“I’ll keep your food warm,” Clara offered.
“Thank you. Finish up, Ivy, almost bath time,” Eden said.
“Okay, Momma.” Ivy nodded. “Night, Lily.”
Lily smiled at Ivy, her little legs kicking as Eden held her close and carried her from the kitchen. She kissed her baby girl’s temple as they crossed the great room and headed to their suite, loving Lily’s weight in her arms, her sweet baby smell a comfort.
“Ma-ma-ma-ma,” Lily said, tugging a fistful of Eden’s hair.
“That’s me,” Eden agreed, gently removing her hair from Lily’s hold. “I’m your momma, little bug.” She kissed her daughter’s temple, thinking about the kiss Renata Boone had given her own father.
She hadn’t wanted to get personal. She didn’t want to talk about Clark or her family. These were good people. And she was deceiving them. Something she’d never planned on doing. Something that was growing increasingly difficult to do.
Having dinner with the Boones was no longer an option. Or spending time with the family, beyond what was required for work. Her stomach felt leaden.
If only she could forget what Renata had said that first night. If she could forget that her mother was directly involved with the refuge, maybe she wouldn’t feel as conflicted as she was beginning to feel. And yet, she worried about what she might find out. Her mother hadn’t been happy in her marriage... She thought about Teddy Boone. The man was everything her father wasn’t. Warm, kind and handsome. Had her mother been unfaithful? And could Eden live with that? She knew how degrading it felt to be the one cheated on.
Maybe there were some things best left alone. Things like second-guessing her goals. And Archer Boone. Definitely Archer Boone. She needed to focus and finish up so she could leave—before things got complicated.
She pressed a kiss to Lily’s forehead and gathered supplies for bath. “Bath time, Lily.” Lily grinned, all dimples, blond curls and wide eyes. “Ba-la-ma-ba-ba.”
Eden giggled, wondering how Ivy would translate that one. No more focusing on things that didn’t matter. Her job, her girls—that was enough; it had to be.
* * *
ARCHER HELD A pink crayon out to Ivy.
“Tank you,” she said.
Archer watched her color like mad, not bothering to point out she was coloring outside the lines. She was three. And she was enjoying herself. That, to Archer’s mind, was enough.
“Baby goats are loud,” she said, not bothering to stop coloring. “Are horses loud, too?”
“They can be,” he said, trading her pink for a green.
“Horses are bigger,” Ivy said, looking at him. “Giants.”
Compared to a goat, yes. He nodded.
“Momma said the big black horse is sad.” She started coloring again.
The black horse? Fester? Eden had told Ivy about Fester? He smiled. “Why is he sad?”
“Momma says he’s scared of being alone.” Ivy sat back, inspecting her coloring book. “Pupple, please?”
He was scared of being alone... “Pupple?” he repeated, putting on his reading glasses to read the name colors on the crayon wrappers.
Ivy reached over him for a crayon. “Pup-ple,” she said.
He smiled, nodding. “Purple.”
She went back to coloring her flowers.
“All done, Miss Ivy?” Clara said. “How about I give you your bath so your momma can eat.”
“Okay,” Ivy said. “Put up my colors first.”
Archer held the box while she shoved all of her crayons inside.