Lost Creek Hollow the carriage ride

as he looked heavenward, mona allowed herself to glance at the pale line of his jaw. he was handsome in an understated way, a drawing together of the details that comprised a sensitive countenance and expressive gaze, something mona did not often see in males.
they were a guarded lot. gannet was refreshing. ”it’s hard to describe, but ... there is a square made up of four stars, and then three for the handle ... there.”
for once mona’s gaze did not waver with pain; a smile laced her expression. ”my father, casmir. he taught me.”