A Mother's Heart (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 6)

by Carolyne Aarsen

  She shrugged and gave in.

  “Andy Donnel was the first real boyfriend I ever had. We dated in high school, and I was crazy about him, but he wasn’t very demonstrative, and I accepted that because I didn’t know any different. Looking back now, I think we slipped from being friends to dating, to getting engaged. It was easy and convenient. We’d known each other all our lives. It wasn’t the great romantic love story, but I thought that’s just how things went. After we were engaged, he put pressure on me to… to be more… intimate…” her voice faded off as she looked down, struggling with the usual shame she knew she shouldn’t carry but couldn’t let go of.

  “It’s okay, I think I know where you’re going,” Nik said. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

  “Anyway, we pushed the wedding date up, got married, moved into a tiny apartment and after Emma was born Andy changed.”

  “How so?” Nik encouraged.

  Part of her wanted to stop but everyone around her knew her story so she had never talked about Andy and the repercussions for her. What it had truly been like.

  “He would go to the bar after work, come home drunk and angry, accusing me and Emma of ruining his life.” Claire shook her head, glancing over to where Emma was playing, laughing and running around. “As if that beautiful child was something to regret.”

  “She certainly isn’t.”

  He sounded sad and Claire shot him a puzzled look, but he was looking at Emma as well, his eyes holding the same sorrow his voice did. She sensed his story held more layers, but then he seemed to shake it off.

  “So, what happened to him?” he continued. “Did he leave you?”

  “Yes. He did.” It had been over five years but the betrayal still stung. “I remember waking up the next morning and he wasn’t there. At first, I thought he might be sleeping off another bender. I brought Emma to the day home. But when I came home from work, Andy still wasn’t back.” Claire stopped a moment, fighting down the usual anger her memories created. The humiliation. She took a deep, calming breath and carried on. “A couple of days later I got a text from him. He wasn’t coming home. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me or Emma. He wanted a divorce.” She didn’t add the other awful things he had said. Though she deleted the text as soon as she read it, the words were indelibly branded into her mind.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Nik said, taking her hand in his again.

  “I was, too.” She kept her eyes on their interlocked hands, her thumb caressing the back of his. It felt good to hold his hand, larger than her own, holding a few scars, large and strong.

  “So you’re divorced?”

  “Actually, no. We never did manage to get the papers signed. I’m a widow. Andy was killed crossing the street as he left a bar a year ago. He still had life insurance and I was still the beneficiary which gave me something at least.”

  “But not enough for a down payment on the house?”

  “I used the money to start Coffee Creek. I figured I needed income before I could buy a house. I kept a few thousand aside for my house fund. Selling Andy’s car was supposed to top it up.” She shook her head. “But we both know how that ended.”

  “You’ve had a hard road, too,” he said.

  She gave him a sad-half-smile as acknowledgement. “I have. But I was blessed to have the support of my family and my church community.”

  “No condemnation from them?”

  “Of course not. I’m sure there were a few people who thought I should have done more. Andy’s mother being one of them.”

  “Are Andy’s parents still around here?”

  “No. Andy’s father died before we got married so at least he didn’t have to see what happened to his son. His mother moved to Florida.”

  “Does she ever seem Emma?”

  Another flicker of pain. “No. She was always convinced Emma wasn’t Andy’s child. And she was never close to Andy. So she has stayed out of our lives.”

  Nik sighed lightly. “That must hurt.”

  “It did at one time. But I can’t change her mind and, truthfully, it’s a little easier this way. My parents love Emma to death and she has no memory of her father or my in-laws. So I’m hoping I’ve done right by her. It’s tough being a single mom. You’re always second guessing every choice you make.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Nik said, pausing before asking his next question. “Do you ever feel like you can’t do it anymore? Be a mom?”

  “There are times where I’ve wondered if I should have married Andy. Wondered if maybe Emma wouldn’t have been better off if I had given her up. But I was never alone in all of this. Like I said, I had my family and I had my faith. My prayers and the prayers of my family held me up. If I had been on my own, who knows what choices I might have made.”

  “Choices like my mother made.” Nik pulled his hands out of hers and leaned against the tree behind him, looking over to where his mother, Cory and now Matthew were sitting.

  “Are you still struggling with that?”

  Nik kept his eyes averted and Claire wondered if she were pushing too hard. But she knew things were shifting between them. They were moving in a dangerous direction. She couldn’t simply go with the flow and see where it took her. She had Emma to think of.

  And she had her own heart to watch.

  So, she had to know where he was at with his other relationships.

  “It’s hard sometimes. I’ve held onto my anger against my mother so long, I’m not sure how to dump it or where.”

  “What would your foster mother say?” she asked, sensing this woman had a large influence on his life.

  Nik chuckled lightheartedly, then turned back to Claire. She was happy to see a genuine smile on his face. “She would say I should put it at the foot of the cross.”

  “That sounds like a good place to put a lot of what burdens us.”

  “Is it that easy though?”

