And Jake hadn’t. Until five months ago when Jake got a phone call from a nurse named Caitlin Severn who had Simon as a patient.
Jake had overcome his own wounded pride at Simon’s silence and traveled to Vancouver to see him. Now Simon was happily married. But he still wanted to find their mother.
Jake wasn’t as interested. Each time he saw Taryn, he wondered anew how his mother could give up her own children and not even leave them with a name to track down. It was as if she wanted them swept out of her life.
“Hi, Daddy. Here I am.” Taryn stood in front of him, her face shiny from washing, her hair still damp. She twirled around in her new, frilly nightgown, the ruffle on the bottom dragging on the floor.
“You look beautiful,” Jake said, pulling her on his lap, tucking her under his chin.
“Not as beautiful as her—” Taryn pointed to Miriam with a giggle. Jake couldn’t help but look at Miriam, who was now gazing wistfully at Taryn. He didn’t acknowledge Taryn’s comment—at least not out loud. And as he watched the play of emotions on Miriam’s face, he wondered if she had any regrets. If the fame and fortune she had acquired satisfied her.
He turned back to his daughter, his heart full of gratitude, thankful that in spite of how things had turned out, he had this precious child.
“So, Pip, it’s bedtime,” he said quietly. “Kiss Grandpa and Grandma good-night, and I’ll tuck you in.”
“Okay,” she said, lifting her shoulders in an exaggerated sigh. She slipped off his lap and walked around the table to kiss Tilly and then Fred.
For a moment Jake was afraid she was going to give Miriam a kiss, but shyness won out. Instead, Taryn just waggled her fingers at Miriam.
“Good night, Taryn. Sweet dreams,” Miriam said softly, waving back.
“Okay,” Taryn said with a smile. Then she turned and flounced off through the hallways, toward the stairs, Jake right behind.
When Paula and Jake had first married, they had lived in a mobile home on the property. However, after Paula had died, Jake had brought Taryn here so often that she’d ended up getting her own room. Eventually Jake had started eating supper here, and soon the mobile home had been sold.
Now they all lived here in a house that was getting too big for Tilly to clean. But she refused to move to a smaller house in town, and Jake had to admit that it worked better for him, as well.
At the bottom of the stairs, Taryn stopped, holding up her arms for the first step in their bedtime routine.
He loved this house, he mused as he walked slowly up the broad stairs holding his little girl. As a foster child, he’d been blessed to end up here, and he knew it.
Though his mother had given Simon and Jake up, he was always thankful that they had been adopted by a single man, Tom Steele. He had given them a safe and secure home for seven years. His death had been a severe blow, and Jake knew that the loss of Tom tended to make him overprotective of Fred. He didn’t want to lose another father.
“Stop, Daddy. I want to see the pictures.”
Jake smiled and did as his daughter commanded. The Prins had a veritable gallery on the wall, and Taryn always had to stop. Jake didn’t mind. He was so thankful for the legacy his daughter received through Fred and Tilly that it was doubly important to him that she knew where she came from. His vague memories of his mother didn’t include a father, let alone grandparents. At times he still resented that, but realized that in Tom Steele, and later in Fred and Tilly, God had made up the lack.
“There’s my mommy.” Taryn leaned forward, pointing out their wedding picture. Taryn always lingered the longest here, even though she barely remembered Paula. Taryn had been only two when Paula died, and unaware of the circumstances surrounding her mother’s death. Paula had been an inattentive mother at best, and hadn’t spent a lot of time at home. Jake often regretted his marriage, but he had never, ever regretted Taryn.
“And this is Uncle Simon and Aunty Caitlin—” Taryn pointed with a pudgy finger to a smiling couple, their arms around each other. The picture had been taken outside against a backdrop of trees. The filtered sun highlighted their features and only seemed to enhance the love that radiated from them.
“When I get bigger—” Taryn stopped as her mouth stretched open in a big yawn “—I want to be a nurse, just like Aunty Caitlin, and help her in her hospital in Na…Nomimo,” she continued, snuggling into her father’s neck.
“Nanaimo,” Jake corrected, giving his daughter a tight hug. “That’s a good thing to be, sweetie. But if you don’t get your sleep, you won’t grow, and then you can’t be a nurse.” He jogged up the stairs to miss the rest of the pictures, aware of his daughter’s penchant for dawdling. And tonight he didn’t feel like indulging her. Much as he disliked to acknowledge it, he wanted to be downstairs with Miriam.
A night-light shed a soft glow over Taryn’s room. Jake lay Taryn down on her bed, careful not to disturb the row of stuffed animals that sat along the side, next to the wall. He tucked her in and sat beside her, his arms on either side of her shoulders.
Taryn smiled up at her father, and a wave of pure, sweet love washed over Jake. He bent over and gave her another quick kiss. “Time for your prayers.”
“We have to pray for Grandpa, don’t we?” Taryn said, her soft hazel eyes shining up at him in the muted light.
“Yes, we want him to stay healthy, don’t we?”
“Should we pray for Miriam?”
Jake felt his heart skip at her name. He took a quick breath, frowning down at his daughter. “What did you say?”
