by Loree Lough
“No. Not yet.”
“Then let me warn you. She’s very weak and pale, and she’s lost a lot of weight.”
On the way, Ginnan stopped at the nurses’ station so that Connor could retrieve Liam, then led the way down a long, polished corridor.
It was quiet inside, so hushed that it reminded Connor of an empty church. After the warnings from O’Dell and the doctor, Connor had expected his niece to be attached to numerous monitors and feeding tubes. Instead, there was one plastic bag hanging from a tall metal stand beside her bed.
“Kirstie,” the doctor said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder, “there’s someone here to see you.”
She saw Liam first, and her eyes instantly filled with unshed tears. Her pale cheeks flushed with sudden color, and smiling, she held out trembling arms. Connor gently deposited the baby beside her.
“Mmumm-mmumm.” He seemed to sense that he must be gentle, and snuggled quietly up to her.
“Oh, sweetie, I can’t believe you’re here. Let Mommy look at you….” She kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his chin. “You’re beautiful! I was right, Jaina is taking good care of you, isn’t she?”
Jaina. Oh, how Connor suddenly wished she were here, her remarkably strong, peaceful presence bolstering him.
Only then did Kirstie seem aware that she and Liam were not alone in the room. “Uncle Connor?”
The doctor gave him a polite little nod of his head and quietly stepped out of the room.
“How did you know who I was?”
“I’d know you anywhere. Mom described you to me ten thousand times.” She emitted a weak laugh. “I have to admit you’re even more handsome than she said.”
Connor scooted the bedside chair nearer and sat beside her.
“How did you find me?”
“I hired a private detective.”
“That was you? I thought…I thought it was Jaina.”
“I know. She showed me the letters.”
“You and Jaina…you’ve met?”
Connor explained how, the day after Kirstie had disappeared, Jaina had come to his office. “I’m so sorry you overheard that argument. I wish you had stuck around, told me to my face what a mean old grouch I am.”
Another feeble laugh.
“If you had,” he continued, “I would have kept you with me, seen to it you had only the best care.”
“They’ve been taking good care of me here.”
“I see you have a morphine drip,” he said, nodding toward the bag. “Do you use it often?”
“So Dr. Ginnan put you to work, too, did he?”
“I’m afraid I don’t—”
“He wants you to talk me into using the morphine, right?”
She seemed far too perceptive for one so young, Connor thought.
Kirstie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel, all groggy and thickheaded. I want to be aware that I’m alive, right up to the last minute.” She hugged Liam a little tighter. “Especially now.”
“But, honey,” he urged, his fingers gently caressing her forearm, “if you’re in pain…”
“I’m fine.” She met his eyes to add, “I’m sorry for acting like a spoiled brat that day…running away from your office like a big scaredy-cat. I should have known you weren’t as mean as you sounded.”
Connor couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You know, this is the third time today that women have told me I’m nasty, mean, grouchy, grumpy.”
“Pity you’re so tall…”
Still smiling, he rumpled his brow.
“…because if we could find a theater where they’re doing Snow White, you could play the part of all seven dwarfs!”
Laughing, he shook his head. “My, but you’re a lot like your mother.”
“That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me. She was a wonderful woman.”
He wanted to talk about Susan. Wanted to ask the questions that had been stewing in his brain since the day she’d left home. But these were Kirstie’s last hours.
“She always felt bad about the way she left. But she was afraid that if she contacted you, your parents would make your life miserable.”
“That’s what I figured. Sometimes,” he said, “I wish she’d been more selfish.”
“Why?”
“If she wasn’t always worrying about me, maybe she’d have gotten in touch. It would have been worth a little aggravation from the folks just to know she was all right.”
“She’d never have done that. Mom said if you ever found out where she was, you’d come to her. She couldn’t let you do that.”
