A Rancher's Pride - By Barbara White Daille Page 0,41
later, filled with confidence, Kayla sailed across the kitchen with the platter of pork roast and vegetables and anchored herself in her chair at the table. It took willpower for her to eat her dinner. To chat with Becky and Sharleen throughout the meal. To keep from blurting out her idea to Sam.
As she served the peach cobbler she had baked that morning, she made sure to set a generous slice in front of him.
Soon after, Sharleen went upstairs to her room. Becky, finished with the cookies she’d chosen over the cobbler, received permission to leave the table.
Alone with Sam at last, Kayla gripped her fork, cleared her throat and jumped into speech. “I’d like to teach you some sign, so you can talk to Becky. We’re all going to be here together for a while longer, aren’t we? We might as well put the time to good use.”
He took the wind out of her sails with just one sentence. “That won’t work.”
“Of course it will.” She forced a light laugh. “After all, I’m a certified sign language teacher.” I’ll make it so easy for you, you’ll see how uncomplicated it really is to talk with your daughter.
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t have time to learn all that.”
“Of course you do,” she shot back. She’d started to sound like a talking doll whose recording had gotten stuck in the same groove. Taking a deep breath, she added slowly, “You have plenty of time. You’ve certainly proven that in the past few weeks.”
He pushed his half-eaten dessert aside. “Judge’s orders.”
So, she had been right. He’d only spent his days with them so he could prove his own case in court. The knowledge made her even more determined to go through with her plan to upstage him.
Meanwhile, they still had the communication issue to deal with. For Becky’s sake, she would give him one more chance to be reasonable. “I’ll teach you in the evenings after Becky’s gone to bed,” she insisted. “You can certainly learn some of the most basic signs. We can make it a game for her.” And for you.
“We’ve got enough games going on around here, don’t you think?”
She blinked. “What does that mean? It seems like you’re the one who’s not playing straight with everything. I saw the sign language dictionary on your desk. Obviously, you’ve got some interest in learning to sign. Why don’t you let me help you?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Grabbing his dessert plate, he stood and walked over to the sink. “I’ve got it covered.”
Not from anything she could see.
The man was impossible. He refused to do anything that would make it easier to communicate with his daughter. Why in the world did he even want custody of her? Just to prove another point—with his ex-wife?
She intended to find out, once and for all. Now. She slapped her palms on the table. Then she rose, turning to face him.
The sight of Becky standing in the doorway, a stuffed horse tucked under one arm and a wooly white lamb under the other, froze Kayla in place.
She smiled at her niece and could only hope the expression looked natural.
Sam had bought those animals the day of the parade in town, and Becky had kept them close ever since. Though it helped a little to know he cared, the toys didn’t prove much. He could have bought the gifts to impress the people in town, just as he was planning that barbecue to influence the judge. Giving gifts wasn’t the same as giving himself, something she’d never seen Sam do—and probably never would. Hadn’t he admitted the time he grudgingly spent with Becky came directly by order of the judge? And he only suffered Kayla’s presence because she refused to give up any chance to be with her niece.
What would happen in the awful event the judge awarded custody to Sam?
What kind of life would he provide for his daughter?
Through suddenly misty eyes, she looked at Becky again.
All the strategies Kayla had come up with to convince Sam to learn to sign seemed a waste of energy. The anger and contempt he felt for her didn’t matter. The spark of attraction she felt for him and couldn’t seem to put out permanently—though she’d smothered it often enough in frustration!—seemed trivial by comparison. Even the certainty that he’d felt a few sparks, too, did nothing for her now.
Everything seemed so unimportant compared to the child standing in front of them.
Her niece’s well-being counted. It was