The company stood at once, and good will was restored.
Ann slipped to her father.
“Ye’ve changed yer mind?” he asked before Ann could speak.
“If God can forgive him can we not?”
He pulled her to the hall. “Annie. Are ye absolutely sure?”
“Aye. I cannot believe it myself, but yes. Unfortunately, I’ve botched it. He’ll not ask for me now, but at least we can be friends.”
“Don’t ye worry about that, my dear. He will.”
Ann could not be so sanguine. She’d told Reed from the beginning that she would not have him. Then, when he most needed someone to believe in him, she’d failed. No. He’d not come around again. Ann trudged up to her room to finish the dress for her sister Olivia’s baby’s doll.
~*~
Reed watched Ann enter the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Mr. Archer,” she said keeping her head down.
“Miss Wright.”
She filled a plate with ham and potatoes and took the seat opposite him at the foot of the table.
He scooped up his cup of coffee and joined her. “The last time we found ourselves down here, ye took me on a merry chase. Should I expect another this day?”
She momentarily reached under the table. “Happy New Year.” She placed something wrapped in a silky crimson cloth and a blue ribbon on the table. “It’s a gift of friendship.”
“For me?”
“Open it.”
He pulled the ribbon and the cloth fell away from two carved wooden blanks.
“It’s a knife handle. Yer blacksmith will know what to do with them.”
“A carving knife.”
“Yes.”
“I have something for ye, too. But first I must ask ye something.”
Ann’s stormy-blue eyes widened.
“What is yer assessment of the outcome of my proposal?”
Confusion passed through her countenance.
“My proposal, yer trial, that we determine if we will suit?”
“I thought I gave you an answer yesterday.”
“Ye didn’t have all the facts.” He took her hand, heart beating a call to arms. “Shall we try again?”
Her grin appeared and her eyes sparkled like sunlight kissing the peaks of wavelets on the Bay.
“So, Miss Archer, what is your assessment of our experiment?”
A twinkle returned to her smile. “Will ye argue with my judgment?”
“Never promised I wouldn’t argue.” He quoted back, arms crossed.
She shrugged and cocked her head to one side.
“Well?”
“I believe that my original premise was an absolute failure.”
His heart pounded.
Laughter escaped her lips. “I believe my original premise that we will not suit, and therefore should prove to everyone the we should never marry, failed.”
Relief breezed through him.
“Then my discussion with yer father was not in vain?”
She leaned back and crossed her arms. “What discussion might that be?”
