Ben Cavanaugh. He was on a job site with Jonah in Richmond and couldn’t meet with Ross until later that afternoon.
As soon as Kelly had called him with the latest news, he’d been burdened with guilt. Ben had mustered the courage to phone the Watsons the day before and had discovered the tragic news.
Millicent Cunningham Watson—Ben’s biological mother—had passed away several years ago.
Ross blamed himself. He’d been too anxious to share the initial information about Ben’s birth mother. He should have waited and checked further into the family before giving Ben the Watsons’ telephone number.
Finding out he had four adult half siblings and that Millicent and Ralph had searched for him, too, couldn’t completely erase Ben’s grief over losing the opportunity to meet the woman who’d brought him into the world.
Would Ben still want to meet the family? Knowing his birth mother had passed away? It had taken Ben a long time to make the decision to find her and now he had another difficult decision to make.
Ross shifted restlessly in the chair. He had to apologize to Ben as soon as possible for dropping the ball. His concern about Kelly and the threatening note had drummed out everything else in his brain lately. Not that it was a valid excuse, but he hoped Ben would understand.
A rap on the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Come in.”
He already knew who was on the other side. Appointment Number Two. Andrew Noble. It was a good thing that nothing fazed the guy because this meeting had the potential to be a rough one, too.
Lord, whenever you say the word, I’m ready to retire.
He motioned to Andrew to sit down.
In a split second, Andrew decided he’d rather stand. The guarded expression on Ross’s face didn’t exactly invoke a warm, fuzzy make-yourself-at-home type of feeling.
Ross opened his mouth to say something and then his jaw snapped shut again.
Andrew strolled in and lounged against the wall but every nerve ending in his body was on red alert. The P.I. didn’t strike Andrew as the kind of man who had a difficult time saying what was on his mind.
Ross fixed his gaze on the pictures of the children that lined the wall above the desk. As if he’d forgotten Andrew was still in the room.
A sudden, chilling thought occurred to Andrew. Had Ross somehow stumbled upon the fact that Andrew was the Guardian?
“Is Kelly all right?” He decided to jumpstart the conversation by turning Ross’s thoughts to his wife.
“Kelly?” Ross gave him a distracted look, which sharpened when he realized he’d been caught daydreaming. The reddish haze in his eyes testified to the hours he’d put in chasing paper trails. “She’s fine.”
And she’s going to stay that way.
Andrew heard the unspoken words and waited. So Ross’s phone call wasn’t about the threatening letter Kelly had received.
“This thing is like mountain climbing,” Ross murmured, almost to himself. “Every time I think I have a hold on something, the rocks under my feet start to crumble.”
Andrew could relate to that. No matter how difficult, you couldn’t go back. Only forward. “Is there anything I can do?”
Ross barely concealed his surprise. And his amusement. “Thanks for the offer, but I can’t think of anything.”
Andrew almost smiled. The guy was tactful, no doubt about it.
“Jared Kierney, Meg’s husband, is helping with damage control. He got permission from his editor at the Gazette to write a special series of articles about Tiny Blessings. He’s planning to interview the Harcourts first. Give a more personal spin on adoption to counter the bad press the agency’s been dealing with.”
“It should help.” Andrew crossed his arms loosely over his chest, adopting the casual stance that encouraged people to let their guard down. To underestimate him. If Ross knew his secret, he would have said so by now. Something else was going on….
Ross gave him a level look. “What do you know about Miranda Jones?”
The question broadsided him. Tension cinched the muscles in his shoulders, pulling him out of his casual slouch. “Is there a reason you think I should know something about her?”
Ross flicked an impatient look at him. “Don’t play games with me, Noble. I’m not the press or a member of your fan club. Sandra is like a second mother to me and since the incident at the Fourth of July celebration, Kelly now claims Miranda as a friend. Those are the two reasons I called you…first. So, at the risk of repeating myself…what do you know about Miranda?”
