“How old are you, Evie?” Jill spoke against the girl’s warm cheek, trying to take her mind off whatever had upset her.
No response.
Jill tried again. “What grade are you in?”
Still nothing.
“She doesn’t speak. Not since her mother was killed last year during an armed robbery,” Brent whispered reluctantly.
Oh, dear. It seemed Evie’s problem was more serious than Jill had first thought. And Jill couldn’t suppress a desire to help. This was a unique situation she found herself in. Without hearing any more details, she would have diagnosed Evie with post-traumatic stress disorder. Of course, Jill wasn’t a medical professional, but she was trained in how to help kids cope with difficult problems in their lives. Even if that didn’t translate to her personal life. With her skill set, she should at least be able to manage her own woes. But she hadn’t been able to. At least, not yet.
“Did you see what happened to your mom?” Jill whispered to Evie.
In response, the child buried her face deeper against Jill’s shoulder. That was answer enough. Jill had no doubt Evie was suffering from PTSD, brought on by witnessing her mother’s violent death. Something no child should ever see. No doubt the trauma had caused Evie’s selective mutism, too. The girl had been literally scared silent.
It was bad enough for a kid to lose her mom, but to actually witness her mother’s death made it even worse.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. We can sit here for as long as you like,” Jill told the girl.
Evie’s hold on Jill’s neck relaxed just a bit.
“You seem good with kids,” Brent said.
She nodded. “I have a master’s degree in special education and teach for the Boise School District.”
His mouth went slack. “Evie isn’t a special-ed kid. She’s very intelligent. She just saw something really bad.”
He sounded defensive and Jill figured he’d dealt with people thinking Evie was mentally challenged because she wouldn’t speak. Because of his protectiveness toward his daughter, Jill liked him immediately.
“I’m sure she’s very smart. She’s just experienced a terrible trauma, which is why she’s chosen to be silent.” Jill hugged the girl closer, wishing she could somehow shield Evie from being hurt again.
Life could be so unkind.
“Most people don’t understand. They think Evie should just get over it and start talking again,” Brent said.
Jill shrugged. “Well, I understand. Many disabled people are very bright. They simply have a unique issue they have to work through. And sometimes that takes a very long time. But most people are impatient creatures. They want answers now and aren’t always willing to work for it.”
His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked at her with awe. “You really do understand, don’t you?”
Jill smiled, thinking it all sounded so easy when she talked about it like this. But real life was actually a very messy affair. Not so easy when you had to wade through the muck and figure things out on your own. If God hadn’t abandoned her after the divorce, she might not feel so alone now. But He had and she did.
“Are you from around here?” he asked.
“Yes, I grew up here and still consider it home. My family lives in town. Since the school year ended yesterday in Boise, and I’m off for the summer, I decided to come back for a visit.”
“Ah.”
For another five minutes, she sat there with Evie’s very tall, muscular father hovering over her. She took a moment to study him without appearing to do so. Long legs sheathed in faded blue jeans and worn cowboy boots. He had startling blue eyes and saber-sharp cheekbones. Highly attractive. In his eyes, she saw his concern and anxiety—and all the love he had for his daughter. He was the kind of guy that made her think maybe love hadn’t passed her by after all. That maybe she should reconsider dating and give love one more chance.
No! She mentally shook her head, telling herself she wasn’t interested. Not in any man. Not ever again. Her heart couldn’t take it.
“Evie, can you be really brave and let go of me now?” Jill finally asked the girl.
Evie drew back and gazed at her. She had a cute button nose and blue, translucent eyes identical to her father’s.
“Do you feel better?” Jill asked her.
Evie nodded, but she didn’t speak. She simply looked deep into Jill’s eyes, as though peering into her soul. Jill felt as though this innocent child were assessing each and every one of her flaws and determining if she was worthy of her trust.
“Do you think you can go with your father now?” Jill said.
Another nod. The girl slid off Jill’s lap and reached for her daddy’s hand. Brent pulled Evie into his arms, kissing her face several times, brushing the long, blond hair back from her cheeks as he whispered a contrite apology. And once again, his actions toward his daughter made Jill like this man on the spot.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have made you go inside the store with me,” he whispered.
Jill watched the pair closely, feeling out of place as she witnessed this poignant moment between father and daughter. Evie clung to her dad and nodded her forgiveness. The two obviously had a close relationship.
Jill stood, stretching her numb legs and brushing a streak of dirt off her blue jeans.
“Sorry to trouble you, Jill. Thanks again.” Brent held out his hand.
Jill shook it, the warmth of his fingers sending an electric pulse up her arm. She quickly let go, her stomach churning. “Anytime.”
She stood back as he led Evie to his truck and helped the little girl climb inside.
Picking up her purse, Jill went into the store. As she paid her gas bill and explained to the gawking sales clerk what had happened, she couldn’t help wondering about Evie and her worried father. If they were passing through town, Jill would never see them again. If they lived in Bartlett, they were bound to meet up somewhere. Maybe at the grocery store, or the one-room post office. Of course, Jill wasn’t planning to stay long. A few days. A couple of months, max. It depended on how bad the problems were at her family’s business. She’d soothe her mother’s frayed nerves, try to help her younger brother at the sawmill and repair the damage if she could, then return to her lonely apartment in Boise. Evie and Brent Knowles were simply strangers that had crashed into Jill’s life and were now gone.
And that was that.
* * *
Brent opened the truck door and helped Evie climb into her seat. After buckling her in, he paused long enough to gaze into her mournful eyes. He cupped her rosy cheek with the palm of his hand and kissed the tip of her nose.
“You okay now, honey?” he asked.
She didn’t return his smile, just gazed back at him with a somber expression. Sometimes he wished she’d yell and scream. That was something he could understand. Something he thought he knew how to handle. But this quiet compliance, he couldn’t comprehend. It made him wonder what was going on in his little girl’s mind. Her silent solitude must be such an empty, lonely place. If only she’d let him in. If only she would trust him. He felt so clumsy and inept at helping her forget the trauma of her mother’s death.
So powerless.
His prayers remained