“Is Autumn your daughter?” Nathan’s mother asked.
“Yes,” Matt said, then added, “I’m Matt Graham.”
“Nice to meet you,” she answered. “I’m Jessica Martin. This is my husband, Chad, and our daughter Lainey. And that, of course, is Nathan. He and Autumn are in the same class at school.”
“Well, he seems like a very nice little boy.”
“We’re kind of prejudiced about that,” her husband said with a grin, “but he really is.”
Jessica Martin glanced at the kids then lowered her voice. “Nathan has been praying for Autumn every night, that she’ll talk again. Well, that she’d talk more than a few words. That’s what he has said in his prayers.” She paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything, but he was very excited in class today when he heard her talking, and he said God answered his prayer with a yes. That’s a big deal for Nathan.” She smiled, and Matt’s chest ached with gratefulness for the boy’s kind gesture toward his little girl.
He swallowed, looked again at Nathan Martin, who Matt was determined to pray for before the day was over. It was time he prayed again, for sure. “I appreciate his prayers for Autumn,” he said. “More than you could ever know. And the fact that God did indeed say yes.”
Hannah looked up, evidently hearing Matt’s comment, and she smiled. That smile, like the knowledge of Nathan’s prayer, caused Matt’s heart to squeeze. And Matt found himself staring into eyes that seemed to understand exactly what he felt, exactly what he wanted. Because right now what he wanted more than anything else was to feel whole again, with Autumn and with God. And even though he knew there was a risk, a big risk…perhaps even with Hannah Taylor.
“I found one!” Autumn exclaimed then she held up an orange fish with James written on its side. She picked up the two fish she’d retrieved earlier and moved to Nathan. “Here, Nathan,” she said, extending the three fish toward the still snarling boy.
His sandy brows drew down, green eyes squinted. “What’s that?”
“Peter, James and John,” she said. “Since all you got was a bunch of Andrew.”
Jessica and Chad’s laughter caused Nathan to give them a bit of a glare, but then he looked at Autumn and his toothless grin took over. He accepted the plastic fish with a somewhat embarrassed, “Thanks.” Then he stuffed the four fish in his pockets, which was a bit difficult, but he managed, and told Autumn, “Isn’t it cool when God says yes?”
Autumn nodded. “Yes.”
“You need to get your fish,” Nathan then instructed. “So you’ll have something to play with in big church.” Then he shot a look at his parents and added, “While you’re listening to Brother Henry.”
Chad and Jessica Martin were still laughing as they exited the classroom, and the remaining kids’ parents all came and took their children, with each family making a point to introduce themselves to Matt and Autumn. Matt enjoyed the feeling of a church family, the way everyone knew each other and undeniably cared about each other. He had missed this portion of his life.
“Can we help you clean up?” he asked, watching Hannah gather up the extra coloring pages.
“You don’t have to, but I never turn down help picking up,” she said with a grin. She indicated the crayons, scattered around the tables like lengthy pieces of colorful confetti. “You can put the crayons in those plastic baskets if you want.”
“I’ll help you, Daddy,” Autumn said.
“That’d be great.” Matt dropped to his knees since the tables were kid-size and since he wanted to be closer to Autumn. “Is there a certain way we’re supposed to do this?” he asked Hannah. “One color in each basket or anything like that?”
Hannah had finished gathering the coloring sheets and was beginning to untangle the fishing lines. “I usually try to make sure each basket has a few of each color. That way they’re ready to go for the Wednesday night class.”
“Gotcha.” Matt and Autumn continued working together, her small hand brushing his occasionally as they placed crayons in the small plastic bins.
“This is fun, huh, Daddy?” she asked.
“Yes, honey, it sure is.” They finished with the crayons, and he stacked the baskets on top of each other. “Where do they go now?”
Hannah was seated on the floor and still working on the fishing lines. She looked up, and one brown wave shifted into her right eye. Squinting, she blew it out of the way then grinned. “Anywhere on the shelf over there is fine.”
