“Oh, my, no. In fact, they’ll probably be happier if they have someone to share with. Why don’t we put the girls in three of the second-floor rooms and Mr. Tucker and the boys in three of the rooms on the third?”
Eileen nodded, relieved that Dovie agreed. That would mean fewer rooms to prepare and fewer bed linens to deal with. “That sounds like an acceptable approach.”
The two women had barely started when the doorbell sounded. Eileen left Dovie to finish opening the windows and stripping the beds while she went to see who was at the door. Surely Mr. Tucker hadn’t returned already?
When she opened the door, however, it was Ivy Parker, and right behind her was her husband, Mitch, and a couple of young boys. All four of them were loaded down with armfuls of linens.
“Hello,” Ivy said cheerily. “Where would you like us to set these?”
Eileen stepped aside. “Please come in.” She waved to the open doorway on the left. “You can set it all on the table in the dining room.”
As they trooped into her home, Ivy chattered away. “The members of the Ladies Auxiliary all contributed something. You’ll find sheets and coverlets enough for eight beds. If you need more, let us know. We also figured you’d need some extra towels so we brought a stack of those, as well.”
Extra towels—of course. She should have thought of that. What else hadn’t she taken into consideration? And the thought of ten children needing baths was enough to send a shiver up her spine.
But it would never do to show a lack of confidence—she was the lady of the house. It was her duty to make all of her guests feel at home. “Thank you. I’m sure we will be able to put all of this to good use.”
Once everything was safely deposited on the table, Ivy shooed her husband and the youths away, then turned to Eileen. “Now, what can I do to help you get ready for the invasion?”
“That’s really not necessary. Dovie is assisting and between the two of us—”
Ivy interrupted with a wave of her hand. “Fiddlesticks. I don’t mind a bit, and it’ll give me a chance to visit with Nana Dovie.”
Ivy had been orphaned as an infant and Dovie had been the one to raise her. They were very much like mother and daughter even though there was no blood tie between them. Eileen supposed, more than anyone else in town, these two women could truly relate to these children and their situation.
Without waiting for a response, Ivy headed for the stairs. “By the way, Reggie volunteered to take care of the evening meal for you all today so there’s no need to worry about that.”
Regina Barr was Eileen’s nearest neighbor and the current head of the Ladies Auxiliary.
Ivy looked back over her shoulder without slowing. “And there’s a list forming of volunteers to handle the meals for the next several days.”
At least that was one worry off her shoulders. The food she’d put up from her garden this past summer and what she had left to harvest from her fall planting was supposed to take her through the winter. She could ill afford to feed an army of children solely from her own stores for more than a few days without adversely affecting her future menus.
With a start she realized Ivy was already headed up the stairs. Since Ivy had boarded here for a while before she married the schoolteacher, she knew where everything was.
Managing to catch up to her without breaking into a hoydenish rush, Eileen decided it would do no good to argue—she’d learned Ivy usually went her own way.
Ivy rolled up her sleeves and set to work as soon as she reached the second floor. As far as Eileen could tell, her former boarder seemed to see nothing amiss with the stark furnishings and lack of fancy drapes and coverlets in the spare bedchambers. She supposed, if anyone in town had to see her true state of affairs, then Ivy and Dovie would be the most sympathetic to her situation. Neither had known her before her fall from grace or had witnessed the lavish way she’d conducted her life back then. For that matter, nor did any of the visitors who would be here for the next few days. So there were no unflattering comparisons for them to make, no unpleasant history for them to remember.
As for Mr. Tucker, the admiration she’d seen in his eyes had been very disconcerting. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time. And she was honest enough to admit, just for a moment, she’d wanted to bask in it.
Perhaps it was worth all this bother just for that small, precious gift.
She just had to make certain she didn’t get used to it.
Because it wasn’t likely to come from anyone else anytime soon.
* * *
When Simon checked in at the restaurant to see how the kids were faring, the women there assured him they had everything under control. He’d been surprised to see that one end of the restaurant housed a library. He hadn’t expected such niceties in this small-town community.
The reverend’s daughter, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, was reading a book to several of the younger children, while some of the older ones were browsing the shelves and thumbing through books on their own. Mrs. Harper pulled him aside to assure him they would keep an eye on the children for as long as he needed them to.
Satisfied they were in good hands, Simon headed to Dr. Pratt’s clinic to check on Miss Fredrick.
He was thankful they’d landed in the midst of such good people. On his own he’d have been totally inadequate to the task of looking after the children. After all, what did a thirty-year-old bachelor like him know about taking care of kids, especially little girls. And while Mrs. Pierce might not be the maternal type, her boarder, Miss Jacobs, would know how to deal with the needs of the children. Surely between the three of them, they could manage whatever was required over the next few days.
And hopefully they wouldn’t be here in Turnabout longer than that. He had to keep believing Miss Fredrick would recover soon and they could be on their way once more. Surely God wouldn’t allow for any other outcome.
That thought made him wince. He of all people should know that bad things did happen to good people, even innocent children, and God alone knew the reasons.
Unbidden, his thoughts turned to when he was nine years old and his own parents had died. He and his sisters had been farmed out to different relatives and rarely got to see each other again. In fact, his youngest sister, Imogene, had passed away the following year without him even knowing until the funeral was over and done with.
Just one more sign of what Uncle Corbitt’s opinion of “that side of the family” had been.
Simon determinedly pushed those thoughts away and entered the doctor’s office trying to maintain a hopeful outlook. “How’s Miss Fredrick doing?”
The somberness in the spare, white-haired doctor’s demeanor wasn’t encouraging. “I wish I had better news for you, but she’s not showing any signs of improvement.”
“But she is going to get better, isn’t she?” He couldn’t quite mask the hint of desperation in his voice.
The doctor came around his desk and leaned back against it as he faced Simon sympathetically. “I’m afraid you need to face facts. There’s a very real possibility she might never regain consciousness. If there’s anyone to be notified, I would do it now.”
Simon raked his hand through his hair, not wanting to accept what the doctor was saying. “She has a brother—his name is Wilbur I believe—but they had a falling-out. Other than the children, she doesn’t have anyone else that I’m aware of.”
“Notify her brother.” The doctor’s tone was firm. “I find most people put their differences