The Proposal by Lori Wick Page A

optimistically, even as she prayed that Thomas or James would make an appearance. She had seen very early in the visit that Penny was attached to her brothers and believed they could help in any situation. Instead, she got the next best thing. Her own brother appeared, Palmer at his side, and went directly to Penny.
    “What is it, Penny?” Jennings asked, taking a seat to be on her level. “Are you hurt?”
    “No, I need Mr Pat.”
    “Where is he?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, let’s think a moment. Did you have him at breakfast?”
    Penny nodded, looking miserable.
    “Could he still be in the dining room?”
    “No.” Emma shared this news. “He was here just a little while ago.”
    “And you’ve played right here the whole time?” Lydia asked.
    “We went to the garden to get some flowers,” Lizzy told her mother, “but we came right back.”
    “Which means he could be many places,” Jennings said quietly.
    Before Penny could look too stricken, Palmer gave an order. “All right, girls, spread out and start looking.”
    “Come on, Penny,” Lizzy, the youngest of the group, said as she took her hand. “We’ll help you find him.”
    Companionable as ever, the girls began their search. It did not escape Jennings’ notice that Palmer and Lydia did not join in. He had been ready to help but then stood in indecision.
    “Is it not a good idea to help them?” he asked as soon as the little girls headed back toward the garden and out of earshot.
    Palmer answered, “It’s not being uncaring, Jennings, but if they can work this out for themselves, that would be best.”
    Jennings looked skeptical, and Lydia questioned him. “You don’t agree, Jennings?”
    “I don’t know. Mr Pat is not just any toy. He belonged to her mother.”
    Jennings found the Palmers smiling at him.
    “You find it amusing?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice.
    “Not in the least. We’ve just never seen you so concerned about anyone.”
    Jennings turned to see Penny outside.
    “I do see your point, Palmer, but Penny has had enough losses,” he said quietly before calmly moving to join the search.

    “I lost Mr Pat today,” Penny said quietly to Thomas that night. The girls had invited her to sleep in their room—they did this every night—and Penny had wanted to, but not tonight. Tonight she needed to tell Thomas about her day.
    Thomas, who had been readying for bed and thought Penny was already asleep, went to her side.
    “But you had him at dinner, Penny.”
    “Yes, we found him, but he was lost.”
    Thomas heard the quiver in her voice and reached to smooth her small brow.
    “Mr Jennings found him for me. He was on a wall in the garden.”
    “I’m glad, Penny. Did you thank him?”
    Penny bit her lip. She only remembered wanting to cry harder than ever when at last she felt the figurine in her hand.
    Thomas suddenly wondered if it was wrong for her to be so attached to a small porcelain figure. He believed his father could have given him an answer, but he didn’t let his mind wander too far that way. Thomas was still wrestling with the idea when Mr Jennings knocked and entered.
    “Everyone settled in?” he asked, his eyes scanning the occupants of the room with just one lantern turned low.
    “Almost,” Thomas said as he stood, taking a moment to look back at Penny. “You can thank him now if you need to.”
    Penny’s dark head nodded against the white pillow.
    “Mr Jennings? she said quietly.
    “Yes, Penny.” He came that way.
    “Thank you for finding Mr Pat.”
    “You’re welcome. He isn’t broken, is he?”
    “No. His ear broke one time, and Papa fixed it.”
    Jennings had no clue what to say to this, so he only smiled and stood.
    Penny, not able to see his face in the dim light, just watched as he moved away. For some reason she wanted to cry again. She couldn’t have said why, but she watched with great relief as Mr Jennings quietly left and the room finally became dark. She turned her