“At least you have that nice schoolteacher to help you.”
Hank decided not to respond to that. “In the meantime, since Chloe sleeps with the cat, and Alex’s presence seems to bring her a measure of comfort, I think it would be best if you move into Alex’s room for the time being.”
She nodded. “I appreciate that.” She paused and gave him a motherly smile. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Hank, taking in Enid’s kids. I’m sorry I won’t be able to be of more help to you.”
“It’s not your fault, Aunt Rowena. It was good of you to come in the first place. Don’t worry—I’ll figure something out.”
“What you really need is a wife.”
He frowned. “I’ve come to that same conclusion.”
She nodded decisively. “Good. I’d hate to think you’re letting that fool Cranford girl continue ruining your life.”
Hank mentally winced at that. How could his aunt think his former fiancée mattered to him anymore? That part of his life was in the past—the distant past—and he no longer even thought about it.
His aunt gave him an arch look. “That Miss Whitman seems to be good with the children and fond of them, too. And I didn’t see a wedding ring on her finger, so I assume the Miss isn’t just a courtesy title.”
“It’s not. But she’s one of the schoolteachers here and doesn’t seem to be much interested in marriage.” At least not marriage to him.
His aunt sneezed into her handkerchief again, then gave him a condescending look. “Nonsense. Most every woman—and man, for that matter—has an interest in marriage. It’s human nature.”
Hank raked a hand through his hair, unhappy with the whole situation. “This is all happening too fast. I’ve only been back in town a few days. But I’d already decided a wife is the only way to make this work. Miss Whitman isn’t the right choice, but I’m looking elsewhere.”
His aunt’s brows went up. “And why isn’t Miss Whitman the right choice? I would think, given her history, that she would be the perfect choice. And you’ve already said you’re not looking for a love match.”
“Because she already said no,” he blurted out.
His aunt gave him a surprised look, then nodded. “I see. Well, that’s that.” She moved back to the stove. “You must do what you think best for yourself and the children, of course.” She lifted the lid to the large stockpot and stirred the contents. Without looking up, she asked, “Is there perhaps someone else who’s caught your eye?”
“No one has caught my eye, Aunt Rowena, at least not in the way you mean.” He summoned up a cheeky grin. “But there are a few ladies in town who might look favorably on an offer from me.”
She chuckled. “My, my, don’t you think highly of yourself.”
He grinned back sheepishly. “You know what I mean.”
She nodded and turned back to the stove. “I do. And honestly, any girl would be fortunate to have you as a husband.”
He began pacing. If Miss Whitman was here, would she offer one of her “suggestions”?
“It would seem that you are not to be given an easy time of this.”
He glanced up to see Aunt Rowena smiling sympathetically. “No. But then again, neither have the children.”
It was something he tried to remind himself of every time things got tough.
* * *
Janell ushered the children into the house through the front door. Hopefully, Mrs. Collins would still be in the kitchen. “Alex, you and Chloe put Smudge in Chloe’s room. We’ll need to keep him away from your aunt Rowena as much as possible for now.” Though from what the woman had said, just being in the same house with the animal was enough to have an adverse effect on her. Hopefully, they’d taken a long enough walk that Smudge would be okay cooped up in Chloe’s room until tomorrow.
“Yes, ma’am.” Alex turned to his sister and indicated that she should pick up the cat. It seemed the two of them were already developing their own kind of sign language.
As Janell turned to the kitchen she heard voices. One of them was definitely Mr. Chandler’s.
Good. His aunt should have given him the bad news by now. Maybe between them they’d come up with a solution.
She paused in the kitchen doorway, not wanting to interrupt the ongoing conversation. But Mr. Chandler saw her almost immediately.
When his gaze met hers there was the briefest flash of emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. It almost looked like embarrassment, but she was certain that couldn’t be right.
“Hello,” she said, not moving forward. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re back from our walk. Please don’t let me interrupt your conversation. I’ll just go—”
“It’s no interruption,” Mr. Chandler said quickly, waving her forward. “Please join us.”
With a nod she stepped farther into the room, but didn’t bother to take a seat.
“Aunt Rowena has generously agreed to stick this out until the end of the week,” he said, “assuming it doesn’t get just outright unbearable. I have until then to figure out other arrangements for the children.”
Was he going to look for another live-in housekeeper and nanny until a wife could be found? Perhaps she could help him with that. Her mind was already turning over potential names.
Before she could offer up any of those names, however, he straightened. “Excuse me. I need to clean up and discuss the new sleeping arrangements with the kids. Or perhaps I should say, inform them that the old arrangements will stand for now.”
Janell wasn’t sure if she was being dismissed or not. “Would you like me to work with you and the children on the sign-language lessons as we’d planned, or would you prefer to postpone it until tomorrow?”
Mr. Chandler hesitated, glancing toward his aunt uncertainly.
