To Heal A Heart (Love Inspired)

by Arlene James

  “We’re ninety and nine,” Ivan said with a wink, “a perfect combination.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Robin declared, suddenly pulling away and dancing in place.

  Sontag sighed. “All right, all right.” He was smiling as he ushered the child up the aisle.

  “Quite a charming pair,” Piper commented, retaking her seat. “Mr. Sontag is awfully spry for ninety.”

  Mitch folded himself down beside her. “Do you recognize the name?” he asked.

  It did seem oddly familiar, but she shook her head.

  “Sontag diamonds?”

  Her eyes rounded. She’d seen the billboards and the glossy magazine advertisements. “Really?”

  Mitch nodded. “Very old money and lots of it. His grandson-in-law runs the business now, I understand.”

  “Robin’s father?”

  “Yes. The boy lives with Ivan, though.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  Mitch crossed his legs and brushed lint from the thigh of his trousers. “His parents are…not pleased to have a Down’s syndrome child. They prefer to concentrate on their two normal children.”

  Piper felt her heart turn over in her chest. “Poor Robin.”

  “Oh, no,” Mitch corrected. “He’s a very wealthy child. Ivan saw to it after his son died in a small airplane crash some years ago. It seems that Robin was the only family member not mentioned in some way in his grandfather’s will.”

  Piper shook her head. “What’s going to happen to him after Mr. Sontag goes?”

  “He’ll own a mansion in Highland Park, be attended by a board of executors, live at the finest schools with the finest doctors in Switzerland, along with his longtime nanny and caretaker.”

  “And for all that he’ll be alone,” Piper said pensively.

  “I’m afraid so,” Mitch agreed.

  What fools, Piper thought, to abandon one’s own family. She felt her skin grow cold suddenly as a heretofore unacknowledged truth hit her squarely between the eyes. If Robin’s parents and grandparents were fools, then she had to include herself among them. Perhaps Robin’s family had abandoned him, but she had abandoned her whole family. There really was no other way to describe it; she saw that now. Yet, what could be done about it?

  Mitch shifted beside her, and she told herself sternly that this was not the time to try to think things through. Instead, she made an attempt to shake off the melancholy. An instant later she felt Mitch’s arm settle about her shoulders.

  “Cold?”

  “It is a little chilly in here,” she mumbled, feeling his warmth with a shock of realization.

  He snuggled her close to his side, smiling down at her. “Better?”

  It was. Indeed it was. So much so that her heart crawled up to lodge in her throat. She laid her head on his shoulder, as much to hide her confusion as to enjoy the heat, comfort and shelter of his big, solid body.

  How could it be, she wondered, that the one man who most troubled her was also the one who most put her at ease and made her feel safe?

  Chapter Eight

  Had she thought him dangerous? She couldn’t imagine why. On the other hand, there was much that she didn’t know about him. She cleared her throat.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  She pondered where to begin. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-eight. You?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “I knew you were young.”

  She lifted her head at that. “I’m not young. Melissa’s young. I’m…not young.”

  “I didn’t say too young.”

  “Oh.”

  He gently pushed her head back down upon his shoulder, and she left it there for a moment while she tried to puzzle out her own reactions. Sometimes she simply didn’t understand herself. How, then, could she even hope to understand him? All she knew was that she wanted to.

  “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Same answer as the first time.”

  She rolled her eyes upward, gazing at the strong line of his jaw. “Why have you never remarried?”

  He lifted his hand and brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek, prompting her to lift her head and meet his velvet-blue gaze.

  “I guess I’ve been waiting for God to bring the right woman into my life,” he said carefully.

  Piper gulped. Her? Was he considering her as that woman?

  His eyes, a smoky blue now, seemed to say so.

  Her heart stopped, only to pick up again at double speed when his hand rested on her cheek.

  “I want to kiss you,” he confessed softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. At a more appropriate moment, may I?”

  The irises of his eyes were ringed now with a thin line the same shade of blue as that at the base of a flame, hot enough to scorch, to steal the air from her lungs. She couldn’t get enough breath to answer him, so she simply nodded. Smiling, he pressed her head back down onto his shoulder and linked his hands, bringing both arms around her.

  He wanted to kiss her, had asked permission to kiss her. She had half believed that he felt sorry for her, but no! That was her feeling sorry for herself. He just wanted, was waiting, for someone to love. How could she think that it might be her? How could he? Her head swirled. All the butterflies in the universe fluttered around inside her.

  He wasn’t just dangerous, this man. He was lethal!

  And she didn’t care—couldn’t, somehow, even with everything a mess, her life upside down and inside out, the past an open gash in her heart.

  Oh, God, help me, she thought, and she didn’t even know why—couldn’t find words for what she was asking. But wasn’t that the problem? She had been in over her head so long that she didn’t even know which way was up, and now here was Mitchell Sayer, towing her by the hand, but in which direction? Not that it mattered anymore. Without him she was lost. Perhaps even with him she was lost, but at least she wasn’t alone—not for now, anyway.