“I’ll put them up,” Autumn said happily, and she shuffled the baskets to the shelves.
Matt moved toward Hannah. “Need a little help?”
She’d managed to untangle four of the lines, but the other six poles were still bound together in a knotted mess. “I wasn’t thinking about how easily the fishing line would get tangled when I had them drop their poles back in the bucket. We didn’t have to use all ten either, so I should have pulled the extra ones out, I suppose. Then maybe I wouldn’t have all of this.” She indicated the tangled mess.
“I believe it might work better if we take one of the magnets and work it back through.” Matt reached for one of the tiny gray magnets then ran a thumb and forefinger along the clear line toward the thick knot until he determined which string to follow.
Hannah still worked on the largest knot, and Matt’s fingers slid into hers as he slowly, gently pushed the magnet through. He noticed a slight tremble when their skin touched, then he looked up and didn’t miss the way her cheeks had grown flush.
Matt swallowed, nodded toward the knot, the magnet in his hand, and the place where their hands now met. “I think sometimes it works best to take it one step at a time, instead of trying to work everything out at once.”
Her eyes were dark, rich with emotion, and Matt wanted to ask her what she was feeling now, whether it was anything near what pulsed through him, the urge to hold her, to care for her, to really get to know the beauty of Hannah Taylor and let her continue to touch his heart, touch his soul.
“Did you hurt your eyes?” Autumn’s voice broke through the moment, and Matt’s little girl leaned her head over his shoulder to peer at Hannah.
Hannah blinked, looked from Matt to Autumn, and smiled, her cheeks once again tinged with color. “My eyes?”
Autumn nodded and leaned against Matt to point toward Hannah’s eyes, or more precisely to the area below each eye, where smudges had formed from her earlier tears of laughter.
Matt hadn’t even noticed, which made him even more aware of how fascinated he was by the woman in front of him. But now, thanks to Autumn’s observance, he did see that Hannah’s eye makeup had worked its way down toward her cheeks.
He grinned. “Your mascara,” he said. “It’s here.” He ran a finger beneath one of his eyes to show her where.
Again, her cheeks flushed, and Matt was drawn to the beauty of her emotion, so easily seen in her expression. She rubbed beneath her eyes and smeared the dark smudge further.
Autumn giggled.
“Worse?” Hannah asked.
Autumn nodded. “But you’re still pretty,” she said, which caused Matt to chuckle.
“Here,” he said, withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket. “Let me help.” He turned the soft fabric to place a corner in his grasp, then moved closer and gently rubbed the smudge away from the right eye, then the left. Tilting his head, he examined his handiwork and nodded. “All gone.”
Autumn nodded too then moved to the other side of the room to get her take-home bag.
“She was right, though,” Matt said quietly.
“Right?” Hannah asked, as the two of them stood, and she smoothed a hand across her bright floral skirt.
“Even with the smudges, you’re still pretty.” He absolutely loved the way those cheeks tinged with the slightest pink, and the way her throat gently pulsed as she swallowed through his compliment. “Very pretty,” he added.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“You can say thanks,” he said,
smiling, and really enjoying the fact that he found it so easy to smile around Hannah Taylor.
“It’s time for big church now, right?” Autumn asked, moving toward them with her take-home bag in her hand. A red plastic fish, one of four, Matt assumed, stuck halfway out of the top of the brown paper sack.
Hannah glanced at the big round clock on her classroom wall. “Yes, it is time for big church,” she said, a hint of embarrassment playing across her features. “We can go now.”
Autumn started toward the door.
Matt turned to follow, but stopped when he heard his name.
“And Matt,” Hannah said softly.
He turned back. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
Chapter Four
After the church service ended, Matt watched Hannah disappear with most of the other women in the congregation to prepare the food for a “dinner on the grounds.” He’d enjoyed being around her in this atmosphere. Their moment in the classroom with the tangled fishing line was nothing short of magical. Sure, he’d mentally warned himself to control the attraction, because he couldn’t risk growing attached to another woman with cancer. But he simply couldn’t stop the desire to be with her, talk to her, laugh with her.
