Chapter 4 #2
Laying a finger to the side of his nose, Mr. Waite winked at Ivy. “Since there’s no arrivals today, I’d best be getting back inside before the cold settles any deeper into these creaky bones.” With a cheery wave, he turned and tottered back to the depot.
Ivy stared after him and then down at the basket holding Brave. “Well, I must say, Sweetwater Springs is already proving more than I imagined.”
With a laugh, Cora hooked her arm through Ivy's, her eyes still bright with happy tears. “Oh, my dear friend.” She squeezed Ivy close. “Just you wait.”
Ignoring the chill from the glass, Torin stood at the window of his parlor, one hand on the log wall, watching for the arrival of his guests.
He had to forcibly stop himself from fidgeting and pacing out his anxious feelings.
When he was alone like this, the doubts about his decision crept in, making his fears weigh heavy and grow larger and darker and almost impossible to combat.
The lake loomed a deep olive-green, surrounded by occasional snow piles left from the storm about ten days ago. Several swans drifted close, probably searching for the aquatic greens that were their primary food source. Aside from what Jewel feeds them.
The hardiness of the trumpeters never failed to amaze him.
They looked too lovely to survive a Montana winter instead of heading south like more sensible birds.
At the far end of the lake was a small hot spring situated about a hundred yards away, trickling warm water into that bend. The swans congregated in that area.
Even in cold weather, Jewel loved taking a walk to find them and tossing out some bits of old bread, peas—from a jar this time of year—or the tops of root vegetables.
The swans swam closer to shore, perhaps looking for his daughter, and, after waiting in vain for the arrival of easy food, pecked at something green and slimy before swimming off to bide at the warmer end of the lake.
He glanced down the road to the left but saw no sign of his friends’ arrival with his houseguest.
What have I gotten myself into?
Cora must have mesmerized me, even as Dr. Angus terrified me. That was the only explanation Torin could find for the way he’d temporarily lost his wits and agreed to invite her friend, Ivy, to be Jewel’s governess. Else my wits have entirely gone a beggin’.
The truth was, in those moments of fear and hope, he’d written the invitation, not really believing Miss Jackson would agree. What young woman would want to leave the exciting city of New York to live in a small mountain valley, with only eight other people knowing of her existence?
Ivy Jackson, that’s who.
For days, he’d pretended nothing was changing, as if by putting the governess out of his mind, or, at least attempting to, he could pretend she didn’t exist, wasn’t about to upset the peace and safety of his carefully ordered life, and, worst of all, judge and condemn his precious Jewel like her mother and both their families had.
Too late to change my mind. The woman is already here.
Staying nice and snug in Brian’s cabin, where Cora had insisted her friend be allowed to bathe, eat a leisurely meal, and sleep the whole night through in a comfortable bed.
Only after breakfast would she and Brian bring Miss Jackson to meet him and Jewel.
I can always send her packing.
How can I do that when she’s traveled all this way? It wasn’t as if teaching jobs were available in Sweetwater Springs.
Well… Torin shrugged, feeling the tight suit jacket he wore pull at his shoulders. I can send her away and pay her salary.
Today, he’d dressed up in pre-Jewel finery—a suit that still fit him in the waist but was tight around his upper body. He removed a watch from his vest pocket and looked at the time. Only ten minutes later than when last he’d checked, and the time before, and even earlier.
The more the morning ticked by, the tighter the knot in his stomach coiled.
Torin hadn’t been able to touch a bite of food.
His daughter, of course, ate with a good appetite and now played in her room.
He could hear her talking to her doll about Brian and Cora’s visit.
He’d told her about Miss Jackson, but judging from the one-sided conversation, Jewel hadn’t understood.
How could she, when I’ve never before told her she was about to meet someone new? The concept is probably foreign.
At twelve, Jewel had grown too big to cradle in his arms, shielding her against his body.
Torin remembered holding his newborn close to his chest. The joy and awe at seeing her tiny, perfect face.
The pride that had filled him when he realized he was now a father.
In that moment, he’d promised her with all his heart to love and protect her with his life.
What if I’m making a mistake? Despite his rational mind telling him that he trusted Cora, and she wouldn’t recommend anyone who’d harm Jewel, he couldn’t help a nervous concern that behind a false front of kindness, her friend Ivy would prove to be as shallow and judgmental as Mary Beth.
He cocked his head, listening, as always, for his daughter’s presence in her bedroom.
He could hear her talking to her doll but couldn’t quite make out the words.
He’d told her Miss Cora had a friend, Miss Ivy, who was coming to stay with them, and she seemed to accept the news with her usual placidity.
But he’d never told her about newcomers before, so maybe she hadn’t completely understood.
To distract himself, Torin mentally went through his preparations. Fires burned in the porcelain stove in the parlor, the fireplace in the dining room, and both the fireplace and stove in the kitchen.
He always chopped far more wood than he needed, afraid if his house grew too cold, Jewel might become ill.
Therefore, he never stinted on heat. But usually, he only heated the parlor or dining room if they were going to use it.
In the winter, they spent most of their time in the kitchen.
Jewel’s bedroom was behind the kitchen, so the back of the brick fireplace provided some warmth.
The spare room was as welcoming as he, or really Cora, could make it.
Although Cora had been busy with her nursing work, she wrote him with plans and orders, almost like a quartermaster arranging supplies before his troops set off for war.
