After supper, Miss Whitman, true to form, insisted on helping his aunt clean the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day,” she said when the woman protested. “This will go faster if we tackle it together.”
Hank pitched in to help as well, and in no time the task was done.
As soon as the last dish was put away, Miss Whitman retrieved her shawl from the peg by the door.
“If it’s okay with Mrs. Collins, I’ll come by tomorrow as we’d planned, to work with the children some more. I’ll return to the classroom on Wednesday and perhaps Alex will be ready to join my class by then.”
“I’ll be pleased to have your company,” Mrs. Collins said.
Hank insisted on escorting her, and since his aunt was there to watch the children, she didn’t protest.
As they stepped outside, Hank saw the schoolteacher give a tiny shiver, then draw her shawl tighter around her. Dusk had settled in and it was now much cooler than it had been when the sun was high. Without giving it much thought, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
She looked up with wide eyes and a startled expression. “Mr. Chandler, that’s very gentlemanly of you but quite unnecessary. I have my shawl and surely you need your jacket.”
Why did she have to argue about everything? “You were cold, weren’t you?”
Her brow furrowed. “Well, yes, but not unbearably so. And we don’t have far—”
He’d heard enough. “Then keep it on. I’ll get it back from you when we reach the boardinghouse.”
“I...” She paused and looked at him uncertainly. Then she drew the jacket more closely around her. “Well...thank you.”
That was better. “You’re welcome.”
They were silent for a few moments. Then she spoke up. “I’m sorry things are so uncomfortable for your aunt.”
“She’s willing to try to stick it out but I can’t do that to her. I need to send her home by the end of the week, if not sooner.”
“You do know it’s going to be nearly impossible to find you a wife before she leaves, don’t you?”
“I know it’s going to be tricky, but surely it’s not altogether impossible.” Trouble was, he couldn’t drum up enthusiasm for another bride when he was in the schoolteacher’s company.
“True, but highly improbable. I believe you need to start thinking about a contingency plan.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Oh, come now. There are a number of things you can do. Hire someone to cook and watch the children, for one.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps for a week or so, but only as a last resort.”
She gave him a curious look but, to his surprise, didn’t ask him to elaborate. Which, he supposed, was why he did. “Finding extra money is a bit of a problem at the moment.”
* * *
Janell was surprised by his admission. She hadn’t believed him to be a wealthy man, but she hadn’t figured him for a man of tight means, either.
Was his sawmill in trouble?
Or did this have something to do with settling his sister and brother-in-law’s affairs?
She thought about offering him some money, but men could be quite touchy when it came to financial matters. So instead she changed the subject. “I see the mayor is doing his part to decorate the whole town this year.” All of the lampposts in town were sporting jaunty red bows and sprigs of holly.
Hank looked around and grimaced. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
She grinned. “You weren’t at the Thanksgiving festival this year, so you probably haven’t heard. The mayor thinks we should show more Christmas spirit. So he’s offered up a calf from his prize bull to the shopkeeper who does the best job of decorating his storefront for Christmas.” She cast him a sideways look. “So will you be decorating the mill?”
Mr. Chandler just rolled his eyes.
They’d reached the boardinghouse by then and Mr. Chandler escorted her right up to the front door. It was rather nice to have a gentleman pay such particular attention to her. Perhaps it wouldn’t be difficult to find a lady willing to marry this man—despite his rough exterior, he could be quite an agreeable companion.
“Thank you for escorting me home, Mr. Chandler.”
“It’s the least I can do to repay you for all of your help these last few days.”
“Miss Bruder is set to take my class again tomorrow, so I’ll visit with Betty June first thing.”
“I’d wish you luck but that sounds rather self-serving.”
At least he still had his sense of humor.
“But I don’t want to take advantage of your generous nature. Aunt Rowena can take care of things while she’s here.”
“Your aunt is here to help you keep your house running smoothly and to be around at night if you should need her. But she can’t teach the children sign language. And with the effect Smudge’s presence has on her, she may not be able to stay until Friday.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “Very well, but I insist that after tomorrow you don’t take any more days off to help us.”
She nodded. “If things go well tomorrow, I’ll return to my job on Wednesday. I suggest Alex start attending class then as well.”
“But not Chloe?”
“To be honest, I think it will actually do them both good to be separated for a day or two.”
“I agree, if Alex doesn’t spend all his time worrying about Chloe.”
“I’ll do my best to see that he doesn’t.”
“How do you think Chloe and Aunt Rowena will handle being alone together?”