  Claire thought of her anger with Andy. Her pain at his desertion of her and his rejection of their daughter. Her own struggles, even now, with the house and what she wanted.

  “It should be, though I don't do it as often as I should, either.”

  “Well, as far as my mother goes, my friend gave me some good advice. He said sometimes, if one goes through the motions, the feelings will follow. So I will make work of being with my mother and sister. Spend more time with them.”

  Claire swallowed at the sincerity in his voice. At what he was suggesting.

  If he was spending more time with them, would he become more connected to this place?

  Would he change his mind about staying?

  Chapter 9

  Nik turned off his truck but stayed inside, looking at the church.

  The last time he’d been inside a church was at Rebecca’s funeral. He’d felt the heavy burden of guilt over not spending enough time with his foster mother, grief at her loss and anger with God for taking such a godly woman too soon.

  He’d paid little attention to the minister and when the funeral was over, he stayed long enough to pass his condolences to Rebecca’s two children before he fled.

  He hadn’t entered a church building since. He figured if he left God alone, God, too, would leave him be.

  However, in the past few days, God seemed to have broken into his life. Coming up more often in conversation. Making His presence known.

  So, that morning Nik decided that maybe he should go to church. Maybe he should figure out why things had come together in his life the way they had.

  Was it a coincidence that his mother had moved to the very town Nik needed to leave?

  Coincidence that the woman who invaded his thoughts and dreams currently lived in the house he hoped to tear down? The house she saw as a dream come true for her and her daughter?

  He didn’t like that his plans had become amorphous.

  Had God really brought him to this place as Chance insinuated?

  “Enough,” he told himself as he stepped out of the
truck and into the warm fall air. The sun shone benevolently and music streamed through the windows of the church as he strode up the sidewalk.

  A perfect Sunday, he thought, stepping into the foyer.

  To one side was the entrance to the sanctuary; to the other a large open area where a few people congregated, drank coffee and talked. He glanced around but he saw neither Claire nor his mother nor Cory. He hadn’t seen Claire leave but her car was gone so he assumed she was here.

  “Nik. You are here!”

  A sticky hand grabbed his own, and when he turned around, there was Emma, her grin as big as the huge pink sequined bow clipped in her hair. “My mom is talking, talking and talking to Aunty Tess and it’s getting bo-o-o-ring.” She rolled her eyes for added emphasis.

  “Well, we don’t want that, now, do we?” Nik said, surprised at the surge of joy that seeing her gave him.

  “Let’s go find her. I want her to know you’re here. She was talking about you to Aunty Tess.”

  “Really? What was she saying?”

  Emma gave an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know. Mommy told me to get a cookie.”

  “Look who I found,” Emma announced, dragging Nik to Claire and Tess, both of whom were partially hidden by large plants. Claire wore a skirt that skimmed her knees, flat black shoes and a soft blue shirt with long sleeves. Her hair was loose, waving over her shoulders, shining in the overhead lights. She looked stunning.

  Claire’s cheeks flushed when she glanced at him and their eyes met. Then Tess, who was closest to him, held out her hand.

  “Welcome to our service,” she said, shaking his hand. “Glad you could be here.”

  “Me too.” He gave Tess a brief smile, before he returned his attention to Claire. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday, at the picnic, and decided I would come this morning.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came,” she said. Her eyes flitted to Emma. “Sounds like church is starting. Honey, you should go wash your hands.”

  The music from the sanctuary behind them swelled and people trickled out of the open area they stood in.

  “Are you here with your mother and sister?” Tess asked as Emma flounced off.

  “No. I came on my own. Are they here yet?”

  “I haven’t seen them,” Tess replied. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, as if assessing him.

  What did Claire say to her? He couldn’t help but wonder.

  “Anyhow, I should get going,” she continued. Tess gave Claire a quick hug then left.

  “Everything okay?” Nik asked.

  “Yeah. It’s all good.” Claire’s voice was a bit shaky, which increased his curiosity. But he didn’t have the nerve to question her further. “I should go find Emma and sit down,” she said. She hesitated, then turned to him. “Are you waiting for your mother or… or do you want to sit with Emma and me?”

  He held her gaze, wondering if this was some test.

  “I’d love to sit with you and Emma. Thank you.” He felt like he should wait for his mother and sister, but Claire was right there and after yesterday he wanted to spend more time with her, not less.

  He’d meet Joyce and Cory for lunch after church, anyway.

  Claire’s smile reinforced that he’d made the right choice.

  When Emma returned she was delighted to see Nik still standing with her mother. And when Claire took her hand, and walked toward the sanctuary, Emma grabbed his. Claire shot him a worried glance, but he responded with a smile. They looked like a little family walking into church together and despite his plans, despite the things he wanted to do, it felt right. As if the gap cloven into his life with the loss of his child was now filled.

  They found an empty spot toward the back of the church, thankfully. While Nik was glad to be sitting with Claire and Emma, he also knew the possible social repercussions for her. Bad enough that yesterday they had spent most of the afternoon together; sitting with her in church so soon afterward seems to create another declaration.

