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had her pie before.”
    Grandfather set down his fork. “She kept the house going when your grandmother was sick.” The bleak expression on his face told Haydn not to intrude on his memories. Sure enough, he changed the subject. “Keep going to the diner. That place is gossip central. A good place for a newspaperman to pick up on local news.”
    Haydn hadn’t accepted his grandfather’s offer to start a newspaper—yet. But it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about the town. Gladys had occupied so much of Haydn’s attention that he hadn’t noticed much happening around him. The next time he returned, he would have to open his eyes and ears.
    Grandfather began to cough in midbite, spitting out crumbs of pie in the process. He gestured wildly. Haydn poured him a glass of water, and he gulped it down. “More.” The word came out as a croak. Haydn emptied the pitcher before the coughs subsided.
    Grandfather pushed away the plate, the slice of pie half-eaten. “That teaches me to accept handouts.”
    “You can’t blame your cold on the stew.” Haydn bit his tongue to keep from saying any more. If Grandfather got worse, he would send for a doctor. For now, he heated water. Tea with honey and lemon should help.
    Grandfather scowled. “Maybe not. But it didn’t make it any better either.”

Chapter 5
    C onfidence bolstered Gladys as she prepared for her second visit to the Keller mansion. Knowing that Mr. Keller was probably resting and that she had an ally in Haydn made the afternoon’s task less like a siege and more like a social call.
    “I’ve used all the baskets. I need to get some more with my next pay.” The only basket left in the pantry was the one Ma used for summer picnics.
    Ma waved away her concern. “Go ahead and use the picnic basket, I can get another one before summer. Now get the sachets out of here before our lunch smells like cedar.”
    Laughing, Gladys carried the first two baskets to the wagon. As she packed them in, Haydn came up behind her. “I thought you might need help carrying your pretty baskets, but I see you have it all organized.”
    “You can help me bring things out from the kitchen.” She walked with a light step as Haydn held the door open for her.
    Ma greeted Haydn with a bright smile. “You must be Mr. Johnson.”
    “And you must be Gladys’s sister.”
    Ma colored prettily at that bit of flattery. “That’s kind of you to say, Mr. Johnson, even if it is a bit of foolishness. Gladys is our eldest.”
    Gladys handed Haydn the heavier baskets with glass jars and then lifted more greenery baskets.
    “You’ll have to come for dinner one night while you’re in town. You and Mr. Keller must take a break from your business discussions from time to time. Can you make it Saturday evening? Or perhaps Sunday after church?”
    Ma was clever to give Haydn a couple of choices and make it harder for him to say no.
    But then Gladys had another thought, and her face grew warm. With such an impromptu invitation, Haydn might feel like they viewed him as a potential suitor.
    But Haydn took the offer in stride. “Provided it’s acceptable to Mr. Keller, I’ll come over after church.” Tipping his hat, he took the baskets outside, and Gladys followed him.
    Haydn placed his baskets in the wagon then helped Gladys with hers. After they finished loading the wagon, and as she lifted her leg to get up, he slipped his arms around her and whisked her onto the passenger’s seat. Never before had her spine tingled at the courteous gesture in all the times Pa had done the exact same thing.
    By the time the momentary surprise had passed, Hayden had swung onto the driver’s seat. “Are you ready?”
    At her nod, he snapped the reins over the horse’s head.
    During the short ride to the mansion, Gladys glanced at Haydn’s profile out of the corner of her eye. Brown hair streaked with lighter colors, strong, handsome, clean cut—a man who would look right at home in a city. She couldn’t