Книга - The Cowboy Father

The Cowboy Father
Linda Ford


With Alberta in the grip of the Depression, Louisa Morgan is desperate to bolster her family's finances.But how can she tutor bedridden Ellie Hamilton? The little tomboy is more interested in making mischief than studying sums. And the girl's bond with her handsome papa is another reminder to Louisa of the children she'll never have. For Emmet Hamilton, strength means shouldering burdens alone.He never thought he'd let himself share his child, or his heart, ever again. But before long, Louisa's kindness and optimism start to change the cowboy's mind. Maybe he can gain the courage to trust again—in Louisa, in God's grace, and in this new family….







To Help Her Family…and Heal His Heart

With Alberta in the grip of the Depression, Louisa Morgan is desperate to bolster her family’s finances. But how can she tutor bedridden Ellie Hamilton? The little tomboy is more interested in making mischief than studying sums. And the girl’s bond with her handsome papa is another reminder to Louisa of the children she’ll never have.

For Emmet Hamilton, strength means shouldering burdens alone. He never thought he’d let himself share his child, or his heart, ever again. But before long, Louisa’s kindness and optimism start to change the cowboy’s mind. Maybe he can gain the courage to trust again—in Louisa, in God’s grace, and in this new family.…


The Cowboy Father

Linda Ford



Fireworks

Valerie Hansen







The Cowboy Father

Linda Ford


“You have what I’ve always wanted.”

Louisa looked as surprised as if Emmet had announced he carried rain in his back pocket. “Really? I can’t imagine.”

“Family. Siblings.” His voice had thickened, but he couldn’t help it. “I always felt lonely growing up alone.” Abandoned.

She looked away, her gaze seeking the far edge of the field. “You know what I want?”

“No. What?” Whatever it was, he wished he could give it to her.

She paused for a beat. Two. Shuddered as if a chill had raced across her shoulders. She tried to speak, but her voice caught.

It obviously meant a lot to her. And his heart softened with such a protective urge that it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hold her close, keep her safe.

“For it to rain.” Her voice rang with determination. “I pray for it every single day.”

He knew without a doubt that wasn’t what she’d started to say. Disappointment stained his insides. What was she afraid to admit she needed?


Dear Reader,

In 2012, Love Inspired Books is proudly celebrating fifteen years of heartwarming inspirational romance! Love Inspired launched in September 1997 and successfully brought inspiration to series romance. From heartwarming contemporary romance to heart-stopping romantic suspense to adventurous historical romance, Love Inspired Books offers a variety of inspirational stories for every preference. And we deliver uplifting, wholesome and emotional romances that every generation can enjoy.

We’re marking our fifteenth anniversary with a special theme month in Love Inspired Historical: Family Ties. Whether ready-made families or families in the making, these touching stories celebrate the ties that bind and prove why family matters. Because sometimes it takes a family to open one’s heart to the possibility of love. With wonderful stories by favorite authors Linda Ford and Ruth Axtell Morren, an exciting new miniseries from Regina Scott and a tender tale by debut author Lily George, this month full of family-themed reads will warm your heart.

I hope you enjoy each and every story—and then come back next month for more of the most powerful, engaging stories of romance, adventure and faith set in times past. From rugged handsome cowboys of the West to proper English gentlemen in Regency England, let Love Inspired Historical sweep you away to a place where love is timeless.

Sincerely,

Tina James

Senior Editor


Dedicated to the memory of my father, who was widowed with six children during the Depression and fought to provide for them so they weren’t taken away. He succeeded despite the harsh realities of that era. Through it all, his faith survived and grew, and when he later remarried he was able to pass that strength, faith and hope on to myself

and my siblings born to that second marriage.

I thank God for the godly example he lived.

* * *

If God so clothe the grass, which is today in the field, and tomorrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith.

—Matthew 6:30


Contents

Chapter One (#ude2d27b8-4c12-5893-8561-f1c8141a024c)

Chapter Two (#ue934f174-a694-582b-b86b-1b918d2f7a1b)

Chapter Three (#u63ce2178-14bf-5736-ac28-954c01b70665)

Chapter Four (#ua881cf22-f2aa-5da8-aa4a-420776efe90f)

Chapter Five (#u1bb56b60-4d9b-5cb6-bc76-a1aa7f8c9e3d)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Bonus Story FIREWORKS (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Golden Prairie, Alberta

April 1933

Louisa Morgan paused before the battered door of the Hamilton house. She’d prayed for an opportunity to earn money to help pay the medical bills—bills accumulated on her behalf. Influenza had struck many over the winter, but Louisa had been particularly ill with infection raging throughout her body. The doctor, meaning to be encouraging, said it was amazing she was alive and she should be glad. She was. Truly. But the illness had cost her something very precious…the ability to have children.

She vowed daily she would not let her disappointment turn into bitterness. She would enjoy what God still had in store for her. There was much to be grateful for…the ability to walk about and breathe in the spring air, the chance to continue her studies. She might have been content to keep on with her self-studies at home and not consider looking for a job, except she’d seen Mother slip cardboard into her shoes to cover the worn soles. She’d been about to confront Mother and insist she buy a new pair, but she noticed the pile of bills on the desk and knew Mother wouldn’t buy anything until they were paid.

From that day, Louisa had prayed for a way to earn some money. Unfortunately a depression held the country in its grip. Able-bodied men were out of work. Many of them rode the rails or worked in government-run relief camps. Why would anyone hire a woman with no experience and a history of ill health when there were strong, family men eager to do any available job?

Then the teacher at the local school had asked her to tutor a bedridden little girl.

This job was truly an unexpected blessing and opportunity.

Still she did not knock.

A blessing it might be—and she had no doubt it was—but she had not expected to be thrust into a position that mocked her dreams. Dreams of a child of her own, a family and home of her own. Things she could never have now.

If she stood here long enough, she’d change her mind about the opportunity and answered prayer, decide it was only cruel mockery and walk away. Lord, I believe You are in control and have opened a door for me in answer to prayer. Pushing determination into her limbs, she knocked. Her heart battered against her ribs in determined anticipation.

The door opened. Louisa stilled her face to reveal none of the surprise she felt at the sight of the man in the doorway. He was stocky yet gave the impression of strength and authority. He had a thick mop of dark blond hair. His eyes looked as if they smiled, even though his expression revealed only wariness.

She’d expected an older man. A widower, she’d been told, and for some reason she’d imagined someone like old Mr. Knowles, who had married late and lost his wife to some unnamed illness a couple of years back. Mr. Knowles was bent, his hair almost gone except for a comb-over that caught in the wind, should he remove his hat. Mr. Knowles’s face resembled a pale orange.

The man before her looked like someone used to being outdoors. The clothes he wore bore no resemblance to the broadcloth suit jacket and shiny trousers Mr. Knowles wore. No town clothes on this man, but a yoke-fronted shirt and soft denim jeans. Louisa knew he’d left his ranching life to bring his little girl home to recover from her broken leg.

The little girl was why Louisa was here. “Miss Ross, the teacher, said you need a tutor for your daughter.” Adele Ross had said Mr. Hamilton insisted he approve the tutor she recommended. “I’m here to see if I’m—” Suitable. The word stuck in her throat. She wasn’t suitable. She knew that. She had no formal education, unless one counted the few months Judd Kirk had tutored her last summer, before he married Louisa’s sister, Madge, and moved to a nearby farm.

No formal education. No experience. A history of poor health. And barren. The word thundered through her head.

However, she was not here as a marriage candidate. She simply needed the job. She had no intention of letting her emotions become involved in any way. That would only lead to deeper sorrow.

“My name is Louisa Morgan, and I think I can provide your child with adequate tutoring.”

“Miss Morgan.” His voice was deep and gravelly. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Emmet Hamilton, as I’m sure you know. Please come in and we’ll discuss the position.” He stepped aside and indicated she should enter the house.

She tucked courage under her heart, strength into her legs and crossed the threshold. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Something brushed her ankle and she pressed her fingers to her mouth, stifling a squeal of alarm. It was only a cat, and she sighed.

“Auntie May is very fond of her cats. If you have an aversion or dislike of them, best you say so right away.”

“I’m quite fond of them.” She bent and stroked the big gray cat that meowed at her feet. Suddenly cats sprang from every corner until six crowded around, demanding attention. Louisa chortled at their antics. “Well, look at you guys. Aren’t you pretty little things?”

“They’re a nuisance.”

She straightened and met his eyes, wondering if he objected to his aunt’s pets, but she could read nothing in his expression. Seems the man had learned to hide his opinions rather well. Or perhaps he found it inappropriate she should spare the animals attention. Despite the continued demands of the cats, she determinedly ignored them, hoping it would prove her seriousness.

