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“You are better as a distant, silent threat.”
His father grew sheepish, acknowledging the hollowness of this idea. “No chance of tripping over my tongue in that case.”
The look he gave Kenver said everything. He was glad his son had taken over—admiring and grateful and proud—things Kenver had wished for all his life.
“We must have Henry down for a visit,” Sarah said.
“Could we, do you think?”
“Yes,” answered Kenver without qualification.
His father looked delighted. “I’ll show him the old oak. Did I ever tell you about the Roman coin I found buried beneath it?”
He had, but Kenver didn’t care. He saw that Sarah felt the same.
Papa ran on, full of anecdotes and expressions of love for the land. Finally, though, he noticed the slowing of responses. “I should run along and give you youngsters some privacy,” he said then.
He clearly wanted to linger. On the other hand, Kenver wanted to sit with his wife, so he didn’t urge him to stay.
“Don’t forget what I said about a ball,” Papa added as he rose. “We ought to introduce Sarah to the neighborhood properly.”
He seemed able to forget the slights they’d offered her in the beginning. Not for the first time, Kenver wondered if Papa’s illness had weakened his memory.
With a jaunty wave, his father went out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Kenver pulled Sarah closer. “Do you want a ball?”
“I’d rather have a greenhouse for growing herbs.”
He laughed.
Tess the deerhound pushed into the room. She carried a squirming puppy by the nape of its neck. She put it down near Sarah’s feet and went out. A few minutes later, she brought another. This process was repeated three more times.
“She brings them to you wherever you are?” Kenver asked.
“Whenever she can reach me.”
“I’ve never seen her do anything like that before.”
“She may feel a kinship.”
“Eh?”
Sarah put her hand on her midsection. “Next year, your father will get his wish for another grandchild.”
“Oh, my love!” Kenver drew her into his arms, then pulled back. “You feel well?”
“Perfectly. Mama says all is as it should be.”
Once again Kenver felt grateful for Mrs. Moran’s wisdom.
“I do hope it will be a boy,” said Sarah.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Your mother said…”
“We have agreed that much of what Mama says is nonsense.”
