CHAPTER
38

“I brought the signs and scrap wood you asked for,” Nate said, wiggling the arm that held all the materials against his body.

Zach nodded at the kid, but in truth his mind was too busy thinking about his wife to care about wood scraps. Tonight she’d be fully and completely his.

“If ya got a hammer and a few nails, I can board up the winder for ya before supper.” The kid shifted his weight, jiggling the boards. The soft clatter sharpened Zach’s attention enough to kick his brain back into motion.

“Nah. Just lean the boards up against the wall for now. I’ll tend to it later.”

Nate moved to obey, revealing the little girl who’d been hiding behind him. She followed her brother, sticking to his side like sawdust to sweat.

“I don’t wanna go in,” she whispered, probably thinking the four feet of distance between her and the man in the doorway was enough to keep him from overhearing.

It wasn’t.

“They’re good people,” Nate reassured her, taking his time stacking the wood in order to cover the awkward conversation. He tossed a quick glance Zach’s way, but Zach made a show of examining the dirt under his fingernails, giving the kids at least the illusion of privacy.

“Can’t you smell that?” Nate asked. “Smells like fried ham. I bet they got taters too. Maybe even some more of them biscuits. You liked those.”

The girl looked about ten or eleven and mule-stubborn. She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I ain’t gonna do it, Nate. I ain’t going in.”

The boy sighed and gave up all pretense of stacking wood. He hunkered down to face his sister. “Mr. Hamilton offered me work, Ida Mae. Here at the shop. Real regular-like. We’d have pay we can count on. I can’t afford to pass that up, and neither can you. So put on the manners Mama taught you and come to dinner. I’ll make sure nuthin’ bad happens to ya.”

The girl didn’t look too convinced, but she trudged along with her brother without fuss when he steered her back to the door.

Nate’s gaze offered an apology when he returned to Zach. “This is Ida Mae.” He turned to check on her, probably wanting to make sure she was using her company manners. His posture sagged a bit around the shoulders when he found her staring at her toes. “She’s shy.”

“That’s all right. She don’t have to talk.” Zach winked at Nate and offered a friendly grin. “She just has to eat.”

The kid smiled back, and the awkwardness faded. At least between the males. The little girl with the lopsided brown pigtails and threadbare blue calico dress refused to look up from her scuffed black shoes even once they moved inside. She kept her hackles up when Rosalind stepped forward to introduce herself, but she acted downright skittish when Abigail approached, dashing behind her brother as if afraid Abby were the witch from “Hansel and Gretel,” ready to toss her into the oven. She kept darting nervous glances at the large useless bread oven on the back wall too.

Zach led the way to the sink and washed up for supper, leaving the tap running for Nate and Ida Mae. When Abigail went upstairs to receive the dumbwaiter, the little girl relaxed enough to watch Rosalind work the hand rope, seemingly fascinated by the box that disappeared into the wall. But once upstairs and seated at the table, she was back to trying to hide in plain sight, this time by staring at her plate with such intensity that she nearly missed grabbing the bread basket when it was passed to her.

“I can’t believe someone set off firecrackers in your oven,” Nate said between bites of potatoes after Zach gave a brief explanation of what had happened. “That’s just downright mean.”

“Needless to say,” Zach continued, “my wife is going to have her hands full trying to make do with the small oven until we can replace the large one. So you may be asked to do all manner of strange jobs—from cleaning windows, to sweeping the boardwalk, to washing dishes. I know it ain’t exactly the work a young man dreams about, but I’ll pay you fifty cents a day for an afternoon’s labor, and my wife said she’d feed both you and your sister at the beginning and end of your shift.”

Nate’s forkful of ham ceased its sprint to his mouth. “Pay and meals?” His brown eyes widened, and for a moment Zach worried they might tear up. But the kid was tough. He choked down his emotion like a spoonful of castor oil and carried on as if the offer hadn’t been life-changing. “Sounds . . . fair.”

Zach hid a grin behind his napkin as he pretended to wipe crumbs from his chin. It was more than fair, and they both knew it. If Zach had been able to secure regular work at that wage at Nate’s age, he might have avoided the poker tables altogether.

