In his younger days, when he was away at college, parcels from home had been so common, he’d taken them for granted. Since moving to Sweetwater Springs, they never arrived even though his family knew his and Jewel’s whereabouts.
Holding one now brought back memories he’d tried to forget—a whole life with a once-loving family. Torin swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat and pressed a hand to his chest as if to push away the heaviness.
Curious about the contents of the package, he wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at the square table. With a bit of effort, he untied the string and peeled open several layers of brown and then waxed paper. The scent of lavender wafted up. Underneath the packaging were a note and a quilted letter P about the size of his hand, made in green-and-blue-checked fabric. His heart lifted.A thoughtful gift from a stranger.
Jewel will love this.
He looked at thePand thought of the pink feltJhis daughter constantly carried around. He had to regularly wash the letter and knew he’d soon need to take needle and thread to mend a loosening seam.
He opened the note, admired the elegant copperplate writing, and began to read.
Dear Mr. Rees,
I’m taking the liberty of writing you because I know Cora is traveling so much for her nursing work that she might not be in Three Bend Lake for weeks or even months. She wrote me of your comment to your daughter of wanting a P for Papa, and it is my pleasure to oblige.
Sincerely,
Ivy Jackson
Torin read the short missive again, his gaze lingering on the kind message. While he’d dismissed Cora’s suggestion that he hire Ivy as a governess, the joy his daughter took in her felt letter, how she liked to draw Js in the snow with a stick or on her slate with chalk, made the idea of allowing a governess into their secret life grow on him. But his fear of what could happen if Miss Jackson turned out to judge his daughter asnot rightremained stronger than any vestige of hope that she could prove helpful.
He'd once thought himself a good judge of character, falling in love with Mary Beth and speaking his vows in church before God with the intention of committing to her for better or worse. He’d never dreamed that hisbetterwould become Mary Beth’smore-than-worseand split their marriage apart.
An unfamiliar knock sounded at the door, startling him out of his introspection. Torin set thePand note on the table, all the while wondering who could possibly be calling. Both Hank and Brian had distinctive knocks. This wasn’t theirs, and he only had four other options.
What if it’s a stranger?
His stomach tightened until he recalled today was Sunday, and that meant Constance and Dr. Angus might be driving up with Hank and Elsie. Relieved, he rose and went down the hall into the entryway. He opened the door to see a well-bundled-up Dr. Angus, a fur cap pulled low, obscuring most of his auburnhair. The skin of his face was flushed with cold, but he broke into a wry smile.
Torin hurriedly stepped back to allow him to come inside.
The doctor grinned at Torin. “How many years do ye think it will take for me to adjust to Montana’s winters?”
Torin shrugged. “January is always the worst. No holidays to look forward to. February is just as cold. But, at least, you have the illusion of hope that spring will arrive soon.” He gestured toward the interior of the house. “Let me make you some tea to warm your innards.”
“Times like this, I miss a good scotch whiskey. A medicinal dram, ye understand.” He waved a hand in negation. “I’m not planning to bide. Everyone else is at Hank’s, and they’ve sent me with an invitation for ye and Jewel to join us.”
Torin’s heart warmed at the thought of socializing with trusted friends. “When Jewel wakes from her nap, we’ll head over.”
Dr. Angus glanced down the hallway at Jewel’s bedroom door. “I aimed for her naptime because I wanted to discuss…ah…an uncomfortable…a sensitive topic.”
All kinds of fearful thoughts crowded Torin’s mind, too many to grasp. His stomach tightened.
Dr. Angus raised a hand. “Dinna fash yerself. ’Tis a normal process I want to discuss—that of menstruation.”
Menstruation.Torin knew the word. Knew the concept. After all, he’d once been a married man. But he couldn’t reconcile thatmonthly visitor, as Mary Beth described her courses, with his daughter.
“At twelve, I don’t expect for ye to have to worry for a year or more likely two. But girls have been known to begin their flow at twelve. I see no reason for Jewel’s body not to perform in the same way other girls’ do.”
Seeing Torin’s stricken expression, Dr. Angus chuckled. “Now, lad, none of that, eh? ’Tis normal, and the fact that we are even having this discussion is all because ye have kept Jewel happy and healthy so she could grow into a young lady.”
My baby is becoming a young lady.The thought boggled his mind and squeezed his innards.Who am I to guide my daughter into becoming a woman?For the first time in ages, he sent angry thoughts Mary Beth’s way.She should be the one to prepare Jewel for womanhood!
He supposed any father would balk at discussing the subject of menstruation with his daughter.But how can I explain to Jewel in a way she’ll understand?
Dr. Angus remained silent, waiting while Torin’s thoughts jumped around like a frantic flea. “Ye have time. Constance, Elsie, and Cora will help, of course. But it’s equally likely they’ll be in town when Jewel’s courses first start. And…we don’t know how she’ll manage each month. She might forget, and each appearance of menstrual blood might distress her.”
Torin groaned and rubbed a hand over his head.
