Beverly Byrne by Come Sunrise Read Free Book Online

produced lumpy
misshapen spheres that wouldn't hold together.
     
    Luke
made her a starter ball. "Here, begin with this." He was intent, as
if he were giving lessons in some art necessary to survival.
     
    "Don't
take it so seriously," she said laughing. "I thought it was supposed
to be fun."
     
    "Might
as well make a good snowman if you're going to make one at all."
     
    She
got the hang of rolling the original snowball along the ground to make it grow.
Soon it took both of them to control the enormous result.
     
    "Ok,
that's his lordship's body. Now we need another one."
     
    In
a while they had a smaller round on top of the first, and Luke put his bowler
on the snowman's head. "He needs a face."
     
    Amy
plucked a couple of pine cones for eyes. Then she removed a tortoise shell comb
from her hair and used it as a mouth. The snowman was grinning. "How's
that?"
     
    "Perfect."
He took her hand. "Miss Norman, may I present Lord Frostbite. Seems a cold
type at first, but he's warmhearted once you get to know him."
     
    They
laughed and suddenly he reached down and pelted her with a handful of snow.
"I told you about snowball fights, didn't I?"
     
    "Not
fair! You have to give me time to make some!"
     
    "Three
minutes, not a second longer. Then you're fair game."
     
    They
stockpiled their efforts a few yards apart. "Time!" Luke called
suddenly and hurled a snowball at her.
     
    He'd
made more than she, and his aim was better. "Give up?" he shouted
after a few seconds.
     
    "Not
a chance!" She landed a hit.
     
    He
charged across the distance between them brandishing an enormous snowball and
shouting lustily. She ducked and he tripped over her skirt, and they were
rolling together in the soft snow, giggling like children in a tickling match.
     
    Then
he kissed her.
     
    He'd
done so before, in an avuncular fashion that bespoke the five years between
them, little affectionate pecks on her forehead or her cheek. This was
different. His mouth covered hers and remained so for a long time. When he
lifted his head they stared at each other in silence. "Sorry," Luke
said at last. "I'd no right to do that."
     
    She
didn't answer, because she didn't know what to say, and because her heart was
pounding and her breath was coming in short hard gasps not caused by the
exertion of the snowball fight.
     
    He
drew her to her feet and brushed the snow from her coat. It was of plumcolored
wool, with a fox collar, and she wore a matching hat. Her face, surrounded by
the silvery fur, was an ivory cameo flushed pink. Her large brown eyes looked
at him questioningly. Luke leaned forward and kissed her again, on the forehead
this time.
     
    "Come
along, little one," he said softly. "I'll take you to Schrafft's for
hot chocolate and cookies. Good little girls always get a treat."
     
    Warren
Westerman had turned his study into a green-house. He nursed there the myriad
cuttings taken from the garden at Balmoral. "I think this rose is going to
root, Amy," he told her with enthusiasm. "I didn't think it would.
Roses are difficult."
     
    She
looked carefully at the fragile stem. A tiny new shoot was emerging from the
tip. "Yes, I'm sure it is. Congratulations, Uncle Warren. That takes
skill."
     
    He
moved the plantlet closer to the light. He had abolished the drapes and pushed
the furniture to one side to make room for a long table in front of the
windows. It was covered with pots and jars and an assortment of kitchenware
pressed into service as containers for greenery. "They will almost all be
ready for planting out next spring."
     
    Amy
wondered where he intended to make his new garden. Perhaps he and Lil were
buying a summer home of their own. Before she could ask he said, "Did you
have roses in German East Africa?" It was the first time he'd ever asked
her a direct question.
     
    "No
roses," she said. "Mummy tried, but they didn't thrive. Have you ever
seen a flame tree?"
     
    He
admitted he hadn't, and she described the beautiful trees with