“Have a chair.” He pointed toward a wingback chair in maroon upholstery.

She sat and glanced about. The room was crowded with furniture—three armchairs, a sagging brown sofa, at least eight little tables, their tops cluttered with knickknacks. And not only the sort of pretty decorations one would expect. Among ornaments of birds of various colors and in various poses there were also china and wooden cats, bits and pieces of hardware, a doorknob, a lantern, books, dog-eared catalogues and magazines… Would she do the same as she grew older? Fill the lonely places that called for children with pets and possessions?

“Goodness me, boy.” May Hamilton burst into a doorway on one side of the room. “Bring the miss into the kitchen where it’s warmer.”

So the cold in Louisa’s bones wasn’t just nerves.

She half rose then subsided, waiting to see what Mr. Hamilton intended to do.

He nodded. “Come along then.” His eyes said far more though. They said he found his aunt both amusing and endearing.

Louisa relaxed marginally and followed Auntie May into a warm room as crowded with furniture and odds and ends as the front room. The whole place had the appearance of many projects on the go or abandoned at some point.

Auntie May studied Louisa. “Hello, my dear.”

“Hello, Miss Hamilton.”

She snorted. “Since when does anyone call me Miss Hamilton unless they are about to present a bill? I’m Auntie May. Always have been. Always will be. Now park yourself and talk to my nephew while I pour us tea.”

Louisa “parked” on one of the mismatched chairs crowding around the table, as if Auntie May normally fed a large family instead of being on her own most of the time. Louisa had heard how she’d taken in her brother’s son after his parents’ untimely death and finished raising him. But he had left before Louisa and her family moved into the community. He’d returned a week ago with his injured daughter. Some suggested he came back so Auntie May could care for the child, but Louisa said where else would one go but back home if they needed help?

Auntie May nudged her way through a swarm of cats to set cups of tea in front of Louisa and Emmet. “I know Emmet will have hundreds of questions to ask you before he accepts you as tutor to little Ellie, but Emmet, let me say this. I’ve watched Louisa these past few years. I’ve seen her overcome challenges and emerge stronger and sweeter and kinder for them. I’m here to say you couldn’t do much better than her.”

Louisa’s face burned with embarrassment at the praise. But at least Auntie May hadn’t gone into detail about the challenges Louisa faced. Thankfully, only her family and Doc knew of her greatest challenge. One she must face with dignity and faith every day of her life.

“Thanks, Auntie May. I’ll certainly take your opinion into consideration.”

“Of course you will. Now come on, all of you.” She spoke to the cats running after her as she stepped into the porch. “I’ve got some food ready.” The meowing made conversation impossible until the door closed behind them.

Emmet laughed. “My aunt and her cats.”

Louisa, twenty years from now—the local cat lady. “She’d be lonely without her pets.” Auntie May was slightly eccentric but a good soul. There wasn’t a person she wouldn’t help, and the entire community knew it. The thought cheered Louisa marginally.

“Shall we get down to business?”

Louisa nodded, her tension returning tenfold.

“There are things I need to know about you.”

“I understand.” She’d tried to guess what questions he’d ask and how she’d answer them.

“First, what sort of training and education do you have that qualifies you to teach my daughter?”

She’d rightly guessed that would be uppermost in his mind. “I’m sure Miss Ross explained my education.”

“I’d like to hear it from your lips.”

“I do not have university education. Nor have I attended Normal school.” If finances and health allowed it, she would love to go to Normal school and train to be a teacher.

“I see. And yet Miss Ross feels you are well educated. Tell me, formal training aside, what qualifies you for this job?” His voice was low, his look insistent.

Apart from the fact that it’s the only one I’ve been offered and I need the money? “I did well in school and have continued my education since. Mostly I am self-taught, but last year my mother hired a tutor with a teaching degree and he helped me. I have a strong background in English, Greek, the arts and history.”

“I see.”

She wondered if he did. She must prove she could do this job. “I am also uniquely experienced for a situation such as your daughter’s. I spent three winters unable to attend school. I kept up my studies while at home. I learned how to work on my own and how to amuse myself while confined to bed.”

He studied her, then sighed. “Unfortunately, Ellie is used to being outdoors, riding her pony, climbing trees, running across the fields. School has always been a necessary evil in her opinion. I don’t think she is going to find contentment in quiet activities.”

“Does she have a choice?”

“Not at the moment. What else can you tell me about yourself? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty. Almost twenty-one.”

“I would have taken you for much younger.”

She squared her shoulders and tried to look wise. Realizing how silly her reaction, she had to steel herself not to chuckle.

“I assume you are only passing time until you marry.”

“You, sir, assume incorrectly.” He could not possibly know how his words hurt. 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.

An ache the size of Alberta lay tightly tied and buried in a secret corner of her heart—where she would make sure it stayed.


Chapter Two

Emmet closed the door softly behind Miss Morgan’s departure and stared at the wooden slab. She was much too young and pretty to be…what? Young and single? Not planning marriage? Most certainly a temporary condition. No doubt she waited only for the right man to show up. Not that it mattered one way or the other to him. He no longer sought after dreams such as marriage, home, success.... All that mattered now was taking care of Ellie. And he had failed badly in that area. Something he intended would not happen again. Nothing must divert him from caring for her.

“I hope you’re going to let Louisa help Ellie.”

His aunt’s voice thankfully jerked him back from the dark trail his thoughts headed down. He turned to meet her intent look.

“She’s a good person.”

“She starts tomorrow.”

“Good for you. I was afraid you’d see her pretty face and immediately count her out.”

“Now, why would you think that?” He purposely kept his voice soft. Sometimes Auntie May responded better to a gentle warning.

But not always.

“I know you, boy. You’ve been hurt too many times. And now you’ve locked your feelings in a deep vault someplace.”

How wrong she was. Not that he hadn’t tried exactly that. But he’d failed miserably. He’d never felt anything as deeply, as frighteningly real as when he’d found Ellie hurt. “My feelings are not buried. I care about Ellie. So much it hurts.”

A cat jumped to a table next to Auntie May and leaned over in an attempt to get her attention. Several things clattered to the floor.

Auntie May scooped up the cat and retrieved the fallen objects. “I don’t mean Ellie. Of course you love her. She’s your flesh and blood. But don’t you think she needs a mother? Just as you need a wife—a partner?”

“I’ve already tried that, remember? And it ended with Jane dying.” Like everyone he cared for. His parents. Even his pet dog. “Ellie is enough for me.”

“She can’t be, you know. A man needs a wife.”

He snorted. “This from a woman who never married.” He considered her. “Are you saying you regret that?”

She chortled. “I have you and Ellie. And my pets.” She scrubbed the heads of four cats sitting at her feet. Then she gave him a look full of both challenge and regret. “I loved once.”

“You did? What happened?”

She shrugged and buried her face in the fur of the gray cat in her arms. Seemed the animal was the favored of the bunch, or perhaps the most demanding, as it always ended up being held. “Didn’t work out.”

“Why?” In the dozen or so years he’d lived here, she’d never once hinted she had loved someone. Nor expressed regrets at being single. Did the man die? Seems death stole a lot of people.

“I’ve been happy. Nothing to complain about, but take it from me. Cats aren’t the same as humans.”

“No kidding.”

“They’re more loyal for the most part, however.”

Emmet considered the statement. Had Auntie May’s love interest been disloyal? The idea only reinforced his decision. “Auntie, I’m sorry your love didn’t work out. But you say you’ve been happy. That’s more than many can claim, and likely all any of us can expect. I’m content with my life. I have Ellie and you.” He bent to pat two furry heads. “And the cats.”

“I always wanted more for you. I wanted you to have the things I didn’t.”

“You’re sweet, but I had a wife. She died. But she gave me a daughter. Do I deserve anything more?”

“I don’t know what any of us deserves, but God, in His mercy, blesses us anyway. My concern is you’ve shut your heart to more. Likely wouldn’t take it, even if God sent it your way.”

Emmet didn’t want to argue with her. Didn’t have an argument to offer. He had all he wanted. Anything else would only invite more pain. Auntie May was right. He had barred his heart.

A crash rattled from the kitchen. No, it was Ellie’s room. Had she fallen? Hurt herself while he stood two rooms away making silly conversation? He would never forgive himself if—

He crossed the room in long strides and hurried to her bedside, Auntie May at his heels.

Ellie’s covers were rumpled, but other than that she looked in one piece.

“What was that racket?” he demanded.

Auntie May continued past the bed. “I’d say this would explain the noise.” She held up the shattered base of a lamp. “Now, I wonder how that ended up on the floor.”

