working?”
She turned at the voice. Daniel leaned against the door frame, looking at her with a half smile. Some thread of tension eased inside her. At least he wasn’t still angry.
“Just cleaning up.” She held out the picture. “Look at this.”
He took the paper, glanced at it, then looked at her, eyes startled. “Sarah did this?”
She smiled. “All by herself. I asked her to paint a picture of her family, and that’s what she came up with. Great, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen her paint. Or draw.” He touched the figure holding the hammer. “I didn’t even know we had paints.”
“You didn’t.” Sarah’s belongings consisted primarily of dolls, stuffed animals and toys suitable for a younger child. “I brought them.”
“I guess I should have thought of that.” He looked around the pink-and-white room. “Sarah’s aunt bought most of this stuff for her. I wasn’t sure what she’d like.”
She probably shouldn’t ask, but the question spilled out of her mouth anyway. “What about the doll and cradle?”
His expression grew wary. “What about it?”
“Did you buy it for her?”
“No.” His mouth tightened. “Her aunt Judith did, I think. Anyhow, Judith said it was important to Sarah.” His expression clearly said he didn’t intend to pursue the subject. “You liked your day with Sarah.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” She took the picture back from him and fastened it to the closet door, where Sarah could admire her work. “Of course I did.”
“Better than burgers and fried sweet potatoes?”
He was pressing her, and the only possible response was a light one. “I like fried sweet potatoes. Don’t you?”
He took a step closer. “To eat, not to serve.” He made an impatient gesture, as if sweeping away the burgers and sweet potatoes. “Sarah needs you. I want you to stay.”
She’d already given him every reason but the real one. “I…please don’t ask me again, Daniel. I just can’t.”
“Why not?” His dark eyes held hers, demanding an answer.
Anger flickered through her. This wasn’t fair. “Look, I have my reasons. You don’t have the right to push me for explanations.”
“You pushed me.”
She felt the heat flood her cheeks. She’d pressed him for answers, for explanations he’d been clearly reluctant to give. And now she expected him to coddle her tender feelings. Obviously he wasn’t going to.
“I’m sorry for that.”
He shook his head in a swift, determined motion. “You did it because you care about Sarah. Now I want answers for the same reason.”
The mixture of pain and love in his dark eyes undid her. The moment when she could have walked away was gone. She knew both of them too well already. She turned from that gaze and moved to stare out the white-curtained window at sea and sky.
“I let you believe I quit teaching.” It took an effort to keep her voice steady. “That’s not quite true. I was fired.”
“Why?”
His neutral tone surprised her. She’d expected…well, shock, at least.
She took a deep breath. “I taught at a private school…small classes, lots of time to give individual attention. There was one child, Tommy.” Her heart hurt when she thought of Tommy, of how she’d failed him. “He was going through a bad time, his parents splitting up.” Too late she remembered that Daniel’s wife had left him.
“The kid was caught in the middle.”
She nodded. “I tried to help. The father seemed more approachable, so I talked to him, looked for ways we could help Tommy deal with it. Tommy had been making such progress up to then, really coming out of his shell. I didn’t want to see him slip back.”
She rubbed her arms, cold in spite of the heat of the day. Daniel stood perfectly still behind her, and she didn’t want to see his expression.
“Then it all blew up in my face. The mother found out I’d met with her husband. She accused me of interfering, of improper conduct—” She stopped, flushing at the memory of the horrendous scenes. “She threatened to sue me and the school.”
“So they fired you.”
She nodded. “It was the only way out for them. The publicity alone could have damaged the school. She finally agreed to drop the suit if they got rid of me. So they did.”
“What does that have to do with Sarah?”
For a moment she froze, sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. Then she swung toward him.
“Don’t you understand? The lawsuit, the adults—that’s not important. What’s important is the child! I failed Tommy. My bad judgment, my stupid pride, thinking I had all the answers…and Tommy was the one who suffered for it.”
“What happened to him?”
Leigh had to swallow her tears at the memory. “He retreated into himself. He stopped trying. And it was because I failed him.”
She forced herself to look at Daniel. His strong face was a mask, giving away nothing. Then he turned. Walked away.
She took a ragged breath, trying to hold the guilt at bay. She’d finally convinced him she wasn’t a fit person to care for his child. He wouldn’t be bothering her about that anymore.
She heard his footsteps cross the hall, then he was coming back. He thrust something into her hands…a photograph in a heart-shaped frame.
“Look at that.” His fingers were strong on hers. “That’s Sarah a few days before she and her mother left.”
She looked. Daniel, holding a chubby baby with dark hair. Love shone from a face that was more open than she’d seen since she met him.
“You don’t have a monopoly on failure, Leigh.” His voice gentled. “Believe me, I know all about it.”
He obviously felt the breakdown of his marriage was his fault. She didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t seem to expect her to.
“The only question for me is whether you’ll be good for Sarah. And I know the answer to that.”
She blinked back treacherous tears. Daniel, knowing her past and still wanting her to stay, didn’t remove the main obstacle, not for her.
If she stayed, if she spent the summer with Sarah, it would hurt so much to leave. But maybe, in a way, it would atone for failing Tommy. How could she stay? How could she not?
“I’ll
