What The Doctor Ordered. Cheryl Wolverton
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Morgan proceeded to drop onto the floor next to the blocks and build an entire city with her for the next fifteen minutes.
Betty came in and grinned. “You’re so good with kids. Lindsay has taken a liking to you. Now, Rachel, why don’t you pour the tea.”
“Okay, Mom.” Rachel poured three cups, silently frustrated with her mother that she insisted on keeping this man around. She didn’t know him, and he was playing with her daughter.
“I think little one here is getting tired,” Morgan whispered.
Rachel glanced over and flushed anew. Lindsay had crawled onto him and was sprawled out, her eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” Rachel began.
“Don’t be.” Morgan’s eyes met hers. The deep tones of his voice went right through her. “I can’t tell you when I’ve had this much fun. It’s been a long time.”
Rachel shifted, trying not to notice how good he looked holding her daughter. She stood and went over to him. “I should get her to bed.”
Gently, she slipped her hands under her daughter and lifted the girl to her shoulder. Lindsay mumbled something and zonked right back out.
Morgan stood. “As much as I’d like tea, Betty, I really have to be up early. I should be going, too.”
“Of course, Morgan. Let me take her, Rachel, and you walk our guest to the door.”
Sharply, Rachel looked at her mother. Matchmaking?
She had to wonder. This man was attractive. Her mother didn’t like it that she was alone with a child to raise. Rachel would have to talk to her about this later. “Very well.” Handing her child to her mother, Rachel turned and offered Morgan a smile.
He wasn’t bad. She just wasn’t used to sharing her child with anyone. Not after everything that had happened. She was scared. Things happened. She didn’t want to lose Lindsay or hear any more false reports, on her, or true reports for that matter. She didn’t want her daughter exposed to any more pain or lies, or to get her hopes up only to have them dashed. She wanted to protect her daughter from the world. And this man was part of that world.
Still, he had been wonderful with Lindsay. If only Lindsay’s father had been like that. “It was nice meeting you, Morgan.”
Morgan headed toward the door, his long-legged stride taking him gracefully across the room. “I really enjoyed tonight.” He pulled open the door and paused, then turned and pierced her with his gaze. “I enjoyed it a lot, Rachel.”
Rachel’s mouth went dry. “I…yes,” she stuttered, and nodded.
“Maybe we’ll see each other in church.”
The mood was shattered that easily. “I’m not sure. It takes time to get Lindsay ready, and we like to sleep in on Sunday…”
“Oh. I had thought you’d want to take her simply for the interaction with the other children.”
“She gets interaction,” Rachel argued.
“Ah,” Morgan said softly, a smile touching his lips. “But does she get to learn the series of songs the teacher is teaching the children? All of them in sign language?”
“Really?” Rachel asked, excitement burgeoning to life.
Morgan shrugged. “She majored in languages and ministers to the deaf on Saturdays. I thought Lindsay would probably love that.”
“She probably would.”
Rachel suddenly realized she’d been tricked. Scowling at Morgan, she said, “I only want what’s best for my daughter. So if you do see me there, it’s because of her.”
Morgan’s smile turned tender. “I understand, Rachel.” He reached out and took her hand, but instead of shaking it, to her utter disbelief, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it lightly. His gaze lifted to hers. “I really do.” She stared, watching him walk down the stairs and to his car. And for some reason, she really believed that he did understand. She wasn’t sure why, but it was in his eyes. The truth. He really did know what she was going through.
Gripping the door, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, God really did take a personal interest, after all.
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