by Renee Ryan
“A very good thing.”
Supper went without a hitch. By the end of the meal Violet kept rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms and yawning loudly.
“I see we have a tuckered-out little girl,” Rachel said.
Tristan smiled fondly at the exhausted child and then took in the faces of his other two daughters. “Make that three tuckered out little girls.”
“We had a busy day,” Rachel said by way of explanation.
“Come on, girls.” Tristan pushed away from the table and rose to his feet. “Time for bed.”
Not a single argument followed this pronouncement.
Putting Daisy in charge of her sisters, Tristan sent the three of them to change into their nightgowns. Once they were gone, he started to clear the table.
Rachel shook her head at him. “Go take care of your daughters. I’ll finish up in here.”
Nodding, he left the kitchen without a backward glance.
Alone for the first time all day, Rachel took the opportunity to look out the lone window while she washed the dishes. The sun had set a full hour ago and now the sky had taken on a deep purple tint.
This was her least favorite time of the day, when she felt the loneliest. Even on the trail, when she’d been surrounded by literally hundreds of people, she’d had moments of feeling apart from the others. The sensation had increased when Ben fell in love with Abby, and again when Emma fell in love with Nathan.
A burst of melancholy swept through her. She’d had a wonderful day with the girls, nearly perfect, but she couldn’t forget her time here was limited. It wouldn’t be long before Tristan found a woman to marry him on his terms. Once that happened, he would no longer need her.
What then?
The sound of laughter cut through her despair. Rachel’s mood instantly lifted. It was as if the Lord was reminding her to live in the moment. Seize whatever joy she could. All would turn out as it should.
Smiling, she carried the tub of dirty dishwater outside and dumped the contents into the hard ground. She set the empty tub upside down near the door and returned to the kitchen.
The sound of tiny feet pounding on the wooden floor heralded Daisy’s arrival mere seconds before the child appeared in the doorway. She wore a long white nightgown and a big smile. “Da said you should come join us for bedtime stories.”
“I’d be delighted.” Touched by the invitation, Rachel took the child’s hand and escorted her back through the house. Halfway to their destination, she felt a burst of yearning break free, a painful hope that spread all the way to her soul.
If only this family were mine.
Her breath hitched in her throat. They can be yours, she reminded herself. All you have to do is agree to Tristan’s conditions for a marriage in name only.
Sorrow dug a foothold in her heart. Rachel knew herself too well. She’d never be satisfied with such a cold, impersonal arrangement. She wanted more out of marriage than convenience.
She wanted love, family, forever.
She guided Daisy the final steps to her room in silence.
Tristan met them on the threshold. His handsome face looked tired beneath the muted light from the wall sconce. Rachel barely resisted the urge to reach up and smooth away the exhaustion she read on his face.
“I was told a bedtime story is the final event for the evening,” she said, in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.
“It is, indeed.” He cracked a lopsided smile and reached out to her.
Rachel took his offered hand. It felt incredibly right to have her fingers linked with his.
Under the circumstances, there was only one course of action at her disposal. She pulled her hand free.
Chapter Fourteen
Tristan hadn’t realized he’d taken Rachel’s hand until she drew away from him. He felt the brush of her fingertips slide lightly across his palm. The subsequent roll in his gut was both unexpected and agonizing. Even more unsettling, additional waves of...something stabbed at the back of his throat.
He sucked in a harsh breath.
Rachel’s easy smile faded, replaced by an anxious grimace that marred her lovely features ever so slightly. She was clearly distressed. Tristan hated knowing he was the cause of her uneasiness.
Keeping his gaze averted, he moved past her and helped Daisy into bed.
The little girl blinked up at him. “Da, can she live with us forever and ever and ever?”
Though the request came seemingly out of nowhere, Tristan didn’t need to question his daughter about the meaning behind her words. He knew Daisy wanted Rachel to move in with them. By the sharp gasp coming from behind him, he figured the woman in question knew this, too.
“Oh, Da, please?” Lily sat up in her bed and swept her gaze between him and Rachel. “Can she come live with us? Please, please, please?”
He swallowed back another burst of that same...something in the back of his throat. In a tender gesture, he pulled the covers up to Daisy’s chin, then patted Lily on the head.
“Miss Rachel already has a home. She lives next door with her brother and his wife, remember?”
Both children’s lower lips jutted out. Violet sucked hard on her thumb.
“It’s not the same as her living with us here,” Daisy argued.
No, it wasn’t.
But Tristan had asked Rachel to marry him and she’d said no. That was the end of it, at least from his perspective. No matter how well she’d handled her first day with the girls, he and Rachel wanted two very different things from marriage.
Unless one of them changed their minds, they would never come to a satisfactory agreement.
He turned his gaze to Rachel, who’d been suspiciously quiet throughout his exchange with his daughters. Her eyes had grown tender, almost wistful. Would she agree to his terms for the sake of the girls?
