He gave her narrow-eyed concentration.
She refused to blink before his study, instead choosing to try to decide what color his eyes were. Green? Blue? Just when she’d decided on one, they shifted to the other. Ah. She’d learned something that might be useful in the future, should she get the job. His eyes changed color with his emotions. He had gone from green-eyed doubt to blue-eyed relief. For some inexplicable reason, it pleased her to have learned this tiny bit of information.
“Are you saying you have no beau?”
“I am indeed.” She fully intended to protect herself from further pain by avoiding anything but friendship with any man.
“Daddy. Where are you?” A young, demanding voice called from a room past the kitchen.
The smile on the man’s face made Louisa blink. The man looked as if the sun had come out and the sky turned blue at the sound of a little girl’s voice. He was obviously very fond of his daughter. “I’ll be right there.”
Her eyes stung. Her father had loved his daughters in such a fashion. It had been almost four years since his passing, but she missed him as though it was yesterday.
“Would you like to meet Ellie?”
“Yes, please.” Did this mean she had the job? Or would if she could relate to his daughter? Please, God. Give me wisdom.
“Come along.”
She followed him into the adjoining room. A china cupboard and sideboard, groaning under a collection of mismatched dishes, took up most of one wall, but in the middle of the room stood a bed, raised to elbow level on blocks. A blonde child lay on the bed, her chocolate-brown eyes watching Louisa with unblinking interest.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Louisa Morgan.” She glanced toward Emmet, but he stood back, observing her. Apparently he meant to see how she would handle the situation on her own. “And you are Ellie Hamilton.”
“So?”
“Ellie?” Her father’s voice carried gentle warning. “Be polite.”
The little girl gave Louisa an unrepentant stare, then smiled at her father. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He stepped forward. “Her cast goes from here—” he pushed the blanket to show a cast up to her chest “—and down to here.” This time he lifted the bottom of the covers. Only her toes peeked out. “So you can see she can’t move around much.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie. It can’t be much fun.” Louisa reviewed what she knew of the child. Seven years old. Motherless. Had fallen out of a tree and broken her leg.
“It’s not any fun. I hate it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she put on a full-blown pout.
“It’s necessary so your leg will heal.” Emmet’s voice was tight. It must hurt to see his child like this. “Even as it’s necessary for you to continue with your schoolwork. Which is why Miss Morgan is here.”
“No. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.” The child screamed and cried at the same time. “Please, Daddy, don’t make me.”
Emmet stepped to Ellie’s side, cradled her face between his palms. “Hush, sweetie. Don’t upset yourself like this.” He crooned wordless comfort.
Ellie wrapped her arms about Emmet’s neck and pulled his face down to rest on her cheek.
Louisa turned away, her throat clogged with emotion at seeing his gentle pain over his daughter. Feeling his helplessness. Understanding how Ellie felt. How often had Louisa had to watch life move on while she observed from the sidelines? Lord, all I want is a job, but perhaps You have something more for me here. She would follow God’s leading, but she would keep her heart under lock and key.
Emmet extricated himself from Ellie’s grasp. “You’ll be okay. I need to talk to Miss Morgan for a minute, then I’ll be back.”
“Then will you play with me?” A quiver in her voice tore at Louisa’s resolve. The poor child. If she got the job of teaching her, she would do everything she could to make the days pass quickly with fun activities.
“Miss Morgan?” Emmet indicated she should follow him. He led her through to the front room. “I don’t want Ellie to hear us.”
She sat while he went from one side of the room to the other, his strides long and hurried.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel.”
“No, you can’t.” He ground to a halt and jerked his thumb toward the room where his daughter lay. “It’s my fault—”
“How can you blame yourself for an accident?” She ached to explain that sometimes things just happened despite our best efforts. For no good reason. A person simply had to accept it and move on. The only other choice was to be angry and bitter. Not a pleasant alternative, to her way of thinking.
“I should— Never mind. It has nothing to do with the job.” He sat down and faced her. “I need to get Ellie into a routine of sorts as quickly as possible.” He sighed deeply, as if he regretted the decision he must make. “Miss Ross spoke highly of you. Let’s see how you do with Ellie. If you’re still interested in the job…”
At first all she cared about was getting paying work, but seeing the child, witnessing their affection, sensing the frustration in both of them…well, now she wanted the job. “When do you wish me to start?”
He laughed, his face suddenly years younger. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“I’ll have to get lesson plans and advice from Miss Ross but tomorrow is fine.”
“I hope you can make her happy.”
“I’ll do my best.” Though she knew a person, whatever age, was only as happy as they chose to be. But she could imagine getting Ellie to laugh, seeing Emmet smile at his daughter’s cheerfulness.
It wasn’t until she stood on the street, smiling with anticipation, that she realized she was imagining all the things she could never have—teaching a child in the safety of home, sharing the pleasure with a man.
She’d strayed wildly from her intention of guarding her emotions. This was only a job, she scolded herself. A child who needed to learn. Nothing more.
