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When I returned the checker board and pieces had been put away. They had been replaced by plates, glasses, and silverware. Jessie brought over the hot dish and put some on Emily’s plate. She put the serving bowl in the center of the table.“Aw mom, carrots. I don't like carrots,” Emily protested. The hot dish consisted of hamburger, diced potatoes, baby carrots, cheddar cheese soup, and spices. “Emily, carrots are good for you. You have eaten them before,” Jessie responded.Emily looked at me for help. I just shook my head no. Emily resigned herself to the situation and began eating. Jessie took some of the hot dish and passed the bowl over to me. I took a good portion and tried to set a good example be showing her I was eating the carrots. We finished, Emily had eaten her hot dish including the carrots. Jessie went downstairs to check on the laundry. Emily and I cleared the table and washed the dishes. Jessie came back just as we finished. She had an angry frustrated look on her. Are you a lifeguard?”“Well, if I were, I’d be concerned about your whole body now, wouldn’t I?”A slight smile wedged its way into Cassie’s face. “I suppose you might be.” She nodded to the sand beside him. “Where’s your surfboard, lifesaver?”He jammed a thumb over his shoulder. “Left it down the beach. Figured I’d just go play in the waves for a bit. Better for beating the sun, if you ask me.” He let his eyes not-so-subtly run over her again. “Maybe you should come join me.”Cassie’s eyebrow went up with the corner of her mouth. “Go play in the waves with you?”Jason flicked his head into a faux-careless lull, letting his hair fall over one side of his face.“Something like that.”Cassie studied the guy. Sure he was handsome—no question about that. He was a fair bit younger, probably by a good ten to fifteen years, but not so young to look boyish. Cassie was used to younger guys sparing her an eye, especially in her bathing suit, but not many had the cojones to approach her directly, let.
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She was, without doubt, an angel. Everyone agreed. No one remembered such a lovely creature who combined the qualities of grace, intelligence, charm, and sweet disposition in one so young. Such a pity, they said, that she was so lowly born. Surely she had a father, but who that might be was lost to memory. Even her mother, who served in the Priest's household as cook and scullery maid, could not remember who of the many passing stable boys and draymen might have sired the girl fourteen years ago. Obviously the God, of whom the master of this house piously claimed to be an humble servant, possessed a cynical humour to place a child so rare in beauty and disposition so slightly above the class of the basest born. Little in life was hers to have or hold or claim, except one small thing: she was loved, unreservedly and passionately, silently and softly, secretly and fearfully, for the love was forbidden and if known would destroy her and he who loved her. She was loved by the boy, and she.

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