Hidden in the Heart

by Catherine West

  “We didn’t know…didn’t understand things like we do now.” Jessie’s tearful explanation pulled at Claire’s heart and sent a shudder through her. “It wasn’t until years later that we realized just how wrong we’d been. About everything.”

  “That’s when you started Church on the Rock, isn’t it?” Darcie asked, a bare smile touching her lips.

  Her grandfather nodded. “We found we weren’t alone. There were others who’d been hurt, misled and misunderstood.”

  “We’ve seen a lot of healing up there on the rock.” Jessie smiled, a twinkle in her eyes chasing off sorrow. “We’ve moved past those dark days. But Shelly, well…she’s a different story. I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it. Or forgive us.”

  Mac blew his nose and coughed. “We tried to contact her over the years, to talk about what happened and ask for her forgiveness, but she never would come to see us. We had minimal contact. We knew she’d married and of course she told us when you were born, Darcie, allowed us to send cards and gifts to you, but she never came back to Bethel.”

  Jessie stood behind Mac and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I desperately wanted to know what had happened to you, Claire, whether she had you or…oh, I prayed she hadn’t done the unthinkable, angry as she was.”

  She moved around Mac’s chair and perched on the couch next to Claire, took her hand in hers and smiled. “One day, not too long after the time you must have been born, I had a dream. I saw a baby lying in a crib, wrapped up in a pink blanket. And she was crying. Crying with all her might. She was alone, abandoned. You could hear the pain of rejection in her cries. I felt it in my spirit. And I knew then that this wasn’t over. I knew that one day I’d see you again.”

  Claire stiffened, all the hairs on her arms rising. Warmth unlike anything she’d ever experienced flooded through her being as she concentrated on Jessie’s kind face. Her grandmother’s smile lit the room.

  “The very day you showed up here at Tara’s Place, Claire, I had that same dream. I’d almost forgotten it. But I took a nap later that afternoon, after I got you settled, and it came back to me.” She laughed, wiped her tears and clapped her hands together. “God hadn’t given me that dream for no reason. Oh, girls, He always keeps his promises.”

  “That’s amazing.” James whispered. Claire nodded, the powerful image capturing all speech.

  “What about my Mom?” Darcie’s voice shook, her eyes wild. “How will she get over this?” Deep, silent sobs shook her thin frame. Mac took her in his arms and hushed her.

  Claire shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Maybe once I’m gone, she’ll come back. It’s me she doesn’t want to face.”

  “Claire, no.” Darcie managed to get a handle on her emotion, crossed the room and crouched before her. She gripped Claire’s hands in hers. Her warm smile displayed her true feelings, her cheeks red, eyes shining. “It’s not about you, Claire. It’s not about any of us. She’s running from herself. I think seeing Rick again, whatever he said to her, softened something in her. I know deep down she wants to meet you, get to know you. I’m sure she wants to forgive Grandma and Grandpa. I just think she doesn’t know how yet.”

  Darcie rose, still holding Claire’s hand. Her eyes shone with new light as she smiled at Jessie and extended her other hand to her. “You’re right, Grandma, God does keep His promises. We’re all here today to testify to that. And I believe Mom will come home. That’s what we’ll pray for.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Michelle sat in her apartment and watched the sun come up. Traffic on the street began to increase in volume. The alarm clock in her room went off, and she traipsed down the hall to silence it. She’d already been awake for hours.

  After a meager breakfast of coffee, half a bagel and more coffee, she settled on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest. She was worn out and desperate for answers. She’d even tried praying, but soon gave up. Why would God listen to her now?

  Nightmares plagued her. She’d made it through the last few days operating on automatic pilot. Written speeches, made appointments, booked dinner reservations, all the while trying not to allow her mind to wander back to the place she’d run from so long ago.

  Back to Bethel.

  Claire was probably back home in Connecticut by now. Darcie had said Claire’s husband’s vacation was ending soon.

