A Father's Place

He sat down, unfolded his napkin, and his gaze met hers over the bowl of zinnias in the middle of the table. How on earth could she concentrate on anything else with him staring at her?

“The roast smells wonderful,” she said, wondering how she’d manage to taste it.

“My daddy’s favorite,” Kristie announced. “We always have his favorite when he comes.” Using two hands, she carefully passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to Ellie. “Do you like roast and mashed potatoes, Ms. Ellie?” She looked unaccountably anxious.

“Of course.” She took a spoonful, feeling her stomach tighten. This couldn’t possibly be a peaceful meal, not with her father beaming at Gwen and Quinn looking like a dam about to burst.

The conversation, accompanied by the clinking of silverware on china, didn’t reassure her. Quinn probed into her father’s past. Charles parried the questions with his customary skill, but her tension rose with every question, every comment.

How long would it be before her father said too much? She knew how he loved to talk. If he got started on any of his familiar stories, he’d give something away to a listener as acute as Quinn.

“You’re going to be here for the craft fair, aren’t you, Quinn?” Gwen must have decided that a change of subject was in order. “I’m counting on you to help us out with it.”

“I guess so.” His gaze turned inward, as if he consulted a mental calendar. “I’m on leave from the project for a month.”

Gwen pouted prettily. “You and that project. There’s always a new one. This is the first decent vacation you’ve taken in two years. I’m sure there are plenty of jobs for engineers here in Pennsylvania.”

“I have to go where the corps sends me. The work we’re doing is important.” Quinn sent his mother a quelling look.

“Why don’t you work here, Daddy?” Kristie took up the offensive. “Then you could come home every night. You could coach my soccer team, and we could go fishing and you could help with Bible school.”

Quinn looked a bit harassed, and Ellie had to smile. Maybe coping with his daughter’s wishes would distract him from her father.

“Honey, I can’t do that. Not right now. Let’s just enjoy my leave, okay? Hey, we haven’t talked about your birthday yet, and it’ll be here before you know it. Have you decided what you want?”

He wasn’t quite as skilled as her father in changing the subject when it got uncomfortable, but he’d probably improve with practice. She found herself wanting to tell him to answer his daughter’s question, and reminded herself it was none of her business.

Kristie tipped her head to one side, considering the question. “I want a chocolate cake,” she said firmly. “With white icing and lots of sprinkles.”

“We can probably manage that,” Quinn said.

“And a party with Ms. Ellie and her daddy.” She tilted her head toward Ellie. “You’ll come, won’t you? Please?”

Ellie tried not to look at Quinn, knowing what she’d see in his eyes. “If we get an invitation.” He undoubtedly wanted her to make an excuse, but she wouldn’t lie to the child.

“What about your present?” Quinn’s voice was even, but she could detect tension underneath. “A little bird told me you were thinking about a two-wheeler.”

Kristie giggled. “That wasn’t a little bird, Daddy. That was me!”

“Oh, yes, that’s where I heard it. So, what do you think? Is it going to be a bicycle?”

She shook her head decisively. “I decided there’s something I want even more.”

Quinn looked surprised, and Ellie wondered if he’d already picked out a bicycle. A six-year-old’s wants tended to change from moment to moment, but Kristie would probably be delighted with whatever her father gave her.

“Well, what is it?”

“I don’t know if I should tell.” Kristie wrinkled her nose. “Do you think it’s sort of like wishing on your candles? I mean, if you want something really, really bad, maybe you’ll get it if you don’t tell.”

“If you don’t tell,” Ellie pointed out, “Daddy won’t know where to buy it.”

“He doesn’t have to buy it!” For some reason, Kristie thought that was hilarious.

A spasm of apprehension crossed Quinn’s face. “Even so, sweetheart, I think you’d better tell me.”

Kristie considered a moment, then nodded. “Well, see, it’s something I was praying about. Ms. Ellie taught us about praying in Sunday school. And she said that God always answers, but sometimes He has to say no.” She turned to Ellie. “Isn’t that what you said?”

