In His Eyes. Gail Martin Gaymer
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She turned away from the sadness in his eyes. “I have no choice unless you know of a place for me to stay.”
“Nothing on the island, but if you’re not comfortable staying at the cottage, Aunt Phyllis invited you there. She has plenty of room and would love the company.”
Why hadn’t she thought of that? “That would work fine, Connor. Thanks. You know me and my upbringing.” Guilt washed over her, thinking back, but she didn’t want to deal with those memories now.
“I understand. I always have, Ellene.”
“I know.” She couldn’t look at him.
“I have a big plate of goulash for you and a salad. You must be starving.”
She nodded, trying to control the sensations that coiled around her heart. She wished he weren’t so thoughtful. She could detest him better that way.
“Caitlin will be thrilled you’re back. She went into pout mode after you left.” He shook his head. “Everything that smacks of abandonment seems to tear her apart.”
“Abandonment? You mean because I left?”
His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it was your fault. It’s Caitlin. She opened up to you. She seemed more like herself than she has in days, but when she takes a chance and gets caught up in a relationship, the poor kid can’t handle people saying goodbye.”
His comment struck her like a rock. “Her mother’s death. That makes sense.”
“Yes, and I withdrew for a while. I tried not to, but I felt abandoned, too. What did I know about raising a four-year-old by myself? I had to cope with finding sitters and worrying about her care and needs. I felt guilty when I had to go somewhere if she couldn’t go along. My life changed in the blink of an eye. I felt helpless and useless.”
Ellene’s chest tightened. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“It felt like punishment.” He lifted his hand as if to stop her thoughts. “Not having to raise Caitlin alone, but having Melissa die so young. I wasn’t the best husband in the world, Ellene. I—”
He stopped. She waited, her questions hanging on the threads of his words, but they seemed too personal to ask when he was apparently still grieving.
“Should we go back?” she asked.
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, smiling as if he’d taken control of his emotion. “You go ahead, and I’ll follow you.”
He opened the door as she turned the key in the ignition, but the heater’s warmth couldn’t hold back the pesky cold.
“Drive carefully,” he said, leaning back into the car. “Thanks for listening.” He closed the door and hurried toward his car.
Thanks for listening. The poignant comment swelled in her chest like yeast in bread dough. Hearing his story, Ellene realized Connor had paid the price for any wrongdoing he’d done, if he’d done anything so wrong in the first place. Sorrow overwhelmed her. Lord, help me to mend my ways and give me a kind heart toward him.
Chapter Five
When a thread of sunlight slipped beneath the window shade, Connor rolled over and covered his eyes from the morning. Yet today offered him a different feeling, a new hope. He eased upward and inched open his eyes to look at the clock sitting on the nightstand. Though it was too early to get up, he longed to slip into jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt and run next door to see Ellene—to assure himself she was still there, that she hadn’t run off in the night or been only a hope-filled dream.
Though Ellene had refused the invitation to stay in his cottage, she’d accepted his aunt’s offer. Knowing his aunt, she’d probably talked Ellene to sleep, but he felt grateful she’d given her a bed and, in the scheme of things, had given Connor another chance to make amends for the past. Now if he could garner the courage to tell her the truth.
When Ellene had agreed to work with him on the cottage renovations, an amazing opportunity had arisen, and Connor had prayed that God give him a way to spend some quality time with her. He hadn’t considered an ice jam, but if that had been God’s means of answering his prayer, Connor whispered a thank-you.
He rose on one elbow and ran his other hand through his hair, wondering if Ellene might soften her attitude. Last night when they’d returned from the ferry landing, she’d eaten a little but left for Aunt Phyllis’s as fast as she could. He knew she wanted to avoid him, but Connor had other plans.
Connor gave up any further plans to sleep and pushed his hand against the mattress to hoist himself to a sitting position. He went to the window, lifted the shade and savored the morning. The new snow glinted from the ground, and across the channel the ice looked unyielding.
He bowed his head, praying that the ferry didn’t run today, either. Then feeling guilty, Connor dressed quickly and crept into the kitchen so as not to wake Caitlin.
Only a couple eggs were in the refrigerator. With the ferry service down, he guessed the store in town would be sold out of eggs by the time he reached it. He found some bacon, but bacon and what? He grinned, remembering he’d recently purchased a box of pancake mix. That could last them a few days, if need be.
After putting on the coffee, Connor returned to his room, showered and dressed in fresh clothes, then crept upstairs to Caitlin’s room and peeked inside. She lay curled into a ball, her tawny hair splayed across the pillow. Often he had assailed God for forcing him to be a single parent, but as always, seeing his daughter’s flushed cheeks, her eyes closed and still, he gave thanks for the blessing.
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