“I bumped it,” Ellie said, “trying to get something to play with.” She put on a pretty pout. “Daddy, you said you’d come back and play with me.”

“I was on my way.” He shouldn’t have lingered talking to his aunt about things that didn’t matter.

“I’ll clean this up.” Auntie May brought a broom and dustpan from the kitchen. “You go ahead and amuse your daughter.”

“Thanks.” He caught Ellie’s eyes and tilted his head toward his aunt, silently signaling her.

Ellie smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry for breaking your lamp, Auntie May.”

“Goodness, child. Don’t you fret about it. Accidents happen.”

His daughter made him proud. “What would you like to do?”

“Ride my pony.”

He chuckled. “I guess you would, but how do you think he’d feel with a big white stiff body on his back? Wouldn’t he be frightened?”

Ellie giggled. “He’d kneel down and dump me off.”

“I expect he would.”

“Is that lady going to be my teacher?”

“Miss Morgan? She’s coming with lessons tomorrow.”

“Do I have to do schoolwork? Please don’t make me.”

He hated doing so, but surely it was the best thing for her. “It will help you pass the time and you’ll be able to keep up with your friends at school.”

“But Daddy, all my friends are where we used to live. I have no friends here.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Why did we have to move?”

“I’m sorry, Button. But I couldn’t take care of you and run the ranch.”

“Betsy could look after me.”

Anger surged up his throat at how Betsy had looked after his daughter. He’d arrived home early to find Ellie on the ground, screaming in pain with a broken leg and Betsy absent. She’d gone to a nearby homesteader’s place—a single man—and left Ellie on her own. From all accounts, not an unusual occurrence. Seemed he was the last to discover it. Shouldn’t he have been the first? “I didn’t much care for the way Betsy watched you.”

“Miss Morgan is very pretty, isn’t she?”

Far too pretty to be single. But that mattered not to him in the least. “She’s passable, I suppose.”

Auntie May, mussing about in the kitchen, snorted loudly. Emmet chose to ignore it.

“You might like her better than me.”

“Oh, Ellie.” He pulled a stool close to her side and cradled her in his arms as best as the body cast allowed. “I will never like anyone better than you. Not so long as I live.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He held her close a moment longer, then she squirmed free.

“Tell me a story.”

“I’m not much good at storytelling.”

“Tell me about Grandma and Grandpa.”

He sucked in air. All she knew was they had died when he was nine. He never talked about them. It was another life. This was his life now. “How about if I tell you about the night you were born?”

“Okay.” She sounded less than enthusiastic. Perhaps because she’d heard the story before.

So he tried to up the drama and suspense of that long-ago night when the doctor had come in the middle of an October snowstorm and the electricity had gone off. His little daughter had been delivered by flickering lamplight. And he’d fallen smash, dash in love with his tiny girl. “I loved you from your first breath, and I will love you until my last breath.” He squeezed her gently.

Ellie giggled. “Daddy, you’re silly.”

“Silly about you.”

“Then you won’t make me do schoolwork?”

Emmet laughed, pleased at her wily ways. “You’ll still have to do schoolwork.” He scooped up the gray cat and put it on the bed beside Ellie. “You play with the cat while I do some chores.” He didn’t intend to sit around and let Auntie May do everything. He’d noticed a number of neglected things he planned to take care of while he was here.

Later, after he fixed a broken step and cleaned out weeds blown around the back shed, he returned to play with Ellie.

“I wish you would stay with me all day.”

“I wish I could too, Button. But I can’t.” Having Louisa Morgan spend a few hours each day with Ellie would make it better for both him and his daughter.



Next morning, Emmet waited at the front door for Louisa to arrive. He’d had a restless night, wondering if he did right by Ellie, forcing her to take lessons while confined to bed. But Louisa said she’d spent time in a similar situation. Had she been ill? It was hard to believe. She looked in perfect health.

A battered-looking car, a Model A, wheezed to the front gate. Louisa stepped daintily from the vehicle. She moved as if she anticipated what life had to offer. Her cheeks glowed. Her skin was like pure silk, and curly dark hair framed her oval face. A dark pink dress with a flowery pattern accented her chinalike complexion and swirled about her legs as she turned. If she had any physical flaws, he did not detect them, and if she suffered any chronic illness, it didn’t reveal itself in the way she moved.

She leaned into the backseat and pulled out a satchel so heavy it required she use both hands to set it on the ground. Then she dragged an awkward board out, set it beside the satchel and bent to extract some lengths of wood.

All this to teach Ellie a little reading, writing and ’rithmetic? He stepped outside. “Can I give you a hand with those things?”

She sent him a smile full of gratitude that sneaked through his defenses and delivered a king-size wallop to a spot behind his heart.

He sank a mental fist into the area and pushed it into oblivion. “Seems you’re serious about this tutoring business.”

She laughed. Music seemed to fill the air. He glanced around to see if a door was open, if someone was playing the piano. All doors were closed. He shifted his gaze to the trees. Birds sang an accompaniment to the sound. He concluded the music came from Louisa’s laugh. “I like to do a good job.”

“I’ll take the bag. It looks heavy.” He grunted as he hoisted it from the ground. “Did you bring bricks?”

Another musical chuckle. “Just books. Some Adele—Miss Ross—loaned from the school and some I brought from home.” She tucked the longer pieces of wood under one arm and tried to tackle the bigger piece, but it was almost as big as she.

“I’ll take that. What is it?”

She turned it to show the other side. “A blackboard. My brother-in-law, Judd, made this tripod. See, the legs extend so I can write on the board then raise it so Ellie can see it from her position in bed. Isn’t that clever?”

“Oh, very.”

She chuckled. It seemed everything amused her, pleased her.

Obviously, he thought with a shade of bitterness, she had not encountered major difficulties in her life.

They struggled toward the house and dropped the items on the floor.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Thanks for helping.”

They stood in the doorway to catch their breath. “We sure need rain.” Clever conversation, Emmet mocked himself. But what did it matter? He was only being polite.

“Rain, an end to grasshoppers, better commodity prices. So many things. I know my sister thinks the government should fix the country’s problems, but I prefer to trust God. He’ll change things when He sees fit. In the meantime, I will trust Him for my daily needs.”

Her faith sounded nice. But would she trust if everything she valued was snatched away? Would she say God was treating her fairly? Would her faith falter? But he didn’t want to talk about trials and how they affected one’s faith. His own hung on by a tiny thread. “I neglected to ask about your family. Do you come from a large one? Tell me about them.”

“I have two younger sisters. Madge is a year younger. She married Judd last fall. Sally is two years younger. She lives at home as do I, with our mother.” She paused a beat then went on. “My father died four years ago. I still miss him.” Her voice thickened.

Emmet stilled an urge to squeeze her shoulder. “My parents died eighteen years ago and I still miss them.”

“Oh.” Her lips formed a little circle, and her eyes widened. “I thought it would get easier with time.”

“It gets easier. Just never goes away.”

“I remember him at the silliest times. A certain hymn will bring tears to my eyes. Or the smell of molasses cookies, which he loved. Or—” She shrugged. “I suppose it’s the same for you.”

It was a question, even though she didn’t voice it as one. But he remembered very little about his parents. “I leave it in the past.”

Her eyes widened even more. “You mean you purposely try to forget about them?” She didn’t wait for an answer but provided her own. “Although I miss my father, I wouldn’t want to forget him or all the wonderful memories I have. Nor the lessons he taught.”

“I suppose time has dulled my memories.” He didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. “You must have moved to this area after I left.”

“We bought the farm two miles from town eight years ago.”

“Ah. I left nine years ago.”

“Daddy!” Ellie’s voice wailed through the house.

Emmet chuckled. “She’s been waiting patiently all morning. Seems her patience has run out.” He again picked up the bag and board and trooped through to Ellie’s room. Several cats, seeing the unfamiliar items, hissed. Two backed into a corner and continued to hiss and arch their backs. Four skidded from the room.

Ellie laughed. “Scaredy-cats.” But her laughter died and her eyes grew wary at all the equipment Emmet and Louisa dragged in.

“Where do you want this?” Emmet indicated the blackboard.

Louisa looked around. Stood beside the bed. At the end and then on the side farthest from the door. “This would be ideal—” Except for the bookshelf, the table and the wooden chair in the room, all of which were loaded with Auntie May’s belongings.

“I’ll move this stuff out of the way.” He shoved it into the far corner, crowding the china cabinet. “Auntie May doesn’t believe in throwing things out.”

He wondered at the way the sunshine left Louisa’s face and her eyes grew stormy.