“I asked,” Taryn began, putting emphasis on the last word as if to show Jake that he was being particularly obtuse, “if I should pray for Miriam.”
“You barely know her. Which reminds me, what about this book you were talking about?”
Taryn sat up like a shot and, shifting around, pulled a worn scrapbook from under her pillow. She handed it to him.
“It has pictures of you in it.” Taryn smiled, eager for the reprieve from sleep. “And pictures of my Mommy and pictures of the pretty lady. Miriam. I’ll show you.” Taryn reached for the book, and, reluctantly, Jake gave it back. He didn’t like the idea of Taryn living in the past, creating fantasies about Paula. But he also knew that it wasn’t fair to take what little she had away.
Taryn flipped quickly through the pages of pictures from high school—a few of them of Jake—then she stopped and tilted the book in his direction. Jake felt his heart stop as he looked directly at a picture of Miriam.
In the picture she wore a mauve silk dress held up with narrow, jeweled straps. Diamonds sparkled at her neck, her ears, her fingers, all discreetly proclaiming money. Her mouth was quirked in what he knew was her cynical smile, her head tilted back as if she were laughing at some private joke. Her dark hair framed her face, short tendrils accenting her high cheekbones, the exotic tilt of her eyes. A slickly dressed man wearing a tuxedo stood beside her, his arm resting in a proprietary manner on her shoulder.
“Why did Mommy have pictures of Miriam in her book?”
Jake blinked, pulling himself back to the present. “She used to be your mommy’s best friend,” Jake murmured, turning the page to find yet another color picture of Miriam. It was a makeup advertisement. Miriam’s face took up the whole page, her head angled slightly downward, her eyes glancing up, her shining mouth holding the hint of a smile. Jake swallowed as he stared at the picture. It was Miriam, and yet not. How many times had he seen that look on her face—across a classroom, in the hallways of school; whenever she would tease him, flirt with him?
“I want to show Miriam the pictures, okay?” Taryn gathered up the book and made to jump out of bed, but Jake stopped her.
“No,” he said firmly, taking the book away from her and setting it on the bedside table. “I’m sure Miriam has seen these pictures herself. And you need to sleep.” He pulled the blankets up around her and tucked her in. She said her prayers, and Jake said them with her.
Each e
vening he thanked God for the precious gift entrusted to him. And as he did most evenings, he promised he would do everything he could to make sure she would have a home as secure and loving as the one he had received through Fred and Tilly.
“…and be with Miriam, my mommy’s friend.” Jake felt a start at the sound of Taryn speaking Miriam’s name, but he said nothing, not wanting to draw any more attention to Miriam.
He waited until she was done, then bent over and kissed her gently. He paused at the door to look once more, closed it behind her and went downstairs to face Miriam.
He heard them laughing, and stopped just behind the door, listening, remembering other times.
Like the first time he had seen Miriam.
He had been sitting on Fred and Tilly’s picnic table, staring out at the view below—a young boy of fourteen, a foster child being brought to his third foster home in as many years and recently separated from his brother Simon. The social worker had been inside the house, talking to Fred and Tilly. He hadn’t wanted to hear what she had to say.
So he had stayed outside, appreciating the flow of the land that stretched out below him, yet wondering how he was going to survive in a house with only two old people for company.
Then a skinny girl had ridden up on her horse and jumped off. She’d tied it to a post by the back gate and boldly walked up to him, retying the shoelace that held her ponytail in place. She’d asked who he was and what he was doing sitting at Uncle Fred and Aunt Tilly’s picnic table.
When he ignored her, she just shrugged and waltzed on into the house, like she lived there. She came out a few minutes later and sat beside him on the table. She said nothing, this time. Just sat there.
Together they watched the sun going down, felt the soft chill that accompanied the fall evenings drifting onto the yard.
The social worker came out later, accompanied by Fred and Tilly. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Miriam, and spun around, asking Fred and Tilly who she was.
“Just the neighbor girl,” they said. “She comes over a lot.”
The social worker nodded and then stopped by Jake. Laying her hand on his shoulder, she bent down to his height—an older woman talking to an angry, young man. “This is a good place, Jake. Don’t wreck things for yourself.”
Jake had ignored her, staring past her at the setting sun. Social workers were always full of advice and, as far as he was concerned, misconceptions. The fact that he had been in so many homes had more to do with Simon’s constant running away than with his behavior. But he didn’t want to get into that. It hurt to think of Simon. It was the first time they had been separated. So he only nodded and said nothing, wondering where his brother had ended up and when he would see him again. He knew it was a waste of time to ask the social worker. She would give him some vague answer about waiting to see if they settled in. Then she left.
Fred and Tilly went back to the house.
To his surprise and dismay, Miriam stayed beside him. He had wanted to be alone, but she wouldn’t leave. After a while, though, it didn’t matter as much. She had been pretty quiet.
Tilly brought them a glass of orange juice and then walked back into the house.
Miriam turned to him and started talking. He had known her silence was too good to be true. She asked questions, the basic ones—What’s your name? How old are you? Where did you live before?
His replies were terse. He had answered enough questions before this placement to add twenty more pages to his already thick file. Everyone knew everything about him, so the trick was to hold back as much as he could for as long as he could.
