His Two Little Blessings
Page 8
So he put the odd occurrence out of his mind and focused on the words to “Old Rugged Cross.”
* * *
When it was time for the girls to go downstairs for Sunday school, Emma waved goodbye and told them to have fun. It was so cute, watching the kids follow Holly and Lindsay from the chapel in a giggling, whispering line. Caitlin and Aubrey glanced back, waving at their father as if to reassure him that they’d be fine without him. For his part, Rick watched them protectively, his eyes somber even though he grinned back at them. When they were no longer in sight, he turned his attention back to the front with an audible sigh.
“They’ll be fine,” Emma reassured him, adding a smile. “They’re also gonna have a great time with Chase and the other kids.”
He grimaced but gave a single nod, returning her smile with a half-hearted one of his own. It must be hard, she thought, being a single father when he’d planned on sharing their childhood with Sarah. Instead, he was clearly still grieving her loss, not only for himself but his girls, too.
Impulsively, Emma reached out and lightly squeezed his hand in what she hoped would come across as a comforting gesture. To her surprise, his fingers grasped hers for a brief moment before letting go. His gaze was fixed on Pastor Welch, so Emma wasn’t sure what that grip was all about. Maybe she’d imagined it.
She put the incident aside and shifted her focus to the sermon.
“Family comes in many forms,” the preacher told them, smiling as his gaze swept through the standing-room-only church. “There are those we’re born to, and those we choose for ourselves later on.” Pausing, he glanced over at his wife, who beamed back at him. Facing forward again, he went on, “The ones we select often become just as precious to us as those we were raised by, because we have the option of leaving them if we want to. When we decide to stay instead and work things through, the bond between us gets stronger. Not by chance, but by choice.”
Rick shifted in his seat, and Emma peeked over to find him nodding slightly. Apparently, something in those words resonated with him, and she was dying to know what it was. She’d never ask him about it, of course, but her curiosity was humming all the same. As someone who’d been raised with a strong faith in God and His great works, she had a difficult time understanding Rick’s self-proclaimed ambivalence about religion. If he’d been touched by the simple, direct sermon this morning, she wondered if there was a possibility that he might find his way toward embracing the faith that meant so much to her.
Her last boyfriend had been on the fence about God, and it had always been a bone of contention for them as a couple. Her cancer diagnosis hadn’t helped the situation any, and when he’d confessed to her that he couldn’t deal with it, his revelation hadn’t surprised her. Handsome and charming, he was a fun guy to be around, but she’d learned that there wasn’t much to him beyond that. In a way, his leaving had been a blessing in disguise for her. They were headed precisely nowhere, and he’d saved her the trouble of coming up with a good reason to break things off.
Rick would never abandon someone who needed him.
Where on earth had that come from? Emma wondered, feeling self-conscious about even thinking something like that. She didn’t know him all that well, but what she had learned made her confident in her assessment, even though it seemed premature for her to be making it. His devotion to his daughters was obvious, and while it pained her to see him still grieving for his late wife, she admired him for remaining true to Sarah’s memory. The gold ring that glinted on his left hand was a tribute to the life that had ended far too soon, and Emma thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard of. Sad, but sweet. Like the man sitting beside her.
Staring down at her from above, she realized with a jolt as those deep blue eyes bore into hers with a curious glint. Cocking his head, he gave her a questioning look, and she felt herself blushing as she belatedly stood up and joined the others in midchorus of “How Great Thou Art.” The last time she’d fazed out in church, she was about ten, so it was more than a little embarrassing to be caught doing it now. From the corner of her eye, she caught her mother eyeing her strangely, and she smiled back to reassure her that there was nothing wrong.
When they all sat back down, Pastor Welch began the announcements with the usual birthdays, anniversaries and upcoming events happening around town. Then he put his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers and let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. “As many of you know, our little church is in need of some love these days. While God’s grace fills this room, He’s left it up to us to keep the walls of His house in good condition. There’s a clipboard going around now, and I hope you’ll all take a close look at it to see which jobs you’d be qualified to help us with. We need everything from construction and painting to refreshments and willing hands for cleanup, so there are spots for everyone to fill, whatever your abilities might be.”
While he went on with other news, the sheets went through the congregation, row by row. When Rick flipped through to write his name on the Painting page, Emma raised her eyebrow in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“I worked my way through college painting houses,” he shot back with a grin.
“So you’re more than just a nice suit and a fancy briefcase?”
He took the teasing with a good-natured grin. “I guess that’d depend on who you ask.”
A laugh burst free before she could stop it, which earned her some disapproving looks from the people seated nearby. Mouthing “Sorry,” she took the clipboard from him and passed it along.
“Nothing there for you?” he asked quietly.
“The high school art teacher and I are working on the mural in the back of the sanctuary,” she explained, nodding toward the fading artwork on the rear wall. “It’s the original, and it really needs to be properly cleaned and retouched so it will last another two hundred years.”
“You know how to do something like that?”
