by Mia Ross
Why her, she had no clue. But she felt honored that he trusted her enough to do it.
Chapter Five
Sunday morning.
Usually, this was the one day of the week when Rick allowed himself to stay in bed for a while, drifting in and out of a light doze until his daughters bounded across the hallway and woke him up. On this particular Sunday, though, he had other ideas. Emma’s mention of a Sunday school at the Liberty Chapel had caught his interest, and ever since then he’d been toying with the idea of attending a service there, just to see how it went.
If the girls liked it, he didn’t mind continuing to go. If not, he wouldn’t miss it, either. He had a suspicion that being ambivalent about religion wasn’t appropriate for a dad, but he wasn’t one to pretend that he valued something simply because it made him look good. He also wouldn’t keep them from going if they got something out of it. Just because he didn’t see the point didn’t mean they had to miss out on what it might have to offer them.
In his imagination, he heard Sarah’s unmistakable laughter. At least he assumed that it was his imagination. There were times when he could almost feel her presence close by, and more than once he’d wondered if that feeling was more than wishful thinking. Then the moment would pass, and he’d feel like an idiot for allowing himself to believe something so impossible, no matter how brief his lapse in common sense might have been. She’d been part of his life for so long, it was understandable that her memory would continue to influence him in some way.
At least that was what he told himself.
He flung those fanciful thoughts aside with the covers and got himself ready for a new venture that would probably prove to be a waste of time. At least he knew the Calhouns, he reasoned as he combed out his wet hair. As generous as Emma and her family had been to them so far, he had no doubt that they’d welcome his girls and him into their church with open arms.
The door across the hall stood partially closed, and he knocked before opening it the rest of the way. Caitlin stirred and rolled over to yawn at him. “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning. How’re you doing?”
“Fine. What’s up?”
“How’d you like to come to church with me?”
At the sound of his voice, Aubrey stretched out to her full length before curling up like a sleepy kitten. Blinking her eyes open, she stared over at him in confusion. “What church?”
“Emma and her family go to the Liberty Chapel near the square,” he explained. “She invited us to come by sometime, and I was thinking today might be good.”
“I like Emma,” Aubrey informed him with a yawn. “She’s so pretty and nice.”
She’d summed up his own impression of the soft-spoken artist, and he grinned. “Yeah, she is. So, would you ladies like to come with me?”
Caitlin sat up and gave him a curious once-over. “We haven’t gone to church since Mommy went to heaven.”
“I know,” he said, swallowing hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Maybe it’s time for us to try it again.”
“Because Emma will be there?”
Caitlin’s innocent question caught him by surprise, and it dawned on Rick that, in a way, that was the reason for his change of heart. “She invited us, so I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint Emma,” his older girl agreed, swinging out of bed before heading to her closet. “Come on, Aubrey. I’ll help you pick out a dress and then Daddy can do your hair.”
“Okay.”
Aubrey bounced to her feet, obviously excited by the prospect of breaking their usual mellow Sunday routine. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and Rick found himself humming while he pulled bowls and their favorite cereals from the cupboard. His usual coffee and a bagel didn’t appeal to him much lately, so he added a third setting for himself. He was halfway through a bowl of vitamin-fortified sugar when the girls joined him. They didn’t say anything, but their astonished looks clearly said that he’d surprised them with his change in routine.
They chatted while they ate, and he downed a bracing jolt of caffeine before tackling the brushing and French-braiding of two heads of long blond hair. When he was done, he sat back and smiled. “Y’know, I think I have the most beautiful daughters on the planet.”
Caitlin laughed. “You always say that.”
“Then you say how much we look like Mommy,” Aubrey chimed in, glancing over her shoulder at a picture of them with Sarah that hung on the wall. She had the expression of someone looking at a photo of a stranger, and his heart twisted with regret.
He’d done his best to keep their mother alive for them, but it killed him that his four-year-old had no personal memories of her. Every time he looked at one of his daughters, he saw the woman who’d given them every bit of love and energy she had, right until the end of her life. He only wished he could give them half as much as Sarah had. He tried, but he knew they were missing out on so much, not having a mother. They needed a woman to talk with, confide their secrets to, share their triumphs and heartaches.
He loved them endlessly, but at the end of the day, he was still a guy. It just wasn’t the same.
Pushing those pointless thoughts aside, he glanced at the clock and stood. “We don’t want to be late for our first day of church. Let’s all clean up and get ready to go.”
They followed his lead without complaint, which told him how eager they were to try something new. They were such troupers, he mused proudly while they brushed their teeth and found their shoes. So much had changed for them in the past two years, sometimes he wondered if he was asking too much of them. Days like these let him know that for all the challenges they’d faced, his sweet, resilient girls were doing fine.
The church was only a few blocks away, so they decided to walk. They weren’t the only ones, he noticed, and several families greeted them on their way up the street. The quaint white chapel was nestled beneath some of the largest, most brilliant red maples he’d ever seen. Everything in Liberty Creek dated back to the early 1820s, and it was easy to picture long-ago families walking in from their homes to attend services the same way their modern counterparts were doing now.