Right before Ross’s eyes, Andrew Noble shed the facade of pampered American prince. His gaze was sharp and alert. “And at the risk of repeating myself, what makes you think I know anything?”
Respect flickered in Ross’s eyes. “Kelly seems to think you and Miranda are seeing each other. Although, she did admit Miranda denied it.”
“We’ve been spending time together,” Andrew said, not entirely surprised his friendship with Miranda had become a topic of conversation. Curiosity overrode caution and he decided to answer Ross’s questions. “She’s a loyal employee. A devoted mother.” He started with the things he knew were true and left out the blanks he’d been trying to fill as he got to know Miranda better.
“Devoted?” Ross picked up on the word immediately. His fingers drummed an uneven beat against the top of the desk. “How devoted?” he muttered. “That’s the question.”
On the outside, Andrew appeared to be the kind of man accustomed to having everything he wanted at the snap of his fingers, but years of working as the Guardian had carved out a reservoir of patience. Until now.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”
“I wish I knew.” Ross pushed a thin sheaf of papers across the desk. “Take a look.”
For a second, Andrew didn’t move. Didn’t want to see what was in the harmless-looking papers that had prompted Ross’s phone call. And how they connected to Miranda. The only thing that kept one foot in front of the other as he stalked over to the desk was the knowledge that God walked with him.
He scanned the letterhead at the top of the page. They were adoption papers.
“What—” It was typical legalese. Nothing in the endless flow of words snagged his attention. Until Ross leaned forward and flipped the page.
“Keep reading.”
Andrew’s vision blurred.
The names of the adoptive parents, a Lorraine and Thomas Ferris from Atlanta, Georgia, didn’t mean anything to him. But the signature of the witness did.
Miranda Lynn Jones.
And the name of the adoptive child.
Daniel Thomas Ferris.
“This has to be a coincidence. The names…a lot of people share the same name.” Questions boiled over in his mind.
If Daniel was adopted, where were his parents? And why was Miranda claiming to be Daniel’s mother.
“I talked to Sandra after I found these yesterday afternoon. They were with some other documents sealed in a separate envelope in the strong box. I haven’t had a chance to examine them closely yet. They don’t look like they were tampered with but the deeper Harcourt got into blackmailing people, the better he got at falsifying documents.” Ross hesitated. “Sandra doesn’t know what to think. When Miranda applied for the job at the diner, she got the impression Miranda was afraid of something. Or someone. She assumed Miranda had had a bad breakup with Daniel’s father. Miranda told her Daniel was her son and Sandra never questioned it. My mother-in-law has a habit of reaching out to lost souls. She hired Miranda on the spot without asking for references. She did verify Daniel’s birth date as the one listed here on the adoption papers. They’re the same.”
Another coincidence?
Andrew tried to piece together his fractured thoughts. “This doesn’t make sense. You’re telling me that Daniel Jones was adopted? Through Tiny Blessings?”
“According to these papers, it appears that way. But why were they hidden in a wall at the mansion?�
�� Ross posed the question but judging from his tone, he’d already formed a theory about that. Barnaby Harcourt had taken his blackmail very seriously. He hadn’t simply run out of space in his filing cabinet. He’d put the documents there for a reason.
Like a flash flood, conversations Andrew’d had with Miranda slammed into him. The look of fear on her face when she’d overheard his conversation with Sandra about the newly discovered cache of documents. Her vague responses to his questions about where she’d lived before moving to Chestnut Grove. The way she’d kept to herself, gently rebuffing any attempts people made to befriend her. To let anyone get to know her. Everything pointed to one conclusion.
A woman on the run.
“Sandra asked me to call you,” Ross went on. “She warned me not to jump to conclusions and she’s afraid if I approach Miranda, she’ll take Daniel and leave.”
The suitcases…
Andrew’s heart kicked into an unsteady rhythm. “You want me to talk to her.”
“Sandra says Miranda trusts you.”
Apparently not enough, Andrew thought bitterly. If he believed the documents in front of him, Miranda had only been a witness to Daniel’s adoption. She wasn’t his birth mother. Or even his adoptive mother.
