03_A Family To Call Her Own

by Irene Hannon

  When at last he spoke, his voice was hoarse and unsteady. “I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  “Were you okay with this?”

  She nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I’m glad. Because I intend to repeat it—as soon as possible. That is, if you’re willing.” He backed up slightly and looked down at her, his eyes probing.

  Rebecca drew a long breath, her lips already tingling with anticipation. “Yes. I—I’m willing,” she whispered.

  He smiled then, a smile filled with promise and tenderness—and relief. “How about tomorrow night? We’ll take Isabel out for ice cream. And I’ll think of something else to conveniently forget.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers once more, then quickly slipped out the door.

  She closed it behind him, a dreamy smile on her face. Isabel would enjoy the ice cream tomorrow. But Rebecca was looking forward to a different kind of dessert.

  The phone rang, and Rebecca glanced at the clock in surprise. Since Easter, almost a week and a half before, Zach had taken to calling her every night after Isabel was in bed. She looked forward to those long, rambling, end-of-the-day conversations, but he was a little early tonight. Usually he called about ten, and it was only nine-thirty. Maybe he was anxious, she thought with a smile.

  “Rebecca? Zach. Listen, I know it’s late, but can you come over?”

  Her smile of pleasure changed to a frown of alarm at his taut, tension-filled voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Isabel. She was just drifting off to sleep when a couple of kids set off some fireworks right outside her window. I guess she thought it was gunfire or something. Anyway, she just freaked out. I can’t seem to get through to her,” he said, his voice touched with desperation.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  As Rebecca dashed for her purse and fumbled for her keys, she sent a silent prayer racing heavenward. Please help me find a way to comfort this little child! I have no experience with this kind of trauma. But I love her so much! Please show me how to use that love to console her, she pleaded.

  Less than ten minutes later Rebecca stood at Zach’s door, her finger impatiently pressed to the bell. Within seconds it was pulled open, and the lines of concern etched on Zach’s face made her stomach clench. She stepped into the eerily quiet apartment, then turned to face him as he shut the door.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said quietly.

  He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Like I said, fireworks. I heard her cry out, and by the time I got in there she was huddled on the floor with her doll, shaking. I think she’s in shock or something. I tried talking to her, but it’s like she can’t hear me. She’s kind of crying, but there’s no sound. I’m sorry to bother you, Rebecca, but I just didn’t know what else to do.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, placing a hand reassuringly on his arm as she tossed her purse onto a convenient chair. “But I’m no expert at this, either. I just hope I can help.”

  She moved quickly toward the bedroom, pausing on the threshold. The scene was exactly as Zach had described it. Isabel was huddled against the wall, her knees pulled up, her face pale. Her frail shoulders were shaking, and she clutched Raggedy Ann tightly against her chest. There was a glassy look to her eyes, and although she made quiet crying sounds, there were no tears. Rebecca’s heart ached for the frightened, vulnerable little girl, and she moved into the room, dropping to her knees beside her.

  “Isabel, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re safe,” she comforted her gently, reaching over to brush some stray strands of hair back from the wan face. She could feel a shudder run through the little body, but Isabel continued to stare straight ahead, as if unaware of Rebecca’s presence. “Isabel, would you like me to hold you?” Rebecca asked. Still no response.

  Rebecca tried to quell her own growing panic. Zach was right—Isabel appeared to be in shock. She glanced up at him in the doorway, her own worried frown a mirror of his. “Well, how about if I just sit here right next to you?” she asked, turning back to Isabel. “Uncle Zach will sit with us, too, okay?”

  She turned again and motioned for Zach to join her, and the two of them sat beside Isabel on the floor. Rebecca looked over at Zach and mouthed the words “touch her” even as she began stroking Isabel’s arm. Zach followed her example. “Remember that song I sang to you the first night you were here, Isabel?” Rebecca said gently. “How about if I sing it again?” Without waiting for a reply, Rebecca began to softly sing the words of the familiar hymn. She sang all the verses, and as she neared the end she thought she detected a slight softening in Isabel’s rigid muscles. “Would you like to hear another?” she asked, and again she began to sing without waiting for a response.

