Love Starts with Elle(74)

“Why would she think such a thing? Tracey-Love, Daddy needs you to stop crying. Please.” He lowered her to the floor, wiping her tears with his thumbs. But one tiny arm remained locked around his neck.

The long-haired, flowing-skirt preschool teacher moved to the next table. “Where’s her mama, Mr. McCord?”

“Not here. And you should’ve called if she was so upset.”

“We tried. The later the hour, the more she fretted. Is her mama deceased?”

“Died a year ago August.”

Miss Millie’s expression softened with understanding.“She thought you weren’t coming because you’d gone to visit her mama in heaven. And once you go to heaven, you don’t come back.”

Heath recognized Tracey-Love’s adaptation of his death explanation. “Did you assure her I was coming?”

Miss Millie paused from straightening chairs. “Mr. McCord, death is a complicated issue for children. Because they don’t fully understand, adults tend to think all is well, when perhaps—”

“Since we moved here, she’s been doing well.”

“Has Tracey-Love talked about being abandoned?”

“Not to me, no.”

The woman knelt next to Tracey-Love and smoothed her hand over her tear-stained face. “It’s going to be all right. See? Like I told you.” She peered at Heath. “You might want to explain the difference between death and being late.”

Why did she have to make him feel unfit? “I’ll do that.”

Scooping up Tracey-Love, Heath carried her to the van, making a promise he could only keep in theory. “Daddy won’t leave you. I’m here for you. Going to harass your boyfriends, teach you to drive, send you to college, walk you down an aisle, one day, way, way off in the future, and give my best girl to another man.”

Her grip eased as he opened the van door. “I-I wa-was scared.” She crawled into her car seat, her light slowly returning.

“I know you were. Sometimes daddies are late; it doesn’t mean we are never coming. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but he was dubious. He’d keep an eye and ear out for her fears of abandonment. “Hey, I finally put some songs on your iPod. Want to play it when we get home?”

“C-Can we get s-some ice cream?”

“Ice cream? Before dinner?”

“P-please?”

Ava, is that you rolling over in your grave? “All right, ice cream sounds good for brave little girls.” He buckled her seatbelt, then grabbed her chin. “Tracey-Love, look at me. I will never leave you. Do you understand?”

She rested her head against the car seat. “Not like Mama, huh?”

“Sweetie, people die. We can’t predict it or stop it, but to the best of my ability, I’ll be here for a long, long time.” He smoothed his hand over her knee, which bore a new scrape. “Mama loved you more than anything, TL. She’s in heaven because she tried to help other mamas and little girls. And in fact, her old job gave her a big trophy for being brave. How about we put in your room?”

“Did she get ice cream, too, for being brave, like me?”

“Yes.” He smiled, smoothing his hand over her flyaway hair. “Or maybe she picked a big green salad with light dressing. Yum.” Okay, so he’d ruined Ava’s plan to raise TL a heath-food nut. Some things had to give. “Anytime you get scared or have questions, you come talk to me, okay?” He tickled her ribs. “Okay?”

She frowned and shoved his hand away. “C-can we get ice cream now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heath loved the sound of TL’s singing and chattering as they drove to Publix, then home. With the drama over, she’d returned to her usual self.

These moments were the kind that made him miss Ava the most, when he wanted to turn to someone who knew exactly how he felt and brag about what a beautiful child they’d made.



A gritty, gray fog hung over the creek, unusual for a July day as Elle drove home from morning prayer where she spent recent days praying about Jeremiah.

Finally settled into his Tallahassee residence, he called daily, e-mailed nightly. Last night, moments before their good-bye, he’d told her he loved her. “Just say the word, Elle, marry me.”

His confession reminded her of her original feelings for him and Elle wondered if she’d ever stopped loving him.

Daddy had pointed out to her the other day as she lay on his couch—watching Lifetime movies, thinking of her next painting during the commercials, and calling it work—that she needed to make some kind of decision about Jeremiah or cut him loose.

The whole situation frustrated her. He’d dumped her. The decision to take him back should be simple—no, double dog no with a cherry on top.

But her heart refused to agree. For some wild reason, she wanted to give him a fair chance. Ignore how he’d treated her in the past. And with an odd understanding, she felt Jesus wanted her to give him this consideration too.

Parking beside the garage, Elle jogged up the studio stairs, intending to do some cleaning, then actually work on those paintings she envisioned during Lifetime commercials.

So far, she had three halfway decent pieces for Darcy’s show— ones she didn’t deem closet-worthy. But, since Mitzy’s invitation, Elle felt her confidence growing. Maybe Heath was right—big things were coming.