Free Finding Gabriel by Rachel L. Demeter Page A

content; she envied their peace of mind greatly. Lying on her stomach, Emmaline was thumbing through a colorful storybook. Oliver snored in his sleep, oblivious to the surrounding tension. And indeed, Ariah had never known more tension than in the presence of that man. “Well, quite simply, pride is an affliction that gentlemen too often suffer from.”
    Miriam laughed aloud at the comment. It was a rich, lively sound, and Ariah immediately wished her sister would laugh more.
    “Oh. What is affliction, Maman?”
    Ariah eased over to the fire and rekindled the flames as she spoke. “Well … an affliction is something that causes a person to have great distress or pain.”
    Emmaline fell silent as the words sank in. Then she puckered her lips and smoothed her palm over Oliver’s rugged coat. “Do I have affliction, too?”
    The innocent remark was a knife to Ariah’s heart. All humor evaporated from the room. She exchanged glances with Miriam and fought to bring herself to answer. “Why … why, no. Not at all, ma petite .” Ariah lowered onto her knees. Firelight danced across the floorboards, long and graceful in its movements. Those wavering flames drew her in and warmed her spirit. Grasping the blanket, Emmaline sat up and hauled both legs against her thin torso.
    Touching the middle of her daughter’s chest, Ariah said, “But I will tell you what you do have. A kind heart and bravery.” Then she touched her forehead. “And a keen mind, and the cutest little nose I have ever laid eyes on.” Ariah ended her ministrations by reaching out and squeezing the tip of said nose.
    Emmaline giggled, her frail shoulders trembling with cheer. Then a fit of coughs replaced the laughter and overcame her tiny body. Swept with emotion, Ariah secured her daughter against her chest and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.
    “Maman,” Emmaline began after the coughs subsided, “why is that man here? Is he gonna live with us now?”
    Ariah briefly met eyes with her sister. “Well, ma petite , he’s been hurt, and we are going to help him get better. Isn’t that the nice thing to do?”
    Curls bounced about Emmaline’s shoulders as she enthusiastically nodded.
    “That’s my good girl.” Ariah smiled, pushed a lock from her daughter’s brow, and awarded her with a kiss. “Oh, dear me,” she whispered against Emmaline’s skin. “I believe you may be warming up again. Go get into bed.”
    Chewing on her bottom lip, Emmaline rose from the floor, brushed off her nightdress, and yawned wide.
    Latching onto Emmaline’s forearm, Ariah said, “Listen to me carefully, darling. I don’t want you going in there again. Not for any reason. Do you understand?”
    “Mmhmm.” Emmaline paused for a moment and appeared to grow thoughtful. “How long shall he be here?”
    “As long as he needs to be. Now no more questions about him.”
    Emmaline’s mouth lifted into a small, contemplative smile. “I think I like him. He reminds me of Papa.”
    Ariah doubted that Emmaline remembered anything of Jacques; he’d been absent for more than three years, and all that remained was his military portrait. Regardless, Ariah felt the color drain from her skin. Harnessing back her emotions, she shook her head and gently patted Emmaline’s hand. “His uniform,” she corrected, “you mean his uniform reminds you of Papa.” Twisting the material of her skirts, she glanced helplessly at her sister. “See, darling – they are both soldiers. Nothing more. You understand?”
    Emmaline shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so.”
    •
    Gabriel didn’t sleep that evening. Instead, he lay awake in deep contemplation, staring at the cracked ceiling that loomed overhead. Pale strands of moonlight seeped through the window and hurled wavering shadows along the walls. The oil lamp had burned out hours ago, sentencing the chamber to darkness.
    Thoughts of Ariah and his past invaded his mind, refusing to grant him rest. He wanted to hate her –