Now all she had to do was face Mother and inform her of her decision. She already knew how she’d react. Warnings she would make herself sick. Advice that she must take care of herself. But Louisa was tired of being coddled, of being careful. It certainly hadn’t prevented her from getting sick in the past. From now on, she intended to enjoy every bit of what she could squeeze from life. Certainly she knew her limitations. But no amount of hard work would make her barrenness more…or less…than it already was.
An ache the size of Alberta lay tightly tied and buried in a secret corner of her heart—where she would make sure it stayed.
Chapter Two
Emmet closed the door softly behind Miss Morgan’s departure and stared at the wooden slab. She was much too young and pretty to be…what? Young and single? Not planning marriage? Most certainly a temporary condition. No doubt she waited only for the right man to show up. Not that it mattered one way or the other to him. He no longer sought after dreams such as marriage, home, success…. All that mattered now was taking care of Ellie. And he had failed badly in that area. Something he intended would not happen again. Nothing must divert him from caring for her.
“I hope you’re going to let Louisa help Ellie.”
His aunt’s voice thankfully jerked him back from the dark trail his thoughts headed down. He turned to meet her intent look.
“She’s a good person.”
“She starts tomorrow.”
“Good for you. I was afraid you’d see her pretty face and immediately count her out.”
“Now, why would you think that?” He purposely kept his voice soft. Sometimes Auntie May responded better to a gentle warning.
But not always.
“I know you, boy. You’ve been hurt too many times. And now you’ve locked your feelings in a deep vault someplace.”
How wrong she was. Not that he hadn’t tried exactly that. But he’d failed miserably. He’d never felt anything as deeply, as frighteningly real as when he’d found Ellie hurt. “My feelings are not buried. I care
about Ellie. So much it hurts.”
A cat jumped to a table next to Auntie May and leaned over in an attempt to get her attention. Several things clattered to the floor.
Auntie May scooped up the cat and retrieved the fallen objects. “I don’t mean Ellie. Of course you love her. She’s your flesh and blood. But don’t you think she needs a mother? Just as you need a wife—a partner?”
“I’ve already tried that, remember? And it ended with Jane dying.” Like everyone he cared for. His parents. Even his pet dog. “Ellie is enough for me.”
“She can’t be, you know. A man needs a wife.”
He snorted. “This from a woman who never married.” He considered her. “Are you saying you regret that?”
She chortled. “I have you and Ellie. And my pets.” She scrubbed the heads of four cats sitting at her feet. Then she gave him a look full of both challenge and regret. “I loved once.”
“You did? What happened?”
She shrugged and buried her face in the fur of the gray cat in her arms. Seemed the animal was the favored of the bunch, or perhaps the most demanding, as it always ended up being held. “Didn’t work out.”
“Why?” In the dozen or so years he’d lived here, she’d never once hinted she had loved someone. Nor expressed regrets at being single. Did the man die? Seems death stole a lot of people.
“I’ve been happy. Nothing to complain about, but take it from me. Cats aren’t the same as humans.”
“No kidding.”
“They’re more loyal for the most part, however.”
Emmet considered the statement. Had Auntie May’s love interest been disloyal? The idea only reinforced his decision. “Auntie, I’m sorry your love didn’t work out. But you say you’ve been happy. That’s more than many can claim, and likely all any of us can expect. I’m content with my life. I have Ellie and you.” He bent to pat two furry heads. “And the cats.”
“I always wanted more for you. I wanted you to have the things I didn’t.”
“You’re sweet, but I had a wife. She died. But she gave me a daughter. Do I deserve anything more?”
“I don’t know what any of us deserves, but God, in His mercy, blesses us anyway. My concern is you’ve shut your heart to more. Likely wouldn’t take it, even if God sent it your way.”
Emmet didn’t want to argue with her. Didn’t have an argument to offer. He had all he wanted. Anything else would only invite more pain. Auntie May was right. He had barred his heart.
A crash rattled from the kitchen. No, it was Ellie’s room. Had she fallen? Hurt herself while he stood two rooms away making silly conversation? He would never forgive himself if—
He crossed the room in long strides and hurried to her bedside, Auntie May at his heels.
Ellie’s covers were rumpled, but other than that she looked in one piece.
“What was that racket?” he demanded.
Auntie May continued past the bed. “I’d say this would explain the noise.” She held up the shattered base of a lamp. “Now, I wonder how that ended up on the floor.”
“I bumped it,” Ellie said, “trying to get something to play with.” She put on a pretty pout. “Daddy, you said you’d come back and play with me.”
“I was on my way.” He shouldn’t have lingered talking to his aunt about things that didn’t matter.
“I’ll clean this up.” Auntie May brought a broom and dustpan from the kitchen. “You go ahead and amuse your daughter.”
“Thanks.” He caught Ellie’s eyes and tilted his head toward his aunt, silently signaling her.
Ellie smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry for breaking your lamp, Auntie May.”
“Goodness, child. Don’t you fret about it. Accidents happen.”
His daughter made him proud. “What would you like to do?”
“Ride my pony.”
He chuckled. “I guess you would, but how do you think he’d feel with a big white stiff body on his back? Wouldn’t he be frightened?”
