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Anna smiled. “Will you really make me a cake?”
“Yes, I will. As soon as I can.”
“I never had my own cake before.”
Having grown up in a household where cake was as common as the sun rising, Regan found the admission so surprising she turned Colt’s way. His face was expressionless. “Then we’ll have to make sure it’s an extra special cake,” she said to Anna.
Her father said, “Time to sleep, Anna.”
She snuggled down under the thin quilt. “Good night, Papa. Good night, Miss Regan.”
They responded and left her alone to her dreams.
He closed the door and Regan said, “I’m enjoying your daughter.”
“I think the feeling is mutual.”
Regan was pleased. “Where might I find clean bedding?”
His perplexed response made her explain, “We slept on the ticking last night.”
She thought that would evoke some kind of response but again, his face told her nothing. “I have some in the chest in my room.”
He opened the door and she followed him inside for her first look at his domain. It was larger than hers but not by much. A big four-poster bed made of dark wood anchored the space. There was also a wardrobe, chest of drawers, and a nightstand made of similar wood. Dark burgundy drapes trimmed in black covered the windows. Unlike her own cluttered quarters, the place was neat and clean. He opened a chest at the foot of the bed, removed a stack of folded bedding, and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She added, “Spring said to ask you about using your mother’s room because I need more space for all my things.”
“The windows and walls need repairing.”
“May I see it?”
“I can’t afford the repairs.”
“Understood, but may I see it?”
He sighed. “This way.”
He led her down a short hallway to a door that opened to another short hallway. She got the impression that this section was an addition to the original structure. At the end of the hall stood a door. He turned the knob and stepped aside so she could enter first. It was dark but a few fingers of light streamed in through the wood-covered spaces she assumed to be windows. The dimness made it difficult to judge the true size of the space. It was also a good distance from the lone washroom. “Maybe this won’t work. It isn’t close to the washroom.”
“It has its own.”
Surprised by that, she tried to make out where it might be. “May I remove the wood over a window so I might see better?”
“Hold on.”
He left her and returned with a crowbar, a hammer, and a lamp. Handing her the lamp, he used its brightness to make his way across the room. It took him a few minutes to work the wood free but once it was done, the fading evening light streamed in and she looked around. The space was much larger than she’d first imagined. There was an old bed and other furnishings, all covered with a thick coating of dust. “The washroom?”
He walked to a door and opened it. Carrying the lamp, Regan looked inside and smiled at the sight of the claw-foot tub, but not the thick mat of spiderwebs blanketing the tub’s interior. A few spiders skittered away from the light. “Are the pipes still connected to the boiler?”
“Yes.”
That sealed things. She loved baths but there wasn’t a tub in the shared washroom she’d been using. If she could have her own tub, she didn’t care how much it might cost her to restore the room. “I’ve seen enough. Thank you for letting me see it.”
She waited while he nailed up the window again, and followed him out.
“As I said, I don’t have the funds to fix it up for you.”
“But I do,” she said gently.
