enough to see she would rather be anywhere else. The woman usually chattered on about this and that constantly. Her silence was another obvious sign of her discomfort. Was Matthew ignoring his wife or could he just not see it?
“Blake, Sophie has been regaling us with the events of the afternoon.”
He scowled in her direction. “She has, has she?”
“We did get off to a bit of a bad start,” she said, the mischievous gleam in her eye extra bright in an otherwise shadowed room.
He put the tray on the table with a clang and crossed his arms over his chest. “A bit?”
Matthew cleared his throat. “Blake, please sit and eat with us.”
Sophie’s smile drooped just as Blake’s lifted. “Don’t mind if I do.”
They ate in silence for a few moments and Blake was glad to have a moment to gather his thoughts. They were all over the place. On the one hand he was happy that Matthew had reunited with his sister but on the other hand, Matthew had his wife to think of. A wife who was clearly stuck in the middle of this very awkward situation. These were the moments he wished he was a member of their family rather than a close friend. He wanted to speak his mind and tell everyone what he really thought, that they couldn’t play at being a contented family after the damage her departure had left. But he wasn’t family, and he’d already said too much to Sophie as it was.
He couldn’t help watching her as she ate, her eyes closed and a small smile playing over her lips.
“Nice?” he leaned over and asked as he remembered her earlier jibe about his food being bad.
When Sophie opened her eyes her cheeks flushed having been caught in her moment of flavor rapture. “Very. You must have a talented cook.”
“The vegetables are grown right here, in the field behind the kitchen.”
He tried to keep the inflection from his tone, tried to keep it light and nonchalant, but aggression crept its way into his words, though he longed to take them back. She knew where vegetables came from. He wasn’t sure why he felt the sudden need to remind her. Why did he continue to behave like a brute in her presence?
She ignored him anyway and turned to her sister-in-law. “Violet, I bought you a gift before I left London.”
“You did?” Violet said, shock written all over her delicate face.
“A cradle for the baby. It’s really very beautiful, I do hope you like it.”
Surprise filled Violet’s eyes and then was gone, not quite replaced by hostility, but close. “We already have one.”
Sophia hadn’t thought of that. She’d only been thinking to get rid of another reminder of her London life before it drove her insane. That she purchased it for them was only a little white lie. She couldn’t very well reveal over the dinner table that it should have held her own child.
“I am a carpenter, Sophia. I already made us one. Two actually,” Matthew told her with a forced chuckle.
“Of course you did.” She couldn’t meet his eyes nor anyone else’s as her cheeks flushed. From the edge of her vision, something happened between Matthew and his wife.
Violet cleared her throat. “It was a lovely gesture.”
Not by the tone in her voice, but Sophia gave her a half smile anyway and then returned to her meal. She would have to ask Blake to dispose of the cradle so she wouldn’t have to endure the constant sight. This was the first day in a long time that she hadn’t given herself over to tears and grief over the miscarriage she had suffered some months before. She sighed. The day wasn’t done yet.
“What are your plans while you are here, Sophia?” Matthew changed the subject with grace. She could have hugged him.
“I don’t have any.” She wouldn’t admit her only plan had been to rest and try to find direction for her life. To try to find a way to accept her existence would never be the same now that she had come to realize what her choices had robbed her of. Matthew’s invitation had arrived opportunely. She didn’t regret decisions made when she was a scared fourteen-year-old but now she was an adult and had to take matters more firmly in hand. Yet another failed pregnancy had forced her to open her eyes and stop living in the moment, although some days she wished denial still cloaked her.
“You could venture forth and meet