“What’s not to understand? You are a gifted musician. It’s incredible,” he replies.
Aiylin blushes, “Thank you, but there are some who wouldn't share your opinion.”
“Does Patrick?” he demands.
“Patrick could care less what I do with my time. I work for my Father during the day, helping to run the factory.”
“I’m going to bed children,” Elizabeth says quickly and tells him to make sure the house is locked up. “Aiylin storms like this could last for days, and the dig out may take longer. Please don’t fret about staying with us. You are more than welcome. We are perfectly safe here.”
“Days?” She leaps to her feet, “But, I have to get back to work…”
“I’m sorry child, but these things happen. Good night.”
She stares after Elizabeth and hurries to the window to look out at the snow. It’s coming down so thick that she can no longer see the lantern. “No,” she mumbles, and the room falls quiet with just the two of them. Only the crackling of the wood in the fireplace is heard.
“Aiylin, explain to me why my cousin doesn’t touch you and could care less about what you do with your time, yet still you plan on marrying him?”
Frustration flows through her. “I thought your Mother explained this to you already.” She turns and steps closer to him and speaks slowly, “I am Aylin Miller. My Sister, Mena Miller, married your cousin Patrick two days ago at a simple, and beautiful ceremony. It was all in the letter I gave your Mother.”
Sebastian stares at her in relief and surprise. Finally, it all makes sense. “I thought you were the one marrying Patrick.” He replies. “A letter you say.” He glances away and growls after his Mother.
“Elizabeth said that she would explain everything to you.” Aiylin glances at him and backs away.
He’s looking at her thinking what a fool he’s been acting.
“Thank you for your hospitality Mr. Becker,” she starts to back away. “I should retire, it’s been an eventful day.”
“That it has, Miss Miller,” he smiles as she hurries out of the room.
Sebastian walks over to the window and squints into the dark. The glow of the lantern is barely visible. “Just exactly what did my daughter wish for?” he wonders.
Chapter 11
Aiylin wakes and shivers in the early morning light. Her room is chilled, and the fire is low. She adds a few logs before walking over to the window and stares in astonishment at the blizzard blowing just outside her room.
“The world is white!” she gasps and wraps her arms around herself.
The door opens, and tiny footprints warn her of what’s coming. She spins, and Tinley is standing, shivering in the doorway. “My room is cold,” her teeth chatter, and Aiylin calls to her.
“Come on, love, climb in with me.” She pulls the covers back, and Tinley doesn’t have to be told twice. Diving into the bed, she giggles and waits for Aiylin to climb in with her.
“It’s simply too early to get up,” Aiylin yawns and draws the covers up. “Why are you awake?”
“My fire went out, it was cold.” She yawns and rolls over into Aiylin’s arms. Soon she is breathing heavily.
“What am I thinking?” she strokes a hand over Tinley’s head. This is a strange feeling, holding a child in her arms. Something shifts inside her heart, and it scares her.
The Lord demands that we trust him, even if she had long since given up hope of having this for herself. Holding Tinley changes everything, and it’s terrifying. “Lord, what am I going to do now?” she whispers.
“We’re going to get a tree and bake cookies,” Tinley yawns, startling her and she laughs softly.
“That’s what we’ll do then.”
They snuggle back down and sleep, unaware that the blizzard around them is larger than anything they’ve seen in a hundred years.
Sebastian wakes up and dresses quickly, worried about the temperature in his room. The house is cold, and he’s worried about Tinley’s bedroom.
He rushes down the hall to her room, her door is open and cold. The fire in her room is completely extinguished. “Tinley?” he rumbles and turns to check with his mother.
The kitchen smells amazing when he walks inside. The cook is busy making coffee and mixing dough. “Good Morning, has mother been down yet?” he asks, pouring himself a strong cup and stealing a pastry hot from the pan.
“Oh, you… with the stealing. Your mother’s in the library. The cold doesn’t let her sleep.”
“Is Tinley with her?” he asks as he walks to the door.
“I don’t know. I’m your cook, not your babysitter,” she teases.
Sebastian is chuckling as he walks into the library. His mother is tucked into a chair with her own steaming cup and a blanket over her legs. “Good Morning, Mother. Have you seen Tinley?”
“No, Son. I’ve been down here for a few hours,” she slowly puts down her cup.
“Where could she…,” he pales and looks at her with wide eyes. “You don’t think she would have woken Miss Miller?” he asks.
“Of course she would,” Elizabeth laughs.
Sebastian sits his cup on the tray beside her and sighs heavily. “This child is going to be the death of me,” he mumbles. “Much like her Grandmother,” he quips and stares at her.
“What does that mean?” Elizabeth asks.
“Why didn’t you tell me who she was? You let me act like a fool,” he insists.
“What? Oh,” she shrugs her shoulders, “I forgot. I’m old and we had a lot going on at once with a storm, a guest and a dance. You should know better than to rush to judgment, son.”
Shame flickers through him and he looks away. “True. I suppose I
