Mr. Waite nodded sagely, all trace of his teasing gone. “No sense running afoul of those Cobbs. Them’s the shopkeepers.” He turned to Ivy with a kindly expression. “Best steer clear of their maliciously wagging tongues.”
“Yes, sir.”This is one of the oddest conversations I’ve ever had.She glanced at Cora, and the half smile and expression on her friend’s face showed she agreed.
Laying a finger to the side of his nose, Mr. Waite winked at Ivy. “Since there’s no arrivals today, I’d best be getting back inside before the cold settles any deeper into these creaky bones.” With a cheery wave, he turned and tottered back to the depot.
Ivy stared after him and then down at the basket holding Brave. “Well, I must say, Sweetwater Springs is already proving more than I imagined.”
With a laugh, Cora hooked her arm through Ivy's, her eyes still bright with happy tears. “Oh, my dear friend.” She squeezed Ivy close. “Just you wait.”
Ignoringthe chill from the glass, Torin stood at the window of his parlor, one hand on the log wall, watching for the arrival of his guests. He had to forcibly stop himself from fidgeting and pacing out his anxious feelings. When he was alone like this, the doubts about his decision crept in, making his fears weigh heavy and grow larger and darker and almost impossible to combat.
The lake loomed a deep olive-green, surrounded by occasional snow piles left from the storm about ten days ago. Several swans drifted close, probably searching for the aquatic greens that were their primary food source.Aside from what Jewel feeds them.
The hardiness of the trumpeters never failed to amaze him. They looked too lovely to survive a Montana winter instead of heading south like more sensible birds. At the far end of the lake was a small hot spring situated about a hundred yards away, trickling warm water into that bend. The swans congregated in that area.
Even in cold weather, Jewel loved taking a walk to find them and tossing out some bits of old bread, peas—from a jar this time of year—or the tops of root vegetables.
The swans swam closer to shore, perhaps looking for his daughter, and, after waiting in vain for the arrival of easy food, pecked at something green and slimy before swimming off to bide at the warmer end of the lake.
He glanced down the road to the left but saw no sign of his friends’ arrival with his houseguest.
What have I gotten myself into?
Cora must have mesmerized me, even as Dr. Angus terrified me.That was the only explanation Torin could find for the way he’d temporarily lost his wits and agreed to invite her friend, Ivy, to be Jewel’s governess.Else my wits have entirely gone a beggin’.
The truth was, in those moments of fear and hope, he’d written the invitation, not really believing Miss Jackson would agree.What young woman would want to leave the exciting city of New York to live in a small mountain valley, with only eight other people knowing of her existence?
Ivy Jackson, that’s who.
For days, he’d pretended nothing was changing, as if by putting the governess out of his mind, or, at least attempting to, he could pretend she didn’t exist, wasn’t about to upset the peace and safety of his carefully ordered life, and, worst of all, judge and condemn his precious Jewel like her mother and both their families had.
Too late to change my mind.The woman is already here.Staying nice and snug in Brian’s cabin, where Cora had insisted her friend be allowed to bathe, eat a leisurely meal, and sleep the whole night through in a comfortable bed. Only after breakfast would she and Brian bring Miss Jackson to meet him and Jewel.
I can always send her packing.
How can I do that when she’s traveled all this way?It wasn’t as if teaching jobs were available in Sweetwater Springs.
Well…Torin shrugged, feeling the tight suit jacket he wore pull at his shoulders.I can send her away and pay her salary.
Today, he’d dressed up in pre-Jewel finery—a suit that still fit him in the waist but was tight around his upper body. He removed a watch from his vest pocket and looked at the time. Only ten minutes later than when last he’d checked, and the time before, and even earlier.
The more the morning ticked by, the tighter the knot in his stomach coiled. Torin hadn’t been able to touch a bite of food. His daughter, of course, ate with a good appetite and now played in her room. He could hear her talking to her doll about Brian and Cora’s visit. He’d told her about Miss Jackson, but judging from the one-sided conversation, Jewel hadn’t understood.
How could she, when I’ve never before told her she was about to meet someone new? The concept is probably foreign.
At twelve, Jewel had grown too big to cradle in his arms, shielding her against his body. Torin remembered holding his newborn close to his chest. The joy and awe at seeing her tiny, perfect face. The pride that had filled him when he realized he was now a father. In that moment, he’d promised her with all his heart to love and protect her with his life.
What if I’m making a mistake?Despite his rational mind telling him that he trusted Cora, and she wouldn’t recommend anyone who’d harm Jewel, he couldn’t help a nervous concern that behind a false front of kindness, her friend Ivy would prove to be as shallow and judgmental as Mary Beth.
He cocked his head, listening, as always, for his daughter’s presence in her bedroom. He could hear her talking to her doll but couldn’t quite make out the words. He’d told her Miss Cora had a friend, Miss Ivy, who was coming to stay with them, and she seemed to accept the news with her usual placidity. But he’d never told her about newcomers before, so maybe she hadn’t completely understood.
To distract himself, Torin mentally went through his preparations. Fires burned in the porcelain stove in the parlor, the fireplace in the dining room, and both the fireplace and stove in the kitchen.
He always chopped far more wood than he needed, afraid if his house grew too cold, Jewel might become ill. Therefore, he never stinted on heat. But usually, he only heated the parlor ordining room if they were going to use it. In the winter, they spent most of their time in the kitchen. Jewel’s bedroom was behind the kitchen, so the back of the brick fireplace provided some warmth.
The spare room was as welcoming as he, or really Cora, could make it.
Although Cora had been busy with her nursing work, she wrote him with plans and orders, almost like a quartermaster arranging supplies before his troops set off for war. True to her word to handle all the details, she’d done the shopping, ordering everything through the mercantile. Elsie had sewn curtains for the windows.
