Chapter Four

      Willow was surprised to discover she had been assigned a room by herself. From the number of people now living in Daisy’s house—Daisy, Snow, Ollie, Thaddeus and a family housekeeper named Myrtle—Willow had assumed she would be sharing accommodations with somebody.

      Sharing a room with her sisters all her life and listening to them breathe at night had always given her the comfort of knowing that she wasn’t alone. Working in Atlanta and renting a room at the boardinghouse had been a real challenge because she had to brave the night noises alone. Something she knew she must conquer at some point if she was to ever make a success of living on her own.

      For tonight, Daisy and Snow would be only a room or two away, so it wasn’t as if she’d really be alone in a houseful of strangers.

      Snow liked everything kept in perfect order and free of clutter. Willow did, too, but it wasn’t something she quite managed. She took a look around the room. Her soggy dress lay in an emerald pile on the braided rug next to the quilt-covered four-poster bed. As soon as the children had toted in her baggage and left her alone, she’d quickly changed. An inspection of her belongings in the damp baggage had offered one blue frock that seemed dry enough to make her presentable for the rest of the evening. She would have to heat up Daisy’s irons and press the remainder of her clothes before she had anything to wear to the wedding.

      A small washstand connected to an armoire housed a flowered pitcher and matching bowl that provided water and a place to wash the remaining soot off her face and hands. The towel she’d found in one of the drawers now stretched across the quilt, streaked with evidence that she’d arrived looking like a raccoon that had rummaged in a chimney full of cinders.

      After thorough brushes through her thick hair, she’d had to leave the curls down to let them dry and hope they would before morning so she could wear them up for the wedding.

      Yes, maybe it was good that she didn’t have to share rooms with Snow tonight. Her sister would gripe on first sight of this mess. But if Snow stayed true to form, Willow should be able to crack her door open just enough to hear her sister snoring all the way down the hall. That ought to be reassuring enough to maintain a sense of ease for the night.

      “Are you about finished up there, Willow?” Daisy called from the parlor below. “The meal’s ready and you need to eat while it’s hot. Thaddeus, come to the table, please. Make sure your hands are washed.”

      “What about Ollie?” His voice echoed from nearby.

      “Worry about yourself, son.”

      “Be right down.” Willow glanced at the messy room and promised herself she would tidy up later just in case the children wanted to come in and wish her good-night. She wanted to start things off right with them.

      Thinking of asking Daisy about the heating irons, she grabbed Gage’s hat and decided to try her best to press it back into shape.

      She exited her room, taking a good look down the hall to find which direction would lead her to the staircase.

      “This way.” Thaddeus poked his head around a corner and pointed behind him. “I got lost a couple of nights when I first got here. If you want me to—” he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small knife “—I’ll mark an X on the wall so you’ll remember it’s thisaway.”

      “That won’t be necessary,” she told him, hurrying to catch up while counting how many bedrooms she passed so she would remember which one she’d been assigned. Encouraging him to carve a direction would not sit well with his mother. Maybe she’d better ask Daisy if she knew about the knife. “You can put that away.”

      He shrugged. “Okay, but don’t blame me if you get lost or fall.”

      Images of her stumbling made Willow grab the railing securely once they reached the stairs. No need to take chances.

      “Who’s going to fall?” asked Ollie as she swept past Willow, turned backward and straddled the banister. “You can always sli-ide down and have fun!” She gave a rowdy “Yee-haw!” as she slid to the first floor.

      Watching her precocious niece the next two months would take some real concentration, Willow realized. The eight-year-old seemed fearless.

      “You two quit trying to ruffle your aunt’s feathers and get to the table right now,” ordered a pleasantly plump salt-and-pepper-haired woman who met them at the bottom of the stairs. Dressed in a paisley skirt, butternut blouse and an apron, she carried a picnic basket covered with a checkered cloth.

      The delicious aromas wafting from beneath the cloth made Willow’s stomach constrict with hunger and reminded her that she had not eaten since sunrise. Her stomach had churned back and forth with the sway of the coach all day and nearly made her lose breakfast once or twice. She had thought it would take a week for her appetite to return.

      “Howdy-do, Miss Willow. I’m Myrtle, your sister’s cook and housekeeper,” the woman said. “I’d curtsy but I got my hands full. I know Daisy’s told you some about me in her letters but we’ll get to know each other well, I expect. Go on in and have you some supper. I’ll be right back.”

      She lifted one cowboy boot she wore and scratched the back of her other leg with its tooled instep. Some of Daisy’s leatherwork? Willow wondered.

      “Excuse me, I got an itch I can’t reach proper,” the cook apologized. “Now, as I was saying, Shepard takes meals on his own, not with the family, and I like him to eat while it’s hot. I think he prefers being with those horses better than he does us gals, if you ask me. Can’t convince him to come in and join us. And you won’t find me a badgering kind of gal.”

      “Aww, you’re sweet on him, Myrtie,” Ollie teased, “and you know it.”

      The cook spun on her booted heels and headed out the door, calling back over her shoulder, “Don’t try hitching this old goose to a young gander like that, Little Miss Matchmaker. You’ll run him off, and we need him to stay till your mom and new daddy come back home.”

      “I ain’t making no promises,” Ollie warned.

      “And I ain’t helping you do nothing. It always gets me in big trouble,” Thaddeus threatened.

      “How about we leave poor Mr. Hutton and your cook alone to make their own choices,” Willow suggested, deciding it best to let the children know she wouldn’t allow them to interfere with anything the two employees had in mind while Daisy was gone.

      As a hopeful writer, she thought it would be interesting to explore all sorts of relationships. Why couldn’t an older woman fall in love with a slightly younger man? Didn’t older men tend to take younger wives? “I’m sure they both know exactly what they’re doing without any help from us.”

      Just as she and the children headed for the kitchen table, a knock sounded at the door. Willow halted and glanced back, wondering if the cook had forgotten something and returned to get it. She hadn’t had time to deliver the basket to the barn yet, had she? But why would she be knocking?

      “I’ll get it,” Ollie informed them.

      “You two get in here and let Willow answer it,” demanded Snow. “You’re just trying to avoid eating. I’ve already checked the potatoes. Nobody’s done anything to them. You’re safe.”

      What