He’d seen Hazel peeking inside when she thought he wasn’t looking. What had she thought of the place? Not that that mattered, he told himself irritably.
Meg moved to the sofa, drawing his attention back to her. “Is this where Chessie and I are gonna sleep?”
“I’m afraid so.” Was the child having second thoughts about the arrangement? He certainly was. “It’s not too late to go back to Miss Hazel’s place if you want.” He did his best to keep the hopeful note out of his voice.
Meg sat down on her soon-to-be bed with a bounce. “I like it here.” Then she looked around. “Where will Pugs sleep?”
“Over there on the floor by the stove.” He hoped Half-pint wasn’t expecting him to turn any of his linens into a dog bed.
Meg popped up and went to the cart. “Me and Miss Hazel made him a bed, we just need to decide where to put it.”
Of course they had. “That was right thoughtful of you.”
“Uh-huh. And it’s pretty too.” She drew out a large, lumpy-looking pillow made of a yellow-and-blue-striped fabric. “Pugs already tried it out and he likes it.”
“As he should.” He hoped Meg didn’t hear the note of sarcasm in his voice.
Fortunately, the child seemed oblivious to any undertones. She nodded agreeably. “We’re going to make another one for him to use at Miss Hazel’s house when we’re there with her.”
“Sounds like Pugs is going to be a very pampered pooch.”
She nodded. “Miss Hazel says Pugs took very good care of your sister and that he probably misses her a lot. So now we need to take extra special care of him.”
Leave it to Hazel to put such a sentimental spin on it. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to fault her for it. “Miss Hazel is right.” Ward looked at the cart full of things Hazel had delivered along with Meg. Apparently she had indulged in a bit of shopping this afternoon. He’d have to remember to reimburse her.
Having to stow all of this stuff made Meg’s moving in feel much more permanent than it had seemed earlier. Where was he going to find the room? He looked around at the sparse furnishings of his place. There was really only one choice.
He moved to the large bookshelf situated on the far end of the room. He quickly cleared off one of the lower shelves. “Let’s stack your things here for now. We’ll find something better tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” Meg carefully placed her doll on the sofa and came over to help him.
Nestled in one corner of the cart, he found what looked like a miniature bird cage, complete with a metallic bird perched inside. “What’s this?”
“It’s a music box. Miss Hazel gave it to me. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you ever saw?”
“It’s mighty pretty, all right.” He examined the delicate brass contraption.
Meg nodded. “She has a lot of them and she let me pick out whichever one I wanted.” The child took it from him and turned the key affixed to the back of the box. “This one was my favorite.” As soon as she released the key, a lilting tune began to play, filling his home with its happy sound.
“I never had anything this special before,” she said dreamily.
They finished unloading Meg’s things to the strains of the delicate tune.
He finally leaned back on his heels, studying the results of their labor. Maybe he could come up with a couple of crates or an old trunk tomorrow. Perhaps Hazel had something he could borrow.
He paused on that thought. He’d have to stop relying on the accommodating seamstress for those sorts of things.
Was she really leaving? She’d said it was because she wanted to work with her aunt, but he suspected there was more to it than that. What wasn’t she saying? It shouldn’t bother him so much that she wasn’t confiding in him, but for some reason, it did. She’d always been so open with him before. If truth be told, she often over shared. He couldn’t remember now why that had irritated him.
Meg tugged on his pants leg, reclaiming his attention. She had retrieved the book he’d just put away. “Would you like to read me and Chessie a story?” she asked.
He stood and dusted his hands. “All right, but let’s get your bed fixed up first.”
Hazel had been supremely confident that he could handle this. It suddenly seemed quite important he proved her confidence in him was not misplaced.
* * *
Hazel had been up since dawn. How had Ward and Meg gotten on last night? It had been difficult to leave yesterday evening, especially when she’d seen the I’m-not-ready-for-this-yet expression on Ward’s face. But it had been the right thing to do. That little girl had her heart set on being Ward’s family and Ward needed someone in his life to show him that kind of devotion.
And it obviously wasn’t going to be her. As she sipped on her morning cup of coffee, she bowed her head and offered up a heartfelt prayer.
Heavenly Father, I don’t know how long or short a time Meg will be under Ward’s care, but I do believe that You brought them together for a reason. Please help these two hurting souls find solace and healing in each other, for whatever time they have together.
After she’d put out some food for Buttons and spent time cooing over him as befitted his temperament, she straightened and looked around her for something else to do. “I really should spend some time sorting through my things and packing the items that can be shipped ahead,” she told the feline absently. “Then again, Ward did say he was an early riser so maybe I’ll just go downstairs to the emporium and open the doors now. What do you think?”
The cat continued eating without acknowledging her words.
“Downstairs it is.” She turned toward the stairs and descended to her shop. She unlocked the door and turned the sign from Closed to Open. Mr. Hill had already turned out the town’s streetlamps so it wasn’t quite as early as she’d thought. But even so, hers was the first shop on her block to open for a change.
Hazel had just finished raising the shades on the display window when Ward escorted Meg and Pugs into the place.
“Good morning,” Ward greeted her. “I see you’re as good as your word about rising early.”
She noted the hint of surprise in his voice. “Of course. No point in letting the cool of the morning go to waste.”
Meg’s pigtails were slightly uneven but at least all the hair was contained and she seemed to be in a sunny mood.
“Did you two have breakfast yet?”
Meg nodded enthusiastically. “Sheriff Gleason and I had some bread and fig jam. It was very good.”
Ward looked sheepish. “It was all I had. I’ll pick up some groceries before she returns to my place this afternoon.”
Did he even know how to cook for a four-year-old?
Wanting to have a word in private with Ward, she smiled down at Meg. “If you and Pugs would like to go say good morning to Buttons, he’s right over there by the button bin.”
With a nod, Meg skipped over to greet the cat.
Hazel immediately turned to Ward. “So how did things really go last night?”
He grimaced. “It could have gone better. But we both survived so I guess that’s something.”
“Was it really so terrible?”
He shrugged. “One thing I figured out pretty quick was that I’ll have to do something about our sleeping arrangements.”