Pleasing the Colonel (8 page)

“Agreed.”

She took the lead rope and led Dusty out of the stable into the open air. Rosie had a huge smile on her face as she held the reins.

“Not so tightly, no—hold right here,” the Colonel corrected Rosie's grasp on the reins. “Now sit taller. Sit straight through your spine. That's it. You're leaning to one side. Move to your left. Your
left
!”

Rosie struggled to follow her father's barked commands, getting more and more anxious. Dusty pulled at the lead rope to look back at his rider. Mandy corrected the pony and soothed him by stroking his head.

“All right, now move the reins this way to show him how to turn. More.
More
.”

So the lesson continued, with the Colonel giving the commands and his daughter trying her best to follow them. By the time he helped her down, the little girl's smiles had disappeared completely and she looked rather withdrawn.

“All right, Tom, are you ready for a turn?”

The little boy, normally fearless to try anything, looked doubtful. “I want to go with Miss Downy.”

“Yes, dear, I will walk with you, just like I did for Rosie.

“No, I want
only
Miss Downy,” the boy insisted.

“Don't be ridiculous,” the Colonel snapped and lifted the boy onto the pony. He placed the reins in his little hands and kept one hand on his back to hold him in place as Mandy slowly led the pony around. Tom didn't make a single sound and his face was screwed up tightly with nerves. After walking him back and forth a bit, the Colonel deemed the lesson over and lifted the child down.

“Rosie, would you like another turn?”

“No, sir,” the child mumbled.

“It takes practice to become a good rider, Rosie. If you're going to be lazy about it, I'm not going to take the time to teach you.”

At that, Rosie's face slowly crumpled as she appeared to be trying not to cry.
Curse him!
Mandy shot a nasty look at the Colonel as she put her hand on Rosie's shoulder and turned her toward the manor. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go have a cup of chocolate,” she said, holding her other hand out behind her for Tom to catch as he ran up to them.

At dinner that night, Tom chattered excitedly about riding Dusty to his Aunt. “His name is Dusty,” he told her. “And he's very tall. And I learned to make this noise,” he said clicking his tongue as if urging the pony along.

Miss Watson laughed and said, “That's perfect, Tom!”

Tom climbed to his knees on his chair to look at her better and in the process, knocked over his glass of milk.

“Tom, sit down! Look what you've done now!” the Colonel barked at him. The boy, who'd had a rather long day with the riding lesson, burst into a loud wailing cry. “That's enough!” the Colonel snapped.

Mandy had righted the glass immediately and was mopping up the spilled milk with a napkin. Julie appeared in the doorway at the sound of Tom's cries, ready to whisk him away. Mandy stood up herself, scooping Tom into her arms. “I'll take him, she said grimly to Julie, then glared at the Colonel as she marched out. Really, that man was too much! It was one thing to be stern with the staff, but his children were simply children. He had absolutely no sensitivity to their feelings, nor had he really tried to get to know them in any meaningful way.

She carried Tom upstairs and rocked him to sleep in the nursery. Julie appeared with Rosie in tow and put her to bed. She sat beside the girl's bed after Julie had kissed her goodnight and left. “Your papa loves you very much,” she said.

Rosie looked at her, as if measuring the truth of her words. The child was only seven but already she was perceptive enough to know when an adult was just saying something to make her feel better. “It's true,” she said firmly. “He just doesn't know how to act around children. He's been ordering around soldiers for years now, and he needs to be taught how to treat a child.”

“Who is going to teach him?” Rosie asked.

She met the girl's frank stare and took a deep breath. “I guess that's my job,” she said resolutely. “I will go speak with him now,” she said, kissing the girl's forehead and then standing up.

* * *

“Come in,” the Colonel called to the knocking on his study door.

Miss Downy entered, looking disgruntled. “I'd like a word with you, if you don't mind.”

He set down the paper he was reading. “No, I don't mind. Would you care to sit down?”

“No, I wouldn't,” she said firmly and started pacing around his room. “I think you probably already know that—that I find you more than a little frightening.”

He raised his eyebrows. Whatever he'd expected she might say, it was not this.