So, who was she?
His thoughts took a dark turn. Was it possible Miranda had somehow been involved in one of Harcourt’s blackmailing schemes?
“If you don’t feel comfortable talking to Miranda, I’ll keep digging,” Ross said quietly. “But I have to be honest. Finding out who’s responsible for sending Kelly that note is my top priority at the moment.”
Andrew didn’t blame him. He felt the same overpowering need to protect Miranda. Despite the evidence, he wanted to believe there was a logical explanation why Miranda and Daniel were together.
“She loves him.”
He didn’t realize he’d said the words out loud until Ross clamped a bracing hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she does. But sometimes people act out of a misguided sense of what’s right.”
It was true. In the past, Andrew had searched for children who’d been abducted by noncustodial parents. When the children were found, some of the parents were stunned they were being arrested for “abducting” their child. They insisted they were “rescuing” them.
Was it really possible Miranda had abducted Daniel? A sick feeling spread through him like a cancer, eating away at his peace of mind. Making him doubt.
He remembered what it had felt like to be taken from away from his family. The rough hands that had urged him into the damp basement. The heavy footsteps pacing over his head. The eyes burning with hostility behind the slits in the mask his abductor had worn. The shoot-out with the police that had resulted in the death of the man who’d taken him from his family.
No matter what the situation—stranger or noncustodial parent—a missing child was a frightened child. A child who needed to be found and brought back home.
Was Daniel one of those children?
Everything inside him rebelled against it.
God, help me find out the truth. I know You’ve been working in Miranda’s life. Your word promises You’ll work all things together for good for those who love You. You know I love You and I trust You. No matter what happens, draw Miranda to You. Show her that You are faithful. That You love her.
The truth crashed over him. His feelings for Miranda may have been rooted in friendship but at some point in time, she’d worked her way into his heart.
He loved her, too.
Miranda parked her car in front of the Cavanaughs’ home and quickly plucked out the tiny shard of envy that lodged in her heart at the sight of the spacious lawn surrounding the older, well-kept home. The kind of home she wanted for Daniel. Warm and welcoming. The lush grass was neatly trimmed and flowers bordered the stone foundation of the house, a cheerful explosion of color as unique as the clothing Leah wore. A pink playhouse built to resemble a whimsical miniature castle nestled in the comforting shade of an ancient oak.
Daniel and Olivia careened around the side of the house, a shaggy dog the size of a bear cub loping along behind them.
“Mom!” Daniel veered off course and met her on the cobbled sidewalk. “Can we stay longer?”
“Please,” Olivia chimed in.
“You’ve been here all morning.” Miranda hugged him hard and smiled at Olivia. “I take it you two had fun.”
Both heads bobbed vigorously.
“This is Bear.” Olivia grabbed the dog’s leather collar just before he bowled Miranda over. “Dad says Bear thinks he’s a Chihuahua.”
The dog groaned contentedly when Miranda reached down to scratch his ear. “Where is your mom?”
“She’s in the kitchen making peanut-butter cookies.” Olivia lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you go inside, you have to be quiet. Joseph is taking a nap.”
“I will,” Miranda promised. “You have exactly five minutes. You better make the most of them.” She winked at Olivia. “Daniel will be back tomorrow morning.”
“Daniel told me you’re a nice mom,” Olivia said with a grin. She grabbed his hand and they raced to the playhouse.
Unexpected tears stung Miranda’s eyes as the sound of their laughter bubbled out of the castle.
“I’m trying, Lorraine,” she whispered. “I know the only thing you and Thomas wanted was to raise Daniel. And you probably wouldn’t have made the mistakes I’ve made. But no one could love Daniel as much as I do. And I promise I’ll stop looking over my shoulder and I’ll concentrate on making a home for him. He’ll have good friends like Olivia and I’ll let him play baseball. And I’ll…I’ll take him to church because I know that’s what you would have wanted.”
Without realizing it, the words had carried her up the path to the front door. Where Leah waited.
