Free Where Trust Lies (9781441265364) by Laurel Oke Janette; Logan Oke

I’ve held many a baby in my day.” Leaning back in his chair, he bounced JW on his knees, all the while performing a singsong verse in French. His face moved through a range of exaggerated expressions, causing the toddler to giggle in delight.
    Julie remarked, “You must have children, monsieur.”
    A fleeting shadow crossed the man’s face before he could say quietly, “Yes, two sons. But we lost them both in the war.”
    â€œI’m so very sorry,” Margret replied.
    â€œ Merci. ”
    Beth felt her heart constrict at his loss and would like to have known more, but Mother and Mrs. Montclair arrived by taxi just then.
    â€œWelcome to you both. I trust you are enjoying a pleasant morning.”
    â€œGood morning, monsieur.” Mother’s smile looked a bit forced. “I’m confident that it will improve.”
    â€œWe have a car coming to pick us up in ten minutes,” the man said cordially. “We shall have a look around before lunch—and then shopping in the afternoon. Does that suit you all quite well?”
    â€œTen minutes,” Mrs. Montclair repeated. “One can hardly eat in such a short time!”
    â€œOui, madame.” His smile never faded.
    Delighted at his approach with Mrs. Montclair, Beth smiled at him warmly. “Here, monsieur. Let me take JW so that you can gather your things.” But the boy turned away from Beth’s hands and tucked himself up against the guide.
    â€œI believe, Miss Thatcher, that he’s made up his mind,” he said with a laugh.
    Beth’s heart sank. Her nephew had chosen a stranger over an auntie. She hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

Chapter
6
    S IGHTSEEING TURNED OUT TO BE a rather constant battle between Mrs. Montclair and Monsieur Laurent. She would notice a small shop or kiosk nearby, but their guide would move them along, insisting that shopping would take place in the afternoon. Periodically, Mrs. Montclair would simply ignore his instructions and disappear, turning up later with another bag in her hands, seeming pleased with herself for having outwitted Monsieur Laurent.
    When they returned to the hotel for lunch, Beth fell across her bed, fatigued from walking and the constant interruptions of Edward’s mother and Julie’s camera. The new shoes would likely be comfortable once broken in, but today they had left little blisters on the backs of her heels. She wished for a short nap rather than another meal, but rose with a sigh, switched shoes, and followed the others to one of the hotel’s fine dining rooms.
    After lunch, they climbed into taxis for a large shopping area with row upon row of quaint shops and street vendors—a much better site than the morning’s tourist places. Again,with merely a twinkle in his eye, Monsieur Laurent directed them to the best values. Mrs. Montclair looked less smug as she realized here was a far better selection of merchandise at lower prices than her morning purchases.
    Monsieur Laurent waited close at hand, helping to barter for the best value and answer their many questions, particularly interpreting the French signage and currency. Out on the street, Beth was caught by a display of paintings that captured not only the look of the enchanting French city but also something of its mood and character.
    â€œHow much?” She pointed to a favorite and tried her best to pronounce, “ C’est combien? ” Unfortunately, she had not considered that she would not understand the rapid answer given in response. Monsieur smiled and repeated the price in English.
    It’s a suitable amount. Actually, rather inexpensive —though the painting will be bulky to pack. Beth paused to weigh the idea carefully. Perhaps, though, a painting is better for teaching the children about this city than a photograph that’s small and only black-and-white. It would give a beautiful, more accurate impression of