A Father's Place. Marta Perry

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A Father's Place - Marta  Perry Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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what else?” she prompted gently.

      “I asked God to make Daddy stay here for good.” The words burst out. “And I thought it would work. But when I asked him, Daddy said he has to go out West again. And I don’t want him to!”

      Ellie drew the child close, heart hurting. Did Quinn realize how much his little girl missed him, even though a loving family surrounded her?

      “Kristie, I know I said God answers our prayers, and I believe that.” She spoke slowly. Caring for the spiritual well-being of the children in her class was one of the most important things she’d ever do, and she wanted to do it right.

      “But God knows what’s best for us. Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it’s no. And sometimes the answer is wait.” She smiled into the little face turned up to hers so trustingly. “I think that’s the hardest answer of all, because I hate to wait for things. But I remind myself that God loves me and wants what’s best for me. Do you think you could remember that, too?”

      “I guess so.”

      “I’m sure she will.”

      The unexpected masculine voice jolted her. Quinn stood in the doorway, and he’d obviously been listening for some time. Her cheeks flushed. Had he heard what Kristie’s prayer was about? And was he angry that she presumed to give his daughter advice?

      “Daddy!” Kristie raced across the room to throw her arms around his waist. “Are you going to church with me?”

      “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He gave her a quick hug, his face softening as he looked down at her.

      Ellie’s heart cramped. When he smiled at his daughter, the lines in Quinn’s face disappeared. The marks of grief and bitterness were magically erased, and he looked again like the college graduate in the picture on Gwen’s piano, smiling at the world as if he owned it.

      “You run down to the parlor and catch up with Grandma, okay? I want to talk to your teacher for a minute.”

      Kristie nodded, the clouds gone from her face, and danced toward the door. “We’ll wait for you,” she said importantly. “Don’t be late.”

      Yesterday it had been his mother; today it was his daughter. Quinn Forrester must feel she’d interfered with his family far too much.

      Quickly, before he could launch an attack, Ellie shoved the Sunday school books onto the shelf. “I’m afraid I don’t have time now.” She started for the door. “I’m playing the organ for the service, and I have to get ready.”

      But if she thought she was going to get rid of him that easily, apparently she was mistaken. He fell into step beside her. A dark suit, pale blue shirt and striped tie had replaced yesterday’s jeans, but he still looked like a man who belonged outdoors. And he moved as if the church hallway were a mountain trail.

      “I’ll walk with you, and we can talk on the way.” He pushed open the double doors that led from the Sunday school wing to the church itself, his hand strong and tanned against the pale wood.

      Maybe it was time to go on the offensive with him. “I suppose you think I shouldn’t have spoken that way to your daughter.” She certainly wouldn’t apologize for doing what a church school teacher should.

      Instead of counterattacking, Quinn tilted his head slightly as if considering. “No, I wouldn’t say I think that. You’re her Sunday school teacher. That’s your job, answering the tough questions.”

      His unexpected agreement took the wind out of her sails, and she glanced up to meet his steady gaze. For now, at least, it wasn’t accusing. “The questions are tough. Sometimes almost unanswerable.”

      “What do you do if you don’t have an answer?” He really seemed curious.

      She smiled. “Say so. Then I ask the pastor. That’s his job, after all.”

      “I’m sure he appreciates that.”

      She’d never have thought, after yesterday, that she and Quinn would be smiling at each other in perfect harmony. The tension inside her eased. They’d gotten off to a difficult start, but perhaps they could begin again. She didn’t want to be on uncomfortable terms with Gwen’s son.

      They reached the vestry before she could think of anything else to say. Was that all Quinn wanted to talk with her about?

      She reached into the closet and took out the shoes she wore for playing the pipe organ. She held them for a moment, waiting for him to speak, wondering if she should say anything more about Kristie.

      When the silence stretched out, she looked up at him. “I guess you overheard what Kristie’s prayer was about.”

      He nodded, a muscle flickering near his mouth, but he didn’t say anything.

      She took a deep breath. This was definitely not her business, but she couldn’t ignore Kristie’s prayers. “I don’t know much about your job, but I know she’d love it if you could work closer.”

      Quinn’s expression closed to a stiff, impenetrable mask. “That’s not possible. I go where the Corps of Engineers sends me. Unlike your father, I’m not a gentleman of leisure.”

      Her stomach clenched. There was the counterattack she’d expected. “My father is retired.” She forced the words out through suddenly stiff lips.

      Quinn leaned toward her, making her aware of how tiny the vestry was. He was much too close, and he took up all the available space. “What is he retired from?”

      She turned away, slipping on her shoes, buying time. So the battle wasn’t over between them. His brief friendliness had evaporated, and he wanted answers she had no intention of giving him.

      A tremor of fear shivered through her. If anyone in Bedford Creek knew the truth about her father, everyone would know. And if they did, the love and acceptance she’d grown to count on would vanish in an instant. She’d be alone again.

      She straightened slowly and looked at Quinn. If she were a better liar, she might be able to throw him off the track, but she suspected that was impossible. “Business,” she said crisply.

      She hurried through the door to the organ loft, knowing she was running away from him, knowing, too, that it was futile. Quinn Forrester wasn’t the kind of man to give up easily. He wanted the truth, but if he got it, he could destroy her happiness.

      Quinn stood frowning after her for a moment. He’d like to pursue her and drag some answers out of her, but he couldn’t. The opening notes already echoed from Grace Church’s elderly pipe organ. Where had Ellie trained? That was yet another thing he didn’t know about her.

      He walked back through the hallway to the parlor. It was surprising how little the people in Bedford Creek seemed to know about Ellie Wayne. Even his mother, who was usually a clearinghouse of local information, only seemed to know tidbits: that she’d worked in a craft shop in Philadelphia; that her mother died when she was young; that she was an only child. Hardly the kind of information Bedford Creek usually amassed about newcomers.

      And as far as Charles Wayne was concerned, the slate was even blanker, if possible. That was what had upset his sister enough to make her call him. No one knew anything, according to Rebecca, except that

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