Marta Perry - A Father's Promise

And he had felt it, too. She knew it. He’d drawn away from her, looking as if danger signals flashed in front of his eyes.

Well, she wasn’t going to get that close again. She’d keep this on a strictly businesslike basis.

Leigh inspected herself as best she could in the rearview mirror. Given the fact that nobody on the island dressed up in the summer except for church, she’d done the best she could to look professional.

She smiled. Her former supervisor at the school in Philadelphia certainly wouldn’t consider a denim skirt and cotton sweater dressed for success. But on the island it was practically formal wear.

Somehow she suspected it was what she said and felt rather than what she wore that would either keep this situation under control or let it spin into something else. It was bad enough that she’d let herself be drawn into working with Sarah. It would be far worse if she let herself feel anything for Daniel.

For an instant her hands tightened on the steering wheel, and then she closed her eyes in a brief prayer—for wisdom, for detachment, for God’s will.

She opened her eyes. She was as ready as she’d ever be. She got out and started for the family side of the rambling old house. The other side, where the inn sign creaked in the breeze, was dark.

Daniel opened the door before she had a chance to knock.

“Leigh.” He stood back, holding it wide. “Come in. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Maybe she was imagining the warmth in his voice. She certainly wasn’t imagining the fact that the professional chat she’d planned was going to be difficult when he looked so…appealing.

His dark hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and his skin glowed with vitality against the clear aqua of his cotton sweater. The wariness had vanished from his eyes, at least for the moment. He was as relaxed as she’d ever seen him. So why did that make her nervous?

She glanced into the living room. Soft light from the table lamps spilled onto a sofa that was piled with colorful cushions. File folders covered the coffee table.

“Joe left some coffee for us. Okay?”

“Sounds good.” She visualized the two of them, side by side on that soft couch. “I can come into the kitchen…” A nice bright kitchen seemed somehow better for her peace of mind.

But he shook his head. “I’m all set up in the living room. Besides, I might not hear Sarah call from back there.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She wandered into the living room while he pushed through the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

He hadn’t invited her to look through the files yet, so she resisted the urge to flip them open, though her fingers itched to do so. Instead she moved around the room, wondering at it.

The furniture was old enough to be battered and not old enough to be called antique. Someone had made an effort to make the room appealing, painting the walls a pale cream and disguising mismatched upholstered pieces with bright cushions. Daniel’s handiwork? Or had his wife done that before she left?

She’d seen the photograph on the bookcase the moment she walked in the room. It drew her irresistibly. She picked up the heavy pewter frame.

The woman who stared back at her had been caught by the camera in the doorway of this room, hands out to the frame on either side. Dark auburn hair spilled in curls to beyond her shoulders, framing a porcelain, heart-shaped face. The woman’s eyes were lit with some emotion…was it love? Her parted full lips seemed about to speak.

“That was my wife. Ashley.”

Leigh winced at the sound of Daniel’s voice. The last thing she’d wanted was to be caught prying. She set the frame back in place, as if it was terribly important that it be exactly as it had been.

Then she turned to Daniel. “She was very lovely.”

Daniel concentrated on finding room for the coffee on the laden table. He didn’t so much as glance toward the photograph.

Did he keep it out all the time, a reminder of the wife who’d left him? Perhaps it had just been out since Sarah had come, to help her remember her mother.

“Yes,” he said after the silence had stretched on too long. “She was beautiful.”

He said it as though it didn’t give him much pleasure.

“When did she—” Leigh stopped, appalled at herself. She had no right to ask a personal question, not when she was trying so hard to keep this professional.

Daniel poured coffee into a cup and handed it to her, drawing her over to the couch. “Three months ago.”

He bit off the words, and Leigh was sure he wouldn’t say more. She certainly wouldn’t ask him.

He poured his own coffee, sat down and frowned at nothing in particular. “She was killed in a car accident.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for him, sorry for Sarah, sorry she’d brought it up.

“Ashley always wanted to be a singer.” Daniel’s voice flattened. He might have been talking about someone he’d never known. “When she left the island, she started taking singing jobs wherever she could find them. Every one was going to be her big break.” His fingers tightened on the cup, and she realized the apparent detachment didn’t exist. “She went head-on into a bridge abutment on her way back from a club job in Columbus.”

Tell me how to deal with this, Lord. I’m in over my depth. She sat down next to him, as if the mere presence of another human being might help.

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