Now she was the one who was apprehensive, Ellie thought as she nodded. What on earth had she said that played into Kristie’s birthday wish?

“So I decided I’d ask for it for my birthday,” Kristie said confidently. “I always get what I want for my birthday, and if I do that and pray, too, I’m sure to get it.”

“I don’t think…” Ellie began, then fell silent when Quinn frowned at her.

“So what is it you want?” Quinn looked afraid to find out.

Kristie smiled confidently. “I want you to get married so I can have a mommy. Then you’ll come home to stay.”

“So, do you think you understand now?” Quinn concentrated on his daughter, seated between him and Ellie on the back porch swing. He tried to ignore the way Ellie’s arm curved around Kristie, the way her hand brushed his as she patted the child.

Think about your daughter, he lectured himself. Not about Ellie Wayne, no matter how attractive she is.

Now where had that come from? He was not attracted to Ellie. Her hair tickled his shoulder, escaping as usual from its band, and the faint scent of roses teased his senses, mingling with the spicy aroma of his mother’s marigolds. It looked as if he’d have to keep reminding himself he wasn’t.

They’d just tried to explain to Kristie the difference between prayer and birthday wishes, and he still wasn’t sure they’d succeeded. Maybe he’d have been better off doing this without Ellie, but he felt she carried some of the responsibility.

“I guess so.” Kristie looked up at him with trust shining in her eyes. “But that’s still what I want for my birthday, okay?”

He tried to suppress a sigh of exasperation. “Kristie…” he began, but she slid off the swing and patted his knee like a little mother.

“It’s okay, Daddy. You think about it. I’ll go help Grandma with dessert while you decide.”

She danced across the porch, her white sundress flitting around her. The screen door slammed behind her.

He looked at Ellie. Her expressive face was perfectly grave, but he thought a trace of amusement lurked in her dark eyes.

“I suppose you think this is funny.”

Her dimple showed. “Maybe just a bit. She is one very determined little girl. I wonder from whom she inherited that quality?”

She had a point there, though he hated to admit it. Certainly Julie had never been that way. Julie had been sweet, dependent, passive. But never determined.

“Do your spiritual lessons with six-year-olds always end up like this?” He firmly lobbed the ball back into Ellie’s court.

Her expression clouded. “I hope not. I take it very seriously, and I try to put things in terms children can understand. But you just never know how they’re going to interpret what you say.”

“To an engineer, precision is crucial.”

“Even when you’re dealing with a six-year-old?”

“Especially when you’re dealing with a six-year-old like mine.” He frowned. Did he really have a clue what Kristie needed anymore? “I already ordered the bicycle. It’s hidden over at Brett and Rebecca’s house. Bright blue, with streamers on the handlebars.”

“She’ll love it. Really.” She reached toward him, almost as if she wanted to comfort him. Then, just as quickly, she drew her hand back, apparently thinking the better of it. “I’m sure she knows you want what’s best for her.”

“I hope so.” He looked at her, weighing the caring that shone in those bright eyes. He’d like to believe that was genuine. Unfortunately he couldn’t ignore the instinct that told him she was hiding something. “I want what’s best for my mother, too.”

She knew immediately what he was talking about. He could see that in her sudden wariness. Her expression clouded, and she looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “Your mother seems to be perfectly happy with her life.”

“You look at her as a friend,” he said, trying to ignore the way her dark hair curled against the sunshine yellow of her dress. “At least I hope so. I look at her as the mother who’s always been protected.”

She bit her lower lip for an instant, then seemed to come to a decision. Her gaze met his with a certain amount of defiance. “I’ve already told you that she and my father are just friends.”

“Are they?” After his mother’s performance this morning at church, he couldn’t believe that.

“Yes.” She said it so firmly that he thought she was trying to convince herself. “And if it’s any satisfaction to you, I don’t want to see anything else between them, any more than you do.”

“Why?” He shot the word at her.

For an instant she looked disconcerted. “Because…because my father will be leaving soon.” He sensed she edited her words carefully, and wondered what she’d say if she really spoke her mind. “I just don’t think it would work out.”

