“Ain’t got no mommy.”
“Me too. I got no daddy either.” She slid her gaze to Emmet and studied him long and hard, her eyes practically eating him up. She had long, blond, baby-fine hair tied back with a limp bow. Her fair skin was a marked contrast to Ellie’s darker skin. In fact, compared with Ellie with her dark blond hair and brown eyes, she looked ethereal.
“You got any brothers or sisters?” Ellie asked.
He heard the hungry note in her voice and understood Ellie ached for siblings just as he had.
“I had a sister, Emmy. She died along with Mama and Papa.”
Emmet shot a glance at Louisa, saw an echo of his shock and pain. Children should be spared such sorrows. But he knew they weren’t. He wasn’t much older than Leila when his parents had died. He leaned down toward Leila. “Honey, what happened to your family?”
She clung to his gaze, sucking up strength and demanding something more from him.
He only wished he knew what it was she wanted. He would gladly give it if it lay within his power. “They got sick and died. All except me.”
“You don’t have any relatives you can live with?”
“Only my grandma, and she is very old and lives across the ocean.”
Ellie shifted in the bed, as if trying to move over. “You want to play dolls with me? Miss Morgan gave me this dollhouse.”
Leila instantly brightened. “That’s a nice dollhouse.” She climbed up on the chair beside Ellie, and soon the girls were playing happily.
Louisa signaled Emmet to leave the room.
A minute later they stood in the kitchen, staring at the table.
“Poor child,” Emmet murmured.
“I know. It seems so unfair they’ve lost their parents and I—” Her voice broke and she stopped speaking. “Sometimes,” she whispered, “it’s hard to remember to sing.”
He clasped her hand, wanting more than anything to bring the music back to her voice. “Louisa, don’t ever stop singing. What would happen to our world if all the songbirds grew silent?”
She gave him a look of pure disbelief. “I’m no songbird.”
“Ah. But you are. Nicely disguised as a beautiful woman, but still a songbird underneath.”
Her cheeks blossomed like June roses. Her gaze darted away and then returned, almost as hungry as the look in Leila’s eyes. “I am not.”
He didn’t know if she meant she wasn’t a beautiful woman or a songbird. Maybe both, which is exactly what he meant when he said, “You are indeed.”
She eased her hand from his. When she pressed it to her waist as if she cherished the feel of his palm, he grinned. “The girls are enjoying each other.” Their happy voices came from the other room.
“I thought they might.”
He didn’t want Louisa saddened again by thinking of orphaned children. Besides, he wanted to enjoy her company without the excuse of schoolwork. Just this once. Auntie May was outside puttering about her garden. “Do you want to see an old photo album?”
“Of you?” Did she sound eager?
“Maybe.”
Emmet led her into the front room, waited for her to settle on the old sofa that had likely made the trek west with Auntie May’s grandparents. His father’s grandparents. He seldom thought that far back in his family tree.
He put a black photo album on her lap and sat close to explain the pictures. “My great-grandparents, before they moved west.”
She bent over the picture to examine it closer, giving him plenty of time to study her—the tumble of dark curls, a profile that would be suitable for a cameo. She glanced up and caught his interest, and the pink returned to her cheeks. “You look like your great-grandfather.”
He turned the page to pictures of the house they’d built in the British Territories, now Alberta. There were more pictures of his grandparents and great-aunts and uncles. Cousins back east he had never seen. He flipped the page, and his heart stalled. He’d forgotten this page.
She waited. Then prompted him. “Who are these?”
“My parents.” His voice sounded distant and hoarse.
“And that would be you in your mother’s arms?”
It was. He could only nod. She turned to the next picture. A little boy in a pair of knee pants, holding a cap. “You?”
“I was five. Still in short pants.”
On the next page would be the picture Auntie May had insisted on taking. The two fresh graves.
Emmet took the photo album and closed it. He did not want to be reminded. That portion of his life was forbidden territory.
Louisa shifted, considered him long and hard. “Emmet, what happened to your parents?”
“They died.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how, does it?”
“I think it does.”
“I don’t wish to talk about it.” He stared at her, silently daring her to take this any further, informing her the subject was closed.
“As you wish.” But her gaze remained demanding, sorrowful at the same time.
He didn’t need sympathy any more than he needed reminders. “I better check on the girls.”
She rose to follow him and laughed as they stepped into the room.
Leila had found an old red hat on the shelf and wore it. She had been twirling about and skidded to a halt at the sight of two adults. She yanked the hat off and returned it to the shelf. “I was only showing Ellie a little dance.”
Emmet chuckled. “It’s okay. Auntie May won’t mind, so long as you don’t damage anything.”
Leila stared at the floor. A shudder raked her shoulders.
Emmet gave Louisa a help-me look. Why was Leila upset?
Louisa lifted one shoulder, then knelt beside the child. “Leila, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she murmured.
“She likes that cup.” Ellie pointed toward a chipped cup on the top shelf of the china cupboard.
“Is there something special about it?” Louisa asked.
“It reminds me of Mama.”
