“Not on the golf course.” He nudged the pastor with his elbow, and Logan hid a grin behind a cough as the padre winked at him and Jeannette. “I’m glad I ran into you both today. I wanted to say thanks again for the tutoring, Jeannette, and for the job you gave Mariam, Logan. I understand Thomma is also training your pup.”
“Yes—and doing an exceptional job. I think the man is a dog whisperer.”
“Is that right?” Reverend Baker chimed back in. “I have another member of the congregation with a recalcitrant puppy. I wonder if she might want to enlist Thomma’s aid once he finishes your job.”
“Let’s mention it to him during our visit. And now I’m off for a doughnut.” Father Murphy lifted his hand in farewell and wove through the clusters of churchgoers in the vestibule toward the fellowship hall.
“I best be off too.” Reverend Baker waved at another departing congregant. “I have to turn off a few lights in the church and stop in at the house. But first let me add my thanks to Kevin’s. You two have gone above and beyond helping our deserving family.”
“Mariam and Thomma have done far more for me than I’ve done for them, Reverend. Jeannette’s the one who’s gone above and beyond.” Logan gestured toward the woman across from him.
“Indeed she has.” The man took her hand. “May the Lord bless you both—and you too, young lady.” He squeezed Molly’s fingers.
As he returned to the sanctuary, Jeannette pulled out her keys. “I have to get home.”
“If you change your mind about joining us for a walk—or you’re in the mood for some visitors later—we’ll be heading down to the beach about six thirty.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. You two enjoy your day.”
Molly watched her walk away, emitting a wistful sigh. “She’s nice.”
“Yes, she is.”
“I wish she wasn’t sad.”
So Molly had picked up on that too. “What makes you think she’s sad?”
His niece shrugged. “Sometimes her smile doesn’t get up to her eyes.”
Never again would he underestimate the perceptive powers of a five-year-old.
He surveyed the thinning crowd in the foyer. This wasn’t the place he’d planned to broach heavier subjects with Molly, but if she was in a talking mood it might be wise to take advantage of the opportunity.
“I wonder why she’s sad.” He kept his tone conversational.
His niece studied the tips of her Sunday shoes. “She said she misses the people she loved. Like I do.”
Throat tightening, Logan brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “Where did the people she loved go?”
“I don’t know. Away.”
That must be all she knew—but as long as they were talking about loss, he ought to follow his neighbor’s advice about sharing what was in his own heart.
He dropped down to one knee beside her and tipped her chin up with one finger. “It’s hard when people you love go away. I miss Nana and your daddy every single day. And I miss my own daddy too, even though he’s been gone a long time. But they always stay in my heart.” He touched the left side of his chest.
“Sometimes . . .” She sniffed and wiped her hand under her nose. “Sometimes my tummy hurts when I think about Nana. Like it’s empty.”
“Mine too.”
She shuffled one of her feet and dropped her chin again. “I don’t remember my daddy very good.” Her soft voice quavered. “But Nana showed me pictures of him and told me stories.”
“I know stories about your daddy too.”
She met his gaze, the blue of her irises an exact match for her dad’s—and his. “Could you tell me some?”
“Sure.” Why hadn’t he thought about doing that weeks ago? “I can start tonight while we take our walk on the beach.” Where the seclusion and quiet would be much more conducive to building rapport than the busy vestibule of the church. “How does that sound?”
“’Kay.” She watched the people strolling toward the doorway that led to the fellowship hall. “Can we get a doughnut?”
“I think that would be a fine Sunday treat.” He stood.
But before he could follow his usual pattern and take her hand, she tucked her small fingers into his.
He froze.
That was a first.
And it had to be a positive sign—didn’t it?
Or would everything go back to the status quo once they got home?
Impossible to know—and he was done predicting the course of his relationship with Molly. Nothing had gone as he’d expected, and the breakthrough he’d been certain he’d made the night she’d let him stay with her after he found her crying had ended up being a bust.
This could be the same.
But as they strolled toward the hall, a surge of warmth and optimism percolated through him, lifting his spirits.
Even if they weren’t making any real progress, why not enjoy these small victories?
And who knew?
If he could string together enough brief positive moments, in the long term they would add up . . . and perhaps become a way of life.
At least he could hope—and pray—for that outcome.
Resist, Jeannette. You have plenty to do to clean up after today’s tea. Quit standing here watching your neighbors trek down to the beach.
But she couldn’t help herself.
Especially after they both glanced her direction as they walked along the perimeter of the lavender beds, Toby straining at the leash.
And the last vestige of her resistance melted after Molly stopped and pointed to the house.
She was probably asking about the kitten.
Why not let the child take a quick look at Button? What harm could there be in that? She—and her uncle—had been involved in the rescue, after all.
Before she could change her mind, she crossed to the door and pulled it open.
“Hi!” She waved at the pair as they approached the end of her property.
Logan and Molly pivoted in unison. Delight suffused the child’s face, but beyond his obvious surprise, Logan’s expression was harder to decipher.
“Would you like to peek in on Button?”
She couldn’t hear what Molly said to her uncle in response to her question, but a few seconds later she was towing him toward the house.
Logan didn’t appear to be resisting—and she’d be willing to bet it wasn’t because he was all that interested in the cat’s condition.
A delicious tingle ran up her spine . . . which she immediately squelched.
That reaction was not appropriate.
“Hi.” Logan lifted a hand in greeting as he approached. “You made a little girl’s day—and in the interest of full disclosure, a big boy’s day too.”
O-kay. That bit of candor had come out of the blue.
Since she hadn’t a clue how to respond, she ignored his comment and motioned them in. “I’m keeping Button in the kitchen. It’s the warmest room in the house, and the closest to his food.”
Logan tied Toby’s leash to the patio table umbrella—and the pup expressed his displeasure with a loud howl.
“Sorry, boy—you can complain all you want, but you’re staying out here.”