In His Eyes Read online

  After dressing, Ellene headed into the kitchen and faltered in the doorway. Caitlin sat at the table, eating a piece of toast. “I came over to play,” she said.

  “I can’t play today, Caitlin. I have work to do.”

  The child’s lip stuck out for a moment, and then drew back in. “I’ll watch you.”

  Ellene closed her eyes a moment to calm her thoughts. “Won’t your daddy miss you?”

  She shook her head. “Aunt Phyllis is babysitting me while daddy runs some errands.”

  Ellene glanced toward Connor’s aunt.

  She turned from the stove. “He went to the hardware for batteries and candles. The electrical lines are icing over, and that can mean we may have some downed lines.”

  Dandy. Now she’d be stranded with Connor in candlelight. Heavenly Father, what is happening here? “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, trying to sound casual for Aunt Phyllis’s sake.

  “We’ll survive.”

  You may, but will I? “Speaking of errands,” Ellene said, “if the ferry doesn’t open soon, I’ll need to find a store to buy some clothes.”

  “There’s a couple nice shops in town,” Phyllis said. “Stores open about ten, I think.”

  “Have you heard anything new about the ferry?”

  “Still closed. I called this morning.”

  Ellene kept her mouth shut. She strode to the coffeemaker and grabbed a cup from the hook, then poured. The acrid scent told her the coffee had been made awhile ago, but she added milk and took a sip. Strong, but tolerable.

  “Would you like some eggs?” Phyllis asked.

  “No thanks. I’m not really hungry.”

  Caitlin continued to watch her with wide eyes, apparently hoping she’d give in and entertain her.

  “Where are the paper and crayons I bought you?”

  “Over there.” She gave a little toss of her head.

  Ellene noticed the items on a chair seat where Caitlin’s coat hung on the back. “How about drawing a picture and coloring it while I do some work?”

  Caitlin thought about the suggestion, then slid off the chair and brought back the pad of paper and crayons, settling as near as possible to Ellene.

  While Caitlin concentrated on the drawing, Ellene opened the laptop and found an outlet to plug it into. She opened her software program and clicked a correspondence folder, then opened the first file and scanned the contents.

  Ellene heard the scrape of a chair leg and glanced up. Aunt Phyllis sat adjacent to her, sipping a coffee and eyeing her as if she had something to say.

  Ellene smiled and went back to her work, hoping to discourage conversation. Pepper dodged in and out of her legs, which was distracting enough.

  “This is you,” Caitlin said, turning the letter-size notepad toward her so she could see the picture. The child had drawn a stick figure with squiggles of dark curls and big fuzzy slippers.

  “Very nice. Thank you,” Ellene said, turning back to the computer.

  “You can keep it.”

  “Great. I’ll get it when I’m finished.”

  “Speaking of finished,” Phyllis said, “what happened between you and Connor to break off your engagement?”

  The question smacked Ellene between the eyes. She sat dumbfounded, trying to decide how to answer the question or how to avoid answering with Caitlin present.

  “Things happen,” she said after a grand pause.

  “What things? You two seemed like peas in a pod.”

  “Maybe that was the problem. We were too close.”

  Phyllis’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t be too close. The Bible says, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.’ One flesh is pretty close.”

  Ellene felt stymied. She sensed no answer would make Connor’s aunt happy. “We argued, I guess. It was so long ago.”

  “Any relationship is made up of differing opinions. Arguments are healthy. They keep a person on his toes, and they teach patience. Remember the Lord says to be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. I don’t think you worked hard enough.”

  Worked hard enough? “I know relationships aren’t always perfect, but they should be close to perfect.”

  Aunt Phyllis pursed her lips. “Relationships are difficult, but God said that it’s not good for man to be alone. He meant woman, too. Life’s too lonely without a partner.”

  “I’ve done okay by myself.”

  “You think so?”

  Ellene felt her eyes widen. “I’m happy with my work. I do my job well.”

