He wanted to pull her to a stop, tip her face upward and demand she explain the tightness in her voice. But she strode onward, insistently.
“Now tell me about your big dreams.”
Oh, he had walked into that one blindly. “I no longer dream. Tried that and look how it worked out.”
She looked at him then. Now, though, he didn’t want her to, because he feared she would see what he couldn’t disguise—his disappointment, his failure, his determination to protect what little he had left. “But you have Ellie. You have your ranch. You have your faith. Surely you still have dreams.”
He gave what he hoped was a teasing smile. “Nope. About all I can do is sing anyway. Or at least try.”
She looked about to argue, then sighed. “Sometimes it’s the best we can do.”
It didn’t seem right that she should accept defeat so easily. Made him want to grab the future and pull it down like a big, fat, red balloon and offer it to her. It made him want to throw aside all his own disappointments and promise to dance and sing with her into the unknown.
But he couldn’t. The future was not his to offer. And he had little faith he could walk boldly into the unknown.
She laughed.
He blinked. “What’s so funny?”
“Me. ‘Why are thou cast down, O my soul? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.’ I have no need to feel sorry for myself with God’s promise to guide me.”
He wished he could find the same confidence in life.
“I turn off here.” She stopped and pointed toward the house up the lane. “Do you want to come in and meet my mother and say hello to Sally?”
“I’d like to.” He wanted to see her family, see her home, see the things that had shaped her into such a strong woman.
As they neared the house, she pointed to the garden. “Where I go to have fun.” She grinned at him, and they shared a laugh.
“I want to warn you that my mother is overprotective of me, so don’t be alarmed if she acts like I committed some horrible crime by walking to town.”
“I expect she’s only trying to protect you. I know how it is.” He would never let Ellie do anything remotely dangerous in the future.
“Sometimes it is stifling.”
They reached the door and Louisa opened it to call, “Hello. I’m home.” A little black-and-white dog ran forward, wiggling as though he would turn inside out.
Louisa laughed and patted the dog. “This is my dear friend, Mouse. I’ve had him since we moved here.”
An older woman stepped into the room. She had a mop of curly hair like Louisa’s, only it had faded to gray. She fixed Louisa with a concerned look.
“Mother, this is Emmet Hamilton. It’s his little girl I’m tutoring.”
The woman smiled sweetly. “Delighted to meet you, Mr. Hamilton. Please, come in and have tea.”
Emmet gladly accepted her invitation. He wanted to meet her family and see where she lived.
Louisa had fought a conflicting set of emotions all the way home from town. She didn’t want to spend more time with Emmet, be constantly reminded of things she couldn’t have. She’d freely released that dollhouse to Ellie, a sort of sacrifice. In the back of her mind, she had whispered, Okay, Lord, I know I will never be able to give this to a child of my own. So I choose to give it to a child who has no mother. It seemed fitting. But it had been a wrench. She’d spent months on that project when she was fifteen. Long past playing with dolls herself. She had made it for only one reason, and to have Emmet remind her over and over that she might have kept it for her own child was like hot coals to her heart.
But when he announced he would see her home… As if there was no question. As if he considered it his duty. And then acted as if it was more than duty. Well, suffice it to say she tended to ignore the reasons why she didn’t want to spend time with him.
Seeing the speculative look in Mother’s eyes warned Louisa she should have listened to reason rather than give herself excuses. Mother saw a marriageable man—handsome, strong, with a child, providing a ready-made family for Louisa. What she didn’t see was Emmet’s clearly stated desire to have more children.
Louisa would be forced to explain it again after Emmet left. For now, Mother greeted him warmly. “Won’t you come in and have tea with us? Sally just made some cookies. They’re fresh from the oven.”
“I’d be happy to. Smells like molasses cookies. Yum.” He glanced at Louisa, held her gaze a beat, not long enough to attract Sally or Mother’s attention, but long enough to signal that he remembered Louisa had said they were Father’s favorites. Knowing he remembered made it even more difficult to keep her heart from tripping happily down the trail of possibilities.