Janell was flattered that he seemed to want her opinion. “Your aunt seems like a strong woman who genuinely cares for people. It may get a bit uncomfortable at first, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She fingered the jacket’s collar. “But we can talk about it after we see how tomorrow goes.”
“I agree.” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, looking pensive.
She slipped his jacket from her shoulders and handed it to him. “Thank you for loaning me this yet again.”
“You’re welcome.” He shrugged back into it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with a touch to the brim of his hat, he quickly descended the porch steps.
Janell watched him walk away. His bearing was so confident, his stride so assertive. This was a man who knew what he wanted out of life and wasn’t afraid to go after it. Except when it came to the children.
As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, Janell found herself missing the feel of his jacket on her shoulders. It had enveloped her so nicely in its warmth, surrounded her with a scent that was so masculine and wholly him.
Strange that the thought of him marrying another woman left her feeling vaguely bereft. It was only because she’d grown so fond of the children, she told herself. She’d miss her daily visits with them once they were in another woman’s care. She’d see them at school, of course, but that wasn’t quite the same.
Being in their home, cooking their meals, sitting down to dine with them—it had felt almost as if she had a family of her own.
She’d forgotten just how wonderful and fulfilling that felt.
Janell shook off those melancholy thoughts as she stepped into her set of rooms. She had a good life here. She loved her work and her students, and she’d been welcomed into the homes of many of their families on numerous occasions.
She was truly blessed in the life she’d built here.
Wishing for more, such as a family and home of her own, was just plain selfish.
But oh, how her rebellious heart yearned for more...
* * *
Hank pulled up his collar against the cold as he headed home. He’d almost proposed to her again. Not only would marrying her solve all of his problems, but he was also beginning to like having her around.
Not that he’d formed any kind of romantic attachment to her—no indeed, he was long past that kind of foolish nonsense. It was just that he’d got used to her and it would take an effort to get used to someone else.
But he’d known in his gut that if he’d asked, her answer would be the same as before. She just wasn’t interested.
So it seemed he’d have to go through the tedious process of finding another suitable woman to wed. To say he was dreading the search was an understatement. But at least he wasn’t going through it alone. Having Miss Whitman do the interviewing and offering her opinion on potential candidates, something she seemed uniquely qualified to do, would free him up to focus on everything else clamoring for his attention.
And giving Miss Whitman reason to keep coming around was something to look forward to.
For the children’s sake, of course.
* * *
Hank looked up from his work at the sawmill as Gus started barking. That was his we’ve-got-company bark. Was it a customer?
He headed for the entrance, then paused as he caught sight of the visitor. Janell Whitman stood calmly in the yard, eyeing Gus with a cautious but unafraid stare. She was speaking too softly for him to make out the words. And Gus, while still alert, was not braced for any sort of attack.
“That’s enough, Gus.”
The dog immediately stopped barking and began wagging his tail.
“Hello.” Miss Whitman gave him a sunny smile.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming here,” she said.
“Not at all. I’m just surprised. Did you walk all the way here?”
“It’s not all that far and the weather is nice.”
He considered two miles a fair distance, especially for a woman in skirts. He helped her up onto the elevated floor of the mill. As soon as she was settled, she looked around. “It’s my first visit to a sawmill. Would you mind showing me around before we talk?”
“Not at all. We do more than saw trees into lumber here.” He waved a hand toward the right. “Simon is working with our shingle machine. The shingles we make get shipped to cities all over this part of the country and even points east.” He started walking again. “And this time of year we also do a brisk business cutting and selling firewood.” He also donated quite a bit of that firewood to the church and the school.
The complete tour took less than thirty minutes and then he escorted her into his office—a small room just big enough for a small desk and two chairs.
He dusted off the seat of the guest chair with a rag. “Sorry, in a place like this, sawdust gets on everything.” Straightening, he waved her into the chair then moved around the desk to take the other seat. “So what can I do for you?”
“I paid a visit to Betty June this morning.”
Hank had almost forgotten about their matchmaking deal. And at the moment he wasn’t certain whether he wanted her to say Betty June was the right woman for him or not.
“I was quite impressed with her,” Miss Whitman stated. “Betty June would indeed make a good mother for the children.” She gave him an apologetic look. “But I’m afraid she won’t be interested in the position.”
It figured. “Why not?”
“Betty June wants to become a journalist. She has a cousin who lives in Tyler and this cousin has connections with the local newspaper. Betty June plans to move there as soon as she’s saved enough money to pay her way.”
