jaw with sympathy. While Meg napped, he was helping her carry a large trunk downstairs, one she planned to use for packing the things she would take to New York with her.

  Ward grimaced. “I’d say I earned my paycheck today, that’s for sure.”

  “I hear Eunice was madder than a bee-stung polecat.”

  “A very apt description. But she had every right to be. Whoever made such a spectacle of her laundry deliberately set out to embarrass her.” He set the trunk down at the bottom of the stairs. “Now, where do you want me to put this?”

  “In my workroom will be fine.” No point in leaving this visible reminder of her upcoming departure in the middle of her shop floor.

  She held the door open for him. “Are you of the same mind as everyone else, that one or more of the Lytle boys are to blame for all the incidents?”

  He set the trunk down and rubbed his chin. “I was. But now I’m not so sure.”

  “I must say, that’s a relief.”

  His eyes narrowed in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that I think it’s not right for folks to place blame like this without any real proof. I know those boys are wild as jackrabbits, but the only time they get really ornery is with each other.”

  “So you’re not basing this on anything other than that you want to think the best of them.”

  He sounded disappointed. Had he expected her to have a more insightful observation? If so, she was kind of flattered. “Well, I’ve never seen them take out their anger on anyone else, have you?”

  “Can’t say as I have.” He brushed his hands against his pants. “But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t. I know you like to think folks are basically good, but not everyone can live up to your opinion of them.”

  She saw his gaze drift to the pile of papers on her desk. Why hadn’t she put those bills away?

  “Thanks for your help with the trunk,” she said, drawing his gaze back to her. Then she led the way out of the workroom.

  But Hazel wasn’t ready to see him leave just yet. “Do you have any theories on who it might be if it’s not one or more of the Lytle boys?”

  He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish I did. Right now I’d settle for knowing why it’s happening.”

  “That makes sense. Knowing why would almost certainly point to who.”

  He nodded. “But for now, just like everything else about this, it’s just one big mystery.”

  “I have confidence that you’ll figure it out.” Then she studied him a moment. “I get the feeling that there was something about the incident at Eunice’s place that’s bothering you.”

  That crooked grin she found so attractive lit his face briefly. “I didn’t realize I was so easy to read.” Then he shrugged. “It just felt different from the others.”

  “Different how?”

  “They didn’t just pull the clothing from the line.” He leaned against the counter, his expression taking on a faraway look. “They took Eunice’s, as she called them, unmentionables, and displayed them on a tree in her front yard. That felt more personal, as if they were deliberately trying to embarrass her rather than just pulling a schoolboy prank that got out of hand.”

  She loved watching him think through a puzzle this way. “And you think that’s significant?”

  “I’m not sure. But it certainly does give this whole thing a different angle.”

  “Eunice can certainly be abrasive at times and she’s irritated more than her share of folks around town over the years. Could it be that this incident is separate from the others, that it was done by someone different?”

  “I suppose anything is possible.” He studied her thoughtfully. “Your mind works in different ways than most.”

  “Have I just been insulted?” she asked with a mock frown.

  His eyes widened in alarm. “Not at all.”

  His hasty reassurance made her smile.

  “I just meant, not many would have made that jump to an alternate solution, at least not as quickly.” Then he grimaced. “But I have to say, I hope you’re wrong. Because if you’re right, that would mean I have two different sets of culprits to identify and capture.”

  Then he straightened and pushed back from the counter. “Now, unless you have more manual labor to assign me, I need to get back to work at my real job.”

  “That’ll do for now,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  She watched him leave, then stood at the counter a while longer. Ever since the picnic yesterday, she felt that something had shifted in their relationship, that they’d drawn closer somehow. Did he feel it too?

  And what exactly did it mean?

  * * *

  After supper that evening, Ward and Meg took Pugs out for his evening walk. He had enjoyed the discussion with Hazel this afternoon, trying to puzzle things out together. She had a sharp mind and a different way of looking at things that he found inspired him to see things in a new light as well.

  What he hadn’t enjoyed was carrying her trunk down from the attic for her. And he didn’t mean the manual labor part. In fact, he’d rather liked feeling as if she needed him for that.

  It was the very physical reminder that her days in Turnabout were numbered, that she was putting plans in motion to leave them, leave him, possibly for good.

  He’d never really appreciated what a good friend and what a big part of his life Hazel was until he’d learned she was about to leave.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true. If he was honest with himself, he’d been thinking of Hazel as more than a friend for some time now. He’d just refused to let himself act on those feelings. And after the kidnapping incident with Pru Walker, he’d buried those feelings just as deep as he could.

  And now there was nothing he could do about it, was there?

  He supposed the bigger question was, was there anything he should do about it?

  Pushing all of those frustratingly unanswerable questions aside, Ward decided that it was the ideal time to try questioning Meg again. Perhaps he’d have better luck solving her mystery than the one plaguing the town.