His question irked her for some reason, and she straightened to her full height beside him. “Yes, I do. I went to college, too, you know.”
“I do know,” he assured her in an apologetic tone. “And I’m impressed that your talents include restoring art as well as creating it.”
Well, that was different, she conceded, feeling a bit foolish for getting her back up over nothing. People misjudged her often enough, she should be used to it by now. It could be vexing, being Sam and Brian’s little sister, judged by people who’d known her since the day she was born. Sometimes she pondered what it would be like to move away and start over in a place where no one knew her or her family and had no preconceived notions about her and what she was capable of.
Rick had done that, she reasoned, making his own way, furthering his career while he raised his daughters. It had turned out well for him, and she couldn’t help speculating if she might be able to do the same for herself.
She’d never seriously considered making a life anywhere other than Liberty Creek. Familiar and comfortable, this sleepy, tight-knit community was all she’d ever known. While she didn’t picture herself in the bedlam of New York City or Boston, there were other, smaller cities with vibrant artistic communities that appealed to her. During her college years, she’d visited New Haven, Connecticut, and Providence, Rhode Island, with her friends. She’d loved spending time in the galleries and museums, envisioning her own work hanging on their walls. In her hometown, she’d always be sweet little Emma Calhoun, the elementary school art teacher. Until her job had been put on the chopping block, she’d always assumed that she’d spend her entire career here.
But what if Rick’s efforts failed and she was forced to start over again somewhere else? Now that she’d stared that monster in the face, the concept didn’t seem quite as scary to her as it had at first. A devoted optimist, she was a firm believer that when God closed a door, He opened a window. Maybe the unpredictable situation that she’d been viewing a
s a problem was actually an opportunity for her to decide what she really wanted.
If fighting cancer had taught her anything, it was that life didn’t have to remain the way it was to be fulfilling. The future might be different from the past, but that didn’t necessarily make it bad.
Accepting that just might make the eventual outcome of the school board’s deliberations easier for her to accept. Whatever it was, she knew that she’d find a way to be all right. Because she was a Calhoun, and for generations Calhouns had taken their blows and soldiered on. That undefeatable spirit was a family legacy that she had every intention of honoring.
Just as she made her silent vow, she realized that the service was over. She was grateful that her parents no longer asked her questions about what she’d learned in church that morning, the way they had when she was younger. Today she’d have no choice other than to ’fess up about her wandering mind, and that would have been embarrassing, to say the least. Caitlin and Aubrey hurried through the milling crowd, crashing into Rick and bookending him in a jubilant double hug.
“I love Sunday school, Daddy!” shy Aubrey exclaimed, brilliant blue eyes shining with joy. “I made two new friends, and their names are Frannie and Gracie. They’re going to the playground in the square now. Can we go, too?”
“It’s time for lunch, sweetness.”
“Pleeease,” she begged, folding her hands in an imploring gesture that would melt the heart of an ice statue. “Just for a little while?”
Rick glanced at Caitlin, and she shrugged. “It’s fine with me. My friend Hannah will be there with her little brother, so I can hang out with her.”
“Well, I guess we’re going to the playground, then,” he conceded, chuckling as his girls raced for the door. Turning to Emma, he asked, “Would you like to go, too?”
The casual invitation was the last thing she would have expected, and at first she wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t like they were a couple, and he was obliged to include her in his plans. Then her brain kicked into gear, and she said, “Oh, that’s family time. I’d hate to be a third wheel.”
“Technically, you’d be the fourth wheel,” he corrected her, adding a mischievous grin she’d never seen on him before. “And if you want to come, we’d love to have you. The girls, I mean,” he amended quickly.
Combined with the earlier grasping of her hand, his slip made her curious about what he might be thinking, and she debated asking him about it. After a quick mental tug-of-war, she decided that it couldn’t hurt to find out what was going on behind those intelligent eyes. While they followed after the girls at a more sedate pace, she summoned an easygoing tone. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
Glaring over at him, she shook her head. “Are you honestly that clueless, or are you just messing with me?”
He hesitated, then laughed out loud. “Okay, you got me. It’s nice to have another grown-up to talk to, and you’re great company.”
Emma didn’t hear that very often, and she couldn’t quite believe it now. “Really? But I’m so quiet.”
“And funny and sweet,” he informed her in that mellow, almost-Southern accent of his. As they crossed the street and joined the people gathering around the playground, he gave her another boyish grin. “I have to say, I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Emma. You’re one of a kind.”
She laughed. “Does that work on the other women you’ve known?”
Suddenly, the humor left his expression, and he met her gaze with a direct, very intense, one of his own. A mixture of fondness and sorrow, it cast a shadow over what had started out as a lighthearted exchange between friends. “Only one.”
Feeling horrible for dredging up sad memories for him, Emma waited a beat before responding. “Sarah?” When he nodded, she took a deep breath to steady her voice. “I’m honored. May I ask you something?”
A little of the darkness lifted, and he shrugged much the way Caitlin had earlier. “Sure.”