  Michelle gazed around her pristine surroundings. The apartment was sparsely decorated with a few pieces of furniture, but there was nothing that would give anyone a glimpse into her personality. No colorful paintings on the wall or family photographs displayed. The place seemed almost empty.

  Like her life.

  Darcie called the other night to see how she was doing. She’d put Jackson on the phone and Michelle spoke to her grandson for the first time. She smiled at the memory of his little voice. He sounded adorable, such a chatterbox. She’d promised to come and see him soon.

  Michelle gave a sigh and pushed off the couch. She glanced at the clock and picked up the phone. It was early, but she didn’t care.

  He answered on the third ring. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you,” he said, after she announced herself.

  “Yes. I’m sure you know why I’m calling.” She clutched the receiver and willed her hands to stop trembling.

  “Have you seen her, spoken to her?” He sounded older, but as in control as ever.

  “I saw her briefly the other night. We haven’t really talked.”

  “But you want to.”

  Michelle nodded, unable to speak. Tears slipped down her cheeks into the receiver. “I wasn’t sure what…if…you’d told her…I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

  His low chuckle surprised her. “I didn’t think you political types were big on grace.”

  “I’ve never really been a political type,” Michelle admitted, the revelation startling and sad. “Just a wannabe.”

  He gave a short sigh and she heard him sniff. “If you’re calling to ask me for advice, Ms. Hart, I’m not sure you’re going to like what I have to say.”

  “Go ahead.” She waited, stretching out her legs on the chair across from her.

  He cleared his throat, paused a long moment, and went on. “I think you should tell her the truth. She’s gone through enough. She deserves to know the whole story. All of it.”

  “But you…this could damage your relationship. I’m sure she already thinks I’m a real piece of work so I don’t have much to lose. But you…you’re her…father.”

  “I am, yes. But I’m not perfect. What you and I did was wrong, no doubt, but I think if you have any thoughts at all of establishing a relationship with her, you need to lay it all out on the table from the get go. I’ll deal with my side of it when the time comes.”

  “So you haven’t told her then?” Michelle narrowed her eyes. Take your own advice, buster.

  “I’ll talk to her when she gets back to Connecticut. When will you see her?”

  “I’m not sure. I have some things to sort out here, with work.”

  Edward Wiley gave another heavy sigh. “May I offer you another piece of advice, Ms. Hart?”

  “Sure.”

  “Life is short. Don’t waste any more time. You’ve waited twenty-seven years for this. Go see your daughter.”

  ~

  Kevin let her in and strode through his apartment ahead of her, his face buried in the morning paper. He was always in a hurry, never able to sit still more than a moment. Michelle entered the lavish penthouse suite and glanced around.

  She’d once dreamed of living here.

  The view of Manhattan was expensive, but well worth it. The rooms were elegant and spacious, filled with fine furniture, over-priced window treatments and Persian rugs. They’d hosted many a dinner together around the long mahogany table.

  The only thing about the place that appealed to her now was the front door.

  “Is this going to take long?” Kevin refilled his coffee mug, offered her some but she shook her head.<
br />
  “I’m not sure how long it’s going to take. I told you we needed to talk, Kev. You said it was fine.”

  “It is fine.” He loosened his tie and smiled. “Sit.” She didn’t fail to notice the way he pushed up his sleeve to glance at his watch.

  Michelle sat on the black leather couch and studied her sneakers. For the past couple of days all she’d worn were jeans, T-shirts and Nikes. She’d never been more comfortable.

  “What’s going on with you, Michelle? You haven’t taken a day off in all the years I’ve known you. You look terrible. Are you having some kind of breakdown?” His pale blue eyes shot through her, his mouth twitching like he’d swallowed a piece of moldy bread.

  She stared, unbelieving. But then she smiled. “No, Kev. I’m not having a breakdown. But after what I have to tell you, you might be.”

  By the time she finished her story, he’d traded his coffee for Scotch.