The conversation was wearing the poor girl out. Her whispery, raspy voice proved it. “Shhh, sweetie,” he said gently. “Why not take a little nap and—”
“I have one, maybe two days left on this earth. Please don’t ask me to sleep away my last hours.”
He swallowed, biting back the tears that stung his eyes.
She laid a cool hand on his. “Mom said if you had come to Chicago, you wouldn’t have gone on to college, or law school, or—”
“She knew about that?” he asked, incredulous. “How?”
Kirstie gave him a knowing grin. “She kept tabs on you for years. Remember Miss Bonita?”
A soft smile creased Connor’s face. “The old lady who lived next door? If it hadn’t been for her, your mother and I might have gone stark raving mad.”
“She sent us articles and…and things.”
He remembered the way the old woman had insinuated herself into so many family functions, pretending to be interested in his parents’ religious activities. She’d attended his high school and college graduations. Had baked him chocolate chip cookies when he passed the bar exam. Quilted him a blanket when he got his first apartment.
“She never forgave them, you know.”
“Our folks?”
Kirstie nodded. “She blamed them for your divorce. Said if they’d been good Christian parents like they pretended to be, they never would have let you marry that gold digger who broke your heart.”
Connor snickered a bit at that. “Gold digger. I never thought of Miriam in quite that way before.” He was having a hard time dealing with the fact that Susan had known so much about his life, yet he’d known next to nothing about hers.
He felt uncertain how to respond to this girl-woman. He’d come here to comfort her, not the other way around.
“Are you curious about how she died?”
Curious? Why, he was nearly exploding with the need to know. But he dared not admit it because Kirstie’s worn-out body needed rest.
“She earned her living modeling. For catalog companies, for local store brochures. She even made a few commercials. Mom felt it was important to stay trim, especially as she got older, to stay ahead of the competition, you know? So her doctor prescribed a drug. She took it every day….” Her voice trailed off as she stared at some unseen spot across the room. “She did a lot of damage to her heart…”
Connor laid a finger over her lips. Certainly she didn’t need to say it any more than he didn’t need to hear it. The image of his dear Susan, wasting away, nearly broke his heart.
Kirstie mustered enough strength to push his hand away. “She died when I was twelve.”
Ever so gently, he lifted her hand, pressed it to his lips. “If you knew where to find me, Kirstie, why didn’t you call? I would have—”
“All I knew about you was what I’d heard…I thought you’d be too busy and too important to have time for me. And, I was afraid.” Kirstie gave him an unsteady, mischievous grin. “What a little chicken, huh?”
He kissed her hand again, then tenderly brushed the bangs from her forehead. “Kirstie, you’re the bravest girl I’ve ever known.”
Liam sat up just then, met Connor’s eyes. “Mmumm-mmumm,” he said, patting his mother’s other hand. He reached for Connor. “Dih?”
Kirstie began to cry, softly at first, then harder, until the sobs racked her puny little
body. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you in pain? You want me to call the doctor?”
She waved his concern away. “No,” she sniffed, pulling herself together. “It’s not that. It’s just…I’m so happy….”
Connor leaned down, hugged her and Liam both. “Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it,” he said, winking and tweaking her nose. He pulled a tissue from the box on her nightstand and blotted her tears. When her breathing returned to normal, he said, “Now, really, what was that all about?”
Kirstie exhaled an exhausted sigh. “I never thought I’d see him again,” she admitted, lovingly stroking Liam’s cheek. And meeting Connor’s eyes, she added, “And I never thought I’d meet you.” Another raspy breath rustled from her. “I have a family,” she said, lower lip quivering as she grinned. “A family!”
It was a slow night in the diner. Rita and Ray were working in the kitchen, and the rest of the crew, sensing her need to be alone, were flitting about pretending to be busy. She’d just concluded a short prayer of thanks for her good friends when the bell over the front door tinkled.