She made shooing motions with her hands. “There’s no reason to postpone anything on my account. That’s why I’m here, after all, to free you up to do what needs to be done.”
Mr. Chandler gave his aunt a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. You’re my favorite aunt, you know.”
Mrs. Collins grinned at him. “I’m your only aunt,” she said drily. But the faint pinkening of her cheeks indicated his words had touched her.
Then he turned to Janell. “As soon as I’ve cleaned up, I’ll get the kids and then we can get started.”
Janell nodded, then turned to Mrs. Collins. “Is there anything I can do to help you while I’m waiting?” It seemed strange to turn over control of the kitchen to another woman. Even though it had been only a few days, she’d grown used to being in charge here.
When Mr. Chandler’s aunt indicated that she had everything well in hand, Janell slowly headed to the parlor, her mind still mulling over her self-appointed task of playing matchmaker for Mr. Chandler. She hadn’t done anything but think about it so far. But she couldn’t put it off any longer. The children needed stability in their lives. It was her duty to find someone who could be a true mother to them. And a good wife to their uncle.
And for some reason, she found that challenge didn’t excite her as it should have.
A few minutes later Mr. Chandler returned, ushering the children into the room before him.
They worked on learning to sign the alphabet until Mrs. Collins announced that supper was ready.
Janell closed the notebook as the children moved to the kitchen. Mr. Chandler had hung back as well and she met his gaze with a satisfied smile. “I think we made good progress today. Chloe seems to be attacking the lessons with a little more enthusiasm.”
He nodded. “I thought so, too. It’s a good first step, I suppose.”
She stood. “I should be going now.”
His brow shot up. “Aren’t you planning to have supper with us? I’m sure Aunt Rowena cooked plenty.”
Sh
e resisted the temptation to say yes. “Thank you, but now that your aunt is here, perhaps it would be better if you ate as a family. You don’t need an outsider to—”
He cut her off before she could finish. “You’re not an outsider. In fact, at the moment, the children probably consider you as much family as they do me and definitely more than Aunt Rowena.”
Did he think of her that way, too? “But—”
“I won’t hear of you going away hungry. Feeding you is the least I can do to repay you for your time here.”
“Very well,” she said. “Thank you for the invitation.” Then she stepped past him. “I’ll see if your aunt needs any help.”
Their arms brushed against each other and she felt a startling shiver of response.
Did he feel it, too?
More important, how could she make sure it didn’t happen again?
* * *
Hank let Miss Whitman leave the room. Her reaction to his accidental touch just now hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not that she’d been alone in that reaction.
But if she felt the attraction, too, why was she being so stubborn about acknowledging it?
At least she’d decided to stay for supper. It was important that this first meal with his aunt go well, and his gut told him that would have a better chance of happening if the schoolteacher was present.
Hank stepped into the kitchen a moment later and one look at his aunt told him she wouldn’t last long here. Her eyes were still puffy and watery, her nose still red. She must be miserable. But still she managed to smile at the children and direct them on getting the table ready.
It was good to see that the two women were working harmoniously together.
He wondered if whomever he chose for his wife would fit in here so seamlessly.
Somehow, he didn’t think so.
Chapter Thirteen
After supper, Miss Whitman, true to form, insisted on helping his aunt clean the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day,” she said when the woman protested. “This will go faster if we tackle it together.”
Hank pitched in to help as well, and in no time the task was done.
As soon as the last dish was put away, Miss Whitman retrieved her shawl from the peg by the door.
“If it’s okay with Mrs. Collins, I’ll come by tomorrow as we’d planned, to work with the children some more. I’ll return to the classroom on Wednesday and perhaps Alex will be ready to join my class by then.”
“I’ll be pleased to have your company,” Mrs. Collins said.
Hank insisted on escorting her, and since his aunt was there to watch the children, she didn’t protest.
As they stepped outside, Hank saw the schoolteacher give a tiny shiver, then draw her shawl tighter around her. Dusk had settled in and it was now much cooler than it had been when the sun was high. Without giving it much thought, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
She looked up with wide eyes and a startled expression. “Mr. Chandler, that’s very gentlemanly of you but quite unnecessary. I have my shawl and surely you need your jacket.”
Why did she have to argue about everything? “You were cold, weren’t you?”
Her brow furrowed. “Well, yes, but not unbearably so. And we don’t have far—”
He’d heard enough. “Then keep it on. I’ll get it back from you when we reach the boardinghouse.”
“I...” She paused and looked at him uncertainly. Then she drew the jacket more closely around her. “Well...thank you.”
That was better. “You’re welcome.”
They were silent for a few moments. Then she spoke up. “I’m sorry things are so uncomfortable for your aunt.”
“She’s willing to try to stick it out but I can’t do that to her. I need to send her home by the end of the week, if not sooner.”