  Rebecca sang for almost twenty minutes, never breaking physical contact with Isabel, and gradually she felt the little girl’s muscles go limp, until finally the sobs became more pronounced and the tears began to flow. Suddenly Isabel reached for her, and Rebecca pulled her onto her lap. The thin arms went fiercely around her neck and Isabel buried her face in Rebecca’s shoulder. Rebecca closed her eyes and slowly expelled a shaky, relieved breath. Then she gazed at Zach over the little girl’s shoulders, rocking her gently.

  “I think we’ll be okay now,” she told him softly.

  He nodded, the relief evident in the sudden slackening of his strained features, and he rose slowly. “I’ll get her a glass of water,” he offered quietly.

  Rebecca nodded, then turned her attention back to Isabel, who clung to her tightly.

  “I want my m-mama and p-papa,” she sobbed.

  “I know, sweetie,” Rebecca consoled her. “I’m sorry they can’t be here with you. But Uncle Zach and I love you very much. And we promised your papa we’d take care of you until it was safe for you to go home.”

  “S-sometimes it was s-scary at home, when the guns went off,” she choked out. “Mr. Ptasnik, who lived on the f-first floor, got shot once. I saw it happen from our window. A-after that my papa would make me get d-down on the floor whenever there was trouble. He told me that there wouldn’t be any shooting here, but t-tonight I thought I heard guns.”

  “It was just fireworks, sweetie, like Uncle Zach told you. You don’t need to be scared. We promised your papa that we’d keep you safe, and we will.”

  Zach reentered and silently handed Rebecca the glass of water, squatting down beside her.

  “Would you like a drink, Isabel? Uncle Zach brought this for you.”

  Isabel turned in Rebecca’s arms and looked at Zach. He reached over and touched her cheek.

  “Rebecca’s right, Isabel. We won’t let anything hurt you.”

  She took a gulp of water and silently handed the glass back to Zach. “I wish my papa was here,” she sniffled softly.

  “I do too, honey. He misses you just as much as you miss him. But just think of all the stories you’ll have to tell him about America when you go home.”

  She considered that for a moment, and a ghost of a smile flickered across her face. “Just like he used to tell me stories about America.”

  “That’s right.”

  Suddenly she yawned, and Rebecca smiled. “I think it’s way past somebody’s bedtime.”

  Zach reached for Isabel, lifting her easily, then extended a hand to Rebecca, pulling her up in one smooth motion.

  “Rebecca, will you stay with me for a little while, please?” Isabel pleaded as Zach tucked her into bed.

  “Sure. I’ll just lie here right beside you until you go to sleep, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Rebecca looked up at Zach. “I’ll stay for a little while,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “I’ve got some papers to read, anyway.” He kissed Isabel good-night and walked toward the door, shutting it halfway as he exited. He paused to take a deep breath and massage the tense muscles in his neck. It had been some night, he thought tiredly. Isabel had adapted so well he’d
almost forgotten the trauma she’d endured, the terror she’d lived with every day. But tonight’s episode brought home very clearly the kind of environment she and Josef coped with on a daily basis.

  Zach walked over to the window and stared out into the darkness, shoving his hands into his pockets. What was Josef doing right now? he wondered. Missing Isabel, of course. And mourning Katrina, certainly. He was truly alone now, with only his God and his faith to comfort him.

  But maybe that helped more than he realized, Zach acknowledged. Ever since the Easter service, Zach found himself thinking more and more about his abandoned faith. He’d even gone with Rebecca and Isabel to services last Sunday, much to her surprise—and delight. Oddly enough, it gave him a sense of…stability and…connectedness. He couldn’t explain why. But for some reason those worship services seemed to fill a gap in his life, offer him a new kind of hope. Maybe Josef felt the same.

