LAYING HIS CLAIM

by Beverly Barton

  "Miss Mary Belle, you've gone to a great deal of trouble just for me," Kate said. "I'm not sure I understand why."

  "It's Aunt Mary Belle. You're family, dear girl. And seeing that you have a nice lunch was no trouble at all. As to not understanding my motives for being nice to you—I'd think that would be apparent. I very much want to make it up to you for anything I did wrong in the past. I never meant to hurt you or add to the problems you and Trent were having after Mary Kate was kidnapped. I am sorry. Genuinely sorry."

  Kate stared at Trent's aunt. A funny thought crossed her mind. Who was this woman and what had happened to the real Mary Belle Winston?

  "You're speechless." Mary Belle laughed. "I love Trent more than anyone on earth and his happiness means everything to me. When he returned to Prospect a couple of weeks ago, he was happier than I've ever seen him since you two divorced. All he's talked about is that Kate and Christa were coming to Prospect to spend a week with us."

  "Trent and I are eager to see our daughter again and we're praying that we say and do all the right things. I'm sure Trent told you that our first meeting with her didn't turn out very well." After their night together at the Holiday Inn in Sheffield, Kate had flown back to Atlanta to put her house in order, so to speak, and Trent had returned to Prospect to his job as a circuit court judge. During this period of waiting, they had spoken on the phone almost every day. They had been preparing for the upcoming week when Christa and her nana would stay at Winston Hall for seven whole days.

  "I understand completely and I, too, want to do all I can to make sure nothing goes wrong." Mary Belle looked at Kate beseechingly. "I've made some arrangements that I want to discuss with you. And if there's anything you want changed, anything you disapprove of, just let me know and we'll—"

  "Aunt Mary Belle, have you actually changed so much that I hardly recognize you, or did I not ever really know you?"

  Mary Belle's eyes widened. "Perhaps a bit of both. I'd like to think that I'm not only older, but wiser. And in the past, I spent so much time trying to tutor you, to help you adjust to being a Winston, that I didn't let you know how terribly fond of you I was."

  "You were fond of me? I thought you disliked me, that you disapproved of me, that you thought I was unworthy of being Trent's wife."

  Mary Belle frowned, deepening the faint wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. "It's true that at first, I had certain reservations. You weren't one of us and … forgive me. You know what a snob I can be. I simply can't help it." She laughed nervously. "But it didn't take me long to see what a good person you were and to realize how much you and Trent loved each other. I suppose I tried too hard to make you over into what I thought Trent's wife should be. But I assure you, I believed I was doing the right thing, for Trent and for you."

  "And what about now? I'm not Trent's wife any longer."

  "You should be and we both know it. He's never gotten over you and I suspect you're still in love with him, too, aren't you?"

  "How much does your solicitous attitude have to do with Christa Farrell?"

  "I won't deny that I hope you and Trent will remarry and make a home for Mary Kate. Yes, yes, I know. I'll have to make myself call her Christa."

  Kate sighed. For once she and Aunt Mary Belle wanted exactly the same thing. "Don't forget that Christa has a grandmother who has raised her single-handedly since she was six."

  "Winston Hall is a large house," Mary Belle said. "There is room for all of us, including Brenda Farrell."

  "You'd be willing to let Brenda live here, too?"

  "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make all of us a family again."

  "I see." Kate thought things over for a couple of minutes, then said, "Tell me about the arrangements you've made for Christa and her nana's visit."

  * * *

  Trent arrived home less than ten minutes before Brenda Farrell drove up in her older-model Chevrolet. He'd barely had time to give Kate a hug and a kiss, discard his briefcase and ask her how her trip from Atlanta had gone before their much anticipated guests arrived.

  With Trent, Kate and Mary Belle lined up in the foyer, Guthrie opened the door and invited their visitors to come inside. Brenda all but shoved a reluctant Christa over the threshold. Both grandmother and child gawked at the massive foyer, the winding staircase, the impressive grandeur of the old family home. Christa clung to her grandmother's hand, an expression of uncertainty on her face.

  "Welcome to Winston Hall," Trent said. "I hope y'all had a pleasant trip down from Sheffield."