“I suppose she finds comfort in being surrounded by familiar objects.” She kept her back to him as she cleared the top of the table and lifted the bag onto it, but he thought he detected a tightness in her voice he hadn’t noticed before. He put it down to tension at getting the room organized for teaching.

He set up the tripod, adjusted the blackboard on it then stepped back. “Looks like everything is set. I’ll leave you to it.” He edged toward the door, reluctant to leave them.

“Daddy, where are you going?” Ellie reached out, as if to stop him.

“I’ll be close by. If you need me, you only have to call.” The door was inches away, but he didn’t step through.

“We’ll be fine,” Louisa murmured, then pulled a reader from the bag and directed her attention to Ellie. “Miss Ross sent the whole set of grade-two readers so you can show me which ones you can read.”

Ellie sent Emmet a look rife with pleading and accusation. He hoped she would understand he was only doing what was best for her.

But she understood the knowledge would provide poor comfort.


Chapter Three

Louisa watched Emmet’s departure, feeling the same frightening desperation she heard in Ellie’s voice. Don’t leave us. I don’t know what I’m doing. Adele had laid out the lessons and told her what to expect. “The first thing to remember is the child may be resistant to the whole idea of having to do schoolwork while in bed. Find a way to pique her interest and curiosity.”

Sounded so easy when Adele said it. But she could do this. Louisa drew a brave breath and began. “First, I’d like you to tell me what things you like. That way we can make your lessons as interesting as possible.”

Ellie gave her a stubborn stare. “Can you bring my pony so I can ride?”

Louisa laughed softly. “I think that is outside my power. What games do you like?”

“Hide-and-seek. Racing. Climbing trees. We can’t do that either, I suppose.” Ellie boldly challenged Louisa with her words and her expression.

“You’re quite right. So let’s think of something you can do and enjoy.”

The child made a most unladylike sound. “There isn’t anything to enjoy while I’m stuck in bed.”

“Do you like reading?”

“Hate it.”

“Do you like stories?” Louisa held up two storybooks she’d enjoyed when she learned to read. The books were well-worn. “These were my two favorites at your age. They’ve been read over and over by myself and my sisters.”

A flicker of interest. Good. “You’ve got sisters?”

“Two. Madge and Sally.”

The interest died. “I’ve got my daddy.” She grew fierce. “He’d be lonely without me.”

“I’m sure he would. He’s fortunate to have you.”

Ellie nodded.

“Just as you’re fortunate to have him. Now, shall I read a story to start with?” Ease into the lessons, Adele had advised.

“I guess.” Her lack of enthusiasm was slightly dampening, but Louisa chose to ignore it, opened the book and began to read. She loved the rhythm of the words, the comfort of the familiar story, but she closed the book at the end of chapter one. “We’ll read more later, but now it’s your turn to read to me.” She handed Ellie the primer Adele thought she would be reading from by now. “Can you read me the first page?”

Ellie fixed Louisa with a stubborn frown and made no move to open the book.

Louisa flipped the pages to the first story. “Start here.”

Ellie didn’t even shift her eyes to the page.

“Ellie, please read this.”

Ellie lowered her eyes, skimmed the page and closed the book. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? Is it too hard?”

“I can’t remember.”

Louisa sighed. “What do you remember?”

“Falling out of the tree and landing wrong. You should have heard my leg. It snapped. Like this.” She clicked her tongue to imitate the sound. “I tried not to cry, but my daddy was gone.”

“Gone? Where?” Was this what he meant when he said it was his fault?

“Out working. We own a ranch, you know. He was checking the cows.”

“I see.”

“So now I have to lie in bed in this horrible cast—” She banged on it, the sound a hollow thud. “I can’t do schoolwork.”

“Of course you can work. There’s nothing wrong with your brain.”

Ellie turned away and stared at the door, as if willing Emmet to appear. And he did—sauntered past as if he had other things on his mind, but Louisa knew he was checking to make sure Ellie was okay. He paused. “Things going well?”

“Daddy.” Ellie’s voice quivered in the saddest possible way.

“Things are just fine.” Louisa grabbed a bit of chalk. “Let’s do some arithmetic now. What is the answer to this?” She wrote “1 + 1=” on the blackboard.

Emmet hesitated, watched a moment longer then moved on, and the outside door whacked shut.

“Ellie?”

The child stared clear through Louisa. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t even looking.” She tapped the blackboard.

Ellie glanced at the numbers. “Can’t remember.”

Louisa crossed her arms and faced the child squarely. “I don’t think that’s the truth. I know you know the answer to one plus one.”

They did a stubborn silent duel.

“Two.” Ellie was not happy about admitting it.

“Good. Now two plus two.”

“Where’s my daddy? I want my daddy.”

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I want my daddy.”

Louisa took two steps until she stood right next to the bed. “Your daddy is working, and you must too.”

“I’m sick.”

“No, you’ve got a broken leg.”

The big gray cat Louisa had met the day before jumped on the bed and stared into Ellie’s eyes.

Louisa laughed. “The cat is telling you to do your schoolwork.”

Ellie shoved the cat to the floor. He landed with a thud and stalked away. “I want my daddy!” Ellie yelled loudly.

Emmet crashed into the house and strode into the room. “Did you call me?”

Ellie nodded, her eyes brimming with innocent tears. “I have to go to the bathroom and Miss Morgan won’t let me.”

Emmet shot Louisa a stinging look.

Louisa wisely refrained from rolling her eyes at the child’s dramatics. Instead, she quietly headed for the door. “I’ll step out while you tend to her needs.”

She came face-to-face with Auntie May. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got in. Emmet and I were fixing the shingles.” Her eyes narrowed. “She been giving you grief?” She tipped her head toward the bedroom.

Louisa opened her mouth to answer, then realized it would be inappropriate to speak of her concerns. “We’re getting a routine established.” Heaven help her if this was the regular pattern she’d be forced to follow.

“The little one is a tad spoiled, though I suppose it’s to be expected. There’s just the two of them.”

“And you.”

Auntie May snorted. “The child barely knows me. Besides, I’m just an old spinster.” She bent to pet the cats crowding around her ankles.

Louisa wanted to see her expression. She longed to see acceptance and peace in Auntie May’s eyes. Needed to know being a spinster wasn’t an unhappy fate.

Louisa straightened her spine. She would become a happy spinster doing things to help others and bringing joy to herself as well. She’d start by showing Ellie it was fun to learn. She’d help the child deal with the boredom of her body cast. It would take more wisdom than her limited experience offered, but she could ask Adele for help, and she could pray. After all, hadn’t God said in James chapter one, verse five, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” It was one of the verses Father had Louisa and her sisters memorize.

Emmet emerged from the room. “Miss Morgan, please call me if Ellie needs to go the bathroom again.” His voice and expression clearly said what his words didn’t. He judged her unkind and unreasonable to not allow his child such basics.

“Of course.” She knew full well there was no point in saying she had asked and Ellie had denied such a need. This battle was between Ellie and herself. With renewed determination, she returned to the child’s bedside.

At noon, when she was done for the day, she’d made absolutely no progress with the planned lessons. Ellie insisted she didn’t know or couldn’t remember anything and refused to do any work.

Louisa emerged from the room, knowing her hair was mussed and her face likely flushed from frustration and fighting back tears. Why had she thought she could do this job? A bubble of self-pity whispered she was totally useless, but Louisa ignored it. Fought back. She wasn’t useless. Not in every aspect. She could help this child if Ellie allowed it.

Emmet walked her out, waiting until they were out of earshot to speak his mind. “I sense you and Ellie are not getting along.”

“Miss Ross said I might encounter resistance. After all, Ellie has lost her freedom. On top of that, everything is new. Familiar things are gone.” Let him think the latter observation came from Adele as well, even though Louisa spoke her own thoughts. “Her only defense is—” she wanted to say defiance, but doubted Emmet would appreciate such a description “—is to exert what little independence she has left. I believe she will soon tire of it and find there are more enjoyable ways to pass the time.”

He looked doubtful. Louisa feared he would tell her not to return. But after several seconds’ consideration, he sighed heavily. “You’re right about one thing. She’s lost everything. She can hardly be blamed for feeling out of sorts.”

“She hasn’t lost everything, though.” Her words were quiet, coming from a place full of certainty that Emmet was more than enough for this child. “She has you.”

“She’ll always have me.”

She nodded, though words pushed at her lips, wanting to warn that he couldn’t promise such.

“As long as I live.” He clenched his fists. “And I fully intend to raise her in such a way that even if something happened to me—God forbid—she would never feel like I was gone. I’d be in her thoughts and in her actions every day.”

