She lifted her eyebrows, as if doubting his assessment. “And now Rebecca is, I suppose.”
Guilt stabbed at him. Since his father’s death Rebecca had taken on the duty that should have been his. Their other sister, Angela, had married, then gone off to Philadelphia when her husband’s business sent him there. And Quinn had been so preoccupied with the twin burdens of his career and his grief that he’d let Rebecca handle everything.
Not anymore, he promised, not sure whether he was talking to himself or his father. It was time he took on the responsibilities he’d shelved for too long.
“Rebecca has enough to do with her husband, the clinic and a baby on the way. If my mother needs anything, I’ll be the one to help her.”
He wasn’t sure whether anger or fear predominated in the look she gave him. “I’m sure she appreciates that,” she said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to get ready.”
He clearly wasn’t going to get anything more from Ellie at this point, so he let himself be ushered to the door. Her relief was almost palpable when he finally set foot outside.
He stopped, hand on the door to keep her from closing it. “Where was it your father said the two of you were from?”
“Ohio,” she snapped, and closed the door so sharply he had to snatch his hand away.
Ellie wasn’t the accomplished storyteller he suspected her father was. That had had the ring of truth about it.
He watched as she flipped the Closed sign into place. She went toward the stairs, so quickly she might almost have been running away. The yellow cat leaped into the window, stared unblinkingly at him for a long moment and then turned and followed his mistress.
If he’d gone to Ellie Wayne’s shop seeking assurance that everything was all right, he’d come away knowing the opposite was true. And it wasn’t his adverse reaction to Charles Wayne that had convinced him. He could chalk that up to personal taste.
No, he’d been convinced by Ellie’s reactions. Ellie Wayne was afraid. Of him? Of something to do with her father? He wasn’t sure, just as he wasn’t sure of a lot of things about her.
She’d lived in Bedford Creek for close to five years. She’d become an accepted part of the town. But as far as he could tell, no one knew much about her life before she came here. And people knew even less about her father.
It was time that changed, and he intended to change it.
Chapter Two
“Ms. Ellie, do you really think God answers prayers?”
Ellie decided she’d never get used to small children’s ways of asking the deepest spiritual questions. She sat down next to Quinn’s little daughter the next morning. The rest of her Sunday school class had scampered out the door already, but Kristie had lingered, the question obviously on her mind.
“Yes, I think God does answer prayers.” She brushed a coppery curl back from Kristie’s cheek, sending up a silent plea for guidance. “But I think sometimes we don’t understand God’s answers.”
Kristie frowned, putting both hands on the low wooden table. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why don’t you tell me about your prayer,” she suggested. “Maybe I can help you understand.”
Kristie’s rosebud mouth pursed in an unconscious imitation of her grandmother’s considering look. “Well, see, I prayed just like you taught us. And I remembered to thank God and everything.”
Their last few lessons had been on prayer. Kristie, at least, had been listening. “And what else?” she prompted gently.
“I asked God to make Daddy stay here for good.” The words burst out. “And I thought it would work. But when I asked him, Daddy said he has to go out West again. And I don’t want him to!”
Ellie drew the child close, heart hurting. Did Quinn realize how much his little girl missed him, even though a loving family surrounded her?
“Kristie, I know I said God answers our prayers, and I believe that.” She spoke slowly. Caring for the spiritual well-being of the children in her class was one of the most important things she’d ever do, and she wanted to do it right.
“But God knows what’s best for us. Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it’s no. And sometimes the answer is wait.” She smiled into the little face turned up to hers so trustingly. “I think that’s the hardest answer of all, because I hate to wait for things. But I remind myself that God loves me and wants what’s best for me. Do you think you could remember that, too?”
“I guess so.”
“I’m sure she will.”
The unexpected masculine voice jolted her. Quinn stood in the doorway, and he’d obviously been listening for some time. Her cheeks flushed. Had he heard what Kristie’s prayer was about? And was he angry that she presumed to give his daughter advice?
“Daddy!” Kristie raced across the room to throw her arms around his waist. “Are you going to church with me?”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He gave her a quick hug, his face softening as he looked down at her.
Ellie’s heart cramped. When he smiled at his daughter, the lines in Quinn’s face disappeared. The marks of grief and bitterness were magically erased, and he looked again like the college graduate in the picture on Gwen’s piano, smiling at the world as if he owned it.
“You run down to the parlor and catch up with Grandma, okay? I want to talk to your teacher for a minute.”
Kristie nodded, the clouds gone from her face, and danced toward the door. “We’ll wait for you,” she said importantly. “Don’t be late.”
Yesterday it had been his mother; today it was his daughter. Quinn Forrester must feel she’d interfered with his family far too much.
Quickly, before he could launch an attack, Ellie shoved the Sunday school books onto the shelf. “I’m afraid I don’t have time now.” She started for the door. “I’m playing the organ for the service, and I have to get ready.”
But if she thought she was going to get rid of him that easily, apparently she was mistaken. He fell into step beside her. A dark suit, pale blue shirt and striped tie had replaced yesterday’s jeans, but he still looked like a man who belonged outdoors. And he moved as if the church hallway were a mountain trail.
“I’ll walk with you, and we can talk on the way.” He pushed open the double doors that led from the Sunday school wing to the church itself, his hand strong and tanned against the pale wood.
Maybe it was time to go on the offensive with him. “I suppose you think I shouldn’t have spoken that way to your daughter.” She certainly wouldn’t apologize for doing what a church school teacher should.
Instead of counterattacking, Quinn tilted his head slightly as if considering. “No, I wouldn’t say I think that. You’re her Sunday school teacher. That’s your job, answering the tough questions.”
His unexpected agreement took the wind out of her sails, and she glanced up to meet his steady gaze. For now, at least, it wasn’t accusing. “The questions are tough. Sometimes almost unanswerable.”
“What do you do if you don’t have an answer?” He really seemed curious.
She smiled. “Say so. Then I ask the pastor. That’s his job, after all.”
“I’m sure he appreciates that.”
She’d never have thought, after yesterday, that she and Quinn would be smiling at each other in perfect harmony. The tension inside her eased. They’d gotten off to a difficult start, but perhaps they could begin again.