  “Let me get this straight.” He paced the long room and set his crystal tumbler down on the dining table. Liquid sloshed over the sides. He blinked a couple of times and raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re telling me that you had a child with Rick Matthews twenty-seven years ago? That you gave up for adoption?”

  “Yep.” She couldn’t stop a grin at the look of horror and disbelief on his face. She’d never seen Kevin Harrison at a loss for words. It was almost enjoyable.

  “And you want to meet this girl? Talk to her, let her into your life maybe?”

  “Maybe.”

  Kevin slumped into a chair and scratched his forehead. She wracked her brain and tried to remember if he had any important meetings today, although she had no idea why she was worrying. Kevin drank hard but could sober up quicker than a flash flood could devastate a town.

  He sat in silence for a long moment. “Okay. Well, I’m shocked of course, but it’s not the end of the world. We can make it work. It’s not like I had a bastard kid or anything, God forbid. If the story gets out we’ll just spin it. People will feel sorry for you, being apart from your child all those years. You know,” he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming, “this could actually work in our favor.”

  Sudden anger ripped through her. “What do you mean?”

  Kevin went to her and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. “You know I’ve been thinking of throwing my hat in the ring for the next election. People love a good tearjerker, sweetheart. Just think of it, the two of you reunited after all these years. She can even make a few appearances with us. The press will be clamoring.”

  Michelle yanked her hands from his and put as much space as she could between them. And the really sad thing was, he wasn’t kidding. “My life is not fodder for the press, Kevin Harrison. Nor is it at your disposal to sway the public in your favor. What is wrong with you? I’ve just told you something only a few people in this world know about. The last few weeks have been a living hell for me. I’ve been in torment, Kevin, but you haven’t noticed. You’re too busy focusing on your career, aren’t you?”

  “And you should be as well!” he snapped. “It is after all, what I pay you for.”

  “Not anymore.” Michelle grabbed her pursed off the couch and marched to the door. Oh, she’d been blind, but her eyes were wide open now.

  “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here,” Kevin shouted. His voice took on the tone she recognized and warned of what might follow. Michelle swiveled and watched his face contort with anger. She’d put up with his violent outbursts too many times before, but wasn’t about to do so today. She glanced at the door, ready to run if he came toward her.

  He made an honorable effort to control himself, even managed a smile. “What about us, Michelle? I thought we had something going.”

  “So did I.” Michelle shook her head, aware that her eyes were dry. “I guess if you consider that ‘something’ as someone who looks good on your arm, someone who says and does all the right things, and maybe at some point, someone with whom you might have a marriage of convenience, then yeah, we did have something going. But I don’t want that, Kevin. Not anymore.”

  His eyes widened and he pulled a hand over his ashen face. “Then what do you want? Enlighten me.”

  In a few years she’d be celebrating her fiftieth birthday. And what did she have to show for it?

  What did she want?

  Tears came then, but they weren’t for Kevin.

  “I’m not sure what I want yet. But I know I’m not going to find it in New York.”

  “Well, you won’t find it in some hick town up in Maine either,” Kevin scoffed. “You’ll die of boredom up there.”

  “Oh, Kev.” Michelle let out a tired sigh and moved across the room to stand before him. She placed a hand on his cheek and shook her head. “I used to believe that too. But I think I might have been wrong. I pray I am.”

  “You’re really serious?”

  “Yes.” She walked toward the door again, smiling.

  “You’re throwing it all away, Michelle! You’re throwing your life away.”

  Michelle turned one last time to look at him just as his front door opened. Felicity Harrison and the kids wandered in, stopped when they saw her, and stared.

  Michelle squared her shoulders, gave a brief nod and somehow managed not to laugh at the astonished expression Kevin’s wife wore, a perfect match for her husband’s. “No need to worry, Mrs. Harrison,” she told her, shooting Kevin a last scathing glance. “I was just leaving.”