“That’s good, because I intend to make sure nothing happens between them.” He leaned closer, hearing the sudden catch of her breath at his nearness. They were so close he could see the fine vein tracing her temple, the curve of each dark lash. “And since you agree that a relationship between them is a bad idea, you can help me.”

“I don’t—I don’t think that’s necessary.” She drew back, setting the swing vibrating with her tension.

“I do.”

She started to rise, as if to escape him. He caught her hand, holding her still for an instant. He felt her skin grow warm against his palm.

“And I think you do, too,” he said.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said that to him. But this time they both knew it wasn’t true. They seemed to be communicating through their linked hands. He felt the determination on his side and just as clearly felt the doubt and fear on hers.

Ellie’s eyes widened, telling him the same instinctive knowledge flooded her. The moment stretched, weighted and silent.

She twisted away from him in a sudden movement and hurried into the house, the screen door slamming behind her.

Quinn took a deep breath, looking down at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. He wasn’t sure what had just happened here. Maybe Ellie didn’t know, either.

But one thing was very clear. He had to detach his mother from Ellie’s father, and he had to guard his own emotions while he did so. Because Ellie Wayne had just roused feelings in him he’d never thought to have for any woman again.

Everything was going to be all right. Ellie had told herself that a dozen times by the next morning, and she still wasn’t convinced. Her reaction to Quinn rattled her—she couldn’t deny that. She just hoped she hadn’t let him see how much.

She glanced around the Sunday school room, trying to focus on it instead of the shop. Her part-time help, young Janey Dean, would do fine without her for the mornings this week while she concentrated on vacation Bible school.

She’d pushed the tables to the side so she could set up a pretend camping area in the center for vacation Bible school. The kids would like that. Unfortunately thinking of the children made her think of Kristie, which led her thoughts right back to Kristie’s father.

She had to stop this. There was a simple solution to the problem presented by Quinn Forrester. She’d avoid him, and she’d make sure her father did the same.

She knew Quinn’s type, only too well. He might stay in Bedford Creek for a time, feeling guilty about his little girl. But then the need to achieve at his job would kick in, and before he even recognized what had happened, he’d be on his way back to the West Coast.

She bit her lip, thinking of Kristie. Lord, I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. I shouldn’t be hoping he goes away soon, not when his daughter wants so much for him to stay. But what can I do?

There didn’t seem to be any good answer to that question, and she suspected her prayers on the subject of Quinn had been a little self-serving.

She just had to stay away from him, she reminded herself firmly. Surely Bedford Creek was big enough to allow that. She’d stay away from him, and everything would work out fine.

The thunder of running feet announced the first arrivals for Bible school, and she turned her mind firmly toward her plans for the day.

Kristie bounced through the doorway with the earliest group, her small face beaming with pleasure. “We’re here!” she shouted.

We? Ellie’s heart thudded to her toes as Quinn appeared behind his daughter. He paused for a moment, his tall figure framed in the doorway. His faded jeans and white knit shirt were considerably less formal than the suit, dress shirt and tie he’d worn for church. Less formal, she found herself thinking, but not less attractive.

She forced a smile. “Good morning.” She turned to the children. “Wow, you’re here early. How would you like to help make a mural of Abraham’s sheep?”

Luckily everyone would. She got them started with markers on the newsprint background she’d already prepared and steadfastly refused to look at the doorway. He’d go away.

Several sheep later she glanced up, and her stomach clenched. Despite her hopes, Quinn was still there.

Leaving the young artists to their work, she approached him cautiously, realizing she was being ridiculous. He wasn’t going to start discussing their parents in the middle of Bible school.

“Kristie’s fine,” she said quietly.

“I can see that.” He didn’t move.

What was wrong with him? Didn’t he realize parents were supposed to drop the children off and go? “You can come back for her at noon.”

He arched his dark brows, as if in surprise. “Come back? I don’t need to come back. I’m staying.”