  "Very pleasant," Brenda replied. "Christa, don't you have something to say to Trent and Kate?"

  Kate sought and found Trent's hand, then squeezed tightly. He suspected she was as nervous as he and needed moral support, just as he did.

  "Thank you very much for inviting us for a visit," Christa said, but there was little sincerity in her words.

  "You're quite welcome," Trent replied. "Would y'all care for some refreshments?"

  "No, thank you," Christa said.

  "Perhaps you'd like for your mother—for Kate to show you up to your room," Mary Belle suggested, a slight quiver to her voice and tears misting her eyes.

  Christa stared at Mary Belle.

  "I'm your great-aunt Mary Belle. I was born in this house and have lived here all my life. This is your home, too, you know. You lived here with us for the first two months of your life and we all loved you very much."

  "I don't remember," Christa said. "Nana has told me that my birth mother didn't give me away." She looked right at Kate. "Somebody stole me from you, didn't they?"

  Kate nodded. Tears glistened in her eyes. When she opened her mouth, but no sound came out, Trent realized she was too overcome with emotion to speak.

  "Kate and I loved you so," Trent said. "You were our precious little Mary Kate. You were the joy of our lives."

  "I'm not Mary Kate anymore. I'm sorry your baby was stolen and I'm sorry I don't remember either of you." She glanced at Mary Belle. "Or you."

  "It's all right, Christa," Kate said. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're here for a visit and we're going to get to know each other all over again."

  "Nana told me that y'all have promised you won't take me away from her."

  "No, we will never take you away from your grandmother," Kate vowed. "Isn't that right, Trent?"

  "That's right. We want your nana to be a part of our family, too."

  Christa's expression changed instantly, all wariness disappeared, replaced with curiosity. "I've never seen a house this big. It's very old, isn't it?"

  "Yes, it's very old," Mary Belle said. "Would you like for Trent and Kate to give you a grand tour while your grandmother and I have tea in the parlor so she and I can become better acquainted?"

  "Is that all right, Nana?"

  "Certainly," Brenda said.

  "What would you like to see first?" Trent gave Kate's hand a it's - going - to - be - all - right squeeze.

  "I don't know." Christa thought for a couple of minutes. "Did I have a room of my own when I lived here?"

  "You had a beautiful nursery," Kate said.

  "I don't guess it's still a nursery, is it?"

  Kate looked to Trent for an answer. When she'd left Winston Hall over ten years ago, Mary Kate's nursery had been untouched, looking just as it had that Easter Sunday when she'd been abducted.

  "Your nursery is just as it was," Trent said. "But Aunt Mary Belle had a new, larger room decorated just for you—for twelve-year-old Christa Farrell."

  "Really?"

  "Really," Trent said.

  "May I see both—my old nursery and my new room?"

  "You most certainly may."

  Trent held his hand out to his daughter. She accepted without hesitation and went with him up the long, winding staircase, Kate keeping in step on Christa's other side.

  * * *

  Kate now wished she had listened to her gut instincts and insisted that Aunt Mary Belle pare down the extravag
ant birthday party she'd planned for Christa. But she'd told herself she was being silly to think that just because all the Winston hoopla had scared the bejesus out of her when she'd been dating Trent, Christa would be overwhelmed by a guest list of fifty, a live band, a clown, a magician, hot-and-cold running servants, a birthday cake five feet high and a pile of presents that could have been for ten little girls instead of just one.

  Trent walked up beside Kate and whispered, "I'm not sure the Queen of England has parties this elaborate. Do you think maybe Aunt Mary Belle overdid it just a tad?"

  "You think?" Kate uttered a nervous chuckle. "Oh, Trent, look at Christa's face. She's out of her league, just way I always was."

  Trent put his arm around Kate's shoulders. "She reminds me so much of you. Her mannerisms are so like yours and the way she laughs and that sweet shyness."

  "She's trying valiantly to put on a happy face, but she's simply overwhelmed." Kate shook her head sadly.

  "Maybe we should rescue her."

  "Could we, Trent? Would it be terribly rude if we got her out of this mausoleum and away from this three-ring circus?"

