The Cowboy Father

Chapter Two

Emmet closed the door softly behind Miss Morgan’s departure and stared at the wooden slab. She was much too young and pretty to be…what? Young and single? Not planning marriage? Most certainly a temporary condition. No doubt she waited only for the right man to show up. Not that it mattered one way or the other to him. He no longer sought after dreams such as marriage, home, success.... All that mattered now was taking care of Ellie. And he had failed badly in that area. Something he intended would not happen again. Nothing must divert him from caring for her.

“I hope you’re going to let Louisa help Ellie.”

His aunt’s voice thankfully jerked him back from the dark trail his thoughts headed down. He turned to meet her intent look.

“She’s a good person.”

“She starts tomorrow.”

“Good for you. I was afraid you’d see her pretty face and immediately count her out.”

“Now, why would you think that?” He purposely kept his voice soft. Sometimes Auntie May responded better to a gentle warning.

But not always.

“I know you, boy. You’ve been hurt too many times. And now you’ve locked your feelings in a deep vault someplace.”

How wrong she was. Not that he hadn’t tried exactly that. But he’d failed miserably. He’d never felt anything as deeply, as frighteningly real as when he’d found Ellie hurt. “My feelings are not buried. I care about Ellie. So much it hurts.”

A cat jumped to a table next to Auntie May and leaned over in an attempt to get her attention. Several things clattered to the floor.

Auntie May scooped up the cat and retrieved the fallen objects. “I don’t mean Ellie. Of course you love her. She’s your flesh and blood. But don’t you think she needs a mother? Just as you need a wife—a partner?”

“I’ve already tried that, remember? And it ended with Jane dying.” Like everyone he cared for. His parents. Even his pet dog. “Ellie is enough for me.”

“She can’t be, you know. A man needs a wife.”

He snorted. “This from a woman who never married.” He considered her. “Are you saying you regret that?”

She chortled. “I have you and Ellie. And my pets.” She scrubbed the heads of four cats sitting at her feet. Then she gave him a look full of both challenge and regret. “I loved once.”

“You did? What happened?”

She shrugged and buried her face in the fur of the gray cat in her arms. Seemed the animal was the favored of the bunch, or perhaps the most demanding, as it always ended up being held. “Didn’t work out.”

“Why?” In the dozen or so years he’d lived here, she’d never once hinted she had loved someone. Nor expressed regrets at being single. Did the man die? Seems death stole a lot of people.

“I’ve been happy. Nothing to complain about, but take it from me. Cats aren’t the same as humans.”

“No kidding.”

“They’re more loyal for the most part, however.”

Emmet considered the statement. Had Auntie May’s love interest been disloyal? The idea only reinforced his decision. “Auntie, I’m sorry your love didn’t work out. But you say you’ve been happy. That’s more than many can claim, and likely all any of us can expect. I’m content with my life. I have Ellie and you.” He bent to pat two furry heads. “And the cats.”

“I always wanted more for you. I wanted you to have the things I didn’t.”

“You’re sweet, but I had a wife. She died. But she gave me a daughter. Do I deserve anything more?”

“I don’t know what any of us deserves, but God, in His mercy, blesses us anyway. My concern is you’ve shut your heart to more. Likely wouldn’t take it, even if God sent it your way.”

Emmet didn’t want to argue with her. Didn’t have an argument to offer. He had all he wanted. Anything else would only invite more pain. Auntie May was right. He had barred his heart.

A crash rattled from the kitchen. No, it was Ellie’s room. Had she fallen? Hurt herself while he stood two rooms away making silly conversation? He would never forgive himself if—

He crossed the room in long strides and hurried to her bedside, Auntie May at his heels.

Ellie’s covers were rumpled, but other than that she looked in one piece.

“What was that racket?” he demanded.

Auntie May continued past the bed. “I’d say this would explain the noise.” She held up the shattered base of a lamp. “Now, I wonder how that ended up on the floor.”

“I bumped it,” Ellie said, “trying to get something to play with.” She put on a pretty pout. “Daddy, you said you’d come back and play with me.”

“I was on my way.” He shouldn’t have lingered talking to his aunt about things that didn’t matter.

