“That I am, Little Miss.”
He reached a hand for Ivy, and then helped down Cora.
The men climbed out and made sure the child was out of the way, so Sam could move the coach.
The surrey pulled up with Reverend Joshua driving the Bellaires, his wife, and Micah. As soon as his father set the brake, Micah jumped out and raced over to Jewel. “Papa says I can show you my toys. We can evenplaywith them.”
Reverend Joshua strolled up with his wife on his arm.
Delia excused herself to go check on the baby.
“I hope you don’t mind.” He angled toward Torin. “I figured the Good Lord would prefer Micah spent the Sabbath afternoon entertaining Jewel. Are you against them playing today?” He quirked a smile. “I suppose if we were Jewish, Micah playing with Jewel, making her comfortable in a new place among somestrangers, would be considered amitzvah—a good deed done from religious duty.”
Except for a little Bible reading, Torin didn’t really observe the Sabbath, and he’d never impose strict standards on Jewel. His family hadn’t been as rigid as the Maynards, where the children could only read the Bible or other religious treatises on Sundays and not do anything else. If he and his brothers remained in their bedrooms, their parents didn’t check up on them to make sure they weren’t playing with their toys. Only when they went into the parlor did they have to act quiet and proper.
Torin’s first impulse was to refuse. But when he looked into Micah’s innocent face and glanced at his daughter, who gazed at the boy with unabashed curiosity, he changed his mind. “I think Micah’smitzvahwould suit Jewel just fine.”
“Yeah!” Micah started a fist pump into the air, caught a quelling look from his father, and pulled down his arm. “Come on, Jewel. Let’s go.”
Jewel didn’t look back at Torin to check with him. As if Micah had turned into the Pied Piper of Hamelin, she followed him, mesmerized.
Amazed, although still feeling a pang in his chest, he turned to Ivy, who watched the two children with an expression of pride. “If I hadn’t just seen that with my own eyes, I never would have believed my daughter would just desert me. No shyness. No hesitancy.”
Ivy burst out laughing. “First of all…” She glanced at Reverend Joshua. “Your son is wonderful. Secondly…” She tapped Torin’s arm. “She’s behaving like any girl would.”
He supposed she was right but didn’t want to admit it. “At least Jewel knows what to do with boy’s toys,” he grumbled.
Mr. Bellaire walked over. His twinkling eyes belied his deliberately benign expression. He glanced from Torin to Ivy.“Since luncheon won’t be served for an hour or so, I have a treat for you two. On this fine spring day, Torin, I think it would be nice for you to take Ivy for a little jaunt with the Falabellas.”
Torin considered the man’s proposition. He’d heard of the little horses. Brian had even suggested buying one for Jewel.
Ivy’s cheeks reddened. “Oh, no, we would be rude to leave the others.” But she didn’t appear opposed to the idea.
Torin was eager to get away from everyone else and for the two of them to spend some time alone. “Actually,” he lowered his voice so only she could hear, “I’ve been around a lot of people and could use a little quiet time. Sure would like to see these miniature horses I’ve heard so much about.”
“They’re adorable. Micah showed them to me a few days ago. “
“With two of you in the little buggy, you can’t drive far,” Mr. Bellaire warned. “Go back to Main Street and turn right. Head toward the park.” He extended his arm in the direction. “We’ve recently laid down a road through. Some paths, too. Imported a lot of trees and planted shrubs and flowerbeds.” His eyes grew distant. “I like to imagine what the trees will look like a hundred years from now.”
Mr. Bellaire’s weak heart wasn’t a secret, and Torin wondered how many years he had to see his trees grow.
Ivy gave the man a considering look, as if assessing his health. “Sounds lovely.”
Appearing to turn into a magician, Mr. Bellaire waved his arms in the direction of what Torin assumed was the stables.
Sam appeared driving a tiny buggy pulled by two black Falabellas. He reined-in close to Torin and Ivy and flashed his white grin. “Your chariot awaits.” Setting the brake, he stepped out and handed the reins to Torin. “You’ve driven before?”
“Not for many years.” He smirked. “But the setup looks familiar enough, if considerably smaller.”
The coachman chuckled.
Mr. Bellaire helped Ivy into the buggy.
Once she was settled, Torin eased himself in. But there was no avoiding the tight fit and how their shoulders touched.
For the first few blocks, he drove carefully, rediscovering old skills. Then, more comfortable, he flicked the reins against their rumps, and the miniature horses increased to a trot.
They remained quiet, the silence awkward, and as unlike the comfortable evenings they used to spend together as could be. Torin had so much to say but didn’t know where to begin, and he desperately wished for Brian’s glib facility with words. The park was set in several acres of greenery. He turned onto a narrow road paved with the same brownish-pink bricks he’d seen on the Bellaire mansion. “The library.” Ivy pointed to a building that was still only bones. “Rose will be the librarian.”
