LITMIR.BIZ

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attempt to assist Leo and me in this matter, don’t you think I should have some say in whatever it is you’re planning?”

      Sheriff Gleason gave her a stern look. “Frankly, Miss Pickering, unless Chance here has a real good solution in mind, I don’t see how I can keep from locking the boy up, at least for as long as it takes me to get to the bottom of this matter.”

      Chance tried one of his more persuasive smiles on her. “What do you say? Can you trust me to find a solution that’ll make everyone happy? Or at least reserve judgment until you hear what I have in mind?”

      She didn’t seem particularly won over, but gave a slow nod. “I suppose that’s a fair request.”

      So much for charming her. “Good girl.”

      He saw the startled look at his familiar address, but she didn’t chide him again. Instead she turned to the sheriff. “Perhaps we can make good use of the time we’ll spend waiting for Mr. Dawson to carry out his mysterious errand. We can get started on whatever inquiries need to be made to clear up this matter with Leo.” She clasped her hands together. “After all, the sooner started, the sooner finished.”

      “Good idea.” Sheriff Gleason moved around to the other side of his desk. “I’ll draft a telegram and send it off today.”

      “Speaking of telegrams,” Chance said to Eve, “isn’t there someone in Tyler you need to notify about your postponed arrival?” He found it interesting that she seemed to have given so little thought to this sudden change in her own plans.

      Miss Pickering’s eyes widened and she placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my goodness. How could I have forgotten about Mrs. O’Connell? I imagine she’ll be worried when I don’t get off the train. I must send her a telegram immediately.”

      At least that had gotten her mind off quizzing him. “Well then, it looks like you folks won’t have much time to miss me. I’ll meet you back here in about a half hour.”

      Chance smiled as he exited the sheriff’s office, headed for the boardinghouse. He’d succeeded in getting Miss Pickering to trust him, at least for the time being, and also in finding something to focus her attention on while he was gone. There was some hope that he could make a dent in her reserve yet. He grinned, relishing the thought of how much fun it would be to do that.

      He’d have to get Dotty on board for his plan to work, but he didn’t foresee any problem with that. Knowing she would be key to helping Turnabout’s newest visitors be more comfortable would be all the incentive she needed.

      Then his smile faded. Before talking to Dotty, there was one more thing he needed to do.

      He’d put it off long enough. It was time to read the letter.

      Chance turned his steps toward his own place. As soon as he was inside, he tore the envelope open. Taking a deep breath, he focused all his concentration on deciphering the words on the paper in his hands. Some days he had more success than others.

      Today was not one of those days.

      He tried again, straining his eyes until they ached with the effort. But it was no use. His brain refused to translate the markings on the paper into anything that made sense.

      Frustrated and shamed once again by his inability to do what most schoolchildren did with little effort, Chance refolded the letter and shoved it back into his pocket. Sharing the news in this letter—whatever it was—wasn’t something he relished doing, but it seemed he had no choice.

      Time to visit Dotty.

      Ten minutes later he entered the parlor of the boardinghouse, where Dotty sat knitting.

      “What, no bridge game?” he teased. “Did you just use that as an excuse not to have lunch with us?”

      She set aside her needlework. “Not at all. Unfortunately Stanley wasn’t feeling well so we didn’t have enough folks to play.” Then she leaned back, a puzzled expression on her face. “Surely you and our stranded visitors haven’t had enough time to eat already?”

      He took a seat across from her. “There’s been a slight change of plans. But I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

      “Of course. The letter?”

      Dotty knew of his affliction and had told him it was one her brother had shared. He’d hired her to take care of his account books, and she came over to his place twice a week, coincidentally on the days the newspaper was delivered. She not only handled his accounts, but she also took care of any paperwork he needed assistance with and read the newspaper to him.

      Her matter-of-fact handling of the situation was a great balm to his wobbly self-esteem.

      Now he pulled the letter from his pocket but didn’t hand it over immediately. “There’s that, of course. But there’s something else.”

      “You’ve piqued my curiosity. But why don’t we get the letter out of the way first?”

      Chance nodded as he handed it over. “It’s from my father.”

      She tilted her head, giving him a considering look. “You don’t sound happy at the prospect of hearing from him.”

      He grimaced. “My father is not one to write unless there is something he wants.”

      Without further comment, she opened the letter and began reading.

      Chauncey,

      Dotty eyed him in amused surprise.

      He shrugged, trying to hide his irritation. “It’s my given name. I’m not overly fond of it, but Father insists on using it.”

      “I see.” She turned back to the letter.

      When you left Philadelphia and headed for that backwater town in Texas, I told you that you would be welcome to return home when and if you gained some maturity and restraint, and were ready to accept both the responsibilities and privileges that come with being a member of this family. Since you have not yet taken advantage of this invitation in the year and a half that has passed since that day, it leaves me to wonder if you have learned anything at all from the experience.

      Dotty was doing a good job of keeping her voice and expression neutral but she had to be wondering about the letter’s tone. That was his father, though, ready to get right to the heart of the matter without wasting time worrying about trivial matters such as how one was getting on.

      Dotty continued:

      Therefore I have decided that I will come to visit you to see what kind of life you’ve managed to build for yourself. And while I’m there, we can use some of that time to discuss your future.

      I imagine you are thinking that there is nothing for us to discuss, but in that you would be mistaken. As it happens, it recently came to my attention that you have mortgaged your place to invest in a new venture. It may interest you to know that I now own that note, so yes, I do have some stake in your future.

      You can expect me to arrive by mid-December and I will plan to spend Christmas with you before returning to Philadelphia.

      Dotty looked back up as she refolded the letter. “And he signs it Your father, Woodrow Dawson.”

      Everything inside Chance had tensed as Dotty read his father’s words, drawing tighter and tighter, like a clockwork spring that would soon explode out of its case.

      A moment later he took a deep breath and forced his fists to unclench. It wouldn’t do to let Dotty see just how strongly the letter had affected him.

      “I thank you for taking the time to read that for me.”

      She handed him the letter. “It sounds like you will have family with you for Christmas this year.”

      That was Dotty, always looking for the silver lining. He attempted a grin. “As you can no doubt tell, my father and I did not part on

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