Or as close to home as he could get, Noah thought. “Much as I’d like to share a cup of coffee, I think when he comes back from his walk, I’ll get him settled. Thanks for keeping him, and for taking such good care of him.”
“I’m glad I could help, Noah. Let me know if there’s anything you need, OK?”
The air sang, chattering through tree branches, lifting the ends of her hair all over again. Appealing, Noah thought. Very appealing. Deepening sunlight exploded across the sky in a multi-colored, radiant sunset that sparkled in her eyes. All of a sudden, Noah craved the layers of warmth he discovered. The scent of pine surrounded him, so indicative of the Angelina National Forest that rimmed the small, picturesque complex of bungalow-style units.
Remembering himself, returning his focus to Dylan alone and the rock-strewn pathway ahead, Noah shook himself to proper attention but gave Charlotte’s arm a squeeze. “That means a lot to me. And to Dylan.”
She nodded and shaded her eyes to study him. “I’m here for you both, Noah.”
****
Charlotte was right. Dylan seemed relieved to be home, tucked into the space he had shared with his mother. For Noah, that first moment of crossing the threshold of Jennifer’s apartment, of stepping into a life half-lived and unexpectedly cut short, proved nothing short of nerve rattling.
A book—print of course, since his sister was a hold-out for the touch, texture, and smell of a good old-fashioned novel—rested on the end table near her couch. A satiny blue ribbon marked the spot where she had left off. It was a suspense offering—always one of her favorite genres. While Dylan trounced to his room, Noah moved slowly through his sister’s space, fingers glossing lightly against wood tables just starting to show dust accumulation and a need for cleaning. His gaze went to the kitchen. Tidy and clean. Probably Charlotte’s doing as she grabbed odds and ends for Dylan.
At present, his nephew seemed to be going through some drawers in his bedroom. The interlude allowed Noah to relax into this new space—his new space—and continue to explore.
He stopped at the desk that was positioned in a corner of Jennifer’s living room. There a laptop rested, closed and powered down. Next to the computer he discovered a hand-written note in his sister’s delicate script that caught and held his attention.
A note to Charlotte.
Puzzled, he lifted the lone sheet of flower-edged paper, dated the day before Jennifer died. Throat swelling, he began to read.
Charlotte ~
Saying ‘Thank you’ feels so inadequate…but as I sit at the computer tonight, checking e-mail and the latest status updates from my friends, I felt compelled to actually pull out a pen and a piece of stationary so I can let you know how I feel, and share in a more personal way how much I appreciate you.
I know I can always count on you, and so can Dylan. That means more to me than this note, and my words, can ever say. You know the turmoil my parents put me through, and how much I rely on my brother’s reinforcement. You know how hard I’ve struggled to find my footing as a single, working mom wanting nothing more than to show her child some kind of goodness. You bring depth and meaning to our lives, and you’ve motivated me to keep trying, to keep fighting for a life that’s better. Thank you for that.
You’re the best friend I could ever have, and I want you to know the person you are, and the gifts you give, are appreciated, and are helping shape not just my life, but Dylan’s life, and the lives of the kids you guide and protect. God bless you, and see you at church. My prayer is that you will always know, and always remember that
There the words ended. The note wasn’t finished and it hadn’t been signed. Perhaps Jennifer had struggled to conclude the message to her friend. Maybe his sister had figured there’d be more time and that the following day would provide her with the exact words she sought. Life offered no such promises. Not until he gathered a breath did Noah realize the tightness of his muscles, the degree to which he battled the reality of Jennifer’s death and the responsibilities left behind.
But as he heard Dylan move through his room the word responsibility dissolved into love—and a fierce sense of purpose.
****
“So…did you tell Noah?”
“About what? The welcome party this Friday night? Nope. I didn’t.” Charlotte tucked her cellphone between her cheek and shoulder so she could stretch to reach the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Connected to her friend Emmy Lassiter, Charlotte continued to unload and put away the last of the dishes from the washer.
