Sunday morning.
Usually, this was the one day of the week when Rick allowed himself to stay in bed for a while, drifting in and out of a light doze until his daughters bounded across the hallway and woke him up. On this particular Sunday, though, he had other ideas. Emma’s mention of a Sunday school at the Liberty Chapel had caught his interest, and ever since then he’d been toying with the idea of attending a service there, just to see how it went.
If the girls liked it, he didn’t mind continuing to go. If not, he wouldn’t miss it, either. He had a suspicion that being ambivalent about religion wasn’t appropriate for a dad, but he wasn’t one to pretend that he valued something simply because it made him look good. He also wouldn’t keep them from going if they got something out of it. Just because he didn’t see the point didn’t mean they had to miss out on what it might have to offer them.
In his imagination, he heard Sarah’s unmistakable laughter. At least he assumed that it was his imagination. There were times when he could almost feel her presence close by, and more than once he’d wondered if that feeling was more than wishful thinking. Then the moment would pass, and he’d feel like an idiot for allowing himself to believe something so impossible, no matter how brief his lapse in common sense might have been. She’d been part of his life for so long, it was understandable that her memory would continue to influence him in some way.
At least that was what he told himself.
He flung those fanciful thoughts aside with the covers and got himself ready for a new venture that would probably prove to be a waste of time. At least he knew the Calhouns, he reasoned as he combed out his wet hair. As generous as Emma and her family had been to them so far, he had no doubt that they’d welcome his girls and him into their church with open arms.
The door across the hall stood partially closed, and he knocked before opening it the rest of the way. Caitlin stirred and rolled over to yawn at him. “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning. How’re you doing?”
“Fine. What’s up?”
“How’d you like to come to church with me?”
At the sound of his voice, Aubrey stretched out to her full length before curling up like a sleepy kitten. Blinking her eyes open, she stared over at him in confusion. “What church?”
“Emma and her family go to the Liberty Chapel near the square,” he explained. “She invited us to come by sometime, and I was thinking today might be good.”
“I like Emma,” Aubrey informed him with a yawn. “She’s so pretty and nice.”
She’d summed up his own impression of the soft-spoken artist, and he grinned. “Yeah, she is. So, would you ladies like to come with me?”
Caitlin sat up and gave him a curious once-over. “We haven’t gone to church since Mommy went to heaven.”
“I know,” he said, swallowing hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Maybe it’s time for us to try it again.”
“Because Emma will be there?”
Caitlin’s innocent question caught him by surprise, and it dawned on Rick that, in a way, that was the reason for his change of heart. “She invited us, so I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint Emma,” his older girl agreed, swinging out of bed before heading to her closet. “Come on, Aubrey. I’ll help you pick out a dress and then Daddy can do your hair.”
“Okay.”
Aubrey bounced to her feet, obviously excited by the prospect of breaking their usual mellow Sunday routine. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and Rick found himself humming while he pulled bowls and their favorite cereals from the cupboard. His usual coffee and a bagel didn’t appeal to him much lately, so he added a third setting for himself. He was halfway through a bowl of vitamin-fortified sugar when the girls joined him. They didn’t say anything, but their astonished looks clearly said that he’d surprised them with his change in routine.
They chatted while they ate, and he downed a bracing jolt of caffeine before tackling the brushing and French-braiding of two heads of long blond hair. When he was done, he sat back and smiled. “Y’know, I think I have the most beautiful daughters on the planet.”
Caitlin laughed. “You always say that.”
“Then you say how much we look like Mommy,” Aubrey chimed in, glancing over her shoulder at a picture of them with Sarah that hung on the wall. She had the expression of someone looking at a photo of a stranger, and his heart twisted with regret.
He’d done his best to keep their mother alive for them, but it killed him that his four-year-old had no personal memories of her. Every time he looked at one of his daughters, he saw the woman who’d given them every bit of love and energy she had, right until the end of her life. He only wished he could give them half as much as Sarah had. He tried, but he knew they were missing out on so much, not having a mother. They needed a woman to talk with, confide their secrets to, share their triumphs and heartaches.
He loved them endlessly, but at the end of the day, he was still a guy. It just wasn’t the same.
Pushing those pointless thoughts aside, he glanced at the clock and stood. “We don’t want to be late for our first day of church. Let’s all clean up and get ready to go.”
