Avery did exactly that, her sweet voice filling the small room as she crooned a lullaby to the doll. The sound was so heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, that it drew Tresia’s attention away from the ledger and piles of paper. Someone sung those words to her so often that she’d memorized them. It must have been Hannah. As far as she knew, Devlin didn’t sing. At least, she’d never heard him.
“Why don’t you go stand with Avery? I think the two of you would be a beautiful photograph.”
When Tresia didn’t move, Lucy turned her attention to Avery. “Wouldn’t you like a photograph of you and Miss Tresia?”
Avery nodded, so vigorously, she almost lost her balance on the high stool.
Realizing she had no choice, Tresia stuck the pile of receipt stubs and invoices into the ledger and closed the book. She moved toward the set, patting her hair as she did. “Is my hair all right?”
“Pretty,” Avery said.
Standing behind Avery, she rested her hands gently on her small shoulders.
“Lovely,” Lucy said as she gazed through the camera lens and snapped another photograph. Then another and another. Avery was photogenic, her smile wide. She chattered away, clearly at ease. And she was animated, striking poses and making faces that made Tresia laugh.
“Last one, I think.” Lucy stood back, her fingers coming up to tap on her lips. “Avery, why don’t you give Miss Tresia a hug?”
Avery climbed up on the stool until she was standing then threw her arms around Tresia. “I love you, Miss Tresia.”
Oh, though the words were a surprise, they settled in her heart, and she couldn’t help the smile that made the corners of her mouth rise up. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“Perfect!” Lucy snapped the photograph at that moment then moved away from the camera. “You can pick up the photographs in a few days.”
“That’s fine. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. I enjoyed today.”
“I refuse to pay you nothing, Lucy. There has to be some kind of charge, at least for the materials you used and for taking up your time.”
Lucy laughed. “I’ll send you a bill,” she said, though Tresia knew a bill would never come.
She glanced at Avery, who had climbed down from the stool, Cecily clasped tightly in her arms. “Are you ready to see Mr. Crandall at the butcher shop?”
Avery nodded, then approached Lucy. “Thank you, Miss Lucy,” she said then tugged on her hand, bringing her closer. As soon as Lucy bent down, she gave her a kiss on the cheek.
To say Tresia was stunned by the action would have been an understatement. Not only had she been surprised by Avery’s admission that she loved her, but also how happy and at ease Avery was with Lucy.
She stopped in the process of picking up the ledger from the table. As Tresia watched the transformation of her young charge with something akin to amazement, she was still determined to talk to the marshal about Avery’s grandmother. Perhaps, this is what Avery had been missing—people who listened to her when she spoke, people who genuinely seemed to care and let her be herself.
Lucy appeared stunned as well, though she recovered quickly and gave Avery a hug before she looked at Tresia. “Don’t forget the Ladies Society meeting next week.”
“I won’t.” She held out her hand for Avery. “Come on, sweetie, let’s go figure out what we want for dinner.”
“Okay.” Avery clasped her hand, then turned and waved. “Bye, Miss Lucy!”
Devlin stepped into the kitchen after putting Avery to bed, fully expecting to have his nightly cup of coffee with Tresia amid pleasant conversation. Avery had chattered nearly non-stop, telling him all about having her photograph taken at Miss Lucy’s. His daughter seemed to be coming out of her shell, once more behaving as she did before Hannah had passed and the awful time when she’d gone to stay with Frances while he was burying his grief in chasing outlaws.
But Tresia looked up at him with a serious expression. “Tell me about Avery’s grandmother.”
“Why?”
“She told me something today that has me…upset.”
Devlin moved into the room on feet that seemed to have turned to lead, pulled out his chair and sat down though he didn’t like the concerned look on her face. He saw a flash of anger in her pansy-colored eyes. “What happened? What did she say?”
“I won’t betray Avery’s trust. Suffice it to say she said her grandmother was mean. That upsets me, Devlin.” She studied him, unwilling to lower her gaze, clearly expecting an answer. “Was she mean to Avery?”
Devlin sat back in his chair even though he felt his body stiffen with unwelcome memories, recalling the devastation of seeing Avery with her hair cut short as punishment and Frances’ cruel and cold attitude that her granddaughter deserved it. That had been the last straw for him, one that started him on the journey to this new place. No one abused his daughter. “Avery isn’t wrong. She is mean, but I suppose she had to be. You’ve heard ofRancho Gran Cielojust outside of Albuquerque?”
