Daughter of Joy by Kathleen Morgan Page B

half-hour buggy ride there, but I’m sure you can hitch a ride with Ella and Devlin. They attend the Episcopal Church there. Not that,” he added with a wry grin, “Devlin’s all that taken with church going. He only does it to please Ella and set an example for the children.”
    Abby stared, flabbergasted. Conor MacKay was giving her extra time off to attend church? She couldn’t believe her ears. Even if it wasn’t a church like the one she was raised in by her Methodist minister father, she was sure her father would have given his blessing. And there had never been any doubt in Abby’s mind that her Father in heaven would understand.
    “That’s most generous of you, Mr. MacKay,” she murmured, too shocked and pleased to be able to say more.
    “You were willing to compromise something of great importance to you, in order to give me something equally important to me. Despite what you may have heard to the contrary, I am a fair man.”
    “I assure you. I’ve never heard anything to contradict that.”
    “Haven’t you?” Conor gave a disbelieving snort. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” He shoved back his chair and stood.
    “A moment more, Mr. MacKay.”
    “Yes?” He arched a dark brow, then softened it with a smile.
    For a fleeting instant, Abby hesitated. She was loath to threaten the pleasant sense of fellowship that had formed between them in the past few minutes, but the issue of Beth was yet unresolved. The little girl, however, would remain a bone of contention between them, Abby feared, until she was able to develop some sort of positive relationship with her. But to do that, she needed to know exactly what obstacles that relationship was up against.
    She lifted her chin and stared Conor MacKay straight in the eyes. “It’s about Beth. I need your help.”
    Conor’s smile faded. A wary look shuttered his gaze. “What about her?”
    “She’s so guarded and suspicious of me. It’s going to be difficult to make much headway in her lessons as long as there’s such a barrier between us.”
    “What do you want me to do?”
    Amusement filled Abby. Beth wasn’t the only one guarded and suspicious of her. Abby knew she must venture slowly and carefully.
    “I don’t mean to pry,” she began with as much tact as she could muster, “but if you could share some reasons for her animosity toward me … well, perhaps it might provide some valuable insights.”
    Cool, gray-blue eyes regarded her dispassionately. “Neither Beth nor I are ones to snivel when life treats us unfairly. And we certainly don’t want anyone’s pity.”
    “Pity!” Abby rolled her eyes. “I think you confuse pity with caring and compassion. I’m not asking for you to snivel, just help me understand Beth better so I can help her.” She shoved her mug aside and leaned toward him. “She needs a woman’s influence in her life, Mr. MacKay. She needs to learn that she’s worthwhile, beautiful, and intelligent.”
    “Are you implying I don’t make her feel that way? That I’ve failed miserably as her father?”
    Abby froze. Now I’ve really done it, she thought. “No, no.” She shook her head vehemently. “That’s not at all what I meant. It’s evident that Beth adores you, and you, her. But she needs more than just what one person can give her—even if that person is her father—if she’s to heal that wounded little heart of hers.”
    “So you’re offering to help heal, is that it?” Like a storm on the horizon, Conor MacKay’s expression darkened ominously. “Have a care, Mrs. Stanton. You risk much in daring to draw too close to my daughter.”
    “As much as you risk, in daring to trust me to do it, Mr. MacKay?”
    A hard, angry look flared in his eyes. “Forgive me if I’ve somehow stumbled off the path of this conversation,” he said, “but I thought Beth was the topic.”
    “She was,” Abby tossed back at him, realizing she was now so embroiled in their renewed battle there was little sense in