Seeing her interact with everyone at church only added to his impression that Hannah Taylor was something special. She was right at home in the congregation, chatting with the women around her and laughing as they discussed the abundance of food in the kitchen and the abundance of men chomping at the bit to get to it all. And the way she looked at her father throughout the morning, the happiness that beamed from her at seeing him in church, was breathtaking. But it wasn’t her interactions with the church ladies or her happiness toward her father or even her delight toward Autumn’s communication progress that touched Matt the most.
It was the way she looked at him. And the way she glanced away when he caught her looking. And the way she grew flush when he gave her a compliment. And the way she made him feel, as though he could survive anything, everything, with her by his side.
“Come on, Daddy, everyone’s going outside,” Autumn said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his reverie.
Maura stood a few feet away, her arms crossed and her eyes scrutinizing as she surveyed his expression. She saw him catch her gaze and winked, tilted her head knowingly and mouthed, “There’s that look.”
Matt shook his head at her but unfortunately felt his own embarrassment heating his cheeks, so he smiled, turned and walked outside with Autumn tugging his hand and Maura walking alongside them chuckling.
“Stop fighting it, William,” she whispered.
“Wow, look at all the people,” he said, ignoring her comment and instead marveling at the area bustling with excitement beside the church. He heard her laugh again and was glad to see Bo Taylor moving toward her and taking her attention off of Matt.
“Glad to see y’all are staying for the meal, too,” Bo said. Then the two of them walked a few feet away and began discussing the worship service and the upcoming church activities for people their age.
Several members of the congregation made their way to Matt and Autumn, introduced themselves and welcomed them to the church. Matt had seen a few of them in his office or around town, but there was something different about introductions made at a church. People were friendlier, and definitely happier, almost as if they knew what a big step this was, for Matt to return to church and to bring Autumn and Maura back to God as well. He should have done this a long time ago, two years ago, in fact. It’d have been good for Autumn and Maura. And Matt.
The weather was perfect for the event, not overly hot and not too cold, simply a clear fall day that seemed made for an outdoor fellowship meal. Nathan wasted no time finding Autumn and taking her to the church playground, near the long assemblage of concrete picnic tables that were slowly but surely filling up with some of the best-smelling food Matt had been around in ages. Maura enjoyed cooking, but cooking for three didn’t really lend itself to a lot of variety. Most of their dishes were one-pot meals, like spaghetti, chili, stew, or soup. The food laid out before him now was a smorgasbord of Southern hospitality.
Jana Gillespie, moving more in a side-to-side fashion than a steady walk, exited the side door of the church carrying a large casserole dish with two bright green potholders. Matt smiled at her and was always glad to see a breast cancer survivor doing so well, especially in her pregnancy. That’d been the primary question from most of his patients in Atlanta after hearing their prognosis. Can I still have children? Matt was glad that in most cases, he could tell them yes.
“Come on, I’ll give you the lay of the land,” Jana said to Matt as she passed him. “Because everybody has their favorites, so you’ll need to kind of know what you’re going for if you want the good stuff. Visitors get to go at the front of the line, you know, so you’ll have an edge on your competition.” She tilted her head toward her husband and a few other guys he stood beside near the table.
Jessica Martin walked closely behind Jana and had a basket of yeast rolls in one hand and a casserole dish in the other. She shot a look at her husband, standing next to Mitch Gillespie near the beginning of the tables. Chad Martin held their little girl and whispered in her ear as her mommy neared.
The toddler—Lainey, Matt recalled—pulled her butterfly pacifier from her mouth and laughed, then blew her mommy a kiss. Jessica blew one back. “Yes, visitors do go first,” she said, pitching her voice toward the two men. “Although some people like to use, say, a toddler in their arms to convince people that they should have preferential treatment.”