“Staying?” She couldn’t help the way her voice rose, and she made an effort to control it. She couldn’t let the children see what an undesirable effect Kristie’s father had on her. “Why? If you’re worried about Kristie adjusting to Bible school, you can see she’s fine.”

“No, of course I’m not worried about her. I know she loves coming here.” Quinn’s smile seemed tinged with a touch of malice. “In fact, she loves it so much she insisted I come along. She’s talked me into helping with Bible school, so we can be together all the time. I’m your new assistant.”

Chapter Four

For just an instant Ellie was speechless, and then anger took over. “Don’t I have anything to say about who helps with my class?”

“Don’t you want me?” Quinn gave her an innocent look that was belied by the satisfaction in his tone. “I thought vacation Bible school always needed extra help. I talked to the pastor about it, and he thought this was a wonderful idea.”

Quinn obviously felt he’d covered all the bases, and her temper rose. “Fine.” She clipped the word. “Since you want to help, suppose you supervise the class for a few minutes. I think I’d better talk with Pastor Richie myself.”

She assumed he’d balk at being left alone with the children, but he just smiled. “Fine.” He strolled toward the mural. “Take as long as you want.”

Fuming, Ellie hurried down the hallway, passing classrooms whose teachers didn’t have to worry about anything more than the lesson. Or making visitors feel welcome.

Her fists clenched. They always urged the children to bring a friend to Bible school. How could she turn Quinn away? But how could she possibly work with him?

She caught up with the pastor in the kitchen, where he was arranging trays of cookies and fruit for the children’s snack.

“Don’t we have a volunteer to do that?” she asked, diverted from her mission at the sight of Pastor Richie in an apron.

The minister’s round, cherubic face creased in a smile. “Rebecca volunteered to set up refreshments before she went to the clinic, but she’s feeling sick, I’m afraid. I told her we didn’t require expectant mothers to help, at least not first thing in the morning.” He popped a broken piece of gingerbread in his mouth. “Besides, I’m an expert on cookies.”

“Speaking of help…”

He beamed. “Your new assistant, of course! Isn’t it wonderful? I could hardly believe it when Quinn said he wanted to work with your class.”

“Yes, well, you see…” In the face of the pastor’s pleasure, it was amazingly difficult to say she didn’t want him. “I’m not sure this will work out. Maybe he’d do better with a different class.”

Pastor Richie wiped his hands on his apron, his gaze assessing her. He always seemed able to look right into people’s minds, but never seemed surprised at what he found there.

No, not into hers. He’d never guessed the secret she hid, even from him, and for an instant she felt ashamed.

“I’m afraid a different class wouldn’t work,” he said slowly. “Quinn told me Kristie was counting on his presence. Poor child, she sees little enough of her father.”

His words were arrows, hitting her heart. She tried to put up a shield against them. “But surely he’d feel more comfortable working with older children. Or he could help with the games.”

Pastor Richie was already shaking his head. “Ellie, please. I realize it may be a little uncomfortable, having the father of one of your students there, but this is a special case. So many of us have been praying for Quinn.”

“I know.” How could she not? Gwen constantly asked for prayers for Quinn from her prayer partners.

Sympathetic pain flickered in Pastor Richie’s eyes. “He’s had a difficult time of it since his wife’s death, and he hasn’t let us minister to him the way we should. Don’t you think God expects us to grasp this opportunity to help him if we can?”

He seemed to be putting a charge on her. Much as she’d like to avoid it, she couldn’t. She tried to manage a smile. “Yes, of course, Pastor. You’re right.”

He squeezed her hand. “I knew you’d understand, Ellie. Perhaps God has guided Quinn to a point where he can be helped.”

“I don’t know that I’m the best person to help him.” If the pastor knew why Quinn was here, he’d realize how true that was.

“Nonsense.” He squeezed her fingers again. “Your warm heart will tell you what to do and say, my dear. Just follow it, all right?”

This situation had spun entirely out of her control, and she seemed to be out of choices. She tried to smile. “All right. I’ll try.”

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