His Two Little Blessings. Mia RossЧитать онлайн книгу.
vastly different point of view. “And I think it’s great that you’re willing to do it. I also think you deserve to be compensated for your time.”
“There are more important things in life than money,” she told him. Nodding toward his content daughters, she smiled up at him. “Being a father, you know that better than anyone.”
It wasn’t exactly a scolding, but her gentle reminder hit him harder than if she’d yelled at him for being a coldhearted, capitalistic jerk. He couldn’t recall the last time that he’d paused in his busy schedule long enough to consider what was most important in his life.
Without question, his family came first. But during the past two years, while struggling to cope with the demands of his career and raising two precocious daughters on his own, he’d become more concerned about making it from day-to-day with no major disasters. He adored his girls, and he’d do everything humanly possible to keep them safe and happy in a world that seemed to grow more complicated every year.
In Emma’s quiet conviction, he heard an echo of how he’d felt when he was a new father, overjoyed by the simple pleasures that had governed their time as a family. Coming home from the hospital, crawling, walking, first words—those memories were precious to him. All the more because Sarah had been part of them.
But, as Caitlin liked to remind him on a regular basis, they weren’t babies anymore. At six and four, they were far from being independent, but they didn’t need him for every little thing as they once did. His role in their lives was gradually changing and would continue to evolve until the day he died. His goal was to enjoy every moment of that time to the fullest, but sometimes he lost sight of what that meant.
It didn’t escape him that this lovely artist had been the one to set him straight, and he couldn’t come up with a better way to repay her than to help save the program she’d put so much effort into.
“You’re right,” he agreed, smiling to show her there were no hard feelings. “And I appreciate you pointing that out to me. In return, I’d like to support you at the upcoming board meeting. When is it?”
“This coming Wednesday night. But it’s really not necessary for you to come. I know how busy you must be.”
“Everyone is, but we all make time for the things that matter. If you can stop by the bank tomorrow around three, I’ll take a look at what you have and see if there’s anything I can do to help you make your case for keeping the program a little stronger.”
Emma gave him a long, assessing look, and he got the feeling she was sizing him up. Deciding if she could trust him, maybe. “That sounds good to me. Thank you.”
She added a bright smile, and he found himself returning the gesture with no thought at all. He was no stranger to feminine attention, which was why he kept his wedding band firmly in place. Liberty Creek was a small town, and the last thing he needed was women thinking he was available. As a single dad, he’d gone through that before, and it had always ended badly. While he’d enjoy having someone to spend his scant free time with, he wasn’t about to subject his young daughters—or himself—to the dating scene anytime soon.
So for now he’d keep his wedding ring on and avoid getting into a relationship that would probably end up going nowhere and making a lot of people miserable. It was just simpler that way.
“You really don’t have to do this,” Emma protested while the Marshalls helped her dismantle her display area. She’d sold most of her stock, and while she wasn’t sure of the final tally in her cash box, she could tell from the weight of it that between sales and donations, she’d done well. “The boys will be coming over to help me when they’re done working for the day.”
“We’re here now, so we can save them a trip. It’s really not a problem,” Rick assured her, setting out some white cushioned boxes for Caitlin and Aubrey to load her extra jewelry into. “Make sure you don’t tangle the chains on those necklaces, Cait. Knots are no fun.”
“My hair got all tangled last week,” she commented with a sour face. “It took Mrs. Fields a long time to get it out.”
“I like braids,” Aubrey informed Emma, holding one out to prove her point.
She was so adorable, Emma couldn’t help laughing. “So do I, especially ones as pretty as yours. Who does them up so nicely for you?”
“Daddy. He’s good at lots of things.”
“Like what?”
“Making waffles, doing Band-Aids, singing,” Aubrey replied, ticking off his admirable skills on her pudgy fingers. “Mostly, he’s good at being Daddy.”
From the corner of her eye, Emma saw him smile while he broke down the table that had held the handmade items she’d been selling. He didn’t say anything, but his expression told her that his daughter’s praise meant a lot to him. From their conversation earlier about him being a numbers guy, she’d gotten the impression that he was the pragmatic type who didn’t get overly sentimental about things.
Seeing this softer side of him made her wonder if she’d misjudged the young widower. Timid by nature, she certainly could relate to why some people chose to keep their feelings under wraps. Considering his profession, he’d probably learned that it was smart to bide his time and carefully assess new situations—and acquaintances—before jumping in with both feet.
Emma’s own experience with the uncertainties of life had taught her to embrace each day and squeeze every ounce of joy from it that was humanly possible. It was tiring sometimes, especially because her health still tended to ebb and flow without much warning. But during all those months of chemo and her challenging recovery, she’d promised herself one thing.
When God finally decided to call her home, she’d go with a peaceful heart, secure in the knowledge that she’d used all the talents He’d given her and had accomplished everything she could have done during her time on earth.
After closing the back door of her hatchback, she turned to her assistants and gave them a smile. “Thanks so much for all your help today. What have you got planned for the rest of this weekend?”
Alternating, the girls rattled off their lists of what they hoped to achieve, including cleaning their room, finishing the puzzle they’d been working on and learning how to make snickerdoodles.
“Why snickerdoodles?” she asked.
“They’re Daddy’s favorite,” Caitlin informed her in a tone that implied the reason should have been obvious to Emma. She nearly laughed, but didn’t want to insult the bright girl by giving the impression that she wasn’t taking the subject seriously.
Instead, she sighed. “That all sounds like a lot of fun. I’ll be doing dishes and laundry, which isn’t nearly as interesting.”
“But very important,” Rick said, giving his darling girls a father-knows-best kind of look. “Work first, right, ladies?”
“Yes, then cookies,” Aubrey agreed, braids bobbing with enthusiasm for the treat that awaited them at the end of the job.
This time Emma couldn’t hold back her laughter, and after a moment he joined her. He’d struck her as a very serious man, and now that she was more familiar with what he had to manage on a daily basis, she completely understood his reserved demeanor. Still, she couldn’t help noticing that his eyes twinkled when he smiled at either of his daughters. It told her that there was a lighter side to his personality, and she hoped that he might feel more comfortable showing it to people as he got to know them better.
Not to her, of course. She was Caitlin’s teacher, which meant considering anything serious with Rick Marshall would be foolish, at best. Beyond that, between her job and ongoing recovery, she had more than enough to handle as it was. Some days she woke up so drained, she could barely drag herself out of bed