it as she could. And it gave her something to focus on other than the distracting man walking beside her.
The rumbling from Leo’s stomach was getting more insistent.
Chance smiled down at the boy. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there in just a few minutes. I’m getting hungry myself.” Then he glanced her way. “You’re going to like the food at Daisy’s. She’s one of the finest cooks around here.”
Eve raised a brow at that. “That’s quite a claim.”
His brow arched. “You doubt me? I assure you, it’s the absolute truth. Daisy’s had the restaurant open for only a few months and already she has quite a contingent of regulars.”
This kind of teasing banter was new to her and it flustered her a bit—but in a not unpleasant way. “Well, after such glowing praise, I am definitely looking forward to trying it out for myself.”
He rewarded her with an appreciative grin. “You won’t be disappointed.” He waved to a two-story building they were approaching. “This is where our local newspaper, the Turnabout Gazette, gets printed. Daisy’s husband, Everett, runs the place.”
“How exciting to have such easy access to a newspaper.”
“I don’t know about exciting,” he said dryly, “but it is handy. Everett prints the paper twice weekly and, don’t tell him I said so, but he does a good job of mixing local and national news.”
Then he nodded to the adjoining building. “Daisy’s Restaurant is right next door.” A moment later, he gave a flourishing wave. “And here we are.”
Eve eyed the sign hanging above the door and smiled in delight. “Oh, how clever. And how welcoming.” The Daisy’s Restaurant sign was painted in colorful, cheery letters and the i had been dotted with a drawing of a daisy. This already felt like a friendly place.
Chance grinned. “Daisy painted that herself, and it really speaks to who she is.”
When they stepped inside, he waved to the woman behind the counter. “Hello, Daisy. I’ve brought a couple of newcomers in to sample your cooking.” He gave her a cheeky smile. “And I’ll give you fair warning that I’ve been bragging on you, so you need to treat them to your best.”
The woman lifted her chin and placed a hand on her hip. “Chance Dawson, you know good and well I give all my customers my best.” While the words were said in a chiding tone, her smile indicated she hadn’t really taken offense.
As she bustled out from behind the counter it became apparent that she was with child. And that she wasn’t letting it slow her down.
Daisy turned to Eve and Leo. “Hello. I’m always glad to see new faces in here. I’m Daisy Fulton and I’m right pleased to welcome you to Turnabout and to my restaurant.”
“Thank you. I’m Eve Pickering.” Eve placed and hand on Leo’s shoulder. “And this is Leo.”
Daisy smiled down at the boy. “Pleased to meet you, too, Leo.” Then she turned back to Eve. “Are you folks friends of Chance’s?” She cast Mr. Dawson a teasing look. “He’s always been a mite closemouthed about his life before he moved here.”
Eve wasn’t quite certain how to respond to that, but fortunately Mr. Dawson spoke up first.
“These two are recent acquaintances,” he said. Then he assumed a haughty expression. “And as for my past, I like being a man of mystery.”
Daisy rolled her eyes and cast a can-you-believe-him look Eve’s way. “Some mystery.” She turned back to Chance. “Chance Dawson, you are the least mysterious man I know.”
Eve didn’t bother to hide her grin. She was getting her first taste of what it felt like to be among folks who didn’t know her history and she liked it. Very much.
Then Daisy waved them to the only unoccupied table. “I shouldn’t be chattering on like this when y’all came in here to eat. Just have a seat. The menu is posted on the board above the counter. Study it and then give me a wave when you’re ready to order.”
They moved to the table she’d indicated and Eve was startled when Chance held her chair for her. She wasn’t used to such deference. As they took their seats, she studied the room with interest. The walls were painted the color of daffodils and the windows were flanked by cheery floral curtains hemmed with ruffles, tied back to let in the sunlight. Grandmother would disapprove of such frivolity, but Eve decided she liked it.
There were seven other tables in the place, and the occupants seemed to be enjoying their meals, lending weight to Mr. Dawson’s earlier claims. She noticed the patrons were also trying to study her and Leo without being too obvious. But their curiosity seemed friendly enough and she found herself on the receiving end of more than one neighborly smile.
What really snagged and held Eve’s attention, however, was the far wall, where three tall, sturdy bookcases stood behind a small table that obviously served as someone’s desk. Both bookcases were crammed full of volumes of various sizes and colors. Such a wealth of reading material—it was all Eve could do not to cross over to read the titles.
Forcing herself to look away from the books, Eve turned back to read the menu, but not before she caught Mr. Dawson staring at her. He actually had the audacity to smile and lean back in his chair, continuing to study her.
She decided to ignore him and instead focus on the chalkboard. Unfortunately she remained uncomfortably aware of his gaze. As she read the menu, she studied the prices more than the food choices. She had to be careful with her funds—the pittance she had wouldn’t last long.
“If you’re having trouble deciding,” Mr. Dawson said a moment later, “I’d recommend the rabbit stew. It’s Daisy’s Tuesday special and always delicious.” His tone held no hint that he’d recognized her earlier discomfort.
Leo nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds good.”
Mr. Dawson turned to her. “Shall I make that three orders?”
Eve studied the price and hesitated. Then she nodded. “Very well.” A nice filling stew would hold her for the remainder of the day. And she did need to keep her strength up for the uncertainty ahead.
Mr. Dawson raised a hand to let Daisy know they were ready, and placed their order. Then he returned his attention to Eve. “I saw you studying Abigail’s library a moment ago. I take it you enjoy reading.”
Eve nodded, allowing a small smile to escape. “Very much.” It was one of her guilty pleasures—one she hadn’t had much opportunity to indulge in since she’d graduated from school.
“Perhaps you can get a closer look at the books once we’ve completed our meal and pick out something to read while you’re in town.”
“You mean they just let folks take them?” Did they value books so little here?
He shrugged. “It’s a circulating library, which means the books are available to all subscribers. But Abigail always lets you have the first one free.”
It was tempting, but she wouldn’t really be here in town very long. And she didn’t need to be beholden to yet another stranger. Rather than going into that with him, though, she settled for making a noncommittal sound.
Apparently taking that as agreement, he changed the subject. “I believe you said you were headed to Tyler to find employment as a milliner’s apprentice?”
“That’s correct.” Had Mrs. O’Connell received her telegram yet? What was she thinking about her truant would-be apprentice?
“Is becoming a milliner something you have a burning desire to do, if you don’t mind my asking?”
What would he do if she said she did mind his asking? “A friend of my grandmother’s runs a millinery shop in Tyler. Apparently she gets an increase in orders in the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas so she agreed to hire me