“Char, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Dylan. The issues that have been cropping up at school and—”
“Emmy, Noah Talbert just landed in town, and he doesn’t need to be overwhelmed any more than he already is. Dylan has acted out a bit in class; that’s to be expected after the magnitude of what he’s faced recently.” Moving to the living room, Charlotte looked through the large, picture window of her apartment. Just past the shadow line of the gazebo was Jennifer’s unit. She shook her head, sadness swelling. The cottage wasn’t Jen’s any longer. It now belonged to Noah. Lights burned from within and occasional shadows danced across the windows. “Can’t I at least let him unpack and allow Dylan to reestablish some form of a normal routine before I rush in with warnings about potential problems?”
Her gaze tracked to Noah’s car, a barely discernable shadow parked before the cottage-style unit that mirrored her own. He had emptied the vehicle fairly quickly, which she knew for a fact because she had peeked at his progress from time to time.
And that fact left her dangerously close to being a nosey-neighbor.
Huffing a breath, Charlotte stepped away from the window and resolutely turned her back on the view, focusing instead on her childhood friend. “So how’s everything at Babycakes? With spring and summer rushing in, I’ll bet the place is jumping.” An enthusiastic discussion ensued about Emmy’s ice cream and sweets shop in Angel Falls, which carried the most delectable goodies in the world as far as Charlotte was concerned.
The conversation shift also gave Charlotte some breathing room and distance from warm imaginings and mounting concerns regarding the arrival of Noah Talbert in town.
“Hey, here’s an idea.” Emmy continued. “Why don’t you and Noah bring Dylan to the store this Saturday for Saturday Sprinkles? Cade Magnusen is bringing his niece Gracie, and I’d love for her to meet Dylan at our weekly story time session. Besides, Cade and Noah have so much in common—they just might find a way to mutually support one another in the midst of the firestorms they’re facing. Know what I mean?”
Without even realizing it, Charlotte had wandered back to the living room where she stared out of the window at an inky black stretch of land punctuated by lights that were strewn throughout the complex. The lights at Noah’s place had been turned off. He had endured a long day, she imagined, and probably craved a good night’s sleep…
Ugh. Charlotte stomped away, rebuking herself once more for giving in to that strange and random sense of attachment to the man.
And Dylan, of course.
“Char…you still there?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Zoned out for a second. I’ll run it past them and see if they’re interested. He’s probably pretty busy with the move and establishing himself in Angel Falls, but I’ll ask. You’re right about Cade. His life has run such a parallel path to Noah. Gracie is four, right? Just a bit younger than Dylan?”
“Yep. Four going on ten. She’s smart and sassy and bright. Dylan’s going to love her.”
Like Noah, Cade was a newbie to the realm of Heart’s Haven. By forming tight family bonds, Cade and his niece, Gracie, recovered from family tragedy just like Noah and Dylan would, so Emmy’s idea struck an instant chord. Saturday Sprinkles was a weekly story time for kids held at Emmy’s shop and would provide the perfect means by which to continue Noah’s introduction to life in Angel Falls. Of course, Charlotte had to admit, it didn’t hurt matters any that she’d also be able to discover a few more
details about the man—like job plans, for example. Maybe she could help by connecting him to some employment prospects. Jennifer had always raved about Noah’s skills as a handyman. Perhaps Kevin Mitchell, the head grounds keeper and maintenance supervisor at the complex, would be interested in taking on some help around the Haven.
Her mind spinning with ideas, Charlotte wrapped the call with Emmy and shook her head. There she was again, off to save the world. The characteristic was intrinsic to her nature and drove her as an elementary school counselor. She loved to help people. Uplifting troubled kids in particular, guiding them to a place where they could heal, rebuild, and take on life with joyful hope filled her life with meaning.
Maybe…just maybe…she could use her calling to help Noah and Dylan discover a solid path toward renewal.
2
The quiet serenity of a star-dusted sky enveloped the dips and flats of the grounds of Heart’s Haven as Charlotte made her way to the monthly barbeque gathering of Heart’s Haven staff and residents. A rolling tract of land was rimmed by the shadows of towering pine trees that formed an edge of the Angelina National Forest. The lawn was illuminated by milky moon rays and she breathed deep of cool, tangy air, walking the short distance to the recreation building of the complex. The closer she came to the facility, the more the noise from within increased—tempting her spirit with the promise of lilting conversations, laughter, and music.
