He didn’t notice her looking at him, his attention on the little girl trudging wearily over to them.
Dorothea had indeed done everything she’d set out to do for the day. She searched for flowers, she showed off the tricks she’d taught Nina—which only happened to be getting Nina to nod her head—and she even got permission from Joseph to splash around in the shallowest part of the water. Now she was mostlydry and making her way with obvious exhaustion burdening in her shoulders.
She stopped at the blanket and yawned, barely remembering to cover her mouth at the very last moment. “Daddy…”
“Come here.”
The immediate gentle command surprised Catriona. Joseph had shed that layer of discomfort over the past couple of hours, and when he opened his arms to his daughter, it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world for him. One would never have thought that he was unused to being so affectionate with his daughter.
Dorothea didn’t waste a moment. She slinked into his arms, resting her head against his chest and sighing heavily.
“It seems it’s time for us to depart,” Catriona said, closing her book. This was good. Being alone with Joseph while Dorothea enjoyed herself had made her far too comfortable. Comfortable enough to ask him the things she’d always wanted to know. Comfortable enough to want to inch closer to him, to rest her head in his lap. Comfortable enough to let herself explore the range of feelings she’d been trying to suppress, feelings she knew she should never harbor for the man who made it clear he could never love her.
Dorothea’s exhaustion honestly couldn’t come at a better time.
She put the book aside, ready to begin packing up what was left of the food, but then Dorothea murmured, “No, not yet.”
“Not yet?” Joseph questioned.
“I’m not ready for this to end yet.” She tilted her head to look up at her father then at Catriona. Catriona’s heart nearly exploded from her chest at the sight. Dorothea looked at her as if she needed her approval just as much as she needed her father’s. “Can’t we stay a bit longer? Please?”
Joseph rested a hand on Dorothea’s head. He looked at Catriona. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Catriona asked, eyes widening slightly.
Joseph nodded, as if his question was not alarming in the slightest. As if it was perfectly normal for her opinion to matter.
She blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that came rushing to her eyes. “I think we can stay a bit longer. The sun won’t be setting for another hour or so after all.”
“Well, then there you have it,” Joseph said, turning his attention back to his daughter as he stroked her hair.
Dorothea smiled. Her eyelids dipped sleepily. She shifted from his lap, lying on her side and resting her head in her father’s lap. “This is the happiest day of my life,” she murmured.
There was no holding back the tears after that. Catriona simply had to look away because they ran unhindered down her cheeks, a sob forcing its way out.
“Are you all right?”
She didn’t dare turn at Joseph’s question. She shook her head, forcing herself to get it together. “I… will be.”
There were a few seconds of silence and then, “This is all thanks to you, Catriona.”
She swallowed, forcing back the sob, drying her cheeks. When she faced Joseph again, she felt much more normal. “I only made the suggestion that you come with us. It is you who made this such a wonderful day for her.”
“And I could not have managed it without you. I’m not used to anything like this.” He continued stroking her hair, gazing down at Dorothea who was already fast asleep. “I did not grow up in a loving family. My father was not an abusive man, but he certainly was not warm-hearted. Neither was my mother. They simply raised me expecting the very best from me at all times. There was no room for failure in my household.”
“You cannot blame yourself. You only understood one way to raise a family.”
Joseph nodded. He swallowed thickly, and Catriona could almost swear that he was on the verge of tears as well. “Dorotheadidn’t stand a chance. I’d hoped that her mother would be the change—that she would be a comforting presence in Dorothea’s life since I didn’t know how to.”
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. She was on the cusp of learning something she’d always wanted to know, but she didn’t want to push him.
“Is it because she passed away when Dorothea was quite young?” Catriona asked gently.
Joseph huffed a mirthless laugh. “If only it were that simple. How I wish I could say that that was it. But Dorothea hasn’t known her mother’s love from the very moment she was born.”
Catriona’s blood ran cold at the insinuation. “I don’t understand…”
Joseph stopped stroking Dorothea’s hair, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky. “She grew sad. It was simple and sudden and heartbreaking. She was never capable of loving Dorothea because she could not love anything in that state.”