It would be unfair of him to ask.
Tristan cleared his throat and returned his attention to his daughters, making a point to look at each one in turn.
“Miss Rachel has been in our home for only a day.” Choosing his words carefully, he lowered into the chair next to Daisy’s bed. “We don’t need to...”
“Decide anything just yet,” Rachel finished for him, pushing deeper into the room. Holding his gaze, she sat in the chair at the foot of Violet’s bed. “For now, how about I tell you another Bible story?”
“Oh, yes, please.” Daisy spoke for all three of them.
Rachel looked at Tristan. “Do you have a preference?”
He thought for a moment, remembering the last time she’d asked the same question. “I’d like to hear the rest of the story about Jacob and Rachel.”
“I already finished that one, this afternoon at naptime.”
Well, that was...disappointing. “What about Daniel in the lion’s den?”
“Excellent choice. That’s one of my favorites.” She punctuated this with a smile.
He couldn’t help himself. He smiled back.
She shifted in her chair, stretched out her legs and began the tale. “Daniel was a young man who loved and obeyed the Lord from a very early age. Unfortunately, his homeland was conquered by an enemy king and he was taken into slavery...”
As Rachel explained how even in captivity Daniel remained a man of conviction and valor, Tristan allowed the tension in his shoulders to leak out him, one exhale at a time.
Her soft, lilting voice filled the room, wrapping them all in a safe cocoon of her making.
Peace settled over him like an invisible balm.
He closed his eyes and allowed the story to wash away the concerns of his day. He appreciated the way Rachel told the story with her audience in mind. His own mother used to tell this same story to him when he was a boy. Rachel focused on slightly dif
ferent details—less lion-teeth-gnashing—but the overall impact was equally exciting.
Tristan opened his eyes and found himself transfixed by the way the flickering lantern cast a golden glow over Rachel’s face. No denying, she was an attractive woman. Her features were well-defined and in perfect proportion to one another. Her eyes had an exotic tilt to them that set her apart from the other members of her family.
In truth, she didn’t look much like any of her siblings.
As he continued watching her, Tristan wondered why Grayson had intimated that Emma was prettier than Rachel. Emma was certainly more striking upon first glance, but Rachel had a unique, rare beauty that revealed itself over time. To Tristan’s way of thinking, that made her far more beautiful.
An unsettling thought occurred to him. If her own brother thought Emma the prettier of the two, had others dismissed Rachel in favor of her sister, also? Something dark tugged at Tristan’s heart, a sensation that felt like anger, anger on Rachel’s behalf.
He had a sudden urge to slay all her dragons, to make the world a safe place for her.
A soft breeze wove through the cracked window, creating a pleasant feel to what was becoming a tender moment, at least in Tristan’s mind. He tried not to read too much into the situation. Rachel was merely telling a Bible story to his daughters with him in the room.
For all intents and purposes, she was merely performing the job he’d hired her to do. Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Perched on the edge of her chair, she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “The guards approached the lion’s den with Daniel locked in chains. A terrible, frightening roar from the hungry lions filled the air and—”
“How many lions were in there?” Daisy asked, eyes wide.
Taking the interruption in stride, Rachel smiled over at the child. “No one knows for sure, but definitely a lot.”
“Do you think there were hundreds of them?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know about hundreds.” Rachel reached out and patted the child’s foot. “But definitely enough to kill Daniel the moment he was thrown in the den.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “Did he die?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Rachel sat back in her chair and continued the story.
As she wove the rest of the adventurous tale, she glanced over at Tristan and caught him watching her. He didn’t attempt to look away. He couldn’t.
She kept talking even as her beautiful brown eyes searched his, her gaze full of profound gentleness and something more. Something he’d only ever seen in one other woman’s gaze.
He swallowed back a surge of emotion.
Get out, he told himself, before it’s too late.
Good advice. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
Lips pressed in a grim line, he tore his gaze away from Rachel’s and returned his attention to his daughters. All three fought to keep their eyes open. They’d be asleep in a matter of minutes.
When their eyes finally did close and their breathing evened out, Tristan seized the opportunity to make his break.
Unsure if they were completely asleep, he climbed silently to his feet and padded out of the room without making a sound.
Once he was safely in the hallway, he leaned back against the wall and took in several long pulls of air.
There was no other sound in the house but the sweet melody of Rachel’s voice. Even in speech, her voice had a musical quality to it. Tristan could listen to her tell stories all evening.
In the span of a single day Rachel had completely taken over his household. She’d won over his daughters, and him. She’d brought music back into all their lives. And hope for better days.
If Rachel had accomplished that much in a single day, what feats would she be able to pull off in a week, a month?
A year?
He wanted to know. He desperately wanted to know. Enough to make another offer of marriage? Enough to change the rules between them and agree to a union with Rachel as God intended?