They followed his lead without complaint, which told him how eager they were to try something new. They were such troupers, he mused proudly while they brushed their teeth and found their shoes. So much had changed for them in the past two years, sometimes he wondered if he was asking too much of them. Days like these let him know that for all the challenges they’d faced, his sweet, resilient girls were doing fine.
The church was only a few blocks away, so they decided to walk. They weren’t the only ones, he noticed, and several families greeted them on their way up the street. The quaint white chapel was nestled beneath some of the largest, most brilliant red maples he’d ever seen. Everything in Liberty Creek dated back to the early 1820s, and it was easy to picture long-ago families walking in from their homes to attend services the same way their modern counterparts were doing now.
Similar to many of the other structures in town, the little church was a bit faded, showing some wear and tear around the tall, colorful windows. He wondered if Jordan Calhoun’s talent for stained glass would be tapped for some repairs once he got to town. The roof looked new to Rick, but some shutters that had blown off during the harsh winter were still missing, and the concrete steps could use some attention from an expert. The building reminded him of the residents of this picturesque New England town: sturdy and weathered by time.
That thought had just passed through his mind when he heard a familiar laugh and caught sight of someone who definitely didn’t fit that description. Emma Calhoun was strolling in with Lindsay and Brian, who held an adorable baby wearing a cotton candy–pink dress. A red pickup came down Main Street, slowing to come alongside the little group. Sam and his wife, Holly, were in the cab, their son, Chase, sitting between them. The two groups stopped in the middle of Main Street to chat, and Rick couldn’t help grinning. Anywhere else he’d lived, that kind of dawdling would have caused an instant traffic jam and some serious temper tantrums. Here, it was a daily occurrence, and no one seemed to think anything of it.
It was hard for him to believe that he’d gradually become accustomed to the slower pace of life here in rural New Hampshire. Not only that, he realized suddenly, he actually liked it. People took the time to enjoy their days, connecting with family and friends whenever the opportunity presented itself. Their approach to life was a major shift from the bustling, ambitious people he’d known before, and he admired them for keeping their old-fashioned values in a world that often seemed determined to destroy them.
He’d only planned on staying in Liberty Creek long enough to get the bank’s new branch solidly on its feet and then move on to the next assignment that his boss had in mind for him. But lately he’d begun pondering whether this might be a nice place to raise his girls, away from the chaos that plagued so many of the cities he’d visited, no matter where they were. Here, they could walk up the street to the park without him worrying about the traffic, because there just wasn’t that much. Quiet and unassuming, it was the kind of home that he’d never considered before, but he had to admit that it was growing on him.
Especially the people, he thought as Emma flashed them a bright smile and hurried up the sidewalk to meet them.
“Good morning!” she sang, leaning in to wrap the girls in a warm hug before straightening to gaze up at Rick. “How nice to see you all here.”
She didn’t say anything beyond that, but her sparkling blue eyes made it plain that she was delighted to see them. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had made him feel as special as Emma did. Women usually looked him over with interest, noticed his wedding band, then pulled away. Emma’s approach to him was proof that she didn’t consider him anything other than a friend, which was a refreshing change.
“You picked the perfect day to come,” she went on, leading them toward the double front doors. “Holly and Lindsay are doing Sunday school, and I hear they have something really fun planned for the kids.”
Rick had assumed that his daughters would sit with him, and he was just about to tell her that when Caitlin exclaimed, “That would be awesome!”
Aubrey, who was more reserved by nature, boldly asked, “Will Chase be there?”
“Absolutely,” Emma assured her. “He’s in charge of the snacks.”
“Last time we saw him at the bakery, he let me look at one of his animal books,” Aubrey went on in a rare show of bravery. “Do you think he brought one of them today?”
“If he didn’t, there are some in the church library. I’d imagine he’ll help you pick one out if you want.”
“I like Chase,” Aubrey announced, adding a dimpled smile. “I don’t have a big brother, but he’d be a nice one.”
Rick was stunned by her comment, but he managed to hide his shock when his shy girl glanced up at him. “Can I go to Sunday school with Caitlin, Daddy? Please?”
“Of course you can, sweetness. I think it’s a great idea.”
“You’ll make some new friends, Froggy,” Caitlin said, squeezing her around the shoulders in a big-sister gesture. “Then when you start preschool in the fall, you’ll already know some of the other kids. That will make it easier.”