“Well, I do. And I'm fairly certain your entire staff does, too. You never laugh, you rarely smile, and hearing praise from you is so unusual that I assume it's not genuine when it is given.”

He frowned and was about to tell her she was completely out of line, but she interrupted him.

“None of that would matter to me, except that it affects your children. Your
children
, Colonel. They're just children! You simply must be a little more sensitive when dealing with them. They are not soldiers.”

“Are you referring to the riding lesson?” he demanded, trying to understand where her ire had originated.

“It's not just that! They hardly know you after you've been away at war for over a year, and then you come marching into their lives, issuing commands without even trying to understand them!”

He stared at her. “What
exactly
has upset you?”

“Upset me?” she asked, looking disconcerted. “I'm not upset, the children are. Well, yes, it's about the riding lesson—but it's about more than that. Have you tried spending time just playing with them, or laughing, or reading to them?”

He opened his mouth, but she plunged on. “No, you have not. They only hear from you when you are displeased. You really don't know them at all. Do you have any idea that Rosie has two loose teeth, for example? Or that Tom is afraid of thunder?” She paused, her arms folded across her chest. “Do you know what their favorite things to eat are? Or how easy it is to make them laugh?”

He narrowed his eyes, standing up from behind the desk. “Why are
you
so upset, Miss Downy?”

“I'm not—well, it's just that I care,” she said and then flushed, “—about the children, I mean—not about you. I mean, I do care about you—” She flushed even deeper. “For heaven's sake, Colonel Watson, this is not about me!” she snapped shrilly.

“Kindly mind your tone when you speak to me,” he said quietly.

“I apologize,” she said, swallowing. “But you are the only parent Tom and Rosie have. They do not have a mother to reassure them that their Papa is not really to be feared. No mother to tell them that he may seem gruff, but he's actually the kindest man she knows.”

He was vaguely pleased to hear that she found him kind. But then she ruined it by appearing suddenly shocked and saying, “Or perhaps their mother was afraid of you too?”

Hearing her mention Gracie angered him. “You have no right—” he thundered, but the fear on her face made him stop and take a deep breath.

“I know I don't,” she whispered, backing toward the door. “But I promised Rosie I would talk to you.”

That cut him to the heart. Rosie had asked for help? With him? The pain of it burned him and he hardly noticed as Miss Downy slipped out the door. He sat down at his desk, his eyes burning. Perhaps he was too gruff with the children. He put his head in his hands. He suddenly missed Gracie as deeply as he had during the months right after her death. Miss Downy was right—his children needed their mother. And more importantly, so did he. Without Gracie, he was utterly lost with their children.

He tossed and turned all night, alternating between feeling guilty, composing an angry defense to Miss Downy, and in his better moments, thinking about how he could make things better for the children. There were also thoughts about Miss Downy's blush when she'd said she didn't care about him. Why had she made such an impassioned plea? Did she care more than she admitted? But that line of thinking was irrelevant, because he wasn't going to pursue Miss Downy. He'd already experienced the pain of losing a wife—he had no interest in opening himself up to that sort of pain a second time. Except that he found that the more he turned all the thoughts over in his head, the more he became clear that he cared very much about Miss Downy's impression of him. It disturbed him greatly to think that she was truly afraid of him, and that she did not think he was a good father to his children.

He woke the next morning feeling as confused as he'd been the night before.

“Good morning, Lucinda, Miss Downy,” he said stiffly at the breakfast table.

Miss Downy's butter knife clattered to the floor and she looked flustered. “Oh! Oh dear. Good morning, Colonel,” she said, ducking her head under the table to retrieve it. He sat down and noted that though she seemed to be stealing glances at him when he wasn't looking, she refused to meet his eye. He felt a wave of reluctant gratitude that she had spoken to him, despite her fears. She truly cared about his children—if not him. The trouble was, he was starting to want her to care about him.

Deciding a ride would clear his head, he went to the stables and had Banto saddled. He took off without a particular direction in mind and ended up riding past his neighbor's property. He saw his neighbor's children—who were almost too old to be out romping around—playing with a dog. He slowed his horse to watch. A dog. Yes! It would be a perfect way to lighten the mood with his children. He recalled hearing his neighbor say that they'd had a litter of collie puppies. He led his horse up to the children to inquire and left with a squirming, happy little puppy tucked inside his coat.