Abigail caught Zach’s eye from across the table and smiled, the warmth in her gaze proving she knew exactly what he was doing. He couldn’t quite figure why her approval mattered so much to him, but his heart felt twice as full as it had a moment ago when he’d been focused solely on the boy at his left.

“Once school starts back up,” Abigail said, aiming her words at Nate, “you can stop by the bakery before class and help set up shop. You’ll be fully trained by then and will know what needs to be done. I’ll have box lunches fixed up for you and Ida Mae to take with you. Then you can finish up your shift once school lets out. Education is a valuable resource, and I prefer my employees make good use of it.”

There she went, being more than he expected again. He shouldn’t be surprised. He knew Abby’s heart, yet he’d experienced so little generosity while he was growing up that witnessing it in such abundance now took him aback. She’d lost her oven, might still lose her bakery, yet she was ready to provide for a pair of kids she’d just met. How could he not love such a woman?

Wait . . . love? Had that word actually traipsed across his brain?

“Why are you doing this?” Ida Mae’s accusing tone cut across the table like a cleaver, effectively slicing off Zach’s other thoughts. “What’s in it for you?”

The girl still had her chin tucked into her chest, but her eyes glared up at Abby, who sat diagonally across from her.

“Ida Mae!” her brother whispered sharply. “What’s wrong with you?” Nate shot an apologetic look at Zach. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this.”

“It’s all right,” Abigail said. “It’s smart for a young woman to be cautious and ask questions. There are too many people in this world willing to take advantage of someone they deem weaker than themselves. I admire her courage in speaking up.” She turned her attention from Nate to his sister. “Without my large oven, baking is going to take much longer than usual, and I really need help. Your brother has proven to be dependable and hard-working. God made our paths cross at just the right time.” She smiled, but the little girl only scowled harder. “And since I happen to have a little sister of my own,” she said with a dip of her head toward Rosalind, “I know how much older siblings worry about the younger ones in their care. So I figure if I feed you both, Nate will have less to worry about and can focus more on his work. Besides,” she said with a teasing wink, “like I told my husband earlier, I can’t have a Taste of Heaven employee who isn’t properly nourished. It would be poor advertising.”

“Properly attired too,” Rosalind added. “If you’ll both bring your spare clothes in on Monday, I’ll let the hems out for you. Maybe even cut down a few of my old dresses for you, Ida Mae.”

The little girl shot up from the table. “I don’t want any of your old dresses! Or your dumb food, neither.” She glared at Abigail.

Zach slowly stretched to his feet. He sympathized with the kid’s plight, understood hiding fear beneath anger, but no one insulted his wife. Not even a little girl with a heart full of hurt and a tongue full of spite. “That’s enough.” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to frighten her further.

Abigail rose too, but her expression confused him. It didn’t reflect hurt or insult or even patience. She looked ill. Shaken. Yet before he could ask her what was wrong, she seemed to find her footing. Her eyes never left Ida Mae’s as she slowly rounded the table.

Now it was the girl’s turn to look shaken. She backed away from Abby, circling her brother’s chair and using him as a barrier. For a moment Zach thought the girl would duck under the table, but Abby did the ducking first. She bent down, her expression soft yet intense.

“I forgive you, Ida Mae.”

Zach frowned. For what? Acting like a brat? This scene seemed too intense for such a small infraction. He glanced at Nate, but the kid looked as confused as Zach felt.

Ida Mae, however, seemed to understand completely. She vigorously shook her head.

“Nate can still work here,” Abigail said. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t hold it against him. I won’t hold it against you either.”

The little girl started sobbing. Her brother’s arm came around her shoulders. “I didn’t want to do it, Nate. I swear!”

Nate’s face scrunched. “What did you do?”

But Ida Mae was beyond talking, so Zach and Nate turned their attention to the only other person in the room who seemed to know what was going on.

Abigail straightened. Her gaze found Zach’s, and he swore he could feel the heaviness of her heart tug on his own.

“Ida Mae set off the firecrackers.”