  “The Lord expects the wife to work for her husband. She works late into the night and makes a good home for her family so her husband is respected.”

  “What about the wife?”

  “She’s loved.”

  Ellene lowered her head like a child being punished. She didn’t like being attacked—not attacked exactly—she felt cornered. “It just wasn’t meant to be with Connor and me.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Ellene glanced at Phyllis and then Caitlin. The child appeared focused on her drawing, to Ellene’s relief. “Why would you say that?”

  “How do you think you got here?”

  “I asked my father the same question. Connor asked for me. He said he trusted my work.”

  “I don’t mean that. You’re stranded on the island. Why did that happen?”

  Awareness prickled up Ellene’s arms. “The ice jammed.”

  “Who jammed the ice?” She lifted her index finger and pointed toward the ceiling.

  Ellene followed the direction of her finger and stared at the white paint above her head. God? Had God really done this to her?

  Caitlin’s head had tilted upward toward the ceiling, too, as if expecting to see something there.

  God, this isn’t funny.

  Connor paced his cottage, amazed at the envy he felt. Caitlin practically lived at his aunt’s where Ellene had holed herself up, he knew, to avoid him. They had to talk. He hadn’t wanted to get into all the details of their breakup, but maybe admitting his weakness would strengthen their friendship. Right now, he’d be grateful for that.

  The snow drifted down as he stepped outside, and the temperature had not let up. The ice jam was firmer than it had been. Ellene’s escape seemed thwarted at every turn.

  When he knocked and opened his aunt’s door, Pepper shot from the house like a missile. Connor grabbed for the dog’s collar, missed and slipped to the ground as his ire rose. “You dumb dog,” he shouted.

  Pepper skidded to a stop and bounded back, his tongue swiping at Connor’s face.

  “Get away from me, you mutt.”

  Laughter billowed from the house, and Connor looked up and saw Caitlin watching him while holding open the storm door. Before he could rise, she was joined by his aunt and Ellene.

  His fall had served one positive purpose. Ellene grinned at him as he struggled to rise on the slippery ground. Pepper was still nearby, so Connor captured him and hooked the chain in the yard on his collar before going inside.

  “You need to get a fence around this place, Aunt Phyllis, if you’re going to keep that dog. He’ll be out on the road and gone before you know it.” That idea didn’t sound bad to Connor, but he knew his aunt would be in a tizzy, and he had to weigh one evil against the other.

  Aunt Phyllis ignored his plea as she studied the thermostat. “I turned this down to conserve oil, but it’s too cold in here. I’m afraid the oil will run out, and I don’t want the pipes to freeze.”

  After he’d checked the meter a few days earlier, Connor had figured her oil supply wouldn’t last, and he suspected they would have to pool resources. He prayed he had enough oil to keep his cottage warm until the channel opened.

  “Let me check,” he said. “Caitlin held the door wide open. Maybe it’s just a chill from outside.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, “I turned it down really low.” />
  “I’ll look,” he said, reaching for the door handle and stepping outside.

  As he headed for the tank, the terrier skipped around his feet until he ran out of chain. When Connor eyed the meter, it read very low. He eyed the mutt, realizing that not only Aunt Phyllis and Ellene would now be his house guests, but the irritating dog.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like animals. He did. He liked dogs—just not ones who licked his face and who tried to make an escape every time a door opened.

  “Bad news,” he said, stepping inside. “Time to consolidate. You’ll have to move over to my place, and we’ll leave this very low and have to pray your pipes don’t freeze.”

  He sidled a look at Ellene and saw her tense expression. Now, he’d never have a chance to talk unless he could get her away without Caitlin or his aunt around. The possibility seemed dubious.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” his aunt said. “We’ll get our things and be over. I’m stiff as a board with this cold.”

  She wasn’t the only thing stiff as a board, he noted as he looked at Ellene’s rigid stance. It had dawned on him she was trying with every ounce of strength to stay aloof, but he saw in her eyes, she was losing ground. Maybe God had found a way to intercede. Connor longed to hear her admit she was at fault for their breakup and not him.