Preschool. Rick barely stifled a sigh as Emma led them to a pew in the front already half filled with Calhouns. His girls were growing up so fast, sometimes he lost track of how quickly the time was slipping by.
“It goes by fast, doesn’t it?” Emma asked quietly.
He chuckled. “Was it that obvious?”
“The look on your face just now said it all. Kids have a way of growing up when we’re not looking. Sometimes my students come back to visit after they’ve gone onto the middle and high schools, and I can’t believe they’re the same people.” The petite teacher held up a hand far over her head and laughed. “I need a stepladder to look some of them in the eyes.”
“They really come back to see you?” he asked, sliding over to make room for the girls beside him.
“Some of them do. Others write or email, or text me photos of their latest projects. It’s rewarding to know that I had an impact on them when they were younger, and that as they’re growing up, they haven’t forgotten about me.”
Rick couldn’t imagine anyone forgetting Emma Calhoun after talking to her for five minutes, much less after spending years in her bright, creative classroom or after-school program. She was the kind of person who made the world a better place merely by being in it. Watching her with his own daughters had given him a close-up view of how she nurtured children’s talents, encouraging them to try new things, making them laugh.
Come to think of it, he mused as he opened a hymnal, she’d done the same for him. How she’d managed that, he wasn’t quite sure, but he definitely felt more a part of the community since he’d volunteered to help her. Apparently, she had a knack for drawing people out, no matter how young or old they were. Being more of a pragmatic person, it was a skill that he didn’t share, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a little envious of her.
In the row in front of him, the head of this raucous family turned and offered a beefy hand. “Not sure you remember, but I’m Emma’s dad. Steve Calhoun.”
“Hard to forget seeing you dangling from the rafters at the forge, installing that exhaust fan,” Rick replied as they shook. “It’s nice to see you back on solid ground.”
“Yeah, that was a project,” he commented with a chortle. “Sometimes I think Sam and Brian come up with those jobs just to see if their old man can still hack the tough stuff.”
“Aw, come on,” Brian objected. “You lost the toss for going up there, and you know it.”
The twinkle in Steve’s eyes confirmed his son’s version of the story, and he laughed. “So, how’re things at Patriots Bank these days?”
“Busy,” Rick answered proudly. “More customers come in every week, and I’ve written up several mortgages for buyers who are moving into the area. That’s not only good for business, it also tells us that people want to come here to raise their kids.”
“Which means they’ll be sticking around awhile,” Emma’s oldest brother, Sam, added with a nod. “That’s good for everyone, especially contractors like me.”
“And teachers,” Emma chimed in enthusiastically. “Which is why the school needs to find a way to keep the experienced ones we already have.”
“Amen to that,” someone behind them said. Emma turned, and the woman went on, “The Fire Department Ladies’ Auxiliary is putting a petition together to circulate at our picnic next weekend. We’re trading a free dessert for a signature from anyone over eighteen, so we’ll have plenty of support for you and the others.”
“What a fabulous idea, Gladys,” Emma approved, reaching over to clasp the woman’s gnarled hand warmly. “Thank you so much.”
“I worked in the school office for thirty-seven years,” the woman reminded her, faded eyes crinkling in a nostalgic smile. “I know how important good, caring teachers are to the kids. The future for them will be tough, and they’re going to need all the help they can get to prepare them for what’s ahead.”
They chatted pleasantly about her grandchildren and goings-on around town, the same way other people around them were doing. It occurred to Rick that the Sunday service was about more than the sermon. It was a time for busy people to get together and trade news, offer encouragement or just be together. The churches that he’d attended with Sarah had been much bigger, and they hadn’t known anyone, so other than polite exchanges with equally polite strangers, they’d mostly talked to each other. This was a different experience entirely, and he found himself warming up to the idea of making this a weekly outing for his family.
The organist started playing some warm-up chords, and the milling congregation made their way to various seats around the small chapel. It looked to him as if the families had their own sections, and he was glad to be included among the Calhoun clan. Again, he got the feeling of belonging, even though he’d never been in this church before.
The choir filed into their places behind the pastor’s lectern, and as the sunlight streamed in, he noticed the details in the beautiful stained glass window behind the simple altar. It was fairly large, and the arched shape depicted the covered bridge the long-ago Calhoun brothers had built to make access across the creek easier. Beside it was their blacksmith shop and the winding lane that had originally led into the main part of town.