“Can you stay for a cup of coffee? I’ll bring it to you for a change.”
Miranda hesitated, knowing Daniel and Olivia would be thrilled with a few extra minutes to play.
“Peanut-butter cookies, fresh from the oven?”
“A bribe?” Miranda was only half joking.
“I prefer to call it an incentive.” Leah’s smile was mischievous as she motioned for Miranda to follow her inside.
The handcrafted oak table was a worthy centerpiece in the large kitchen that reflected the cozy atmosphere of the rest of the home. Just like in Miranda’s own kitchen, Leah had filled a canning jar with fresh flowers. Breezy muslin valances framed the large window over the sink and a collection of Olivia’s artwork graced the sunny yellow walls.
“An incentive.” Miranda perched on the edge of one of the chairs, reluctant to get too comfortable. “I’m going to have to remember that when I’m trying to get Daniel to eat something other than macaroni and cheese for lunch.”
“No one said parenting is easy.” Leah poured two cups of coffee and sat down opposite Miranda at the table. “Olivia was already seven when Ben and I got married. I may have been a nanny, but I had a lot of catching up to do when it came to being a mom.”
“So did—” Miranda pressed her lips together, horrified she’d almost said the words out loud. So did I. Exactly why she found it safer to keep her distance from people. When she let her guard down, bits and pieces of her past could escape.
Leah continued as if Miranda hadn’t snapped off the end of her sentence. “The hardest thing was discipline. Olivia would flash those puppy-dog eyes at me and I’d say yes to just about anything.”
Daniel’s soulful brown eyes came instantly to mind. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Leah raised her coffee cup. “To mothers. All for one and one for all.”
“Didn’t the three musketeers say that?”
“Yes, but I’m sure they heard it from their mothers first.” Leah grinned.
Miranda raised her hand and the two cups clinked together.
As if on cue, the baby monitor on the kitchen counter crackled and they heard Joseph coo.
“Excuse me, friend.” Leah paused just long enough to slide some cookies onto a plate and deposit them in front of Miranda. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Friend.
A few weeks ago, that word and the expectations attached to it would have made Miranda bolt for the door the second Leah left the room. She didn’t need friends. Hadn’t wanted them. Five minutes in Leah’s company and she’d almost blurted out something guaranteed to stir Leah’s curiosity. Raise questions Miranda couldn’t answer.
So why are you still here?
The quiet voice that invaded her thoughts encouraged honesty. Miranda shifted in the chair.
Because Daniel needs friends.
She offered up the logical answer and her heart immediately rejected it. It was getting harder to keep it in line, as if it were no longer willing to stay imprisoned by the past.
Maybe I need friends, too.
The softly spoken words didn’t just spill over the walls she’d spent years erecting, they wiped them out. She found more freedom in the truth than in her halfhearted attempts to rationalize her fears. And if she followed this new feeling to its source, she knew exactly who she’d find there. God.
Was it possible He was still there? That maybe He’d never left her at all?
Stunned by the revelation, Miranda didn’t hear Leah approach until she appeared in the doorway with Joseph in her arms.
“I wish I could nap in the afternoons,” Leah said as she sank into the chair. “I’d wake up all bright eyed and bushy tailed like this little guy.”
Joseph did look alert. His eyes tracked his mother’s voice to her face and he grinned up at her.
“Is he still waking up a lot during the night?”
Leah shook her head. “I was up a lot last night but I can’t blame Joseph. I was praying for Ben.” Leah hesitated and a shadow swept across her face. “Sandra might have mentioned that Ross found Ben’s birth mother. Yesterday he called the number Ross had given him and found out she passed away several years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” The words sounded small to Miranda’s ears. “That must have been hard.”
“It was,” Leah agreed. “But it helps to know our friends are praying for us. And to know that God loves us. God never wastes our pain or our tears. We might not understand the reasons why we go through hard times, but we choose to trust He’ll ultimately use them for His glory.”
For Her Son's Love Page 15