Miriam chatted about the school, the town, Tilly and Fred. She said nothing about her own mother. In fact, at first he thought she didn’t even have a mother.
Miriam came to Fred and Tilly’s often. She sought him out at school, introduced him to her many friends. They spent a lot of time together. She had an easy way with people, a self-deprecating wit and a love of life that he found compelling and infectious.
He ended up falling desperately in love with her. And she with him.
Miriam had filled the empty spaces that life had carved out of him. Her unconditional love had shown him that there were things worth making sacrifices for. For the first time in years he had opened himself up to another person, had made himself vulnerable. He had trusted her.
She talked easily about her faith, and shared that with Jake. They spent hours just talking, being together, sharing dreams and plans. Jake often felt unworthy of her.
Miriam often spoke of her mother and how important it was that they keep their relationship a secret. And they did. Jake knew what he was: a foster child with an uncertain future.
But they had plans. When they turned eighteen, they would be adults, independent. They would declare their love to the world, and then leave Waylen.
The longer Jake stayed at Fred and Tilly’s, however, the less he wanted to do that. While Miriam showed him that pure love can exist between two people, Fred and Tilly showed him the love of parents. They gave him a home. Jake didn’t want to leave anymore. He talked of staying in Waylen, of getting a job in town.
Miriam grew frightened. Jake had to come with her. She was counting on him to help her get away from her mother.
It hurt to think of what they had once had. To realize that the elegant woman who was chatting in his kitchen was even further removed from him now than she was then. So much had changed in each of their lives.
He stepped into the kitchen. Fred was describing an incident he had had with a bull, many years ago.
“…And Tilly thinks I’m waving to her to come closer, and she comes roaring up with the truck and scares the bull. He takes off past me down the road and with him went all the plans for the day. We finally got him corralled at midnight.” Miriam had her hand over her mouth; her eyes sparkled and her shoulders shook in time to her chuckles.
Jake stopped, unable to look away.
This was the Miriam he had fallen in love with. This was the Miriam he had promised he would stay with forever. Not that overly made-up woman with the fake smile whom he had just seen in the photo. Not the defensive woman who had sat with him in the truck all the way here.
Then she glanced sidelong, her hand slowly dropped and her gaze skittered away.
He felt as if he had broken the moment.
“Taryn safely in bed?” Tilly asked, smiling up at him.
Jake nodded and sat at the table, suddenly feeling like the odd man out. He tried not to look at the clock, but couldn’t help it.
Miriam caught him looking; she carefully put her spoon back in her coffee cup and folded the napkin Tilly had given her. Preparations for leaving.
“What’s the rush, girl?” Fred asked, as Miriam eased herself from behind the table.
“I should go. It’s been a long day of driving,” she said quietly, picking up her mug. She brought it to the kitchen sink and set it down with a muted clink.
“Are we going to see you again?” Tilly asked as she got up herself.
Miriam turned to face Tilly and nodded. “Of course. Once I get my car fixed, that is.”
“Oh, nonsense. I can come over.” Tilly stopped, glancing at Jake, then back to Miriam. “What about your house? Is there any food there?”
“I bought some groceries, but unfortunately they’re still in my car—”
“Don’t be silly, girl, I’ll give you some,” Tilly interjected.
Miriam hesitated, and Jake sensed she was in a dilemma. Either she accepted charity from Tilly, or she put him out by asking him to return to her car.
“Did you have a suitcase?” he asked her, feeling foolish that he had never thought of that when he picked her up.
“It’s in my car,” she said, lifting her head.
“Well, it’s not far down the road. I’ll drive you back and you can get your other stuff.”
“Thank you,” she said with a gracious tilt of her head. She turned back to Tilly. “Thanks for
tea.” She stopped as if she couldn’t say anything more.
Tilly walked over and gave Miriam another hug. “It’s such a treat to see you again,” she said, pulling back, cupping Miriam’s young face with her old, lined hands. “I’m so glad you decided to come back.”
Fred, too, walked over and gave her a hug. But Jake could see that even that small movement tired him out.
Miriam had noticed it, too. Her eyes were full of concern. “You make sure you get enough rest,” she said to Fred, holding his hand between hers.
“You sound just like Tilly,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll be fine.” He reached up and stroked her cheek, much the way Tilly had done to Jake.
In that moment Jake realized that, in spite of a ten-year absence, Miriam shared something special with Fred and Tilly. And for a moment he was envious.
Chapter Three
“So,” Jake said vaguely as he spun the steering wheel. “What really brings you back here?”
His truck was halfway down the driveway before he asked the question Miriam knew had been burning inside of him. Miriam waited a beat, as if to establish some sort of conversational control. “I came back to sell my farm.”
Jake’s head snapped around and he stared at her, then looked quickly away. “This is a surprise.”
Miriam didn’t doubt it. Fred and Jake had rented it all these years. But all their dealings had been at arm’s length through a lawyer Miriam hired to take care of her and her mother’s business.
“I don’t know if you’re interested in buying it. I’m willing to offer you and Fred right of first refusal.”
A Mother at Heart Page 3
