Love's First Light by Jamie Carie Page B

she grasped his hand and squeezed it in warning.
    Christophé’s deep chuckle filled the room. The women all paused to hear the sound, for it had been too long since a man was about the place.
    They sat down to the laden table. Stacia reached out for the hands on either side of her and bowed her head. They all followed suit.
    “Dearest Lord,” Stacia began. “Thank You for Your bountiful goodness in this food and this company. Thank You for new friends and for loved ones that we will not forget. Thank You for Your provision as we travel to Paris and to meet our . . .” She paused, and Scarlett heard the emotion clogging her sister’s throat. “Our destiny. Thank You for Your care and love and fortitude in all our wanderings. Thank You for Christophé—I don’t know his surname Lord, but we thank You for Christophé. Amen.”
    There were boiled eels and quail in a lemon sauce, vegetables, hard to find this time of year, and fresh-baked bread still steaming as Suzanne took away the cloth and passed the basket. Then they brought out dumplings swimming in chicken broth with bits of chicken. There was so much. It was like a Christmas feast really, and Scarlett didn’t know how they had done it. There wasn’t that much in the cupboards; it had all just come together.
    After dinner they gathered in the sitting room.
    Scarlett’s mother inclined her head to Christophé as they settled into their chairs. “I am sorry we haven’t a bottle of sherry or anything to offer. I’m afraid the times have affected us as well.”
    “No need to apologize, madam. I am thankful for such a wonderful meal. It has been a long time since I’ve had such a good time among friends.”
    His deep voice was filled with a sadness that struck Scarlett’s heart. She wanted more than anything to reach out to him, but knew she couldn’t. Instead she lowered her gaze to her lap. “For us too.”
    Stacia, bright as always, stood suddenly and gasped. “Music! That is what we need.”
    They all looked at her, and she waved her hands and hurried up the stairs.
    “Whatever can she be about?”
    Scarlett could tell from her mother’s tone that, though she smiled, she was a bit embarrassed. “If I know Stacia, she has something in mind.” Scarlett smiled at Christophé.
    “Resourceful, is she?”
    “Oh. That’s the least of it,” Scarlett assured.
    They laughed and sipped their coffee until Stacia descended the stairs, a porcelain box in her hands. Scarlett smiled at her sister. It was a grand idea!
    On the bottom stair, though, Stacia tripped. In trying to regain her balance, the music box flew from her hands and landed in the middle of them. It bounced, broke, and then landed at Christophé’s feet. He slowly lifted the pieces into his cupped hands.
    “Oh!” Stacia’s face was white. “Father gave that to me.”
    She looked ready to burst into tears. Scarlett rose, a slow and awkward movement in her hurry. “We will fix it.”
    She looked to Christophé, whose eyes told her all she needed to know.
    He would keep her promise to her sister.
    Christophé studied the box. The workings of soldered metal fell out of the broken porcelain into his hands. He worked the gears and the key to test it, made sure that the mechanics were sound, and then set the metal piece back into the base of creamy white. With a few more maneuvers with his fingers, he had the thing put back together. Only the porcelain was cracked. He turned the key a time or two with a neat twist of his wrist, then held the box out in his palms.
    Tinkling music filled the air. The three women around him breathed a collective sigh of relief. He couldn’t help his grin. “The box can be fixed. The rest of the piece is sound.”
    They didn’t speak. Just gazed at him as though he were their savior. Then they all rested back into their chairs and let the tinkling of the song fill the room.
    After the last notes fell away, Stacia said with a gleam in her eyes, “Did you know, sir,