Peace filled Louisa. “Exactly what my father did.”

Their gazes connected, forged a single thought about fathers and daughters…how each needed the other. How sweet the relationship.

Louisa tipped her head away first. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was half a question, but he nodded.

“Until tomorrow then.”

She climbed behind the wheel of their old, unreliable automobile and turned toward home. She admired Emmet’s devotion to his child. It reminded her of the love her father had lavished on her and her sisters. Louisa smiled as fond memories of her father filled her thoughts. Ellie was a fortunate child to know such love.

Not until she reached the turnoff did she remember that the fortunate child was also a defiant, uncooperative child. Tension grabbed the muscles of her shoulders and loosened tears. She let the car coast as she struggled to gain control.

Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she looked at her home. Father had dreamed of operating a farm, growing crops and raising cows. But after he died and the Depression hit, the family had been forced to make sacrifices. They’d let most of the land go to the bank in exchange for the house, the outbuildings and a few acres. The Morgan family didn’t have much—their home, a barn, a cow, a calf and a reluctant garden—but it was so much more than many had. Over and over Louisa had observed families—beaten and broke—load their meager possessions to the sides and roof of their vehicle and drive away. Many couldn’t afford the gas for driving and left with bundles on their backs. She knew just how blessed she, her mother and her sisters were. Thank you, God, for allowing us to keep our home and stay together. Her illnesses brought further tightening of purse strings that were already pulled about as taut as they could go.

“I prayed for a job so I could help pay the bills. Lord, You provided one when there were none available. I am not going to accept defeat or complain that it’s hard.” She sent the car toward home at a faster pace.

Mother watched her approach from the window and came to the door as she stepped from the car. “You look exhausted. Come in and rest.” She twisted her apron in worried hands. “I’m afraid you will make yourself sick again.”

Louisa hugged her mother. “I’m fine. I have no intention of making myself sick. You can count on that.” Never again, if she had anything to say or do about it. She wouldn’t jeopardize her health. It was far too precious.

“How did your first day go?”

She longed to share her frustration with her mother, but she knew it would only worry her. “About as expected. We’re learning to adjust to each other.”

Sally stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyes watchful. Sally didn’t say much, but she saw a lot. Louisa could duck her head and avoid her sister’s keen gaze, or she could face her and let her try to guess what lay behind her words. She knew the latter was the easiest way to deal with Sally, so she smiled at her. “How was your day?”

“I’ve been busy. Clara and I went to the orphanage and put in a garden for them.”

“Good for you.” Ten to twelve children lived at the home on the hill. A barren spot without trees or flowers, but at least the children were housed and fed. They attended school and church and appeared happy enough.

Mother had lunch ready and they sat down to enjoy it. Afterward Mother went for a nap.

Sally waited until the bedroom door closed, then gave Louisa a demanding look. “Tell all. How did it really go?”

Louisa blew out a huge sigh. “Ellie refuses to learn.” She described the morning to her sister, including the part when Ellie made it sound as if Louisa wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom.

Sally drew back, looked shocked. “She sounds dreadful. Are you going back?”

“I’m not about to give up.”

“You’re stronger than I am. I wouldn’t be able to face such a situation.”

Louisa chuckled. “I’m not strong. You know that as well as I do.” Her thoughts darkened, but she refused to be controlled by her disappointment.

“You’re strong in a quiet way. Perhaps because you’ve had to fight to get over pneumonia and influenza.”

The darkness drew closer. The pain beckoned. But Louisa saw it for what it was—self-pity. And refused to open the door and invite it in. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She thought of Ellie. The child needed to learn how to make the best of her situation.

She’d return tomorrow and try again. She’d show Emmet she wasn’t unkind to his precious little girl.

“The kids at the orphanage are sweet. I’m going back after school is out with cookies for them. Why don’t you come with me?”

Louisa’s heart flopped in protest. See kids? The idea mocked her barrenness. “I don’t think—”

“I know what you’re going to say. You don’t want to be reminded you can’t have children of your own. But these kids will likely help you. They know how to enjoy life despite their loss and disappointment.”

Sally’s words stung. “Are you saying I don’t?”

Sally looked shocked. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only thought seeing them would cheer you up. You know…after dealing with a child who is feeling sorry for herself.”

“You might be right. I’ll go with you. I’ll even help you bake cookies.” Maybe she’d learn a thing or two about working with children who had suffered unfortunate events in their life that would help her deal with Ellie.

Somehow she had to prove to herself she could handle the job God had placed in her lap. But she wondered if He had more faith in her abilities than she did.



Over lunch Emmet listened to a litany of complaints from Ellie. Louisa was too harsh. She didn’t explain things well.

“I don’t think she likes me.”

Emmet chuckled. “What’s not to like? You’re a sweet, smart, funny little girl.” He hoped Louisa was right, and this resistance was only an adjustment period. Strange that Louisa and Ellie hadn’t struck it off right away. From his first look at Louisa, he’d thought her beautiful—not just in appearance but in a deeper way. Her beauty seemed to come from within.

He fisted the idea away. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. Only that she was kind to his daughter. He would tolerate nothing less.

He carried the lunch plates and glasses to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. A stack of dirty dishes waited to be washed. “I’ll sit with Ellie for a bit then clean up this mess.”

Auntie May shooed him away. “I do believe I can manage to wash a few dishes. Or at least let the cats lick them clean.”

“Leave them. I’ll do them later.” He did not want Ellie eating off cat-cleaned dishes.

Auntie May’s teasing chuckle made him realize he’d been tricked. “You’re joshing and I missed it.”

“You sure did. There was a time I’d have never gotten that past you.” She sobered. “I think you’ve grown far too serious.”

“Sometimes life isn’t a joking matter.” He headed for Ellie’s room.

“People should never forget to find and appreciate the good things God gives us.”

He paused to consider her. “I sometimes find it hard to believe in such.”

“And there lies your problem. Emmet, my dear boy, I’m not saying bad things don’t happen. I’m only saying you don’t need to let them steal away the good things too.”

He studied the words a moment but could find no personal truth in them. Except for one thing. “I have something I appreciate…Ellie.” He ducked into her room, a wide smile on his face as he planned to enjoy the afternoon with her. But her arms were flung above her head and she snored softly.

Suddenly the next few hours looked lonely and bleak. He returned to the kitchen.

Auntie May glanced over her shoulder where—he was relieved to see—she had a wash pan full of hot soapy water.

“She’s asleep.” He downed the lukewarm coffee Auntie May seemed to favor and yearned for a cup of strong, hot brew.

“Why don’t you have a look around town and see how the place has changed since you left? I’ll watch out for Ellie.”

“She’ll be bored.”

“Seems to me I can manage a little girl for an hour or two. Now shoo.”

So he “shooed,” right out the back door and down the lane that had once been his playground. He didn’t expect he would see any of the kids he’d grown up with. The girls would be married. And the boys who weren’t also married would be looking for work, perhaps riding the trains back and forth across the land.

He cut down a side avenue and ventured toward the main street. The buildings were familiar, even if they needed paint and repair. He stopped and stared. Mr. Smith’s fence had fallen down. Mr. Smith used to put a lot of stock in that fence. Emmet circled the corner of the lot and looked at the house. The door sagged. The windows were bare.

He saw a young man striding down the street and called out. “What happened to the Smith family?”

The man crossed to Emmet’s side. “They used to live here, didn’t they? They were gone before my time. But my wife said they lost everything in the crash and went to live with Mrs. Smith’s mother. No one has lived here since. Lots of empty houses around. Mostly abandoned by the occupants who could no longer make a living. Many have been taken by the bank because the mortgage payments were in default.”

The two had fallen into step and continued toward the heart of town. Emmet studied the businesses. “Sharp’s General Store. I remember them. There was a girl many grades below me…can’t remember her name.”

“Joanie?”

“That’s the one. I don’t suppose she’s still around? She’d be what? About nineteen or twenty.”

“She’s still around. I’m guessing you used to live here.”

Emmet explained how Auntie May was his guardian growing up. “I moved away nine years ago. Got married and have a little girl.”

“Welcome back home.”

Home. It had been once, but now? Truth be told, he didn’t know where home was anymore. Rather than try to answer the comment, he asked the man about himself. “Gather you’re a newcomer.”

“Recent. I’ve been here about a year. Judd Kirk. I married a pretty young gal from this area, and we bought a farm near town. It’s also near her home. Perhaps you know it—the Cotton place.”

“Sure, I know it. There were a couple kids in school with me. They’re gone, you say?” They’d arrived at the general store and trod indoors.