  She turned her face into the curve of his neck and for the first time in a very long while let herself just be. She would worry about the mess she’d made of her life later. For now it was enough just to be with Mitch.

  Presently the house lights flickered and began to lower. The audience and musicians quickly returned to their positions. Robin and Mr. Sontag were among the last, escorted by a uniformed usher who shone a tiny light on the floor, to mark their way along the darkened aisle. No sooner were they in their seats than the program began. Just as the welcoming applause died away and the maestro lifted his baton, Robin turned to hiss a giggling explanation at Piper and Mitch.

  “The line was very long! I almost wet myself!”

  The man next to Piper shushed the child curtly. Piper glared at him, but Mr. Sontag whispered to Robin, and the boy turned dutifully toward the stage, flashing a little smile at Piper. That smile seemed to say, “You and I know I’m special.” And so he was. In fact, Piper reflected, everything about this evening was special.

  She laid her head back against Mitch’s arm and stared up at the high ceiling, letting the music wash over her in lush waves of pure beauty. She felt at peace, adrift on a sea of calm, and yet keenly aware of the strong arms about her, the solid body at her side.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  She must not have mucked up her life so terribly badly after all. Perhaps one day she’d look around and find that all the monsters had vanished.

  The end of the program came as a surprise to Piper. It seemed only moments had passed since the intermission. Yet people were getting to their feet, Mitch included, to applaud. He lifted her up with him as he rose, one arm tucking neatly around her back, his hand at her waist. Piper tried to clap appreciatively enough for both of them. The applause seemed to last longer than the performance, with the maestro taking bow after bow.

  Finally it was over. The audience moved into the aisles, speaking and laughing in low tones. With some concern Piper saw that Sontag and his
great-grandson had managed to get into the throng ahead of them. Robin clutched Ivan’s hand almost desperately and leaned against his side as they shuffled along, the crowd buffeting them. The boy seemed half-asleep on his feet, and the old man wasn’t any steadier. Piper grew worried for them, as time and again some abler person jostled them aside. At times Sontag wavered as if he might fall. She looked up at Mitch and saw that he was equally troubled.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and shouldering his way through the crowd, towing her behind him. “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.”

  They caught up with the pair about halfway to the exits. Mitch released Piper’s hand to toss Robin up into his arms. The child wrapped himself around Mitch unquestioningly, his head dropping onto Mitch’s shoulder. Piper slipped an arm around the old man’s bent shoulders—he was no taller than the tip of her nose—and did her best to steady him as they inched toward the lobby.

  The crowd scattered in all directions once they made it through the exits, and Sontag paused for a moment to recoup his strength and get his bearings. He glanced at Mitch and his dozing grandchild. Wincing, he opined, “I can’t carry him anymore. He’s dead weight when he’s exhausted. I shouldn’t have agreed to stay past the intermission, but he loves the music so.”

  “Just show us which way to go, sir,” Mitch said mildly.

  The elderly man glanced around and pointed. “The car’s waiting outside that door.” It was almost opposite the door through which they had entered at the beginning of the evening.

  “Just follow me,” Mitch said, starting across the crowded lobby. People were lined up twenty deep at that particular door, but Mitch wasn’t letting that deter him. He once again forged a path, one arm holding Robin snug, the other ushering both Piper and Mr. Sontag.

  They reached the sidewalk in far less time than Piper had expected. An African-American driver wearing blue jeans, a white sport shirt and a red ball cap popped out of an aging limo and hurried around to open the rear door before reaching up to take Robin from Mitch.

  “Aw, the baby’s sleeping,” he cooed, dipping under the boy’s weight. “It’s all right, honey. Red’s got you.”

  “Put him in this side,” Sontag instructed the driver. “I’ll go around.”

  “Aunt Velma’s got your bed all turned down,” Red was telling the grumbling child. “You just rest yourself till I get you home.”

  While he tucked the boy into the back seat of the limo, clucking like a mother hen, Sontag turned to Mitch and Piper. “Red’s my arms and legs. He’ll take care of us now. Thank you both for your assistance.”

  “Our pleasure,” Mitch said for both of them.

  Piper nodded. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “We’ll see one another again,” Sontag assured her, placing his gnarled hands on her shoulders. “Mitchell’s too smart not to keep you on his arm.” Stretching up, he kissed her cheek lightly with his papery lips before laboriously turning away.

  The driver stepped up to take his elbow and ease him down off the curb, chiding gently, “I swear, Ivan, you’re gonna worry me to death. I’ve been waiting for y’all this hour. You’re no spring chicken to be staying out all night.”

  “Stop your scolding, man. It was the boy.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Ignoring that drollery, Sontag looked back over his shoulder. “Take your pretty bird home, Mitchell,” he ordered, “and give my best to your parents.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Red settled the old man into the car beside Robin and hurried to get behind the steering wheel. Piper waved as Mitchell guided her away.

  They didn’t try to go back through the bustling lobby, electing instead to walk around the building, though that was the longer way. Mitch kept to the outside next to the curb, his arm protectively circling her waist. He seemed to be in a hurry, so much so that they crossed the street against the light, weaving in and out amongst the cars queued up at the intersection.

