“I’m not scared.” She blinked several times but squared her shoulders. “I am, however, grateful to be living here at the house. Thank you, again.”
“No need, Miss Cooper. It sets my mind at ease to have you with us.”
After church, I’d have to go out to see Rachel. For now, I needed to get the children loaded into the sleigh and off to Sunday service.
Chapter 7
Quinn
* * *
Merry helped the girls and me get bundled up in coats and scarves and hats. When ready, we went out to the covered awning on the side of the house where a horse-drawn sleigh waited.
Flynn and Cymbeline were already outside, tossing snowballs at each other and making a great deal of noise. Harley, with his left hand in a bandage, stood near a different set of horses from the night before, petting their noses and speaking softly into their ears. Next to him, a little girl in a gray cloak waved to us.
“That’s Harley’s sister, Poppy,” Josephine said.
“They’re our friends,” Cymbeline said.
“I met Harley last night,” I said.
“Merry likes him,” Josephine whispered.
“But he doesn’t know I’m alive,” Merry said under her breath.
Harley held up a hand and reached into the sleigh, then held up my hat. “I’ve saved it, Miss Cooper.”
“Thank goodness,” I called out to him. “I was about to make my debut in town hatless.”
He sprinted over to me, presenting it like a crown.
I snatched it from him and happily set it upon my head, securing it with the pins.
Harley took off his cap, revealing a head of wavy brown hair. “Little ladies.” He bowed to them, causing them to giggle. He straightened and nodded at Merry.
“Hello, Merry.”
“Hi, Harley.” Merry’s cheeks flushed bright pink.
“Miss Cooper. Are you feeling all right?” he asked me. “I feel terrible about what happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. Knowing what I did now, I was sure this was true. “Are the horses well?”
“Yes, they were fine,” Harley said. “You took the brunt of it—popped out of there like a ball from a cannon.”
I laughed. “I should never have fallen asleep.”
Poppy had come up behind him, peering around his waist. “This is Poppy,” Harley said. “My sister.”
“Nice to meet you, Poppy,” I said.
She bowed her head. “Nice to meet you.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Thirteen,” Poppy said.
Her answer surprised me. She was small for a girl her age.