Page 78 of Debtor’s Daughter

Larkin thought he could probably forgive the boy anything if he called him Pa, for he said it so naturally, as if he didn’t need to think about it at all.

Maggie’s lips twitched. “Well, run inside and ask Moody to wash your hands and then we’ll see.”

Gideon, aware he’d been given a reprieve, ran off at once.

Maggie turned back to Larkin who let out an unsteady breath as she held her arms out to him. He pulled her close, smiling as her burgeoning stomach kept them a little apart.

“I told you he’d come to it in time,” she said softly.

Larkin nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You did. And, as ever, you were right. Do you think he will mind having a little brother or sister?”

“No. I think he is excited, and I think his father is clever enough to ensure he never feels left out.”

She reached up on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, just as Gideon burst out of the house with Mrs Moody not far behind.

“Ready!” he called, running to them. “Ready for my surprise.”

Laughing ruefully at the child’s terrible timing, he picked Gideon up. “Come along then, my fine fellow.”

He grinned at Moody, who was in on the surprise, as was everyone else in the household. If Gideon thought it strange that his Aunt Connie and Uncle Cecil, Caro, Grandpa and Grandma, and Wallace and Barnes and everyone else was gathered in the stable yard, he did not mention it, for he had seen his surprise, and nothing else mattered.

“Bertie!” he exclaimed, wriggling until Larkin put him down. He ran to the fence, where the pony stood chewing placidly next to his mother’s pretty mare, Starlight, and swishing its tail. “Pa, Pa! Is it Bertie?”

“It is,” Larkin said, crouching down beside Gideon. “He’s your pony, Gideon, and I shall teach you to ride him, just like my father taught me.”

Gideon stared at him, back at the pony, and then at Larkin again. He hurled himself at Larkin, throwing his arms around his neck and squeezing tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you, Papa. He’s wonderful!”

Larkin cleared his throat, afraid he might weep in front of everyone, for he was only holding onto his composure by a thread. “You’re wonderful too, Giddy, and I love you. Thank you for being my son.”

Giddy pushed away from Larkin, apparently less moved by the moment than Larkin for he began jumping up and down. “Ride him now, Pa? Please?”

“Certainly,” Larkin said, nodding. “If you go into the stables and find Jeb, he’ll show you Bertie’s saddle and bridle, and you may carry them out to me if you are careful.

Gideon gave an excited yip and ran off across the yard. Larkin turned to see his father smiling at him.

“Well done,” he said, and gave an approving nod.

Larkin smiled back but found this exceedingly high praise the last straw. Taking a moment for himself, he walked into the paddock, reaching into his pocket for the lump of sugar he’d stowed there earlier. Bertie snuffled at his palm with his velvety muzzle and crunched amiably. The gate creaked, and Larkin looked up to see Maggie had followed him.

“Don’t,” he said, holding up a hand and grinning ruefully. “If you say anything nice, I shall be quite undone.”

She smiled at him, warmth and love shining in her eyes. “Then I shan’t say a word,” she said, and put her arms around him, holding on tight and resting her head upon his chest.

As ever, she knew exactly what he needed, and Larkin sighed as the emotion settled, changing into something peaceful but unbreakable.

“Can you win at life, like you can at cards, do you think?” he asked, looking down at his wife.

“Of course, silly,” she said, gazing up at him with adoration, as if he truly was the hero he had always wanted to be, slaying the dragon and bringing her and Gideon and everyone she loved safely home. “We’ve been winning from the moment you tripped over that packing case and taught Gideon his first bad word.”

He laughed. Much to Maggie’s chagrin, he’d taught the lad a couple more in the interim, too.

“So we have,” Larkin said, and kissed her, uncaring of the family still gathered in the yard, or Bertie nudging at him, searching hopefully for more sugar.

Gideon would be back any moment and, if Larkin had learnt anything since becoming the boy’s pa, it was that such moments ought never to be missed.