A Heart's Blessing - Linda Ford Page 0,9

didn’t. If doing something stupid made her forget her pain for even a moment, then it was worth it.

“A little butter on your burns might help ease the pain.” She pointed to the butter dish.

He almost dipped his finger in the butter then felt Kent watching him and used a knife to get enough to smear on his fingers.

He looked up in time to catch a look on Miss Morton’s face that made him stand up straight. Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting. He had no idea where the words were found, but they echoed through his head.

Chased closely by his own words. Well, Miss Morton, I will prove to you that I am capable of assisting you until your ankle heals.

Delcie didn’t want Mr. Remington in the kitchen. Didn’t want his help. Didn’t want his presence. If only her ankle didn’t hurt like a thousand hot needles jabbed into it she would protest even more than she had. Please God, let it only be a sprain. Let it be better in the morning.

Sally began to cry softly.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Delcie asked. “Come here.” Maybe she only wanted a hug.

“Miss Rags is sad.”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

“That man is mad at her.” She looked at Mr. Remington, making it clear who she meant.

“Why would he be angry?” Delcie asked, though Sally had every reason to think it was so.

“’Cause we weren’t ’posed to go there.”

Mr. Remington blinked. He opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyes darkened.

Delcie watched. Was he upset at Sally’s innocent conclusion?

“Come here, Sally,” Delcie said. A hug would usually put the child right.

Sally shook her head and went to Mr. Remington. “Miss Rags is sowwy.”

“I’m not angry with you.” The man’s voice seemed strained, as if he had to force the words out.

“Miss Rags finks you are.”

“Tell her I’m not.”

“You tell her.”

Mr. Remington looked past the child, past the cupboard, and seemed to look past the present. His chest rose and fell twice then he brought his gaze back to Sally and her doll. “Miss Rags, I am not angry at you. Sally, I’m not angry at you either.”

“Miss Rags wants a kiss.”

Mr. Remington jerked like he’d been hit.

“Sally,” Delcie softly called. “He doesn’t want to—”

Sally’s bottom lip trembled. “Pwease.” She lifted the doll toward Mr. Remington.

The man swallowed then leaned over and kissed the doll.

Sally beamed. “Now me.” She held out her arms to be lifted.

Delcie half rose, intending to intervene. This was not appropriate. Her child and a strange man.

Before she could even get to her feet, Mr. Remington lifted Sally and held her with enough ease that Delcie knew it wasn’t the first time he’d held a child. He kissed the top of Sally’s head and put her back on the floor before Delcie could find her voice.

Sally sang as she ran back to the chair and put Miss Rags on it.

Delcie wanted to protest. But what could she say after the fact? Especially when Sally was so happy?

A thousand arrows dug into her heart. She must be cautious. She must keep a close eye on the children. Nothing bad could be allowed to happen. No one could be allowed to threaten or harm them.

Mr. Remington rubbed his hands up and down his sides and looked out the window.

Laura returned from the other room. “I expect we’ll have people coming for supper soon.” She hurried to the stove and checked the potatoes that were already mashed and keeping warm. She stirred the gravy.

“You wait on the dining room and I’ll serve the food here.” Delcie said it with far more confidence than she felt.

“I intend to help.” Mr. Remington went to Laura’s side. “Just tell me what to do.”

Laura shied away. Mr. Remington’s eyebrows rose. No doubt wondering why Laura was so nervous at his nearness. Poor Laura had her reasons for not trusting men, just as Delcie had hers for being suspicious of their motives.

“I’m sure we can manage just fine.” Laura’s words held a warning. Stay away from us. But either Mr. Remington didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

The dining room door opened. Booted feet thudded across the floor. The sound of several boots. A shuffle of chairs pulled out and adjusted.

“Hadn’t you better go take the orders?” Mr. Remington’s voice was very low.

Laura sent an appealing look to Delcie. Delcie wanted to add her protest to Laura’s, but the dining room door opened again and more booted feet thudded in. “It sounds like we’ll