Raph raised an eyebrow. “Susy?”
Pamela immediately blushed and lowered her gaze. “Camelia and I named them, Father. It’s… It’s short for Susanna.”
Raph let out a bark of laughter. The rich sound rang out in the open space and made her stiffen. She stared at him wide-eyed. He had never laughed with her before.
“Well then, let’s go see Susy.” His smile never wavered as they walked to the white mare.
Raph ruffled her mane, causing her to neigh, and Pamela could barely contain her excitement at the sound.
“Susy, you say?” He turned to her with a smirk.
“Yes, Father. It was Camelia’s idea to name her that.” She let out a soft giggle.
“I’m curious, Pamela. What did you name the stallion?” His boots crunched on the straw as he collected a bucket of water for the mare.
“Oh, we stuck with Chestnut for him because it was so easy to remember.”
“Ah, I see, I see.” Raph rubbed his chin as he watched the white mare slurp up some water. “Susy is a good choice. She’s calm and steady, like you.”
Like her mother, too.
His throat tightened as morbid memories flooded his mind. Josephine’s laughter, her gentle eyes that were so like Pamela’s.
“You have her eyes, you know. Your mother’s. They were hazel, like the forest at dusk.”
Pamela’s hand stilled on the mare.
“What is it, Pamela?”
“Nothing, Father.” Her voice shook. “It’s just that you… you never talk about her.”
Raph’s chest ached. His promise to protect Pamela from the past and the truth pressed heavily upon him. Perhaps Camelia was right, and Pamela was stronger than he thought.
“I should talk more about her, shouldn’t I?” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Come, let’s sit.”
Pamela followed him quietly to a nearby oak bench. They sat heavily on it and enjoyed a moment of silence, before Raph spoke.
“What would you like to know about your mother?”
Pamela’s fingers fidgeted in her lap. “You mean it? You’ll really talk about her?” she asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” Raph responded carefully.
“What was she like?”
“She was… kind. She loved horses, like you, but she never enjoyed horse riding.” He chuckled at the memory of Josephine falling off a horse and landing on a stack of hay.
“What is it, Father?” Pamela’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“Just a fond memory of her falling off a horse.” He shook his head.
“Did she get hurt?”
Raph saw the panic in her eyes and felt his heart clench.
“You have her compassion, too, Pamela. And no, she did not get hurt. We hadn’t even left the stables. But she immediately gave up on horse riding after that incident.”
A spark of warmth passed between them, and their laughter mingled. Raph’s heart swelled as he treasured the moment.
