“So,” Rick said when their small talk died down, “when I stopped by Liberty Creek Forge to pick up my new garden gate the other day, your brother Brian was telling me that you make jewelry and you’d be selling some of it here today. Do you mind if we take a look?”
“Not a bit,” she replied, stepping back to give them a clear path to her booth. “Also, I keep forgetting to thank you for helping Brian out with the financing for his business. He never would’ve gotten started if you hadn’t stepped in to smooth things over for him with the loan committee.”
“Everyone deserves a chance to succeed,” Rick said, shifting Aubrey to his other side so she could look down at the array of necklaces that Caitlin was admiring. “Brian’s a good guy, and Lindsay’s an expert at keeping her husband and the business on track, so I felt they were a good risk. From what I see here, there’s quite a bit of artistic talent in the Calhoun family.”
It was flattering to hear that, but Emma felt her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She’d never been comfortable being complimented for something that she considered to be a gift from God, a talent meant to be shared with others who could appreciate it. Strangers often mistook her reticence for standoffishness, so she forced herself to smile up at the tall banker. “That’s nice of you to say. Thank you.”
“Just stating a fact, but you’re welcome. We’re looking for a Mother’s Day gift for my mom. What do you think she’d like, girls?”
The two of them debated over several items before finally settling on a pretty beaded bracelet with a silver oval that read “Grandma.” While Emma boxed and wrapped it for them, she asked, “Do you see anything your mommy might like?”
In a heartbeat, the three Marshalls fell silent. Rick’s jaw tightened in obvious distress, and he pulled Aubrey a bit closer, resting a hand on Caitlin’s shoulder in a protective gesture that told Emma she’d inadvertently stumbled onto very sensitive ground. Feeling awful, she wished there was a way to un-ask her question.
Lifting large, sad eyes to hers, in a voice barely above a whisper, Caitlin said, “Mommy’s in heaven.”
Unbidden, Emma’s gaze fell on Rick’s left hand, which still bore a gold wedding band. With great determination, she raised her eyes to meet his and frowned. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“We try to keep it to ourselves, for the girls’ sake,” he explained tersely. “Fewer questions to answer that way.”
Nodding, she tried desperately to come up with something else to say. Nothing comforting came to mind, so she simply said, “I understand.”
“Thank you.”
The casual ease that he’d displayed earlier had vanished, and in its place stood a man who was clearly still grieving, even while he raised his two beautiful daughters. Emma’s family was as close-knit as they came, and she couldn’t imagine how her life would be without her own mother. When trouble had come to her two years ago, the first person she’d confided in was Mom. They’d had a good cry, then got to work figuring out how to handle her sobering diagnosis.
Leukemia, the doctor had somberly informed her. Stage three.
Her family’s unwavering support, and a lot of prayer, had gotten Emma through the worst time of her life. The tests and seemingly endless rounds of chemo had gone on for months, and there had been times when she honestly thought she couldn’t possibly endure any more. She’d pushed away the despair, armed with a collection of cute hats and handmade jewelry that had spawned a new hobby that helped to keep her sane throughout her treatment.
In the end, she’d gotten through it using equal measures of grit and faith. Now, hopefully, she was on the other side of it and moving forward. The date of her follow-up test was circled on her calendar in bright pink. It was a cheerful, upbeat color, and she hoped her results would warrant it.
An optimist by nature, she’d learned the hard way that a positive attitude wasn’t always enough to make things work out in her favor. And while she recognized that it was important to be prepared for the worst, she didn’t know what that might be.
She’d never summoned the courage to ask.
* * *
Rick had no clue what to say next.
To cover his sudden silence, he set Aubrey down in the lush spring grass and pulled out his wallet. To Caitlin, he said, “Why don’t you two go across the aisle to Mrs. Calhoun’s stand and get us all some cookies and lemonade?”
“Okay, Daddy,” Caitlin agreed, nodding as if she understood that the conversation he was about to have wasn’t one for young ears. Taking Aubrey’s hand, she smiled and gave a light tug. “Come on. Let’s go get a snack.”
When he was satisfied that the girls were out of earshot, he squared his shoulders and faced the art teacher, who’d so innocently punched him in the gut. Her vivid blue eyes were filled with sympathy, made even more intense by the sunlight streaming down through the branches overhead. Her honey-brown hair shifted in the warm breeze, and she toyed with a short piece in a gesture that made it clear she was as uncomfortable as he was.
“About the ring...” The opening sounded awkward, and he felt more like a teenager approaching his crush to ask for a date than a twenty-eight-year-old man about to impose some logic on what must seem odd.
“There’s no need to explain yourself to me, Mr. Marshall,” she assured him in a formal tone very unlike the one she’d been using with him up until now. “What you wear or don’t wear is your own business. I’m just sorry that I misunderstood your situation. Being a single father is hard enough, but your circumstances are heartbreaking. I feel awful for upsetting you and the girls this way.”
Amazing, he thought with true admiration. Any other woman would have been curious about why he still wore his wedding ring when he was no longer married. Enough had done it recently that he’d come to expect the question. Despite the strain he was feeling, Emma’s respect for his wishes brushed some of his discomfort away.
“Sarah and I got married right after we finished college and had Caitlin a year later,” he explained quietly, hoping to avoid sharing his painful personal history with the people browsing at the next table. “When Aubrey was born four years ago, Sarah didn’t bounce back the way she did after Caitlin. For a few months she chalked the fatigue up to being a full-time mother of two.”
He heard the catch in his voice and paused to steady it. To his surprise, Emma laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “You don’t need to keep going if you’d rather not. I can fill in the blanks on my own.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “When Caitlin first started at school, my hair was still coming back in and I wore a lot of hats. She mentioned that her mother had done the same thing, so I assumed she’d been through something similar. I just didn’t realize that she passed away, and I’m truly sorry for all you and the girls have lost. They’re both wonderful, and Sarah must have been a remarkable woman to give them so much before she died.”
“She was,” he confirmed, relieved to feel his emotional balance returning. Emma’s soft voice, coupled with the compassionate words that she’d offered to him, eased the tension he’d been fighting, and he dredged up a smile for the kind woman. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course.”
The girls returned with their snack—most of it, anyway—and Rick turned his attention to a less morbid topic. “I’m seeing partial cookies and half-filled cups. Did you run into the Cookie Monster between here and there?”
“No,