“I guess I hadn’t thought much beyond one,” he said sheepishly.
“And what about a guest room, for if Elsie’s family comes to visit?”
“Good thinking. Or my sister and her brood.”
They worked through the plans for the better part of an hour, Torin suggesting adjustments with a quiet authority that surprised him. He’d always had an interest in architecture. However, his father was adamant that his sons follow him into the family business. But occupational path didn’t keep him from paying attention to the outsides and insides of homes. Until this moment, Torin hadn’t realized he’d missed satisfying his curiosity in that manner.
When the plans were rolled up, Torin walked Hank to the front door. “I, um…” He kept his voice low. “I have a favor to ask from Jewel’s uncle.”
Hank raised an eyebrow.
“The Northern Lights have been strong this week. I'd like to take Ivy to see them. There’s this overlook up from Brian’s house.”
“Good spot.”
“Being a city girl, she won’t have seen anything like them.” He tried to sound matter-of-fact instead of eager. “Would you be willing to come over around ten o'clock and stay with Jewel while she sleeps? We wouldn't be gone more than an hour, two at the most.”
A slow smile spread across Hank's face.
The kind of smile that made Torin immediately regret asking.
“A moonlit walk to a mountaintop overlook,” Hank murmured suggestively, leaning against the doorframe. “Just the two of you. Under the beautiful Northern Lights.” He crossed his arms. “And you want me to believe this isn't romantic?”
“It isn't.” The denial came too fast and too flat. He hoped his friend didn’t notice.
“Of course, not.” Hank's smile didn't waver. “You're just being a thoughtful employer. Showing the governess the local scenery.”
“That is exactly what I'm doing.”
“Perfectly innocent,” Hank agreed, his eyes twinkling. “Ivy and Jewel can write an essay on the delights of the sky.” He took his coat from the rack and shrugged into the garment.
Torin growled.
Hank chuckled. “At ten o'clock at night?” He wrapped a scarf around his neck and clapped his Stetson on his head.
“The Northern Lights are not visible during the day, Hank,” Torin said in a wry tone.
Hank held up both hands in mock surrender. “I'll be here tonight. Wouldn't miss it.” He tilted his head, considering. “I ought to bring Elsie up here sometime to see the lights. Thatwouldbe romantic. I'll admit it freely, unlike some people.”
“Goodnight, Hank.”
“It's three in the afternoon.” He removed his gloves from his pocket and pulled them on.
“Thengood afternoon, Hank.”
“I have some things to take care of at the house.” His friend laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and headed for the porch. “I’ll return in time for supper.” At the top of the steps, he turned back. “You deserve this, you know,” he said, and his voice hadlost its teasing edge. “Spending sweet time with a pretty lady. Allow yourself to believe in that.”
Torin closed the door on the annoying man and pressed his forehead against the cool wood, forcing himself to think clearly. Ivy Jackson was his daughter's governess,period.No sweet time allowed.
She lived under his roof, depended on him for her employment and her safety. Any indication of interest—any lingering look, any touch that lasted a beat too long—would make her uncomfortable and put her in an impossible position. She could not refuse her employer's advances without risking her livelihood, and a woman as principled as Ivy would rather leave than endure that kind of disrespect.
And if she left?—
The thought sent a spike of cold through his chest. Not for himself. For Jewel.
His daughter adored Ivy. She'd blossomed under the woman's care in ways Torin hadn't dared to hope for. Jewel counted and wrote and sang and laughed with an ease that would have been unimaginable six days ago. If Ivy left—if Torin's selfish, reckless feelings drove her away—her absence would devastate the child. Jewel wouldn't understand. She'd only know that someone she loved had disappeared.
I won’t do that to her.
