Chapter 15
“Where is she going?” Reeves wondered aloud as Emma tore off across the yard.
They were on their way back up to the house after the picnic.
The weather had stayed pleasant for hours, but now, finally, it was beginning to turn.
The sun had been obscured by clouds, and the temperature had dropped considerably.
Both Bridget and Reeves had noticed Emma beginning to shiver, and that was when they had decided to call a halt to the fun and take things inside.
At first, Bridget thought Emma was running ahead because of the cold, but then she noticed Agnes standing in the doorway. “She’s going to her aunt,” she said, pointing Agnes out to Reeves.
“Oh,” Reeves said. “That’s all right, then. I suppose they should spend some time together today.”
“They have a very special relationship, don’t they?” Bridget asked.
“Yes,” Reeves agreed. “I think Agnes would have been a wonderful mother, personally, but she’s never shown any interest in marriage.
I suppose she’s just too clever for all the men she meets.
At any rate, it’s a good thing she has Emma to dote on, because it means that motherly affection has somewhere to go.
She’s a wonderful aunt. And I’m grateful to have her, too.
She’s the closest thing to a mother Emma has in her life, and I’m glad Emma has something like that, since she lost her real mother. ”
“Yes, that’s a wonderful thing,” Bridget murmured. “An aunt can be such an important person in a girl’s life.”
He glanced at her. “Did you have an aunt you were close to?”
“Well, not exactly,” she said. “I stayed with Prudence’s mother for a few years, and she and my uncle guided me through the Season.
But I wouldn’t say I benefited much from that relationship.
Still, I can see how it would have been good to have a truly caring aunt, as Emma does, especially since my own parents weren’t much help to me.
” She could have bitten her tongue. “Though of course Emma does have a good father as well,” she said quickly.
Reeves smiled. “I understood what you meant,” he assured her. “It was good to see her laugh like that today, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, it was wonderful,” Bridget enthused. “Just to hear her voice like that… I think that’s a huge step forward.”
“Do you really? I’d like to believe it is,” Reeves said as they reached the house. Emma and Agnes had already disappeared inside and were nowhere to be seen.
“Most certainly,” Bridget said. “The reason she’s being quiet isn’t that she’s forgotten how to speak.
It’s that she’s feeling too timid to use her voice for some reason.
Laughing like that is a sign that she’s letting her walls down.
Maybe it means she’ll be ready to talk to us soon. I hope so, at any rate.”
“So do I,” Reeves agreed fervently. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. You’ve made it clear to me that I need to be patient. I want her to recover, so I intend to do that. But if you have any advice for me, any suggestions on how I might help her find the ability to speak, I will take them to heart.”
Bridget couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Suddenly you’re so willing to listen to me,” she said.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, but he was smiling. “It’s only because today went so well. If it hadn’t been for her laughter, I would still be telling you that this picnic had been a bad idea and a mistake. A foolish indulgence.”
“Well, I think that’s more than fair,” Bridget said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”
“Of course. I don’t expect you to go on listening to me if my thoughts and ideas don’t produce any results,” she said. “And likewise, when I turn out to be right about something, I’m glad to see that you’re willing to acknowledge that fact.”
“You’re humble too,” Reeves laughed.
“Well, I’m perfectly humble when the situation calls for it!
When I make a child laugh, though, I think that’s something to be proud of, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise for the sake of humility,” she said, grinning.
“You know, I’ve spent enough time with children who were suffering through hardships to understand just how difficult it can be to put smiles on their faces. ”
“This is something you have experience with?” he asked her.
“Oh, yes. It’s not exactly in the description of my responsibilities at the orphanage, but those children have been through so much.
When I see one who is suffering, I consider it a duty to try to brighten their day in whatever way I possibly can.
Sometimes that means an extra piece of chocolate slipped into a pocket after dinner.
Sometimes it means sitting with them after a nightmare until they’re able to fall back asleep.
But more often than you might expect, I find that telling a little joke makes a world of difference for these children.
It’s something I’ve gotten fairly good at over the years, if I do say so myself. ”
She blushed as she spoke the words. It was true—she was good at making children laugh—but she had never actually said that aloud before.
There had never been a reason to. Now that she was standing here with Reeves, she found that it was something she wanted him to know—but that didn’t make it easier to pay herself a compliment.
It was still awkward, still something she felt like she shouldn’t be doing.
It was more polite, more courteous, to be humble, as he had said.
But he was still smiling at her. “I’m glad you’re good at that,” he said. “I’m glad Emma has someone in her life right now who knows how to cheer her up. It’s such a good thing for her. Have you dealt with children who didn’t speak before?”
“There was one a few months ago, a little boy,” she said. “Owen was his name.”
“What was the matter with him?”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure I want to tell you. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Why would I worry?” he asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to think that what’s going on with Emma is in any way similar, that’s all,” she said.
“This boy had been orphaned on the street for some time. He was starving when he came in. I mean, Emma did look as if she hadn’t been eating well for a while, but this was different.
