Page 139 of The Formation of Us

“Exactly what I’ve always been, Adam, your motherly sister.” And her son by possession. The darling little boy she’d loved and raised from birth.

His nose wrinkled. “Does this make you my grandfather, Mr. Cuvier?”

Warmth filled his eyes and he smiled at Adam. “I’d be honored to be your grandfather.”

Chapter 43

Adam marveled that Faith and his aunts, with the help of Duke’s family and Anna, had made the second floor of the greenhouse into a festive hall. He’d carried up chairs and coffee tables that Faith had grouped around the edges of the room, leaving the middle of the hardwood floor open. But the best part of helping was watching Duke’s brothers and Patrick haul a piano upstairs. When they finally set it down, they were panting and sweating, and Adam was staring with awe. Someday he was going to be strong enough to lift a piano.

“It’s so pretty in here,” Cora said, her eyes wide as she stared at the pine wreaths and ribbons and candles that decorated every wall and table.

It looked kind of bright and girlish to Adam, but he and Cora had sure been enjoying the food table in the back. It was loaded with cookies and pies and food they had never tasted before.

Someone touched his shoulder, and he wheeled around to see if Faith was fussing with his shirt collar again. But it was Rebecca, looking pretty in a green dress and shiny green hair ribbon.

Her eyes were almost as sad as the day he’d told her he couldn’t see her anymore. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

“No,” he said, glad his voice wasn’t croaking as often. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I was just . . . I’ve missed skipping stones and walking to school with you.”

He’d missed it too. Nicholas Archer had been coming around, but it wasn’t the same as being friends with Rebecca.

Cora skipped across the floor to see Amelia’s new baby, leaving him alone with Rebecca.

“Want to go raid the cookie trays together?” she asked with a smile.

He was going to say no, that he’d eaten more than his share, but the hopeful spark in her eyes wouldn’t let him disappoint her. “If you’re allowed to be around me.”

“I’m allowed. Daddy said we can be friends.”

Friends. It was less than he wanted in his heart, but he’d thought he’d lost everything. “Do you want to be friends?” he asked.

“Yes, Adam. But only until I’m sixteen.”

Confused, he wrinkled his nose. “Girls are so odd.”

“When I’m sixteen you can kiss me again.”

His mouth fell open.

“If you want to,” she said.

“Yeah. I mean, sure.” He wanted to kiss her now! “If your dad will let me court you.”

“He will. And when I’m eighteen we can—”

“Gads, Rebecca! Don’t even say it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might be overheard, and . . . gosh, it’s all I’ll be able to think about now.”

She laughed. “Is that bad?”

“It’ll be torture. I’ve got three years to wait before I can even kiss you.”

“Two and a half. I’m thirteen and one-half years old,” she said, spelling it out for him. She stuck out her hand with those pretty long fingers that could skip stones better than Adam sometimes. “Friends?”