She thought back to the previous evening. They'd sat in the parlor after Jewel went to bed, each reading by lamplight. The quiet had been easy, comfortable, even as she kept sneaking admiring glances his way. At one point, Torin had looked up from his book and caught her watching him, and she'd felt her cheeks heat. Had he seen her regard? Had that been enough to make him retreat behind his walls?
What happened between last night and this morning?
It doesn't matter,she told herself firmly.He's your employer. Whatever mood he's in is his own business.
Even though Torin poured her a cup of coffee and they conversed about Jewel, he didn’t soften. The revelation that his daughter was doomed to a short life made pain flash across his face, before being stoically hidden.
The very thought of such a devastating loss made Ivy want to cry.
When Jewel emerged from her room, hair every which way, rubbing her eyes, clutching both her rag doll and the pink felt J, and trailed by Brave, Torin greeted his daughter with his usual tenderness—dropping a kiss on top of her head, smoothing an errant strand of hair from her face. But when his gaze met Ivy's, something shuttered.
They ate their breakfast of oatmeal with dried blueberries and a drizzle of honey in silence. Brave gobbled some meat scraps and then slunk off.
Even Jewel was too sleepy to talk.
Torin’s gaze was always on Ivy, critically watching, making her uncomfortable and uneasy. She couldn’t settle into the pure joy of getting to know Jewel and finding out how she could best teach her.
After breakfast, while Torin helped his daughter dress, Ivy moved to the dining room to set up the items for their lessons at one end of the rectangular table in front of the fireplace. She'd brought out the red felt letterAshe'd made back in New York—the first in what she'd planned as a complete alphabet set—and Jewel's slate and chalk.
Today, she wanted to work on Jewel learning A, through familiarity with the felt letter and using the slate to practice printing As.
Father and daughter walked into the dining room, Jewel in the pink dress she’d worn yesterday, with her hair brushed loose.
Ivy’s hands itched to plait it back, but she knew Torin was capable because the girl had worn pigtails yesterday.This is his choice today.
The dining room had a table that sat six. In the middle on a lace doily stood an empty cut-glass vase and crystal squares containing salt and pepper and miniature spoons resting on a silver holder
Torin took a seat at the other end of the table from the fireplace, leaving them the warmer space. He placed a book on the table but didn’t open the pages, instead closely watching them.
She wanted to ask what he was reading, but given his mood, didn’t dare. Instead, she tried to pretend he wasn’t there.
“Today, we're going to learn a new letter.” Ivy held up the feltAfor Jewel to see. “This is the letter A. Can you say aaa?”
A smile crinkling her eyes, Jewel reached to take the letter, turning it over in her hands with the same careful reverence she gave to herJand herP. “Aay.”
“That's right,A.” Ivy guided Jewel's finger along the shape. “See how it has two long legs?” She raised her arms and put her hands slanting toward each other, fingertips touching to form aphysical demonstration of the A. “Can you make this?” She held her position, waiting to see what the child would do.
Jewel was able to approximate the shape, although her fingers were cupped, not straight, and her elbows lifted too high, causing a flat A.
Ivy reached to manipulate her hands and arms into place. “See, A.” She ran a finger up one of the girl’s arms and down the other. Then she picked up the felt letter and inserted it under Jewel’s hands, tip to tip.
The girl giggled and snapped her hands shut on the letter. “Aay.”
“Very good.” Ivy smiled.
Jewel set the felt A on the table and studied it. “Wwed.”
“That’s right. The color is rred.” Ivy emphasized the R sound but wanted to focus on As, not Rs. “Now, let's try drawing theAon your slate.” She placed the chalk in Jewel's hand and gently guided the strokes. “One long leg. Two long legs. Then they join across the middle because they like each other.”
Jewel’s first attempt was wobbly, the crossbar too high, but the basic shape was there. “Wonderful, Jewel. That's very good.”
“Good?” Jewel beamed. “Show Papa?”
“Of course. But first, let’s draw another A underneath this one.” She tapped the spot with the chalk. “Do you want me to help you, or do you want to do it yourself?”
“Self.”
“Of course, you do, Little Miss Independence.”
