Janell arrived at the Chandler home bright and early Saturday morning. As soon as breakfast was over she turned to the children. “The three of us are going on a little shopping trip.”
“What are we shopping for?” Alex asked.
“I’ll tell you when we get there.”
“What about Uncle Hank?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Hank carried his dishes to the counter. “There are a few things I need to take care of around here.”
Was he glad of the opportunity to have the house to himself for a while? She imagined that hadn’t happened since he’d returned to town. It must be a big change for a man who’d lived alone for at least as long as she’d lived in Turnabout.
Alex spent most of the walk to the mercantile trying to pry from her what they were shopping for. Even Chloe seemed intrigued. When they arrived, it was to discover Mr. Blakely had decorated his shop window with a toy train, complete with tracks and landscaping. It took nearly five minutes to pry Alex away and lead him to the back of the store.
When she stopped at the fabric section, Alex’s face fell. She noticed Chloe, however, was fingering the fabric longingly.
What girl her age didn’t like pretty things? And while the clothing Chloe had was no doubt adequate, it looked as though it had been handed down.
Perhaps she would also get a length of dress fabric while they were here.
“What are we doing here?” There was a definite pout in Alex’s voice.
“We’re going to spruce up your rooms and give you a chance to fix them up however you like.” She waved toward the bolts of fabric. “And we’re going to start with curtains. You can pick out whatever fabric you like.” She turned to Chloe and carefully signed out bedroom curtains.
Alex gave her a speculative look. “Start with—does that mean there’s more?”
She smiled. “It does. But that’s going to be a surprise.”
Satisfied, Alex turned his attention to the fabric and quickly picked out a dark blue with thin yellow stripes. Chloe took a little more time and eventually picked out a pale green fabric dusted with tiny pink flowers. Janell took note of the other fabrics the girl lingered over. She would be back later to select a pretty piece for a dress.
Later, when they returned home, they found Hank in the parlor, a pleased-with-himself smile on his face. He took a moment to admire the kids’ choices in fabric, but she could tell there was something else on his mind.
He finally cleared his throat. “Come on into the kitchen for a moment—there’s something I want to show you.”
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, he waved toward the table. “I went up in the attic while y’all were gone. I dug through a couple of old trunks my ma—your grandmother—had stored up there and found a few things I thought you might want for your rooms.”
Displayed on the table, Janell saw a set of tin soldiers, a wooden horse that was obviously homemade, an old rag doll that had seen better days and a small doll-sized cradle.
Both children drew close to the table but neither touched the items.
Hank rubbed the back of his neck, as if uncertain what to do next. “These things belonged to me and my sister—your mother—when we were kids growing up here.”
“You mean this is where Ma grew up?” Alex stared at his uncle with wide eyes.
“It is. In fact, she slept in that same bed Chloe’s sleeping in now.”
“What about my room?”
“That one was mine. I moved into the one that used to belong to my parents when I took over the house.”
Hank picked up the wooden horse. “My pa, your grandfather, made this for me when I was about five years old. Carved it with his own two hands. I named him Captain and he went everywhere with me for a long time.”
Alex’s eyes got big. “Can I hold him?”
Hank handed it to him. “If you promise to take real good care of him, you can keep him.”
“Yes, sir!”
He turned to Chloe and picked up the slate. This is Penny he wrote, then pointed to the doll. It was your ma’s when she was a little girl.
Chloe picked up the doll, then looked up at him with questioning, hopeful eyes.
Hank erased the slate, then wrote again. She’s yours if you want her.
Chloe nodded vigorously and hugged the doll tightly.
Hank cleared his throat. Was that a touch of tenderness Janell saw in his expression?
He touched the cradle and wrote This is Penny’s bed. Your grandfather made it for your mother.
Then he turned back to Alex. “These tin soldiers were a long-ago Christmas present to me. You’re welcome to them as well.”
Janell crossed the kitchen and reached for the apron she now kept on a peg by the door. Those three people who had become so dear to her were definitely beginning to draw closer as a family. It was both heartwarming and bittersweet to see. Because more than ever, it made her long to be a part of it, something that could never be.
“Why don’t you take your things to your rooms,” she told the children, working to keep her voice cheerful. “I’m going to get lunch started and then get to work on these curtains.”
Janell grabbed some carrots and potatoes and pulled out the chopping board and a knife. By the time she had everything gathered, the children were gone, but Hank remained.
She glanced up at him, then back down at the chopping board. “The children will treasure those toys for a long time to come.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t even aware that my mother had saved those things until I went digging around in the attic.”
He seemed uncomfortable with the subject. Perhaps a change of subject was in order. “I’ve been thinking about the problem of how to enter Chloe’s room since she won’t hear a knock.”
“And you’ve come up with an answer?”
She nodded, ignoring the touch of dry humor in his voice. “A privacy screen.”
“Privacy screen?”
“Yes. You know, a tall, three-paneled—”
He waved impatiently. “I know what a privacy screen is. What I don’t know is how that solves the problem.”
“When Chloe needs privacy—such as when she’s changing clothes—she can make certain she’s behind the screen. That way, when you or Alex enter her room, you won’t inadvertently embarrass her or yourselves.”