Her mother had been certain Connor had stolen Liam, that he was off making the adoption legal. But Jaina refused to believe it. He’d been straightforward and honest with her to this point, had asked her to marry him, so they could raise Liam together. “He wouldn’t do anything so underhanded,” she’d said in his defense. She’d believed Connor would never knowingly hurt her. She trusted him. Yet, she’d been a poor judge of character before, putting her trust in the hands of a man who was undeserving of it.
While Jaina mulled over her worries about Liam and Connor, and tried to avoid checking the clock, a woman of perhaps sixty hustled inside. She looked vaguely familiar. Not until she plopped her suitcase-size handbag on the counter did Jaina recognize the wide, friendly smile. “You’re Connor Buchanan’s secretary, aren’t you?”
“Name’s Pearl, and I have a message from Mr. B.”
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for hours! Where has he been? Is he all right? Is Liam okay?”
“And I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, to tell you he’s left for Chicago. Your line was busy for the longest time here, so I decided to stop by on my way home, but the traffic was awful, and then my car overheated,” the older woman rattled on. She stepped up behind the counter and helped herself to a cup of coffee. “You want some?”
Jaina nodded.
“Straight, or cream and sugar?”
“Just black, thanks.”
Pearl poured a second cup, handed it to Jaina. She came around to the front again and straddled a stool. “Sit down, honey. Take a load off.” Unceremoniously, she dumped three sugar packets and two cream containers into her cup. “He was just planning a little drive in the country,” Pearl said, her spoon clanking against the mug as she stirred. “He came into the office to get another set of adoption papers.”
“Adoption papers?” Jaina’s heart beat hard with fear and dread.
“Yeah. The original petition apparently went missing and was never filed at the courthouse. Anyway,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to Jaina’s distress, “he was about to leave when Buddy O’Dell called.”
“Who?” Was he another lawyer? Someone who’d help Connor take Liam away?
“Private detective…the one who found Kirstie.”
“Who found…” So that’s why he left the way he did. She knew there was a good reason! Her thoughts turned immediately to Kirstie. “She’s dying, isn’t she?”
Sipping her coffee, Pearl nodded.
“And Connor went to Chicago to be with her…to let her see Liam for the last time.” She glanced at her watch. “He’s probably with her by now.”
She loved him more at that moment than she’d ever loved anyone in her life. He hadn’t lied to her. She hadn’t been wrong about him.
The grandfather clock struck the hour. Nine o’clock. The past three hours had felt like a lifetime. But Liam was safe. Thank you, she silently prayed. She pictured him, fast asleep by now. “What about the baby’s food, and diapers, and—”
“Mr. B. said he’d buy whatever they needed when they got to Chicago. Don’t worry, the little guy’s in good hands.”
Pearl was right, of course. Connor loved Liam at least as much as she did. Of course he’d take care of—
“He loves you, you know.”
Jaina pictured his chubby little face, his dimpled little hands—
“He needs you, too. I’ve known him for years, and I tell you, I’ve never seen him so happy.”
Known him…for years? But he’s only seven months…
Jaina realized suddenly that Pearl was talking about Connor, not Liam.
Pearl rattled on, “I’ve seen him with plenty of women. Not a one of ’em made him happy. He didn’t smile, least not with his eyes. And when he laughed, it was that fake thing folks do to be sociable, you know? Work, work, work…for a handsome young man, he just plain wasn’t enjoying his life very much. But since he met you…” Pearl winked, grinning. “Since you came along, Mr. B. is a different man.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Honey, I’m going to be sixty-five on my next birthday, and I know love when I see it. And you can deny it if you want to, but I know that you love him, too.”
Jaina stared at her hands. “I won’t deny it,” she said softly, “because I can’t.” She met Pearl’s eyes. The woman believed what she’d said. A warm glow flowed through her as the shadows lifted from her heart. Exhaling a sigh of contentment, she reveled in the peace and happiness Pearl’s words had given her.
Then a disturbing, agonizing thought smothered the pleasant feelings. What if Pearl was mistaken? What if the changes she’d seen in her boss had been caused by Liam, and not her?