He returned home and left the puppy with the groom in the stable before entered the manor, feeling as eager as a child himself. “Where are the children, Julie?”

“Tom is still napping, sir,” Julie told him, “and Rosie is right here in the kitchen with me.”

“Rosie,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “When Tom wakes up, I want you both to come find me. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Rosie asked eagerly. “What is it?”

He laughed. “If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it? I don't want to show you without Tom, so be sure to find me as soon as he's awake.”

“All right, Papa,” Rosie said, skipping around the room. “I wonder what it could be?” she asked pointedly, but he just shook his head and smiled. He went to his study to wait.

In about a half an hour, he heard both children clamoring down the hallway toward his study, talking excitedly.

“Papa, Papa! Where's Papa?” he heard Tom shout excitedly.

“Wait! He's this way—in the study!”

Chuckling, he headed out and met with the two eager children, as well as Julie and Miss Downy, all clustered around to see what the surprise was.

“Are you ready for your surprise?”

“Yes, Papa!” the children chorused. He led them out of the manor toward the stables. When he got there, he opened the door and retrieved the wriggling puppy, who was making a tiny, high-pitched yipping sound. The children went wild with excitement and he noted with satisfaction the look of delight on Miss Downy's face as well.

* * *

The Colonel gently handed the puppy to Rosie, and Tom became very angry and impatient, pulling at his sister's arms.

“Wait, wait, it's all right,” Mandy soothed him. “Here, sit down, Rosie, so you both can play with him.”

“Her, actually,” the Colonel said. He had a smile on his face, which transformed him completely, and she found herself staring for a moment, contemplating how handsome he was. She was thrilled about the puppy—not only because she loved puppies and this one was adorable, but her heart was also fluttering happily in her chest because the Colonel had truly listened to her.

“She's a collie,” he told the children. “They came from Scotland, originally. They're sheep herding dogs.”

“Are we going to get sheep?” Rosie asked eagerly.

The Colonel threw back his head and laughed. “No, I got her as a pet for you two.”

“What do you say to your father?” Mandy prompted.

Rosie set the puppy down and scrambled to her feet, throwing her arms around her father's waist. “Thank you, Papa,” she said. Tom followed suit, wrapping his little arms around his father's leg, which was as high as he could reach. “Thank you, Papa,” he said in his sweet little voice.

The Colonel patted both of them. “You're welcome,” he said. He hesitated a moment, then he sat down on the ground with the children to their great delight. “What shall we name her?” he asked.

The puppy ran in circles, then stopped and yipped. “Let's name her Barkley,” Rosie said.

“Barkley… that's a nice name. What do you think, Tom?” the Colonel asked.

“Yes, we can name her Barkley because she barks,” he said excitedly, trying to catch the quick little wriggling animal. The Colonel caught Barkley and set him in Tom's lap, but the excited puppy could not be contained. They laughed as she scrambled out, running from one to the other of them, trying to lick and jump, wagging her tiny tail. The Colonel lay back in the grass, resting his head in his interlaced hands, watching. The puppy scrambled up on his chest and tried to lick his face and he pushed it away with a laugh. Tom thought that was very funny and he leapt on top of his father's chest as well.

“Oomph! Not the knees, son. Try again—jump on me, but land with your belly. Oomph! Your belly, not your knees,” he laughed. “Your knees hurt Papa.”

Mandy was so touched by the scene that tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She looked around for Julie and saw that the nursemaid had faded into the background, leaning against the side of the manor. She realized she ought to do the same thing and started walking away, but the Colonel called her back. “Don't go, Miss Downy,” he said softly.

She smiled and returned to sit down with the three of them. The truth was, she couldn't wait to get her hands on that adorable puppy. She held it and stroked it and cuddled it until it calmed down a bit and then she set it in Rosie's lap, stroking the soft fur and murmuring to the little puppy until it closed its eyes and fell asleep. “Puppies sleep a lot,” she told the children. “She just used up all her energy playing with you and now she needs a short rest,” she smiled. “Just like Tom needs a short rest after lunch.”