his arm, signaling she understood. “There is no substitute for experience, but I believe a solid education can equip us to deal with life. Of course, our best help in life is to trust God. He promises to guide us through.”
Emmet could have been frozen stiff, for all the indication he gave that he heard her or was aware of her touch. Yet she didn’t withdraw her hand. She felt his troubled soul through her palm and wanted to soothe it. “You do believe in God’s love and care, don’t you?”
He shuddered. “I think I do. I like to think God brought me back to Golden Prairie for a reason, but I think He could have found a better way to do it than through Ellie’s accident.” By the time he finished, his voice grew harsh, uncertain. He shook his head. “I struggle to trust God when things are hard.”
She crossed her arms about her waist, pressing tight, her palm still warm from where it had touched him. “I suppose that’s what it means in Second Corinthians five, verse seven, when it says, ‘We walk by faith, not by sight.’ When we can’t see why things are the way they are, we choose to trust God anyway.”
“It’s that easy, is it?”
She smiled widely. “No, it’s that hard—but I prefer to trust God rather than my own assessment of the situation.” It had been a struggle to come to the place of trusting God in her barrenness, but she had to believe He had something else in store for her—something that would bring her satisfaction.
Adele must have heard them outside her door as she swung it open. “Mr. Hamilton, Louisa. I didn’t expect the two of you. Do come in.” She glanced from one to the other. “Is there a problem?”
Emmet spoke before Louisa could answer, but it didn’t matter. They’d come with a common purpose. “We agreed to seek your advice in Ellie’s lessons.”
“Very well.” Adele waved them toward the front row of desks as she sat behind the big teacher’s desk.
Louisa had no problem slipping into hers, but Emmet had to wedge into a desk designed for young children, not broad-chested men. Louisa ducked her head to hide her amusement and shifted her gaze toward Adele.
Adele Ross had become a friend when she learned of the collection of books Louisa had and begged to borrow a few. The woman pulled her hair into a severe knot at the back of her head, as if to prove her serious state of mind, as suited a teacher of young children. But Louisa knew she had the kindest heart and a long store of patience to accompany her cheery attitude. They had never discussed their respective ages, but Adele was probably nearing thirty. Closer to Emmet’s age than Louisa’s. She hadn’t thought of that before and tried to assess if either of them showed a flicker of interest in the other. When she detected none, she relaxed. Though why she should be relieved made no sense. Emmet and Adele would make a good couple. Except it would mean Adele would have to give up her teaching position. Although some school boards now allowed married teachers, this one did not.
Adele looked at Louisa. “Perhaps you’d better explain.”
Glad to be brought back from the useless side trail her thoughts had started down, Louisa nodded. “I have been unable to get Ellie interested in the lessons and Emmet—Mr. Hamilton—feels I am not suited for the job.”
Adele blinked in surprise, then did her best to hide it. She turned to Emmet. “Is that correct, Mr. Hamilton?”
“Ellie is unhappy with Miss Morgan’s lesson presentation. I thought you could suggest someone else. Someone who could get Ellie’s cooperation without upsetting her.”
Adele nodded slowly and considered his request several seconds before she replied. “I can think of no one I would consider more suitable than Louisa.”
Louisa smiled her thanks and gave Emmet a pleased look. She’d told him much the same, but it was gratifying to have Adele verify it.
Adele leaned forward, her hands clasped together, and addressed Emmet. “Why do you think Ellie is upset about the lessons?”
Emmet shot Louisa a look that reminded her of his daughter—full of defiance. “She says Louisa is mean to her.”
“I see. Precisely what does Louisa do that would fall into that category?”
Emmet opened and closed his mouth, then blinked twice. “I don’t know exactly. But several times I have come into the room in response to Ellie’s cries.” He glared at Louisa. “You must be doing something.”
Before Louisa could defend herself, Adele spoke. “I have been a teacher for a number of years and I know how serious a charge such as this is. But I need something more solid than the cries of your daughter.”
Louisa tried to protest, but Adele lifted a hand to signal silence. Was Adele taking Emmet’s side? Just because he was the parent? Adele smiled, taking the sting from her actions. “You’ll get a chance to speak, but I must get to the bottom of this.”
Louisa sat back and fumed. There was no bottom. No top. No sides. Because she’d never been mean. Not once.
“Now, Mr. Hamilton, please explain. Did you see Louisa strike your child?” She waited for Emmet’s answer. “No. Did Ellie accuse her of doing so?” Another pause in which Emmet could only shake his head. “No. Call her cruel names? No. Does she expect Ellie to do more work than she is capable of in her circumstances?”
Emmet shrugged.
Adele pressed him. “How much work has she done?”
“I’ve seen none.”
“You’ve seen nothing that could be constituted as cruelty. And you’ve seen no work. Is that correct?”
Emmet refused to answer. “I’ve seen Ellie cry. Heard her accusations.”
“I’m not discrediting that. But let’s hear Louisa’s explanation, shall we?”
Emmet sighed. His look said he’d like to see her get out of this.
“We have planned the lessons together. Nothing a grade-two student shouldn’t be able to do. In fact, many of my grade-one students could do the work.” Adele turned her gray-eyed gaze to Louisa. “How far have you come with the lessons?”
Louisa hung her head, a sense of complete failure swamping her. “I’ve accomplished nothing.”
“And why is that?”
She shared her concerns with Adele, but hated to admit she had only failure to report. “I have been unable to gain Ellie’s cooperation.”
“Can you explain what you mean by that?”
Louisa brought her head up and spoke directly to Emmet, ignoring his defensive expression that indicated if there was a problem, it was not Ellie’s fault. It couldn’t be. “I am not a teacher, but I have a very good guide. I’ve followed her suggestions. She said to win the child. She said to give her time to accept the idea. I tried. Then she said Ellie must understand she has to continue her lessons. Again, I tried, but no matter what I do, Ellie says she doesn’t know, doesn’t remember or flatly refuses to do any of the work. When I read she does her best to ignore me. I even brought a present as an incentive, as Adele suggested. That brought on an outburst because I refused to give her the present until
