The Cowboy Father. Linda Ford
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“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