There were no possibilities, she reminded herself.
Mother waved Sally forward. “This is my youngest daughter, Sally.”
Emmet nodded. “We’ve already met.”
Mother blinked. “Really?”
“Yes, at the store.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten.”
Sally rolled her eyes behind Mother’s back. Louisa wanted to groan but feared it would only bring demanding questions from Emmet, so she indicated he should sit across from her as Mother presided over tea.
As soon as everyone was settled, and not a moment longer than courtesy required, Mother addressed Emmet. “So tell me about yourself. I know you lived with your aunt, but where were you before that? What have you done since you left here?”
Louisa did groan aloud now. “Mother, how much do you need to know?”
Mother gave a gentle smile, but Louisa knew she hadn’t relented one speck. “I probably should have made inquiries before. After all, you are in his company every day. It’s my duty.”
Sally chuckled, but wisely didn’t encourage Mother.
“Mother, I am with his child.” No need to give Mother any more hope that there might be more interest to nurture by admitting she and Emmet had agreed to work together teaching Ellie. “And Auntie May is in the next room.”
Mother slid her gaze past Louisa and Sally and landed it squarely back on Emmet. “I’m sure you don’t mind talking about yourself.”
Emmet chuckled, sent Louisa a teasing look. “I don’t mind in the least. After I left here and after working at various ranches, I found a bit of land to the west. I met and married Jane. Sad to say she died three years ago. I’ve been on my own since then, but when Ellie broke her leg and had to be in a body cast, I knew I couldn’t stay on the ranch. So here I am.”
Louisa noticed he hadn’t mentioned his parents. Seems he never did. Why was that? It wasn’t as if he’d forgotten them. Hadn’t he told her he still missed them?
“Yes,” Mother said, her voice sweet with satisfaction. “Here you are.” The look she gave Louisa said as plainly as words “Here he is indeed. Just what you need.”
Louisa grabbed a cookie and took a bite big enough to choke on, but she stubbornly chewed it and downed it with a gulp of tea.
Emmet grinned at her, as if knowing what wasn’t being said. “Mrs. Morgan, tell me what it was like to have three little girls running around.” His grin remained, but his eyes grew shadowed. “I always wanted a passel of young ones scampering about.”
Louisa couldn’t meet his look, couldn’t let Sally or Mother see how much the idea hurt, and kept her attention on picking the tiny cookie crumbs from her plate.
Mother sighed. “It was a lot of fun. My husband adored the girls and spent a lot of time with them. And they played together well. Girls, remember the tea parties you used to have?”
Louisa lifted her head as sweet memories swept through her. She grinned at Sally. “We had a whole crowd of stuffed animals and dolls.”
Sally nodded. “I remember you used to make dolls out of almost anything. Remember the one you made from corn husks?”
“I read the Indians did that, so I had to try.”
“And you made one out of a potato that had eyes looking
like a face.”
Louisa laughed. “You couldn’t stop staring at it. I think you wondered if it would open its mouth and talk.”
Sally laughed. “We had a lot of fun.”
Emmet’s expression was hungry, full of longing. “It sounds like it.”
Louisa wanted to erase that look from his face. “You had lots of playmates. What did you do besides play scrub ball in the vacant lot?”
The look he gave her said he understood she meant to make him see beyond being an only child. But she couldn’t say if he appreciated it or not. At least, not until his eyes flashed blue and he smiled. “Depended on who I was playing with. The Crates family had half a dozen boys. Two were older than me, one my age and two younger, but they seemed to always do things in a group. And the things they did made people sit up and notice. They tore down an old abandoned shack and turned it into a fort down by the tracks.”
Louisa and Sally glanced at each other in surprise. “I wonder if that’s the same shack the hobos still use,” Louisa said.
“It might be.” He laughed. “We used enough nails to hold it together for a long time.”
