AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Charlotte knew that to be certain. Within two weeks, someone was going to nab Bastien, even if it was a charade.
With a final wave goodbye, Margot left the house, leaving Charlotte and Bastien alone once again.
Bastien silently watched as Charlotte put away all of her products before speaking up. “And you thought she was a viable candidate?”
“We don't have much time to work with, so our options are limited. Besides, you said you’d marry The Statue of Liberty. At least Margot has a pulse.”
“To her, I'm just meat ready to be auctioned at the 4H.”
“Well, to you, she's just a hired wife. What does it matter as long as she says yes?”
He closed his eyes and took several breaths. “It has to be believable. My mom might think I found her on the corner and hired her for a night, but she'd never believe I'd marry her forever.”
“Pity you wouldn’t answer any of my questions yesterday.”
“What do you want to know?”
She picked up her now-cold tea and emptied her mug. Men were so damn frustrating. “Bastien, the horses have already left the barn. We have two more options. Let’s hope you can saddle one of them.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“Ivy, we're going to be late.” Bastien slathered peanut butter on a bagel and added sliced bananas and wheat germ. “Breakfast is ready.” He looked up some quick breakfast ideas and made this, hoping Ivy would like it. All she wanted lately was Cocoa Puffs and chocolate milk, and each time he let her have it, he was certain social services would break through the door and arrest him for bad parenting.
“I'm coming,” she called out from her room. A moment later, she raced into the kitchen wearing green leggings and a pink tutu. He took her in from head to toe. At least she had the matching socks and an actual pair of shoes on today. Yesterday she insisted on wearing one boot and one sneaker. When he asked why, she told him she wanted to be prepared for anything. He couldn't argue with her logic, even though he wanted to. Her fashion sense could be best described as Annie Oakley meets Picasso, but he embraced her confidence and supported her individuality. He was pretty positive she'd grow out of her Pippi Longstocking phase.
“Try this.” He cut the bagel into four pieces and put them on a plate. She ate while he attempted to tame her hair. She always asked for braids, but the most she got was a ponytail. Even that was a challenge, and he failed more often than not. Her hair looked like a bird's nest around the edges. She often appeared like she'd been caught in a windstorm, her mop going in every direction.
“Today is show and tell day.”
He remembered when he was a kid and had to bring something in for show and tell. He always felt anxious, worrying if what he'd brought was good enough or if the other kids would make fun of him. Looking back, he had to admit his collection of bug carcasses had not excited his classmates or his teacher the way he thought it would.
He looked at Ivy and smiled. “What are you going to bring with you?”
She paused mid-bite, carefully set down her bagel, and picked up her sparkly, rainbow-striped unicorn backpack. She fumbled around, shaking the bag until she found what she was looking for—a small glass jar, the kind that held baby food. She pulled it out, holding it up high to show off the inside: countless multicolored shells clung together, each looking as if it had been carefully chosen. A smile spread across her face. “I promised Mommy I'd keep filling this jar full of pretty shells,” she said.
“That’s a wonderful plan,” Bastien said, though a part of him felt sadness as he realized it would be necessary to find new ways to keep Ivy connected to her mother as time passed and memories of Chloe faded. He knew it was important that her memory lived on.
She took a bite of the bagel and sipped her milk. “Do they have seashells in New York?”
Since there were beaches nearby, he could assume there were seashells. It wouldn't be difficult to reach a beach, but it wouldn't be as easy as her doorstep, where she could step outside and collect them. “We'll need to drive to one,” he answered.
She glanced in his direction, and he could see the resemblance to Chloe in her expression. Losing Chloe would always hurt, but she lived on in her daughter, and Bastien was never more grateful to have Ivy there as a reminder that his sister had lived. “Will we have to move?”
He wasn't sure how to respond. “Not right now,” he replied.
She smiled. “I don't want to leave. Charlotte is here, and so are Cricket’s chocolate chip pancakes!”
He didn't want to crush her enthusiasm and say she could find pancakes anywhere, but she was right about one thing—Charlotte would never be in New York.
The days had evaporated since he'd come to Willow Bay. His life had changed so drastically that keeping his head from spinning was hard. A week ago, he was a bachelor, and now he had taken on the responsibility of caring for Ivy and was looking for a wife.
Ivy had inherited her mother's tenacity and could be quite headstrong at times, but she also possessed an inner wisdom beyond her years that often surprised him.
“Ready to go, little bug?”
She nodded and then raced to the bathroom to brush her teeth. He would have never thought of that, but someone had instilled the good habit in her, and he was grateful. He'd gone on Amazon and looked for child-rearing books. There were hundreds, maybe thousands. He knew of theWhat to Expect When You're Expectingbooks, but they didn't have one calledWhat to Expect When a Five-year-old Lands in Your Life. He'd purchased everything he could find on raising good humans, and accidentally chose one on puppies because of the small girl on the cover. It might come in handy someday.
“Ready.” She pulled on her knapsack. It wasn't the mini kind made for little ones, but a full-size backpack that could be used for hiking that hung to the back of her thighs. If filled, it would weigh more than she did.
