A Lasting Impression

like.”
    Touched by her response, Sutton withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “This statue isn’t in memory of those children, Claire.”
    She turned and looked at him, confusion in her expression.
    “Joseph and Adelicia had twin girls. Born to them in”—he thought back, remembering he was around twelve at the time—“about fifty-two, I think . . . at Angola Plantation in Louisiana. The twins were just two years old when they died. Both from scarlet fever. And only a couple of weeks apart.”
    Remembering Adelicia’s special request of the sculptor, Sutton leaned forward to see the front of the statue. And sure enough, there were the girls’ first names. He pointed.
    “Laura and Corinne,” Claire whispered, running her finger over the engraving.
    “And on the back—” He looked to be sure. “She asked him to inscribe ‘Twin Sisters.’ Which he did.”
    Claire moved to see, wiping moisture from her cheeks. “You said Mrs. Acklen doesn’t know this has arrived yet.”
    “No, I haven’t told her. I didn’t know until after I left the—” He caught himself in time. “The office in town.”
    Claire nodded. “Do you know if she has a place in mind for it?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Well, I have one,” she said softly, smoothing her palm over the Sleeping Children again. “Do you have a base built for this yet?”
    He shook his head. “Why?”
    “Because I’d like to do something special for Mrs. Acklen, Sutton. To show her my appreciation.” She half laughed, half sighed. “I can’t buy the woman anything she can’t buy for herself a thousand times over.”
    Sutton understood that only too well.
    “But I can do this for her, if you’ll let me. All I need is a few days.”

38

    A re you certain you have time for this?”
    Hearing the excitement in Claire’s voice, Sutton adjusted a stirrup to accommodate her stature, admiring the glimpse of her lovely calf before she smoothed her skirts. “I should be asking you that question. Seems you’re as busy as I am these days, if not more so.”
    She shifted in the saddle. “I could hardly sleep last night for thinking about this!”
    He’d been looking forward to their first lesson too, and had ridden out to the meadow late yesterday evening to set up various-sized stacks of logs. And this after telling Claire, not five days ago, that he wouldn’t have time for a lesson this week, or anytime soon. He’d responded to her in a moment of frustration and had since apologized. Twice.
    He needed this time with her. Conflict seemed to be hitting on all sides these days, and she helped to balance the parts of his life that were coming apart.
    He hadn’t told her about the review board’s decision yet. He hadn’t told anyone. Not even Bartholomew Holbrook. He knew he needed to, but he’d also needed time to accept this new reality. Not that he had a choice. The loss of his family’s land had hit him harder than he thought it would.
    In a way, it felt as if he were losing his father all over again. With the sadness and grief came renewed anger—and a profound sense of disappointment in himself.
    He hadn’t decided yet whether to tell her about the report from his colleague. Adelicia had read the findings and was satisfied—as was he—and said she saw no need to tell Claire about it. “This is a procedure that we insist every employee undergo, Mr. Monroe. We’ve not yet felt a need to tell an employee prior to this. Why should you feel a compulsion to do so now?”
    The way Adelicia had looked at him, the smartness in her tone, had told him she knew—or at least suspected—about his feelings for Claire. He’d told her about his and Cara Netta’s decision to rescind their understanding, and she’d been disappointed. But to Adelicia’s credit, she hadn’t broached the subject again.
    “ Oh . . . you’re such a handsome fella,” Claire cooed in a sultry voice.
    Sutton looked up to see her stroking Truxton’s neck and running her fingers through his mane. He exhaled. All that woman . . . wasted on a horse.
    “All right, Captain Laurent. Just a few reminders . . .” Truxton whinnied and tossed his head, and Sutton held him by the bridle. “Truxton’s experienced at jumping, so he already knows what to do. That’s the beauty of learning to jump on a horse that’s trained. But when they have a rider—”
    “Like moi, ” Claire said, grinning.
    Sutton gave her a look that said to please pay