Marta Perry - A Father's Promise

They walked along the upper reaches of the sand, but when Leigh tried to take her down to the smooth, shimmering expanse left by the outgoing tide, Sarah balked.

“No!”

That word she verbalized well enough. Leigh suppressed a smile. Most children did if they talked at all.

“Why not?” Leigh persisted. “Meggie loves to play in the water. Don’t you?”

Sarah stared at the ocean for a moment, lower lip extended. Then her hands moved. “Cold,” she signed. “Too cold.”

Fair enough. The water, warmed by southern ocean currents, seemed comfortable to Leigh, but maybe Sarah did find it cold.

The ebbing tide had left a legacy, though…an oblong, sandy tidal pool, its water warmed by the sun until it was probably the temperature of bathwater.

“Look at this.” She led the reluctant child to the pool. “Look—a Sarah-sized pool.” She knelt, then scooped a handful of water and let it trickle through her fingers. “Warm.”

Sarah clasped her hands firmly, shaking her head. No one, it was clear, would convince her to put her hands in.

Leigh kicked off her sandals, sat down and dipped her toes in the warm pool. She’d always found that the best way to work with deaf children was to bombard their senses with experiences and words. She’d never taught on a beach before, but the principle had to be the same.

“Come on, Sarah,” she coaxed. “Try it. It feels good.”

It took fifteen minutes by Leigh’s watch—fifteen minutes of coaxing, teasing and patience—before Sarah pulled off her sandals and stuck a wary toe in the water. And then it took all of about fifteen seconds for her to be romping across the pool just as Meggie would, splashing the water so that both her shorts and Leigh’s were soaked.

Grinning with a mix of pleasure and triumph, Leigh trickled water on Sarah’s bare arm. It gained her a delighted giggle, the first she’d heard.

A shadow fell across them, shutting off the sun. “What on earth are you doing?” Daniel demanded.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Daniel realized how harsh they’d sounded. He couldn’t help it. For a split second, before his brain told him Sarah was safe, he’d panicked at the sight of her in the water. He took a breath. She was okay.

Leigh stood up to her knees in the pool, her shorts thoroughly splashed, her expression wary. Sunlight glinted from droplets of salt water on her bare golden arms. Her eyebrows lifted. “Is something wrong?”

He wasn’t going to get what he wanted by biting off her head. He made a conscious effort to soften his tone.

“Sarah hasn’t gone anywhere near the water since she’s been here. I think that’s best.”

Leigh glanced from him to Sarah, who was bent over, hands on knees, looking at something in the water. “Let me get this straight. You want her to be afraid?”

“Of course I don’t want her to be afraid!” For a moment he wished he were still dealing with a teenage baby-sitter. She might be careless, but at least she didn’t argue with him. “But the surf is dangerous, and Sarah’s not used to it. Besides, she’s…”

“She’s deaf,” Leigh said quietly.

Those sea-green eyes of hers bored right into his soul.

“She’s also a bright five-year-old who should be treated like one.”

He held on to his temper with an effort. “And I’m not treating her right?”

“Well…”

It was so easy to read her expression that the edge of his anger dissolved into amusement. That was exactly what she thought, but she was too polite to say so.

“All right.” He drove a hand through his hair. “You tell me. How do I keep her safe when she can’t hear a warning?”

“That’s one of the reasons she’s wearing a hearing aid. So she can make the most of the hearing she has. She can hear things like the beep of a car horn, the screech of brakes, a train whistle. She wouldn’t have an aid unless she has enough hearing for it to make a difference.”

He jerked his head toward the surf. “No car horns out there.”

“No, but she still has to learn.” She smiled suddenly, sunlight on water. “Jamie and I grew up in the country. I can still remember our mother, every time she took us for a walk in the woods, going over her rules. ‘Never put your hands or feet where your eyes can’t see.’”

He must have looked blank. The smile became a grin.

“Because of snakes,” she said. “Mom was deathly afraid of them, but she wouldn’t let that keep us from enjoying the woods. If Sarah’s going to live near the water, she has to learn safety precautions, just as a child in the Midwest learns what to do in case of a tornado.”

“But…” His argument disappeared at the sight of Sarah. She wasn’t romping across the pool now. She’d crawled out of the water, and she lifted her arms to him, her face clouding with tears.

He bent to pick her up, his throat tightening. “Honey, it’s all right. What’s wrong?”

“She knew we were arguing.” Leigh’s lips tightened. “Kids don’t need to hear to know that. She knew you didn’t like her being in the water.”

He patted Sarah’s back, trying to hold on to his conviction that he was right about this. But he couldn’t.

“Okay.” He said it reluctantly. “You win. We’ll work out some way of teaching her what’s safe to do on the beach.”

She smiled, as if she’d known all along he’d agree. “Let’s get her back in the water again, then.”

“Joe will have lunch ready. We’d better go up. We can talk about it while we eat.”

Leigh’s mouth set. “We can’t walk away now.”

“Why not?” He tried to keep the exasperation from his tone. If she wasn’t the most stubborn woman in the world, she came close.

“Never end a session on a negative note. Right now, Sarah thinks the water is something to fear. She has to go back in again before we quit.”

For a moment he just stared at her. “You must have been quite a teacher.”

Something flickered in her eyes at that. Pain, maybe. He wondered again what was behind this determination of hers to leave teaching. He’d find out eventually, but now wasn’t the time. He sat down on the sand, plopped Sarah down next to him and began unlacing his work boots.

“What are you doing?” Apprehension colored her question, and he grinned.

“Coming in the water.” He pulled off boots and socks, then stood in the warm, shallow pool, letting the water lap his jeans to the knees. He held out his hand to Sarah. “Come on, sugar. Let’s splash Leigh, okay?”

Sarah hesitated, then scooted forward a little.

He coaxed his daughter back into the water, then watched as she ran to Leigh. Sarah’s solemn face crinkled into a smile he hadn’t seen often enough, and his breath caught.

He could give up on Leigh. Find some nice, grandmotherly type who wouldn’t do anything but sit on the porch and keep Sarah safe. But seeing Leigh with his daughter, he knew that wasn’t enough, not anymore. Somehow, he had to see that Leigh stayed with Sarah for the summer.

As for his totally unsuitable urge to run his hand along her sun-kissed cheek, well, he’d just deal with it. One thing he’d learned the hard way—he’d never give his heart to a woman again.

“More rice, ma’am?” Joe held the pottery bowl of rice and shrimp out to Leigh across the round kitchen table. She’d already suggested twice that he call her “Leigh,” but apparently it was going to be “ma’am” for a while.

“No, thanks. It was delicious.” She glanced at Sarah, who was stirring her remaining rice around on her plate. “Good, wasn’t it, Sarah?”

Leigh’d been signing throughout the meal, trying to draw Sarah into the conversation, but it had been futile. Daniel seemed uncomfortable with signing, and he used it haltingly only when he talked directly to Sarah.