“I see.”
“However, since she’s trying to earn money for this venture, she might be open to you hiring her as housekeeper for a time, just until you can find a wife.”
“We’ll see.” His funds couldn’t stretch for any long-term commitment, but perhaps he could make it work short-term.
“So, have you been thinking of any other names to add to that list of yours?”
“I suppose I’ll have to start a new list.” He glanced her way. “Any suggestions?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded.
“You’ve thought of someone?”
“Not exactly. But I was thinking that we might apply an organized, systematic approach. Since one of the criteria we discussed was that she be a God-fearing woman, we could look to the women who attend church regularly.”
“All right. But that’s still a large group to sort through.”
“Most everyone sits in the very same place from week to week. Just mentally picture the people sitting there on Sunday morning, starting in the front and moving back. Then start picking out the single ladies. I suppose we should start with the choir. Eliminating the single women who are either too old or too young.”
“Well, there’s Hazel Andrews. She seems a bit too flighty for my taste, but she appears to have a good heart.”
“Hazel does have an exuberant approach to life. But she can be quite sensible and down-to-earth when called for. You are also correct in that she does have a good heart. In fact, she would make an excellent mother to Alex and Chloe. But I’m afraid she has her heart set on someone else.”
Just about everyone in town knew the dressmaker had her sights set on Ward Gleason—everyone but Ward himself, it seemed.
Hank frowned. “I’d think she’d given up on that by now.”
Miss Whitman shook her head. “When Hazel sets her mind on something, it takes a lot to dissuade her.”
He tried imagining the choir again. “There’s Abigail Fulton, but she’s too young.”
“I agree. You don’t want to offer this sort of businesslike arrangement to a young lady who’s still looking for romance.”
He frowned. “The only other unmarried lady in the choir, besides you, is Addis Floyd, and she’s my mother’s age, so I think we can rule her out.”
She nodded. “Then let’s move on to those who sit in the pews. Let’s start with the left side of the aisle, going front to back.”
He tried to picture the church on Sunday morning. “There’s the Hymel family—no marriage candidates there. Behind them are the Daley and the Sanders families—again no candidates.” Then he sat up straighter. “But Emily Johansen is in the next pew. I hadn’t considered her before, but now that I think on it, she might be a possibility.”
His would-be matchmaker nodded slowly. “She seems to have the right temperament for taking care of children, and since her husband has been gone for almost fifteen months now, she may be receptive to your offer. But keep in mind that she has two young children of her own. Are you certain you’re ready to add more children to your household right now?”
He grimaced at that thought. It wasn’t that he disliked children so much as that he wasn’t sure he was ready to be a father to four kids. “Why don’t we keep going and see who else might fit the bill.”
“Very well. The Barrs are in the next pew and the Parkers and Dawsons are behind them—no single ladies of an appropriate age in any of those groups.”
“But behind them is Hortense Lawrence.” He nodded as he mentally dredged up all he knew of her. “She’s about my age, seems to have a good head on her shoulders and she’s single.” He paused and cut a look Miss Whitman’s way. “No one’s courting her, are they?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Something about the way she said that caught his attention. “Do I detect a note of hesitation in your voice?”
Miss Whitman pursed her lips as if trying to hold back her words. What wasn’t she saying?
“We’ll keep her name on the list, and if she makes it to the top, then you can make up your own mind.”
He crossed his arms. “That’s not how this works. Remember, your function is to share your thoughts and advise me on the candidate’s suitability to be a mother to the kids.”
“Of course I’ll share my thoughts with you. But I don’t like to spread gossip. For the sake of our agreement, let’s just say she wouldn’t be my first pick.”
“Then let’s scratch her name from the list.”
“Just keep in mind, in the end it’s you who’ll have to marry the woman you choose. I would caution you to take the time to make an evaluation of your own.”
“But I don’t have the luxury of time.”
“I understand. Believe me. But you’ll be making a lifetime commitment, and regardless of how pressed you feel, you need to really think before you make any sort of proposal.” Her voice nearly vibrated with the force of her passion. “And you don’t have to decide today or even this week.”
She really didn’t understand. “I know I can cut back on some of my hours at the mill. But that’s my livelihood. If I don’t work, I don’t have money coming in to keep food on the table.”
“I have a suggestion for something that will work until you find a wife, assuming you do find her by Christmas.”
Finally! “I’m listening.”
“It’s a little unorthodox.”
