Around the bend was what was left of a burned crofter’s cottage, most of the roof collapsed, only one corner standing.
“No, Kit,” Miles said when his son started to enter the ruin. Heavy, charred beams slanted from the one standing wall to the ground. “Let me test it first.”
Elizabeth and Kit stood together while Miles grabbed one beam after another and swung his weight on it. A few bits of dirt came falling down but the beams held.
“It seems safe enough,” Miles said as Kit ran inside the structure and began looking into crevices.
Miles took Elizabeth’s arm. “Let’s walk up the hill because, if I’m not mistaken, I think those are apple trees.”
There was a small orchard on top of the hill and most of the trees were dead, but there were about a dozen scrawny, nearly ripe apples hanging from some of the branches. As Elizabeth reached for one of them, Miles’s arm slid about her waist and lifted her. She caught the apple and he slowly lowered her, the front of her body sliding down his. His lips had just reached hers when Kit called out.
“Look what I found, Papa.”
Elizabeth turned away to smile at Kit. “What is it?”
With a dramatic sigh, Miles set Elizabeth down.
“It’s a swing!” Kit yelled.
“So it is,” Miles said, holding Elizabeth’s hand. He grabbed the ropes of the swing and gave them a couple of sharp jerks. “Let me see how high you can go,” he said to his son.
Elizabeth and Miles stood back as Kit took over the swing, using it in an aggressive way to propel himself upward until his feet touched a tree branch.
“He’ll hurt himself,” Elizabeth said, but Miles caught her arm.
“Now show Elizabeth what you can do.”
She gasped as Kit, still swinging very high, pulled his legs up and stood in the swing.
“Now!” Miles commanded, his arms open wide.
To Elizabeth’s disbelief, Kit sent his small body flying through the air and into Miles’s arms. As Kit screamed with delight, Elizabeth felt her knees weaken.
Miles put his son down and caught her arm. “Elizabeth, what’s wrong? It was only a child’s game. When I was Kit’s age, I used to jump into my father’s arms in just the same way.”
“But if you stepped away…” she began.
“Stepped away!” He was aghast. “And let Kit fall?” He pulled her into his arms, soothing her. “Did no one play with you as a child?” he asked quietly.
“My parents died soon after I was born. Edmund was my guardian.”
That simple statement said a great deal to Miles. He pulled her away to look at her. “Now we shall make up for your lack of a childhood. Get in the swing and I’ll push you.”
She was glad to put away her memories of Edmund and she went readily to the swing.
“I will, Papa,” Kit said, pushing the wooden bottom of the swing and not making much progress. “She’s too heavy,” Kit whispered loudly.
“Not for me.” Miles laughed, kissed Elizabeth’s ear and took the ropes. “Wipe it away, Elizabeth,” he said as he pulled her far back off the ground.
“I can’t now, but I will,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Miles released her and she went flying. Every time she returned, he gave her a push on her bottom instead of the swing’s and all Elizabeth did was laugh. Her skirt went up to her knees, she kicked off her shoes and stretched her legs out.
“Jump, Elizabeth!” Kit commanded.
“I’m too heavy, remember?” she teased, laughing.
Miles stood to the side of her. The more time he spent with her, the more beautiful she grew. Her head was back and she was laughing as he’d never seen her laugh before.