Emmet could not take the way the child’s voice cracked with emotion. “Would you like to have it?”
Leila’s eyes threatened to consume her face. “It’s not mine.”
“I’ll give it to you.” He removed it from the shelf and handed it to her.
Leila shook her head. “Matron will be angry that I made you want to give me something. We aren’t supposed to beg.”
“You didn’t—” He turned to Louisa for guidance.
“Maybe you can leave it here for now. But it’s yours.”
Leila took the cup and held it between her palms.
Emmet wondered if she even breathed as she studied the purple flowers on it. “Thank you. Very, very much. Mama would have loved this cup. She had a saucer with a crack that had these same flowers on it. She said her mama had given the cup and saucer to her, but all she had left was the saucer.”
“What happened to it?”
The child’s eyes filled with liquid, but she did not let a tear escape. “I don’t know. I only brought my clothes with me and my doll.”
“You still got your doll?” Ellie asked.
Leila nodded, her eyes flashing mischief. “I keep her hidden under my underwear so no one will touch her.”
Ellie wrinkled her nose. “Phew.” Both girls laughed.
Louisa chuckled too, her eyes sparkling as much as the little girls’. She met Emmet’s gaze. “No better place to hide something, you know.”
He shook his head. “Makes no sense to me.”
Still chuckling, Louisa waved at him to follow her from the room. She put the kettle to boil. Her shoulders quivered.
“You’re laughing at me.” He tried to sound regretful.
She faced him. It was plain as could be that she struggled to contain her amusement. “I’m laughing at the situation. I never realized how different boys and girls were.”
“It’s amazing. Surprising and interest
ing. Who’d think a chipped bit of china could bring so much happiness to a child?”
“Because it reminded her of her parents.” Her eyes darkened. Delved into his heart, searching…for what? She opened her mouth. Seemed to reconsider. Closed it again. “I think it’s good for her to have something that reminds her of them.”
He knew then what she’d wanted to say and was grateful she had changed her mind. She’d considered saying something about the way he refused to talk about his parents. How could he possibly explain he didn’t want to remember them? It brought only pain.
They sat at the table and had tea, listening to the giggles and whispers of the girls in the other room.
“It was a good idea to suggest Leila visit.” He leaned across the table, as if about to share a secret. “You are very good with children.”
She blinked. Seemed to pull back into herself. “I guess I remember my own childhood well.”
He saw the silent challenge in her eyes and changed the subject before she could voice it. “Have you considered becoming a teacher?” Though she surely belonged in a home, with her own children. The thought tugged at his heart. But he wouldn’t again picture her in his house. This afternoon’s reminder of his parents and the pain of their death made him more determined to guard his heart.
“I can’t afford to attend Normal school.”
“I’m sure there’s a way—”
“I don’t wish to discuss it.” Silent determination made her expression brittle.
Likely holding out for marriage. He wondered if he preferred to picture her married to someone, raising his kids, or unmarried and teaching. Neither sat very comfortably. But he would not follow his line of thought, knowing it went to places he must deny himself.
“It’s time to take Leila back.” She called Leila.
The girls whispered something and cast furtive looks at Louisa and Emmet.
“What are they up to?”
Louisa shrugged. “Secrets are very important to girls. Boys too, it seems.”
It was a little dig about him closing the photo album, refusing to talk about his parents. “Entirely different reasons, I expect.”
“If you say so.”
Leila took Louisa’s hand. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“Bye,” Ellie called.
Emmet escorted Louisa and Leila to the door. He couldn’t bear the thought of them leaving with constraint between himself and Louisa. “I have secrets for a very good reason.”
She nodded. “I’m sure you do.” She paused on the step, let Leila run to the car alone then turned to face him, her expression full of something far beyond curiosity. “Emmet, I don’t mean to pry. But—” She shrugged.
“But what?”
“It’s none of my business, is it?”
He wanted to say no, it wasn’t. It wasn’t anyone’s business. But he couldn’t deny her concern any more than he could deny the ache in his heart at keeping doors closed to her. It simply had to be that way. “What if I say I want it to be your business?”
“Okay. I don’t know if I can explain it well, but I feel like whenever your parents are mentioned a huge lump of something chokes you. I guess I wonder why you don’t want to get rid of that lump.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”
That’s all? That was like saying the sky was a little blue, the horizon was only a tiny distance away, the wind barely stirred the air. It wasn’t little at all. The lump—as she described it—filled his insides. He couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there. He could only try to ignore it. He’d been trying for eighteen years, mostly with success—until he’d opened that silly photo album.
She touched his elbow. A thousand shivers raced up his veins, threatening to break the locks on a solid door. He feared what would happen should the door ever fling open.
“I can’t. I simply can’t.” Did his voice sound as anguished as he felt? He hoped not.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “The last thing I want is to upset you.”
He nodded. Tried to say he wasn’t upset. Failed. Feared his eyes betrayed his pain.
“Miss Morgan?” Leila called from the car.
“I have to go.” Louisa sounded as if the idea hurt her deeply.
