In a different life he'd be at the fair. He'd win her a doll at the ring toss, watch her ride the merry-go-round, astride a horse like the farm girl she'd once been.
He should have gone and damn the young. He worked hard, too. Why didn't he deserve a treat?
He wandered the upstairs halls, touching the pretty things, reminding himself of who and what he was. A voice cried out and he went to answer Miss Sybbie's call, finding the answer to his own questions. Love brought disorder and death.
If only he could keep from craving it.