And Then Came Spring by Margaret Brownley Page B

hostile glare. “You’re not supposed to be mean.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Or be mean to my friends.”
    â€œIf you’re talking about Miss Parker, I apologized to her. I even offered to take her to the train today.”
    Doubt flickered in Eddie’s eyes. “She’s still here?”
    â€œYes, she is. Instead of leaving town yesterday, she stayed and looked for you.”
    Eddie jumped up from his chair. “You have to make Miss Parker stay. You gotta! Pleeeeeeeeease.”
    Make her stay?
    â€œI can’t make her do anything.” He certainly couldn’t make her stay, but the shining hope on Eddie’s face made him want to try. That and the memory of her moonlit eyes.
    â€œI can . . . I can ask.” What in blazes was he thinking? Why would she even think about staying? There was nothing here for her now that Dan was gone.
    â€œYou . . . you will?”
    Garrett blew out his breath. Now look what he’d done—given the boy false hope. Still, he didn’t want to spoil the sudden rapport between them, however tentative. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask. But if you don’t hurry, you’ll make me late and there won’t be time to ask her anything.”
    Eddie picked up a sausage and shoved it in his mouth. Garrett was tempted to reprimand him but decided there would be time enough later for teaching proper table manners. First, he had to earn the boy’s trust.
    He thought of something Miss Parker said. “You and Eddie are very much alike, you know. You both have strong feelings about what you believe in . ”
    â€œI might get her to postpone her journey for a day or two,” he said. “But it’s going to take a lot more to get her to stay longer.”
    Eddie grabbed his hat and coat and the strap that held his schoolbooks together and raced for the door.
    â€œWhy the sudden hurry?” Garrett called.
    â€œMaybe if I go to school and get a one on my ’rithmetic test, Miss Parker will stay for good!”
    Garrett grimaced. If he couldn’t talk Miss Parker into staying, Eddie wouldn’t believe another word he said. But what could he possibly say to keep her in town?
    â€¢â€¢â€¢
    Not wanting to be late for her train, Mary-Jo stood in front of Daniel’s house to save time, her sewing machine and carpetbag by her side. It was cold and she walked back and forth to stay warm.
    The sheriff arrived promptly at eight as promised. He set the brake on his wagon and hopped to the ground.
    She greeted him with a smile. “Morning.”
    He returned the favor. Their breaths formed white plumes in the cold air, but his crooked smile brought a warm flush to her cheeks. As quickly as it came, the smile left his face and he looked so serious she feared that perhaps Eddie had run off again. He picked up her sewing machine, but instead of placing it in the wagon he stood holding it.
    â€œDo you mind if we talk for a moment?” he asked.
    â€œI suppose. Is Eddie—?”
    â€œHe’s fine. He’s at school. Determined to get a good grade for you.”
    She clasped her gloved hands together. “That sure is good to know.”
    He shifted his weight between the heels and balls of his feet and seemingly made no effort to fill in the silence that stretched between them.
    â€œWhat do you wish to talk about, Sheriff?” When he still hesitated, she added, “Please feel free to speak your mind.” She didn’t mean to be impatient, but she did have a train to catch.
    He set the Singer down and pulled off his hat. “I was wondering if . . .”
    â€œYes? Go on.”
    He clutched his hat to his chest. “I was wondering if . . .” He cleared his throat, made a face, and looked as helpless as a man about to face a firing squad.
    She tapped her foot. He really did need to do something about that