“At this point, I’m willing to listen to any ideas.”
“Well then, first off, since your aunt is leaving Friday, I think that will be a good day for Chloe to start attending school again.”
“You think she’ll be ready?”
“Perhaps not fully. But she can come in and read on her own and begin to get used to being around the other children again.”
He raised a brow at that. “So you’re just going to play nursemaid to her?”
“It’s more than that. It’s a way to ease her back into the classroom. And since I hope to give sign-language lessons to the other children, she can definitely participate in that activity.”
He nodded. “If you think she’ll be okay, then yes, that’ll be a big help. I can walk them to school in the morning and leave work early to meet them after school.”
“There’s no need for you to cut your workday short unless you just wish to. I can walk them home after school and stay with them until you return home in the evening.”
“But isn’t that tying you down quite a bit?”
She shrugged. “As I said, this is just a short-term solution, until you settle on a wife. But it gives you a little breathing room so that you can make the right decision. Besides, I can work with the children on their sign-language skills, and they’ll need extra help with their class work until they catch up with the other children.” She spread her hands. “So you see, your urgency to find a wife is not as pressing as you believe. You can take the time you need to get it right.”
Getting it right seemed mighty important to her. Was it just her concern for the children? “I know there are a good many people out there, mostly the young and foolish, who hold out for a love match. But I’m not one of them.” At least not anymore. “And there are many people who marry for other reasons, reasons that have to do with business or convenience, or comfort or security. None of these require that the parties be more than merely compatible.”
“True. But it’s important that you are more than a little certain of that compatibility.”
“Is that why you never married?” he asked impulsively. “Because you couldn’t find a man you felt was compatible?”
He was surprised by her reaction. She stiffened and her expression closed off. He’d obviously touched a nerve of some sort.
* * *
Janell felt everything inside her constrict and she regretted again that she couldn’t explain. He couldn’t know her secret, but still his words cut.
“First of all, my personal life is not what’s under discussion here. And secondly, it will do the kids no good, and lots of harm, if they grow up in a home where the parents don’t get along. And make no mistake, you will be as parents to them.”
She tried to relax. “Now, let’s continue building our list. Behind Hortense is the Douglas family.”
They went through the remainder of the church quickly and ended up with three more names for Janell to check up on.
Then she stood. “I’ll leave you to your work now. I promised your aunt I would come by and relieve her so she can get out of the house and away from the cat for a little while.”
Mr. Chandler stood as well. “I can take you in the wagon.”
“No need. I enjoy the walk.”
“Well then, I’ll walk you there.” He held up a hand. “And I won’t take no for an answer. I want to check in on Aunt Rowena anyway.”
Janell knew he was just using that as an excuse, but she nodded anyway.
They walked without speaking at first, but after a few moments, Janell felt compelled to break the silence. “I just want to say, I think you are more capable of being a father to those children than you believe.”
He cut her a startled look. “What brought that up?”
“I just thought you should know, is all.”
“Even if you’re right, what they really need is a mother.”
“And you’re working on that. I just want to caution you one more time to make certain you take enough time to make the right choice.” She knew all too well how disastrous making the wrong choice could be.
Janell met his gaze with earnest entreaty. “It won’t really benefit them if you marry a woman who is wrong for them or for you.”
He rubbed the side of his jaw. “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms.”
“I understand your nervousness about getting them ready in the morning and putting them to bed at night. I have a suggestion that might help.”
“Your suggestions are always worth hearing.”
She didn’t miss the fact that he said worth hearing not worth following. But she pressed on. “While your aunt is still here to help, start developing some specific routines for both Alex and Chloe. Get them up at the same time every morning. Make it clear there are certain tasks they are expected to perform before they eat breakfast, such as getting the table ready or straightening their beds. Then do the same thing in the evenings. After supper, set a specific time when they should clean up and get ready for bed. Say prayers with them and tuck them in. Set rules around whether they are allowed to read or play quietly or if they must get right to bed.”
“And how will that help?”
“It’ll provide order and structure to their days. That’s important for a child. Before long, they will do these things automatically without you even bringing it up.” She smiled. “And just as importantly, it will give some order and structure to your day.”
And perhaps ease this headlong race he was running to find a wife before Christmas. She knew all too well how not taking the time to know your future spouse could develop into a disaster that would ruin the rest of your life.
She couldn’t bear to think of him falling into that same trap.
She wasn’t ready to admit to herself that there were other reasons she didn’t like to think about him marrying any of these ladies they’d discussed.