Luc glanced down at her fingers, saw the calluses that covered her small palms and felt a pang of sympathy for the chores she’d undertaken. She was so young to be saddled with such a demanding task.
“I’ll soon have to get rid of the rest of the stock,” she murmured, her eyes on a herd grazing a quarter of a mile away.
He understood she was thinking out loud, so Luc leaned back in his chair and sipped his lemonade.
“They’re too much for me to handle and I can’t afford to feed them come winter. Besides, I need the money they’ll bring.” Her voice dropped until it emerged a faint whisper. “I wish he’d told me about the loan. I didn’t have to go to college. I would have been quite happy to stay right here.” She peered up at Luc, her eyes glassy with tears.
“I’m sure your father wanted his daughter to experience college life, Dani. I didn’t know him well, but I don’t think he would have begrudged you the opportunity, no matter what it cost. Let me tell you something I’ve learned, just from watching Joshua Darling. Nothing is too much for a man’s daughters.” He kept his eyes straight ahead, pretended he wasn’t paying attention to her soft sniffles as she struggled for control.
“Daddy insisted I go. At first we even argued about it. But I never could disobey him. Still, I should have refused. I didn’t realize he was so short of cash. He shouldn’t have taken out a loan to send me on that overseas study trip last summer. He should have told me. I’d have come home sooner if I’d known.”
“If you’d known he didn’t have long to live, you mean?” Luc did look at her then, touched by her sense of loss. “Dani, your father wouldn’t have wanted you to put your life on hold, waiting for him to die. He was happy living each day. He put the most he could into his time here, and then his heart failed him. Some men suffer for years, but he didn’t. Be glad you had the time you did.”
“I am.” She sighed. “It’s just…hard. You know? I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“I know.” He met her tear-filled eyes. “I was there, I heard him talking about you. He loved you very much.” Who was he to give advice? Still Luc searched for encouragement. “Try to remember the good times you shared. And if you need a friend, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” She nodded, took a swipe at her tears. “Do you have a family?”
“One sister, two brothers.” He remembered suddenly that he hadn’t written any of them in ages. E-mail wasn’t that difficult to send. He chided himself for not keeping better touch.
“That must have been fun.” A wistful longing filled her voice. “I would have loved a sister.”
“Not mine, you wouldn’t. She was a pain.” Tracy’s stubbornness had not abated in the years since her pre-school temper tantrums, though Luc had never told her that outright. He preferred a hassle-free existence.
“Did you argue?” Dani’s face lit up with interest, green eyes sparkling.
“All the time. She always knew what was right and, unless you did it her way, she nagged you like a festering boil.”
“Doc!” Dani’s laughter bubbled out in spite of her shocked look. “That’s not very flattering.”
“Tracy’s not the kind of sister you flatter. I’m just glad I was never a patient under her care.” He made a face. “You’d get well just so you could escape.”
“She’s a doctor or a nurse?”
“A bossy, cantankerous nurse who always knows what’s best for everyone. Believe me, it wasn’t any hardship to give her away when she got married.” He strove for a lighthearted tone, hoping to ease her sad memories—while hoping Tracy would forgive him for enhancing his characterization of her managerial ways.
“Stubborn? Oh, she’s like you, then.” Dani giggled at his frown, held up her hands. “Teasing, just teasing. I have no basis for comparison. I haven’t even been in your office. I don’t get sick very often.”
No, she glowed like a beacon of good health, her youth and vitality making Luc feel far older than his thirty-three years.
“What about your brothers? Are they stubborn too?”
“Of course.” He nodded. “But you can reason with them, if you can understand them.” He caught her puzzled stare. “They speak an unknown language—at least to me. Computer mumbo jumbo. They’re partners in a tech company in Arizona. I love them both, but a lot of the time I don’t understand a thing they’re saying. Mostly I just nod and slap them on the shoulder.” He shrugged. “Works for me.”
She giggled at his silliness. “And your parents?”
He blinked up at her. “Hey, what is this? Twenty questions?”
“Just curious. But if you have something to hide, then—”
“I never said that.” Luc knew perfectly well that one whisper of a secret in Blessing and he’d be under the microscope of every busybody in town. He resigned himself to explaining.
“It’s just that I don’t talk about my family much. My parents died when we were young. We lived with my grandparents.” He decided that was enough information. “Okay, herein endeth the history lesson. Maybe we should get started memorizing those lines.”
“If I’d known you were so eager, I would have suggested that ten minutes ago.” Dani whipped out her copy of the play and grinned. “Where do you want to begin?”
“Truthfully? I don’t want to begin at all. That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you’d found someone else. You’re sure there is no one?” His heart sank when she shook her head.
“I’m sure, Doc. There’s no one else. It’s up to you.” Dani looked at him through her lashes. “The first line goes…”
He gave in then, reconciled himself to the torture of embarrassment that could not be avoided.
“Doc!” she squealed for the fifth time, ten minutes later. “Think about what you’re saying. You can’t ‘pry the tattles.’ It’s ‘try the paddles.’ Say it again.”
Luc tried, he truly did. But as time went on, and he thought more and more about standing in front of a bunch of people he knew mostly from their presence in his very private examining room, he simply got worse. His tongue twisted into knots that not even Dani’s soft coaching could undo.
“Face it, I’m lousy at this. You have to find someone else.” He lurched up from his chair and paced across the faded boards. “I’m simply no good when it comes to public speaking.”
“Anyone can be good at it. You just need the right method.” She tapped one finger against her bottom lip. “How about singing your lines.”
He groaned. How much could one man take? “I don’t think singing is going to help,” he mumbled.
“It might help you loosen up if you focus on something else. Try this.” She repeated the first of his lines in a catchy little melody.
Luc repeated the notes and words as best he could.
“Again.”
She repeated that word nine times, but by the time he made it that far, she had both ears covered and was curled up in a tight little ball.
“Stop, Doc. Please, have pity on me and stop.”
He stopped, immediately forgetting what he was supposed to say next.
Dani unwound herself, pulled her fingers from her ears and stood. Her eyes were huge.
“Look, Doc, no offense, but I think the singing is out. You are tone deaf.” She blinked at him. “Come on, I’m hungry.