Jean-Paul shrugged with the awkwardness typical of boys his age, glancing shyly at Joey. “I am very pleased to meet you, mademoiselle.” The words were accented, pleasantly so, Luke had no accent when he spoke English, and Joey never would have guessed, knowing nothing of his background, that he had grown up with any language other than her own.
She grinned at Jean-Paul and said admiringly, “That’s very good. I wish I could speak French as well as you speak English!”
The boy blushed deeply and, as if the praise were too much, backed away with a final half-apologetic glance at Luke. Luke waved him off, and the boy vanished, tumbling straightaway into a game with a small knot of children near the fireside.
Abruptly Claire, who had been listening to the conversation with impatient squirms, slid off the bench beside Joey and reappeared at Luke’s side, worming her way into his lap. “Raconte-moi une histoire des gens du Dehors, Luc!” Her voice was demanding, but Luke shook his head.
“Plus tard.” And at the girl’s pout, he added, “Promis.” Joey caught the gist of the words and envied the little girl that she could settle so comfortably into Luke’s embrace and look forward to hearing him tell her bedtime stones—that their relationship was so warm and simple. So painless.
As if the brief exchange had satisfied her need for attention, Claire wriggled free of Luke’s arms and dashed off to join the others in their play, accompanied by the younger boy.
Joey sighed, her contentment tinged with melancholy. “Claire is a beautiful gir.l She’ll grow up to be a real stunner someday.”
“Much like my mother,” Luke murmured. “With the same wildness. She won’t be content to stay here forever.”
There was such sadness in his voice that Joey turned to face him. She longed to ask him then what brought that distant regret to his eyes, to link her arm through his and lean her head on his shoulder. But she contented herself with feeling his thigh and shoulder against hers, in knowing he did not pull away from the contact.
“The children here are beautiful, Luke. And it’s pretty obvious they’re loved.” And that they adore you, she added silently to herself. “But there seem to be so few of them.”
She knew she’d hit close to the mark when Luke focused on her suddenly, though without surprise. “Yes. Too few” He dropped his eyes to the half-empty bowl of stew on the table and lifted a spoon to stir it absently. “This is a very old village. It hasn’t changed much in a hundred years. The people here are content to keep it that way.” He looked up with the distant expression that meant he was gathering his thoughts. “They’re used to hardship and to living the same way their forefathers did. They’re survivors. But in spite of all that, the village is slowly dying.”
Joey glanced around her at the clumps of chattering people clearing away dishes and making a game of cleaning up. Someone was tuning what sounded like a fiddle, and laughter rose frequently above the dull roar. It was hard to think of these people as dying. They seemed so full of life.
“It’s because there are so few children,” Luke said, so softly that she had to strain to hear him. “The people here are nearly all closely related. Very few women have more than one or two children. Often, sometimes every year, Val Cache will lose a young man or woman to the Outside. And Jean-Paul is not the first to be educated, to learn things that may tempt him to leave one day.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Joey settled closer to Luke, resting her fingers on his arm. He hardly seemed to notice. “You came back, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” The word was heavy, laden with regret. Joey knew there was more to that one word than she could guess. She looked around again, at children clearly indulged and greatly valued, at adults who treated them with respect and open affection. But there were few of them—and fewer still of babies and toddlers.
Biting her lip, Joey hesitated on the verge of offering comfort she was not quite sure how to give. After a moment she decided she wanted to see him smile again, to regain that relaxed warmth the children had brought out in him. She squeezed his arm.