The Path To Her Heart. Linda Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ Mr. Wallace, a person has to learn to trust or he puts himself and others at risk.”

      Boothe made an explosive sound. His expression grew thunderous.

      Emma met his look without flinching. There was no reason she should want to reach out and smooth away the harsh lines in his face. Except, she reluctantly admitted, her silly reaction to a little scene on the sidewalk.

      “Trust.” He snorted. “From here on out, I trust no one.” He pursed his lips. “No one.”

      He’d been badly hurt. But he verged on becoming bitter. Silently, she prayed for wisdom to say the right thing. “Not even God?” She spoke softly.

      He stood rigid as a fence post for a moment then his shoulders sank. “I’m trying to trust Him.” His head down, he headed back to the kitchen.

      “I will pray for you, Boothe Wallace.”

      Chapter Two

      Boothe stayed out of sight of the kitchen door to compose himself. Jessie had enough fears to deal with without seeing his father upset. He hoped seeing Emma in her nurse’s uniform wouldn’t remind Jessie of that awful time two years ago when Alyse had been murdered by a negligent doctor. Aided and abetted by a belligerent nurse. The doctor said it would stop her fluttering heartbeat that left her weak. Instead, it had succeeded in stopping her heart completely. The judge might have ruled the incident accidental, but Boothe considered it murder. There was no other word for giving a killing dose of medicine. Alyse hadn’t stood a chance. He shuddered back the memory of her violent seizures.

      And for Emma to suggest he should trust! She didn’t know the half of it. He’d trusted too easily. It cost him his wife. No. He would not trust again. Ever.

      Not even God? Her words rang through his head. Even trusting God had grown difficult. One thing forced him to make the choice to do so—Jessie. He feared for his son’s safety if God didn’t protect him. Hopefully, his trust would not be misplaced. Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. He knew the words well. However, reciting verses was far easier than having the assurance the words promised.

      He drew in a deep breath. Why hadn’t Aunt Ada warned him one of her guests was a nurse? But then what difference would it have made? Leaving Lincoln, Nebraska, and moving to South Dakota had been the only way to escape the threat he faced back in the city of losing Jessie. Besides, there was no work back there and he’d been evicted from his shabby apartment. Here Jessie was safe with him. He could put up with an interfering nurse for Jessie’s sake. He would forget about Emma and the way her brown eyes melted with gentleness one moment and burned with fury the next. He smiled knowing he’d annoyed her as much as she annoyed him. Why that should amuse him, he couldn’t say. But it did.

      He paused outside the kitchen.

      “Where did my daddy go?” His son’s voice had a brittle edge signaling his distress. Poor Jessie had dealt with far too much in the past two years, but these past two weeks had been especially upsetting with losing their home and then being snatched away from his Aunt Vera and Uncle Luke. Jessie did not understand the reasons behind this sudden move. But it had been unavoidable. Trusting his sister-in-law had almost proven a disaster. Boothe only hoped Favor would be far enough from Lincoln.

      Aunt Ada, bless her heart, answered Jessie soothingly. “He’s just in the other room. He’ll be back shortly.”

      “Is my daddy mad?”

      Aunt Ada chuckled. “I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think it’s anything we need to worry about.”

      “Is my arm going to fall off?”

      Boothe stepped into the room intent on reassuring his son. The bandage already needed changing. “Your arm is going to be all right.” He kept all traces of anger from his voice even though he silently blamed Emma for frightening Jessie.

      “But that lady—”

      “Emma?” Aunt Ada prompted.

      “Yes, Emma—”

      “Miss Emma to you,” Boothe said.

      “Miss Emma. She’s a nurse. She said—”

      “I’ll wrap your arm better. It will be just fine.” Thank you, Miss Emma, for alarming an innocent child. He gently took off the soiled dressing, tore up more strips and created a pad. “Aunt Ada, do you have adhesive tape?”

      “In the left-hand drawer.” She pointed toward the cupboard. He found the tape and cut several pieces, using them to close the edges of the cut before he applied the pad. He wrapped it with fresh lengths of the old sheet and pinned the end. “There. You’ll soon be good as new.”

      Jessie nodded, his blue gaze bright. “I don’t need a doctor, do I?”

      Boothe kept his voice steady despite the anger twitching at his insides. “Jessie, my boy, a man does not run to the doctor every time he gets a cut. Okay?”

      “Okay.” He slid his gaze to Aunt Ada. “Miss Emma lives here?”

      “Yes. Did you like her?”

      “She has a nice smile.”

      Boothe shot Aunt Ada a warning glance. “Where do you want us to put our stuff?”

      Aunt Ada winked at Boothe. “She’s a nice woman. Knows her own mind. I admire that in a person.”

      Jessie nodded vigorously. “Me, too.”

      Boothe grabbed the suitcase, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation. He did not want Jessie getting interested in Emma.

      “I’ve made space for you in the back of the storeroom. Sorry I can’t offer you a bedroom but the upstairs ones are all rented, for which I thank God. And I don’t intend to give up mine.”

      “I’m sure we’ll be more than comfortable.” Boothe fell in beside Aunt Ada as she limped toward the back of the kitchen. Jessie followed on his heels.

      The room was large, full of cupboards stacked with canned goods, bottles of home preserves, tins and sacks of everything from oats to bay leaves. Spicy, homey smells filled the air. He tightened his jaw, remembering when such aromas, such sights, meant home. With forced determination he finished his visual inspection of the room. Two narrow side-by-side cots and a tall dresser fit neatly along the far wall. A window with a green shade rolled almost to the top gave natural light. “This is more than adequate. Thank you.”

      “Is this our place?” Jessie asked.

      “For as long as you want,” Aunt Ada said.

      A load of weight slid from Boothe’s shoulders. They would be safe here. And maybe one day in the unforeseeable future, they might even be happy again. “I can’t thank you enough.”

      Jessie kicked off his boots, plopped down on one bed, his bony knees crooked toward the ceiling. “I had a room of my own at Auntie Vera’s.”

      Boothe had been forced to leave Jessie with Vera on school days and often on weekends as he СКАЧАТЬ