gentleman left, only to return shortly with a board, affixed to which was a grouping of grasshoppers, carefully labeled and arranged by size.
In the course of their visit, Ry managed to slip in a few questions of his own about the Wylie household. He found the answers enlightening.
The older man left no doubt that Cora Beth was the domestic center of this household, fussing over everyone like a mother hen, keeping them well fed, clothed and healthy. But there was another thread running through the conversation, offhand references to Josie, that strengthened Ry’s perception that she was the glue holding them together, the one they looked to for direction. A very capable woman with a lot of heart.
Like the way she’d listened to him talk about Belle this morning. There’d been a moment of connection then, as if…
No, he was imagining things. It was just that they’d been through something intense together, that was all.
Which reminded him…
Ry penciled a note and had Uncle Grover promise to take it to the telegraph office. Assuming Griff followed his instructions, that would take care of one of the debts he owed Josie, whether she wanted repayment or not.
Shortly after Uncle Grover left, Cora Beth brought Ry his lunch. To his relief, instead of another serving of broth, it wasa hearty bowl of rabbit stew. She offered to stay and help him eat, but Ry assured her he was capable of feeding himself.
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling stronger today. Call me if you need anything else.” She flashed a teasing smile. “After lunch you’d better rest up while you can. When Danny and Audrey get home from school they’ll be wanting to pester you some more.”
“I don’t mind their company,” Ry assured her. And he meant it. The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone with his own thoughts.
But the early afternoon hours drew out interminably.
He pushed aside thoughts of Belle and his failure to reach her. What’s done was done, and all the guilt in the world wouldn’t change it. There were still questions to be answered, but those would have to wait until tomorrow.
It would be more productive to focus on resolving issues he still had control over. Like figuring out the answer to the question Josie had asked him.
Where did he call home?
It was a question that had begun to niggle at him with increasing frequency since his father’s death two years ago. He’d never intended to spend his life in Philadelphia, had always figured he’d return to Texas someday to open a law practice of his own. Somehow, though, the time had never seemed quite right.
Perhaps now it was.
Ry moved his injured arm, trying to ease into a more comfortable position. And realized he was no longer alone.
Two identical pairs of eyes stared up at him from the foot of his bed. “Hello.”
“Hello,” they answered in unison.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
Two pigtail-adorned heads nodded.
“And what might that be?”
One of the girls moved to the side of the bed where he could get a better look at her. She was closely followed by her sister, who kept both hands behind her back.
“Lottie needs a hero,” the first child, obviously Pippa, proclaimed solemnly.
Uh-oh. This did not sound good. Why were they coming to him for help instead of their mother? He had absolutely no experience with children—especially ones in crisis. “And just why does Lottie need a hero?” he asked cautiously.
Lottie moved her hands forward, revealing one fist stuck inside a preserve jar. “It won’t come off,” she said, her voice ending on a sniffle.
Please, Lord, don’t let her start crying, at least not before I can get her mother in here. “Does it hurt?” He kept his voice calm, hoping it would help soothe the child.
She shook her head, another sniffle escaping.
No pain—that was good. “Well, then, there’s no reason to fret. We’ll just get your mother to—”
“Oh, no!” Pippa shook her head violently.
In the course of their visit, Ry managed to slip in a few questions of his own about the Wylie household. He found the answers enlightening.
The older man left no doubt that Cora Beth was the domestic center of this household, fussing over everyone like a mother hen, keeping them well fed, clothed and healthy. But there was another thread running through the conversation, offhand references to Josie, that strengthened Ry’s perception that she was the glue holding them together, the one they looked to for direction. A very capable woman with a lot of heart.
Like the way she’d listened to him talk about Belle this morning. There’d been a moment of connection then, as if…
No, he was imagining things. It was just that they’d been through something intense together, that was all.
Which reminded him…
Ry penciled a note and had Uncle Grover promise to take it to the telegraph office. Assuming Griff followed his instructions, that would take care of one of the debts he owed Josie, whether she wanted repayment or not.
Shortly after Uncle Grover left, Cora Beth brought Ry his lunch. To his relief, instead of another serving of broth, it wasa hearty bowl of rabbit stew. She offered to stay and help him eat, but Ry assured her he was capable of feeding himself.
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling stronger today. Call me if you need anything else.” She flashed a teasing smile. “After lunch you’d better rest up while you can. When Danny and Audrey get home from school they’ll be wanting to pester you some more.”
“I don’t mind their company,” Ry assured her. And he meant it. The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone with his own thoughts.
But the early afternoon hours drew out interminably.
He pushed aside thoughts of Belle and his failure to reach her. What’s done was done, and all the guilt in the world wouldn’t change it. There were still questions to be answered, but those would have to wait until tomorrow.
It would be more productive to focus on resolving issues he still had control over. Like figuring out the answer to the question Josie had asked him.
Where did he call home?
It was a question that had begun to niggle at him with increasing frequency since his father’s death two years ago. He’d never intended to spend his life in Philadelphia, had always figured he’d return to Texas someday to open a law practice of his own. Somehow, though, the time had never seemed quite right.
Perhaps now it was.
Ry moved his injured arm, trying to ease into a more comfortable position. And realized he was no longer alone.
Two identical pairs of eyes stared up at him from the foot of his bed. “Hello.”
“Hello,” they answered in unison.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
Two pigtail-adorned heads nodded.
“And what might that be?”
One of the girls moved to the side of the bed where he could get a better look at her. She was closely followed by her sister, who kept both hands behind her back.
“Lottie needs a hero,” the first child, obviously Pippa, proclaimed solemnly.
Uh-oh. This did not sound good. Why were they coming to him for help instead of their mother? He had absolutely no experience with children—especially ones in crisis. “And just why does Lottie need a hero?” he asked cautiously.
Lottie moved her hands forward, revealing one fist stuck inside a preserve jar. “It won’t come off,” she said, her voice ending on a sniffle.
Please, Lord, don’t let her start crying, at least not before I can get her mother in here. “Does it hurt?” He kept his voice calm, hoping it would help soothe the child.
She shook her head, another sniffle escaping.
No pain—that was good. “Well, then, there’s no reason to fret. We’ll just get your mother to—”
“Oh, no!” Pippa shook her head violently.
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