“I’ll clean this up.” Auntie May brought a broom and dustpan from the kitchen. “You go ahead and amuse your daughter.”

“Thanks.” He caught Ellie’s eyes and tilted his head toward his aunt, silently signaling her.

Ellie smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry for breaking your lamp, Auntie May.”

“Goodness, child. Don’t you fret about it. Accidents happen.”

His daughter made him proud. “What would you like to do?”

“Ride my pony.”

He chuckled. “I guess you would, but how do you think he’d feel with a big white stiff body on his back? Wouldn’t he be frightened?”

Ellie giggled. “He’d kneel down and dump me off.”

“I expect he would.”

“Is that lady going to be my teacher?”

“Miss Morgan? She’s coming with lessons tomorrow.”

“Do I have to do schoolwork? Please don’t make me.”

He hated doing so, but surely it was the best thing for her. “It will help you pass the time and you’ll be able to keep up with your friends at school.”

“But Daddy, all my friends are where we used to live. I have no friends here.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Why did we have to move?”

“I’m sorry, Button. But I couldn’t take care of you and run the ranch.”

“Betsy could look after me.”

Anger surged up his throat at how Betsy had looked after his daughter. He’d arrived home early to find Ellie on the ground, screaming in pain with a broken leg and Betsy absent. She’d gone to a nearby homesteader’s place—a single man—and left Ellie on her own. From all accounts, not an unusual occurrence. Seemed he was the last to discover it. Shouldn’t he have been the first? “I didn’t much care for the way Betsy watched you.”

“Miss Morgan is very pretty, isn’t she?”

Far too pretty to be single. But that mattered not to him in the least. “She’s passable, I suppose.”

Auntie May, mussing about in the kitchen, snorted loudly. Emmet chose to ignore it.

“You might like her better than me.”

“Oh, Ellie.” He pulled a stool close to her side and cradled her in his arms as best as the body cast allowed. “I will never like anyone better than you. Not so long as I live.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He held her close a moment longer, then she squirmed free.

“Tell me a story.”

“I’m not much good at storytelling.”

“Tell me about Grandma and Grandpa.”

He sucked in air. All she knew was they had died when he was nine. He never talked about them. It was another life. This was his life now. “How about if I tell you about the night you were born?”

“Okay.” She sounded less than enthusiastic. Perhaps because she’d heard the story before.

So he tried to up the drama and suspense of that long-ago night when the doctor had come in the middle of an October snowstorm and the electricity had gone off. His little daughter had been delivered by flickering lamplight. And he’d fallen smash, dash in love with his tiny girl. “I loved you from your first breath, and I will love you until my last breath.” He squeezed her gently.

Ellie giggled. “Daddy, you’re silly.”

“Silly about you.”

“Then you won’t make me do schoolwork?”

Emmet laughed, pleased at her wily ways. “You’ll still have to do schoolwork.” He scooped up the gray cat and put it on the bed beside Ellie. “You play with the cat while I do some chores.” He didn’t intend to sit around and let Auntie May do everything. He’d noticed a number of neglected things he planned to take care of while he was here.

Later, after he fixed a broken step and cleaned out weeds blown around the back shed, he returned to play with Ellie.

“I wish you would stay with me all day.”

“I wish I could too, Button. But I can’t.” Having Louisa Morgan spend a few hours each day with Ellie would make it better for both him and his daughter.

Next morning, Emmet waited at the front door for Louisa to arrive. He’d had a restless night, wondering if he did right by Ellie, forcing her to take lessons while confined to bed. But Louisa said she’d spent time in a similar situation. Had she been ill? It was hard to believe. She looked in perfect health.

A battered-looking car, a Model A, wheezed to the front gate. Louisa stepped daintily from the vehicle. She moved as if she anticipated what life had to offer. Her cheeks glowed. Her skin was like pure silk, and curly dark hair framed her oval face. A dark pink dress with a flowery pattern accented her chinalike complexion and swirled about her legs as she turned. If she had any physical flaws, he did not detect them, and if she suffered any chronic illness, it didn’t reveal itself in the way she moved.

She leaned into the backseat and pulled out a satchel so heavy it required she use both hands to set it on the ground. Then she dragged an awkward board out, set it beside the satchel and bent to extract some lengths of wood.

