Reclaiming Charity (The Potter's House Books Book 21)

by Marion Ueckermann

  Madison was busy wiping the granite island top when her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Her heart beat faster as she picked up the phone and read the message from her husband.

  charity still not home. i’m calling duncan. please contact candice. i’ll let you know what i hear.

  Hand’s trembling, she dialed Candice.

  Her friend answered in her usual cheerful voice. “Madison, hi. So good to hear from you. It’s been a while.”

  “Hi Candice. Sorry. I was out of town last week. Listen, I hate to cut to the chase, but is Charity perhaps visiting with Shana?”

  “Charity? Noooo. We haven’t seen her in at least two or three weeks. Is something wrong?”

  Legs weakening, Madison slumped onto the nearest stool. “I… It’s probably nothing, but we don’t know where Charity is. She’s been missing for the past hour and we can’t get in touch with her.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be home soon,” Candice said. “Try not to fret.”

  An incoming call beeped in Madison’s ear.

  “I have to go.”

  “Please keep me posted.” Candice cut the call.

  “Any news?” Madison asked anxiously the moment she answered Brody’s call.

  “Nothing. They haven’t seen or heard from Charity in at least two weeks. A–and you?”

  “Same news from Candice.”

  “Babe, I’m really worried.” Brody’s voice broke and it sounded as if he might be crying. “This is my fault.”

  “Honey, just sit tight. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  AT HOME, Madison pulled her Mini Cooper to a stop in the driveway.

  Brody stood there waiting for her, still dressed in the suit pants and formal shirt he’d worn to work. Normally by this time, he’d changed into something more casual.

  As soon as she stepped out of the car, he wrapped his arms around her.

  She hugged him back, worried too. Already, she’d shot several prayers to heaven on the way over from Sandy’s house, hoping that God would hear them.

  Brody buried his head in her neck and sobbed. “What have we done? What have I done? If something happens to her, I–I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Madison didn’t want to entertain any of the possibilities of what could’ve happened to their daughter. Her mind churned over the alternatives, every one scarier than the last.

  “We should go to the police and report her missing.” Brody wiped his eyes as he sniffed. He wove his fingers between Madison’s then led her inside.

  “H–have you checked her bedroom? Noticed if anything is missing?” There might be something that would give them some indication of where she could be.

  “I haven’t. Besides, I wouldn’t know if anything was missing or out of place. Although…” He glanced toward the staircase. “I did find the prayer journal Faith recently bought her lying on the floor beside her bed. It seemed as if she’d dropped it there.”

  That didn’t sound like something Charity would do. Baxter would find it and soon sink his teeth into its precious pages. That journal was almost as sacred to Charity as her Bible was.

  “Let’s check her room first.” Madison started toward the staircase. “I’ll soon know if anything isn’t there.”

  Upstairs in their daughter’s room, Madison scanned the closets and shelves. Hmm, none of the clothes she had packed for Charity for their New York trip were there.

  She whirled around to face Brody. “Where’s the suitcase Charity took to New York?”

  Brody sank onto the edge of their daughter’s bed. “I don’t know. She took it upstairs with her last night when you were still here. Later, when Charity discovered that I’d told you to leave, she ran up to her room and locked herself inside. I haven’t seen her since. I–I guess her suitcase should still be here, unless she unpacked it today and took it back to the garage. I can check.”

  Madison shook her head. “Don’t bother. She hasn’t unpacked. None of the clothes she took with her are in her closet. And I should know—I packed her bag.”

  “Maybe she emptied the suitcase and dumped the clothes in the laundry bin?”

  “She wouldn’t have. My mother was very particular that her maids washed and ironed our clothes every day. Charity still boasted that she had a suitcase bursting with clean clothes in case—” She clamped her teeth around her bottom lip. Brody didn’t need to know what Charity had been thinking. He was feeling bad enough as it was.

  He gazed up at her, a frown creasing his brow. “In case what, Madison?”

