Huntington Family Series

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Huntington Family Series Page 41

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  “But the best is yet to come. We separate into different classes. Men into one, women into another.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  “Well, okay, but I don’t see how you can get the full effect your sister did, if you don’t go to all the meetings.”

  Cory gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, I’ll endure one more meeting. But only if I get to take EmJay.”

  A look of consternation passed over his face. “Uh . . . well.”

  “Come on. She’ll be all right. She likes me.”

  “I know she does. But she’s not the only one I’m worried about.”

  His comment took a minute to sink in. “Me? You’re afraid of what—that I’ll steal her?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “I don’t have a car.”

  “You have a cell phone.”

  She pulled it from her purse and gave it to him. “There. Now I don’t. Look. I give you my word. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, but only if she’ll go with you willingly.”

  Cory focused on EmJay. “Come on, darling. Come to Aunt Cory.” EmJay giggled but made no attempt to reach for her. Cory dug in her purse and held up a granola bar like the one she’d had for breakfast. EmJay wiggled her hands for it. “Nope, come to me first.” Cory took her as EmJay reached happily for the treat.

  “You’ll come find me if she cries?” Mitch asked.

  The concern in his eyes touched her. “Promise.”

  “Okay, then. Here’s her diaper bag. I’ll meet you here after the meeting.”

  Cory went into the room where the women were gathering. A woman wearing a navy suit dress introduced herself as the president of the class, but Cory didn’t remember her name.

  The lesson was on patriotism, and Cory found herself interested. The women seemed to share a great love for their country, and she admired their zeal. EmJay was happy sorting through the contents of her purse until her eyes glazed over and she slumped suddenly against Cory’s shoulder. Cory cradled the sleeping baby, her heart filling with an emotion that seemed much stronger than mere love.

  The teacher ended the lesson ten minutes to the hour, and then the president stood. “As you know, we usually have our practice hymn before the lesson,” she said. “But this week Janie had to go in and help the elders learn a song. So we’ll turn these last few minutes over to her.”

  The woman from the new member class stood up in front. “Please turn to ‘O My Father’ in your hymnbooks,” she said. “This is the song we sisters will be singing in ward conference.”

  Cory’s heart jumped when the music started. She knew this hymn; Cameron Huntington had sung it yesterday at AshDee’s memorial. Cory hadn’t planned on singing, but now she grabbed the book from the chair next to her and quickly found the place. According to Mitch, this was AshDee’s favorite hymn. She read the words as the women sang, sounding awkward compared to Mitch’s father but somehow bringing AshDee vividly to mind. Many emotions battered at Cory’s heart. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye.

  The song told a story of loving parents, both a mother and father, waiting for her in a royal heavenly court. One phrase stood out: “Yet ofttimes a secret something / Whispered, ‘You’re a stranger here.’” A stranger. That was exactly how Cory had felt so many times—that she was a stranger lost on earth. That she had stumbled upon this life by accident and didn’t really belong anywhere. Always before this feeling had been negative, but this song implied that being a stranger here was a natural occurrence because she had originally come from some other glorious place and was only biding time until she returned home.

  Was this why AshDee had loved this song? Cory wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think so. She would bet that AshDee had loved this song because it mentioned both a mother and a father. Growing up, her little sister had so longed for a mother.

  The meeting ended, and Cory stared down at the sleeping baby, hoping no one would talk to her. Gradually, everyone left except the president and another woman, both of whom kept glancing in her direction, as if wondering how to approach her. They were saved the decision when Mitch barreled into the room.

  “Oh, there you are.” Relief tinged his voice.

  Cory looked up, forgetting for a moment her tears. “Of course I’m here.”

  Mitch sat down beside her. “Are you all right?” He darted a frown at the two remaining women who were now drifting toward the door.

  “I’m fine.” Cory blinked, and another tear inched down her cheek.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Yes, you are. Did someone say something?” He looked ready to chase down all the women in his ward to find out what had happened.

  “No, I—” She took a deep breath, knowing she would have to give him some explanation. “Look, it was that stupid song. The one you said was AshDee’s favorite. I—I just miss her.” Her voice rose to a squeak, and Cory despised herself for being so weak.

  I swear, she thought, if he says one more word, I’m going to hit him. I’m going to hit him, and then I am going to take EmJay and run off to Brazil.

  Mitch didn’t speak. He sat there mutely while she sniffed and tried to compose herself. After a few moments, he reached out to take the hymnal from her fingers that had turned white with the force of her grip. Then he did a surprising thing. He put his hand over hers and squeezed.

  Warmth shot through Cory’s hand and rippled up her arm. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how cold and numb she felt. Mitch’s touch traveled through her like fire. Her tears ceased.

  Without meeting his gaze, she removed her hand from his. After smoothing EmJay’s hair, she handed her to Mitch and began gathering the items the baby had tossed from her purse. Cradling EmJay in one arm, Mitch watched her silently.

  Why would she feel such warmth at his touch? Mitch was nothing but an adversary she would have to face in court to win custody of her niece. He was nothing more than an interloper who compounded the indignity AshDee had committed when she chose to discard her family. Cory wished she never had to see him again.