True to her word to handle all the details, she’d done the shopping, ordering everything through the mercantile.
Elsie had sewn curtains for the windows.
The one occasion Torin had seen Cora after she’d brought her friend’s acceptance was when she drove up with Hank and Brian, who’d rented a wagon from the livery. They’d brought up a bed and bedding, a mirror, chest of drawers, and enough food to feed an army.
She’d had him clean out the odds and ends stored in the spare room, while she ironed the wrinkled bedding, made the bed, hung the curtains, and lamented not having flowers to make a bouquet.
Torin had cleaned out or packed away the items from the former storage room, taking some things to the stable and moving the rest to the attic. He’d cleaned the house yesterday and baked oatmeal cookies. Nothing remained to be done. Everything was in readiness.
Except for me.
Finally, Torin saw the surrey heading in his direction. He wanted to press his nose to the cold glass and peer at the interloper, as if he could analyze her intentions from a distance. But lest he be caught staring, he moved away from the window, out of the parlor, and into the entryway.
After giving them enough time to exit the surrey, and judging they were close, Torin opened the door to see Cora carrying a battered leather satchel and Brian sauntering beside her with a wooden crate.
They were followed by the stranger, both hands possessively holding the handle of a covered basket.
Seemingly to mark the solemnity of the occasion, Cora and Brian entered without a word, moving to each side of the doorway to allow Miss Jackson to enter.
She stepped inside, vivid in a way that her black-and-white photograph hadn’t shown. Tall and slender, her brows and lashes were dark. Her eyes, a startling hazel, more brown than green, held intelligence and directness that gave a great deal of character to her pretty face.
Gobsmacked. He’d heard the British slang expression before but had never expected to feel anything of the sort. Frozen, he couldn’t move toward her. Couldn’t make his tight throat stutter out words of welcome.
With a slight smile curving the edges of her generous mouth, she took quick stock of Torin, her eyes widening.
She leaned back slightly before she composed her expression.
With a sweet smile, she went to her knees in front of his daughter and held up the basket, opening the top.
“Hello, Jewel. I’m Miss Ivy, and I’ve brought a kitty.
Her name is Brave.” She flicked Torin a quick, guilty glance. “I hope your papa doesn’t mind.”
Even if he did mind, which Torin didn’t know if he did, the damage was done. His daughter looked enthralled. Why did I never think to get her a kitten?
“You can pick her up,” the woman urged. “Just be gentle. Can you do that?”
“Bave. Kit-ty.”
With her free hand, Miss Jackson guided Jewel in scooping the cat out of the basket and clutching it to her chest.
The cat mewed but hung limp and complacent.
Torin studied the cat. Appallingly thin. Fuzzy black fur. Dark blue eyes. Appealing little critter. The tightness inside him relaxed a tad.
Cora moved to kneel at Miss Jackson’s side. “We gave her a bath last night, so you don’t have to worry about fleas.”
Up until that moment, Torin hadn’t thought about fleas. He shot the cat a worried glance.
Cora reached behind Miss Jackson’s back and playfully smacked Torin’s leg. “I said not to worry.”
Brian hefted the crate. “And I’ve brought a box that’s lined with sawdust to use as a privy. Where do you want me to put it?”
“Uh…” Torin could barely make his mind work and had to struggle to think through possible places. “Next to the back door.”
So many impressions tangled inside him. Pleasure at seeing Jewel happy, confounded by a cat, amazed by Brian’s eyes twinkling, twinkling in suppressed mirth, and worst of all, stunned by his attraction to his daughter’s governess.
When Brian returned, he grasped Torin’s arm and gave a slight pull.
“Let’s leave the ladies to watch over Jewel and Brave while we unload the trunks from the buggy.
We also brought a hefty basket of food. I think Cora secretly fears you’ll starve your new governess,” he quipped, “which you won’t.
” He elbowed Torin’s side. “Making Ivy unhappy will make my beloved unhappy, which will make me unhappy, and then I’ll have to make you unhappy, which would make Jewel unhappy, and I’d never want my sugar princess upset. ”
Torin just shook his head at his friend’s convoluted teasing.
Brian towed Torin out the door, not even allowing him to grab his coat.
When they got a few feet outside, Brian stopped and did a mock playful whew motion of his hand across his forehead. “Ah, man time! I’ve been exposed to more giggles and tears and excited talk, talk, talk. Happy female energy. I needed to escape for a few minutes and catch my breath.”
Loving Cora has changed you.
His formerly cantankerous friend had metamorphosized into a contented man. Torin hardly recognized his neighbor anymore, because a smile so often transformed his previously crabby countenance.
“I think you’re doing the right thing. Having this governess will be good, brother.” Brian laid a hand on Torin’s shoulder and squeezed. “I think Ivy’s going to be good for you and our precious darlin’.”
Torin took a deep breath. The cold air stuck in his throat, so he could only nod.
Brian lowered his arm. “I tell you, living with a woman takes some getting used to.”
“I’ve been married,” he said shortly.
“I know you were married.” Brian nudged Torin’s shoulder with his.
“But think about it. How much time did you and your wife actually spend together? You lived in a big house. You went about your day. She went about her day. You might see her at meals. Evenings. But here, unless we’re hunting, cutting ice, or something like that, we’re together most of the time in a small space. ”
Torin gave him a horrified look, never having imagined that situation.
Brian chuckled and smacked Torin’s arm. “You’ll get used to it, brother.”