Dawn of the Golden Promise by BJ Hoff Page B

girl—only months older than himself.
    Did she suspect that he was mad for her?
    The very possibility made his face heat with embarrassment. She obviously considered him no more than a green gorsoon , a foolish youth with the dust of barley still in his hair.
    She treated him with the same detachment she might have afforded a slow-witted peddler. Although just to look at her made Daniel’s heart leap into his mouth, she more often than not looked at him as if he did not exist at all.
    At the best, she was tolerant of him—at the worst, impatient. She made it quite clear that he was little more than a clumsy interference when he hovered about. He was miserably aware that she suffered his presence only because he was a part of the family who employed her. She wasn’t exactly rude to him, merely indifferent.
    Daniel found her indifference humiliating. Yet he could not seem to stay away from her. Despite her obvious lack of interest, he was increasingly drawn to her, unreasonably attracted to her. At the same time, he occasionally felt something that bordered on resentment, almost as if his callow foolishness were somehow her fault.
    He could only hope that Quinn O’Shea remained unaware of his feelings. As painful as her disregard for him might be, it would surely be preferable to her contempt.

    Later that night, Evan lay quietly beside Nora in bed, reading.
    Occasionally he would glance over at her to see if she was still awake. Each time she would meet his eyes and smile at him.
    Finally he put his book down. “Is the lamp keeping you awake?”
    She shook her head. She was propped up on a mountain of pillows to aid her breathing, and in the dim glow from the oil lamp, Evan could see the faint lines of fatigue about her eyes, the ashen hue of her skin.
    â€œYou ought to be sleeping.” He reached to take her hand, and she turned to face him. “So, then—what do you m-make of our newest guest?” he asked her. “I saw you watching him at the table.”
    She smiled. “I expect your little Oscar could prove to be quite a handful.” Her expression sobered. “Poor little tyke. He was nearly starved, did you notice?”
    Evan nodded. The boy had eaten enough for three, wolfing down his dinner like a famished puppy. “I’ve n-no doubt you’re right about his being a handful. B-but what else could I do? He had n-nowhere to go.”
    Still smiling, she squeezed his fingers. “Something tells me the walls of Whittaker House will be fit to burst in no time at all.”
    Evan sighed. “I wish I could take every one of them in. I would if it were somehow p-possible.”
    Nora put her free hand to his face. “Evan—you can’t do it alone. Others will have to help.”
    â€œI only pray they will. There m-must be hundreds—perhaps thousands—of homeless children out there, Nora. What’s to become of them?” His thoughts went to the enormity of the task to which he had set himself…or rather, the task to which the Lord had set him. As always, he felt slightly overwhelmed by what he faced. And, as always, the reminder came that he wasn’t alone in it.
    â€œHow many will we be able to take in, Evan?”
    He thought about her question before answering. “Well…thanks to Aunt Winnie and Mr. Farmington—and other church sponsors, of course—we should be able to take care of at least twenty boys by the fall.” He paused, doing some quick calculations in his head. “After Christmas, we’ll hope for increased support. Perhaps then we can increase to twenty-five, or even more.”
    Nora was quiet for such a long time that Evan looked to see if she had fallen asleep. Instead, she tightened her grasp on his hand. “Evan—will we be able to help Daniel John go on to the university soon, do you think? I know he’s saving all he can from his wages with Dr. Grafton, but he gives us most of