No, Tristan would not ask her again to marry him, primarily because he found her far too attractive to settle for a marriage in name only. He recognized the irony, of course. The very reasons that made him contemplate a real marriage with Rachel were the very same reasons he couldn’t marry her.
The soft sound of footsteps threaded through his thoughts. Rachel had joined him in the hallway.
“They’re asleep,” she whispered. “I continued with the story until I was sure.”
He nodded, then directed her to follow him through the house and out onto the front stoop. He pulled the door closed but left a slight crack in case one of his daughters stirred or cried out for him in their sleep.
The moon was full tonight, casting a veil of golden light over the land and a dreamy feel to the moment. “The girls adore you.”
Rachel laughed softly. “They’re wonderful children, Tristan, and so very lovely.”
As are you.
He met her gaze, then instantly regretted it. Several long, dark strands of hair had come loose from her braid and now curled around her face. Even in her disheveled state she was remarkably pretty. A woman shouldn’t be this stunning after wrangling three young girls all day.
As though uncomfortable under his stare, she smoothed an unsteady hand over her hair, then tucked a small portion behind her ear. The gesture drew his attention to the flawless skin of her face in the moonlight.
A light breeze swirled around them. When he breathed in her scent, a pleasant blend of lavender and fresh linens, everything in him settled and simply...let...go.
“By all accounts it appears your day with the girls went well.”
“Far better than I expected.” She blinked very slowly, her brown eyes nearly black under the night sky. “You once told me your daughters were shy and entirely too timid for children their age.”
“I remember.” At the time, he’d been telling the truth.
“That doesn’t describe the little girls I cared for today.”
“They like you,” he said simply.
“I like them.” She braided her fingers together in front of her and smiled fondly at something in the distance, as if caught up in a memory. “The girls and I really had a wonderful day together. Did you know Violet dances as well as she sings? And that Lily is already showing an aptitude for drawing? And that Daisy has a heart for small animals? She rescued a grasshopper from being trampled under one of her sisters’ feet.”
Tristan hadn’t known these things. “Tell me more.”
As she launched into the specifics, something powerful passed between them, a moment of complete contentment that went beyond words. He could get used to this, hearing Rachel tell him about her day with the girls. He enjoyed laughing with her over something one of them had said or done.
“It’s getting late,” he said, cutting her off midsentence. It was either that or pull her into his arms and...
He cut off the rest of the thought. “You should head home, before Grayson comes looking for you.”
She blinked at him in puzzlement, then dropped her head and stared down at her hands. “Yes, all right.”
He wanted to walk her to her doorstep, but he couldn’t leave his daughters alone in the house, even for that short amount of time.
“I’ll watch from here until I know you’re safe.”
She hesitated a moment, seeming to have something more to say, but then nodded. “I’ll see you and the girls first thing tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll be here.”
She set out. When she was midway between the houses, Tristan opened his mouth to call her back. He couldn’t say why he wanted her to return to his side, only that he didn’t want her to leave him just yet.
He shoved aside the selfish
wish. She’d had a long day. Best to let her go.
* * *
Rachel could feel Tristan’s regard on her. She resisted the urge to peek over her shoulder and smile at him. She seemed to smile a lot in his presence. How could she not?
He was handsome and kind, a good man and father who adored his daughters. Was it any wonder Rachel found herself smiling at him? A lot?
Giving in to temptation, after all, she climbed onto her brother’s front stoop and glanced over at Tristan.
He was still outside his house, still watching her from the spot where she’d left him. Though his face was cast in shadow she could feel his intensity. She tossed him a wave over her head.
He gave her a short nod, before she disappeared inside the house. Grayson was waiting for her in the entryway. “You’re home late.”
She bristled at his impatient tone. Crossing her arms over her waist, she frowned at her ever-vigilant, overprotective big brother. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I stayed to help Tristan put the girls to bed.”
His gaze narrowed over her face. “Are you sure that was wise?”
Why wouldn’t it be? She felt her frown dig deeper at the odd question. “Tristan hired me to take care of his daughters. Putting them to bed is part of my job.”
“Perhaps, but I urge you not to get too attached to the McCullough family.”
His words were a harsh reminder that she was only a temporary solution to a permanent problem in Tristan’s home.
“I may have turned down Tristan’s marriage proposal, but I made a promise to help him out until he finds another woman to marry.” She lifted her hands, palms facing forward, to forestall whatever response he thought to give. “I will follow through on my commitment.”
Grayson’s shoulders visibly tensed. “Now, see, that’s the problem. You go at everything too hard, Rachel, and put too much of yourself into every task you undertake.”
At his accurate assessment of her, she felt her own shoulders tense. “As Christians we’re called to serve.”
It was true. She shouldn’t sound so defensive.