These cupcakes could be compared to nuclear bombs. Frosting decorates the girls' fingers and the spoon handle more than the cupcake tops. Nathan watches the mess grow in dismay, and I can't help but smirk at his adorableness.
"It needs some more." Allie scoops a snowball-sized glob onto the cupcake, and the other girls gasp in surprise. "I can pile mine higher," Anna challenges.
"Just don't pile it too high though," Nathan intercedes, his eyes prying wider every second. "Oh, yeah, watch this."
"No, Allie, don't..that's a lot, " Nathan is having a fit as the girl scoops up even more frosting, "Allie, come on!"
"You have frosting on your face!" Opal smiles at her friend, and Allie wipes some of the mess onto the small girl's nose. "So do you." I take this moment to secretly dip my entire hand into the frosting bowl in my arms. "Allie, don't use your fingers on her-"
I interrupt Nathan from getting too upset, "Children! I have something very important to say." The laughter dies down, and Nate scoffs, brows twisted deep. "How did you do that?"
I snort, "It's not really something I can talk about." The glare he gives me after that makes laugh even more. "I know, typical of me right?" He throws and eyeroll, and the girls are still quiet as caterpillars. "Now, I think Nate here...doesn't have enough frosting on on his face." I raise my hand full of icing up to his cheek, and squish the sugary substance onto to his nose. Giggles erupt from the table, and Nate's pouty lip comes out. "Oh, I know...you need a beard. Let's arrange that for you." His hand grips my wrist, seriousness masking his amusement. We stay in this position for a moment, with me grinning like an idiot. The next thing I know, there is a wet sensation on my forehead. I gaze up cross-eyed, gasping in surprise at what he did. He took some from the bowl too.
"It's only fair." Nathan samples the flavor on his lips. "Tastes pretty nice."
We all enjoy the rest of the decorating, and when the event is finished, Nate sends them all up to Allie's room. "Lights out in twenty alright?" He shouts up the stairs, and all I hear is the beginnings of a pillow fight. Nate let me linger around when I brought the cupcakes over here, and I gladly jumped up to help the girls tonight, but I suspect it could have been because he needed more help than they did. "Are you going to be able to handle them?"
He glimpses at me, "I think so."
"Or you hope so."
"Maybe," he admits, "Look, I wanted to apologize for Archie this afternoon." I can tell he is worried about how I will respond. I did not expect he would want to mention the scene. The ordeal never bothered me in the slightest, but I recognize that it is a wound Nathan carries, and it bothers him a great deal. With a cloth, I wipe off left over icing from his chin, and he halts my effort with his own hand; the touch is tender and kind. "Sorry..." I fold the cloth and hand it to him. "Nate, what happened between you and your father is your business, but I'm here if you want to talk about it." I collect my things into the basket I brought over, and I leave the conversation there, not feeling the pull to break the silence.
"You know when I was Allie's age, I remember finding my mother in tears," The mounty's voice turns my attention back toward him. I see his heart opening up before my eyes. "It was because my father pawned a ruby brooch he got for her to pay a gambling debt. Instead of getting better, it just got worse and worse until he was found stealing from the bank he worked at."
I draw in a deep breath, "I take it that wasn't the only time he was sent to prison. The pain wouldn't be so strong if it had been." He shakes his head, confirming my statement. "You're right about that. After he got out, no bank would hire him. He resorted to petty theft just to put food on our table..."
"...You're trying to protect Allie from a broken heart." His shoulders shrink from the gravity of the situation, and I scramble for the honest words racing in my mind.
"Part of being a parent, Nate, is to prepare a child for the hard things in life. You may think telling her in the future is wise, and it is if time afforded it, but your father is here now." I hold myself together by crossing my arms in front of me. "If you don't be honest with her, she may be desperate enough to go searching for answers on her own.
"There is no force stronger than a young girl who needs a mother. Even the smallest story is a treasure to her right now." I am getting a little long-winded tonight, but I was honest with him. I don't expect much to change, or for things to be less difficult for him to work through, but I hope he takes it with dignity and allows the wheels to click in his mind.
Nathan's mouth tightens into a polite smile, but remains quiet. We stare at one another, but it isn't uncomfortable. There is no tension or awkwardness, just the two of us, and the tumble of five girls rolling on the floor upstairs. I don't think I truly love Lucas. I have never loved a man so completely that I was willing to sacrifice my life for him. To choose to love him even when his opinion opposes my own. I'm too stubborn for that, but seeing Nathan makes me desire to change. This night is different, and I realize how much I dream, assuming it to become reality. Life and love is not a dreamy castle on a hill with a shining knight holding a flag; it is a rugged mountain with a siege tower, and a knight in blood-soaked armor, thrusting his blade for battle.
"I have an idea." I continue to stare at him. I don't usually have too much trouble reading someone's thoughts or emotions, but a shadow passes over his stormy eyes, and it leaves me uncertain. "What's that?" His body language is open, so I proceed.
"I think you need a quiet and restful night of sleep. I can stay here with the girls for the night, and keep an eye on them." He seems very reluctant already. "You go over to my place. You can sleep in my bed. I changed the sheets yesterday."
"I really don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to impose and-"
"Nate, if I thought you would be imposing, I wouldn't have offered in the first place," I chuckle, "I'm pretty simple like that." He appears to have difficulty deciding what to do. "I want to help you, Nate."