  “N–nothing.”

  He rose and stood in front of her, taking her hands in his. “It’s not nothing. I know you. In case what?”

  Madison expelled the air from her lungs with a heavy sigh. “In case you kicked us out.”

  She wished she could have spared him the pained expression that resulted from her words.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.”

  Madison’s eyes flitted around the room to see if Charity had left a note. Nothing. Her gaze came to rest on the bright red poppies of her daughter’s prayer journal and she reached for the book. She eased down on the bed beside the pillow, one finger trailing the edge of a poppy. Dare she open and read what her daughter had written of late? Normally she’d respect Charity’s privacy, but the circumstances were unusual, even dire. And they could find the answer within these pages to where Charity could be.

  She gazed up at Brody and motioned for him to sit down beside her. This was something they needed to do together.

  Brody’s heart shattered as he read the entries in Charity’s journal, starting from the final one she’d written last night. What had he and Madison done to their beautiful girl?

  Correction. He was passing the buck again. How had he stirred up such havoc? Somehow, he’d hardened his heart and refused to see the pain he was causing both his wife and his daughter. Madison—the one he had sworn to cherish—his daughter, their precious gift from God.

  Madison sobbed softly, turning back a page every time Brody nodded that he was finished reading.

  Words from the book containing his daughter’s handwriting penetrated his mind as if some unearthly power made them rise from the cream-colored paper.

  My heart is broken… Don’t think I can cry any more tears… Couldn’t open the door when my dad knocked… Better if I don’t talk to my parents right now… A lot of steps back… Far away from this situation… Don’t understand my father’s reasoning… Can’t stand being in this house with its turmoil… Know what I need to do… Soon as Dad has left for work in the morning…

  Madison stopped and pointed to the words Brody had just read. “Does this mean she’s possibly been gone for over eleven hours, not one?” Her eyes widened as realization dawned. “That would mean Melinda lied.”

  She started to rise. “She wasn’t with Charity all day—she was covering for her. But she definitely had seen her because she returned without Baxter.” She whipped her phone out of her pants’ pocket. “I need to call Sandy.”

  Brody stopped her. “Honey, sit. Let’s finish reading first—it’s only a few entries, and it might give us some insight into where she could’ve gone.”

  Madison nodded and sank onto the mattress again. “You’re right.”

  They continued reading where they’d left off. And the words continued to dance before his very eyes.

  Nothing will change, and I could bear that even less… Never unpacked… Supplying what I will need… All that money from my grandpa and grandmother… Choose between them… I can’t…. I won’t… You’ll understand my actions… My dad to agree to come to New York for Ellie Sanders’s exhibition…

  Over his dead body.

  He exhaled a heavy sigh. Did it really matter anymore? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone concerned if he told them his deepest secret? Maybe if he did that, they could all move forward from there.

  Together.

  But how, when he’d carried this bur
den alone for so long?

  Madison lifted the page to turn it, but Brody stopped her. Sidetracked with his thoughts, he hadn’t quite finished the entry.

  So worried that this could be the fight they don’t recover from… Don’t want to have divorced parents…

  Brody turned the page this time.

  Just one perfect day is all I wanted… Aunt Faith…she always knows how to make me feel better… Only You can paint a beautiful picture of their lives… Help me to forgive my parents again… I wish every day at home could be filled with as much love and fun as tonight… Hate it when Mom and Dad argue… That’s the reason I gave up painting… Irrational, jealous, possessive, unreasonable, and inflexible people…

  That was how she saw them, why she no longer expressed herself artistically, except on these pages? He fingered the beautiful pen sketch beneath that first journal entry, not nearly long enough to fill the page, so she’d drawn a rose to fill the blank space. They were to blame?

  His mind sped through their arguments, the tantrums, raised voices, heated words…

  They’d been so busy sparring in stupid fights, they never realized their marriage was breaking. Could he and Madison ever fix things between them?

