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“I love climbing trees,” Pippa said, “and I have just the perfect one in the back garden. Come,”—she gestured for the girls to follow, her voice as regal as a queen—“I will show you.”
“I would not mind seeing your dolls,” Katie said meekly.
Pippa’s gaze ran over the older of the sisters before nodding. “Very well, but come look at my tree first. It’s far better than Jacob Tucker’s tree, whatever he says.”
“Pippa, shall I come?” Mabel asked when the girls were already halfway across the lawn.
Pippa turned back, her narrow eyebrows lifted. “Really, Mabel. I am old enough to climb a tree without help, am I not?”
“As long as you are cautious.”
Pippa smiled saucily before turning back, flanked by the Traynor girls. Chatter could be heard as she led them toward the back garden.
“I would invite you inside for tea, but I understand you have much to do,” Mabel said, turning toward Mrs. Traynor.
The woman smiled appreciatively, her gaze trailing her daughters as they rounded the corner of the house and out of sight. Nodding, she faced Mabel. “You are so kind to invite them, Miss Sheffield. I hope I might return the favor sometime in the future.”
“Though next time perhaps we ought to arrange to share tea,” Mabel said, doing her best to be welcoming.
Mrs. Traynor hooked a blonde curl behind her ear. “I would enjoy that.”
Mabel smiled. “They seem like very sweet girls. I’m happy to have them here. It is not often my Pippa is distracted in a manner that does not lead her to mischief.”
Mrs. Traynor’s eyes sparkled. “I think our girls shall get along rather nicely, Miss Sheffield.”
The woman climbed back onto the driving seat of her gig and accepted the reins from Mabel’s stable hand before clicking her tongue and leading them away. Mabel stood on the drive, her hands clasped lightly before her as she watched the woman leave, aware of the giggling drifting from behind the house.
A smile touched her lips, and her shoulders relaxed. If Pippa could make friends such as Mabel had found in Hattie and Amelia, it would do the girl a world of good. To constantly be at odds with a neighborhood boy was not doing Pippa any favors.
Footsteps crunched on the road behind her, and Mabel turned toward the sound, her heart nearly jumping into her throat when Mac approached. The midday light touched his hazel eyes, reminding her of honey drizzling over the edge of a spoon.
Mac cleared his throat. “Have you seen Charles, Miss Sheffield? I rather thought he told me to meet him out here. But perhaps I misheard him.”
Mabel’s stomach constricted. Had the sound of Mac’s voice caused the sensation or the sudden desire she developed for honey spread over a muffin? “I have not seen him. Are you planning to venture to the lake again?”
His lips tipped into a smile, and he shook his head. “Not at present, no. Your father has plans pertaining to the south field, and Charles thought it prudent to ask my advice.”
“You have experience in agriculture?”
“Agriculture? No,” he said, shaking his head. A moment of heavy silence passed before he cocked his head to the side. “Are you waiting for someone?”
She shook her head, unwilling to continue the deception. Did he truly believe she still did not recognize him? How daft could he be?
Well, if Liam MacKenzie wanted to pretend that he was not the same man who had shredded her heart six years before, then Mabel was going to do everything in her power to force him to confess his identity.
She ran through her childhood memories, certain there was something she could say to show him that she knew who he was, before settling on one in particular. She turned to study Mac.
“You know, it would do Charles a world of good if he was able to catch a fish. Perhaps you can help him.”
“How might I do that?” he asked.
“I think I know what his trouble is. I learned this from a friend.” She ran her gaze along the roof of the house. If she was going to successfully play this idea out, then Liam could not look into her eyes. He would understand her intent at once.
“A friend?”
“To be quite frank,” she shifted to hold his gaze in a moment of bravery, “he was not a friend of mine per se, but he was a friend of my cousin’s.”
“A friend of Charles?”