His fists are on his hips, and he sighs to himself. I fear I have overstepped my bounds before he snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why do you call me that?" The creak in the basket of cupcake supplies echoes when I place it on the table, and to release the weight from my feet bones, I lean on the nearest chair. "Is that a yes?"
Nathan nods, and I pump my fist in the air. She shoots. She scores! "Just let me grab a few things, and you are welcome to go over there whenever you are ready." I return with a new set of clothes in my arms and my nightgown. I brushed my teeth over at my house, and the time is about twenty minutes since Nate gave the warning to the girls about going to bed. He is about to shout up there again, but I rest a hand on his chest before he is able to. "I'll take care of things from here."
When I open the bedroom door, a pillow whaps me in the face, and my expression snarls into a grimace. Opal is the perpetrator, and her horror displays itself in her string of apologies. "I believe it is time to settle down ladies."
"I really am sorry miss Sutton, I didn't mean to hit you." Tears flicker, and her eyes become red.
"Oh, sweety, I'm not even hurt. I forgive you," I assure her, "would anyone like me to braid their hair before bed?" Five hands shoot up, ecstatic at my willingness to do the task. "Alright, the host of the sleepover is first." Allie huddles up in front of me whilst I sit on her bed. The other girls take the time to reorganize their bedding as I instructed them to. I part Allie's thick hair down the middle, then weave strands back and forth from both sides to make a fishtail braid. It takes a little longer than a normal braid, but the end result is worth it. Anna is next; she requests a French Braid.
The other girls start to get rowdy again, when I finish Anna's, and start to part Emily's hair. "Emily, when I am finished, would you be willing to alert the other girls that it is story time? If they would like to hear it, they need to get into their beds." The girl accepts the task, and I twist the last section of waves into the braid. I fell in love with my mother's fingers teasing through my hair as a child, and I learned how to do different kinds of braids for this reason. I always hoped, whenever I would have my own daughter one day, that I could braid her hair all the time. I have practiced on Sol's niece often enough, since it was difficult with my own short hairstyle. A year of living in Hope Valley, my hair is now half-an-inch past my shoulder. I have always had fast-growing hair. I don't mind the length much anymore. It used to bother me the first few months, but now it is normal, and I believe I will let it grow out past my waist if possible.
Nathan embarks into the empty house, a single candle is lit on the dining table, an open book beside it. He takes a moment to peek at the title, "Floral and Herbal Remedies". He didn't know she was interested in herbs. Nathan is grateful for Nyrah's offer to stay with the girls tonight, but guilt washes over him all the same. He should not have given in so easily, but she caught on that he needs the space to clear his head. It seems selfish to have accepted her proposal, to invade her home like a spy. Not that he is one. The mounty carries his clothes and the glowing candle upstairs. He finds a quaint little room. Papers litter all the cranies and corners, acting as placemats over her desk. Sewing designs and measurements clutter the bedside table. Pin cushions and fabric lie dormant in the stomach of a large basket. Other than the clutter and the furniture, there is nothing else in the way of decoration, which surprises him. He assumed that all women love decorations and knick-knacks. He relaxes, content with the simplicity. Sketches of lavender landscapes and a mountain valley are are magnets to his eyes. Every shade is precise, and each line tells a story. Hidden beneath the mountain picture, is a portrait of Nathan on his horse, which causes his chest to puff out, pleased to see this in her collection, until he notices another portrait with Lucas checking the time on his silver pocketwatch. The third and final portrait is of Jude, but the face has been scribbled out, unidentifiable, so Nathan cannot be certain it is of him. He writes a note in his mind, to not get on Nyrah's bad side ever again. Nathan sets the pictures back in their place, not wanting to rifle through her things too much.
The mattress is soft, and for a moment, he wonders if he will sink into it, and drown. About to blow out the light, his fingers brush against leather beneath the pillow before it happens. A tiny leather journal rests in his palm. The closed book tethering to his curiosity, he debates between the two courses of action to take. What if it is a diary? He doesn't want to pry into her personal life, but what if this is his only chance to find out if she has feelings for him? He decides he would only peek at the first and last entry.
Nyrah's Journal Entry:
Dates are pretty relative here for me, so I won't bother with dating these entries.
Today was...interesting. I try to keep a positive outlook on life, so another word I would use to describe it, is "boring."
I suppose I did purchase this journal today, but I am not like Elizabeth. This journal is one of necessity rather than pleasure.
I have been here for six months now, and I love the people here. Lucas especially. He is fun, and understanding, and we had a delightful conversation about museums the other day.
Museums indeed. Nathan slams the book shut, wondering why he should be surprised that Lucas is the first thing she writes about. That man ruins everything. In another circumstance, the two of them could have been friends, instead, it is this awkward civility. Rivalry.
Once Nathan steels himself for the final written account, he flicks pages till he finds it.
Nyrah's Journal Entry:
After I lost sight of Jude, and Nate escorted me home, I finally read the most recent note from Jude. It wasn't his typical "You are beautiful" note. It said, "You have been chosen." I don't want to know what that means.
Jude Wesley said that he was the reason I was sent to the past. I saw his face at the bridal party. My intuition whispers to me, that I will not see him for a long time. There was never any novel he wanted write, but what does he get from all of this? Why did he take me from another world and time? I wish I could cuddle into the couch back home and use the ice-cream scoop as a spoon. I wouldn't mind playing a little Wii as well. I never could get into the habit of reading on a Kindle.