“We thought we’d pay you a visit before going to the general store. Miss Anna has outgrown nearly all of her dresses, and she says her shoes pinch her toes.”
Max tried not to show his surprise at that revelation. He’d only just bought her a few dresses and a new pair of shoes when she came to live with him. Had she grown that much already? But judging from the way the sleeves of her dress ended an inch or two above her wrists, perhaps she had.
“And then wemightstop by the bakery she loves so much to see if Mr. Sands has baked any cake.” Delia gave Anna a look that indicated the cake would happen only if the rest of the venture went smoothly.
Max hid a smile as Anna’s face took on an eager look. “Well, I hope it’s a fruitful excursion.”
“I’ve also brought you a lunch, since I doubt we’ll be home at that time. Could I take it to the kitchen?”
“Of course. Thank you.” He pointed down the hallway. “It’s at the very end there, just past the dining room.”
Delia gave him a smile that made his face go warm. He watched Anna follow her down the hall, and thanked God the little girl seemed to have taken to her, at least a little. If he were honest, it hurt that she still seemed to want nothing to do with him.
But hopefully that would change in time.
Chapter Seven
THE ARTICLE WOULDN’Twrite itself.
Delia knew that as she stared at the blank sheet of paper on the table before her. It was mid-afternoon, a few hours before Max would arrive home from the hotel. Anna had attempted to run out the door earlier without a word, only to find Delia stopping her and demanding to know her plans. Faced with an afternoon of scouring the kitchen, Anna had reluctantly told her that she’d befriended a pair of siblings that lived nearby. After extracting a promise that they would behave and that Anna would return by supper, Delia let her go.
With the house quiet, Delia finally had the time and the energy to think of writing. Anna was a bigger handful than all of Delia’s younger siblings combined. She hadn’t realized exactly how much she was taking on when she answered Max’s advertisement. While Anna didn’t seem to trust her—or even really like her—just yet, she did at least appear to respond to the respect Delia insisted upon.
Maybe it was for the best. After all, she didn’t want the girl to get attached to her. She hadn’t taken on this self-imposed assignment to hurt anyone’s feelings.
Staring at the page again, she decided to start at the beginning. After all, readers would be curious about the journey to Colorado and her impressions of the town. She had nothing scandalous to write about, but the town and the train werefascinating enough. If she made it lively and intriguing enough, readers would clamor to know more. And that meant Roy would print it, despite his misgivings.
Delia set to work. Two hours later, the inkwell nearly dry and her hand cramping, she had a decent enough draft of an article. Tomorrow, she would read it again and rewrite it. Then she’d send it off to Roy with a note of apology.
For now, she needed to tuck it away and start supper. Upstairs, she placed the draft beneath the paper lining in her jewelry case, and then she set to work chopping vegetables for a soup. The cool mountain breeze through the open windows was a welcome respite from the heat of the stove. Before she knew it, the soup was ready and Max had arrived home.
They waited an hour and a half before Anna deigned to find her way through the front door.
Delia looked to Max. Anna was his daughter, and she expected him to take charge of the situation. But all he did was shake his head and say, “You were to be home in time for supper.”
Anna said nothing. Instead, she sat at the table with unwashed hands and a dirt-streaked pinafore over one of her old dresses. Delia waited another moment, but when Max said nothing, she had to speak up.
“Anna. If you wish to eat, you will need to wash your hands and remove that pinafore. And then you will need to apologize to your father and me for your tardiness.”
Anna eyed her without moving.
Delia recognized a challenge when she saw it. She tapped the bowls on the countertop. “Supper will be waiting when you do as I’ve asked. Dessert, however, may not be. And neither will your ability to visit with your friends, as I’ll feel the need to speak to their mother.” With that, she turned around and began to dish out soup for Max and herself.
After a moment, the legs of Anna’s chair scraped across the floor, and the back door opened.