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to think of her and smile?”
He took a moment to consider that and nodded. “Someday. People tell me the pain eases, but I didn’t believe that. Until recently, anyway.”
“What changed recently?”
The corner of his mouth quirked in a half grin, and something she couldn’t describe glittered in his eyes. Then in a flash it was gone, and he glanced over to where his daughters were running across the wooden suspension bridge, playing follow-the-leader with their friends. Coming back to Emma, he said, “We left Richmond and moved to Liberty Creek. A lot of things have changed since then.”
Emma got the distinct impression that there was more to it than that, but when he didn’t offer any more of an explanation, she decided that it was best to leave things as they were. She liked Rick, and under different circumstances she might have been open to having a romantic relationship with him.
But he had a demanding career and two wonderful daughters to raise, and Emma’s future was far from certain, both personally and professionally. If she ended up losing her job—or her battle with leukemia—she didn’t want to drag anyone else down with her. The path forward for her was murky at best, and while she could accept that for herself because she didn’t have a choice, she’d never dream of forcing it on anyone else.
So at least for now, she was better off keeping the very appealing single father at a distance. Teaching her students, wherever they might be, sharing her love of art and encouraging them to explore their own creativity because the world could never have enough bright, beautiful things.
When she was first diagnosed, that approach to life had felt right to her. But now, for some reason, it had a hollow ring to it. She wasn’t sure what had changed in the meantime, but the conclusion that had once left her feeling satisfied was now making her feel the opposite.
Why, she couldn’t say. But she wasn’t one to ignore her emotions, and on this sunny Sunday, she just felt sad.
Chapter Six
Emma’s small living room was filled to near-bursting.
She’d pushed the artwork back to make room for some chairs and a low table to hold snacks, expecting no more than a few people. Somehow, the low-key meeting she’d arranged for Rick and the teachers whose jobs were in jeopardy had morphed into over a dozen people, each of whom had brought along their own ideas of what to do. The minimal treats she’d picked up from the bakery earlier were long gone, and she slipped into the kitchen to place a culinary SOS.
“Gran, I need your help,” she began, smiling at Ellie Calhoun’s infectious laughter on the other end of the phone.
“Anything for you, baby doll. What can I do?” Emma wasn’t sure what she needed, so she relayed the number of guests that she was unexpectedly entertaining and the fact that her own fridge held nothing beyond lunchmeat and some condiments so old that their expiration dates were illegible. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to grocery shop.”
“I know, but you really need to make time for it,” her grandmother chided gently. “You’re under a lot of stress, and you need to make sure you eat well. We don’t want you getting sick.”
Emma had been eating some of her dinners with the Marshalls, but for some reason she was hesitant to mention that to anyone. Then again, it wouldn’t take long for Rick’s neighbors to become aware of her frequent visits there, so before too much longer, everyone would assume—
What? she wondered. That they were seeing each other? It wasn’t true, of course, but she knew that denying the rumor would only add to the buzz. The best approach would be to ignore it all and live her life the same way she had before she ever met him. She’d never cared much about what folks thought of her, after all. If fighting cancer had taught her anything, she’d learned what was truly important to her and what just didn’t matter all that much.
Let the gossips spread around whatever the
y wanted, she thought as she went back into her crowded living room. She knew the truth about her relationship with Rick, and that was all that mattered to her.
“I don’t know about this idea of yours, Emma,” Dina Thompson commented with a sour look. “Working with Rick Marshall? My neighbors went to him for a personal loan a couple of weeks back, and after making them jump through all kinds of hoops, he ended up turning them down. They told me he’s a pretty cold fish.”
“I’ve heard the same thing,” another woman chimed in, scowling in obvious disapproval. “All numbers, no heart.”
Emma instantly jumped to his defense. “I’m sure there were good, logical reasons for them not getting the loans they requested. Rick has a responsibility to the bank to make sure their money is used well. Besides, he’s coming to this meeting on his own time, to help us devise a strategy for saving our jobs.” Winging a look around the group of teachers seated on her mismatched pieces of hand-me-down furniture, she summoned her mother’s infamous don’t-mess-with-me look. “Maybe you should wait to hear what he has to say and form your own opinions instead of taking idle gossip for the truth.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Dina huffed, sitting back and crossing her arms. “You don’t have a family to worry about.”
Emma tried very hard not to take the shot personally, but it was hard. Especially when Christine Gardiner grimaced in agreement. Emma had worked alongside these women for years, and she knew them to be fair, nonjudgmental people. Of course, their dire outlook on the situation might have something to do with their sudden change of attitude toward her. For the first time she realized that she might not be up to the task she’d set for herself. But then her New Englander backbone asserted itself, and she looked each of them directly in the eyes before speaking in the calmest voice she could muster.
“I know you’re both scared. I am, too. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I have no desire to leave Liberty Creek for another job somewhere else. I love my students, and just the thought of leaving them behind makes me want to cry.”