  Remorse struck Connor without warning. He’d talked with her about Caitlin’s admiration of her and the possible effect. Could she be protecting Caitlin as much as herself? The question wavered in his thoughts.

  Connor left and headed to the house. He’d have to work out sleeping arrangements. He could give Ellene his bed, let Aunt Phyllis sleep with Caitlin, and he’d have the sofa. Connor pictured his lengthy frame scrunched on the sofa, and for the first time since the storm, he hoped the ferry service reopened soon.

  Ellene put away the dinner dishes and occasionally glanced at Caitlin, whose nose was pressed against the windowpane.

  “It’s still snowing,” Caitlin said, her voice beginning to sound whiny. Ellene had come to know that tone and longed to find a better way for the child to express her wants.

  Ellene weighed what she knew. Anticipating Caitlin’s desires might be a boon to solving the problem. If Caitlin realized people understood her wishes, the child might learn that she only needed to express what she wanted without whining.

  “Does that mean you’d like to play in the snow?”

  Caitlin did a slow turn. “To make a snowman.”

  “It’s too cold,” Connor said, reaching for the TV remote to change the station.

  Ellene gave Caitlin a wink and wandered to Connor’s side. She sat on the sofa arm to get his attention. It worked.

  “It is cold,” he repeated.

  Ellene lowered her voice. “I know, but she’s been so good and cooped up for the past few days. She needs to burn some energy. I’ll go out with her.”

  Connor’s eyebrows raised. “You?”

  “Me, if I can find something for my feet.” She turned toward Aunt Phyllis and raised her voice. “What size are your boots?”

  “Mine?”

  Ellene nodded. “I’d like to go out with Caitlin for a while.”

  “They’re eights.”

  “Close enough,” Ellene said. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Caitlin needs a little fun.”

  Ellene gave Connor what she hoped was a haughty look. At least she and Aunt Phyllis were on the same page—although that possibility set her on edge.

  Caitlin beamed and leaped away from the window to find her boots before bounding up the stairs to her room.

  Ellene grasped Conner’s aunt’s boots and set them in front of her. Since she had been wearing most of his aunt’s other clothes, she might as well wear her boots, too, she figured. She slipped one on her foot, then the other, noting they were a bit loose. They would have to do.

  Ellene eyed Connor lounging on the sofa, seemingly, without a care in the world. “What are you doing about your job?” she asked.

  He glanced at her, punching the TV remote to a new channel. “I called this morning.”

  “And that’s it? They don’t care how long you’re stranded?”

  “They care, but I can’t do anything about it, and neither can they.”

  Connor folded his arms and leaned back, his eyes focused on the television. She saw him sending her an occasional look, but she ignored him.

  When Caitlin came down the stairs, she carried her scarf and mittens. Ellene pulled the child’s jacket from a hook near the door, and in moments, they were ready.

  “Do you have gloves and a scarf?” Aunt Phyllis asked, eyeing her bare head.

  “I have leather gloves.”

  “They won’t do,” she snorted.

  She reached into the arm of her jacket and pulled out a plaid scarf and mittens from her pocket. “Here, and don’t get them too wet.”

  Ellene hid her smile. “I’ll take care of them as if they were mine.” Although she wondered how a person built a snowman without getting gloves wet.

  The terrier stood, nose to the door jamb, waiting to make his escape. Ellene’s heart softened. “I’ll take the dog out for a while if that’s okay.”

  “Just keep an eye on him,” Phyllis said.

  “Will do.”

  The dog bounced at her heels as they stepped into the deepening snow. The ground was slippery beneath, but Ellene drew in a breath of icy air, pleased to see Caitlin’s exuberance.

  They worked together, rolling a large ball for the bottom of the snowman, then began another when she heard the door open and saw Connor stepping outside, donned in his jacket and gloves.

