Speechless, Elisa looked up.
The man’s words were gruff, awkward. His expression was blank. But his eyes—a softness around his eyes—and a…quiet in the way he watched her made her swallow and relax a fraction. Her heartbeat stuttered in a fluttery kind of way. A completely different reaction from what she should be experiencing if she were wise. She didn’t know this man and he was probably married. The girl had a mother somewhere. Where? Maybe on her way. This man was just being nice. Maybe.
Learn from your mistakes. You never know who a person really is.
“You should listen to Dad.” The little girl had regained her earnest tone. “He’s usually right. Even when I think he’s crazy, it turns out he’s right and I wish I’d listened to him. Besides, he gets hurt even more than I do. He says ice is his best friend.”
“So is ibuprofen.” Elisa snapped her mouth shut, not even sure why she’d let the comment pop out.
The little girl gave her a brighter smile. “Yeah. He says that, too.”
The dad in question stood, his knees creaking a bit as he rose up and took a step back.
Elisa was grateful for the space even though he probably wanted to be near his daughter. His presence was intense even if his movements were all steady and smooth. No sudden or frenetic motion. Nothing to freak her out.
“Have you ever had self-defense?” the girl continued. “Dad says every person should take at least one class or seminar. It’s what got me started in mixed martial arts. I liked it so much I started taking classes.”
Where is your mother? Elisa wanted to ask, but kept it to herself. A thoughtlessly asked question could put a person in a worse than awkward position. Better to just stay in the conversation at hand.
“I haven’t, no.” Elisa wasn’t sure if the man minded the line of chatter, but it did seem to keep her mind off her own wrist, so maybe it was a distraction for the girl, too. If it was, the least she could do was help a girl this sweet. “But it sounds like good advice. Will you be worried about mixed martial arts now?”
The girl gave a slight shake of her head, grimacing as she unintentionally shifted her arm. “I want to go back as soon as this is fixed. I’ve got a belt test at the end of the year, and I want to make black belt before I get to middle school.”
“We’ll let the doctor take a look and get some X-rays,” the man interjected, his voice low and maybe amused. “Then we’re going to follow doctor’s orders to let you heal up correctly.”
“Then I’ll go back to class.” The little girl was not to be deterred.
Elisa couldn’t help but smile. Dauntless. So much conviction in such a young package.
“Rojas?” A new nurse stood in the double doors leading from the waiting room back into the emergency room area.
The girl’s father straightened. “Here.”
The nurse nodded and motioned for a young man in scrubs pushing a wheelchair.
In moments, the girl was eased into the wheelchair, big, round, plushy support and all. She gave Elisa a wave as she was wheeled away to see the doctor.
Elisa waved back.
Wow. Just wow. Elisa took a deep breath. There was one heck of a personality. Someday that little girl was going to grow into a powerful, confident woman.
Someone cleared his throat near her.
She jumped.
For the second time in the space of a few minutes, the man had snuck right up on her. This time, he was holding out a cup of coffee and a card. “Revolution Mixed Martial Arts. It’s local, if you’re staying in the area. There’s a women’s self-defense workshop coming up in the next couple of weeks. Boom made me promise to come give this to you.”
Words stuck in her throat as she stared at the proffered card. The hand that held it was strong, the fingertips callused, and the nails trimmed back out of practicality rather than aesthetics. Even wrapped in tape as his hands were, she took note of those details. She imagined they were a sign of honest, hard work. The hands of a good person.
If she could believe she knew how to recognize good anymore.
This man had been very gentle with his daughter and with Elisa. And here he was, being kind again. Her chest tightened, and she savored it, this small act.
It took a long minute for her to pull her wits together enough to take it from him—and the coffee, too. His hands remained steady until she had both in her own. He didn’t give any sign of impatience, didn’t try to shove either cup or card at her to make her hurry despite probably wanting to get back to his daughter.
Oh no, she shouldn’t keep him.
As she gingerly took the offerings, he didn’t extend his fingers to touch her the way some men would.
Warm brown eyes the color of dark chocolate studied her, saw straight through her, and left her feeling exposed. “The workshop takes it slow and easy. It’s assumed everyone is a beginner. If you mention my name, you’ll get a discount. Rojas.”