After that, they talked about people in the community—who still lived there, who had moved out, who had moved in—until Emmet pushed his chair back. “I must be on my way.”
Mother sent Louisa a glance that said as loud as a ringing bell “Walk the man to the door and show a little interest.”
Louisa knew it was best to follow her mother’s silent instructions, so she accompanied Emmet to the door.
“I enjoyed the visit. Thanks for inviting me.”
Let’s not make a habit of this. Mother will start making wedding plans. And whether or not you know it, it isn’t something either of us want. “Anytime. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He reached out to touch his hat, realized he didn’t wear it and settled for a sketchy salute instead. “Until tomorrow.” He walked away.
She caught the sound of his whistle as he headed down the lane.
Sing anyway.
She needed the reminder, especially as she turned to face her mother’s inquiring look.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome. And a Christian.”
“Mother, what difference does it make?” She sought strength in Sally’s sympathy but Sally offered none, either by her look or in words. Of course. She was sure any man would be willing to overlook Louisa’s barrenness if he loved her.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter if he’s handsome—though it helps—but being a Christian is the number-one requirement.”
She knew her mother had purposely misunderstood Louisa’s protest. “I believe in my case, there’s an even more important consideration, which you well know. You both heard him. He longs for a big family. Now I really must do some work for the lesson I want to present tomorrow.” She wrapped dignity about her like a shroud and climbed the stairs to her room, little Mouse trotting at her heels.
In her room, she scooped up the dog and sank to the edge of the bed. Her heart ached with unshed tears and futile dreams of living on a ranch, listening to a child’s laughter and play, sharing the moment with a man with flashing blue eyes.
It would never be for her. But she didn’t have time to mope. She gathered together paper and pencils and began to fashion illustrations for the lesson. But drawing pictures she hoped would help Ellie learn to read only made her insides hurt more, and she dashed a tear from her eye before it could drop to the paper and ruin her work.
Sometimes it was extremely difficult to find a song to sing.
Chapter Eight
Emmet had never got this much pleasure from lessons when he went to school. Back then he hadn’t enjoyed watching the teacher’s eyes flash with humor as she reminded him of how he whistled as he left the Morgan home. “Sing Anyway is my motto. Maybe yours is Whistle Anyway.”
Nor had he noticed a teacher’s eyes darken with emotion as she talked about the hardships of the Mounties’ march west. Not only did he notice, but his heart had been tugged to join in the same sadness. He knew relief when they moved on to the next subject, which was arithmetic. At least Ellie did well in that subject.
Louisa had driven her car this morning. He felt a twinge of regret. If she’d walked, he’d be duty bound to see her home. She returned to her car when they took a short break before they tackled reading. When she came back, she carried a brown folder. “For our reading class,” she explained. She must have seen his worry, though he’d tried to deny it all morning. “Don’t look so concerned. We’re going to play a game. Ellie will learn to read because it will be fun.”
Louisa set the blackboard where Ellie could see it.
Emmet sat at Ellie’s side, ready to assist and encourage in any way he could. His insides twisted and coiled. He should know if Ellie couldn’t read and needed extra help. What kind of father wouldn’t know?
Louisa placed a picture on the easel—a drawing of a ball with the word below. “Ellie, I’m going to show you a game. First, we have to name all the objects. What’s this?”
“A ball.” Ellie sounded cautious.
“Too easy, I know, but that’s okay. So the word says, ‘ball.’ Look at it and remember.”
Ellie nodded.
Louisa put up more pictures with words below—half a dozen in all. Cat. Dog. Doll. Sun. Run.
All this work for a child who wasn’t her own. Louisa would make a wonderful mother. He’d often wished Jane had given Ellie more attention, but Jane was happy if Ellie played alone without interfering with Jane’s chores.
He jerked his thoughts away from making a comparison between the two. It wasn’t fair.