Similar to many of the other structures in town, the little church was a bit faded, showing some wear and tear around the tall, colorful windows. He wondered if Jordan Calhoun’s talent for stained glass would be tapped for some repairs once he got to town. The roof looked new to Rick, but some shutters that had blown off during the harsh winter were still missing, and the concrete steps could use some attention from an expert. The building reminded him of the residents of this picturesque New England town: sturdy and weathered by time.
That thought had just passed through his mind when he heard a familiar laugh and caught sight of someone who definitely didn’t fit that description. Emma Calhoun was strolling in with Lindsay and Brian, who held an adorable baby wearing a cotton candy–pink dress. A red pickup came down Main Street, slowing to come alongside the little group. Sam and his wife, Holly, were in the cab, their son, Chase, sitting between them. The two groups stopped in the middle of Main Street to chat, and Rick couldn’t help grinning. Anywhere else he’d lived, that kind of dawdling would have caused an instant traffic jam and some serious temper tantrums. Here, it was a daily occurrence, and no one seemed to think anything of it.
It was hard for him to believe that he’d gradually become accustomed to the slower pace of life here in rural New Hampshire. Not only that, he realized suddenly, he actually liked it. People took the time to enjoy their days, connecting with family and friends whenever the opportunity presented itself. Their approach to life was a major shift from the bustling, ambitious people he’d known before, and he admired them for keeping their old-fashioned values in a world that often seemed determined to destroy them.
He’d only planned on staying in Liberty Creek lon
g enough to get the bank’s new branch solidly on its feet and then move on to the next assignment that his boss had in mind for him. But lately he’d begun pondering whether this might be a nice place to raise his girls, away from the chaos that plagued so many of the cities he’d visited, no matter where they were. Here, they could walk up the street to the park without him worrying about the traffic, because there just wasn’t that much. Quiet and unassuming, it was the kind of home that he’d never considered before, but he had to admit that it was growing on him.
Especially the people, he thought as Emma flashed them a bright smile and hurried up the sidewalk to meet them.
“Good morning!” she sang, leaning in to wrap the girls in a warm hug before straightening to gaze up at Rick. “How nice to see you all here.”
She didn’t say anything beyond that, but her sparkling blue eyes made it plain that she was delighted to see them. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had made him feel as special as Emma did. Women usually looked him over with interest, noticed his wedding band, then pulled away. Emma’s approach to him was proof that she didn’t consider him anything other than a friend, which was a refreshing change.
“You picked the perfect day to come,” she went on, leading them toward the double front doors. “Holly and Lindsay are doing Sunday school, and I hear they have something really fun planned for the kids.”
Rick had assumed that his daughters would sit with him, and he was just about to tell her that when Caitlin exclaimed, “That would be awesome!”
Aubrey, who was more reserved by nature, boldly asked, “Will Chase be there?”
“Absolutely,” Emma assured her. “He’s in charge of the snacks.”
“Last time we saw him at the bakery, he let me look at one of his animal books,” Aubrey went on in a rare show of bravery. “Do you think he brought one of them today?”
“If he didn’t, there are some in the church library. I’d imagine he’ll help you pick one out if you want.”
“I like Chase,” Aubrey announced, adding a dimpled smile. “I don’t have a big brother, but he’d be a nice one.”
Rick was stunned by her comment, but he managed to hide his shock when his shy girl glanced up at him. “Can I go to Sunday school with Caitlin, Daddy? Please?”
“Of course you can, sweetness. I think it’s a great idea.”
“You’ll make some new friends, Froggy,” Caitlin said, squeezing her around the shoulders in a big-sister gesture. “Then when you start preschool in the fall, you’ll already know some of the other kids. That will make it easier.”
Preschool. Rick barely stifled a sigh as Emma led them to a pew in the front already half filled with Calhouns. His girls were growing up so fast, sometimes he lost track of how quickly the time was slipping by.
“It goes by fast, doesn’t it?” Emma asked quietly.
He chuckled. “Was it that obvious?”
“The look on your face just now said it all. Kids have a way of growing up when we’re not looking. Sometimes my students come back to visit after they’ve gone onto the middle and high schools, and I can’t believe they’re the same people.” The petite teacher held up a hand far over her head and laughed. “I need a stepladder to look some of them in the eyes.”
“They really come back to see you?” he asked, sliding over to make room for the girls beside him.
“Some of them do. Others write or email, or text me photos of their latest projects. It’s rewarding to know that I had an impact on them when they were younger, and that as they’re growing up, they haven’t forgotten about me.”
Rick couldn’t imagine anyone forgetting Emma Calhoun after talking to her for five minutes, much less after spending years in her bright, creative classroom or after-school program. She was the kind of person who made the world a better place merely by being in it. Watching her with his own daughters had given him a close-up view of how she nurtured children’s talents, encouraging them to try new things, making them laugh.
