The room was filled with men eating after church; she’d served them all desserts without having really seen any of them aside from Harvey.
“Esther?” Her father stood in front of her sometime later. “You sure are lost in your thoughts.”
She gave him a weak smile, then looked confused. “Where’s your plate?”
“Oh, I ate a little.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder to the corner of the room where he ate, not sharing a table with anyone because of his bann. “Were you expecting Daisy? Looks like Joe just dropped her off.”
“What?”
Esther looked out the window where her father had pointed. Sure enough, Daisy stood there. Even at a distance, Esther could see that her face was sullen and—somehow different. Esther left the table quickly and ran out to the little girl.
“Where’s your dad?” Esther signed and looked around.
Daisy’s blank eyes didn’t find Esther’s. She looked past the little girl and could see tire marks. This didn’t sound like Joe. His commitment to Daisy had seemed secure. Something had to have gone terribly wrong. Here she was again with a little English girl with a crowd of eyes on her. She’d been here before. The weight of the unknown pushed down on her.
“How about we just go home?” her father suggested, coming up behind them.
Esther looked at him and saw two plates of food in his hands—one for her and one for Daisy.
“You can bring the plates back later,” he whispered. “And I gave you an extra serving of tapioca. You always loved tapioca when you were little.”
The most unlikely person had just become Esther’s rescuer.