All this to teach Ellie a little reading, writing and ’rithmetic? He stepped outside. “Can I give you a hand with those things?”

She sent him a smile full of gratitude that sneaked through his defenses and delivered a king-size wallop to a spot behind his heart.

He sank a mental fist into the area and pushed it into oblivion. “Seems you’re serious about this tutoring business.”

She laughed. Music seemed to fill the air. He glanced around to see if a door was open, if someone was playing the piano. All doors were closed. He shifted his gaze to the trees. Birds sang an accompaniment to the sound. He concluded the music came from Louisa’s laugh. “I like to do a good job.”

“I’ll take the bag. It looks heavy.” He grunted as he hoisted it from the ground. “Did you bring bricks?”

Another musical chuckle. “Just books. Some Adele—Miss Ross—loaned from the school and some I brought from home.” She tucked the longer pieces of wood under one arm and tried to tackle the bigger piece, but it was almost as big as she.

“I’ll take that. What is it?”

She turned it to show the other side. “A blackboard. My brother-in-law, Judd, made this tripod. See, the legs extend so I can write on the board then raise it so Ellie can see it from her position in bed. Isn’t that clever?”

“Oh, very.”

She chuckled. It seemed everything amused her, pleased her.

Obviously, he thought with a shade of bitterness, she had not encountered major difficulties in her life.

They struggled toward the house and dropped the items on the floor.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Thanks for helping.”

They stood in the doorway to catch their breath. “We sure need rain.” Clever conversation, Emmet mocked himself. But what did it matter? He was only being polite.

“Rain, an end to grasshoppers, better commodity prices. So many things. I know my sister thinks the government should fix the country’s problems, but I prefer to trust God. He’ll change things when He sees fit. In the meantime, I will trust Him for my daily needs.”

Her faith sounded nice. But would she trust if everything she valued was snatched away? Would she say God was treating her fairly? Would her faith falter? But he didn’t want to talk about trials and how they affected one’s faith. His own hung on by a tiny thread. “I neglected to ask about your family. Do you come from a large one? Tell me about them.”

“I have two younger sisters. Madge is a year younger. She married Judd last fall. Sally is two years younger. She lives at home as do I, with our mother.” She paused a beat then went on. “My father died four years ago. I still miss him.” Her voice thickened.

Emmet stilled an urge to squeeze her shoulder. “My parents died eighteen years ago and I still miss them.”

“Oh.” Her lips formed a little circle, and her eyes widened. “I thought it would get easier with time.”

“It gets easier. Just never goes away.”

“I remember him at the silliest times. A certain hymn will bring tears to my eyes. Or the smell of molasses cookies, which he loved. Or—” She shrugged. “I suppose it’s the same for you.”

It was a question, even though she didn’t voice it as one. But he remembered very little about his parents. “I leave it in the past.”

Her eyes widened even more. “You mean you purposely try to forget about them?” She didn’t wait for an answer but provided her own. “Although I miss my father, I wouldn’t want to forget him or all the wonderful memories I have. Nor the lessons he taught.”

“I suppose time has dulled my memories.” He didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. “You must have moved to this area after I left.”

“We bought the farm two miles from town eight years ago.”

“Ah. I left nine years ago.”

“Daddy!” Ellie’s voice wailed through the house.

Emmet chuckled. “She’s been waiting patiently all morning. Seems her patience has run out.” He again picked up the bag and board and trooped through to Ellie’s room. Several cats, seeing the unfamiliar items, hissed. Two backed into a corner and continued to hiss and arch their backs. Four skidded from the room.

Ellie laughed. “Scaredy-cats.” But her laughter died and her eyes grew wary at all the equipment Emmet and Louisa dragged in.

“Where do you want this?” Emmet indicated the blackboard.

Louisa looked around. Stood beside the bed. At the end and then on the side farthest from the door. “This would be ideal—” Except for the bookshelf, the table and the wooden chair in the room, all of which were loaded with Auntie May’s belongings.

“I’ll move this stuff out of the way.” He shoved it into the far corner, crowding the china cabinet. “Auntie May doesn’t believe in throwing things out.”

