Casting discretion to the snow-laden wind, Athena met his gaze. “I loved my father very much,” she said. “I still miss him dreadfully. But if I could have a second one, I would choose you.”
“Thank you, my dear. Thank you.” He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “I have seen much in my time. Very little surprises me. Nothing you may say will disturb me, I assure you.”
Athena swallowed. “I hardly know how to begin. Ever since I met you… the circus… I have felt as if you are a second family.”
“As we have felt of you.”
“And… and—” Oh, why did all eloquence desert her at times like this? Yet how often had she spoken with real intimacy to anyone, discussed anything but charitable work, social affairs, fashion, or household management? Among all the women she considered her friends, why would she never dream of confiding in them as she did this garrulous and good-hearted old man?
Because she trusted him—trusted Harry, and Caitlin, even Morgan more than she did her own kind, the very people whom she regarded as her peers.
And she was not ashamed.
“Tell me what you know of Morgan,” she said in a rush. “Where he comes from, who his people were. Please, Harry. I must know.”
“I have been waiting for you to ask that for quite some time, my dear. I will tell you what I know, though in many ways Morgan is as much an enigma to me as to you.”
Athena hugged herself. “I know what he is. It doesn’t shock me—”
“And that is why I find it so easy to love you.”
The lump in Athena’s throat had doubled in size. She tried, and failed, to remember when she had heard such tender words from anyone since Papa’s death. “It is as if he doesn’t wish to speak of his past—not his family or what he wants from life. Why, Harry? What happened to him?”
“No one knows. He came to us as a wolf pursued by hunters, and changed into a man before our eyes. Our troupe has always been a home for those who have no place in the outside world, so naturally we took him in. He felt he owed us a debt, and though he did so reluctantly, he repaid us by becoming our ‘Wolf-Man’ act. He was so successful in drawing audiences that he was almost entirely responsible for saving us from certain ruin. He could have left us many times, and seemed to wish to—and yet he has remained.”
“He cares about you.”
“Yes, though he will not willingly admit it.”
“How did he live before he came to you?”
“That I know. He spent many years as a wolf, among the beasts—deliberately avoiding the haunts of men. But his reasons I cannot tell you. There is great bitterness in him, a desire to see only the worst in mankind.”
“And you always see the best.”
“I try.” He studied his plump, interlaced fingers. “He will not speak of his family, except to say that he lost his parents and sister before he fled to the woods. I suspect some dark tragedy, and that he blames himself. They say there is a boy in every man, and the boy that Morgan was came to manhood in sorrow.” He gave her a sad smile. “Yet there is something in him that allows one to forgive his rough nature. At heart, he is deeply generous and protects those he considers friends, even though he would deny he has any friends at all.”
“And you want to help him,” Athena murmured. “You want to find out why he suffers, and mend it somehow…”
“I am certain that there is only one person in the world who can bring about such healing,” Harry said quietly. “The one he does not believe exists.”
Athena was afraid to decipher his words. “He has never tried to talk to you, as I do now?”
“Never. But in my heart of hearts, I dare to think that he sees me, just a little, as his foster-father.”
“Thank you, Harry.” Despite the brevity of their conversation, Athena felt both drained and exhilarated. Harry loved Morgan. So did Caitlin. What she felt could not be so unthinkable.