In His Eyes. Gail Gaymer Martin
his eyes added something new to his character.
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel when she saw the log cabin. She pulled into the driveway, sending up a prayer that God would give her guidance and soften her attitude.
She sat a moment, thinking of her feelings—pride, hurt, dismay. Connor had wounded her and left her disillusioned. But she’d rebounded, dating one man, then another, never feeling drawn to any of them, but longing to get even with Connor for his rejection.
Connor’s rejection had been the first, but not the last. Only last year she’d thought she had found another man who’d expressed his love and devotion. A few months ago, she’d learned he’d cheated on her. Her skin crawled with the memory.
That day, Ellene had realized that few men could be trusted. She didn’t need a man. Today she was determined to work for her father and make him proud.
As she headed up the driveway, the side door opened. Connor peeked out and grinned. “Cold, isn’t it?” His brown-and-white checkered shirt beneath a deeper brown sweater gave him a homey charm.
She couldn’t help but grin back at his stupid question. “You could have waited until May for this.”
“Not really. I want to get settled here during the summer when Caitlin is out of school.”
Caitlin. The name whacked her in the chest. As she stepped inside, she gave the room a quick scan, expecting the child to be there. But she wasn’t in sight, and the fact aroused Ellene’s curiosity.
She covered her discomfort by surveying the open space of the great room, dining and kitchen all in one. “I’d forgotten how nice this is,” she said, admiring the expansive room. “You have lots of space to work with. I like it.”
“I like it, too, but it’s the—”
“I hate it here!”
The child’s shout pierced their subdued conversation, followed by the sound of a crash above their heads as if she’d thrown something across the room.
“Sorry,” Connor said. “She’s having one of her bad days.”
“You never let me do anything,” Caitlin bellowed down the staircase.
Ellene flinched at the child’s frustration.
Connor walked to the narrow opening and called up the stairs. “Caitlin, stop it. We have company.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want any company.”
“She doesn’t mean it,” he said, looking at Ellene with contrition in his eyes. He turned and bolted up the stairs, and Ellene waited, listening to the commotion from above.
Finally it quieted, except for a child’s sobs. Ellene’s heart wrenched at the sound.
Connor’s footsteps thudded down the stairs and paused at the bottom. “Sorry. This is too common lately.”
Ellene felt at a loss. “What do you do?”
“Let her cry it out. I don’t know what else to do. To be honest, once in a while I’d like to give her a good spanking, but that’s not what she needs.”
His comment sparked her curiosity. “What does she need?”
“A mother to give her more attention than I can.”
Ellene felt a shudder course through her, and she clasped her handbag tighter to her body. The sorrow she felt for Connor at that moment overwhelmed her. “It must be hard for you.” She tilted her head toward the staircase. “What do you do when she acts out this way?”
“She’s in time-out with threats of no TV.”
“No TV? I suppose that’s a good punishment.”
He nodded. “Caitlin’s shy and hasn’t made friends around here yet. TV’s her major form of entertainment.”
As he stepped forward, a disconcerted look registered on his face. “I really apologize for all this.” He extended his hand. “I didn’t even take your coat.”
Ellene slipped it from her shoulders and handed it to him.
“Have a seat. I’ll make some coffee.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said, rattled by the child’s problems and her own sensations.
Ellene’s emotions flew to opposite poles—pity and envy. If she and Connor had married, they might have had a daughter. Then she would be a mother, not knowing what to do either with an unhappy child.
While Connor strode into the kitchen area, Ellene settled into a chair and gazed through the glass door to the large porch and the channel beyond, weighing her thoughts and calming her discomfort while Conner put on a pot of coffee. When he finished he headed across the room to Ellene.
“I want to make things better for Caitlin,” he said, sinking into the chair across from her. “She’ll make friends eventually, once she starts school here. Aunt Phyllis will be good for her. Caitlin needs a woman in her life, and even though…”
Connor’s voice melded into Ellene’s muddied thoughts. Caitlin needed a woman—but, as Connor had just said, the girl needed a mother. Every child deserved to be loved and nourished by a mother-figure. Ellene recalled Connor’s elderly aunt. She had been a nice woman, but would she be able to deal with the energy and needs of a young, lonely child?
“I shouldn’t be yakking so much,” Connor said, his voice impinging into her reverie. “You don’t want to hear my problems.”
Ellene hadn’t heard them, except she understood his frustration. “I feel for you, Connor. Being a parent is a big responsibility.”
“And being a single parent is even bigger.”
Ellene nodded, not knowing what else to say. They gazed at each other until she became uneasy. “I suppose we should get down to business.”
“Right. The business.” The scent of coffee filled the air, and Connor rose again, pulled down three mugs from the cabinet and grabbed a packet from a nearby box.
Hot chocolate for Caitlin, Ellene guessed. Connor has a soft heart. The awareness pressed against her chest.
Connor poured the coffee and handed Ellene a cup, then strode to the staircase. “Caitlin, if you can be a good girl, you can come down for some cocoa.”
He stood a moment listening, then shrugged. But in a moment, footsteps sounded on the steps, and Ellene’s gaze shifted back to the staircase opening. In a heartbeat, a spindly child, dressed in pink sweat-pants and shirt paused in the doorway. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and an occasional hiccup let Ellene know she was controlling her sobs.
When she inched into the room, she headed straight for Connor who was putting a mug into the microwave. She reached him and buried her face into his pantleg, wrapping her arms around his leg.
“Can you say hello to Ellene?” Connor asked, resting his hand on the child’s dark-blond hair.
She didn’t raise her head but curled even closer to Conner and gave a shake.
Connor crouched and tilted her eyes to his, whispering something Ellene couldn’t hear. When he rose again, Caitlin stood straighter, watching the microwave above her head. Hearing the quiet beep, Connor pulled out the mug, added the chocolate mixture and stirred, then set it on the counter. “Let it cool a minute or you’ll burn your hands.”
He grasped his mug of coffee and headed for Ellene. “I suppose you don’t approve.” He passed the chair and sat on the couch.
She frowned, wondering what he meant.
He gave a slight tilt of his head toward Caitlin. “Forgiving too quickly.”
Forgiving too quickly. The words shot through her as her father’s words pierced her thoughts. The Bible teaches us to forgive