He wondered at the way the sunshine left Louisa’s face and her eyes grew stormy.

“I suppose she finds comfort in being surrounded by familiar objects.” She kept her back to him as she cleared the top of the table and lifted the bag onto it, but he thought he detected a tightness in her voice he hadn’t noticed before. He put it down to tension at getting the room organized for teaching.

He set up the tripod, adjusted the blackboard on it then stepped back. “Looks like everything is set. I’ll leave you to it.” He edged toward the door, reluctant to leave them.

“Daddy, where are you going?” Ellie reached out, as if to stop him.

“I’ll be close by. If you need me, you only have to call.” The door was inches away, but he didn’t step through.

“We’ll be fine,” Louisa murmured, then pulled a reader from the bag and directed her attention to Ellie. “Miss Ross sent the whole set of grade-two readers so you can show me which ones you can read.”

Ellie sent Emmet a look rife with pleading and accusation. He hoped she would understand he was only doing what was best for her.

But she understood the knowledge would provide poor comfort.

Chapter Three

Louisa watched Emmet’s departure, feeling the same frightening desperation she heard in Ellie’s voice. Don’t leave us. I don’t know what I’m doing. Adele had laid out the lessons and told her what to expect. “The first thing to remember is the child may be resistant to the whole idea of having to do schoolwork while in bed. Find a way to pique her interest and curiosity.”

Sounded so easy when Adele said it. But she could do this. Louisa drew a brave breath and began. “First, I’d like you to tell me what things you like. That way we can make your lessons as interesting as possible.”

Ellie gave her a stubborn stare. “Can you bring my pony so I can ride?”

Louisa laughed softly. “I think that is outside my power. What games do you like?”

“Hide-and-seek. Racing. Climbing trees. We can’t do that either, I suppose.” Ellie boldly challenged Louisa with her words and her expression.

“You’re quite right. So let’s think of something you can do and enjoy.”

The child made a most unladylike sound. “There isn’t anything to enjoy while I’m stuck in bed.”

“Do you like reading?”

“Hate it.”

“Do you like stories?” Louisa held up two storybooks she’d enjoyed when she learned to read. The books were well-worn. “These were my two favorites at your age. They’ve been read over and over by myself and my sisters.”

A flicker of interest. Good. “You’ve got sisters?”

“Two. Madge and Sally.”

The interest died. “I’ve got my daddy.” She grew fierce. “He’d be lonely without me.”

“I’m sure he would. He’s fortunate to have you.”

Ellie nodded.

“Just as you’re fortunate to have him. Now, shall I read a story to start with?” Ease into the lessons, Adele had advised.

“I guess.” Her lack of enthusiasm was slightly dampening, but Louisa chose to ignore it, opened the book and began to read. She loved the rhythm of the words, the comfort of the familiar story, but she closed the book at the end of chapter one. “We’ll read more later, but now it’s your turn to read to me.” She handed Ellie the primer Adele thought she would be reading from by now. “Can you read me the first page?”

Ellie fixed Louisa with a stubborn frown and made no move to open the book.

Louisa flipped the pages to the first story. “Start here.”

Ellie didn’t even shift her eyes to the page.

“Ellie, please read this.”

Ellie lowered her eyes, skimmed the page and closed the book. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? Is it too hard?”

“I can’t remember.”

Louisa sighed. “What do you remember?”

“Falling out of the tree and landing wrong. You should have heard my leg. It snapped. Like this.” She clicked her tongue to imitate the sound. “I tried not to cry, but my daddy was gone.”

“Gone? Where?” Was this what he meant when he said it was his fault?

“Out working. We own a ranch, you know. He was checking the cows.”

“I see.”

“So now I have to lie in bed in this horrible cast—” She banged on it, the sound a hollow thud. “I can’t do schoolwork.”

“Of course you can work. There’s nothing wrong with your brain.”

Ellie turned away and stared at the door, as if willing Emmet to appear. And he did—sauntered past as if he had other things on his mind, but Louisa knew he was checking to make sure Ellie was okay. He paused. “Things going well?”

“Daddy.” Ellie’s voice quivered in the saddest possible way.