Worrying. It took days before I could get him to eat a proper meal, much less start talking. ”
“Did he eventually start talking?” Reeves asked.
“He did. And it started just like this—with laughter,” Bridget said, feeling warm as she remembered what had happened.
“We were at dinner one night, and he had a potato, which he wasn’t eating.
I tried to convince him over and over to just take a bite, but he didn’t seem able to do it.
Finally—I don’t know what made me think of it—I started talking to him as if I were the potato.
I put on a funny voice, and I said, Please don’t eat me, Owen!
I’ll never forget the way I felt watching him start to smile, hearing that first laugh come out of his mouth…
” She sighed, remembering. “It was truly one of the most powerful experiences of my life, realizing that I had been able to break through the tension that child was carrying around.”
“And you think you’ll be able to do that again?” he asked. He’d stopped walking, and now he turned to face her. “Do you really think so? It would just mean the world to me to see her all right again.”
“I know,” Bridget said quietly. “Today was a very encouraging sign. Truly. I do think we’re going to see a lot of progress now, if we can just continue to be patient with her and let her come around in her own time.”
“Well, I can do that,” Reeves said. “But I feel like I should be doing more.” He looked down.
“That’s what’s so frustrating about all this, really.
I know you want me to wait. I know you don’t want me to demand answers.
I even understand why I shouldn’t do that.
But to just sit back and allow this to take as long as it’s going to take … ”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Bridget told him. “I’m confident of that.”
“But it’s maddening. I’m a man of action. I want to do something.” His hands balled into fists. “I want to fix this. The fact that the only way to fix it is to wait for it to fix itself… it drives me mad.”
“You’re doing more than that,” Bridget told him.
“You may not realize it, Reeves, but you’re doing a lot.
I know you want to take action in a way that’s big and dramatic.
You want to hunt down the person who took her from you.
Of course you want that. But actually, doing that isn’t going to bring Emma back to you, even if vengeance would feel good.
What will bring her back is doing things like we did today.
Quiet moments that let her feel safe once more, that give her a reason to trust that everything is all right.
Letting her laugh. That’s how we get her to come back to us.
It might feel like you’re not doing anything, but actually, you’re doing a great deal. ”
The tension left him slowly. His head hung, but then he peered up at her.
For the first time, Bridget found herself noticing how long his eyelashes were.
He had such a hard, manly face, but those lashes were the one point of softness within it, and they made her feel extraordinarily tender toward him.
Maybe that was why she found herself reaching out a hand to touch his arm.
It was a gesture so bold she shocked herself with it.
She would never have believed she would have done such a thing.
But then again, she wouldn’t have expected to leave the orphanage in the company of a man she hardly knew.
She wouldn’t have expected that she would come and live at his house for any duration of time.
After all that, touching his arm seemed like a small step to take.
But maybe it didn’t to him, because he looked up at her, his eyes growing wide.
She froze for a moment, uncertain as to what she should do, doubting herself—but she didn’t lower her hand.
It seemed important to let him know that she wasn’t going to pull away from him, that no matter how complex and difficult their situation became, she would be by his side.
The fact that he had confided in her about his desire to do something for Emma was powerful.
Meaningful. It meant that he was beginning to really trust her, in the same way that Emma’s laugh today had meant that she was starting to have trust again.
It’s a day for moving forward. It’s happening for everyone.
He took a step closer to her. “It’s been so wonderful having you here,” he murmured. “You see things I wouldn’t have been able to see on my own, Bridget. You’ve made all this so much easier already, for me and for Emma. And I know you’re just going to keep doing that.”
She breathed in sharply. What was happening?
His hand grazed her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed. He had been angry with her just a few short hours ago. He’d been unhappy about the fact that she was making him go to the picnic. And now…
I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he’s standing so close to me, why he’s touching my face… I don’t understand why my hand is still on his arm.
She didn’t understand, but she also didn’t want it to stop.
She found herself leaning forward, as though hoping to signal to him that she liked this strange, new touch, that she wanted it to continue. She hoped desperately that he wouldn’t pull away.
“Reeves? Are you out here?”
The sound of Agnes’ voice cut through the moment like a knife, and Reeves dropped his hand just in time. A moment later, Agnes appeared in the foyer.
“I wondered where you’d gone,” she said, thankfully seeming to take no notice of what was going on between Reeves and Bridget. “Emma is asking for you. She’s in the sitting room.”
“She’s asking for me?” Reeves’ eyebrows shot up. He whirled around.
Bridget, too, was startled into forgetting what had just taken place. “Is she speaking?” Could it have happened that quickly?
“Oh,” Agnes said. “No, I’m sorry. I meant she made another drawing and pointed to the picture of you, Reeves, and that’s how I know she wants you.”
Reeves’ face fell slightly, but he nodded. “Lead the way, then.”
The two of them left the foyer and went off toward the sitting room, leaving Bridget on her own. She raised a hand to her cheek.
That had all been so unexpected. Strange, yes… but in an odd way, it had been wonderful.
But the question remained, now that he was gone—what had either of them been thinking?