“Yup. Left the place lock, stock and barrel, which was handy for me.” Judd glanced around. “Why, here are my two sisters-in-law. Come and meet them.” Already Judd strode toward the young women.

Emmet stared. Louisa. He didn’t want to see her outside the hours she tutored Ellie. Anything more felt as if he’d crossed a mental barrier he erected around his life. But of course, in a town the size of Golden Prairie, they would naturally run into each other, unless he stayed within the boundaries of Auntie May’s house and yard. He’d done that for four days and found it stifling. Still, perhaps he could excuse himself on the pretext of urgent business. But too late. Judd led the young women toward Emmet. “My sisters-in-law, Louisa and Sally Morgan.”

“Louisa and I have already met. She’s tutoring my daughter.” Did he see the same flicker of regret over this meeting as he’d felt? The idea stung. Why should she want to avoid him? He shifted his gaze to the other girl, Sally, and greeted her.

Judd laughed. “It’s a small world. Or should I say it’s a small town.”

Louisa gave Judd a quick smile.

“Sally and I are preparing to make cookies to take to the orphanage. We needed raisins.”

“A tea party?” No mistaking the curious tone of Judd’s voice.

“Why don’t you pick up Madge and join us?” Sally offered.

This was obviously a family event. Emmet edged away.

Judd stopped him. “Why don’t you come along too?”

“I can’t.”

“Bring your daughter. She’ll enjoy it.”

Sally groaned. “Judd, the reason Louisa is tutoring his daughter is because Ellie is bedridden in a body cast. She can’t join us.”

Judd grabbed Emmet’s shoulder. “Right. That would be who I made the tripod for. Oh, man, I am so sorry. That’s tough on a little girl.”

“Thanks.”

“Good thing you have Louisa to tutor her. Couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

“Judd.” Louisa tried to stop her brother-in-law, but he ignored her.

“She knows what it’s like to have to stay in bed. I admire how she’s handled her illnesses so well. I think I’d want to moan and groan and feel sorry for myself. But not Louisa—”

Judd leaned close to Emmet and chuckled. “Don’t be fooled by her looks. She’s a fighter.”

Emmet watched the pair of sisters gather up their small parcel and head for the door.

Sally whispered something to Louisa and hung back. Louisa grabbed her arm and pushed her forward. Louisa paused before they exited and gave Judd a demanding look. “You’ll let Madge know right away so she can get ready?”

Judd laughed. “I’ll get on it immediately.” The look he gave Emmet burgeoned with amusement, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I better say goodbye or face the wrath of three sisters, because if one is offended they’re all offended. Sure you can’t come along? You know—to give me a little moral support?”

“Judd, are you coming?” Louisa’s voice was sweet and inviting, but Emmet saw the way Judd jerked to attention and guessed that beneath the gentleness lay solid, unyielding bedrock.

“Sorry, I can’t leave my daughter.” He liked the man and wished they could spend more time together. He missed company beyond Auntie May and Ellie. “Why don’t you drop by when you get a chance?”

Judd gave him a considering look. “I just might do that. Right now I better go find my wife and tell her of her sisters’ plans.” He hurried after Sally and Louisa.

The store felt empty when the trio left. Emmet gave himself a mental kick. He was used to being alone, out in the open, riding the range, working with cows. Company—and companionship—was sporadic and fleeting. So why should it bother him to be left behind? He must be getting befuddled.

He crossed to the candy selection, chose a red-and-white peppermint stick, paid for it and left the store. Ellie would be awake soon, and the candy would brighten her afternoon.

But later, as he sat beside his daughter, watching her suck the peppermint stick, the rest of the day stretched before him, as endless as the vast horizon. The only break in sight was Louisa’s return in the morning.

For Ellie’s sake only. The hours must be even longer for her.


Chapter Four

Louisa stopped at the last corner before the Hamilton home. She wasn’t eager to start the session with Ellie.

Rather than dwell on her doubts and fears, she thought of the few hours she and her sisters had spent at the orphanage. Louisa had dreaded the event but was determined not to let her sisters know. However, from the first rowdy greeting to the last goodbye, she’d enjoyed every minute. The children were happy to see them. Several acted as if they especially liked Louisa, which was heartwarming. One of the older girls brought her some drawings she’d done and listened eagerly as Louisa showed her how to add shading and correct perspective to her rather appealing work. Another child, a girl close to Ellie’s age, brought a book and begged Louisa to read it to her.

“What grade are you in, Leila?” she’d asked.

“Grade one. I’m six.”

Louisa asked her to read aloud from her reader. The child read eagerly and clearly. Ellie was in second grade and should read even better.

Perhaps today, Louisa would discover Ellie’s reading level. She turned the corner and headed toward the house. At the front gate, she parked, gathered up determination and courage and shoved them into place, then stepped forth to face the battle. God, guide me, bless me with Your wisdom. She took the awkward parcel from the backseat.

Emmet opened the door as she approached. He sent a questioning look at the bundle in her arms but didn’t ask about it.

At the way he seemed to assess her, Louisa’s cheeks burned. Judd should not have told him about Louisa’s illnesses. Three bouts of pneumonia. Influenza that hit her so hard. She’d asked Madge to remind him no one outside the family must hear of Louisa’s barrenness. She didn’t want to be the recipient of pitying looks.

“Good morning.” She kept her voice cool. Professional. She wasn’t a teacher, but she would act like one. Emmet was a parent of a student. Nothing more. “How is Ellie this morning?”

“Okay. And you?”

She faltered the slightest. Why did he ask? Did he think she might get ill at the least little thing? She tilted her chin. She had no intention of getting ill. “I’m fine, thank you. Eager to start my day.” Eager might be a slight exaggeration. But she would show no fear, no regret, no desperation. God was at her side. The Lord is my shepherd. He leadeth me beside still waters. Would the waters be still or troubled today?

Emmet kept pace at her side as she crossed the front room. “I’m glad you understand that Ellie is finding it difficult to adjust to her situation. It’s a relief to know you’ll be patient with her.”

Did she detect a warning in his voice? She stopped and faced him. “Mr. Hamilton—”

“Please, call me Emmet.”

Did teachers call parents by their first name? Would doing so cross a line she didn’t wish to cross? She needed to keep things impersonal between them. Not one step further than her feelings had already transgressed.

“As you please. I am being paid to teach your child.” The school board had hired her with specific expectations…keep the child up to speed with her classmates. Only, her position depended as much on Emmet’s approval as the school board’s expectations. Emmet had the right to say yes or no to her being Ellie’s tutor. “I’ll do my best to help her keep up with her class work.”

“I care less about Ellie’s schoolwork than about her happiness.”

What more could anyone ask of a parent? But life wasn’t always that simple. “I hope I can achieve the one without sacrificing the other.” But it would take Ellie’s cooperation. Something she suspected that would not come without a battle.

“That’s all I ask.”

Louisa stepped into Ellie’s room and read instant defiance in the child’s eyes. She was trapped between what Emmet believed was possible and what Ellie clearly would not allow—Louisa teaching her.

She considered putting aside the role of teacher and simply amusing the child, but her agreement with the board was quite specific and she couldn’t, in good conscience, pretend she fulfilled the terms without doing so. If she couldn’t teach Ellie she must quit. And that was something she would not do. Not with those medical bills stacked up on Mother’s desk.

Adele had given her more advice. “Make it clear that there is a certain amount of work to be done each day. Be matter-of-fact about it. Then do it.”

“But what if she doesn’t cooperate?”

“That’s where discipline comes in. You might try providing rewards, incentives, if you like.”

Louisa crossed to the little table where she arranged her lesson plans that she and Adele had drawn up together, the books she intended to use and the odd-shaped parcel.

“What’s that?”

“It’s for you. You can have it when you complete today’s lesson.” She picked up the chalk and wrote on the blackboard: “Reading, Arithmetic and History.” “Three subjects. We won’t spend long on each, but they all have an assignment that must be completed.”

Ellie eyed the package, her curiosity obvious.

Good. Louisa had already tried reading and arithmetic without success, so she went for history. “Grade twos are studying the history of Alberta. Today we are going to talk about the establishment of the North-West Mounted Police.” She loved the drama of the march west and had a picture book illustrating it. She began with explaining the need for a police force to settle the troubles in the West. She showed a picture of the colorful troop ready to set out—noble and hopeful, unaware of the challenges they would face.

But Ellie stared at the present as Louisa continued reading. If Ellie cared to look at the pictures, they were there before her. Adele had assured Louisa that Ellie would soon be drawn into the lessons.

Louisa came to the end of what she planned to read for the day.

