When she slogged into the courtyard of the château, Bebe thought she was one step away from death. All she wanted was to get upstairs and crawl into bed. It would take hours to get warm. Maybe she’d never be warm again. But instead of running ahead she looked Reuben square in the eye and asked, “Do you need me to help carry the greenery inside?”
Reuben was about to say yes until he saw the look on Daniel’s face. “No, you did your share. Go inside and get warm. Later you can help string the garlands and decorate the tree.”
Mickey felt herself swoon at the look on Bebe’s face—unbelieving, then relieved, and finally transformed by a warm, wonderful smile. She was beautiful, all rosy cheeks and windblown hair.
An hour later Bebe was submerged in a tub of hot water. Nothing in her life had ever felt as good as the warmth that caressed every inch of her flesh.
Daniel sat on his bed, patiently waiting his turn in the bathroom. He toyed with the idea of knocking on Bebe’s door and…saying what? That Reuben was…Again he felt at a loss. What exactly was Reuben? Possessive, protective? Would Bebe understand that? Probably not; he wasn’t even sure he understood what he was thinking. He pictured Bebe in her room crying her eyes out. And here he sat, caught in the middle.
Bebe needed some kind of support, but how was it going to look to Reuben if he took sides? Reuben, he knew, would consider it a betrayal on his part if he got too close to the girl. Before Bebe’s arrival, the three of them had agreed that she was to be his companion and study along with him while Mickey and Reuben were busy with the wineries. Now, it seemed, that was changing.
Be Bebe’s friend but don’t get involved? Bullshit! If today was any indication of what things were going to be like, he would have to get involved. Out there in the snow he’d felt like crying for the girl. If he’d had his way, he would have slung her over his shoulder and carried her back.
She was certainly plucky, she’d proved it again today. In some ways she reminded him of Jake. How many times Jake had admonished him. Don’t let them see you cry, don’t ever let them see you cry—if you do, you’re lost. The words brought back memories—and, as usual, the one that stayed with him was the one he wished to forget….
It was autumn, and all the leaves were like burnished gold, and the pumpkins were ripe in the field behind the orphanage. Jake had taken him by the hand and said they would snitch a little pumpkin for Bennie and Stevie, two five-year-olds who slept next to them in the dormitory. Daniel hated the idea of snitching but knew the little boys would love the pumpkin. They were halfway across the dry field when they saw an injured sparrow. They forgot about the pumpkin then, and it wasn’t until later that Daniel ran back and grabbed the first one he saw, a tall, spindly one that was lopsided and without a stem. Stevie and Bennie never noticed.
Jake had big hands, bigger than his own, and they’d been so gentle with the tiny sparrow. “He can’t fly. And if he can’t fly, he can’t be free,” Jake said with ten-year-old logic. “That makes him like us. We aren’t free either.” They tried everything to patch up the little bird, but his wing was so tiny and they didn’t have a knife to whittle a splint. They fed him crumbs soaked in milk for two days, and when they returned on the third day, the sparrow was lying on its side, its legs straight in the air. It was the first time he and Jake had seen death. He remembered crying, long and hard. Jake hadn’t cried, but his eyes were wet. “We have to bury him,” Jake said, “or some wild animal will eat the body.” So they scooped out a hole in the ground with their bare hands and covered the bird with leaves before piling the dirt on top of it. He’d kept right on crying, not caring what Jake said about not letting anyone see. At last Jake had put his arm around him, and they’d walked back to the orphanage together. Jake cared, but Jake was tough.
Bebe was like Jake, Daniel decided, tough on the outside, where it counted, and soft on the inside. He made up his mind to be Bebe’s friend the way Jake had been his friend. If his friendship got in the way of his feelings for Reuben, he’d figure something out—but not until he had to.
As he trotted down the hall for his turn in the bathroom, Daniel felt about 110 years old.
When Bebe finally came downstairs hours later, she felt weak as a newborn kitten and wanted only to sleep. But she wouldn’t give Reuben Tarz the satisfaction of lacing into her again. She’d force her eyes to stay open, eat dinner, and help with the garlands. One way or another, she’d get through the evening in grand style.
And she did. Dinner that evening was actually one of the more pleasant meals she’d attended since her arrival at the château. Reuben seemed to be particularly polite and hospitable; when he addressed her directly she was so surprised she almost fell off her chair. She could feel herself flush, and she stammered like a little girl trying to please, knowing she was making a bad job of it. Reuben looked amused until he noticed Daniel glowering across the table. Then, for his friend’s sake, he did his best to stifle the dislike he felt for Bebe.
“Mickey, why don’t we wait till tomorrow to hang the garlands? I think we’re all tired this evening. That cold air was brutal. If Daniel’s eyes feel anything like mine, we should be resting with compresses.”
“I think tomorrow will be fine. Let’s schedule our decorating for midafternoon so Bebe and I can shop in the village.” Mickey smiled warmly around the table, knowing everyone would be in agreement. The trip to the fields in the biting cold had done her in, too. “Tonight there will be hot chocolate instead of coffee, and then we’ll retire. I think we’ve all earned a good night’s rest.”
Bebe was so relieved she wouldn’t have to struggle through the evening, she almost cried. She looked up to find Reuben staring at her directly. Flustered, she knocked over her wineglass, and in her attempt to mop it up she spilled her water. This time the tears erupted. “It’s your fault,” she screamed at Reuben. “If you wouldn’t stare at me like that, I wouldn’t have spilled the wine. You’re so damn spooky, you scare me!” She pushed back her chair and ran up the stairs, with Daniel right behind her.
“Chéri, were you staring at the child?” Mickey asked softly.
“I guess I was, but I wasn’t seeing her, if you know what I mean. I think she’s overtired. Aren’t young girls usually nervous and irritable every so often?”
Mickey laughed, a rueful sound that did not go unnoticed by Reuben. “I suppose so, but it’s been a long time since I was a young girl. I’m sure tomorrow will be better for all of us. Bebe is excited about our shopping trip. She said she has something special she wants to get Daniel. So special, she said, his eyes will light up with happiness. What do you think it could be?”
A small stab of jealousy flashed through Reuben. Bebe was going to get his friend something that would make his eyes light with happiness. Only a book could do that. He chuckled inwardly. He was getting a pocket watch for Daniel, a real Swiss timepiece with his initials and the date engraved by a friend of Mickey’s. What could that spoiled brat give Daniel that would be better than his own gift? It had to be a book. After you read a book, you either memorized it or you forgot it. A timepiece was forever.
Reuben forced his mind back to the present. “I thought you said you were finished with shopping,” he teased.
Mickey leaned back in her chair. “One is never done. Please, you must give me a clue to the present you and Daniel got me. I have never seen such secrecy. Just one little hint?”
“Nope. You give me a hint about mine,” Reuben countered playfully.
“Absolutely not. It wouldn’t be a surprise