Everything looked the same now, he realized, except that the road was pavement instead of dirt. Having moved several times during his own life, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live in a place that hadn’t changed appreciably since it had been founded so many generations before. The residents of this small town were a sturdy, self-reliant lot, proud of their past and doing everything they could to keep the craziness of modern existence at bay.
Ordinarily, he was all for progress, believing that if you’re not advancing, you’re retreating. But here in Liberty Creek, newer wasn’t necessarily better. It was interesting that here, in a small white chapel in the middle of the New Hampshire woods, he’d discovered a different way of looking at the world. Glancing over at his daughters, he saw their blond heads together over the pictures in a children’s book of Bible stories while their new white shoes swung in rhythm. And for the first time since moving here, he saw what he’d been hoping to see.
They were happy.
Not long ago he’d been wondering if they’d ever recover from losing their mother at such tender ages. His own mourning had been daunting enough for him to go through, but seeing them so grief stricken had broken his heart on a daily basis for months. Eventually, he got used to their unexpected bouts of sadness, the tears that had often seemed to spring up out of nowhere. Settling into their new home had been challenging, but now—finally—Caitlin and Aubrey were content.
That did more to lift his own spirits than anything else possibly could, and he glanced up toward the heaven where he’d told them their mother now lived. Watching over them, making sure they were doing well. And for the first time since her death, thinking of Sarah made him feel better instead of worse. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and looked over, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get his attention.
But there was nothing there.
He was a practical man, so it was hard for him to believe that somehow his late wife had reached out to him, comforting him with a touch. But hard as he tried, he couldn’t come up with another explanation.
So he put the odd occurrence out of his mind and focused on the words to “Old Rugged Cross.”
* * *
When it was time for the girls to go downstairs for Sunday school, Emma waved goodbye and told them to have fun. It was so cute, watching the kids follow Holly and Lindsay from the chapel in a giggling, whispering line. Caitlin and Aubrey glanced back, waving at their father as if to reassure him that they’d be fine without him. For his part, Rick watched them protectively, his eyes somber even though he grinned back at them. When they were no longer in sight, he turned his attention back to the front with an audible sigh.
“They’ll be fine,” Emma reassured him, adding a smile. “They’re also gonna have a great time with Chase and the other kids.”
He grimaced but gave a single nod, returning her smile with a half-hearted one of his own. It must be hard, she thought, being a single father when he’d planned on sharing their childhood with Sarah. Instead, he was clearly still grieving her loss, not only for himself but his girls, too.
Impulsively, Emma reached out and lightly squeezed his hand in what she hoped would come across as a comforting gesture. To her surprise, his fingers grasped hers for a brief moment before letting go. His gaze was fixed on Pastor Welch, so Emma wasn’t sure what that grip was all about. Maybe she’d imagined it.
She put the incident aside and shifted her focus to the sermon.
“Family comes in many forms,” the preacher told them, smiling as his gaze swept through the standing-room-only church. “There are those we’re born to, and those we choose for ourselves later on.” Pausing, he glanced over at his wife, who beamed back at him. Facing forward again, he went on, “The ones we select often become just as precious to us as those we were raised by, because we have the option of leaving them if we want to. When we decide to stay instead and work things through, the bond between us gets stronger. Not by chance, but by choice.”
Rick shifted in his seat, and Emma peeked over to find him nodding slightly. Apparently, something in those words resonated with him, and she was dying to know what it was. She’d never ask him about it, of course, but her curiosity was humming all the same. As someone who’d been raised with a strong faith in God and His great works, she had a difficult time understanding Rick’s self-proclaimed ambivalence about religion. If he’d been touched by the simple, direct sermon this morning, she wondered if there was a possibility that he might find his way toward embracing the faith that meant so much to her.
Her last boyfriend had been on the fence about God, and it had always been a bone of contention for them as a couple. Her cancer diagnosis hadn’t helped the situation any, and when he’d confessed to her that he couldn’t deal with it, his revelation hadn’t surprised her. Handsome and charming, he was a fun guy to be around, but she’d learned that there wasn’t much to him beyond that. In a way, his leaving had been a blessing in disguise for her. They were headed precisely nowhere, and he’d saved her the trouble of coming up with a good reason to break things off.
Rick would never abandon someone who needed him.