“Now I want you to choose a project. You can either draw a picture about the march west or write a story. You can pretend to be one of the young police officers or—”

“What is that?” Her gaze hadn’t shifted from the parcel.

“If you want to open it, you have to do your lessons.” She placed a bed tray before Ellie, tilted so the child could write, and put a sheet of paper on it. “Do you wish to draw a picture or write a story?”

“Neither.” The girl certainly knew how to put on a pout. “Daddy won’t like that you’re teasing me. He lets me have anything I want.”

“That makes for mighty poor character.” Adele had prepared a list of questions should Ellie balk at working on her own initiative. “Here are questions about the North-West Mounted Police. You can do them.” There were five very simple questions.

“I don’t want to.”

At least she wasn’t insisting she didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Louisa wondered if this was progress. “If you want to see what’s in the parcel, you must first do your work.”

“No.” Ellie swept the tray to the floor with a clattering racket. “Why are you being so mean to me? I don’t have a mother, you know.”

“Well, I don’t have a father.”

“You’re a grown-up. You don’t need a father.”

“Even grown-ups need a father now and then.” She picked up the tray and rescued the paper and pencil, replaced them on the bed and tapped the page. “Please answer these questions.”

“I don’t want to, and I generally do as I please.”

Louisa sighed. “There’s a name for children like that.”

Ellie scowled. “What?”

Should she tell her? “Spoiled.”

Ellie screeched and tried to push the tray off the bed again. But Louisa held it firmly in place. “Let’s get this done so we can move on. We still have reading and arithmetic to do this morning.”

Ellie screamed louder.

Emmet strode into the room. “What’s going on here?”

Ellie sobbed and reached for Emmet. “She’s being mean to me.”

Emmet wrapped his arms about the child’s trembling shoulders. “Hush now. You’re okay. Daddy’s here.” His voice was warm and gentle, but the look he gave Louisa accused her of senseless cruelty.

Louisa sighed. She couldn’t fight them both. But she wasn’t about to admit defeat. She stiffened her spine and thought about how to deal with this.

Ellie snuggled into her father’s shoulder and lifted her eyes to Louisa. There was no mistaking the glint of triumph.

Emmet extracted himself from his daughter’s arms and faced Louisa, but she spoke before he could.

“We need to talk. I’ll wait for you in the front room.” Her stride was far steadier than her insides. She crossed the kitchen. Auntie May sat at the table with four cats on her lap and one draped over her shoulders.

“You’re never beat until you quit,” she murmured.

Louisa flashed a trembling smile. Exactly the words she needed to hear. She wasn’t about to quit. Nor admit defeat.

Emmet backed out of Ellie’s room, assuring his daughter he would be back in a few minutes, then he gave Louisa a curt nod and strode into the front room.

Louisa followed, and although she felt like being meek and apologetic, she kept her head high and her step firm.

“Miss Morgan, I fear you are most unsuited for this job.” His eyes flashed with anger.

An answering flash burned her eyes. “I consider Miss Ross to be a fine teacher, with all the skill that experience and study can give.”

“We aren’t talking about Miss Ross.”

“Indeed, we are. She recommended me for this job. She supervises the lessons. She also gives advice as to how to deal with a child who doesn’t welcome having to keep up with her studies. I suggest if you have a problem with my methods, you consult her.”

He looked askance. “I have no quarrel with Miss Ross. I’m sure she’s a fine teacher.”

“One of the best. We are fortunate to have her.”

“That might well be the case, but she isn’t the one in Ellie’s room making her cry.”

Louisa refrained from pointing out the tears were for Emmet’s benefit to elicit his sympathy. And they worked very well. “Before you decide to dismiss me, you should consider I am the only one available to do this job, unless you intend to scoop up one of those hobos down by the tracks.”

Emmet looked as if she’d suggested dipping his child in mud.

“I thought not. Then why don’t we consult Miss Ross and get her help in sorting this out?”

“Sounds like a fine idea. After school today?”

“She’s already expecting me.” They had arranged to meet almost every day to discuss lessons. “I don’t believe there is any point in me trying to continue this morning.”

Louisa returned to the bedroom and gathered her things—including the wrapped gift—then paused to say goodbye to Ellie, not caring at all at the pleased look on the child’s face. This wasn’t over yet.

She could only hope Emmet would realize that if he let Ellie win this battle, she would be the loser, not the victor.



Later that afternoon, Louisa waited outside the classroom for Emmet. She’d arrived a few minutes before, but it didn’t seem fair to go in without him. He might wonder if she was seeking to get Adele on her side. It had been tempting to do so, but in the intervening hours since she’d marched out of the Hamilton house, her resolve had grown. She would not fail.

Emmet approached, his strides firm, his jaw squared even more than she’d noticed before. He was a man determined to do what was best for his daughter.

Louisa mentally drew herself to rigid attention, as if readying for duel. How silly. A giggle tickled the back of her throat, but she wisely restrained it. They weren’t adversaries. They both wanted the same thing—what was best for Ellie. Only problem was they obviously considered that to be two different things.

Her amusement died as quickly as it had come, and the prayer she had whispered all afternoon filled her thoughts. Lord, show us a way of compromise that will enable me to teach Ellie.

“I’m ready.” Emmet paused at her side and indicated she should lead the way.

She proceeded down the hall to the room where Adele waited for her. They passed a closed door. “Before the Depression and drought drove so many people from the land, this room held the older grades. Now even the desks in one room aren’t full, and there are no students above grade five.” Why did she explain this to Emmet? He had attended classes here when he was younger, when both rooms held children. “I feel badly that many children will be deprived of an education because of their family circumstances.” She had never before felt the need to fill silences with idle chatter.

“You hold learning in high regard, don’t you?”

She cast a sideways glance at him. Was he mocking her? No, he looked serious. “I believe there is much value in learning.”

“Reading, writing and arithmetic are handy skills.”

“So are art, music, languages, history and so much more. The more we know about our world, the better equipped we are to live successfully in it. But learning also teaches us to think past the obvious, past our own experiences.”

He chuckled softly, puckering the edges of her resistance to him. “I always thought experience was the best teacher.”

“It is sometimes a cruel teacher.”

They considered each other. She saw in his eyes a dark familiarity with the sort of pain she meant, and she understood something as clearly as if he had written it in bold letters across his forehead. He’d lost much and now protected Ellie, perhaps even indulged her, because she was all he had left, and he feared losing her.

Instinctively she touched 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 she did her work.” She waved her hands in frustration. “I value learning. I know what it’s like to fall behind. I want to help Ellie, but she won’t let me.” She hated to admit failure, but she couldn’t continue to insist on being Ellie’s tutor when Ellie resisted her. “Perhaps you’re right. Ellie is falling behind because I can’t reach her.”

Adele held her palms toward them. “Let’s not be hasty. Frankly, not only is Louisa the best person for this job, but she’s the only person remotely qualified. We’d have to advertise across the province to find someone else, and let’s be reasonable. How many applicants would we get for a two-month job that’s only four hours a day?”

“Probably lots of unemployed teachers looking for work,” Emmet muttered.

“I expect that’s so. But I would think you’d want references. All that takes time.” Adele let her comments hang in the air. “Emmet, what do you want for Ellie?”

“That’s easy. I want her to be happy.”

“Right. Is she happy with things the way they are?”

“I suppose not. She’s restless, wishing she didn’t have to be confined to bed in a body cast.”

“So perhaps school lessons might prove a welcome distraction?”

“I had hoped so.”

“Good.” She turned to Louisa. “What do you want here?”

“To do the job I was hired to do. To help Ellie keep up.”

“Why?”

Adele’s question opened a whole vista of truth to Louisa. It was more than the money. She’d always felt a spectator on life. Never very useful. This was her chance to prove to her mother and sisters…and herself…that she could do something, make a difference. “I believe I can do this. I can help Ellie. I want to because I know how difficult it is to fall behind your classmates, to struggle to catch up and keep up. And because I firmly believe learning can and should be fun.”

Adele’s eyes gleamed with pleasure at Louisa’s confession. “Mr. Hamilton, do you have any objections to Louisa’s goals for your daughter?”

Louisa and Emmet studied each other. Wary adversaries? Or something more? Something that went beyond teaching, beyond Ellie’s needs. She sensed in him a deep hurt that echoed her own. Of course he had pain—he’d lost his wife, and before that his parents, and now his child was injured. Perhaps by helping Ellie, she could help him. Ease some of his concerns. She’d told God she would serve Him in whatever job He provided. This was a job. Nothing more.

