momma.”
“How did he lose his momma?” the boy asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to keep looking for his momma today.” Ayden pulled out a chair and bowed to the little girl. “We all need breakfast first. Will you sit here, Miss—?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Herring,” the girl said. “Ellie Herring, and this is my brother, Roy.”
“Well, then, Miss and Mr. Herring, come join us.” Ayden pulled out another chair. “Do you like milk?”
Ma bustled into the room, carrying a tray filled with a milk jug, glasses, and a coffeepot. “Did you children wash your hands?”
They nodded and held up tiny hands.
“Good. We’ll get you some help until your momma gets down.” Ma cast Ayden a questioning glance.
“They tell me she’s helping that lost child get ready.”
Chattering away like a squirrel protecting his walnut tree, Rosalie entered the dining room, towing Mrs. Herring behind her. She carried the child Mia had rescued after the wreck, the one without a mother. Either without or, worse, abandoned by his mother. The child was too young to say one way or another. But he did not seem distraught to be surrounded by strangers. When Mrs. Herring took the chair between her own children, the little boy sat on her lap, his head resting against her shoulder, his thumb poked between puckered lips.
Mia entered with a basket of biscuits, and Ma motioned for Ayden to help her bring in the rest of the food. Pa and Gerrett Divine arrived in the middle of the serving, and for several minutes, organized chaos reigned. Once all the food rested on the table, everyone was seated, and the blessing was spoken, Ayden found Mia across the breakfast table from him.
For months before their engagement crashed to a conclusion, he had imagined this moment of having Mia across from him in the morning. The two of them would share a pot of coffee, deliberately brush fingers as they handed one another butter or jelly. They would talk about what the newspapers had printed and what they needed to read, study, or otherwise accomplish that day . . . In his dream, they would be alone, however, and her hair would be loose on her shoulders. She would smile at him with sleepy joy.
Seeing her with her hair wound tight, her face drawn, not joyful, and the crowd of strangers around them, his heart felt bruised all over again. She hadn’t even spoken to him since their last exchange in the kitchen.
No, not exchange. His last comment to her.
No longer hungry, he drained his coffee and pushed back his chair. “If I may please be excused, I’d like to get going on looking for that baby’s mother.”
“I need to be doing the same.” Mia looked at him then and pushed back her own chair. She set her napkin beside a plate with little food spooned onto it and barely any of it touched.
Ma frowned, looking from one to the other. “Neither of you has eaten enough for going into the cold.”
“I don’t need much breakfast.” Mia flashed her quick, warm smile at Ma.
Pa chuckled. “Or lunch or dinner, by the look of you, young lady.”
Her smile flashed for Pa this time. “I can’t take the time to eat. I have already lost a day. Right now, I need to work.”
“When don’t you need to work?” The words slipped out from Ayden’s lips before he could stop himself. Against the background of the children’s chatter and the smell of rich food and wood smoke, that remark sounded bitter.
Mia met his gaze straight on and smiled at him, this time without the warmth. “I need to work as often as you do, Professor Goswell.”
Which was why their dreams of marital bliss had been doomed from the start.
He took a deep breath to ease the tightness in his chest. “Then go get yourself some warm clothes, and we’ll be off.”
“You don’t need to escort me,” Mia insisted. “I travel all over the East Coast without an escort.”
“But you shouldn’t.” Ma’s chin took on its stubborn set. “I’d say you’d be all
“How did he lose his momma?” the boy asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to keep looking for his momma today.” Ayden pulled out a chair and bowed to the little girl. “We all need breakfast first. Will you sit here, Miss—?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Herring,” the girl said. “Ellie Herring, and this is my brother, Roy.”
“Well, then, Miss and Mr. Herring, come join us.” Ayden pulled out another chair. “Do you like milk?”
Ma bustled into the room, carrying a tray filled with a milk jug, glasses, and a coffeepot. “Did you children wash your hands?”
They nodded and held up tiny hands.
“Good. We’ll get you some help until your momma gets down.” Ma cast Ayden a questioning glance.
“They tell me she’s helping that lost child get ready.”
Chattering away like a squirrel protecting his walnut tree, Rosalie entered the dining room, towing Mrs. Herring behind her. She carried the child Mia had rescued after the wreck, the one without a mother. Either without or, worse, abandoned by his mother. The child was too young to say one way or another. But he did not seem distraught to be surrounded by strangers. When Mrs. Herring took the chair between her own children, the little boy sat on her lap, his head resting against her shoulder, his thumb poked between puckered lips.
Mia entered with a basket of biscuits, and Ma motioned for Ayden to help her bring in the rest of the food. Pa and Gerrett Divine arrived in the middle of the serving, and for several minutes, organized chaos reigned. Once all the food rested on the table, everyone was seated, and the blessing was spoken, Ayden found Mia across the breakfast table from him.
For months before their engagement crashed to a conclusion, he had imagined this moment of having Mia across from him in the morning. The two of them would share a pot of coffee, deliberately brush fingers as they handed one another butter or jelly. They would talk about what the newspapers had printed and what they needed to read, study, or otherwise accomplish that day . . . In his dream, they would be alone, however, and her hair would be loose on her shoulders. She would smile at him with sleepy joy.
Seeing her with her hair wound tight, her face drawn, not joyful, and the crowd of strangers around them, his heart felt bruised all over again. She hadn’t even spoken to him since their last exchange in the kitchen.
No, not exchange. His last comment to her.
No longer hungry, he drained his coffee and pushed back his chair. “If I may please be excused, I’d like to get going on looking for that baby’s mother.”
“I need to be doing the same.” Mia looked at him then and pushed back her own chair. She set her napkin beside a plate with little food spooned onto it and barely any of it touched.
Ma frowned, looking from one to the other. “Neither of you has eaten enough for going into the cold.”
“I don’t need much breakfast.” Mia flashed her quick, warm smile at Ma.
Pa chuckled. “Or lunch or dinner, by the look of you, young lady.”
Her smile flashed for Pa this time. “I can’t take the time to eat. I have already lost a day. Right now, I need to work.”
“When don’t you need to work?” The words slipped out from Ayden’s lips before he could stop himself. Against the background of the children’s chatter and the smell of rich food and wood smoke, that remark sounded bitter.
Mia met his gaze straight on and smiled at him, this time without the warmth. “I need to work as often as you do, Professor Goswell.”
Which was why their dreams of marital bliss had been doomed from the start.
He took a deep breath to ease the tightness in his chest. “Then go get yourself some warm clothes, and we’ll be off.”
“You don’t need to escort me,” Mia insisted. “I travel all over the East Coast without an escort.”
“But you shouldn’t.” Ma’s chin took on its stubborn set. “I’d say you’d be all
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