Come to think of it, he mused as he opened a hymnal, she’d done the same for him. How she’d managed that, he wasn’t quite sure, but he definitely felt more a part of the community since he’d volunteered to help her. Apparently, she had a knack for drawing people out, no matter how young or old they were. Being more of a pragmatic person, it was a skill that he didn’t share, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a little envious of her.
In the row in front of him, the head of this raucous family turned and offered a beefy hand. “Not sure you remember, but I’m Emma’s dad. Steve Calhoun.”
“Hard to forget seeing you dangling from the rafters at the forge, installing that exhaust fan,” Rick replied as they shook. “It’s nice to see you back on solid ground.”
“Yeah, that was a project,” he commented with a chortle. “Sometimes I think Sam and Brian come up with those jobs just to see if their old man can still hack the tough stuff.”
“Aw, come on,” Brian objected. “You lost the toss for going up there, and you know it.”
The twinkle in Steve’s eyes confirmed his son’s version of the story, and he laughed. “So, how’re things at Patriots Bank these days?”
“Busy,” Rick answered proudly. “More customers come in every week, and I’ve written up several mortgages for buyers who are moving into the area. That’s not only good for business, it also tells us that people want to come here to raise their kids.”
“Which means they’ll be sticking around awhile,” Emma’s oldest brother, Sam, added with a nod. “That’s good for everyone, especially contractors like me.”
“And teachers,” Emma chimed in enthusiastically. “Which is why the school needs to find a way to keep the experienced ones we already have.”
“Amen to that,” someone behind them said. Emma turned, and the woman went on, “The Fire Department Ladies’ Auxiliary is putting a petition together to circulate at our picnic next weekend. We’re trading a free dessert for a signature from anyone over eighteen, so we’ll have plenty of support for you and the others.”
“What a fabulous idea, Gladys,” Emma approved, reaching over to clasp the woman’s gnarled hand warmly. “Thank you so much.”
“I worked in the school office for thirty-seven years,” the woman reminded her, faded eyes crinkling in a nostalgic smile. “I know how important good, caring teachers are to the kids. The future for them will be tough, and they’re going to need all the help they can get to prepare them for what’s ahead.”
They chatted pleasantly about her grandchildren and goings-on around town, the same way other people around them were doing. It occurred to Rick that the Sunday service was about more than the sermon. It was a time for busy people to get together and trade news, offer encouragement or just be together. The churches that he’d attended with Sarah had been much bigger, and they hadn’t known anyone, so other than polite exchanges with equally polite strangers, they’d mostly talked to each other. This was a different experience entirely, and he found himself warming up to the idea of making this a weekly outing for his family.
The organist started playing some warm-up chords, and the milling congregation made their way to various seats around the small chapel. It looked to him as if the families had their own sections, and he was glad to be included among the Calhoun clan. Again, he got the feeling of belonging, even though he’d never been in this church before.
The choir filed into their places behind the pastor’s lectern, and as the sunlight streamed in, he noticed the details in the beautiful stained glass window behind the simple altar. It was fairly large, and the arched shape depicted the covered bridge the long-ago Calhoun brothers had built to make access across the creek easier. Beside it was their blacksmith shop and the winding lane that had originally led into the main part of town.
Everything looked the same now, he realized, except that the road was pavement
instead of dirt. Having moved several times during his own life, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live in a place that hadn’t changed appreciably since it had been founded so many generations before. The residents of this small town were a sturdy, self-reliant lot, proud of their past and doing everything they could to keep the craziness of modern existence at bay.
Ordinarily, he was all for progress, believing that if you’re not advancing, you’re retreating. But here in Liberty Creek, newer wasn’t necessarily better. It was interesting that here, in a small white chapel in the middle of the New Hampshire woods, he’d discovered a different way of looking at the world. Glancing over at his daughters, he saw their blond heads together over the pictures in a children’s book of Bible stories while their new white shoes swung in rhythm. And for the first time since moving here, he saw what he’d been hoping to see.
They were happy.
Not long ago he’d been wondering if they’d ever recover from losing their mother at such tender ages. His own mourning had been daunting enough for him to go through, but seeing them so grief stricken had broken his heart on a daily basis for months. Eventually, he got used to their unexpected bouts of sadness, the tears that had often seemed to spring up out of nowhere. Settling into their new home had been challenging, but now—finally—Caitlin and Aubrey were content.
That did more to lift his own spirits than anything else possibly could, and he glanced up toward the heaven where he’d told them their mother now lived. Watching over them, making sure they were doing well. And for the first time since her death, thinking of Sarah made him feel better instead of worse. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and looked over, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get his attention.
But there was nothing there.
He was a practical man, so it was hard for him to believe that somehow his late wife had reached out to him, comforting him with a touch. But hard as he tried, he couldn’t come up with another explanation.