Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Wade and Trey both chuckled, thinking it hilarious, but I wasn’t amused. I asked her to speak English and she only replied in French. I wanted to bang my head on the butcher-block table, which would have been less painful.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I look up to see all three of my siblings emerging from the dark. It’s surprising that they’re all here this late in the evening, seeing as how they have early workdays ahead.
But it also isn’t surprising. They’re here because they know how troubled I am.
Trey wordlessly goes into the house and comes out with three beers and once they’ve all cracked open their bottles and gotten situated around the fire, Wade asks the all-important question. “What do we do with her?”
“Fuck if I know,” I grumble. “But I’m open to suggestions.”
“It will just take time,” Kat says. “I think she enjoyed herself at the barn today. She seemed interested.”
“I bet by this time next week, she’ll be fine,” Trey says, but I have my doubts.
“I’m taking her to register for school tomorrow. Lionel and Rosemund had her at Prescott Academy.” I don’t need to say anything more than that. All us Blackburn kids attended public school and that’s where Sylvie will go. While we certainly have enough money to send her to the school she has been attending, I want her to be around a diverse group of children. I don’t want her around the wealthy elite because the Mardraggons are elitist.
While the Blackburn fortune isn’t quite as big as the Mardraggons’, we’re doing just fine. You’d never know hanging out with any one of us that we’re multimillionaires. And I don’t want Sylvie to act like she has a silver spoon in her mouth. I want her to be a kid and the best way to make that happen is public school.
“Once she makes friends, she’ll start having more fun here.” Kat works at the label on her bottle. “And I’ll keep trying to get her up on a horse.”
“I was thinking about inviting her to go fishing this weekend.” Trey is the sportsman of the family. Fishing and hunting are his biggest passions outside of horses.
“And we know Mom isn’t going to give up on her. I expect Sylvie’s going to be forced to bake cookies before too long.”
I chuckle at that. Tenacity is definitely handed down in our family and it comes with a fiery passion born of our mom’s Irish roots.
Kat leans over and pats me on the shoulder. “It will be fine. I promise.”
I really wish I believed that.
CHAPTER 7
Ethan
I stare at Sylvie across the kitchen table. She’s gone from sullenly picking at her food to eating with gusto. I know that by no means indicates she’s suddenly become a well-adjusted, happy little girl. In fact, I get the distinct impression this renewed zeal for nourishment is almost her way of getting strong for an epic battle.
She may have started eating with either me or the entire family for every meal, but she still isn’t engaging. She’ll reply to questions with one- or two-word answers, or sometimes we only get a shoulder shrug. If she’s given an open-ended question that requires actual discussion, she’ll often slip into a volley of French that none of us can understand. My little girl spends most of her free time in her bedroom and always has a book in her hand anytime one of us checks on her. The television goes wholly ignored.
My frustrations are high as are those of my parents and siblings. We’re desperate to make a real connection with Sylvie, but we’re also realistic. It’s only been ten days since Alaine died and two days since Sylvie came to live with us. It could take weeks for her to adjust, and we need to give her time.
But… time is ticking. The judge will be evaluating her situation in two short months and I am not a man of patience. Never have been. I’m the type who works hard and pushes even harder to get things done. I don’t know or understand failure and as I sit and watch my daughter eat breakfast—this perfect little stranger with the sharp tongue and wary eyes—I know I’m standing on the precipice of failure.
It is not a feeling that sits well with me, rather leaving me in a foul mood, especially since none of the family joined us this morning. It’s back to normal life on the farm with Kat, Trey and Wade up and at the barn by seven a.m. and our parents running into town to eat at their favorite café. Retired life definitely suits them.
Lifting my coffee mug, I take a sip and stare thoughtfully at Sylvie. She has her head bent over her plate, eating nothing but a sliced baguette with marmalade and fresh fruit. Miranda somehow found out that is Sylvie’s favorite breakfast and provided it this morning.