That was it. That had to be it.
The idea raised a panic inside her like she’d never known. A chill black silence engulfed her as a pulsing knot formed in her stomach. To be jealous of Liam was unthinkable, unspeakable. What kind of horrible person was she?
She looked hastily away from Pearl, uncomfortable with the thoughts churning in her head, embarrassed that she’d professed her love for Connor to this virtual stranger. An oddly primitive warning whispered in her head as she considered the disquieting fact: She’d fallen in love with a man who would never love her in return.
She chewed her lower lip and pulled composure around her like a cloak, determined to sheathe her innermost emotions. Jaina stifled a bitter laugh. Isn’t it a little late to hide your feelings, now that you’ve confessed your best-guarded secret?
His image floated through her mind, his name lingered on her lips—Connor, Connor, Connor—as she recalled every minute detail of his face, his touch, his voice…
One nagging thought refused to be stilled: Connor loved Liam. Loved Kirstie, too. If he could care so much—and he did care, deeply; she could see it in his eyes—for those two destitute children he’d known for such a short time, was it really too much to hope that Pearl might be right? Was it unreasonable to believe he might love her…if not today, then someday?
Jaina smiled, remembering a verse from Psalms: My times are in Thy hand…
Several chattering ladies entered the diner as Pearl rose to leave. “Get some rest,” she said, chucking Jaina’s chin. “He’s gonna need to lean on you when he gets back. Gonna need you like he’s never needed anyone before.”
Chapter Ten
“Uncle Connor?”
Connor hadn’t intended to doze off when the nurse took Liam for a walk, but…
He was beside her in a heartbeat. “What is it, sweetie? You okay? You need the doctor, or—”
She took his hand. “You have a birthday coming up. We should do something special to celebrate.”
Chuckling affectionately, he patted her hand. “I’m too old to celebrate birthdays.”
“Thirty-five isn’t so old. What would make you say such a thing?”
“I’ve lived alone so
long, I feel ancient sometimes, that’s all.”
“Liam is going to be good for you, then.” An almost indiscernible sigh escaped her lungs. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“What’s amazing?”
“The way God brings people together, exactly when and where they need each other most? I mean, if I hadn’t overheard that argument in your office, I’d never have left Liam with Jaina, and then you two wouldn’t have met.” She managed a grin. “She’ll be good for you, too.”
Picturing Jaina, Connor smiled.
“I’m so happy Liam is going to grow up in a house with a mommy and a daddy who love each other. It gives me a lot of peace, knowing that.”
He couldn’t very well burst her bubble, now could he? In place of a response, Connor got her brush out of the nightstand drawer and began pulling it gently through her thinning blond hair.
“Feels nice,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “Just the way Mom used to do it….” And then she was asleep.
She slept in fits and starts, he’d discovered; a moment here, five more there. He’d brush her hair all day long if he thought it would encourage some much needed peaceful sleep. As she dozed, Connor recalled the conversation they’d had in the middle of the night.
“Tell me about the girl of your dreams,” she’d said.
“I don’t have a—”
“Oh, yes, you do,” she’d said, feebly shaking a finger at him. “We all have dreams.”
He didn’t know why, but the comment had made him think of Jaina’s house. His house…
He’d leaned back, with Kirstie still holding tight to his hand. “Okay…here goes. For starters, my dream girl will have a lot of patience and a really big heart. She’ll have to, to put up with the likes of me,” he’d said, winking playfully. “Plus, she’ll want a lot of kids to fill up the big old house we live in. And in order to keep us all happy and healthy, she’ll be as organized as a marine drill sergeant.”
“Blonde, redhead, or brunette?”
Oddly, though every woman he’d ever dated had been a blonde, the girl of his dreams had dark hair. Chestnut-colored, to be exact.
“Sort of auburn.”
“What color are her eyes?”
