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I had an idea. It couldn’t be as much as I’d looked forward to seeing him.

As we bumped along the dirt road, a cloud of dust behind us, Fiona caught James up on the happenings of the Barnes family. The older twins, Bleu and Beaumont, were fifteen and had grown into tall, muscular young men. Neither of them had any interest in music but loved academics. In addition, they were athletic like my sister Cymbeline and her husband, Viktor. Winters were spent skiing and summers swimming or hiking through the woods. They were fluent in English now with only a trace of their French accents. Traces the girls in town swooned over.

The little boys were musical like their parents, always singing, and had already begun lessons on the piano. Although many people couldn’t tell them apart, I had no trouble at all. Alexander was like his namesake, my papa, adventurous and mischievous with eyes that twinkled. James, named after James West, of course, was quieter and more cerebral.

“They’re getting into all kinds of mischief,” Fiona said to James now. “Mostly Alexander. He reminds me, God forbid, of Flynn.”

“How are Bleu and Beaumont?” James asked.

“They’re rascals,” Fiona said. “Sometimes I wonder if I was too young when I became their mother. They’re as wild as these mountains. The lost little boys we knew are no longer.”

“Praise God,” James said. He’d been there when Fiona and Li had found the twins living homeless on the streets of Paris.

“Cym and Viktor are doing well,” Fiona said. “Their little girls are darling.” She sighed. “And smell so nice all the time.”

Cymbeline, the tomboy of our family, had surprised us all by having two girls one after the other. The first, Annie, had come soon after Fiona and Li had returned from Paris. She favored her father, with reddish-blond hair and his light Nordic eyes. She was soon to have her sixth birthday. Holly had come right before Christmas the next year. Our miracle, as there was a snowstorm that night and Theo and Louisa hadn’t been able to make it to help with the birth. Viktor had delivered her himself. Holly looked like Cym and Fiona, fair but with dark curls and blue eyes. Oddly enough, Cymbeline seemed to have adjusted fine to having girls. Because the children were all so close in age, Fiona and Cym were second mothers to the other’s children. On any given day, the kids were in and out of the two houses, built only a half acre apart. They loved it that way. So did I, as I adored them all.

We were pulling up to my parents’ home by then. The late June flowers and shrubs were in full bloom, including the rhododendrons in their pink glory. Bees traveled from one honeysuckle flower to another. Fiona claimed she could hear the insects buzzing this time of year.

She parked in the front and turned off the car. She looked over at James with a sweet smile. “Mr. West, we’re glad you’re back where you belong.”

He gazed back at her with a serious expression on his handsome face. “Do you really think I belong here?”

“You belong wherever you want to be,” Fiona said. “And if it’s here with us, then I’m delighted.”

Before anything else could be said, Delphia came running out the front door to greet us. She may have looked like a pink-cheeked porcelain doll, but she was tough and fast, like Cym. Like our older sister, she ran on high speed all of the time, until she crashed into bed at night and slept so hard I had to shake her awake in the morning.

“Goodness gracious, is it my best girl?” James called out as he exited the car.

Delphia threw herself into his arms. “Oh, James, we thought you’d never get here. We’re all terribly excited, and the time was going slow, slow, slow. Like we were stuck in molasses.”

He held her by the shoulders for a moment. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re all grown up. It’s broken my heart, if you must know.”

She grinned, her pink cheeks rounding like crab tree apples. “I’m a young lady now, James. I have heaps of beaux. Or, they want to be, at any rate. I’m unable to like any of them.”

“But why?” He put his hand on his heart. “They must be heartbroken.”

“I don’t like any of them much. I’m waiting formyViktor—a man just like him is what I want.”

“That’s going to be hard, isn’t it?” James asked, eyes dancing.

“I refuse to compromise,” Delphia said. “I’m holding out for true love.”

“A worthy goal.” James laughed as he gazed down at Delphia with obvious fondness. “But you’re only sixteen. You’ve plenty of time.”

By now, Mama and Papa had come out to greet their guest. Mama, in a white linen dress, looked as fresh as a daisy. Her brown eyes shone as she reached out to James. “James, it’s wonderful to see you. We’ve missed you so.”

He kissed her hand. “I’ve missed you all as well. There’s much to discuss.” He turned to Papa. “Thank you for having me, Lord Barnes.”

“Dear boy, you must stop calling me that,” Papa said. “It’s Alexander or Papa to family.” He and James had the same accent, having come from the same part of England. Very posh and noble, I always thought.

“Come in for tea, darlings,” Mama said. “We can catch up properly before dinner.”

I hung back, enjoying the sight of James walking into the house with my family. If only he would stay forever.

2

JAMES


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical