His For Christmas (10 page)

Ivy
stirred,
still
half
asleep,
and
her
hands
clenched
not
into
the
sticky,
perpetually
damp
fabric
of
the
heavy
coat
she
found
lying
outside
the
stables,
but
into
something
soft,
warm,
comforting
…
it
was
such
a
change
that
she
was
convinced
this
was
just
a
dream.

And
if
that
was
the
case,
then
she
didn
’
t
want
to
open
her
eyes.

“
You
don
’
t
say?
Lucy
did
that?
To
her?
”
she
heard
an
older
woman
’
s
voice
close,
somewhere
over
her
head.
“
Of
course
she
would.
I
declare,
ever
since
her
mother
passed
away,
the
girl
turned
into
such
a
spiteful
thing.
No
doubt
due
to
her
venomous
father.
Why,
the
day
they
bury
the
terrible
old
coot,
I
’
ll
dance
on
his
grave,
make
no
mistake.
”

“
Mm.
”
A
masculine
voice,
low
in
timbre,
soft
and
slow.
A
pleasing
tone.
She
couldn
’
t
help
but
wonder
how
his
voice
would
sound
in
melody.
“
You
always
did
know
how
to
make
the
most
scandalous
remarks,
Mrs.
Chang.
”

The
older
woman
huffed.
“
Oh?
And
I
suppose
you
think
differently?
”

“
No
one
likes
him.
”
This
was
a
higher
voice,
perhaps
a
boy.
“
Maybe
that
’
s
why
he
’
s
so
mean
to
everyone.
”

“
Ah,
so
it
’
s
the
cart
before
the
horse
riddle,
then?
”
said
the
woman
with
a
mischievous
lilt
to
her
voice.

The
boy
laughed
and
Ivy
smiled,
settling
deeper
into
the
warm
and,
furthermore,
clean
covers.

What
a
positively
wonderful
dream!
If
only
she
would
never
wake.

“
She
smiled,
”
the
boy
said.
“
I
just
saw
her
smile!
”

Smile?

Her?

This
…
wasn
’
t
a
dream?

There
was
only
one
way
to
find
out.