  Zach fervently hoped so. Because despite the fulfillment Josef found in his work, despite the commitment to his cause that gave his life so much meaning, he must be struggling right now to hold on to his hope and to deal with his loneliness. Watch over him, Lord, Zach prayed silently. Let him know that we care and that he is in our thoughts and prayers.

  Zach pushed the last paper aside and glanced at the clock, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Eleven-thirty. He stood up quietly and moved silently toward Isabel’s door, pausing on the threshold to glance toward the bed.

  Rebecca lay on her side, one arm protectively around Isabel, her hair splayed on the pillow behind her. Isabel’s back was cuddled against Rebecca, and she still clutched Raggedy Ann. Zach’s throat tightened with tenderness as he gazed at them. They both looked so fragile and innocent and vulnerable. And they looked right together, he thought, like they belonged with each other.

  Suddenly, with an insight that took him completely by surprise, he wished they belonged with him. Having these two special people in his life these past few weeks had given him a taste of family life. Okay, so it was only temporary. It was just pretend. But despite the fact that he’d spent his life studiously avoiding that kind of commitment, he realized he liked it. A lot.

  Rebecca shifted slightly, emitting a soft sigh, and he suddenly wondered what it would be like to have her in his life permanently. That thought had never entered his mind about any of the other women he’d dated. But then again, he hadn’t loved them.

  Zach frowned. Love? He didn’t love Rebecca. At least, not yet. Did he? How did a person know when they were in love?

  Zach didn’t have the answer to that question. All he knew with absolute certainty was that he cared about Rebecca deeply. And it was becoming harder and harder to imagine his life without her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rebecca stretched her jeans-clad legs out in front in of her, closed her eyes and tilted her head back to let the warm, mid-May sun caress her face. The capricious breeze gently ruffled the long russet waves of her hair, and she smiled contentedly, looking more relaxed than Zach had ever seen her.

  He watched her quietly across the remains of Isabel’s pre-birthday picnic, strewn between them on the large, flat boulder where they sat. Since the fireworks incident, their relationship had grown slowly but steadily. Rebecca had become comfortable with his physical expressions of affection, letting her hair down with him—literally and figuratively—as her trust level grew. And as their relationship developed, Zach found the answer to his question. He was definitely falling in love with Rebecca.

  It was odd, he mused. He’d been closer to other women physically. But he’d never felt as connected on a deeper, more emotional, level than he did with the woman beside him. Her innate simplicity, warmth and goodness brought a new, rich dimension to his life, and he said a silent prayer of thanks for the blessing of her friendship which he hoped, in time, would evolve into love.

  As if sensing his gaze, she opened her eyes and turned to him, tilting her head questioningly at his enigmatic expression. “What are you thinking?”

  He considered the question for a moment, debated the merits of telling her how he felt, and decided the time was not yet right. He couldn’t risk scaring her off. Waiting was hard, but it was far preferable to losing her by laying his cards on the table prematurely.

  “I had some good news this morning,” he told her.

  “What?”

  “My editor called. They’re going to run the series on government corruption. One of my sources came forward voluntarily—with plenty of documentation to validate my story.”

  For the briefest moment, Zach though he detected a look of anxiety on Rebecca’s face. But it was replaced so quickly by a smile he couldn’t be sure.

  “That’s great, Zach! You should be very happy.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I should be. But strangely enough, I don’t feel much of anything…except vindication. When the phone rang I was getting Isabel ready for the picnic—and looking forward to seeing you—and the call seemed more like a nuisance, an unwanted distraction. I’ve hardly thought about it since.” He paused and glanced at Isabel, playing happily at the edge of the stream. “The rat race in St. Louis seems so far away sometimes…almost like another lifetime.”