  Besides, Nik wasn’t ready to face Claire’s mother again. Yesterday she had come by while he and Claire were talking and he could tell from her scowl she wasn’t happy with the situation.

  “Do you like my new hair bow?” Emma asked, patting her head proudly. “My grandma bought it for me for my birthday. I wanted the purple one, but the pink one was the only one they had left she said. All my friends have one. Marla has four. I’d really like to have four, but my mommy says I’m paying more for the name on the tag than I am for the bow. Except I don’t know what that means. How can you pay for a tag?”

  Nik shot a glance at Claire who shook her head in dismay. “Honey, I don’t think Mr. Nik wants to hear about your hair bow in church.” She tucked Emma’s hair behind her ear. “But I’m glad you like it. Even though it isn’t purple.” Claire pulled out a piece of paper from her purse. “Now, why don’t you work on the children’s bulletin so you can change your attention to why we’re here.”

  Emma took the paper and the pencil her mother offered her. “I know. I shouldn’t have been so proud of my bow. God doesn’t care what we look like on the outside, He cares what we look like on the inside,” she said primly.

  Despite the truth of what Emma said, Nik checked a smile. Once again, he glanced at Claire and caught the twinkle in her eye.

  And at that moment all was well with his soul.

  The church service began with lively singing that reminded him of the church his foster mother attended.

  He recognized a couple of the songs and sang along, surprised at how easily the words and tune came back to him.

  When the singing ended, the pastor came to the front of the church and looked around with a smile. He didn’t seem a lot older than Nik himself, but when he spoke his voice had an air of authority and wisdom.

  “Let’s turn in our Bibles to Isaiah 49.” He paused and the only sound in the church was the fluttering of pages, an occasional cough. A holy hush alighted in that moment.

  “Shout for joy, you heavens; rejoice, you earth; burst into song, you mountains!” As he read, Nik thought of the mountains cradling this valley that he so admired. The mountains. “For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.” Again, Nik’s mind went back to the pain he suffered here and regardless of his doubts about God’s care, a tendril of love slivered through his soul.

  “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you. See I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”

  Nik’s heartbeat gathered speed with each word the Pastor read. Chance had spoken the same words to him. And they resonated with him now.

  He always thought his mother had forgotten him. But had she?

  Her tears had shown him otherwise.

  He cast a sidelong glance at Claire. Her focus was on the minister, but her hand rested on Emma’s head, her fingers absently twining in her daughter’s hair.

  A mother who loved her daughter and would do anything for her.

  A woman whom he admired and who was growing increasingly important to him. She must have sensed him looking at her because she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. In that moment awareness arced between them and from her quick intake of breath he sensed she felt it too.

  He swallowed, then before he could stop himself, he rested his hand on her shoulder, connecting them with this tenuous touch.

  Her smile was like a benediction and it settled deep in his soul.

  “Nik is back,” Emma yelled from the kitchen.

  Ever since Claire and Emma had come back from church, Emma had parked herself in the bay window waiting for Nik to return from visiting his mother, his sister and Matthew.

  “I’m going to go see him,” Emma called out again.

  “Maybe wait a bit, honey,” Claire returned, setting her book aside and getting up from the chair she’d curled up in. They had just come back from a very noisy visit with her parents, a
unt and uncle and cousins and she was thankful for the quiet and a chance to read. “He probably has things he needs to do.”

  “But it’s Sunday,” Emma said, already standing by the door when Claire came into the kitchen. “He’s not supposed to work today.”

  “Not everybody feels that way,” Claire said. “Besides some people need to work on Sunday. Like doctors and nurses.”

  Emma fidgeted, looking poised to leave.

  Claire wanted to let her go, but she was still sorting out her feelings about Nik. Sitting beside him in church, watching him listen so intently to the minister and even singing along with some of the songs had shifted her last resistance to him. She knew his foster mother had taught him about God and faith and she could tell this morning that being in church was not new to him. That it meant something.

  Nik was moving her closer to a point of no return. She still had a chance to turn back, to keep her heart whole.

  But every time she was with him, their connection grew deeper.

  Part of her was tired of fighting her feelings for him. She wanted to give in and forget that he had plans to destroy the very house that meant so much to her. Forget that after he was done with that, he would leave again. Forget that the trailer in the yard represented his temporary presence in her world.

  Emma looked out the window of the door and squealed. “He’s coming over here, and he’s got a baseball glove and a ball. He said he would teach me how to catch better.”

  And before Claire could stop her, Emma was out the door and clattering down the wooden steps, running toward Nik.

  Claire stepped out as well, hugging her waist as Emma danced around Nik, Mooch joining them, barking his pleasure.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought maybe we could play catch,” he said to Claire.

  “That’s absolutely fine,” Claire said, joy trickling through her.

  “You should play too, Mommy,” Emma called out, her grin almost splitting her face.

  “Why don’t you go get your baseball glove,” Claire said to her, “and we can practice altogether.”

  “Yay,” Emma cried out. She charged across the yard and into the house, the door banging shut behind her.