Louisa listened to Leila’s happy chatter with only a tiny portion of her brain. The rest thought of Emmet. Why had she said what she did? Pushed him into a corner, forced emotions from him that obviously caused him such anguish. What made her think she had the right to probe at his wounds?
She wouldn’t have thanked him for probing at hers.
Thankfully he didn’t know her deepest wound. Nor would he ever.
She delivered Leila at the orphanage and spoke to the matron, assuring the good, solid lady that her little charge had been a perfect guest.
But she didn’t immediately go home. She needed time to think. At first she thought of going to see Madge, but this was too deep, too personal to discuss with either of her sisters. Or her mother. There was only one source of wisdom and comfort for the confusion she felt, and she pulled the car off the road at a dusty approach and leaned back. Oh, God. Help me. I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind. I don’t want to cause Emmet pain, and yet I know his past is really eating him up. Help him find his own song. And Lord, while I’m asking, please, please guard my heart.
She sat for a few minutes, letting God’s peace envelop her, then turned the car toward home.
The next morning she returned to the Hamilton house, her emotions firmly under control, and she was determined to keep them there. Emmet seemed relieved that she was a little distant—a fact that bothered her only slightly. She reminded herself it was far better to be interested only in doing a good job. And expecting nothing from him, apart from helping her teach Ellie.
They slipped into a routine. He spent less and less time in Ellie’s room helping with the lessons. That was good, Louisa told herself repeatedly. Ellie was progressing nicely. Flying through arithmetic and now able to read at the beginning of her grade-two books. Louisa’s goal was to see her able to read at the level of her classmates before she finished her contract. She had four weeks left. Once Ellie’s cast came off, Louisa would no longer be needed.
It wasn’t a thought she allowed herself to dwell on.
“I wish Leila could come again.” Ellie’s words brought Louisa back from her mental wandering.
“Ask your father. I’m sure he would approve.”
“Daddy!” she yelled.
“I didn’t mean this very minute.” She had trouble focusing on anything but her trembling heart when Emmet was in the room. But it was impossible to take back Ellie’s call. Emmet bound through the door.
“Did you need me, Button?”
“Louisa said to ask you if I could invite Leila to come and play with me again. Can she?”
Emmet considered his daughter a moment, then shifted his gaze to Louisa.
She forgot to breathe when she saw the darkness in his eyes. What did he want from her? Whatever it was, she feared she could not give it.
“Would you be willing to bring her?”
Louisa couldn’t for the life of her remember what they had been talking about and scrambled to think what he meant. Oh, right. Leila. “I think I could make arrangements for her to come after school.”
“That would be nice.”
Still he watched her. She gripped her hands together, determined she wouldn’t touch him, ask what bothered him, offer to help in any way she could. Instead, she forced her thoughts to center on arrangements for Leila’s visit. “Would tomorrow be good?”
“It would be fine.”
Ellie cheered, freeing Louisa from the intense, demanding look in Emmet’s eyes.
Ellie enjoyed the visit so much they arranged for Leila to come over a couple of times a week. Louisa liked seeing the friendship develop between them. It reminded her of the fun she and her sisters had shared growing up. But there was one big differ
ence. The girls weren’t sisters and would have to part in a few weeks. What would happen to the friendship when Emmet and Ellie left? Would both little girls be hurt?
She expected Leila would be as heartsore as Louisa.
She renewed her vow to continue the work without breaching any more barriers. The lesson preparation did not require she and Emmet meet every evening, but they still needed to get together for planning a couple of times a week.
Emmet insisted on coming to the farm. A form of sweet torture. She couldn’t—wouldn’t fall in love. She told herself this every day.
Even so, she could not imagine the pain she must endure when they left. Knew it would rival the pain of learning she would never bear children.
Lord, I’m trying to trust You. But my emotions get in the way. Help me. Hold me up lest I fall.
She feared she would soon test the truth of those words.
Chapter Ten
“May I sit with you?” At Emmet’s voice behind her as she edged into the pew after Sally, Louisa jerked about, her heart in her throat.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. He never came to church, because he had to stay with Ellie.
“Auntie May said I would turn into a heathen if I missed church another Sunday. She volunteered to stay with Ellie. They had some scheme cooked up. I believe I heard something about a bed picnic. I was warned not to return before supper time, so I’m at loose ends. Any suggestions as to how I should spend the afternoon?”
Sally overheard. “Join us. Madge and Judd are coming. It will be fun.”
“I’d like that.”
Louisa kept her head down, giving a great deal of attention to settling herself, arranging her purse and Bible on her lap, all the time resisting an urge to check and see that her hat was still on straight. And not looking at Emmet as she fought a battle in her heart.
Having him sit beside her in church crossed some kind of barrier. She hadn’t expected she would be so blindsided by his presence. Her defenses weren’t constructed.
Sally nudged her, and she realized the pastor had announced the first hymn. Her beloved sister took the hymnal before them and turned to share it with Mother. That left Louisa no choice but to share Emmet’s hymnal. She barely touched the edge of the book, and yet every cell in her body tingled with awareness as she tried hopelessly to remain indifferent.
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