  ~

  The white house came into view as she rounded the corner, the setting sun throwing a pink hue over the wooden walls and the lake beyond. Michelle slowed her car to a crawl and eventually pulled into a vacant spot. She let out her breath and drank in the scene.

  Home. At least it used to be.

  Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  Her eyes came to rest on a large bronze sculpture across the lawn, a fair distance away from the parking bays. Two swans about to take off from the lake, the piece of art firmly anchored onto a large cement slab. A smile tickled her lips. She’d recognize that artist anywhere.

  Off to the right of the old house, two newly constructed cabins could be seen through the trees. A child’s laugh reached her ears as she stepped out onto the gravel drive. Michelle peered across the lawn to where the old swing-set used to be. It was no longer there, a newer wooden play-set having taken its place.

  Darcie stood behind the swings, pushing a tow-headed child high into the air.

  Jackson.

  He squealed in delight as she pushed him higher. Michelle allowed the unexpected rush of feeling and embraced it. She fought the urge to race across the lawn to join them, instead settled her gaze on the front door of the house.

  With faltering steps, she reached the door, gripping the leather strap of her purse. Maybe she should have called. Brought flowers.

  Not come.

  The door flung wide and her mother stepped out onto the porch, squinting through her bifocals. “Shelly?” Michelle couldn’t stop a laugh at the face Mom made as she pulled her glasses off. “Never can see a body with these things on! Oh. It is you…” Her face cracked, reddened and she took a step back, hand to her mouth.

  Michelle could only nod.

  Her mother looked older. Her hair, pulled back off her face, had gone quite gray, and many more wrinkles marked the passage of time. But her serene smile remained the same and those kind dark eyes sparkled as they always had.

  Michelle inhaled and waited a moment before she trusted speech. “I should probably have called. But I…I didn’t know…what to say.” She met her mother’s eyes and felt all the years, all the pain, slip away in an instant.

  Tears shone in her eyes as Mom came forward and grasped her hands, smiling and nodding. “No need to say anything, Shelly, girl. No need at all.” She turned and yelled into the house. “Mac! Come quick, honey. Shelly’s home!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Claire placed the last item of clothin
g into her suitcase and closed the lid. In a few hours she and James would be on their way, leaving this place and the people she’d come to love in such a short space of time. She couldn’t wait to see Melanie again, her dad and the dogs, but part of her dreaded going back to Connecticut.

  So much of her heart would remain here, at Tara’s Place.

  Male laughter filtered into the bedroom through the open window. James didn’t have much to pack and he and Landon sat out on the porch. They’d all risen early, gone to church together, and afterward Mac and Jessie laid on an enormous brunch. She didn’t know where Rick had gone after that. He’d taken to pulling disappearing acts. His time in New York seemed to have had an adverse affect on him.

  He’d been spending hours alone in his studio, even with Landon around. He took long walks with Jazz, and moped around the property with a haunted look that tore at her heart. She wasn’t sure what Michelle’s presence at the art show that night meant, but she knew the evening hadn’t ended well.

  Thanks to her.

  Claire lugged her case off the bed and carried it out to the front door, dropping it beside the other bags James had already left there. She took a long lingering look around the cabin, then stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air. It was hard to believe she’d been here so long, yet part of her felt she’d never been anywhere else.

  “How’s my gorgeous niece today?” Landon squinted at her over the top of his shades. Claire grinned and positioned herself on the swinging chair beside her husband.

  “Quit calling me that. It’s weird. You know you aren’t that much older than me. I hope you don’t expect me to call you Uncle Landon.”

  “No, don’t you dare.” He chuckled and sipped from a soda can. “At least not in public.”

  “Where’s Rick?” Claire checked her watch. James didn’t mind driving at night, but she didn’t want to get home too late.

  Landon shrugged. “Not sure where he went. Poor guy seems really torn up since talking to Michelle. I was hoping he might get some closure, but I don’t know…I don’t think he realized the extent of what she went through before now.”