Where on earth had that come from? Emma wondered, feeling self-conscious about even thinking something like that. She didn’t know him all that well, but what she had learned made her confident in her assessment, even though it seemed premature for her to be making it. His devotion to his daughters was obvious, and while it pained her to see him still grieving for his late wife, she admired him for remaining true to Sarah’s memory. The gold ring that glinted on his left hand was a tribute to the life that had ended far too soon, and Emma thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard of. Sad, but sweet. Like the man sitting beside her.
Staring down at her from above, she realized with a jolt as those deep blue eyes bore into hers with a curious glint. Cocking his head, he gave her a questioning look, and she felt herself blushing as she belatedly stood up and joined the others in midchorus of “How Great Thou Art.” The last time she’d fazed out in church, she was about ten, so it was more than a little embarrassing to be caught doing it now. From the corner of her eye, she caught her mother eyeing her strangely, and she smiled back to reassure her that there was nothing wrong.
When they all sat back down, Pastor Welch began the announcements with the usual birthdays, anniversaries and upcoming events happening around town. Then he put his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers and let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. “As many of you know, our little church is in need of some love these days. While God’s grace fills this room, He’s left it up to us to keep the walls of His house in good condition. There’s a clipboard going around now, and I hope you’ll all take a close look at it to see which jobs you’d be qualified to help us with. We need everything from construction and painting to refreshments and willing hands for cleanup, so there are spots for everyone to fill, whatever your abilities might be.”
While he went on with other news, the sheets went through the congregation, row by row. When Rick flipped through to write his name on the Painting page, Emma raised her eyebrow in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“I worked my way through college painting houses,” he shot back with a grin.
“So you’re more than just a nice suit and a fancy briefcase?”
He took the teasing with a good-natured grin. “I guess that’d depend on who you ask.”
A laugh burst free before she could stop it, which earned her some disapproving looks from the people seated nearby. Mouthing “Sorry,” she took the clipboard from him and passed it along.
“Nothing there for you?” he asked quietly.
“The high school art teacher and I are working on the mural in the back of the sanctuary,” she explained, nodding toward the fading artwork on the rear wall. “It’s the original, and it really needs to be properly cleaned and retouched so it will last another two hundred years.”
“You know how to do something like that?”
His question irked her for some reason, and she straightened to her full height beside him. “Yes, I do. I went to college, too, you know.”
“I do know,” he assured her in an apologetic tone. “And I’m impressed that your talents include restoring art as well as creating it.”
Well, that was different, she conceded, feeling a bit foolish for getting her back up over nothing. People misjudged her often enough, she should be used to it by now. It could be vexing, being Sam and Brian’s little sister, judged by people who’d known her since the day she was born. Sometimes she pondered what it would be like to move away and start over in a place where no one knew her or her family and had no preconceived notions about her and what she was capable of.
Rick had done that, she reasoned, making his own way, furthering his career while he raised his daughters. It had turned out well for him, and she couldn’t help speculating if she might be able to do the same for herself.
She’d never seriously considered making a life anywhere other than Liberty Creek. Familiar and comfortable, this sleepy, tight-knit community was all she’d ever known. While she didn’t picture herself in the bedlam of New York City or Boston, there were other, smaller cities with vibrant artistic communities that appealed to her. During her college years, she’d visited New Haven, Connecticut, and Providence, Rhode Island, with her friends. She’d loved spending time in the galleries and museums, envisioning her own work hanging on their walls. In her hometown, she’d always be sweet little Emma Calhoun, the elementary school art teacher. Until her job had been put on the chopping block, she’d always assumed that she’d spend her entire career here.
But what if Rick’s efforts failed and she was forced to start over again somewhere else? Now that she’d stared that monster in the face, the concept didn’t seem quite as scary to her as it had at first. A devoted optimist, she was a firm believer that when God closed a door, He opened a window. Maybe the unpredictable situation that she’d been viewing as a problem was actually an opportunity for her to decide what she really wanted.
If fighting cancer had taught her anything, it was that life didn’t have to remain the way it was to be fulfilling. The future might be different from the past, but that didn’t necessarily make it bad.
Accepting that just might make the eventual outcome of the school board’s deliberations easier for her to accept. Whatever it was, she knew that she’d find a way to be all right. Because she was a Calhoun, and for generations Calhouns had taken their blows and soldiered on. That undefeatable spirit was a family legacy that she had every intention of honoring.