  Not unless you let Me help you…

  There was that voice again. Just like on the phone the other night with Faith.

  Madison closed Charity’s book and set it down on the nightstand again. She twisted around to face him. “C–can I ask you something?”

  Brody swallowed hard, unsure what question was headed his way. “Of course.”

  “Why did you confiscate Charity’s phone? If you hadn’t, we would be able to get in touch with her right now.”

  What was she talking about?

  “I didn’t take away her phone. She left it on the kitchen table last night. It was still there when I left this morning. Come to think of it, I didn’t notice it there tonight.”

  Madison groaned. “Melinda… She was lying to me. She said you’d taken Charity’s phone from her last night. I knew she was keeping something from me and Sandy. And this proves it. I–I think she knows where our daughter is hiding.”

  So did he. Not that Charity was hiding, but he was almost certain he knew where to find her. Although how she got there was a mystery. Surely she couldn’t have driven that far? Maybe she caught a plane, but could she do that with Baxter? Probably. He was small enough still to travel as a carry-on.

  Brody opened the journal and flipped the page to the second entry. He scanned the words again, and hope surged.

  Aunt Faith always knows how to make me feel better…

  He was positive he was right.

  “I–I think I know where Charity is, or where she’s headed. Although if she’s been gone for as long as you suspect, she could’ve arrived a few hours ago.” If that was the case, why hadn’t his sister called him?

  It was a long shot, but the only one they had. If he was wrong… He didn’t even want to think about being wrong. He couldn’t wrap his mind around going down to the police station to report their daughter missing, and somehow dealing with the aftermath of what that would entail.

  Brody stretched out his leg and shoved his hand in his pants pocket to retrieve his phone. He dialed Faith’s number.

  He was about to hang up when she answered.

  “Brody... I was just about to contact you.” His sister sounded annoyed.

  He put the phone on speaker so that Madison could also hear. His throat swelled with emotion, making it difficult for him to speak. Swallowing hard, he managed to stutter, “I–is she t–there? With you?”

  Please God, let her be there.

  Chapter Eighteen

  MADISON’S HEAD spun at the thought. Could Charity really be all the way in Colorado?

  Faith’s voice booming over the speaker quickly drew her back to the present. “You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

  In all the years that Madison had been married to Brody, she’d never heard his sister so angry. In fact, she’d never heard Faith angry, period. Not even when she had thought her husband was cheating on her.

  “Faith, is Charity with you?” Madison reiterated Brody’s question. But just because it seemed as if Faith knew something was up, it didn’t mean that their daughter was there with her in Loveland.

  “Yes. Charity is here with us. What on earth is going on?” Faith’s tone was demanding and unsympathetic toward Brody and Madison. “Imagine my surprise when, just as I’m about to serve dinner, I see a yellow Volkswagen pull up in my driveway and my favorite niece—my only niece—climb out of the small car. Your child was on the road for ten hours, and you didn’t even know she was missing? How could you be so clueless?”

  In their defense, how could they have known? Still, if she had only driven home earlier that morning to check on Charity, she might’ve been able to stop her foolhardy quest. She couldn’t believe that her daughter had driven across Kansas to the next state. Nearly six hundred miles.

  Madison opened her mouth to speak then shut it. She had no words of explanation. Finally she asked, “H–how is she? I–is she okay?”

  “What do you think?” Faith shot back. “She’s exhausted from the journey, as is her puppy, and her heart is broken.”

  Of course, Baxter was with her. At least she hadn’t been alone in the car. But the pup aside, hadn’t Charity always said she’d never be alone because God was always with her?

  Thank You for keeping my child safe.

  “You should be ashamed of yourselves. And Brody… What in the world is wrong with you? How can you give up on your marriage over something as trivial as your wife’s talent?”

  Exactly! How could he? And not only had he given up on her, but his actions had caused their daughter to run away. Now that she knew their daughter was safe, the more she thought about the things Brody had done, the more her anger simmered.

