In His Eyes

Connor pushed open the outside door, and when they stepped in, Caitlin was sitting in the chair, staring at the computer.

Connor sucked in a gasp. “You didn’t touch anything, did you sweetheart?”

The child looked at him with a frown. “No.”

“Good,” he said, ignoring the look. He moved toward the fireplace and tossed a log onto the kindling, then struck a match.

Ellene watched mesmerized as the kindling burst into flames and licked upward toward the bark. The flicker lent a homey look to the large room.

When she turned, Caitlin scooted off the chair and let Ellene sit again to finish her work. She glanced at her watch. “I’m just about done.” She scrolled the document, then hit Save and closed the program.

The aroma from Connor’s dinner preparations blanketed her. This time her stomach gave a soft growl.

Caitlin tittered at the sound, then stepped back to let Ellene rise. “Are you going home?”

“I sure am. It’s late.”

Connor looked over his shoulder. “Why won’t you eat with us, Ellene? It’s almost ready. Goulash. Not gourmet but filling.”

“Eat with us,” Caitlin said, a whole different child than Ellene had met when she arrived.

“Sorry. I really must go.”

She closed the computer and snapped the lock, but as she reached for the handle, the side doorbell chimed. Before Connor answered it, the door swung open. An elderly woman in a navy pea jacket slipped inside, wearing boots that looked big enough to fit Connor. When she turned, Ellene recognized Connor’s aunt.

“Aunt Phyllis,” Connor said, stepping over to give her a hug. “Come in. You remember Ellene.”

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “The mind isn’t what it used to be, but I could never forget Ellene.” She grasped Ellene’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “How are you dear? It’s so good to see you.”

“I’m fine, and nice to see you,” Ellene said, surprised at the woman’s warm greeting.

Aunt Phyllis dragged snow across the room as she sought Caitlin and pulled her into an embrace.

“You’re too cold,” Caitlin said drawing back.

“It’s colder than the Arctic out there, and it’s starting to snow heavily again.”

Connor shifted to the fireplace, tossing on a smaller branch, then poked at the wood, sending sparks skittering up the flue.

Snow. Ellene had seen enough snow the past year to keep her happy for many white Christmases. “Then I’d better—”

“Did you just drop by for a visit?” Connor’s aunt asked.

“Not really. My father owns Bordini Construction, and I’m working up an estimate for a renovation project.”

Connor gave her a disappointed look, and Ellene realized he hadn’t shared the information with his aunt.

“Sorry,” she mouthed, trying to block the view from Aunt Phyllis. “He’s just thinking about it,” Ellene added, hoping to smooth her faux pas.

“I wanted to surprise you, Aunt Phyllis, once I knew it was a go. I know how disappointed you get when—”

“God be praised,” the woman said. “I’d have my prayers answered if you were thinking of moving here, Connor. I don’t like being alone on the island when things happen.”

When things happen. The words sounded ominous, but Ellene wasn’t going to ask what things. Not knowing seemed the lesser of evils.

Aunt Phyllis pulled off her jacket and lapped it over the back of a chair. “Last year we were without electricity for nearly a week when the lines froze. It’s not uncommon here on the island.”

Connor sputtered a laugh. “Aunt Phyllis if you’re trying to encourage me to move to the island, that won’t help my enthusiasm.”

“Let the Lord be in charge, Connor.”

Ellene felt her brows lift, wondering what she meant.

Aunt Phyllis must have noticed her arched eyebrows and Connor’s gaping mouth. “Proverbs sixteen,” she said. “A man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”

Ellene hid her grin as she watched Connor sort through the words. Her gaze shifted to the blaze dancing in the fireplace while glowing embers sprinkled from the grate onto the hearth.

“You can plan all you want, Connor,” his aunt said, “but if the good Lord wants you living on the island, that’s where you’ll be.”

Connor scooted past her and whispered in Ellene’s ear as he headed for the stove. “If the good Lord or Aunt Phyllis wants it. That’s why I was keeping mum…until I was positive.”

“Sorry, Ellene said. But she couldn’t help but grin, hearing the woman putting Connor in his place. “I suppose I’d better—”

“Something smells good.” Phyllis turned toward the stove and leaned around Connor’s back to look into the pan. “Goulash. I haven’t had that in a long time.”

“You’re welcome to join us.”

“I wouldn’t be in the way?” She looked at Ellene as if asking her.

“You’re not in the way,” Connor said. “You’re always welcome to eat with us when we’re here.”

“I wasn’t worried about you,” Phyllis said. “I was asking Ellene.”

Ellene pressed her hand against her chest. “Me?”

Phyllis nodded. “You’re the guest here.”

“But I’m leaving. I was just getting my things together.”

Phyllis tilted her head to the side, a wry look on her face. “Leaving?”

“I’m heading home,” Ellene said again.

Phyllis broke into a chuckle. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not?”

“That’s what I came over to tell you. The ice is jammed tighter than a jar of pickles. You’re not getting off this island tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow from what I hear.”