be.” Morgan’s eyes met hers. The deep tones of his voice went right through her. “I can’t tell you when I’ve had this much fun. It’s been a long time.”
Rachel shifted, trying not to notice how good he looked holding her daughter. She stood and went over to him. “I should get her to bed.”
Gently, she slipped her hands under her daughter and lifted the girl to her shoulder. Lindsay mumbled something and zonked right back out.
Morgan stood. “As much as I’d like tea, Betty, I really have to be up early. I should be going, too.”
“Of course, Morgan. Let me take her, Rachel, and you walk our guest to the door.”
Sharply, Rachel looked at her mother. Matchmaking?
She had to wonder. This man was attractive. Her mother didn’t like it that she was alone with a child to raise. Rachel would have to talk to her about this later. “Very well.” Handing her child to her mother, Rachel turned and offered Morgan a smile.
He wasn’t bad. She just wasn’t used to sharing her child with anyone. Not after everything that had happened. She was scared. Things happened. She didn’t want to lose Lindsay or hear any more false reports, on her, or true reports for that matter. She didn’t want her daughter exposed to any more pain or lies, or to get her hopes up only to have them dashed. She wanted to protect her daughter from the world. And this man was part of that world.
Still, he had been wonderful with Lindsay. If only Lindsay’s father had been like that. “It was nice meeting you, Morgan.”
Morgan headed toward the door, his long-legged stride taking him gracefully across the room. “I really enjoyed tonight.” He pulled open the door and paused, then turned and pierced her with his gaze. “I enjoyed it a lot, Rachel.”
Rachel’s mouth went dry. “I…yes,” she stuttered, and nodded.
“Maybe we’ll see each other in church.”
The mood was shattered that easily. “I’m not sure. It takes time to get Lindsay ready, and we like to sleep in on Sunday…”
“Oh. I had thought you’d want to take her simply for the interaction with the other children.”
“She gets interaction,” Rachel argued.
“Ah,” Morgan said softly, a smile touching his lips. “But does she get to learn the series of songs the teacher is teaching the children? All of them in sign language?”
“Really?” Rachel asked, excitement burgeoning to life.
Morgan shrugged. “She majored in languages and ministers to the deaf on Saturdays. I thought Lindsay would probably love that.”
“She probably would.”
Rachel suddenly realized she’d been tricked. Scowling at Morgan, she said, “I only want what’s best for my daughter. So if you do see me there, it’s because of her.”
Morgan’s smile turned tender. “I understand, Rachel.” He reached out and took her hand, but instead of shaking it, to her utter disbelief, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it lightly. His gaze lifted to hers. “I really do.” She stared, watching him walk down the stairs and to his car. And for some reason, she really believed that he did understand. She wasn’t sure why, but it was in his eyes. The truth. He really did know what she was going through.
Gripping the door, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, God really did take a personal interest, after all.
Chapter Five
She should have known.
He was a doctor.
A pediatrician.
Of all the low-down tricks. She was striding across the green, but she didn’t make it to her destination, which was the church day care and her mother. Oh, no. She found someone else to take her frustration out on.
Smiling with grim anticipation, she steered toward the left and the man sitting at a small table under a tree. “Ah, good morning, Morgan,” she said lightly.
His features changed and lit with a welcoming smile. “Not morning really. I’m on an afternoon lunch break.” Standing, he smiled, and that smile nearly melted Rachel’s anger.
Nearly.
“How are you today? Will you join me?”
So smooth and gentlemanly. It was that kiss on the hand last night that distracted her, made her look at the way his hand waved her to a seat. She found herself moving forward to do just that—when she suddenly jumped back.
“Rachel?” he asked, confused.
“Don’t you take that tone with me. I found out.” She dropped that bombshell and waited to see him flinch or at least flush guiltily.
He did none of these. He continued to stare at her, looking curious as well as confused. “Found out what? I’m sorry, Rachel, but I don’t understand. Please, take a seat. We can talk.”
Rachel shook her head, her agitation obvious as she clasped her hands. “Mom put you up to it, didn’t she? I just know she did. That’s Mom.”
Concern replaced his confusion, and he stepped forward.
She raised a hand to halt him. “No. Just tell me the truth.” Silly, but she was near tears. “She did, didn’t she?”
“Rachel, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgan said, and she could tell he meant for her to believe that.
“But…you’re a doctor. Mom wouldn’t have just invited you over.”
“You didn’t know I was a doctor?” Morgan asked, surprise spreading across his features. “Oh, Rachel,” he whispered, and despite the fact she tried to put up a hand again, he ignored it and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “I just thought your mom had told you something about me since I was a guest there so much.”
The strong arms felt nice, encouraging her to lean against him. The chest was wide enough to hold her as she leaned against him. The warm, deep voice invited her to trust him. It was the last that, after only a moment of comfort, made her push back.
“She didn’t tell me,” Rachel whispered. “You were there to examine my daughter, weren’t you?”
He hesitated.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said.
With a nod, he said, “Your mother wanted me to see Lindsay, but just friend to friend. She knows you didn’t want her to go into an office and see a doctor officially.”
“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Rachel argued. “She’s fine. We’re fine. We’re both fine.”
Lifting his hands, he said gently, “It’s okay, Rachel. I wasn’t there to play inquisitor. Believe it or not, I do go over to your mom’s house two or three times a week. Sometimes I bring dinner, and sometimes she fixes it.”
“And you sure jumped on it when she asked you to look at my daughter,” she said bitterly, feeling raw with betrayal.
“It’s not like that. Your mom is worried about both you and your daughter. She loves you, Rachel, and wanted to help. Please don’t be angry at her.”
Rachel’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not. I’m just—hurt,” she finally whispered. And scared, though she didn’t add that aloud. She didn’t want anyone around her daughter. Lindsay was vulnerable. Rachel was, too. She couldn’t take hearing someone else tell her that her daughter was imperfect and should be shut away somewhere.
“Rachel, listen,” he began, but the beeper on his belt went off. Looking down, he sighed. “That’s the hospital. I have to take the call. Please, wait on this and think about it. Allow your hurt to ease before you say anything else. We’ll talk