“Lainey’s hungry,” Chad said, “Aren’t you, sweetie?” He bobbed his head with the question and naturally the toddler followed suit.
“Uh-huh, after all of the snacks she ate during the service, I think she can wait her turn.” Jessica shot him an accusatory look. “Unlike some people I know. And you should be ashamed of trying to use your daughter for your own gain.”
“Jess catches me every time,” Chad said, laughing, and holding up one hand in surrender as he backed away from the table.
Mitch yelled toward his wife in an effort to defend his presence at the head of the line. “Jana, in case you’re wondering, I was minding my own business and visiting with Chad. It just so happened that he was standing near the beginning of the line.” He shrugged, grinned and looked guilty.
“Sure you were.” She laughed and placed the steaming casserole dish on the table. “Why don’t you two go check out the end of the line? There are quite a few new desserts this time.”
“Your wife isn’t fooling me,” Chad said with a shrug. “She’s moving us away from the plates.”
“She isn’t fooling me, either,” Mitch said.
“But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go check out the desserts,” Chad said.
“Okay, I’m game.”
Chad nodded toward Jessica. “Besides, I’m sure she’d rat us out to Brother Henry anyway.”
“That’s right, I would. Now, go check out the new dessert Dorothy Collins brought. I heard her say something about blueberry yum-yum.”
“Sounds like we need to investigate,” Chad said.
“Can Lainey come and play with us?” Nathan yelled from the playground, and the blonde in Chad’s arms squirmed and reached for the ground.
“Play,” she said. “Peese?”
“Sure, but you keep an eye on your little sister,” Chad said, putting the wiggling toddler down, then grinning as she ran toward Nathan, Autumn and several other children, all exerting pent-up energy they had accumulated from sitting through class and “big church.”
Chad nodded toward Matt. “Come on, you can help us go check out this new dessert. Maybe Mrs. Collins will let us have a sample early.”
“Matt’s coming with me,” Jana reminded. “I’m telling you, having a game plan for filling your plate is a priority here, and I need to help him out if he’s going to compete with you guys.”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Matt said to the two men.
“Yeah, it’s better to be smart and not mess with a pregnant woman when she issues an order, especially when she’s my wife.” Then Mitch lowered his voice and added, “But I’m fairly certain she wants to talk to you about more than the food. Just so you know.” He smiled knowingly, and Matt found himself wondering what was really behind this “order” from Hannah’s sister. Even so, he followed her directive and moved to stand beside her at the beginning of the chain of tables.
“All right,” Jana said, “everything starts with the salads. We’ve got every kind of salad you can think of and probably a few you’ve never heard of. So here goes. This is the seven-layer salad, Mrs. Tingle’s specialty, and it’s amazing. Then there’s the three-bean salad that Brother Henry’s wife, Mary, makes. After that, there’s broccoli salad, potato salad with onions and celery, and potato salad without onions and celery. That one depends on whether you like your potato salad crunchy or smooth. Then there’s macaroni salad and sweet pea salad. Oh, and we have traditional green salad,” she said, pointing to the one that looked the most familiar.
“Got it.” Matt mentally pictured the seven-layer salad and potato salad—smooth, not crunchy—on his plate.
She grinned, and he noticed how her smile was almost identical to Hannah’s, except for a dimple piercing each cheek. “Good deal.” She stepped to the next section, but stopped her pace and moved her hand back to her belly. “Whoa.” Her face tightened, and she appeared to hold her breath for a moment, then she exhaled.
“Just so you know, delivering babies isn’t my specialty,” Matt said, “but I’ll do my best.”
She laughed, but it seemed a bit forced, as though she might still be feeling a hint of that pain. “Braxton-Hicks contractions, false labor, or whatever you want to call it,” she said, putting a hand on the table behind her and easing down, which caused her husband to jump into action and leave his new spot by the desserts.
“You okay?” Mitch asked, appearing instantly at his wife’s side.
Healing Autumn's Heart (Love Inspired) Page 7
