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She nodded.
“What are you drawing?”
“Me and Miss Carmichael.”
He walked in and sat down on the edge of her bed. “May I see it?” On the paper were two stick figures, one tall, one short. They were holding hands. He smiled. “Miss Carmichael said she enjoyed dinner.”
“I did, too. She’s pretty.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Even prettier than Felicity’s mama. Do you think she’s pretty?”
“I do.” Which was true. She outshone Colleen like the sun to a candle.
“Is she really going to be my new mama?”
“If you want her to be.”
“I do, but Aunt Minnie’s going to say no.”
He thought back on his encounter with Minnie in his office. “Minnie doesn’t get a say. Just you.”
Anna searched his face with eyes filled with hope. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
She quieted as if thinking on that.
“And honey, Minnie should never have said you caused your mother’s death.”
“But I did.”
“No, you didn’t and had I known about it before tonight I would’ve told her to never say that to you ever again. Your mother wouldn’t want you to carry that in your heart about yourself.”
He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not but he’d be having a talk with Minnie about this. Soon. “I know it might be hard to unbelieve something but I want you to try real hard to not think of yourself that way. Will you try?”
She nodded. “The next time I go visit Mama at her grave, can I go with you and not Aunt Minnie?”
“Sure can. In fact, once Miss Carmichael and I marry, we’ll only see Minnie when she comes to visit. Miss Carmichael will be looking after you whenever I’m gone from now on.” The guilt he felt inside from knowing how awful Anna must feel was tearing his heart apart. He’d put his child in Minnie’s hands not knowing how much she was suffering. He doubted Anna’s thinking would change overnight but he hoped their talking about it now would be a start.
“What do you think I should put on my list for Miss Regan?” she asked.
“What list?”
“My getting dirty list.”
He chuckled and inwardly thanked God for the adventure-loving Miss Carmichael. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you care if I get dirty, Papa?”
“No, honey.”
“Granpa Ben might.”
“True, but he doesn’t get a say in this either.”
“Then I’ll keep thinking.”