  Best to start with something fairly innocuous. “Half-pint, I’ve been wondering, did your brother ever say anything at all about where he and Rory were headed?”

  Meg wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have a brother.”

  Ward stopped in his tracks. “You mean Freddie’s not your brother?” Had the boy lied about that as well? Had he kidnapped—

  Meg giggled. “No, silly. Freddie is my sister!” Then she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell. Freddie is going to be so mad at me if she finds out.”

  Freddie was a girl. Probably Winifred or Fredericka then. “Don’t you worry about that. I won’t let Freddie bother you.”

  Ward began reevaluating everything he thought he’d known. And it put the role of that Rory fellow in a whole new light as well. How much had Half-pint picked up on? “Do you know why Freddie was running away with Rory?”

  “They planned to get married. Freddie said she was gonna be Mrs. Rory Dunkin and start her own family, and now that she had a proper dowry they were going to be able to do it right. She said that I needed to find a new family of my own, too, because there wasn’t gonna be room for me in her and Rory’s family.” She hugged her doll. “I was kinda scared when she told me, but then me and Chessie found you and Pugs and I knew it was going to be okay.”

  “That’s right. There’s no need for you to be scared anymore because I’m going to make sure everything is okay for you
and Chessie.” And he meant it, with every fiber of his being.

  The more Ward heard about Freddie, the more heartless she seemed. But he finally had a last name, even if it was Rory’s and not Meg’s. If he could track down this Dunkin fellow, perhaps he could make the leap to finding out who Meg and Freddie were.

  “What’s a dowry?” Meg asked, reclaiming his attention.

  “It’s the money or other goods a bride brings to the marriage.” And now that she mentioned it, just where had Freddie come by her proper dowry? Could the young couple be thieves? If not, if Freddie had acquired the money through more legitimate means, he had a strong feeling that half of it belonged to Meg.

  The little girl appeared to ponder his answer as they continued their walk. Then she looked up at him earnestly. “Will I need to give you a dowry so I can be your new family? The only thing I have is the music box Miss Hazel gave me, but we could share it if you want.”

  “No, Half-pint, your smile is the only treasure you need to share with me.”

  “Smiles aren’t treasures, silly.”

  He tapped her nose. “Yours are.”

  He quickly tried another question, as much to distract her as to gather information. “Did you know Rory before you all made the trip to the train station?”

  Meg’s pigtails bounced as she nodded again. “He helped Poppa on the farm sometimes. And he liked to pick flowers and give them to Freddie.”

  Then she surprised him with a question of her own. “Do you like me?” she asked wistfully.

  He dropped down to one knee, wanting Meg to see the earnestness in his expression. “Of course I like you, Half-pint. You bring sunshine to my days.”

  She grinned. “That sounds nice.” Then her smile faded. “Freddie didn’t like me very much and I’m not sure Poppa did either.”

  How could those two, who should have been her champions, make her feel that way? “Some people just have trouble letting others know how they feel. It doesn’t mean they don’t have those feelings.”

  “Freddie didn’t have trouble saying how she felt at all. She told me that I killed our momma when I was borned and that Poppa would never forgive me for it. She said not only that, but that Poppa changed when I came along. He quit laughing and playing with her like he did before. And it was all my fault.”

  What a terrible burden to have dumped on such small shoulders. He stroked her hair, smiling into her eyes. “No, Half-pint, none of that was your fault. Sometimes things happen that just can’t be helped.”

  Her eyes were huge in her small face. “So it wasn’t my fault?”

  “No, it most definitely was not your fault.”

  She reached up and hugged his neck. “I wish Poppa was still here so you could tell him. Maybe then he would smile again for Freddie.”

  Ward tried to hold on to his smile for her sake. But if the man was still here he’d have a whole lot more than that to say to him.

  He sent up a silent prayer, thanking God for putting Meg into his care and promising one more time to do all he could to ensure that she had a much happier future than what her past had been.

  * * *

  Hazel had no sooner opened her doors for business on Tuesday morning than Tensy stepped across the threshold.

  Hazel greeted her with a smile, wondering what had brought her back so soon. “Hello, Tensy. If you’re here for a fitting, I’m afraid I’m not far enough along on your dress for that yet. Perhaps by tomorrow morning?”

  Tensy didn’t seem at all put off. “Of course.” She nervously tucked a tendril behind one ear. “I just wanted to discuss a possible change to the design with you. If it’s not too late, I mean.”

  Hazel braced herself. The girl was so self-effacing that it was hard to get upset with her. But she sincerely hoped they weren’t going to have to rehash the bride-to-be’s desire for a more fussy design. “What kind of change?”

  “I know we agreed that a simple style would be more elegant, but the more I thought on it, the more I felt that what we came up with is just a little too plain for the occasion. What do you think about adding a ruffled overskirt below the waist?”