Louisa took a big pair of scissors from her bag and cut each picture in half. The top half had the picture, the bottom half the word. She shuffled them like cards, passed six to Ellie and kept six for herself. “Now let’s play. As soon as either of us gets a match between the picture and the word, we put them down. For every match, you get to take a card from the other player. You go first. Do you have any matching pairs?”
Emmet glanced at the cards Ellie held and saw two pairs. He let Ellie study them. When she matched “cat” with the picture, he wanted to cheer.
Louisa let Ellie take a card from her hand.
Emmet waited as Ellie looked at the pictures. He could almost feel her intense concentration. When she matched “run” and the picture, he clapped and she beamed with victory.
She got four out of the six matches.
Louisa beamed. “Do you want to play again?”
“Yes.”
They played until Auntie May stuck her head in and said, “Lunch in fifteen minutes.”
Ellie didn’t want to stop.
Louisa placed the cards facedown on the bed. “You can play a game on your own. Pick up two cards.”
Ellie did.
“Do they match?”
She studied them a moment, then shook her head.
“Then put one back and try another. When you find a match, put it aside and keep playing until you get them all.”
Ellie’s attention was on her game as Louisa prepared to leave. “I’ll make some more cards for tomorrow if you like.”
Ellie glanced up and nodded.
Emmet walked her out. “You could stay for lunch.”
“Mother expects me home.”
He didn’t want her to leave. In fact, he wanted to hug her tight and thank her for all the work she’d done for Ellie. “She can read, can’t she?”
“She’s uncertain, but she learned those six words easily enough.”
“You did so much work on this. How did you think of the games?”
Louisa’s smile was sweet enough to stop the birds from singing. “Adele suggested I make it a game. I couldn’t think what might work, so I prayed. And this idea came.”
Emmet couldn’t get his thoughts around how much she put into teaching his child. It amazed and awed him. “I truly appreciate how you’re helping.”
Their g
azes caught and held in a powerful sense of oneness and belonging, of wanting and needing. The look went on and on, her dark eyes searching for truth and so much more. More than he could give. He closed his thoughts to her. Regretted it the moment she blinked and shutters closed her off. Then he half convinced himself there was nothing he could do differently.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She made for the car.
“What about preparing the lessons tonight?” Just the idea she might not come back made him forget all his good intentions.
She didn’t turn right away. Long enough for his mouth to go dry and a thousand arguments to change her mind crowding his own.
Then she slowly faced him, her face a mask, her eyes veiled. “Are you sure you want to do this? You must have other things you’d like to do.”
He had nothing that interested him more. That thought seemed at odds with earlier promises he had made for himself, but he dismissed the idea. “We need to make sure we are doing what Ellie needs.”
The mask grew more wooden. “Then I’ll come back after supper.”
He wanted to tell her to leave the car at home. Give him an excuse to escort her back. But how could he? He had to confine his interest to what was best for Ellie. Never again dare he put anything before her needs.
Rather than make a trip back to town when school was out, Louisa stopped to speak to Adele during the noon break and get work for the next day.
Adele asked about the reading lesson, and Louisa told her what happened. “Good for you. You’ve got the instincts of a natural teacher. Have you ever considered going to Normal school?”
Louisa looked around the schoolyard where Adele was supervising. Children played and swung. Girls huddled together near the garagana hedge. Boys ran after a ball.
She loved helping Ellie, working with Emmet to help his little girl with her studies, but she didn’t know how she could see a whole classroom of children every day, face the fact she would not have her own. “I can’t afford it.” It was a convenient, and true, excuse.
“I borrowed the money to attend.”
Louisa nodded, as if giving the idea some thought. But even if she found Normal school appealing, she didn’t know anyone who would lend her money. What about Uncle Peter? No. She’d never consider asking. Peter was her father’s brother. He had never married. At Father’s funeral he had said several times, “If there is anything I can do… If you need anything… I can help with expenses.” Mother had been offended.
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