With a sigh, Ivy folded the quilt around her harp and laid the instrument on top of everything inside the trunk, not really caring if the weight would wrinkle the garments underneath. They’d have to be ironed, anyway.
She closed and latched the trunk, leaving the other’s lid open. Upon doing a thorough search of the room, she discovered one of the rose sachets had fallen under the bed and tossed the sweet-scented bag into the trunk. She left her coat and hat hanging on the wall pegs.
After glancing around and trying not to think of how empty the space appeared, Ivy walked through the rest of the house. She retrieved her sewing basket and a book from the parlor and a notebook and pencil from the dining room. In the kitchen, she lifted her apron off the hook. In Jewel’s room, she decided to leave behind the green hair ribbon she’d lent the girl.Maybe, she’ll wear it and remember me.
With everything packed, Ivy retreated to the parlor with Torin’s book on Montana’s native flowers but had a hard time concentrating. Even the thought that living in town would mean she could meet the illustrator failed to lift her spirits.
The noon hour passed, and Torin and Jewel still hadn’t returned from their walk. She couldn’t help wondering if the man was purposefully avoiding her.
Finally, hearing the sound of voices, Ivy closed the book, left the parlor, and went outside. Leaning on the porch rail, she soaked in the sight of Torin and Jewel walking hand in hand. His head was bowed toward his daughter, obviously listening.
Jewel held a mixed handful of flowers. She chattered away and swung their joined hands. Sometimes, she tried to skip—a skill Ivy had been teaching her and she hadn’t yet mastered.I won’t see when she does.
Thank goodness, she’s back to her normal sunny self.Ivy tried to memorize this moment, knowing she’d only have a few more opportunities to witness father and daughter together.
“Pa-pa, I play with In-ga an Els-be an Kis-ta,” Jewel’s voice carried.
She smiled.Maybe Jewel will wear down Torin. For his own peace of mind, he’ll give in to friendships with the Swensens.
He looked up and saw her, his expression shuttering.
Ivy tipped her head in Jewel’s direction and couldn’t resist giving Torin a see-what-I-mean glance.
He ignored her, looking away.
She refused to allow the hurt to show on her face and dredged up a smile for Jewel.
Jewel pulled away from Torin and tottered over to Ivy, holding up the ragged bouquet. “Flou-wers, Iv-y.”
“For me? Those are so pretty. Thank you, my darling.”I’ll have to press these between a book to take with me.She leaned to drop a kiss on the top of Jewel’s head, inhaling her little girl scent.
Torin came up next to his daughter. “Time to eat.” Hand on Jewel’s shoulder, he guided her away from Ivy.
With a crinkle-eyed smile and her tongue out, Jewel shuffled sideways past Ivy. “Ro-see.”
“I can tell you’ve been practicing.”
“Play with gi-wrls.”
Oh, darling, I certainly hope so.
Torin didn’t meet her eyes. He just stalked past her, following his daughter.
At one point, Ivy wandered into the kitchen to check on them. But Torin’s energy toward her was so cold, worse than the wary remoteness he’d shown early on, that she soon left.
Chilled, she stepped outside onto the porch to warm up, leaving the wooden door open, but closing the screen door to keep out the flies. She hoped the sunshine could reach inside her. But, of course, the rays didn’t penetrate.
From behind her, she hear the faint sounds of Torin helping Jewel change for a nap, something they’d often done together.
I can’t live like this.
That’s when Ivy realized she’d made the right decision to leave. She settled into a rocking chair and stared blankly at the lake.
Down the road, she heard hoofbeats and rattling wheels and then a surrey came in sight—a battered old one pulled by a nondescript brown horse, probably rented from the livery. Brian reined in and set the brake.
Although disappointed not to see Cora, Ivy rose and hurried to him, without waiting until he’d tied off the reins. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “A hero would never delay rescuing a damsel in distress,” he drawled, glancing up at the house, obviously looking for the others, before climbing down.