  He took one look at the mob waiting for the elevators in the parking garage and headed for the stairs, asking, “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just one floor.”

  “Come on, then.”

  He took the steps two at a time, but didn’t try to rush her as she climbed steadily in her heels. Once they reached the correct level, however, he set off at a long stride, requiring her to pace swiftly in order to keep up.

  She bit back a sigh of relief when they reached his car. He hurried ahead and had the passenger door open for her when she arrived. She dropped smoothly into the seat. He was in his place next to her before she got her safety belt buckled. In an instant the motor was running, and they were nosing out into the exiting traffic.

  Thankfully it was moving swiftly, but when she looked over at Mitch, he was rubbing a hand over his jaw in apparent frustration.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hmm?” He smiled at her suddenly and reached across to squeeze her hand. “I’m great.”

  The car in front of them swung onto the street, and Mitch took his hand back in order to follow suit, turning the wheel swiftly to the right and gunning the engine. They caught two red lights, and then sailed smoothly through emptying streets. Within a quarter hour the smart foreign coupe was pulling into one of the exterior parking spaces in front of her building.

  She opened her mouth to say that getting out of the garage had been relatively painless after all, but she would have been talking to an empty seat, as he was already out and closing the door. The man was in an almighty rush all of a sudden, she thought, as evidenced by her door popping open and his hand reaching down for her. She had no sooner slung the chain strap of her handbag over her shoulder and set a foot on the ground than he was pulling her up.

  He looked down at her, and his hand slid up her arm. A car turned off the street into the tiny lot. Mitch dropped his hand, clamped it around her elbow and ushered her toward the security gate. He was punching in the code before they even came to a stop, and then the gate was swinging open and she felt herself carefully guided through it.

  “Your key?” he asked, striding forward. “Where’s your key?”

  She stumbled slightly when she looked down to open her handbag, but he barely broke stride, drawing her along with him. She managed to get the key out of her little bag by the time they reached her apartment, and Mitch was quick to take it from her fingers. He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. She found herself being swept into the darkness, the door closing behind her.

  “Mitch…” she began, shocked into silence when he abruptly spun her around.

  “At last—an appropriate moment,” he said, cupping her face with both hands.

  Realizing suddenly just why he was rushing so, she burbled a laugh, but then his lips gently met hers, and laughter turned to delight as his lips drew her in. After a long moment he slowly lifted his head, gradually breaking the kiss.

  Her eyelids fluttered up, feeling weighted, as warmth pulsed through her. She found herself looking straight into evening-sky eyes. His thumb lightly rubbed across her lower lip, and then he dropped his hands. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin.

  For several moments he simply held her, but then he curled a knuckle beneath her chin and tilted her face up again. Once again, his kiss was tender. Cradled against him, she slipped her arms about his waist and let herself be thoroughly kissed. She felt toasty and strangely energized by the time he lifted his head again, just long enough to lay his cheek against hers.

  “Well,” he commented softly, that one word holding enough meaning to describe all the wonders of the world.

  She put her head back and laughed throatily. It was the fullest, most right moment that she had felt in a very long time.

  “I should go,” he said, smiling broadly. “It’s getting late.”

  She nodded and felt him slip away. “It was a wonderful evening, Mitch. Thank you.”

  He shook his head an
d pressed two fingers across her lips. “I’m not the one to thank.”

  She knew what he meant, and she was surprised by how very much she wanted to believe that this night, even their meeting, had been engineered in heaven.

  “Will I see you tomorrow for lunch?”

  “Absolutely.”

  With that he left her alone in the dark.

  Piper sighed and leaned over to switch on a lamp before gliding dreamily from the room, humming to herself.

  Perhaps she really had done the right thing by coming here. She began to feel a real burgeoning of hope. It was enough to hold the past at bay for a little longer.

  Mitch arrived ahead of her at the square on Wednesday, but she showed up with a bright smile for him a few minutes later, bubbling with the discovery that after a year of employment her company would pay her tuition if she went back to college for her master’s degree. She would have to continue working, of course, and promise them a year of employment after earning the advanced degree, but it was something to consider. He suggested that it couldn’t hurt to investigate the course material and majors offered. She said she’d look into it and asked if he’d write her a recommendation, should one be required.

  That seemed to say to Mitch that she was looking toward the future—and that he just might be in the picture.

  “Sure, if it’ll help, but I’d think one of your managers here or at your old job would carry more weight.”

  “Could be,” she said, ducking her head, suddenly subdued.

  “Look,” he counseled gently, “I know you’re not crazy about your job, but there must be a reason you were led to it. I’m a firm believer that there are no accidents in life.”

  She looked up at him sharply. “You really think that?”

  “Yes.”

  She bit her lip, and after a moment shook her head, but she said no more on the subject, remarking instead about how much she had enjoyed the previous evening’s concert. He wondered what it was that wouldn’t let her believe that God was in control of her life when she so obviously wanted to.