A Family for Christmas

Oh, my goodness. She stopped in her tracks just as they reached the corner of the building. That meant—

His grin had a mischievous edge. “That’s right. I have my shop on the first floor and my living quarters on the second.”

“You mean this is where we’re going to be staying?”

He swept his hand forward with a flourish. “In all its glory.”

A former saloon, of all things. Somehow it seemed very in character for this unorthodox gent to have set up shop in such an establishment. She slowly approached the entrance, feeling decidedly uncomfortable about what she might see inside. Just the idea of what all must have taken place in a former saloon was enough to send the warmth into her cheeks and her grandmother’s scandalized voice resounding in her mind.

Which was foolish, she told herself firmly. It was merely a building and nothing more. Lifting her chin, she pushed through the swinging doors and stepped into a very large undivided room that took up most of the lower floor. She’d never been inside a saloon before, of course, so she’d had no idea what to expect.

To her relief, Mr. Dawson was as good as his word and there were very few traces remaining of the former den of iniquity. The most obvious remnant of the building’s former purpose sat to her left—what had obviously been the counter where the drinks were dispensed. There was still a brass rail on the lower portion where she imagined men had propped their boots as they partook of the bar’s offerings. Looking closer, though, there was something odd about the counter, as if part of it had been lopped off. A result of the fire perhaps?

As for the rest of the room, the section nearest the doors was bare except for two round tables that had been shoved together to the left of the entrance. Three unmatched wooden chairs, at least one of which bore scorch marks, flanked them. Is that where he entertained visitors? Assuming he ever had visitors.

Across the room, however, it was a different story. The area was as crowded and cluttered as this side was bare. A pair of long worktables along with three smaller round ones were arranged in a seemingly random manner, all cluttered with an odd assortment of unidentifiable metal parts. There were also tools, jars, canisters, rags and crates scattered here and there. That was it. The walls were bare and there weren’t any domestic touches to speak of. Nor was it what one would call neat and tidy.

This place was definitely more of a workshop than a home. “You have done a good job of erasing the signs of a fire.”

“Thanks. I had to replace the staircase and a large portion of the floor. There was some damage to the far end of the counter but it’s such a fine piece of workmanship that I couldn’t bear to scrap the whole thing. And that east wall needed extensive repairs.”

He pointed to the opposite wall, where she could see doors. “Thankfully the other rooms down here—the kitchen, office and storage room—suffered very little damage.”

“So the building is now sound structurally?”

“Definitely.” Then Mr. Dawson smiled without visible embarrassment. “Sorry for the mess. I like to take things apart in order to figure out how they work—or at least try to. Sometimes I don’t get them put back together right away.”

While her host talked, Eve kept an eye on Leo, who was already halfway across the room. “Don’t touch anything,” she warned him. She was as concerned for the boy’s safety amid Mr. Dawson’s mishmash of metal parts and wires as she was for the items themselves. Then she eyed the cluttered tables again. How did the man keep up with where everything was? “Do you work alone?”

“That I do. There’s barely enough paying work here to keep one man busy. But it’s slowly picking up. And I have some plans for diversifying and expanding my business.”

Something about his tone seemed odd. But before Eve could push further, Leo spoke up from across the room.

“You know how to fix all of this stuff?” There was a touch of awe in his tone.

Chance shrugged. “Most of it. And I haven’t given up on the rest. I like trying to solve puzzles.”

Eve smiled. She rather liked puzzles herself, but she had a feeling the two of them had entirely different activities in mind.

“Do you think I could learn, too?” Leo asked wistfully.

“I don’t see why not—so long as you’re willing to really work at it.”

Eve was torn between being glad he hadn’t squashed Leo’s enthusiasm, and worrying that he was giving the boy false hope. After all, depending on what the sheriff’s inquiries revealed, Leo might not be in Turnabout for very long.

Mr. Dawson raised a brow. “But you can start by learning how to keep this place neat and clean.”

Eve swallowed a retort. Clean was one thing, but it would take hours, perhaps days, of effort to get this place neat and organized.

Leo changed the subject. “Where’s your motor carriage?” He looked around as if expecting to see it lurking in some corner.

“There’s a shed out behind the place where I store it.” Mr. Dawson waved to a door on the far end of the room. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Eve fought the urge to roll her eyes. He seemed as much a kid as Leo—easily distracted and always ready to play. “Before you do that,” she said firmly, “why don’t you show us to our rooms so we can get settled in.”

Mr. Dawson gave her an apologetic grimace. “Of course. First things first I suppose.” He changed direction and moved toward the stairs.

Leo started to protest, but before Eve could say anything, Mr. Dawson’s brow drew down in a warning look. “Miss Pickering is right—we should take care of business first.” Then he winked. “But don’t worry, there’ll be time enough for play later.”

Then he turned back to her and motioned toward the stairs. “It’s right up this way. There are four rooms up here and they’re all pretty much the same—only the view from the windows is different. My room is the last one on the right—you can have your pick of the other three. I’ll leave it to you to make the assignments.”

Eve looked around as they topped the stairs. The second floor was configured with a U-shaped landing over the far side of the building. There were two doors at the head of the stairs and one on either side facing each other.

“We’ll reserve that one for Mrs. Epps,” she said, pointing to the room next to Mr. Dawson’s, “and, Leo, you can take the one next to her. I’ll take the one on the end.”

She followed Leo into the room she’d designated as his and saw that it was not overly large but still of a comfortable size and plainly furnished. She wasn’t certain exactly what she’d expected in rooms above what had been a saloon, but it certainly wasn’t this modest appointment.

She turned to her host. “This will do quite nicely. Thank you.”

Mr. Dawson’s smile gave her the impression he knew what she’d been expecting. “The upstairs was barely affected by the fire, only smoke damage and minor scorching on the landing. But I got rid of most of the gaudier furnishings.”

“I see.” Perhaps he wasn’t as unmindful as she’d assumed.

He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “They’re rather sparsely furnished I’m afraid. Like this room, each has a bed, a chest and a small vanity and that’s about it. They’ve remained unused in the time I’ve been here so they’ll probably need a good airing and a cleaning.”

“The furnishings are more than adequate and the cleaning and airing are something Leo and I are quite capable of handling.” Putting words to action, Eve crossed the room and opened the window, letting in the sunshine and crisp November air.

Then she turned back to Mr. Dawson. “I assume you have a broom and some dust rags we can use? Oh, and a line outside to hang the sheets on for an airing.”

He gave a short bow. “Of course. Let me set your bag in your room and I’ll fetch them for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I don’t want you to feel as if you have to wait on us while we’re here. Just point me in the right direction.” She looked toward Leo. “In the meantime, would you strip the sheets from all three beds and carry them downstairs, please?”

Leo didn’t look happy about postponing his opportunity to examine the motor carriage, but he nodded and started to work on the beds.

Eve followed Mr. Dawson from the room and paused with him in the hallway.

“I keep the broom and mop in the storeroom downstairs,” he said. “Along with a lot of other odds and ends. You’ll find it just to the right of the stairway. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you need.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll find everything just fine.”

“If you’re certain you and Leo will be all right for a bit, I need to run a few errands and then see to moving Dotty.”

Assuring him that they would be fine, Eve headed toward the room she’d reserved for Dotty. She wanted to have it aired out before the woman arrived.

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