Cam turned his head so she wouldn’t see him grimace. He’d never felt so guilty.
“How will the household work? I understand that Bessie has been the housekeeper for a long time—will she resent my giving her daily orders? Who will be in charge of the children?”
Cam rubbed his temples. He hadn’t thought about any of that. “How did it work in your household... when your parents were alive?”
“My mother gave the housekeeper a weekly list of what to cook for meals and what needed doing that wasn’t a part of her usual routine. My mother was in charge of us children during the day, and when my father came home in the evening, he spent time with us before bedtime. My parents did the bedtime routine together.”
“Bedtime routine?”
“Yes. One of them read me a short story until I was able to read myself, and they always listened to my prayers until I was about thirteen.”
Cam stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “Then, that’s how we’ll do it. I’ll speak to Bessie, too.”
After a brief meeting the next day with his new client, Cam began working on a case defending a man accused of stealing a pig from a farmer. He sighed. He wanted the job of senator more than ever now.
Joe stuck his head in the door of Cameron’s office. “Too busy for a little chat?”
Cam closed the legal book he’d been reading. “Never too busy for a chat. Come on in.”
Joe closed the door and took the seat in front of Cam’s desk. “You have a lovely wife.”
“Yes,” Cam said with a smile. “I was relieved. The photograph she sent wasn’t too clear, and I was somewhat concerned. She’s lovely and poised, but she has one big fault.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “What?”
“She’s religious, and she refuses to tell a lie.”
Joe laughed. “Then if I were you, I’d tell her the truth about everything.”
“I’m not really dishonest,” Cam said, “just a bit... a bit—”
“Dishonest?” Joe finished for him.
“You’re the one who got me into this.”
“I made a suggestion that you jumped on like a hawk on a field mouse.”
Cam held his head in his hands. “I just can’t tell her, Joe. She’d leave, I know she would, and I am already fond of her.”
Joe stood. “Tell her the truth.”
Cam had a hard time concentrating on his stolen pig case, so he left and went home early.
Hannah dressed slowly that morning. She could hear the children in the playroom across the hall. She didn’t feel like talking to Cameron yet, so she fiddled with her hair until she heard him ride off to work in his stately carriage.
Her first stop that morning was the playroom. When she entered the room, both children bolted upright as if they’d been caught doing something wrong.
She smiled at them. “Did I startle you?”
Georgie’s thumb immediately found his mouth, but Annabelle smiled back. “We were playing with the new toys Father bought for us,” Annabelle said.
Hannah wanted a less formal relationship with the children, so she took a seat in a nearby sofa chair.
“My, your father was certainly generous. Is that toybox filled with new toys?”
Annabelle walked closer. “Yes. He said he missed our birthdays this year.”
Hannah gazed at the box and then the nearby shelf. “Is that doll new, too?”
“No, I brought that with me.”
Hannah felt her eyes widen. “Brought it with you? From where?”
Annabelle bit her lower lip. “From... from my bedroom. I used to sleep with it at night, but now I’m too big to sleep with a doll, so I brought it in here.”
“She’s very cute—may I hold her?” Hannah asked.
Annabelle walked over to the shelf and brought the doll to Hannah, who studied the rag doll. It was about six inches tall, old, battered, and torn in places. Her dress was soiled and faded. Dolls like that were usually homemade. The face had been painted on and was a bit crooked.
“I had a doll similar to this when I was very young. I think you’re a brave girl to give up sleeping with it on your own. I had a very hard time parting with mine. Actually, it fell apart, and I had to part with it.” Hannah smiled and handed the doll back.
Annabelle grinned back at her. Her eyes sparkled, so Hannah knew the smile was real.
Just as suddenly, Annabelle’s smile faded, and she came a step closer and looked up at Hannah. “Should we call you Mother?”
Hannah took hold of Annabelle’s small hands and said, “I’d love for you to call me Mother or Mama. I always called my mother Mama. I’d feel proud if you called me Mama.”
“I like Mama better, too,” Annabelle said. “Georgie doesn’t talk much yet, but I’ll teach him to say Mama.”
“What do you call your father?”
“Just Father. He told us he liked that name best.”
“Not Papa?”
Annabelle shook her head. “No, he likes Father.”
“I see.” Hannah stood. “I’m hungry as a bear—have you had breakfast yet?”
“No,” Annabelle said. “We’re supposed to wait for Father to go to work first.”
“Really?” Hannah wondered at that. “Well, then, the three of us will be breakfast partners.”
Annabelle gave Hannah another eye-sparkling smile, and she exclaimed with enthusiasm, “All right!”
After breakfast, Hannah suggested that Annabelle show her around the yard and barn. Annabelle dragged little Georgie out of the house. She pulled Georgie faster than his chubby little legs could manage, so Hannah scooped him up and followed Annabelle to the barn. There, she showed Hannah three horses, a wagon, and a litter of kittens behind a bale of straw.
They played with the kittens for a while. Hannah loved cats, and she could see that Annabelle did, too.
Georgie was more interested