  When her belongings were in place, she stood, shouldered both the purse and the diaper bag, and moved toward the door. She could sense Mitch following her, and another infusion of inexplicable warmth spread through her heart.

  Maybe, Cory thought, maybe there really is a God. If Mitch could sit by me and not speak, maybe God made him stay silent.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mitch didn’t know what to say as he followed Cory to his Mustang. Seeing Cory cradling Emily Jane in her arms with tears on her cheeks had moved him deeply. Moreover, he was beginning to doubt his own role as Emily Jane’s sole guardian.

  Obviously, Cory loved her niece, and he had to admit that the baby was taking much more quickly to her than she had to him. Given a few days alone with Cory, he doubted he would still be Emily Jane’s favorite. At least if Cory were to help raise Emily Jane, that would solve his problem of finding a mother for her.

  Yet what about Lane and Ashley’s wish to raise their daughter in the gospel?

  Immediately, Mitch’s confusion cleared. Teaching Emily Jane the precepts of the true gospel was more important than anything else. Her eternal salvation was on the line here, not just a mother figure. He couldn’t let Cory soften his resolve. With him, Emily Jane had not only the gospel but a large and loving extended family. And eventually he would find the woman he was supposed to marry, a woman who would love Emily Jane as her own. That meant he must fight Cory with everything in his soul. Yes, she could have time with her niece, but he wouldn’t give up custody.

  He waited until they were settled in the car before going on the attack. “Now you know why AshDee joined the Church,” he said. “Because the gospel is true.”

  Cory’s blue eyes opened wide. “All that because of a song? Don’t be ridiculous! AshDee was missing our mother, t
hat’s all. And that certainly doesn’t mean it’s true.”

  “Maybe not,” he conceded. “But you felt something just now—didn’t you?”

  She folded her arms. “I was missing my sister.”

  He didn’t reply. So much time had passed since his missionary days, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with her. She was both the most attractive and the angriest investigator he’d ever met.

  They were quiet for several long moments before Cory asked, “Do you really think AshDee believed in your church? Or was it just to punish my father for not . . . well, for not being the kind of father she wanted?” The question was clearly difficult for her to ask, and Mitch wondered what kind of childhood the sisters had endured.

  “She believed,” Mitch said quietly. “She believed with her whole heart. Ashley cared more about the gospel than anything besides her family, and that’s exactly why I should raise her daughter.”

  “Apparently she cared about her faith more than she cared about me and our father.” Cory’s words oozed bitterness.

  “Only a believer could really understand Ashley’s reasoning.”

  Cory snorted. “Well, at least you got that right. I still don’t understand why a white shirt at church is better than a blue one.”

  “Our church is a whole lot more than shirts,” he retorted. Then he saw the determined grin on her face and realized she was trying to lighten the mood. He smiled back. “We’re almost to your motel. Let’s call it quits until tomorrow. Okay?”

  She looked at Emily Jane with a longing in her eyes that was easy to read. “Okay.”

  Mitch forced himself to ignore her silent plea. He was not going to encourage her until he knew exactly where he stood legally. First thing on Monday, he’d make an appointment with his lawyer.

  Meanwhile, it might be better not to let the baby become attached to Cory. She would soon be far away in the jungle, hunting wild animals with her camera. Stifling a sudden flare of envy, he glared at the road ahead.

  “Uh, you wouldn’t know where I could find a better place to stay, would you?” Cory asked. “I mean for a longer period of time. I think I’ll be here a month.”

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the length of time. Was a month her lawyer’s recommendation? Or was it all the time she had between assignments? Part of him wanted to tell her to forget it, but the part of him who’d once watched Camelot five times in a week couldn’t deny a lady’s request for help.

  “I’ll call around,” he said. “If you want, you can come back with me to my house while I do.”

  “Good. I can play with EmJay.”

  Well, there went his plan to prevent them from having too much interaction. Still, one day didn’t constitute a relationship. “You could feed her, too.” He turned the car around.

  “Who are you going to call on a Sunday?”

  “The bishop in my neighborhood ward ought to be a good place to start.”

  “Is that the gray-haired man who was on the stand at the church?”

  “No. That’s my bishop. The people in my neighborhood belong to a family ward, and they have another bishop.”

  Cory shook her head. “I guess that sort of makes sense.”

  “Of course. The Lord always makes sense—even if we don’t know what it is at the time.”

  Her eyes dug into him. “So my sister’s death makes sense?”

  “God didn’t cause her death.”

  “He allowed it to happen.”

  “He gives us our agency. Would you rather He didn’t?”

  Cory blinked hard. “Right now? Truthfully? If it would bring AshDee back—yes.”

  He drove in silence, not knowing how to refute that claim when it was so close to his own feelings.

  “I’ll want a place close by,” Cory said after several long moments. “I’d like to take EmJay overnight sometimes.”

  He glanced away from the road and then back again. “She needs me at night. Only this past week has she finally stopped crying at night.”

  “She won’t cry when she knows me better.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “You think I might take her and run, don’t you?”

