had mentioned that there was hardly anything in the girl’s travel bag—a change of clothing, a wooden toy, a nightshirt.
She looked through her own things and came up with an extra hairbrush, a sweet-scented bar of soap she’d purchased last time she was in New York and a soft washcloth.
She studied the still-meager collection, feeling dissatisfied with the result. A trip to the mercantile was definitely in order. They’d go as soon as Meg woke from her nap.
The little girl slept for nearly an hour but when she woke she was once more a bubbly chatterbox. When Hazel explained about the trip to the mercantile, Meg seemed to look on it as an adventure.
There were three other customers in the store and Mr. Blakely was behind the counter when they arrived. All heads turned and conversation ceased when she and Meg walked in. Meg turned suddenly shy and moved closer to Hazel’s side. Hazel placed a hand protectively on her shoulder.
“Good day, Mr. Blakely,” she said cheerily. She introduced Meg merely as a new friend, then straightened. “We’re just here to pick up a few necessities.”
“Of course.” The mercantile owner nodded. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”
Hazel led Meg down the middle aisle where she found a toothbrush and toothpaste, which had been conspicuously missing from Meg’s things. She also found some ready-made undergarments and a nightshirt that looked to be about the right size. A little tin horse that Hazel noticed had caught Meg’s eye rounded off her purchases. She brought everything back to the counter for Mr. Blakely to ring up. While he took care of that, she smiled down at Meg. “Should we add a few lemon drops to our purchases?”
Meg’s eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.
Mr. Blakely reached into the display case and added the candy to the pile of items. “On the house,” he said with a smile. “As a welcome to Turnabout gift.”
Once they were done, Hazel paused a moment. “I was wondering, Mr. Blakely, if you’d mind if I borrowed one of your handcarts.”
The shop owner waved a hand. “Of course. You can bring it back in the morning if you like.”
Hazel loaded their purchases in the cart, then smiled at Meg. “Would you like to ride?”
A few minutes later Hazel was walking down the sidewalk pushing the cart with a giggling Meg riding inside.
When they arrived back at Hazel’s place, Hazel loaded up all the other things she’d gathered for Meg and added them to the cart as well.
Meg looked it over and frowned.
“What’s the matter,” Hazel asked. “Is there something I forgot?”
“What about Sheriff Gleason?” the little girl asked. “Shouldn’t we do something for him?”
That was unexpected. “What would you suggest?”
Meg was quiet for a minute, her face scrunched in thought. Then she smiled. “Maybe some flowers to make his home pretty.”
Hazel hid a grin as she pictured Ward’s reception to such a gift. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Come along, I have a rose bush in my backyard.”
Candy this afternoon. Flowers this evening. Yep, Meg was going to be very good for the stuffy sheriff.
Ward opened his door to see Meg and Hazel standing there. Meg had her doll under one arm and a small jar filled with flowers in her hands. The three of them were accompanied by an overflowing handcart and squarely perched atop the mound of goods was Pugs, his stubby tail wagging. It definitely appeared Meg was moving in.
Hazel waved to the cart. “Meg and I gathered up a few things we thought she might need while she’s staying here.”
Apparently he and Hazel had different concepts of how many items “a few” entailed.
“And I picked these for you.” Meg held out the flowers.
“Why, thank you.” Ward took the proudly offered bouquet, not quite certain what he should do with it. No one had ever given him flowers before.
From the corner of his eye he noticed Hazel eyeing him and Meg with a touch of amusement. So she found this funny, did she?
Hazel cleared her throat. “Meg’s already had her supper along with a nice warm bath.” She waved to the overflowing handcart. “Mr. Blakely said we could keep the cart overnight. So you can either return it yourself in the morning or leave it with me when you drop Meg off and we’ll return it.”
He set the jar of flowers on the bench that sat just inside the door and then stepped past her to roll the thing into the house. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Well then, I’ll bid the two of you good evening.” She stooped down to bring her face level with Meg’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Make sure you help Sheriff Gleason take care of Pugs.”
“Yes, ma’am. And don’t worry, me and Sheriff Gleason will be okay.”
Ward hoped she was right. Then he frowned at Pugs. “Wait a minute. You’re not leaving the dog here, too, are you?”
Hazel straightened. “Of course. He needs to get used to being with you since...” She glanced Meg’s way. “Since I already have a pet.”
He understood her reluctance to let Meg know she was leaving. No point in giving Half-pint something new to worry about. He still couldn’t quite accept the idea of Hazel’s imminent departure himself. In fact, he’d decided it was probably just another of her not-quite-thought-through schemes and that she’d give up on it eventually.
Still, there was a nagging voice inside him that said he was wrong.
“Don’t worry,” Meg said, giving him a reassuring look. “Pugs won’t be any trouble and I’ll help take care of him.”
Hazel straightened and, with a final wave, turned and left him alone with the little girl and the dog. He tamped down the cowardly urge to call her back.
What did he do now?
Shaking off his uncharacteristic uncertainty, Ward brought Meg the rest of the way into his house and watched as she took it all in. Which didn’t take long, given the small size of the place. This first-floor level was really just one large room—to the left was the kitchen and dining area and to the right was what passed for a parlor. There was also a small washroom just behind the kitchen.
A set of stairs led up from the parlor to the second floor, which was where his bedchamber was located, along with a small room that served as storage in lieu of an attic.
That was it. It had always been more than enough for him, especially since he didn’t entertain guests here. But right now it felt exceedingly small.
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.”