  "To hell with being rude. Let Aunt Mary Belle explain to all these children and their mothers why Christa's parents stole her away before the party was over."

  "How do we accomplish this?" Kate asked.

  "You go get Christa. Ask her if she'd like to take a ride with us and get away for a while. I'll speak to Brenda to get her permission."

  "Let's do it."

  Kate mowed her way through hordes of children devouring cake, ice cream and countless bakery delights. Christa sat in a chair that looked somewhat like a small throne in the middle of the room, surrounded by presents, half of which were still gaily wrapped.

  Kate leaned down and whispered to her daughter, "Want to get out of here? Trent and I are going for a ride and we thought you might like to go with us."

  Christa shot up out of the chair and grabbed Kate's hand. "I'm ready."

  Kate led her child from the room, not responding when Aunt Mary Belle called out their names. When they escaped onto the front veranda, Trent followed a moment later and the three of them rushed toward the garage. After hopping inside the front seat of Trent's Bentley, Christa snuggled close to Kate and didn't protest when Kate put her arm around her shoulders. Trent started the engine and backed the car out of the five-car garage, then within minutes they were headed down the road.

  "Where are we going?" Christa asked.

  "I have something I want to show you and Kate," Trent said. "It's not far from here."

  "Is it another birthday surprise?" Christa frowned.

  "Not exactly," Trent told her. "It's something for all of us, but especially for Kate."

  Christa smiled. "Really?"

  "For me?" Kate stared quizzically at Trent.

  "Oh, Kate, I forgot to tell Nana that I was going with you and Trent."

  "I asked her permission and it's fine with her," Trent said. "She'll be waiting at Winston Hall for us when we return."

  Christa's smile widened. "Are you going to give us a hint about what the surprise is?"

  "Let's just say that it's something Kate always wanted."

  He'd piqued Kate's curiosity by that last statement, but for the life of her she couldn't imagine what it could be. What had she always wanted? All she could think about was Mary Kate, her baby girl. It seemed that being reunited with her child was everything she'd ever wanted.

  "Is it bigger than a bread box?" Christa asked.

  "Yes," Trent replied.

  Joining in the game, Kate asked, "Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?"

  Trent laughed. "It's definitely not animal."

  "Ah, gee, it's not a horse or a dog or a cat." Christa tapped her index finger on her mouth. "Mmm, hmm, what could it be? You know, I like this guessing game." She turned and looked up at Kate "Can't you think of anything you always wanted?"

  "I always wanted you." The words were out of Kate's mouth before she could stop them.

  Christa studied Kate, a curious glint in her brown eyes. "I really am sorry your baby was stolen. I mean, I'm sorry somebody took me away from you. I guess you've missed me a lot, huh? That's what Nana said. She said you and Trent have missed me and want me to be your daughter again."

  "Your nana is right," Trent said as he turned onto Third Street

  . "There's nothing Kate and I want more than a chance to be your parents again."

  "You won't expect me to call you Mama and Daddy, will you?"

  "No, honey. You can call us anything you'd like. Trent and Kate is just fine with us, isn't it, Kate?"

  "Absolutely."

  Kate wondered where on earth they were going. She'd thought Trent was taking them into town, but the direction in which they were traveling now took them away from downtown and along the tree-lined streets of the residential section. When Trent turned the corner onto Madison, Kate held her breath. It can't be. It's just a coincidence that the house I once thought of as my dream home is on Madison.

  "Oh, look, Kate, isn't that a pretty house?" Christa pointed out the old Kirkendall house on the corner at the end of the four-hundred block. She glanced over at Trent. "It's not that Winston Hall isn't beautiful, but it's so big. It doesn't seem like a home at all. It reminds me of a museum."

  Trent laughed heartily. "Where have I heard that statement before? Mmm, hmm." He shot Kate a quick glance as he pulled the Bentley into the driveway at the old Kirkendall house. "Your mother—that is Kate—once said the very same thing to me."

  Christa bobbed around and looked up at Kate, her lips curved in a big smile. "Did you really tell him that?"

