Chapter 28
Atbreakfast,Isatnext to Graham and asked if he’d read any of the letters.
“Aye,” he said. “I got through a few.” He turned toward me slightly. “I have questions, if ye’d be so kind as to answer them on our walk to the mission.”
I grinned. “I would love nothing more.”
His smile was slight, but it was more friendly than yesterday. Perhaps my letters had a positive effect, even if they didn’t recall his memories. I’d written them with sincerity, and I always liked to think that sincerity made a difference in any interaction, whether in person or in post.
Mr. Ashby arrived and sat across from us. “What are you up to today, Miss Findlay?” he asked.
“We’ll be going to the mission to help the children make hymnals.”
“So am I. Do you mind if I walk with you both?” He scooped some potatoes from a dish.
“Of course you’re welcome,” I said, not looking at him directly. He was welcome, but that didn’t mean I felt perfectly comfortable with the idea. I picked up a container of jam and put a generous amount on my toast, then took a bite. The three of us ate in silence for several minutes.
“Are ye working on the budget again today, Mr. Ashby?” Graham asked.
“Arthur, please. It’s strange hearing you address me so formally.” He chuckled, taking a sip of tea. “But yes, I’ll be going through ledgers in Mr. Weiss’s office at the chapel. I suppose we’ll see each other when I inevitably come out for a break.”
“Aye, seems probable.” After finishing his breakfast, Graham took his dishes into the kitchen, then went outside. I wondered why he didn’t wait at the table for us.
I sighed, and Mr. Ashby noticed. “You seem tired,” he commented.
Rubbing a hand over my forehead, I sighed again. “I suppose I am.” Then, remembering he hadn’t heard my news, I leaned forward. “You will never guess what happened.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“Our dinghy showed up on shore. All the letters I wrote to Graham were actually preserved in my bag. Can you believe it?”
“No, actually. That seems far too fantastical.” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps… No, that couldn’t be.”
“What?” I asked, laughing prematurely. I anticipated something humorous.
“Do you think the dolphins pushed the boat to shore?”
As I suspected, his idea was silly. I laughed loudly, and even snorted. I had to cover my mouth before I finished laughing. “You are truly ridiculous.”
He grinned widely, watching me laugh. We stared at each other for a few moments, and I couldn’t be sure why, except that I liked to study his features. My gaze roved over his face, taking into account the tilt of his light-brown eyebrows, the smile lines around his blue eyes, the curved shape of his mouth. Looking at him felt natural, as if I were seeing something as commonplace as nature—and yet I felthis face would be the kind of nature that inspired painters and poets. I would never have thought so before, but being with him every day for three months had changed my perception. I smiled softly, and he returned the gesture. Then we both stood and met Graham outside as if nothing had passed between us at all.
It was a long walk, and I was glad of it. The three of us had that much more time to talk.
“So did anything strike you while reading my letters?” I asked Graham.
He glanced at Mr. Ashby. “Are ye sure ye want to talk about this now?”
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the exercise. I won’t get between you two.” Mr. Ashby had put his hands in his pockets as he walked. I got the feeling his words had more than one meaning.
“I don’t mind if you listen, Mr. Ashby. We are comfortable enough that anything contained in my letters wouldn’t shock you.” I looked at Graham. “We talked at length about memories of you while on our journey. He knows you almost as well as I do.” I could have added that Mr. Ashby probably knew me almost as well as Graham did. Perhaps better, in some aspects. I tried not to think that he also knew the way I kissed, just as Graham did…but it still crossed my mind, creating butterflies. It took effort to ignore them. “So say anything you like,” I said.
Graham nodded. After thinking for a moment, he began. “Ye wrote about Melody often. She is yer… sister-in-law?”
“Yes. And my best friend.”
“Ah. And ye have a nephew, Logan.”
“I do.” I found it interesting that his questions were focused on me.
