For that she was thankful. “Marriage is not part of my plans.” No man would want her, nor would she marry if one did momentarily profess love. It wouldn’t be fair to deprive a man of children. Besides, wouldn’t he grow to resent her? Better to remain single than take such a risk.
He gave her narrow-eyed concentration.
She refused to blink before his study, instead choosing to try to decide what color his eyes were. Green? Blue? Just when she’d decided on one, they shifted to the other. Ah. She’d learned something that might be useful in the future, should she get the job. His eyes changed color with his emotions. He had gone from green-eyed doubt to blue-eyed relief. For some inexplicable reason, it pleased her to have learned this tiny bit of information.
“Are you saying you have no beau?”
“I am indeed.” She fully intended to protect herself from further pain by avoiding anything but friendship with any man.
“Daddy. Where are you?” A young, demanding voice called from a room past the kitchen.
The smile on the man’s face made Louisa blink. The man looked as if the sun had come out and the sky turned blue at the sound of a little girl’s voice. He was obviously very fond of his daughter. “I’ll be right there.”
Her eyes stung. Her father had loved his daughters in such a fashion. It had been almost four years since his passing, but she missed him as though it was yesterday.
“Would you like to meet Ellie?”
“Yes, please.” Did this mean she had the job? Or would if she could relate to his daughter? Please, God. Give me wisdom.
“Come along.”
She followed him into the adjoining room. A china cupboard and sideboard, groaning under a collection of mismatched dishes, took up most of one wall, but in the middle of the room stood a bed, raised to elbow level on blocks. A blonde child lay on the bed, her chocolate-brown eyes watching Louisa with unblinking interest.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Louisa Morgan.” She glanced toward Emmet, but he stood back, observing her. Apparently he meant to see how she would handle the situation on her own. “And you are Ellie Hamilton.”
“So?”
“Ellie?” Her father’s voice carried gentle warning. “Be polite.”
The little girl gave Louisa an unrepentant stare, then smiled at her father. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He stepped forward. “Her cast goes from here—” he pushed the blanket to show a cast up to her chest “—and down to here.” This time he lifted the bottom of the covers. Only her toes peeked out. “So you can see she can’t move around much.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie. It can’t be much fun.” Louisa reviewed what she knew of the child. Seven years old. Motherless. Had fallen out of a tree and broken her leg.
“It’s not any fun. I hate it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she put on a full-blown pout.
“It’s necessary so your leg will heal.” Emmet’s voice was tight. It must hurt to see his child like this. “Even as it’s necessary for you to continue with your schoolwork. Which is why Miss Morgan is here.”
“No. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.” The child screamed and cried at the same time. “Please, Daddy, don’t make me.”
Emmet stepped to Ellie’s side, cradled her face between his palms. “Hush, sweetie. Don’t upset yourself like this.” He crooned wordless comfort.
Ellie wrapped her arms about Emmet’s neck and pulled his face down to rest on her cheek.
Louisa turned away, her throat clogged with emotion at seeing his gentle pain over his daughter. Feeling his helplessness. Understanding how Ellie felt. How often had Louisa had to watch life move on while she observed from the sidelines? Lord, all I want is a job, but perhaps You have something more for me here. She would follow God’s leading, but she would keep her heart under lock and key.
Emmet extricated himself from Ellie’s grasp. “You’ll be okay. I need to talk to Miss Morgan for a minute, then I’ll be back.”
“Then will you play with me?” A quiver in her voice tore at Louisa’s resolve. The poor child. If she got the job of teaching her, she would do everything she could to make the days pass quickly with fun activities.
“Miss Morgan?” Emmet indicated she should follow him. He led her through to the front room. “I don’t want Ellie to hear us.”
She sat while he went from one side of the room to the other, his strides long and hurried.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel.”
“No, you can’t.” He ground to a halt and jerked his thumb toward the room where his daughter lay. “It’s my fault—”
“How can you blame yourself for an accident?” She ached to explain that sometimes things just happened despite our best efforts. For no good reason. A person simply had to accept it and move on. The only other choice was to be angry and bitter. Not a pleasant alternative, to her way of thinking.
“I should— Never mind. It has nothing to do with the job.” He sat down and faced her. “I need to get Ellie into a routine of sorts as quickly as possible.” He sighed deeply, as if he regretted the decision he must make. “Miss Ross spoke highly of you. Let’s see how you do with Ellie. If you’re still interested in the job…”
At first all she cared about was getting paying work, but seeing the child, witnessing their affection, sensing the frustration in both of them…well, now she wanted the job. “When do you wish me to start?”
He laughed, his face suddenly years younger. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“I’ll have to get lesson plans and advice from Miss Ross but tomorrow is fine.”
“I hope you can make her happy.”
“I’ll do my best.” Though she knew a person, whatever age, was only as happy as they chose to be. But she could imagine getting Ellie to laugh, seeing Emmet smile at his daughter’s cheerfulness.
It wasn’t until she stood on the street, smiling with anticipation, that she realized she was imagining all the things she could never have—teaching a child in the safety of home, sharing the pleasure with a man.
She’d strayed wildly from her intention of guarding her emotions. This was only a job, she scolded herself. A child who needed to learn. Nothing more.
Now all she had to do was face Mother and inform her of her decision. She already knew how she’d react. Warnings she would make herself sick. Advice that she must take care of herself. But Louisa was tired of being coddled, of being careful. It certainly hadn’t prevented her from getting sick in the past. From now on, she intended to enjoy every bit of what she could squeeze from life. Certainly she knew her limitations. But no amount of hard work would make her barrenness more…or less…than it already was.
