A Tailor-Made Husband. Winnie Griggs
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way they’d settled matters.
His mind was reeling from the double blow Hazel had landed him. First saying she was moving away—his mind still shied away from that one—then giving in to Meg’s pleas to let her stay at his place. Both seemed like betrayals, though he refused to think about which stabbed deeper.
How could Hazel have done this to him? Especially after he’d given her all the reasons why Meg staying at his place couldn’t work. And it wasn’t just the demands of his job, though that should have been enough to make his point. Didn’t Hazel know about the added demands that dealing with this town hooligan had placed on him?
But he wasn’t fit to be caretaker of a little girl under any circumstances, especially one who was so young. He’d thought Hazel understood.
Was her sudden defection due to the fact that she was moving away? Was it so easy for her to leave everything she’d grown up with behind? Leave every one behind?
Things seemed to be changing so fast. He still hadn’t gotten used to the loss of Bethany. And then being thrust into the role of caretaker for Meg. Now Hazel up and announced she’s leaving. It was just too much to take in.
After the meal, he escorted them back to Hazel’s place, feeling acutely conscious of the curious looks they were receiving from the folks they passed. He supposed it was difficult for his neighbors to see him in the role of a child’s guardian as well.
As soon as they stepped inside the dress shop, Meg went in search of Pugs and Buttons.
Taking advantage of the opportunity to speak freely, Ward turned to Hazel. He wanted to ask her not to leave. But he had no right. And nothing to offer her if she stayed. So he focused on Meg instead. “You realize I know nothing about being a parent to a little girl.”
She moved to the shop counter. “You did okay with Bethany.”
“Bethany was twelve, not four, when our father passed. And we both know how badly I failed in taking care of her.”
She spun around, her expression dismayed. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your—”
He interrupted her before she could finish that statement. “Spare me your platitudes.” He waved a hand, silencing whatever protest she seemed poised to make. “But that’s beside the point. As sheriff, I’m likely to get called out in the middle of the night. How can I do my job if I’m playing nanny?”
Her lips pursed in exasperation. “You won’t be playing anything. And you’ll be a father to her, not a nanny.”
He jerked his hand, dismissing her explanation. “Those are just words. I’m not qualified to be either.”
But she didn’t relent. “You’ll figure something out. And as you’ve said yourself, this is just a temporary situation. Once you get the answers you’re looking for, you’ll be able to turn Meg over to the proper parties. Until then, yes, perhaps as sheriff you’ll be slightly less responsive in the evenings than normal.” She straightened. “And, if the worst happens and you really need to be out, you can bring her here to me, any time of night or day.”
He could tell she meant that. But he wasn’t certain how practical that solution would be given the kinds of situations he might be called on to respond to. For now, though, he’d have to accept her terms. “I warn you, I start making my rounds very early in the mornings.”
“That won’t be a problem—I’m an early riser as well.”
It seemed she had an answer for everything.
They just weren’t the answers he was hoping for.
Hazel gave him a breezy smile. “You undoubtedly have some things you need to attend to. Why don’t you just go about your business. I’ll bring Meg to your place at, say, half past five?”
Was she actually dismissing him? He wasn’t at all a fan of this new Hazel, the one who was looking ahead to leaving Turnabout rather than trying to claim his attention. This was going to take some getting used to.
Of course, since she was leaving soon, there wouldn’t be a “new Hazel” to get used to much longer.
But she was right, he did have some things to attend to. He nodded, then turned to Meg. “I’ll see you later, Half-pint. Be good and mind Miss Hazel.”
As Ward marched out of Hazel’s shop, he jammed his hands in his pockets. Why was Hazel pretending she didn’t hold him accountable for what happened to Bethany? She’d been there that day, after all, had seen what had happened when that rotten board in the loft gave way.
Of course she didn’t know the full extent of his guilt. Bethany had fallen out of the barn loft because he had neglected to make the needed repairs, even though he’d known it needed tending to.
And why had he put it off? Because he’d been busy mooning over a girl. He’d spent so much time that week trying to figure out how to ask Lucy Brick if he could walk her to church the following Sunday that he hadn’t gotten around to doing all the maintenance work he’d set for himself.
And because of his lack of discipline, Bethany had fallen and never been quite the same again.
It had been his first and most tragic lesson in how costly such distractions could be. He’d almost forgotten that last year, had let his guard down again because of a desire to get closer to someone. He’d begun to think just maybe he could relax his guard a bit around Hazel, could perhaps look at her as more than a friend.
Then that Walker girl had been kidnapped right under his nose. That incident had ended on a happier note than the one with Bethany, but her rescue had been no thanks to him.
It just proved, once and for all, that he couldn’t do his job, a job where others depended on him, if his loyalties were divided.
It 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