“You’re leaving teaching?”
The question was like a knife to her heart. “Yes.” She could only hope the monosyllable would discourage any questions. She glanced at Mark and Meggie, who were sitting back on their heels, listening wide-eyed.
He looked down at the sand castle for a moment, his hand absently patting at its towers. Then he looked back at her. “That wouldn’t be a problem. If everything goes the way I plan, Sarah will be attending a residential school in the fall. Right now is when I need someone. You could still go for interviews, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Residential school…Her mind brimmed with objections that were none of her business. Since she had no intention of doing as he asked, she couldn’t interfere.
Doing as he asked. For a moment her treacherous mind toyed with the possibility of her working with Sarah, of her teaching again. She pictured that solemn little face smiling, communicating. She saw herself tapping into the energy and intelligence that hid behind Sarah’s deafness.
No. It was impossible, and even considering it would be opening herself up to the kind of emotional pain she had barely started to recover from. Not to mention the totally inappropriate sizzle she felt when she was near Daniel Gregory.
“Look, I just can’t.” She forced her voice to be cool and firm. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of the question.” She stood. “Come on, kids, we’ve got to get home. Gather things up now.”
Daniel stood when she did, still way too close. When she moved, his hand closed lightly on her wrist. The slightest movement would break the contact, but she didn’t move.
“Think about it.” He leaned closer, a breath away. “Think about it. We’ll talk again.”
“Well? Get what you wanted?” Joe Phillips leaned on the registration desk in the ramshackle old house that was part home, part fishing lodge, his elderly face as weathered as the frame building. He’d come with the lodge when Daniel bought it and had long ago decided that fact gave him the right to know everything that Daniel did. He was the closest thing to family Daniel had, and it was good to have someone who was concerned about what happened to him and Sarah.
Daniel glanced at his daughter, watched as she put her doll to sleep in its cradle in the corner, apparently none the worse for her adventure.
“Not yet.” He took the glass of lemonade the other man held out to him. “But I will.”
Joe wrinkled his nose at that. “Don’t always get what we want. Not in this life.”
He stared down at the registration book, as if fascinated by the story it had to tell. Daniel knew what he was seeing only too well—there were eight rooms in the old lodge, but only three of them were occupied at the moment.
“I will this time.” Daniel drained the glass. The tangy liquid rinsed the salt taste from his lips. “I’ll get Leigh Christopher to watch Sarah, and we’ll get the construction finished. By the time the new bridge opens, we’ll be ready for the tourists.” He set down the glass and reached across the counter to straighten the bow tie Joe insisted on wearing when he worked. “We’re going to be rich, old man.” He glanced at Sarah. “Rich enough, anyway.”
Joe readjusted the tie to his satisfaction. “Don’t see how you can make the lady teach Sarah if she says no. Woman’s made up her mind. It’s like telling the tide not to come in.”
Daniel smiled, feeling confident for the first time in a long time. “This was meant to be.”
“Then why didn’t she say yes right away? Sounds like she knows her own mind.”
“Maybe I came on a little too strong today.” Daniel shrugged. “I’ll go over there tonight, apologize, ask her to help me out, just for a couple of days.”
Sarah was putting the doll to bed again, an endless repetition of the same action…patting it, snuggling it, loving it. He’d given up trying to figure out what it meant, but it broke his heart all the same.
“Once she’s been around Sarah for a couple of days, she’ll see how much Sarah needs her. She won’t be able to let her down.”
The way I did. The way Ashley did. The way everybody in her short life has done.
The only thing, the only person he or Sarah could rely on, was him. Not other people, not God. He should have learned that lesson by now.
He frowned out the window at the skeleton of the addition he was building to the inn. Sarah’s future. That was her security, and this time he wouldn’t let her down.
As for Leigh Christopher—something about that generous smile and tender touch told him she wanted to agree. So what was holding her back?
He puzzled at it, trying to imagine a scenario to explain the woman’s actions. Finally he shook his head.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what her reason was, because he wouldn’t give up until she said yes.
“We’re home,” Leigh called. She shook out the sandy beach towels and spread them on the gray deck rail. Josh and Jamie’s cedar shingle house nestled under the live oaks at the edge of the salt marsh, and the deck overlooked its constant changes as the tide pushed up the creek into the marsh, then receded.
“Home and hungry, I’ll bet.” Jamie held the kitchen screen door wide, welcoming her children with hugs. She wrinkled her nose at Meggie’s salty, sandy bathing suit. “You two get out of your swimsuits and wash up. And don’t forget to rinse out those suits. Supper will be on the table in a little while.”
Of course it would. Leigh looked at her sister, her affection mixed with both awe and amusement. Jamie had worked a full day at her accounting business and she’d still managed to beat them home and have supper cooking when they came through the door. High achiever had always been Jamie’s middle name.
“We found a losted little girl,” Meggie informed her mother. “And she couldn’t hear, so I spelled my name like Aunt Leigh showed me.”
“Lost,” Mark corrected his little sister for the tenth or eleventh time. “She was lost and she was deaf. So Aunt Leigh talked to her and then she found her daddy. We helped.”
“And her daddy wanted Aunt Leigh to come work for him, but she wouldn’t.” Meggie turned that direct blue gaze on Leigh. “Why wouldn’t you, Aunt Leigh? You could bring her here and we’d play.”
“Because I have other plans, pumpkin.” Leigh gave her talkative niece a hug.
“But it would be fun,” Meggie protested.
Leigh ruffled her hair. “Didn’t I hear Mommy say something about getting washed up? Hurry, and maybe we’ll have time for a game.”
“Chutes and Ladders!” Meggie shouted. “I’ll get it.”
“Wash first,” Jamie said.