  “You live in Brazil. Can you honestly tell me the idea hasn’t crossed your mind?”

  She didn’t deny his words.

  “You see?” he said softly. “I have to protect both her mother’s wishes and Emily Jane herself. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Cory’s jaw clenched. “I’m her aunt. That counts for a lot.”

  Mitch nodded. “But I’m the guardian of her eternal salvation.”

  “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” She shook her head and turned toward the window.

  For some reason he didn’t care to explore, her words cut him deeply. How could he have even briefly entertained thoughts of allowing Emily Jane to spend time alone with this woman? She was hard, impossible, and downright antagonistic. He wished he could put her on the next plane to the Amazon. She’d be much better company for those Brazilian jaguars.

  Glancing over, he saw a single tear on her left cheek before she quickly brushed it away. His anger left as rapidly as it had come. She lost her sister, her only family, he reminded himself. How would I feel if I lost even one of my sisters? The thought was incomprehensible.

  At his house, Mitch took the still-sleeping Emily Jane from her car seat and settled her in her bed. She stirred when he laid her on her side, and he knelt by her bed to soothe her. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mitch is here. Sleep a little bit longer. Sleep, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  At last he withdrew his hand and stood. He froze when he saw Cory watching him from the hall. It bothered him that she was there, spying on his private time with Emily Jane.

  “So it’s true,” she said, her voice low. “You do hold her hand at night.”

  “It’s part of the promise.” He started into the hall.

  “Aaaah!” came Emily Jane’s wail. He turned immediately, but Cory rushed to the bed. The baby pushed at her and shook her head. “Much, Much!” she cried.

  Mitch gathered her in his arms. “I’m here, sweetie. Don’t cry. Hush now.” She was instantly quiet, laying her head on his shoulder.

  Cory watched them intently. “She said your name, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah. She just started last night.”

  “Can you say Cory?” she said to the baby. “Hmm. Maybe I should teach her to say Aunt Cory.”

  Mitch hoped she wouldn’t be around enough to teach her anything. “Aunt Cory is a mouthful. Don’t you have a nickname?”

  “Cory is my nickname.”

  “Oh? What’s your real name?”

  She made a face. “Corrine.”

  “Not bad. You should try being Mitchell. Tell you what. If you don’t call me Mitchell, I’ll promise not to call you Corrine.”

  Her grin softened her freckled face. “Deal.”

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you around. Emily Jane won’t let me put her down until she’s all the way awake—or back to sleep—so you might as well meet the rest of us.”

  “I noticed the frogs in the bathroom,” she commented.

  “I was cleaning their cage last night. Did you see a turtle?”

  She laughed. “Nope.”

  “Well, Tartar’s around somewhere. Just got him this week. He usually hangs out in my little alcove near the back door, if you want to take a peek. I have a sort of foot-washing sink built into the floor there.”

  “Tell me, is it potty trained?”

  “The guy I got him from said he was. He would have kept him, but he was being transferred overseas.” Mitch snapped his fingers. “Hey, I wonder if he sold his house yet. He might have a week or two leeway if he hasn’t.”

  “I need a month.”

  “Yeah, so you said. But you never know. This might be the answer.” Mitch went to the phone. He ended up calling the bishop, who referred him to the Relief Society preside
nt, who told him to call the new owners. The family turned out to be moving in the next day but from down the street, and their previous house hadn’t sold yet. They were more than happy to let Cory rent it for a month as long as she was willing to let them show the house to potential buyers. Mitch assured them she would.

  “So, it’s all settled,” he said, hanging up the phone. “They’ll try to get everything out by noon tomorrow. The wife said she’d call the Relief Society sisters and see if some of them would be willing to go over and help clean so you can move in right away.”

  “Just like that?” Cory’s expression was a little dazed.

  “That’s the way it always is,” Mitch said. “Our church members help each other.”

  “I’m not a member of your church.”

  “So? They help others, too.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Probably want me to join.”

  He grinned. “Probably. You’d better not talk to any of them. They might brainwash you.” She glared at him, and he laughed. She was pretty with her face flushed like that. “Hey, you asked for it.”

  She relaxed. “Maybe. I guess I’d better go back to the motel and start getting my stuff together. But I’ll need my cell phone back from you.”

  Mitch shifted Emily Jane’s weight so he could reach into his jacket pocket. Instead of the cell phone, he came out with a handful of lizard. “Oops. Forgot about her.” He started down the hall to the spare room. “Come along, if you want.”

  Cory stared in amazement at the many cages, and Mitch felt a little pride in the display. He had all the aquariums on knee-high shelves along two walls, with a space where the windows were so the animals wouldn’t feel a breeze. Lizzy Lizard’s aquarium was closest to the door, with her special lights hanging down from another shelf he’d built. Each large aquarium had a habitat especially prepared for a specific animal. He’d also built in a ventilation system, which really helped with the smell. In fact, the air in here was probably more healthy to breathe than in the rest of the house.

  Cory walked along the cages. “Gerbils, another gerbil, a lizard, hermit crabs, fish, and—hmm, what’s this?”

 

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