  “Daddy, look what we’re doing,” Caitlin sang out.

  He waved and ambled toward them.

  “Couldn’t resist the fun?” Ellene asked.

  The dog leaped around Connor’s feet, and Ellene waited for him to trip again. Instead, Connor sidestepped the animal, bent down and caught his collar. “Time for the chain,” he said, tethering the dog. “For his safety.”

  “Whose safety? I saw you on the ground.”

  “True,” he said, closing the distance between them.

  He reached out and caught her coat collar, and before she knew what he’d done, she felt the icy snow slip beneath her sweater.

  “You rat,” she said, facing him with a handful of snow from the ball she’d been making. She gave it a toss, but she missed.

  While he bent to grab another handful, she charged him with the ball she had hidden and thrust it down his neck. Caitlin joined in, and the snowman-making project turned into a snowball fight.

  Connor charged her, wrapped his arms around her body and drew her close, using his fingers to pry open her hands. She breathed hard from the struggle, and when she looked up, his mouth was only inches from hers.

  His scent mingled with the crisp air, and she felt her heart skip.

  Connor’s smile faded while his gaze probed hers. She tried to hide her feelings, but she could tell from his look he’d guessed that the closeness had sent her back in time.

  Unaware of their emotional struggle, Caitlin squeezed between them, wriggling and laughing to be part of the fray. Connor lowered his arms and lifted Caitlin into his embrace as if she could provide the barricade to keep their emotions in check.

  Why had she allowed this to happen? She’d let down her guard. It was too easy to do that here at the cottage. Too many memories. Too many good times. Too little protection from the past.

  Connor wrestled with Caitlin, teasing her with handfuls of snow and dodging her attempts to plop a glob of wet stuff down his jacket.

  The terrier’s yipping brought Aunt Phyllis to the door, and soon they were back to finishing the forgotten snowman. By the time they’d finished, dusk had settled, and the white snow looked gray and purple in the muted light.

  Connor carried Caitlin into the house, and Ellene stood outside a moment, sensing that her determination to stay aloof was sinking as surely as the win
ter sun.

  Chapter Eight

  Ellene rolled over and felt Caitlin’s warm body at her side. The little girl had cuddled to her during the night, and Ellene had a difficult time sleeping, not from the closeness but from a maternal longing that smothered her.

  Connor had had other sleeping arrangements in mind, but Caitlin had her own. She wanted Ellene to sleep in her bed with her. Connor continued to insist that his aunt use his bed, and though she was set against it, for once Connor had won the battle.

  Ellene slipped her feet out of bed and sat up, eyeing the clock. She shifted to move her feet beneath the blankets again, then changed her mind. If she got up early, she might get some work done. Aunt Phyllis’s eager conversation had been distracting, although Ellene realized the woman was lonely. She tried to accept the elderly woman’s friendly chatter, but the subject was often about relationships and forgiveness and any other topic that seemed to further her matchmaking attempts.

  Ellene dressed quietly, slipping into the same black slacks she’d worn the day she arrived, and a borrowed pullover from Connor’s aunt, then crept from the room. She tiptoed down the stairs and halted when she saw Connor sitting at the table holding a cup between his hands as if to warm them. Before she could turn and go back upstairs, he saw her.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Sofa too short?”

  He nodded. “But that wasn’t it. I was just restless.”

  She had been, too, thinking about the snow fight and their embrace that had set her on edge.

  “Coffee’s fresh,” he said, resting his cheek against his fist.

  His eyes looked sunken and tired, and she knew he’d probably sat up much of the night. She could easily sleep on the sofa and she would insist tonight if she were still held captive on the island.

  “I need to buy some clothes unless the Bramble comes to our rescue.”

  “I called this morning. Doesn’t look good. The weather forecast says we may have a break in another day or so.”

  Ellene didn’t hold stock in weather forecasts. “Then I’ll go out later and see if I can find a couple of things.”