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“Because you’re a girl.” Cymbeline scrunched her face into a scowl. “We have to bow down in gratitude simply for being allowed the chance to work for free.”

“Cymbeline.” Fiona’s lashes fluttered as she chastised her sister. “Be nice.”

“I don’t want to be nice,” Cymbeline said. “I want to do things. Be someone important. Not push out babies for the rest of my life.”

“I do understand,” Poppy said. “However, the reality is it’s harder for a woman to do much besides be a mother, nurse, or teacher.”

“Was it awful for you?” I asked.

“Did Miller treat you poorly?” Fiona asked.

“I hope you gave it right back to him,” Cymbeline said.

Poppy grinned. “Let’s just say the first time he saw me tame a wild colt, he stopped muttering about training a girl. From then on, he wasn’t friendly but respectful.”

“You could teach him a thing or two about horses,” Cymbeline said.

“He knew the insides of horses,” Poppy said. “But I know their souls and what they respond to best.”

“I’m proud of you,” I said, squeezing her hand. “What an accomplishment.”

“Now, tell me what’s been going on here,” Poppy said. “What have I missed?”

My sisters started rattling off answers one after the other.

“Jo has a beau,” Fiona said.

“And has stopped moping around after that awful Walter,” Cymbeline said. “Who turned out to be a fraud.”

“We’re having a party with a lot of cake,” Delphia said.

“The party’s for the Cassidys,” Fiona said. “They’re having a hard time and Jo’s arranged for a party to raise funds so they won’t lose their farm.”

“Phillip made a pretty table,” Addie said. “And the twins are opening a ski area where you go down a hill really fast on wood sticks.”

“My goodness, I’ve missed a lot,” Poppy said. “But let’s start with Jo’s beau.” She turned to me. “Tell me everything.”

Phillip

A routine developed to my days, making time gather speed. In the mornings, the twins and I set out together to the Cassidys’ farm. After a few days, with the help of Viktor and Isak, we finished the roof of the barn. The rest of the week was spent doing additional repairs and other chores. In the late afternoons, Josephine arrived in the small sleigh so that I could drive us home. These excursions served two purposes. One, my driving was improving, as was my kissing of Josephine. Two, we talked, laughed and always stopped at our spot by the creek for a few kisses.

With each passing day, my feelings for her deepened. I wanted desperately to marry Josephine Barnes. But what could I offer her? I didn’t have my own home. Thus far, I only had one paying customer for my furniture. Pastor Lind had asked for a new pulpit, one worthy of his growing congregation. As I worked on the piece in the late afternoons and into the evening, it became clearer to me just what a daunting task opening my own shop would be. It might take years.

“What is it?” Josephine put her fingers against her mouth, as if worried she’d done something wrong. “Something’s troubling you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m thinking about the future. Our future.”

“What about it?”

“Do you see us having a future together?”

She looked up to meet my gaze, grazing my cheekbone with her fingertips. “I think you know the answer to that. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t.”

“I’ve no home to offer you. And an uncertain future.”

“When the time comes, Papa will help us.”

“What sort of man would that make me?” I searched her face for answers, but the thin wintery light cast shadows. I couldn’t quite make out her expression.


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical