Leah watched the timer on the oven tick off the seconds until the pan of meatballs was done.
Her friends were all in the living room, but she needed a few moments to herself. The day hadn’t gotten any better after she’d picked Jackson up from school. She’d had no choice but to bring him to work with her, since she had to finish getting things ready for tomorrow’s wedding. She’d tried to give him a job peeling carrots, but the moment she’d turned her back, he’d snuck off to a corner of the room, where he sat brooding the rest of the afternoon. She hadn’t had time―or energy, frankly―to get him to do what she’d told him to do.
She’d hoped things might be better once he was surrounded by her friends and family tonight. But with each introduction, he’d grown more withdrawn, refusing to do anything but offer a limp handshake. He hadn’t so much as said hello to anyone.
Last she saw, he was huddled in a chair, staring at the floor and refusing to answer even the simplest questions her friends asked.
She rolled her shoulders now, trying to ease the tension that had been building there all day. She was exhausted, frustrated, and much as she hated to admit it, embarrassed. When she’d told her friends she wanted to be a foster mother, they’d all been so supportive. They’d assured her she’d be a wonderful mother, that she’d make such a difference in a kid’s life.
And now here she was, not even two days into fostering, and she was floundering big time.
Scratch that. She wasn’t floundering. She was sinking. Fast.
“You need any help in here?” Her sister-in-law’s voice nearly made Leah jump onto the countertop.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jade offered a sympathetic look. “Everything okay?”
Leah nodded. “Just thinking.”
“About Jackson?”
Leah blew out a long breath. “Yeah. How’d you guess?”
“Give it time.” Jade lifted a stack of plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.
“I don’t know how to get through to him.” Leah turned off the oven timer as it flipped to zero. “I know there has to be something I can do. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”
“You can pray about it,” Jade prompted, and Leah marveled once again at the transformation in her sister-in-law. A year and a half ago, she would have scoffed if anyone suggested she pray―now she was the one offering that advice.
Still, it wasn’t as if Leah hadn’t thought of that. And she had prayed. Probably more than she ever had in her life. But it seemed like this was going to be one more prayer God answered with no.
She moved to the living room to let the others know dinner was ready. Her eyes went to Jackson, still slouched in his chair, not acknowledging the people who surrounded him. Beyond him, she caught the flash of lights out the window as a pizza delivery car pulled into the neighbor’s driveway.
“Dinner time.” She directed a pointed look at Jackson. “Why don’t you lead the way, since you’re our guest of honor tonight?”
But Jackson shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
That had to be a lie. He’d resisted eating the peanut butter and jelly she’d packed him for lunch until he thought she wasn’t watching, then devoured it in about three bites. Was it just another act of defiance, his refusing to eat when she told him to? Or was there more to it than that?
Either way, he obviously needed food.
She tried to keep the frustration from creeping into her voice. “Jackson, you have to―”
But someone laid a gentle hand on her arm, and she glanced over to find Jade stepping past her into the living room, Hope on her hip. “Jackson, if you’re not hungry, could you do me a favor and watch Hope while I get some food? I am absolutely starving, and she’s at the age where she tries to knock everything off my plate.”
“I’m not sure―” Leah jumped in. She appreciated what her sister-in-law was doing, but maybe putting the boy who’d been suspended for punching a kid in charge of a baby wasn’t the best idea.
Jade shot her a look and set Hope on the floor by Jackson’s feet, scattering a few toys around her. “She shouldn’t be any trouble, but let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Jackson blinked at Jade, his expression shifting from opposition to something Leah hadn’t seen on him before―a flicker of interest.
With a pat of Hope’s head, Jade straightened and strode through the living room toward the kitchen, pulling Leah behind her.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Leah kept her voice low so Jackson wouldn’t hear her. “I told you about what happened at school.”
“Trust me. Jackson’s the one who better watch out. That little girl can soften even the hardest heart.”
“What little girl?” Leah’s brother Dan asked, dropping a kiss on his wife’s cheek.
“Your daughter.” Jade nudged him, and Leah was sure no father had ever lit up with a prouder grin.
The heaviness that had been dragging at Leah’s heart since the car ride home with Jackson eased a little. Hope couldn’t be more Dan’s daughter if she had been his biological child. The same would be true of her and Jackson one day. It was like Jade had said, she had to give it time.
She joined the others in prayer, then dug into her own plate of meatballs, letting the sound of her friends’ conversations soothe her frayed nerves. This was exactly what she needed―to be surrounded by all the people she loved best in the world.
“Leah, you have to come here.” Jade’s low, urgent tone carried to Leah from the opening to the living room as she was about to bite into one of the cupcakes Peyton had brought.
Appetite vanishing, Leah shoved her chair back and rushed to Jade’s side. “What’s wrong?”
But Jade didn’t look horrified, she looked . . . awed.
Leah peered around Jade, and her breath caught. Was she seeing this right?
Jackson had slid out of the chair onto the floor, and Hope had crawled over to his side. Jackson was holding a rattle in one hand, shaking it gently as he held it out to her. But more amazing than all of that was his face―it was the first time Leah had seen him smile.
It made him seem both younger and older, vulnerable and responsible all at once.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“I told you Hope could soften any heart,” Jade whispered.
Chapter 8
The night air cut at Austin’s lungs, but he drew in a deep breath, leaning his head against the back of the Adirondack chair he’d pulled off the deck and into the middle of the yard.
It was surreal, how like the Afghan night this was and yet how different. It had gotten this cold in the Afghan mountains, but the smells here were different. Less acrid smoke from the villagers’ sawdust stoves, more pine trees and lake breeze.
It was nowhere near as dark here either. Although he’d turned off most of the lights in his house, warm patches of yellow light spilled from Leah’s house next door onto his lawn.
The strangest part was that there was no danger here. He was sitting in the middle of a backyard, completely safe. While his brother faced who knew what on the other side of the world.
He flexed his left leg, wincing as needles stabbed through his nonexistent foot. The phantom pains weren’t as bad as they’d been in the beginning, but they were still there, even when he wore his prosthetic. Still hampering his recovery.
He gritted his teeth and forced his mind off the pain. He was getting stronger. He knew he was.
He only hoped it was strong enough to prove he was fit to return to combat. He didn’t have any desire to be stuck behind a desk somewhere. Or worse, retired from service entirely.
For the past fourteen years, the army had been his life.
Without it, he wasn’t sure he knew who he was.
A clatter from next door pulled his eyes toward Leah’s yard as she stepped out her back door, feet clad in boots this time instead of bunny slippers.
He meant to pretend he didn’t see her, but instead his
hand rose into a wave.
Leah did a double-take, then marched across her yard until she was standing in front of him. “What are you doing out here?”
Austin peered up at her. “Sitting.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “I see that. I guess I should ask why you’re sitting in the middle of your yard in hardly any clothes when it’s like twenty degrees out here.”
Austin snorted. Hardly any clothes? He was wearing his warmest fleece sweatshirt. The same one he’d worn so many nights in the mountains. And he’d never once gotten cold in it. “I’m good. What are you doing out here in clothes?”
Even in the dark, Austin could have sworn that Leah’s cheeks flushed, and he chalked up a point for himself.
“I only wear my pajamas outside when I have to stop some lunatic neighbor from waking my kid. When I come out to get wood for my fireplace, I tend to dress more appropriately for the weather.”
“How are things going?” Austin didn’t know why he asked. He certainly hadn’t planned to. And he didn’t want to know the answer, not really. But when he pictured how defeated she’d looked earlier, he couldn’t help it.
“A tiny bit better actually.” Leah lifted her arms and drew her long hair into a ponytail, then let it fall. “I think we may have just had a breakthrough. He’s in there playing with my baby niece. She has him wrapped around her finger already.” The lightness in Leah’s tone completely transformed her.
“So are you going to sit out here all night, or do you want to come meet some people?” Leah gestured toward her house.
If those were the two choices, he’d take sit out here all night. “No thanks, I―”
“You might as well say yes because I’m going to stand here and bug you until you do.” Leah crossed her arms in front of her. “Plus, we have some food left. Meatballs. And cupcakes. I know all you’ve had for the past two days is takeout pizza.”
So she was bossy and nosy. Good to know.
“I really should―”
“Come get some food? Yep.” Leah held out a hand as if to help him up.
He contemplated it. He wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her to leave him alone, he was just fine on his own, thank you very much. But then he remembered the happy people he’d seen walking into her house earlier. The way they’d talked and laughed and joked together. The tightness in his chest that hadn’t eased since then.
“Come on,” Leah wheedled again. “I need some help carrying in firewood.”
“Fine.” He gave a resigned sigh. “But only to help with the firewood.”
“Yay.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.
He eyed her hand still stretched toward him but braced his hands against the arms of the chair to push himself upright.
An involuntary groan escaped him as he took a step.
Leah threw a concerned look over her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yep.” He tried to walk normally, ignoring the protest of his stiff leg muscles. “Just a little sore from my run this morning.”
“Do you run a lot?”
It was an innocent enough question. She couldn’t possibly know how fraught answering it would be for him.
“I used to,” he answered finally. “I’m trying to get back into it.”
She didn’t seem to find anything strange about his answer. “My brother’s a runner too. I bet he’d love to run with you.”
Austin stared at her. Did she always go making plans for complete strangers?
They each loaded their arms with logs, then he followed Leah toward her back door.
“I guess we didn’t think this through.” Leah looked from her own full arms to his. With her elbow, she pounded on the door. “Hopefully someone will hear that. They’re kind of loud in there.”
But it was only a few seconds before someone opened the door.
“Thanks, Peyton.” Leah smiled at the woman who held the door, then slid in past her. Austin followed Leah, trying to ignore the curious look the other woman gave him.