Ellie giggled. “He’d kneel down and dump me off.”
“I expect he would.”
“Is that lady going to be my teacher?”
“Miss Morgan? She’s coming with lessons tomorrow.”
“Do I have to do schoolwork? Please don’t make me.”
He hated doing so, but surely it was the best thing for her. “It will help you pass the time and you’ll be able to keep up with your friends at school.”
“But Daddy, all my friends are where we used to live. I have no friends here.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Why did we have to move?”
“I’m sorry, Button. But I couldn’t take care of you and run the ranch.”
“Betsy could look after me.”
Anger surged up his throat at how Betsy had looked after his daughter. He’d arrived home early to find Ellie on the ground, screaming in pain with a broken leg and Betsy absent. She’d gone to a nearby homesteader’s place—a single man—and left Ellie on her own. From all accounts, not an unusual occurrence. Seemed he was the last to discover it. Shouldn’t he have been the first? “I didn’t much care for the way Betsy watched you.”
“Miss Morgan is very pretty, isn’t she?”
Far too pretty to be single. But that mattered not to him in the least. “She’s passable, I suppose.”
Auntie May, mussing about in the kitchen, snorted loudly. Emmet chose to ignore it.
“You might like her better than me.”
“Oh, Ellie.” He pulled a stool close to her side and cradled her in his arms as best as the body cast allowed. “I will never like anyone better than you. Not so long as I live.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” He held her close a moment longer, then she squirmed free.
“Tell me a story.”
“I’m not much good at storytelling.”
“Tell me about Grandma and Grandpa.”
He sucked in air. All she knew was they had died when he was nine. He never talked about them. It was another life. This was his life now. “How about if I tell you about the night you were born?”
“Okay.” She sounded less than enthusiastic. Perhaps because she’d heard the story before.
So he tried to up the drama and suspense of that long-ago night when the doctor had come in the middle of an October snowstorm and the electricity had gone off. His little daughter had been delivered by flickering lamplight. And he’d fallen smash, dash in love with his tiny girl. “I loved you from your first breath, and I will love you until my last breath.” He squeezed her gently.
Ellie giggled. “Daddy, you’re silly.”
“Silly about you.”
“Then you won’t make me do schoolwork?”
Emmet laughed, pleased at her wily ways. “You’ll still have to do schoolwork.” He scooped up the gray cat and put it on the bed beside Ellie. “You play with the cat while I do some chores.” He didn’t intend to sit around and let Auntie May do everything. He’d noticed a number of neglected things he planned to take care of while he was here.
Later, after he fixed a broken step and cleaned out weeds blown around the back shed, he returned to play with Ellie.
“I wish you would stay with me all day.”
“I wish I could too, Button. But I can’t.” Having Louisa Morgan spend a few hours each day with Ellie would make it better for both him and his daughter.
Next morning, Emmet waited at the front door for Louisa to arrive. He’d had a restless night, wondering if he did right by Ellie, forcing her to take lessons while confined to bed. But Louisa said she’d spent time in a similar situation. Had she been ill? It was hard to believe. She looked in perfect health.
A battered-looking car, a Model A, wheezed to the front gate. Louisa stepped daintily from the vehicle. She moved as if she anticipated what life had to offer. Her cheeks glowed. Her skin was like pure silk, and curly dark hair framed her oval face. A dark pink dress with a flowery pattern accented her chinalike complexion and swirled abo
ut her legs as she turned. If she had any physical flaws, he did not detect them, and if she suffered any chronic illness, it didn’t reveal itself in the way she moved.
She leaned into the backseat and pulled out a satchel so heavy it required she use both hands to set it on the ground. Then she dragged an awkward board out, set it beside the satchel and bent to extract some lengths of wood.
All this to teach Ellie a little reading, writing and ’rithmetic? He stepped outside. “Can I give you a hand with those things?”
She sent him a smile full of gratitude that sneaked through his defenses and delivered a king-size wallop to a spot behind his heart.
He sank a mental fist into the area and pushed it into oblivion. “Seems you’re serious about this tutoring business.”
She laughed. Music seemed to fill the air. He glanced around to see if a door was open, if someone was playing the piano. All doors were closed. He shifted his gaze to the trees. Birds sang an accompaniment to the sound. He concluded the music came from Louisa’s laugh. “I like to do a good job.”
“I’ll take the bag. It looks heavy.” He grunted as he hoisted it from the ground. “Did you bring bricks?”
Another musical chuckle. “Just books. Some Adele—Miss Ross—loaned from the school and some I brought from home.” She tucked the longer pieces of wood under one arm and tried to tackle the bigger piece, but it was almost as big as she.
“I’ll take that. What is it?”
She turned it to show the other side. “A blackboard. My brother-in-law, Judd, made this tripod. See, the legs extend so I can write on the board then raise it so Ellie can see it from her position in bed. Isn’t that clever?”
“Oh, very.”
She chuckled. It seemed everything amused her, pleased her.
Obviously, he thought with a shade of bitterness, she had not encountered major difficulties in her life.
They struggled toward the house and dropped the items on the floor.
Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02] Page 2