  What Hazel thought was that it would be a very bad idea. But she merely smiled, thinking fast. “I certainly understand your wanting to make the dress look special for such an important occasion and of course I want to do everything I can to give you the gown of your dreams. But instead of a ruffled overskirt, why don’t we try some lace panels?” She pulled out her sketchbook. “Let me show you what I mean.”

  Hazel quickly penciled in what she had in mind. Then she went to the back and returned with several yards of a lovely ivory lace. “This shade would look beautiful up against the pink of your gown.” She held a length of it next to the partially completed bodice to demonstrate. “See?”

  “Oh yes, thank you.” Then Tensy’s expression shifted. “But will you have time to get this done before you leave for New York? I expect you’re anxious to start on your new adventure.”

  If only Tensy knew—she would gladly trade places with her, preparing to marry the man she loved. That was a perfect adventure as far as she was concerned.

  But she smiled and focused on the woman’s main concern. “I should have plenty of time to get everything done. I’m not planning to leave until the Coopers return from their trip, and they aren’t due back for another two and a half weeks. Besides, even if that wasn’t the case, I could take the project with me, finish it in New York and then ship it back.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t considered that.” Tensy’s whole demeanor had brightened. “This is all so generous of you. But hopefully it won’t come to that. I’d hate for you to have to spend your first days in your new role looking back.”

  Again Tensy’s word struck her as unintentionally double-edged. How much looking back would she do once she moved to New York?

  Meg tugged on her skirt, pulling her back to the present. “My thread got all tangled up,” she said woefully.

  Hazel smiled down at her. “That happens sometimes, even to me. Wait at the table and I’ll help you as soon as I finish assisting Miss Lawrence.”

  Tensy studied Meg thoughtfully as the little girl walked away. “She certainly seems a lively child. Do you know what Sheriff Gleason’s plans for her are?”

  Hazel wasn’t sure that even Ward knew what his plans were. “He’s still hopeful he can find a relative of hers who’ll be willing to take her in.”

  Tensy gave her a thoughtful look. “The child seems rather attached to you. Have you thought about adopting her yourself and taking her to New York with you?”

  Hazel was rather taken aback at the intrusiveness of the question.

  But before she could figure out how to respond, Tensy placed her elbows on the counter and leaned forward, a dreamy expression on her face. “I hope to have children of my own someday, lots of them.”

  She gave Hazel a self-deprecating smile. “My ambitions must seem rather small to an independent-minded woman like you.”

  “Not at all. I think being a good mother is a very noble ambition.” Hazel hoped Tensy was less awkward with her own kids than she seemed to be with Meg. But then again, some folks were like that, she supposed, stiff around other people’s children but warm and loving with their own.

  Hazel glanced fondly at the little girl, who had already found a special place in her heart. She would have no problem at all taking on the role of mother to Meg. But there was no way she would tear the child away from Ward. Because whatever bond Tensy had seen between herself and Meg, Hazel knew Meg’s connection to Ward was ten times deeper.

  Would she ever have children of her own? Hazel felt that she had so much love to give that she quite literally ached with the need to share it.

  She glanced at Tensy, who was lovingly fingering the incomplete dress that was destined to becom
e her wedding gown. There was such a happy glow about her.

  That’s how a bride should look.

  That was how Hazel longed to feel.

  Then she gave herself a mental shake. She had to accept that that was not going to be her lot in life, at least not with the man she’d always pictured as her groom. God had opened a different door for her and now she needed to step through with faith and confidence and see what path that led to.

  There really wasn’t any other choice for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  That evening, after Meg and Ward had gone to Ward’s place for the night, Hazel decided it was time to tackle some of the packing for her upcoming move. Going through her belongings, deciding what to take with her, what to store for later shipping and what to discard altogether was more difficult than she’d imagined it would be.

  After several hours of sorting through her things, she decided to head downstairs to go over some legal and financial documents stored there. That, at least, should be less of an emotional drain. Sitting down at the worktable that served as a desk, she began to methodically go through the folders containing the papers. After thirty minutes of staring at figures and legal documents, some of them going back to her parents’ time, her eyelids grew heavy.

  Just another few minutes, she promised herself, and then she’d set it aside to finish another day.

  Sometime later, she wasn’t certain just how long, she jerked awake. Her lamp had gone out and she was sitting in the full dark. With a grimace, she rubbed her neck, trying to massage some of the stiffness from it. How long had she dozed?

  With a sigh, she stood and headed for the stairs, not needing a light to guide her through the familiar path. Halfway there, she paused. What was that noise?

  It sounded as if it had come from next door but that was impossible. Verity and her family weren’t due back for more than two weeks. She grimaced at that thought. It meant that was how long she had before her last excuse to delay her departure for New York expired.

  Hazel moved to the window. She didn’t see anything but there was that noise again. And it was definitely coming from Verity’s place.