Joey didn’t have to understand all the words to work out the meaning. She maintained her smile and waited while Luke set down his pack and tousled the little girl’s curls with his free hand. He glanced for the first time at Joey, the smile was still there, but this time it seemed all for her—a reassurance, still tinged with warmth.
Luke answered the little girl slowly. Relying on guesswork and tone of voice to follow the conversation, Joey translated silently Joey est mon amie. Joey is my friend That much she understood very well. She basked for a moment in the warmth of Luke’s gaze and then turned back to the girl.
The child looked dubiously from Luke to Joey “Est-ce qu’elle est gentille?”
Luke’s answer was firm but reassuring, telling Claire that Joey was indeed “gentille”—nice—and that Claire should be polite in return “D’accort?” he asked softly
The little girl sighed heavily “Okay.” The accent on the English word gave it a charming lilt, Claire tilted the corners of her mouth in a hesitant smile. Joey returned it and extended her hand. The little girl shuffled for a moment and then placed her own grubby fingers in Joey’s with sudden gravity. “Vous ne pouvez pas parler français, mademoiselle?”
Joey looked helplessly up at Luke, who appeared very close to an outright laugh. He spoke to Claire in French and switched abruptly to English again, almost losing Joey in the process. “She only wanted to know if you spoke French.” The gleam of his green-gold eyes was almost teasing.
Giving Claire’s hand a gentle squeeze, Joey released it. “A little—but right now I wish I’d paid more attention in class,” she muttered wryly. “I’ll bet you’re going to tell me that all your friends who own this land don’t speak English, right?” She stood up slowly, working the kinks out of her legs while the little girl backed up against the solid strength of Luke’s legs, the top of her head just reaching his belt. One of his hands dropped to rest on Claire’s thin shoulder.
“Some of them speak English—of a sort—but there isn’t much need for it here.” At Joey’s pained expression he shook his head. “Don’t worry. We’ll only be spending the night here—and as long as you’re willing to be friendly, you’ll be made welcome.” For a moment there was an odd tone to Luke’s voice, but Joey had no time to consider it. Abruptly he looked down at the top of Claire’s head, tugging gently at one of the errant black curls. “Maintenant, va dire aux autres que nous arrivons.” “Tell the others we’re coming ”
Claire grinned very broadly at his words, did an exuberant little whirl, cast a final uncertain glance at Joey, and dashed off before she could blink.
In spite of the feeling that she was on the verge of something unexpected, Joey couldn’t help smiling after the girl as she vanished as quickly as she had come. She turned back to Luke, watching the slow metamorphosis of his face into the familiar, cool, unreadable expression she had grown accustomed to. Gradually her own smile faded, at that moment she would have given a great deal to have him look at her, again, the way he’d looked at the child—the way he’d looked at her in the child’s presence. Now the mask was back in place, and it created an unexpected ache in Joey’s heart.
As if aware of her melancholy, Luke glanced at her and just as quickly away. In the brief silence he lifted on his pack and adjusted it without meeting her eyes again.
“They’ll be expecting us when we arrive—shouldn’t take more than an hour.” He waited until Joey had donned her pack and then started off without further explanation.
“Just so I’ll know what’s happening, would you mind telling me who ‘they’ are?” Joey breathed, catching up to him. “And who that little girl—Claire—was? You certainly seemed to know each other!”
Luke kept his eyes on the trail ahead of them as he answered. “We’ll be spending the night in Val Cache—the village where Claire lives. You’ll be able to sleep in a real bed for a change.” There was almost a touch of dry humor in his voice. “Claire is my—our relationship is rather complex. We all find it easier to refer to each other as ‘cousins’—even across generations.”