  "I sure did." Kate's heart raced wildly.

  "We're here," Trent announced. "Let's get out and go inside."

  "What?" Kate and Christa cried in unison.

  "This is your surprise, Kate."

  "I don't understand."

  "You mean the house is Kate's surprise?" Christa bounced up and down, all smiles and happy laughter. "You bought Kate a house?"

  "Trent, what have you done?"

  Christa tugged on Kate's arm. "Come on, let's go see it."

  Halfway in a trance, Kate opened the car door and got out, Christa on her heels. Trent rushed around the Bentley's hood and escorted them up the brick walkway to the front porch.

  Trent inserted a key in the lock, then opened the front door. "Come on inside."

  "This was someone's home," Kate said. "You didn't force some family to move out just so you could give me this house, did you?"

  "Christa, see if you can get Kate to come inside and take a look." Trent stepped back to allow them room to enter. "And for your information, Ms. Malone, I bought this house nine years ago, had it completely remodeled at that time and have since completely furnished it."

  Christa pulled Kate into the foyer. Shiny wooden floors, polished to a rich gloss spread out from the foyer into the living room and dining room on the left, then went into the paneled den on the right. Kate's mouth dropped open when she saw a glowing fire blazing in the living room fireplace.

  Christa danced around and around as she explored the downstairs. "I love this house. It's just perfect. If I come to live with y'all, are we going to live here?"

  Trent draped his arm around Kate's shoulders. "What's the answer to that, Kate? Will you come back to Prospect and live in this house with our daughter?"

  "Trent…" Tears pooled in Kate's eyes. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined Trent would have bought the old Kirkendall house, remodeled it and kept it—for her. "You bought this house nine years ago, after we were divorced, after I'd left Prospect. I don't understand."

  "It was a crazy thing to do," he admitted. "But I thought that maybe someday…" He raked his hand through his hair and chuckled. "Hell, I don't know what I thought. That by buying this house I was holding on to a little piece of you, I guess."

  "How many rooms are there upstairs?" Christa asked.

  "Four bedrooms
and three baths."

  "That's more than enough rooms for all of us. When you and Kate get married again, you'll share a room, of course. And I'll have my own room. And Nana will have her room. And there will be a guest bedroom. Or heck, maybe we'll have a baby. I always wanted a little brother or sister."

  Kate and Trent stared at each other, totally amazed by Christa's exuberance.

  "What if Trent and I don't remarry?" Kate asked. "What if I come back to Prospect and you and I and Brenda live here?"

  Christa looked at Trent. "But if we're going to be a family, Trent has to live here, too. Right?"

  "Are you saying that you want to come to Prospect to live?" Trent asked. "Do you want us to be your parents?"

  "I guess. I mean, yes, I think that's what I want. But not if we have to live at Winston Hall."

  "This can be your home," Trent told her. "And you can redo your room anyway you'd like. But it'll be up to Kate whether I live here with y'all or just visit every day."

  Christa grabbed Kate's hand. "Please, Kate, tell him he can live here, too."

  "Christa, honey…"

  Christa reached out for Trent's hand. "I have a great idea, why don't we go get Nana and we all stay here for our visit."

  "Would that make you happy?" Kate asked.

  "Yes, it would be the very best birthday present."

  "Then that's what we'll do." Kate looked to Trent. "Right?"

  "Nothing would please me more." He wrapped one arm around Kate and the other around Christa. Both of them looked up at him and smiled.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  « ^ »

  Winter turned into early spring. The days Christa spent with Kate in Prospect flew by, but the days Kate was on Dundee assignments and Christa in school in Sheffield seemed endless. Kate and Christa kept in touch by daily telephone conversations and she and Trent spoke often, too, their main topic of conversation always their daughter. She felt certain Trent wanted to ask her to remarry him, but she'd done everything to put him off, short of telling him she wouldn't go into a marriage only for the sake of their child. A part of her wanted to believe that Trent loved her and would want to remarry her regardless of whether Mary Kate had come back into their lives. But the insecure girl - from - the - wrong - side - of - the - tracks, who'd always felt so unworthy, had her doubts.