Carrying a bowl of spicy kale chips fresh from the oven, she crossed the threshold and was welcomed by a pair of enthusiastic kids—Dylan and little Gracie Springer, the niece of Cade Magnusen.
Automatically Charlotte’s gaze roamed. She smiled when she discovered Cade and Emmy Lassiter not far away, chatting with Noah Talbert near a buffet-style food table that lined the left wall. A special light in Emmy’s eyes filled Charlotte with satisfaction. The softened body language of the handsome newspaper reporter with whom Emmy spent increasing amounts of time, caused Charlotte to smile because there were happy roads to be found, even when life dealt its saddening blows. Cade could—and most likely would—write a book on the topic. So could Noah and Dylan.
God had a purpose here. That much became clearer and clearer.
“I’m so glad they’ve all hit it off.” Charlotte murmured beneath her breath at the same instant a breath of air tickled her cheeks. She could have sworn she felt a Spirit rush. In her heart resounded a sweet, heavenly chime as a push—invisible but irrefutable—propelled her toward the spot where Noah stood.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.”
“Likewise, Cade.”
Charlotte stepped to the food banquet, tuning in to the conversation as the men exchanged mutual condolences.
Cade’s sigh came out heavy. “I’ve said it so many times lately—but it still rings true—I never expected the guardianship codicil of my sister’s will to require enforcement.”
“Exactly. And I do know the feeling.” Noah poured root beer into a plastic cup. “It’s like we’re mirror images.”
“And I would say that means the angels of Heart’s Haven are on the move bringing everyone together. Hey, all.” Charlotte settled her bowl amidst a plethora of homemade food samplings that left her mouth to water. She lifted a plate and studied the selections, eager to start sampling.
While greetings took place, Dylan charged forward and danced around Charlotte, giving her arm a playful tug. “Where’s Yoda? Did you bring Yoda? Can he play with us outside? Miss Jaci said she couldn’t bring Baby, because Baby’s too big, but Yoda could play, couldn’t he? Did you bring him?”
While Dylan prodded and enthused, Gracie stuck to the youngster’s side, her sandy curls bouncing as she bopped her head in time to the current musical selection—Chris Tomlin’s latest.
Charlotte, meanwhile, fell into the memory of leaving her house tonight and the way Yoda’s plaintive whimpers and sad brown eyes had riddled her with guilt. “Aww, I’m sorry, buddy, but Yoda’s at home in his crate.”
After a tongue cluck and shoulder slump, Dylan nabbed Gracie’s arm and made tracks for the play area Vivian Hart had established in a corner of the rec room for use by the evening’s younger guests. Vivian owned the complex; she had inherited it following the death of her beloved husband and original owner, Andy Hart. The elderly but spirited soul had gone so far as to commission a face painter for tonight’s party, and the kids formed an exuberant line while another entertainer formed balloons into animal shapes.
Charlotte continued the conversational trail. “Poor Yoda. He’d be in his glory if I brought him here, but he’d also be overwhelmed. It always breaks my heart to put him in his cage, because it reminds me of how I found him.”
“How did that happen, exactly?” Noah posed the question but studied the bowl of dark green kale chips, brows pulled. “And, not meaning to offend or anything, but what exactly are those?”
Emmy scooped a few crispy leaves onto a plate and popped one into her mouth; her happy sigh tickled Charlotte’s heart. Charlotte didn’t consider herself much of a cook, but these little beauties always hit the right note at family gatherings and Haven bashes.
“These are pure awesomeness. Take my word for it. They’re green, and healthy, but they’re crunchy, and they’ve got delicious seasonings, plus a bit of a kick. You’ve got to try some.”
Following Emmy’s endorsement, Noah arched a brow and plucked a few chips, studying them with doubt before taking a taste. Charlotte smiled at the way his doubts transformed into immediate pleasure.
