Clearing his throat, Trey resettled Ethan in his arms and glanced at his wife. “I think we should leave these two to their discussion.”
The marshal’s suggestion was innocent enough, but the casual alertness of his posture said he’d been listening to every word spoken, and a few unspoken, as well.
Nodding, Katherine murmured something Shane didn’t quite catch before she turned to Molly. “Come on, Moll.” She plucked one of her daughter’s pigtails. “Let’s get Ethan home and in bed.”
“But it’s still daylight,” the little boy whined as he struggled in his father’s arms. “I want to stay and play with the kids.”
Kicking with remarkable strength, his face was a contorted mixture of childish rebellion and youthful disappointment.
“You’ve had a bad time of it, baby.” Katherine reached out in silent command to her husband. Trey handed the boy over with the patience of a man used to obliging his wife’s wishes.
As they made the exchange, Shane marveled at the silent harmony between Trey and Katherine Scott. The couple had created a happy, tight-knit family out of impossible odds. If Shane ever doubted God’s ability to heal the wounded and bring about good from tragedy, all he had to do was look at this unified family for proof.
“Please, let me stay.” Ethan’s voice squeaked along the edge of a loud sob.
“You need to rest for a while, little man,” Trey said in a placating tone with a firm hand on the boy’s back. “Then we’ll see how you feel.”
He shot his wife a challenging look over Ethan’s head. “Isn’t that right, darling?”
“We’ll discuss it, after his nap,” she said, her voice no less formidable for its soft tone.
A stalemate began.
But as was often the case, the ruthless lawman who could intimidate murdering outlaws without flinching capitulated under his wife’s unyielding stare. “Whatever you say, dear.”
Katherine gave her husband a pleased smile. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
“What can I say?” Trey returned the look with another long, intent stare. “I’m an accommodating man.”
She giggled. She actually giggled. This, from the same woman who ruled her schoolroom with iron-clad structure.
Shane tried not to gape.
Molly rolled her gaze to the ceiling and groaned.
Silently agreeing with the girl, Shane handed Trey a roll of linen bandages. “Use these to wrap the leg once you’ve cleaned his wound in the morning. I’ll be by to check on him in the afternoon.”
“Right.”
Before the Scott family filed out, Miss O’Toole summoned a brisk air of confidence and said, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, as well.”
“We will,” Trey answered for them all. “And thank you again, Miss O’Toole. For everything.” One side of his mouth kicked up and he gave her a gallant bow, one more suited for a ballroom back east than a well-worn kitchen.
“It was my pleasure.” She dropped her gaze to Molly, touched the girl’s shoulder. “You were very brave today.”
The little girl flushed. “He’s my brother.”
Miss O’Toole squeezed the child’s shoulder in understanding then dropped her hand. Sighing, she walked over to Ethan and rubbed his back. There was such tenderness in her hands, such sweetness in her smile Shane found himself as riveted as Ethan appeared to be.
“Will you come see me, too, Miss Bella?” the boy asked. “With Dr. Shane?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Katherine patted Ethan’s bottom. “All right, folks, enough stalling. Let’s go.” She touched Bella’s arm and smiled. “Thank you again.”
One by one the Scott family trooped out the backdoor with Ethan waving enthusiastically over his mother’s head.
Once the door banged shut, Shane was far too aware of the silence as Miss O’Toole turned back to face him.
Their gazes locked with a force that nearly flattened him. In that moment, he forgot about steady hands and compassionate hearts and all the other reasons he’d decided Miss O’Toole would do nicely in the role of assistant.
He had one clear goal now: to convince this woman to work with him, by his side, for as long as possible.
What if she says no?
Desperation at the thought came so strong, so quick, Shane staggered back a step.
Cocking her head, Miss O’Toole pulled her eyebrows into a delicate frown. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re asking of me.”
Shane started forward, hesitated, shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s quite simple. My practice is growing faster than I can keep up. I’m in need of someone to assist me in—”
“No, no.” She waved her hand in a vague gesture. “I understand that part. What I don’t quite fathom is why me?”
A ripple of unease slipped down his throat. Blunt honesty was the only way now. Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I started this practice to provide medical care for the women and children no other doctor would touch. It’s—”
“Yes, yes, my brother told me about Charity House and the unique children living here. I also know some aren’t actually orphans.” Her chin lifted. “I have a good idea of the sort of patients you see.”
He ignored how the sunlight streaming in from the window shone off her hair, how it twinkled in her gingerbread eyes. But he could not ignore the relief he experienced at her words. She knew all about Charity House, every squalid detail. And yet, she wasn’t running in the opposite direction.
This could only be an answer to prayer.
Thank You, Lord.
“Life is difficult for the defenseless ones in this world,” he said. “Regardless of life choices, everyone deserves medical care.”
“All the more reason to make sure you hire the right person.”
“I believe I am.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I still don’t understand why you want me?”
Her voice was steady, but there was something in her gaze that told him his answer was far more important than merely convincing her she was the right person for the temporary position.
She needed reassurance.
He wouldn’t have thought that of her. But whatever secret she harbored—and yes, she held a dark secret in her heart—it had destroyed a portion of her confidence.
A small, still voice told him to go forth with faith. “Perhaps I don’t know everything about you, but remember I witnessed you in action today. You never hesitated, you followed directions precisely. You’re Pastor O’Toole’s sister. And you—”
Before he could expand further, the backdoor swung open and in strode the very man he’d just mentioned.
Unfortunately, Reverend Beauregard O’Toole’s face was twisted in alarm. “Where is she?” he demanded, drilling his gaze into Shane. “I heard my sister is here but I don’t believe it.”
With each word the preacher spoke Miss O’Toole took a step back, nearly blending into the shadows of the outer edges of the kitchen. Her tawny eyes became like soiled glass, completely concealing her emotions.
With growing curiosity, Shane watched her odd retreat.
Following Shane’s