In His Eyes. Gail Gaymer Martin

doesn’t have to,” Christine said.

      Connor rapped his knuckles against her locked door.

      “I’ll talk with you later?”

      “Think about what I said. That’s all I ask. You don’t want to be sorry you missed a chance.”

      Missed a chance. A chance for what? Getting hurt again? She pressed the lock release on the door, and Connor pulled it open. The cold wind swished inside, sending a chill up her spine. “I will. Talk to you later.” She disconnected as Connor closed the door.

      A frown flashed across his face. “Boyfriend?”

      “No.” She slipped the phone into her purse. “The ferry’s really closed.”

      “I know. I thought you’d come back.”

      She turned away from the sadness in his eyes. “I have no choice unless you know of a place for me to stay.”

      “Nothing on the island, but if you’re not comfortable staying at the cottage, Aunt Phyllis invited you there. She has plenty of room and would love the company.”

      Why hadn’t she thought of that? “That would work fine, Connor. Thanks. You know me and my upbringing.” Guilt washed over her, thinking back, but she didn’t want to deal with those memories now.

      “I understand. I always have, Ellene.”

      “I know.” She couldn’t look at him.

      “I have a big plate of goulash for you and a salad. You must be starving.”

      She nodded, trying to control the sensations that coiled around her heart. She wished he weren’t so thoughtful. She could detest him better that way.

      “Caitlin will be thrilled you’re back. She went into pout mode after you left.” He shook his head. “Everything that smacks of abandonment seems to tear her apart.”

      “Abandonment? You mean because I left?”

      His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it was your fault. It’s Caitlin. She opened up to you. She seemed more like herself than she has in days, but when she takes a chance and gets caught up in a relationship, the poor kid can’t handle people saying goodbye.”

      His comment struck her like a rock. “Her mother’s death. That makes sense.”

      “Yes, and I withdrew for a while. I tried not to, but I felt abandoned, too. What did I know about raising a four-year-old by myself? I had to cope with finding sitters and worrying about her care and needs. I felt guilty when I had to go somewhere if she couldn’t go along. My life changed in the blink of an eye. I felt helpless and useless.”

      Ellene’s chest tightened. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”

      “It felt like punishment.” He lifted his hand as if to stop her thoughts. “Not having to raise Caitlin alone, but having Melissa die so young. I wasn’t the best husband in the world, Ellene. I—”

      He stopped. She waited, her questions hanging on the threads of his words, but they seemed too personal to ask when he was apparently still grieving.

      “Should we go back?” she asked.

      “That’s what I’m here for,” he said, smiling as if he’d taken control of his emotion. “You go ahead, and I’ll follow you.”

      He opened the door as she turned the key in the ignition, but the heater’s warmth couldn’t hold back the pesky cold.

      “Drive carefully,” he said, leaning back into the car. “Thanks for listening.” He closed the door and hurried toward his car.

      Thanks for listening. The poignant comment swelled in her chest like yeast in bread dough. Hearing his story, Ellene realized Connor had paid the price for any wrongdoing he’d done, if he’d done anything so wrong in the first place. Sorrow overwhelmed her. Lord, help me to mend my ways and give me a kind heart toward him.