Instead of focusing on his reaction, Charlotte plowed ahead with her animal rescue story. “When I found Yoda, he was all penned in and sad and scared…” Focused, Noah appeared eager for elaboration, and he reached for a refresher of chips for his plate. Their group skirted the food table and filled their plates with steaming meatballs, veggies, salsa and chips, fresh-baked slices of apple pie.
“So, he was trapped?” Noah prompted.
“In a way.” Since it was a true a case of happily-ever-after, Charlotte warmed to the topic. “I was on my way to work a couple months ago when I had to stop at the ATM for cash. Since the ATM machine was housed in the outer lobby of the bank, I ran inside, in a deluge of rain, naturally. That’s when I saw him.”
Noah turned and stared. “He was in the bank lobby?”
“The ATM lobby, which was separate, and yes, he had been abandoned.” Noah hissed out a sound of disgust that prompted Charlotte to continue. “He was soaking wet. A whimpering, shivering mess. But I was on my way to work, and even though I took a few minutes to pet him and comfort him, I had to leave.”
Noah held his plate aloft, food untouched, his gaze trained and intent. “What happened after that? I mean, you ended up adopting him, obviously, but—”
“Well, I went to work, but that stranded little puppy went right along with me because I couldn’t get him out of my mind.”
“So you went back for him?”
Charlotte nodded. “Took me all of about five minutes at my office before I knew I had to turn right back around and go get him. Fortunately, he was there waiting.”
“Destiny.”
“So it would seem.”
Yoda had cowered away from her at first, terrified and trembling, his backend resting in a small yellow puddle. Charlotte hadn’t given a thought to her dress slacks or to the silk blouse she wore that day. Instead, she gathered him close, wrapped him in a towel she pulled from the trunk of her car, then spent the next few hours cleaning him up and shopping for doggie supplies.
The rest was fur-family history.
“It occurs to me that you never stop coming to the aid of those in need.”
“Evidently.” She watched Noah, taken in by a solid, perfect build, strong shoulders, and his hands, of all things. He had a carpenter’s hands—large with long fingers that were somewhat calloused. She could almost feel a brush stroke of rough versus soft against her arms as she imagined his touch…
Oh, heaven help her. Charlotte po
ured herself some soda and swallowed fast while he reached into the front pocket of his shirt and extracted a neatly folded piece of paper. Cade and Emmy had tucked into a pair of chairs and seemed happily ensconced in a private conversation. Noah surrendered the page, guiding Charlotte to a quiet corner of the room.
“I wanted you to have this. I found it on top of Jen’s desk the other day and figured she’d want you to have it, incomplete and all.” He slipped his fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans. “I hope you don’t mind, but, it was lying in plain sight. Some of her last words, from what I gather.”
Charlotte smiled into his eyes, understanding at once. “And so you read it. That’s fine by me. I would have done the same thing, I’m sure.”
“It’s just that I miss her. A lot. I saw the date, and…”
He flexed his jaw, emotions obviously on the rise. Charlotte didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by stalling against a silence that lengthened; she unfolded the paper and began to read. Sure enough, per a neatly inked hallmark in the top right corner, the note was dated the day before Jennifer died.
Seconds in, her throat squeezed; blurred vision caused the words to waver—but she soldiered on, brushing teardrops from her lashes.
Noah, bless him, rested a hand against her shoulder. “I’m sorry to have upset you. I should have given it to you privately.”
“No…no, this is beautiful. It’s a beautiful gift. Thank you.” Following a sniffle, she blinked a few times and finished reading. Noah pressed a handkerchief into her hand. Charlotte looked up at him in surprise. No men she knew carried handkerchiefs anymore; that touch of old-fashioned warmed her heart and stirred a wonderful swirl of feminine pleasure.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice her elongated inner stumble. Rather, he gave her a questioning look. “What did she want you to remember?”
Huh? Charlotte lost track, then remembered. The close of the letter. He wondered about the way Jen had tried to finish the note. “She wanted me always to remember that the angels are all around me.” Charlotte knew that without question. “She wanted me to believe in the power of God’s angels, and trust God to bring me the…”—precious love story, the man—“…the life I’ve always dreamed of and always seem to be searching for.”
Nobody's Baby but Mine Page 2