Just as she made her silent vow, she realized that the service was over. She was grateful that her parents no longer asked her questions about what she’d learned in church that morning, the way they had when she was younger. Today she’d have no choice other than to ’fess up about her wandering mind, and that would have been embarrassing, to say the least. Caitlin and Aubrey hurried through the milling crowd, crashing into Rick and bookending him in a jubilant double hug.
“I love Sunday school, Daddy!” shy Aubrey exclaimed, brilliant blue eyes shining with joy. “I made two new friends, and their names are Frannie and Gracie. They’re going to the playground in the square now. Can we go, too?”
“It’s time for lunch, sweetness.”
“Pleeease,” she begged, folding her hands in an imploring gesture that would melt the heart of an ice statue. “Just for a little while?”
Rick glanced at Caitlin, and she shrugged. “It’s fine with me. My friend Hannah will be there with her little brother, so I can hang out with her.”
“Well, I guess we’re going to the playground, then,” he conceded, chuckling as his girls raced for the door. Turning to Emma, he asked, “Would you like to go, too?”
The casual invitation was the last thing she would have expected, and at first she wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t like they were a couple, and he was obliged to include her in his plans. Then her brain kicked into gear, and she said, “Oh, that’s family time. I’d hate to be a third wheel.”
“Technically, you’d be the fourth wheel,” he corrected her, adding a mischievous grin she’d never seen on him before. “And if you want to come, we’d love to have you. The girls, I mean,” he amended quickly.
Combined with the earlier grasping of her hand, his slip made her curious about what he might be thinking, and she debated asking him about it. After a quick mental tug-of-war, she decided that it couldn’t hurt to find out what was going on behind those intelligent eyes. While they followed after the girls at a more sedate pace, she summoned an easygoing tone. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
Glaring over at him, she shook her head. “Are you honestly that clueless, or are you just messing with me?”
He hesitated, then laughed out loud. “Okay, you got me. It’s nice to have another grown-up to talk to, and you’re great company.”
Emma didn’t hear that very often, and she couldn’t quite believe it now. “Really? But I’m so quiet.”
“And funny and sweet,” he informed her in that mellow, almost-Southern accent of his. As they crossed the street and joined the people gathering around the playground, he gave her another boyish grin. “I have to say, I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Emma. You’re one of a kind.”
She laughed. “Does that work on the other women you’ve known?”
Suddenly, the humor left his expression, and he met her gaze with a direct, very intense, one of his own. A mixture of fondness and sorrow, it cast a shadow over what had started out as a lighthearted exchange between friends. “Only one.”
Feeling horrible for dredging up sad memories for him, Emma waited a beat before responding. “Sarah?” When he nodded, she took a deep breath to steady her voice. “I’m honored. May I ask you something?”
A little of the darkness lifted, and he shrugged much the way Caitlin had earlier. “Sure.”
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to think of her and smile?”
He took a moment to consider that and nodded. “Someday. People tell me the pain eases, but I didn’t believe that. Until recently, anyway.”
“What changed recently?”
The corner of his mouth quirked in a half grin, and something she couldn’t describe glittered in his eyes. Then in a flash it was gone, and he glanced over to where his daughters were running across the wooden suspension bridge, playing follow-the-leader with their friends. Coming back to Emma, he said, “We left Richmond and moved to Liberty Creek. A lot of things have changed since then.”
Emma got the distinct impression that there was more to it than that, but when he didn’t offer any more of an explanation, she decided that it was best to leave things as they were. She liked Rick, and under different circumstances she might have been open to having a romantic relationship with him.
But he had a demanding career and two wonderful daughters to raise, and Emma’s future was far from certain, both personally and professionally. If she ended up losing her job—or her battle with leukemia—she didn’t want to drag anyone else down with her. The path forward for her was murky at best, and while she could accept that for herself because she didn’t have a choice, she’d never dream of forcing it on anyone else.
So at least for now, she was better off keeping the very appealing single father at a distance. Teaching her students, wherever they might be, sharing her love of art and encouraging them to explore their own creativity because the world could never have enough bright, beautiful things.
When she was first diagnosed, that approach to life had felt right to her. But now, for some reason, it had a hollow ring to it. She wasn’t sure what had changed in the meantime, but the conclusion that had once left her feeling satisfied was now making her feel the opposite.
Why, she couldn’t say. But she wasn’t one to ignore her emotions, and on this sunny Sunday, she just felt sad.