“You do know it’s going to be nearly impossible to find you a wife before she leaves, don’t you?”
“I know it’s going to be tricky, but surely it’s not altogether impossible.” Trouble was, he couldn’t drum up enthusiasm for another bride when he was in the schoolteacher’s company.
“True, but highly improbable. I believe you need to start thinking about a contingency plan.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Oh, come now. There are a number of things you can do. Hire someone to cook and watch the children, for one.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps for a week or so, but only as a last resort.”
She gave him a curious look but, to his surprise, didn’t ask him to elaborate. Which, he supposed, was why he did. “Finding extra money is a bit of a problem at the moment.”
* * *
Janell was surprised by his admission. She hadn’t believed him to be a wealthy man, but she hadn’t figured him for a man of tight means, either.
Was his sawmill in trouble?
Or did this have something to do with settling his sister and brother-in-law’s affairs?
She thought about offering him some money, but men could be quite touchy when it came to financial matters. So instead she changed the subject. “I see the mayor is doing his part to decorate the whole town this year.” All of the lampposts in town were sporting jaunty red bows and sprigs of holly.
Hank looked around and grimaced. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
She grinned. “You weren’t at the Thanksgiving festival this year, so you probably haven’t heard. The mayor thinks we should show more Christmas spirit. So he’s offered up a calf from his prize bull to the shopkeeper who does the best job of decorating his storefront for Christmas.” She cast him a sideways look. “So will you be decorating the mill?”
Mr. Chandler just rolled his eyes.
They’d reached the boardinghouse by then and Mr. Chandler escorted her right up to the front door. It was rather nice to have a gentleman pay such particular attention to her. Perhaps it wouldn’t be difficult to find a lady willing to marry this man—despite his rough exterior, he could be quite an agreeable companion.
“Thank you for escorting me home, Mr. Chandler.”
“It’s the least I can do to repay you for all of your help these last few days.”
“Miss Bruder is set to take my class again tomorrow, so I’ll visit with Betty June first thing.”
“I’d wish you luck but that sounds rather self-serving.”
At least he still had his sense of humor.
“But I don’t want to take advantage of your generous nature. Aunt Rowena can take care of things while she’s here.”
“Your aunt is here to help you keep your house running smoothly and to be around at night if you should need her. But she can’t teach the children sign language. And with the effect Smudge’s presence has on her, she may not be able to stay until Friday.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “Very well, but I insist that after tomorrow you don’t take any more days off to help us.”
She nodded. “If things go well tomorrow, I’ll return to my job on Wednesday. I suggest Alex start attending class then as well.”
“But not Chloe?”
“To be honest, I think it will actually do them both good to be separated for a day or two.”
“I agree, if Alex doesn’t spend all his time worrying about Chloe.”
“I’ll do my best to see that he doesn’t.”
“How do you think Chloe and Aunt Rowena will handle being alone together?”
Janell was flattered that he seemed to want her opinion. “Your aunt seems like a strong woman who genuinely cares for people. It may get a bit uncomfortable at first, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She fingered the jacket’s collar. “But we can talk about it after we see how tomorrow goes.”
“I agree.” He shov
ed his hands deeper into his pockets, looking pensive.
She slipped his jacket from her shoulders and handed it to him. “Thank you for loaning me this yet again.”
“You’re welcome.” He shrugged back into it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with a touch to the brim of his hat, he quickly descended the porch steps.
Janell watched him walk away. His bearing was so confident, his stride so assertive. This was a man who knew what he wanted out of life and wasn’t afraid to go after it. Except when it came to the children.
As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, Janell found herself missing the feel of his jacket on her shoulders. It had enveloped her so nicely in its warmth, surrounded her with a scent that was so masculine and wholly him.
Strange that the thought of him marrying another woman left her feeling vaguely bereft. It was only because she’d grown so fond of the children, she told herself. She’d miss her daily visits with them once they were in another woman’s care. She’d see them at school, of course, but that wasn’t quite the same.
Being in their home, cooking their meals, sitting down to dine with them—it had felt almost as if she had a family of her own.
She’d forgotten just how wonderful and fulfilling that felt.
Janell shook off those melancholy thoughts as she stepped into her set of rooms. She had a good life here. She loved her work and her students, and she’d been welcomed into the homes of many of their families on numerous occasions.
She was truly blessed in the life she’d built here.
Wishing for more, such as a family and home of her own, was just plain selfish.
But oh, how her rebellious heart yearned for more...
* * *
Hank pulled up his collar against the cold as he headed home. He’d almost proposed to her again. Not only would marrying her solve all of his problems, but he was also beginning to like having her around.
Not that he’d formed any kind of romantic attachment to her—no indeed, he was long past that kind of foolish nonsense. It was just that he’d got used to her and it would take an effort to get used to someone else.
The Holiday Courtship Page 11