A Family for Christmas. Winnie Griggs
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considered, but Eve could tell it was what he’d been leading up to all along.
“Do you really think so?” the man asked. “I mean, it’s hard work and I couldn’t afford to pay much.”
But Leo was leaning forward eagerly. “That’s okay. I don’t mind the work, and I’ll need some money to get by on once the sheriff finds out I’m not lying.”
Eve lightly touched his arm but kept her gaze on Chance. “Of course, since you are so generously opening your home to us, Leo and I will be happy to pitch in and help with the chores as much as we are able. And we wouldn’t dream of taking payment.” She withdrew her hand but gave Leo a pointed look. “Isn’t that right?”
Leo’s expression lost its eager edge, but he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She was pleased to have her faith in him proved true. But his comment about needing money to get by concerned her. Did the boy truly believe he would be allowed to go off on his own once matters were settled? He would need a guardian of some sort, whether he wanted one or not. But perhaps now was not the time to open that avenue of conversation.
However, it did bring up the question of just what would happen to him. And right now she didn’t have an answer.
Their food arrived then, delivered by a younger girl with reddish-gold hair and a saucy smile.
“Hello, Abigail,” Mr. Dawson greeted her. “Don’t tell me Daisy let you into her kitchen.”
“And just why would that come as a surprise to you?” The girl gave him an indignant look. “You don’t think Daisy is the only member of this family who can cook, do you?”
Mr. Dawson leaned back and raised his hands as if she’d attacked him. “Far be it from me to question your talents, in any arena.”
The girl responded to his obvious teasing with a smile. “Actually, I’m in training. I’ll be taking over for a few weeks after the baby comes.”
Then she turned to Eve as she set a dish in front of her. “And since Chance here seems to have forgotten his manners, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Abigail Fulton. Daisy’s husband is my brother.”
They exchanged greetings as Abigail set out the food, then the girl disappeared back into the kitchen.
Eve noted the way Leo dug his spoon into his bowl, as if he hadn’t eaten for days, which he well may not have. But there were other ways to nourish him, as well.
She briefly touched his arm. “Shall we say grace first?”
Leo set his spoon down, his cheeks turning red. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
She smiled. “No need to apologize. We all forget sometimes.” She turned to Mr. Dawson. “Would you care to lead us?”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished them back. She’d put him on the spot! What if he wasn’t comfortable with praying aloud?
Had her deplorable tendency to act first and think later caused her yet another misstep?
Chapter Five
Chance could tell from her expression that she wasn’t certain he’d comply. Actually, while he didn’t always remember to do so, he had no trouble at all offering up a prayer. His mother had taught him well before she passed. And while he’d had more than a few bouts of rebellion growing up, and still questioned why he’d been saddled with such a shameful affliction, he’d never really lost faith in the Almighty.
He nodded and folded his hands, elbows on the table. “Heavenly Father, bless this meal we are about to partake of, and watch over these visitors who have unexpectedly arrived in our community. Let them feel welcome here, for whatever time they may be with us. In Your Son’s name we pray. Amen.”
His companions echoed his amen, then they all picked up their spoons.
Chance had seen Eve’s keen interest in the newspaper office when they’d passed by earlier. He’d also noticed the longing looks she’d sent toward Abigail’s library when they first entered the restaurant. She obviously enjoyed reading—a pastime he envied but could never share.
He decided to circle back to the question she’d tried to sidestep earlier. “So, Eve, do you have a burning desire to become a hat maker?”
He saw the walls go up in her expression and thought for a moment she’d ignore his question again. But he maintained an expression of innocent curiosity, and she finally responded politely, even if not altogether warmly.
“My taking a position as a milliner was actually my grandmother’s idea,” she said carefully. “The opportunities for employment in Iron Bluff are very limited so she contacted her friend Mrs. O’Connell, who graciously offered to take me in and train me.”
Now, why was a sheltered young woman such as this worrying about employment in the first place—shouldn’t she instead be finding a husband? Or was there a dearth of marriageable bachelors in Iron Bluff?
“I’m quite grateful for the opportunity,” she added as she reached for her glass.
His questions had definitely brought back that stiff, schoolmarm demeanor in her. How much further would she let him press?
She set her glass down and faced him evenly. “As for your earlier question, I’m not so set on millinery work that I wouldn’t be willing to do work of other kinds while I am here in Turnabout—housekeeper, cook, laundress— whatever might be available.”
Did she truly want to find a job while she was here? Perhaps she didn’t understand the arrangement he had offered her. “That’s not necessary. I don’t plan to charge you and Leo for the rooms. After all, they’re just sitting empty right now and it won’t cost me anything for you to stay there.”
Her lips pursed primly. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not one to sit idle. Besides which, having a bit of pocket money would not go amiss.”
Was she low on funds? He’d noticed the way she’d studied the menu with that furrow between her brows. He’d thought she was just trying to decide on a selection, but perhaps she’d been worrying about the prices. Finances could be a touchy subject, though, so he’d have to tread carefully. “I’ll ask around and keep my ears open.” He saw the quickly masked disappointment in her face. So she’d been serious about wanting to find work. He was curious to learn more. “Tell me, if you could have any job at all, what would you really like to do?”
He watched her swirl her spoon through the bowl of stew. “I’ve never really thought about that before.”
That struck Chance as a very sad statement. Didn’t she know how to dream? “Well, think about it now.”
She was quiet for another moment. Then a slow, smile blossomed on her face. “I’d open a confectionery.”
“What’s a confectionery?” Leo asked.
She gave him an impish smile. “It’s like a candy store.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness, wouldn’t that be a grand place to work?”
Eve laughed and it totally transformed her face. She really was quite pretty when she allowed herself to relax. “That it would,” she said.
“Why a confectionery?” Her answer had surprised him, but he was delighted by the unexpectedness of it.
She took on a faraway look. “When I was a schoolgirl, my Sunday school teacher would invite some of her students into her home at Christmastime. We would make all sorts of wondrous treats. She taught us to make fudge and caramels and pralines and all manner of sweet things—just bowls and platters full of them.”
“What did you do with all that candy?” Leo asked. “Did you get to eat it?”
She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Some. Because,