  Faith huffed. “You should be proud of Madison and want the world to see what she’s capable of. Instead, it seems you’re quite happy to hide her talents under the bushel called Peterson Galleries…choosing whom you wish to see her work.” She was on a roll telling them off, especially Brody. There seemed there’d be no stopping her.

  Brody’s face contorted, and he shot back, “Because he did, and look where it got him!”

  “He? You’re talking in riddles, Brody. Who did what?” Faith seemed as confused by Brody’s statement as Madison.

  His face crumpled, and he yanked the elastic from his hair. He raked his fingers through the shoulder-length brown strands then inhaled deeply, his cheeks expanding like a blowfish as he exhaled the breath. “I–it’s time you all learned the ugly t–truth.”

  Feeling sick to her stomach, Madison brushed a palm across his cheek, unable to shake the sense that the next words about to come out of Brody’s mouth would change their lives forever.

  And she had no idea whether it would be a change for the better, or for the worse.

  Turning his head to face her, Madison’s eyes searched his, her heart pounding from anger, fear, confusion. “What truth, Brody?”

  At the same time, Faith asked the same question.

  Brody leaned his head back to look at the ceiling as he wiped his hands over his face. He lowered his head to stare at the phone trembling in his hand. “D–dad. He did everything to encourage my mother’s artistic talent, but it backfired on him, and he was left with a broken heart and a tiny babe to raise. Alone.”

  On the other side of the line, Faith choked. “Whoa… Back up a bit. What do you mean your mother? Our mom didn’t have a creative bone in her body. She was the mathematician…always said I got my analytical brain from her. Besides, she was there for you, Brody. Wasn’t she?”

  What if their mother hadn’t been? Brody was almost three years older than Faith. Who knew what happened in their parents’ marriage during those first few years? Question was—how did Brody know? He couldn’t possibly remember things he’d experienced when he was that
young.

  Brody rubbed his jaw with his free hand, exhaling yet another weighted sigh. “W–we don’t have the same biological mother, Faith.”

  What?

  “Dad was married before? You have a different mother?” Disbelief thickened Faith’s words.

  “To his shame, they never married, Dad always said. Even though he’d desperately wanted to. That’s why it was so much easier for my mom to walk out the door and leave—pursue her career, never look back.”

  Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fitting together, the picture became clearer, and Madison started to understand her husband’s fears. This must have been so hard for him to speak about.

  Her earlier anger began to ebb away, compassion taking its place.

  If only she had known.

  “I’m so sorry, Faith,” Brody sobbed, wiping his eyes. “I never wanted you to know that we were only half-brother and sister. I–I thought you would love me less…maybe not love me at all.”

  “No! We are, and always will be, brother and sister. Nothing can change that, Brody. Nothing can diminish the love I have for you as my older brother.”

  Bless Faith’s heart. She always knew the right thing to say.

  Oh the turmoil Brody must’ve felt growing up, knowing he wasn’t fully one of them. No wonder he had issues.

  Madison’s eyes teared up again at her husband’s suffering. Just how long had he kept this secret? At least eight years, for sure—since before his parents’ deaths. Maybe longer. Perhaps Brody’s father had told him on his deathbed.

  “D–do you know anything about her?” Faith asked. “If you’re up to talking about it, that is. I’d really like to know, and I’m sure Madison would too, so that we can understand your pain.”

  Brody nodded to the screen, even though this wasn’t a video call. “S–she was an aspiring artist—and yes, I take after her. There came a day, not that long into their relationship, when she got her big break. According to Dad, she said it was something she couldn’t pursue with a six-month-old on the hip, one she had—” His voice broke and he hung his head. His loose hair swayed as he shook his head from side to side. Swallowing hard, he sucked in a breath. “…never bonded with anyway, who was merely a hindrance to her ability to create. So she walked out on Dad and me, and never looked back. Dad moved from Kansas to Colorado a year later where he met your…our mother. They soon married.”