  Rebecca studied Zach’s pensive profile, trying not to read more into what he was saying than was intended. It sounded like he was implying that he’d found something better in St. Genevieve. But he hadn’t actually said that. And as far as she knew, he still intended to return to St. Louis when his leave was over and Isabel was gone. Until—or unless—he told her otherwise, she would be wise to remember that this interlude was just an unexpected detour in Zach’s life.

  “Isabel seems to be having fun,” he remarked.

  Rebecca looked over at the youngster, who was trying vainly to catch minnows in a plastic cup, and smiled. “Yes. I’m glad you thought of the picnic.”

  He turned to her then, his eyes thoughtful. “Remember the last time we were here?”

  Rebecca nodded. It was the day after their disastrous dinner, the same day he’d told her about Josef’s request and she’d offered to help with Isabel. “It seems like a long time ago,” she remarked quietly.

  “Yeah, it does,” he agreed. “But thank God our paths crossed that day! I don’t know how I would have managed Isabel without your help. You’ve been really great with her.”

  She waved his praise aside. “You would have done just fine. You’re obviously good with kids, Zach. You’re a hit at the high school, and Isabel took to you right away. I can see why Josef trusted you with her. You make a good uncle.”

  He turned to look at his young charge again. She’d filled out since arriving, and her cheeks had taken on a healthy glow. Gone was the solemn, wary look that had so often haunted her eyes when she first arrived. Now she seemed like any other carefree almost-eight-year-old. And oddly enough, instead of being the burden he had anticipated, she’d added an unexpected spark to his life. He was going to miss her—a lot—when she went home.

  “Believe it or not, I really feel like Isabel is family now,” he said slowly. “When I agreed to this arrangement, it never occurred to me that I’d actually grow to love her. I just expected to be sort of a caretaker—keep her fed, clean, safe and as happy as possible under the circumstances. But now…” He gazed at the little girl again and sighed, his eyes troubled.

  “Now I dread the thought of sending her back into that turmoil, even though I know Josef will do his best to protect her.” He raked his fingers through his hair and expelled a frustrated breath. “God, why does the world have to be in such a mess?” he said helplessly.

  Rebecca swallowed past the lump in her throat, knowing the question was rhetorical, knowing also that there was no answer. She, too, had been thinking more and more about Isabel’s impending departure. In three weeks they would put her on a plane and send her home to an uncertain future. It would be the hardest thing Rebecca had ever done in her life.

  “I guess we always want to protect the
people we love,” she reflected softly, “even though it’s not always possible. We’ll just have to put her in the hands of the Lord and pray that He’ll watch over her.”

  “Uncle Zach! Rebecca! Come see the fish I caught!” Isabel called, hopping from one foot to the other in her excitement.

  Rebecca forced herself to smile. “Okay, sweetie.” She stood up, then spontaneously held out her hand to Zach. She had been initiating physical contact more and more often lately, he realized with gratitude. He knew that her willingness to reach out to him spoke far more eloquently than words of her growing trust and deepening feelings.

  He stood up and laced his fingers with hers, his mouth quirking into an apologetic smile. “Sorry to be so melancholy. I didn’t mean to put a damper on the party.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been having the same thoughts lately myself. It will be so hard to let her go.” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath. “I just never realized I could care about someone so much this quickly.”

  Zach gazed at her, and his eyes grew tender and warm. “Neither did I,” he concurred huskily.

  He wasn’t talking about Isabel anymore, Rebecca realized, her heart soaring at his intimate tone. But before she got carried away she reminded herself that while Zach might care for her, she had no idea just how deeply his feelings ran. She suspected that he was used to casual relationships, where each partner took what they needed and then moved on. And that wasn’t her style at all.

  But even if he was serious, she still had another obstacle to overcome. In the past few weeks she’d grown comfortable with the gradual introduction of physical contact into their relationship. She welcomed his kisses, waited eagerly for his tender touch. But always she sensed a simmering passion just below the surface, firmly held in check for the moment but clearly seeking release. And when he did give expression to that passion, she was terrified that he would find her inadequate or, worse yet, too frightened to respond with anything but panic.