But she could not deny she hadn’t expected a job to dig deep into her heart and open up longings she knew she must deny. Somewhere in the past two days, despite Ellie’s cantankerous ways, Louisa had crossed a line. She’d begun to care about the Hamiltons. She wanted to help Ellie because she cared. She wanted to help Ellie because it mattered to her that Emmet, although he loved his daughter deeply, was allowing her to rule his life.

Adele broke into her thoughts, still addressing Emmet. “Do these goals contradict yours in any way?”

“I suppose not.” His gaze held Louisa’s, searching for what, she did not know. But she let him probe deep past the surface of their words and association until she felt as if his thoughts had reached deep into hers, found an anchor pin and secured a hook to it.

“Perhaps there is another way to address the problem. A compromise?”

Louisa forced her gaze toward Adele. Would it include her keeping the job? She darted a glance at Emmet. Did he look even vaguely interested?

He caught her looking and shrugged. “What do we have to lose?”

She turned back to Adele. “What do you suggest?”

“I think you two should become partners in this venture.”

“Partners?” Louisa and Emmet echoed the word in unison. How could they possibly work together? Even being here and discussing Ellie’s need had opened a window in Louisa’s heart, revealed a hunger she must deny. She looked it squarely in the face. Yes, she longed to earn the love of a man such as Emmet—strong, committed, loving—but her barrenness made it impossible. Even if he knew…even if he said it didn’t matter. It would be unfair to burden a man with the same limitations she must accept.

Her best plan would be to avoid him as much as possible. Whatever Adele meant by partnership, Louisa hoped it meant a simple shake of hands in shared concern.

Adele took their silence for agreement. “I think Ellie is feeling you two are in opposition. Either it threatens her, or she’s taking advantage of it. Perhaps even both. I think by presenting a unified front, she will realize she has no alternative but to do the assigned work. She’ll soon learn that lesson time can be fun and help her pass the long days. I have laid out the lesson plans and will continue to do so. I suggest the two of you work out how to deliver them. You’re welcome to use any of the material I have.” She waved a hand to indicate the books and objects in the shelves around the room.

Work together. Plan together. Louisa choked back a protest. How was she to stay professional when every time she turned around, she encountered feelings that were decidedly not professional? And now to consider spending more time in his presence…how was she ever going to keep her feelings locked away?


Chapter Five

Emmet pried himself from the too-small desk and followed Louisa out of the classroom. With a murmured goodbye and thank-you to Miss Ross, he closed the door and sucked air into lungs too stunned this past half hour to function properly.

Partners? Work together? A unified front? Shoot. He didn’t want to be united with Louisa on anything. Just sitting next to her in the classroom, feeling her fragile resistance—he was wrong on that score too. She was about as fragile as the first spring crocus that fought its way up through the snow and waved its head cheerfully through the winds and storms of the season. What had possessed him to agree?

One thing only. And it was all that mattered. It was best for Ellie.

Louisa too, appeared to need time to pull herself together after Miss Ross’s surprise suggestion.

He’d been awed by Louisa’s passion that Ellie keep up with her classmates. And more than a little moved by it. If he were honest, he’d felt just a tiny bit guilty that he was concerned solely with her happiness. For a fleeting moment, it seemed almost irresponsible.

But he had his head back where it belonged after the brief period of confusion. Squarely on his shoulders. He would not let anything Louisa said or did confound him again. “Looks like we’re stuck working together.” He excused the roughness of his words and his voice on the need to keep boundaries firmly in place. He wanted only one thing from Louisa—help teaching Ellie, because he now realized how important it was for her to keep up with her studies. “So let’s figure out a way to make this work.” He headed for the outside door, Louisa at his side.

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“I suppose we need to plan our approach, as Miss Ross suggested.” But when and where? “I don’t like leaving Auntie May to watch Ellie too long.” Ellie clearly didn’t appreciate it either, but he refrained from saying so, still feeling as if he was somehow lax in wanting to keep her happy. “It’s too big a chore. Besides, Auntie May has enough to do.”

“What with feeding her cats and all.” Her dry tone informed him that Louisa teased, and he chuckled. His tension dissipated in his amusement.

“I fear she will fall over one of them and injure herself.” He’d meant to be teasing too, but realized it was a deep-seated worry. He didn’t care to lose any more of his family due to an accident.

“I don’t think you need to fear for her safety. She seems to know how to avoid them when she’s walking. You know, I’ve always admired how sure-footed she was.”

“Comes from dancing around cats. Keeps her nimble.” He did a little side jump to illustrate, bringing a merry laugh to Louisa’s lips. He tucked a smile into the corner of his mind, pleased to have amused her.

Shoot. How did he get so far off track? If this was a sample of how it would be to work with her, it did not bode well for keeping it businesslike. And yet, somehow, he couldn’t honestly object. But back to the task at hand. “If we wait until after Ellie goes to sleep…” Then what? Auntie May liked to curl up with her cats and a book in the evening. He didn’t want to take advantage of his aunt by asking that she be alert to Ellie’s call.

“I could come back into town later. I’m sure it won’t take long to deal with this.”

In fact, they might be able to stand on the step and sort it out in a matter of minutes before she left. Yet somehow he didn’t suggest it. “If you don’t mind. That way I could be available without expecting Auntie May to cover for me.”

“I don’t mind. Like I say, I’m sure it will only be a short while. Then I can visit a friend.”

“Good.” They stood before her battered car. “I’ll see you later then.” He planted his hat on his head, nodded goodbye and strolled away. Not until he heard her car start and breathed in the gas fumes and dust of her departure did he wonder if spending more time with Louisa was a wise idea. But it was too late to change his mind, and because it was for Ellie he had no intention of doing so.



Emmet explained to Auntie May that Louisa would be coming because they were going to work on Ellie’s lessons together.

“Excellent idea, my boy. You’ll soon discover what a fine woman she is. You know, you could do worse than think about asking her—”

He cut her off right there, knowing she was about to suggest he ask Louisa out. “I have no interest in such things. Not now. Not ever.”

She looked at him, her face awash with concern. “Emmet, you are a young man. You can’t carry your hurt like a shield all your life.”

He intended to do exactly that, though it was caution he carried, not hurt. He was long past hurt. “My life is busy enough with the ranch and a child to raise.”

“Troubles shared are troubles halved.”

“We’ll use the front room so as not to disturb Ellie, if that’s okay with you.”

She studied him, letting him know she understood he ignored her suggestion of sharing troubles. “I prefer the rocking chair in the kitchen, as you are well aware. Does Ellie know about your new plan?”

Ellie slept in the next room, exhausted by another crying spell. She missed her pony. Her friends. Even Betsy. “I haven’t said anything.” Seems the least little thing set her into a bout of tears. Hopefully she wasn’t going to end up like her mother. Jane had resorted to tears to get her own way so often that Emmet had learned to ignore them. Or had tried to, but they never failed to make him feel guilty.

“It’s something Louisa and I will plan together.”

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

“I expect that is her now.”

“’Spect so. You better let her in. And don’t worry about me. The cats and I will be quite happy in the kitchen.” She sat in a rocking chair so well used that the rockers had a ridge where she changed direction. “Run along now.” She shooed him away.

He crossed the room and opened the door. The sun had settled toward the horizon and slanted rays into his eyes, so he didn’t see her face clearly. For some unfathomable reason, that bothered him. He wanted to see her expression, know what she really thought about this arrangement. Perhaps if he did, he could understand how he felt. Because this did not feel like business. It felt like a social call. He had struggled the past hour to try to drive that thought away, but it refused to leave.

“Come in. Have a seat.” He waved toward a little table he’d cleared off and against which he had shoved two chairs, assuming she would want to show him material.

“Thanks.” She sat and waited for him to sit opposite her, then she opened a notebook. “These are the lesson plans Adele helped me prepare.” She pointed to the outlined notes. “As you can see, we aren’t aiming to do more than basics. Her assignments have also been adjusted so she can do them without too much effort. We realize it’s difficult for her to do much while flat on her back.”

He glanced over the material. “These seem fairly straightforward.”

“You’re still thinking I’m the problem here.” She sucked in air. “You might be right. I get the feeling she resents my presence. Perhaps by having you in the room and presenting part of the lesson, she can see I only want to help her.”

“I agreed to do so. I’m just uncertain of my role. What do you want me to do?”

“I guess it depends on what you want.”

“What I want has nothing to do with lessons. I want her to not be injured in the first place. I want—” I want her mother to still be alive. I want my parents to be alive.

“I’m sorry. It can’t be easy raising a child on your own.”

“It has its challenges for sure, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My only regret is not having more children.” He leaned forward. “I envy you your sisters. I longed for brothers or sisters when I was growing up. And when I married, I vowed I would not have an only child. But life did not follow my plan.”





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