“I see. Yes, that could work. At least it’s something to try.”
“If you want to order one, I know the furniture catalog at Blakely’s mercantile has them. And there’s one in my room at the boardinghouse. You can borrow it until—”
“That’s not necessary. It would be simple to make. In fact, I’m sure I have everything I’ll need down at the sawmill. I could take care of it today.”
She looked up in surprise. “That quickly?”
“It won’t be anything fancy, but like I said, it’s a simple construction if you already have the materials.”
“Perhaps Alex would like to go with you.”
He frowned at that. “I don’t know. It could be dangerous for him to be around all that equipment.”
“Not if you keep a close eye on him. And I’m sure he’d like to spend time with you. I’ll fix a cold lunch for the two of you to take with you—this soup will taste better for supper anyway. And while you two are gone, I’ll teach Chloe how to make curtains.”
He still seemed hesitant, but she was confident. This was going to be a very good day, especially for Hank and Alex.
Later, once the male members of the household were gone and the kitchen had been cleaned up, Janell picked up the slate and started writing. Do you know how to sew?
Chloe frowned uncertainly. “Mother taught me to embroider.”
Not a direct answer but it would do. She erased the slate and picked up the chalk again. Then you should be able to sew something as simple as curtains.
Janell ignored Chloe’s skeptical expression. Her next written message was on a different topic. While we’re sewing the curtains, we’ll also work on your communication skills.
This time the girl shot her a suspicious look.
Janell nodded firmly. No more slate. While we work, I will sign, and you will speak.
Chloe bit her lower lip, then nodded.
Janell signed Good.
As they got to work, she wondered how Hank and Alex were faring.
* * *
Hank helped Alex down from the wagon and the little boy looked around with wide eyes. “This whole place belongs to you?”
“It does.”
“Just like the dry goods store belonged to my pa.”
Hank felt a tightening in his chest when he realized where the boy’s thoughts had drifted to. “Yep, just like that.”
Alex kicked at a rock, keeping his head down. “Pa always said the store would be mine someday.”
Hank studied his nephew helplessly, not sure what to say that would ease his hurt. “Your father was a very good man,” he said softly. “And he was always very proud of you.”
Alex looked up at him without turning. “How do you know that? You weren’t there.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He regretted now that he hadn’t taken time to visit his sister when he’d had the opportunity. “But your ma was my sister and she wrote me letters. She always told me about the family and how proud both she and your pa were.”
“She did?”
“Of course. She told me about the time you won your school’s frog jumping contest, and about the time you and your pa caught that huge fish together, and how you were able to count to one hundred before anyone else in your first-grade class.”
That seemed to make Alex feel better. The slump left his shoulders and he seemed ready to focus. “Do you know how to run all of this equipment?”
“I do. But of course, I don’t run the place all by myself. I have one man who works full-time with me and another who comes in when I have an extra heavy workload.”
“But you’re the boss.”
“That I am.”
“Can I see the big saw cut something?”
“As a matter of fact, I’ll be cutting some boards to make that screen for Chloe’s room. If you promise to be real careful, and do exactly as I say, I may just let you help.”
“Yes, sir!”
Hank took his time making the privacy screen, patiently teaching Alex how to use a hammer, sandpaper and paintbrush. The boy was eager to learn and turned out to have a natural talent. The screen they’d constructed was rather plain but well made. He’d deliberately kept it free of decoration because he had something else in mind.
He thought perhaps he’d purchase some paints and see if Chloe would like to decorate it herself.
At the last minute he decided to work on a second project. Together he and Alex constructed a wooden box, complete with hinges and a latch, to hold Alex’s tin soldiers.
Alex was as proud of the finished product as if it had been covered in jewels.
All in all, Hank was pleased with how the day had turned out.
It was nearly four o’clock by the time Hank loaded the newly constructed privacy screen on the wagon and helped Alex climb in. He cast a worried look up at the sky. It had become overcast—they might be in for some rain tonight. He’d need to make sure he got Janell home early this evening.
When they arrived home, Hank let Alex help him unhitch the wagon and tend to the horse. The boy chattered nonstop about the sawmill and the work they’d done there.
They carried the screen in through the kitchen door and Hank gave a satisfied smile as he inhaled the savory scent of a stew simmering on the stove.
They had just stepped into the hall when Hank heard a clatter and a yelp, closely followed by a cry from Chloe. He quickly set the screen down and sprinted for Alex’s room, where the sound had come from.
He rushed into the room and halted abruptly on the threshold. Janell sat on the bed trying to calm an upset Chloe.
“What happened here? Are you two okay?”
Janell glanced up with a self-recriminating grimace. “We’re fine.”
Chloe also turned and he could read the fright in her expression. “Miss Whitman fell off the chair and hurt her foot.”
He crossed to where Janell sat and looked down at her. “How bad is it?”
Why hadn’t the fool woman waited until he got home so he could have helped her hang the curtains?
Because she was Janell I-can-do-anything Whitman, that was why.
If he didn’t care for her so much, he’d seriously consider sitting her down and giving her a stern lecture on being aware of her own limitations.
And he might do it still.
Just as soon as he made certain she was all right.