help overhearing what you said just now. These two children appear to be exhausted and the wind is picking up outside. I would be glad to keep them company while you see about the wagon.”
“You’re not here to catch the train?”
She shook her head with a smile, as if the thought was absurd. “No, I’m just waiting to see if any mail arrived for me.”
Hank sent up a silent prayer of thanks for this good news in an otherwise miserable day. He couldn’t have asked for a better caretaker for the kids. The schoolteacher would naturally be accustomed to dealing with uncooperative children. Of course, she probably hadn’t had to deal with anyone with Chloe’s particular problem before.
“I appreciate the offer, ma’am, and I’d certainly like to take you up on it.” He made sure he was turned so Chloe didn’t have a clear view of his face. “But there’s something you need to know before you take them on.”
“Oh?” Her green-flecked brown eyes studied him patiently.
“I’m sure you heard about their parents.” News of that sort normally spread fast in Turnabout.
Her expression softened. “I did. My condolences on the loss of your sister and brother-in-law.”
He nodded. “Well, the accident that killed the kids’ parents also damaged Chloe’s eardrums. She’s become totally deaf.”
Her reaction surprised him. There was a sudden flash of something in her expression that seemed more than sympathy or mere surprise.
Whatever it was, it seemed to be very personal.
* * *
Everything inside Janell stilled.
Deaf. Not again.
The terrible memories of that nightmarish time came tumbling back.
But this wasn’t about her. This little girl needed help—help she was uniquely qualified to give. How fortuitous that she’d wandered in this morning to check on the mail. But then, God’s timing was always perfect.
A moment later, Janell realized Mr. Chandler was studying her, concern digging furrows in his brow. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
She straightened and met his gaze, determination stiffening her spine. “As it happens, I actually have some experience dealing with the deaf.”
Surprise and relief flashed in his dark gray eyes before he resumed his businesslike expression. “Miss Whitman, if that’s true, then you are truly a godsend to us right now.”
He glanced at the children. “And I’ll take you up on your generous offer to watch them while I’m gone.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
He stared at the children for a moment, appearing to be at a loss for words. For just a moment she sensed a vulnerability in him that tugged at her.
Poor man. This was a difficult situation for anyone to be put in, much less a man who’d seemed happy with his bachelor status. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in ages—and she didn’t think it was just travel weariness. There was at least one day’s growth of beard on his chin, enhancing rather than detracting from its square ruggedness. And his dark brown hair was in need of a trim.
Not surprising—it just meant he cared. And she could empathize. When this had happened to her sister, her entire family had been impacted. How much worse must it be for someone who had to deal with the situation on his own? It did him credit that he’d stepped up to do what he could for the children. There was a lot to admire in a man who would do that.
Of more concern right now, however, were the children themselves. It was obvious they needed a mother’s touch. Like his uncle, the little boy’s straw-colored hair was also just a tad too long, and he kept tucking it back behind his ears as if it bothered him. And Chloe’s rebellious attitude, a natural reaction to what she’d been through, would only be healed through an abundance of patience and love.
Mr. Chandler straightened, rubbing his jaw. He tapped Chloe’s arm and waited until she met his gaze, then explained the situation to them. “Alex, Chloe, this is Miss Whitman. She’s one of the schoolteachers here in Turnabout. I’m going to go home to fetch a wagon, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Miss Whitman will be staying with you until then.”
She approved of the way he spoke slowly and enunciated each word. It showed he understood Chloe’s limitations and cared enough to try to get through to her. Not that the girl seemed able to read his lips just yet. But in time, she might be able to learn.
Janell gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry—we’ll be just fine.” Then she turned to the children. “Won’t we?”
Alex gave a tentative nod. Chloe merely ignored them.
But Janell refused to be put off by their lack of enthusiasm. She turned to Mr. Chandler, her smile still firmly in place. “There, we three are already friends. So you can go take care of this wagon business. I have nothing pressing to tend to today.” Then she looked around. “But perhaps we can find someplace more comfortable and interesting to wait.”
The sawmill owner gave her a questioning glance.
“I was thinking perhaps the children would be willing to take a short walk,” she explained. “Say, just as far as the Blue Bottle?”
His expression cleared as understanding dawned. “Now, that’s a very good idea.” He turned to the children. “Miss Whitman is offering to take you to the town’s sweet shop. What do you think—wait here or brave the wind for a couple of blocks to reach the Blue Bottle?”
Alex perked up. “You mean a candy store?”
Janell nodded. “And a very good one. You can find all sorts of tasty treats—chocolate drops, sugared pecans, pumpkin brittle, caramels and much more.”
“I like candy just fine.” Alex took his sister’s hand. “And Chloe does, too.”
Chloe looked up then, her eyes darting back and forth as if trying to make sense of their conversation.
Yes, this girl definitely needed her help. Janell straightened. “Well then, if you don’t mind taking a short walk—” she glanced toward Mr. Chandler “—and if your uncle doesn’t mind, why don’t we go see what the Blue Bottle sweet shop and tea parlor has to offer this morning?”
“I don’t mind at all,” Mr. Chandler assured her. Then he turned to the stationmaster. “Lionel, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave our bags here and get them when I come back for the trunks.”
While Mr. Chandler took care of business, Janell noticed Alex trying to help his sister understand what was going on, but Chloe merely looked confused and frustrated. The girl hefted the cat higher, resting her chin against his furry back.
Janell touched Chloe’s arm. When the girl met her gaze, she pointed to the cat. “What’s his name?” she asked.
Alex answered for her. “His name is Smudge.”
Janell thanked him. She knew he was trying to help his sister, but somehow she had to make the boy understand that he wasn’t truly helping her by always answering for her. Her own sister, Lizzie, had been that way as well, rarely speaking. And at first they’d compensated for her, answering for her so that she hadn’t had to figure out what had been said. But they’d eventually learned that was the wrong approach.
Chloe would need to learn to reengage with the people around her or she would turn into a sad, lonely hermit.
“Ready?”
Mr. Chandler’s question brought Janell back to the present. With a nod, she followed the children outside while Mr. Chandler politely held the door open.
As they stepped off the platform and onto the sidewalk, a gust of wind swooshed down on them. Janell quickly took off her shawl. “Here, you