Peggy Sue shoved her hands into her apron pocket, her face serious.

“What is it?” Emily asked. “Ginny isn’t sick, is she?”

“Ginny’s fine. Or will be.” Peggy Sue took a deep breath. “I’d rather that you didn’t…pursue Ginny’s lessons.”

Not sure she’d heard right, Emily arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

“She’s blind, and all you’re doing is putting fancy ideas in her head.” Peggy Sue rushed her words as if to speak her mind before losing courage.

Emily drew back. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“She now thinks she has a family.”

“She does have a family. Chase…Mr. McKnight, me, the ranch hands…we’re all family.”

Peggy Sue discounted this with a shake of her head. “A family consists of a mother and father. Not an employer and”—her eyes grew misty, and her voice dropped—“his household.”

“We’re all very fond of Ginny,” Emily said. “You know that, right?”

“I know you all mean well, but it’s better that she learns to face reality. Now she wants to travel around the world. That’s why I must insist that you stop teaching her things that will only end up frustrating her.”

“I’m not sure I understand. What things?”

“Adding and subtracting. Writing her name. She has no use for such things, and that will only aggravate her.”

Emily didn’t want to tell Peggy Sue how to raise her daughter, but neither could she hold her tongue. “Ginny is a bright, intelligent child. She has great potential,” Emily said gently. “I wish you would reconsider. Ginny deserves every opportunity that comes her way—”

“Opportunities?” Peggy Sue’s face darkened. “The only opportunity for her is to beg in the streets!”

Peggy Sue’s bitter tone made Emily cringe, but she refused to be deterred. If anything was holding Ginny back, it was her mother.

“That might have been true in the past, but not now. There’s even a school for the blind in Boston. I’ve been there, and you’d be amazed at what they’re doing. They’re teaching people to read with their fingers. They start with children as young as Ginny and—”

“My mind’s made up!” As if suddenly realizing she was talking to the mistress of the house, Peggy Sue’s hand flew to her mouth. “I mean no disrespect. I’ll…I’ll tell her that you’re busy and can no longer spend time with her. She’ll understand.”

Before Emily could further object, Peggy Sue whirled around in a circle of gray skirts and quickly left the room.

Emily sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at the closed door.

* * *

Ginny was still very much on Emily’s mind the following morning. It worried her that the child wasn’t in the usual places. The parlor was empty, as was the veranda.

Walking into the kitchen, Emily took an appreciative sniff of the savory smell rising from the steaming cast-iron Dutch oven on the stove. “Hmm, something smells good.”

Grinning, Cookie rested his knife on the chopping board. “That’s my famous son-of-a-gun chicken stew. And for dessert, we’re having my famous son-of-a-gun peach cobbler.”