He kept his head down as he trailed Leah through the kitchen and dining room to the living room. People covered nearly every conceivable seating area, and Austin’s eyes darted to the door. He forced himself to take a deep breath. As soon as he dropped this load of wood, he could get out of here. A couple of guys had sprung to their feet and were unloading the wood from Leah’s arms. One started to grab logs off Austin’s pile too.
“You should have told us you needed wood, Leah. We would have gotten it,” one of the guys scolded.
“It’s fine. I had a helper.” As she passed the last piece of wood off, Leah gestured to Austin. “Everyone, this is Austin.” She turned to him. “Ready for this?”
Before he could figure out what he was supposed to be ready for, she launched into rapid-fire introductions. “That’s Sophie and Spencer over there, with their twins Rylan and Aubrey.” She pointed to a couple seated on the floor, their legs extended to keep two crawling babies on the far side of the room. Both adults waved at him.
“And that’s Peyton and Jared on the couch and Nate and Violet snuggled on that chair together. Ethan and Ariana on the love seat, and that’s their little girl Joy eating a book.” Everyone laughed as Ariana tugged the paper out of her daughter’s mouth.
But Leah was still going. “Next to you is Tyler, and those are his twins running around. He’s Spencer’s brother.” She leaned closer. “Twins run in their family.”
“Someone could have told me that before I married into the family,” Sophie called as she picked up one of her little ones to deliver a raspberry to her tummy.
“On the hearth here are Emma and Grace,” Leah continued. “And over by the window is my brother Dan and his wife Jade.”
Dan stepped around the others and held out a hand. Austin wiped his own hand subtly on his sweatpants before returning the gesture.
“And that’s their daughter Hope on the floor next to Jackson. My―” She faltered, and Austin’s eyes went to her. She took a quick breath, then said, “My foster son.”
It was the first time Austin had seen the boy up close, and his heart jumped.
Dark hair. Bumpy nose.
Isaad?
But then he blinked, and the kid looked up, his expression surly.
Not Isaad.
His heart plummeted.
“So where’d you two meet?” The question came from the woman Leah had introduced as her sister-in-law.
Austin heard the undertone in her voice and nearly groaned. He never should have agreed to come inside. Not only was this place way too crowded for comfort. Not only was there a kid who looked disconcertingly like Isaad. But now he’d given Leah’s friends―and probably Leah herself―the impression he was interested in her.
“We didn’t meet,” Leah jumped in defensively, a hand lifting to her hip as she shot her sister-in-law a look.
Okay, so maybe Leah, at least, hadn’t gotten the wrong impression. That was a relief.
“So you brought a stranger over?” Dan sounded like he was only partially teasing.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the blonde woman on the couch chimed in. If he remembered correctly―which was unlikely―that one was Peyton. “Remember that time she brought home that hitchhiker and insisted on making him a warm meal before―”
“All right. All right.” Leah held up her hands. “I promise Austin isn’t a hitchhiker. He’s renting Miranda’s house for a while.” She turned to him. “How long did you say?”
He shrugged. He had no idea. But if his physical went well, not long.
“His family was originally from Hope Springs. Hart. Sound familiar to anyone?”
They all shook their heads, but Dan stepped forward. “I can check through old church records. Chances are, if they lived in Hope Springs, they went to Hope Church.”
Austin gave a noncommittal nod. Dan was probably right, since his mother had been a committed Christian and had raised him and his brother in the church. But whereas Chad remained a believer, Aus
tin had long since come to his senses. Anyone who could still believe in God after the things they’d seen in battle was crazier than him.
“Come on.” Leah tilted her head toward the dining room. “I promised you food. And food you’ll get.”
She smiled at him, and he tried to convince himself it didn’t warm him. That was just the fire that one of the guys now had roaring in the fireplace.
Nothing else.
Chapter 9
“We still need those tartlets,” Leah called across the wedding hall’s kitchen to her assistant Sam.
“On it.” Sam wiped her hands on the front of her already streaked apron and held up her mixing bowl.
Leah studied the schedule she’d laid out for the day. So far, there had been no major delays, and things were running smoothly. Which was something of a miracle, considering that her brain wasn’t all here.
She was too busy worrying about her decision to leave Jackson home alone while she catered this wedding. She’d debated bringing him with her, but after the way he’d flourished with Hope last night, she hoped that perhaps giving him a little more responsibility and showing him some trust would improve things between them.
But that didn’t mean she was certain about it. At all.
If only she could call to check on him, she’d feel better. But he didn’t have a phone. She’d have to add that to the list of things she needed to get him, so they could stay in touch in situations like this.
Maybe she should call one of her friends and ask them to swing by the house. Or would that be too much like spying on him? Would he take that as a sign she didn’t trust him?
She let out an exasperated breath and returned to her list. Why had no one warned her this parenting thing would be so hard? She was so used to feeling certain about everything, used to making snap decisions and not thinking twice about them. But now, she was questioning everything, second guessing herself at every turn. Was this what parenting was going to be like? For the rest of her life?
Okay, mushrooms. She needed to prepare the mushrooms. She pulled the carton out of the refrigerator.
Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Page 5