“Things are just fine.” Louisa grabbed a bit of chalk. “Let’s do some arithmetic now. What is the answer to this?” She wrote “1 + 1=” on the blackboard.

Emmet hesitated, watched a moment longer then moved on, and the outside door whacked shut.

“Ellie?”

The child stared clear through Louisa. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t even looking.” She tapped the blackboard.

Ellie glanced at the numbers. “Can’t remember.”

Louisa crossed her arms and faced the child squarely. “I don’t think that’s the truth. I know you know the answer to one plus one.”

They did a stubborn silent duel.

“Two.” Ellie was not happy about admitting it.

“Good. Now two plus two.”

“Where’s my daddy? I want my daddy.”

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I want my daddy.”

Louisa took two steps until she stood right next to the bed. “Your daddy is working, and you must too.”

“I’m sick.”

“No, you’ve got a broken leg.”

The big gray cat Louisa had met the day before jumped on the bed and stared into Ellie’s eyes.

Louisa laughed. “The cat is telling you to do your schoolwork.”

Ellie shoved the cat to the floor. He landed with a thud and stalked away. “I want my daddy!” Ellie yelled loudly.

Emmet crashed into the house and strode into the room. “Did you call me?”

Ellie nodded, her eyes brimming with innocent tears. “I have to go to the bathroom and Miss Morgan won’t let me.”

Emmet shot Louisa a stinging look.

Louisa wisely refrained from rolling her eyes at the child’s dramatics. Instead, she quietly headed for the door. “I’ll step out while you tend to her needs.”

She came face-to-face with Auntie May. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got in. Emmet and I were fixing the shingles.” Her eyes narrowed. “She been giving you grief?” She tipped her head toward the bedroom.

Louisa opened her mouth to answer, then realized it would be inappropriate to speak of her concerns. “We’re getting a routine established.” Heaven help her if this was the regular pattern she’d be forced to follow.

“The little one is a tad spoiled, though I suppose it’s to be expected. There’s just the two of them.”

“And you.”

Auntie May snorted. “The child barely knows me. Besides, I’m just an old spinster.” She bent to pet the cats crowding around her ankles.

Louisa wanted to see her expression. She longed to see acceptance and peace in Auntie May’s eyes. Needed to know being a spinster wasn’t an unhappy fate.

Louisa straightened her spine. She would become a happy spinster doing things to help others and bringing joy to herself as well. She’d start by showing Ellie it was fun to learn. She’d help the child deal with the boredom of her body cast. It would take more wisdom than her limited experience offered, but she could ask Adele for help, and she could pray. After all, hadn’t God said in James chapter one, verse five, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” It was one of the verses Father had Louisa and her sisters memorize.

Emmet emerged from the room. “Miss Morgan, please call me if Ellie needs to go the bathroom again.” His voice and expression clearly said what his words didn’t. He judged her unkind and unreasonable to not allow his child such basics.

“Of course.” She knew full well there was no point in saying she had asked and Ellie had denied such a need. This battle was between Ellie and herself. With renewed determination, she returned to the child’s bedside.

At noon, when she was done for the day, she’d made absolutely no progress with the planned lessons. Ellie insisted she didn’t know or couldn’t remember anything and refused to do any work.

Louisa emerged from the room, knowing her hair was mussed and her face likely flushed from frustration and fighting back tears. Why had she thought she could do this job? A bubble of self-pity whispered she was totally useless, but Louisa ignored it. Fought back. She wasn’t useless. Not in every aspect. She could help this child if Ellie allowed it.

Emmet walked her out, waiting until they were out of earshot to speak his mind. “I sense you and Ellie are not getting along.”

“Miss Ross said I might encounter resistance. After all, Ellie has lost her freedom. On top of that, everything is new. Familiar things are gone.” Let him think the latter observation came from Adele as well, even though Louisa spoke her own thoughts. “Her only defense is—” she wanted to say defiance, but doubted Emmet would appreciate such a description “—is to exert what little independence she has left. I believe she will soon tire of it and find there are more enjoyable ways to pass the time.”

He looked doubtful. Louisa feared he would tell her not to return. But after several seconds’ consideration, he sighed heavily. “You’re right about one thing. She’s lost everything. She can hardly be blamed for feeling out of sorts.”