Charlotte’s best friend.”
“I liked Charlotte right away,” Birdie said. “And I wanted to learn how to talk with my hands.”
At that moment Charlotte looked up to Emma for the first time.
Emma was moved by the lost expression in Charlotte’s green eyes. And she was fascinated as she watched how Birdie worked her hands, communicating with the quiet girl walking beside her. Emma suppressed the urge to hug Birdie and silently promised to be a good friend to this little sweetheart. “I’m glad you did, Birdie. I like Charlotte already and I like you, too.”
Birdie smiled up at her as she evidently signed to Charlotte what Emma had said. Charlotte almost smiled.
Suddenly Emma realized that somehow Mason was slipping past her carefully constructed defenses. He was kind. Generous. And not hard to look at, either. Blushing, she quickened her step, hurrying them as much as was polite.
Another question niggled at Emma. Should she ask it? Yes, it would distract her from her awareness of him and not give him time to turn the conversation to “them.”
“So you were allowed to adopt both girls?”
“That was what caused the further delay in my returning,” Mason said. “Mrs. Hawkins questioned me about my qualifications to take charge of my little sister. Which wasn’t surprising since she didn’t know me.”
“Of course,” Emma murmured. A blue jay sounded its raucous song as if jeering at her, trapped in this uncomfortable situation, talking politely to a man she had agreed to marry but no longer wished to.
“I told her I was homesteading in Pepin, Wisconsin. That’s when she said her childhood friend, Noah Whitmore, was also homesteading in Pepin.”
“She knew Noah Whitmore?”
“Yes, they grew up going to the same Quaker meeting in Pennsylvania. And she decided to write to him to gain a character reference for me.”
“It’s amazing how God orchestrates matters.” Emma believed this, yet felt the old tug of disappointment. She’d prayed fervently for her fiancé Jonathan to survive the war. But evidently God had denied her request. Someday she hoped she could accept that with peace. She drew in a slow breath, wishing the brittle feeling around her heart would leave her.
“I suppose,” he said.
His uncertain tone caught her attention. What disappointment had he sustained? She brushed away this sudden sympathy and went on. “Since you are here with your girls, Noah Whitmore must’ve given you a good character reference.”
“I am very grateful for my girls.” Mason glanced with obvious affection at the two little ones.
The paternal glance softened her resistance again. She would have to be careful around this man, so as not to mislead him. She’d given all her love to Jonathan and she had nothing more to give.
“Some man kilt Charlotte’s mama and she couldn’t hear no more,” Birdie said. “The doctor say she ’sterical deaf.”
Shocked, Emma glanced at Mason. Was this true?
His jawline had tightened.
Emma could tell he did not like this being spoken of. And she didn’t blame him. “Bad things happen in this world,” she commented, trying to bring the uncomfortable topic to an end.
The little girl nodded solemnly and began to sign to Charlotte.
Without looking at Emma, Mason said, “Birdie, please don’t sign what I’m going to say now to Charlotte. It upsets her when people talk about it.” Then he did look at Emma. “The doctor called Charlotte’s condition hysterical deafness. He said he couldn’t find anything wrong with the structure of her ears, inside or out. We fear that Charlotte’s mother was murdered and perhaps Charlotte witnessed it. That’s what Mrs. Hawkins was told by the person who brought Charlotte to the orphanage.” He appeared to want to say more but he didn’t.
The hair on the nape of Emma’s neck prickled at the horror this sweet little girl might have witnessed. Emma completed his thought. “I will not speak of this.”
“I think it’s best for the girls if we don’t. People somehow transfer what a person’s family has suffered to them—as if they have been judged, as Mrs. Ashford said.” He glanced downward. “Will you remember that, Birdie?” he asked gently.
“Yes, sir!” Birdie said. “I only said it ’cause I can see Miss Emma is a fine lady.”
This uncomfortable conversation ended as they turned the bend and ahead lay her sister’s farm. Judith was doing laundry in the shade of an old oak tree beside the cabin.
“Judith!” Emma called out with sincere relief. “You’ll never guess who this is!” Emma made an attempt at teasing, trying to lighten the moment. She hoped Judith’s husband, Asa, would appear and relieve her of Mason Chandler. She wanted to be alone to sort out her unexpected reactions to him. Or better yet, talk it over with Judith in private.
* * *
Hoping to distance himself from Emma, Mason wished Asa Brant would appear and he could claim his livestock and then head on to his place. He wanted to be alone to sort out his unforeseen response to Miss Emma Jones. But he glued a smile onto his face and pulled up all his reserves of courtesy.
Emma led him toward Asa’s wife, who appeared flustered at his finding her in the midst of the weekly chore. Of course, he knew she was Emma’s twin sister, but they did not favor one another. Judith had brown hair and eyes to match, and possessed none of Emma’s startling beauty.
Then blessedly, the familiar tall and tanned, dark-haired Asa Brant stepped out of his barn. His face lifted into a welcoming smile and he hurried forward, his hand outstretched.
Emma continued on toward her sister.
Dropping the baggage, Mason gripped Asa’s hand, once again grateful to find another person who remained a friend—so far. “I’m just on my way home and wanted to stop and get my cattle. I hear I have a calf.”
“Yes, both of us increased our cattle this spring.” Asa beamed.
“Asa, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of them. I’ll pay you back—”
“Not a word about that.” Asa forestalled him with an upraised hand. “What are friends for?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Mason glimpsed another little girl, a blonde about Charlotte’s age, who had come out of Asa’s cabin and who was staring at his two little girls. Then he noted a boy with shaggy brown hair around eight or nine years old standing near the barn door.
Mason paused, wondering who they were.
“Before we take care of the cows, I need to introduce you to my wife. Or, I should say, my family,” Asa said with obvious pride. Asa led Mason to the woman who was now his wife, standing near the little girl. And the little boy hurried to Asa’s side. Asa rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Acute envy caught around Mason’s heart. If he hadn’t been called away, he would be settled now with Emma as his wife. He
