Maegan had always been curious about those people who got answers to their prayers. She wondered if she had made some mistake in the way she prayed as a child. She’d tried really hard back then to convince God that it was important for her and her sisters to be together, but maybe she’d folded her hands wrong or called Him by the wrong name or something.
Maybe God just didn’t like her. Whatever the reason He hadn’t wanted to help her, she figured it was best left unspoken.
The aroma of brewed tea spread throughout the room as Maegan opened the thermos. The older woman had asked last night if she preferred coffee or tea.
“There’s no special know-how in praying to God,” Mrs. Hargrove said quietly. “He’s the one who does the work. We just talk to Him.”
“Oh.” Maegan swallowed and forgot about the tea she’d just poured. She had held out hope that she had made a mistake all those years ago that could be corrected. Now, it seemed His indifference was personal. “He didn’t do anything when I prayed to Him.”
“When was that, dear?”
“A long time ago—” Maegan stopped. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Of course, it does,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she stepped closer and put her hand on Maegan’s arm. “Especially if you still remember it.”
“I’m not likely to forget.”
Maegan started to lift her cup of tea before setting it back down and blurting out, “I don’t think He wanted me to pray.”
“God wants everyone to have the kind of relationship with Him that makes them want to visit with Him in prayer,” the older woman stated with quiet confidence.
“Visit?” Maegan was taken back. “I hadn’t planned on visiting. I just asked Him for something.”
Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “Like throwing a coin in a wishing well?”
“I suppose.”
“Well, that is the problem right there. God isn’t a wishing well.”
It was silent for a moment, then the older woman spoke. “Lilly’s in my Sunday school class this morning. I thought you might like to sit in today so you can be with her.”
Maegan forgot all about God as she thought about the invitation. This might be her only opportunity to see how her niece acted around other children. The girl had seemed so subdued yesterday and the time they’d spent together at the café had been short. Surely with her friends she would be more animated.
Still, Maegan didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. “Have you asked Clint about that? He seems to keep a close eye on Lilly. I know he’s said I can see her, but I don’t think he’d want me to just show up someplace where she is. You know, without warning or anything.”
Mrs. Hargrove smiled. “He loves his niece. But he’d agree everyone is welcome at the church.”
“I hope you’re right.”
The smile left Mrs. Hargrove’s face and she was serious. “Clint might not always come across as the most friendly man you’ll ever meet, but there’s not a man around with a better heart. He grew up hard, with a father who wasn’t much good for anything. Raised his younger brother, too. And he’d lay down his life for Lilly if he had to—”
Maegan gave a curt nod. She knew she shouldn’t say anything to anyone, but she had never been too successful at holding her tongue. Besides, she didn’t have time to be subtle. “Clint’s not really the one with custody though, is he?”
Mrs. Hargrove’s face went a little pale. “It would break Clint’s heart if you took that girl away from here.”
“But how about Lilly’s father?” Maegan pressed on. “How does he feel about being with her?”
Mrs. Hargrove pressed her lips together. “Joe is still finding his way in life. But he means well—he’s just—”
The other woman didn’t need to say any more. Maegan could write a book about parents who meant well. The foster care system was full of stories like that. She looked at Mrs. Hargrove. “I think I’ll take you up on your invitation. I’d enjoy getting to know Lilly better.”
Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “We’re going to be talking about King Solomon today. Do you have a Bible with you?”
“Me? No.” She didn’t own a Bible. After her prayer incident, she had avoided everything to do with church. Some years later, after she was on her own, she had looked up the Christmas story one December when she was in a hotel room in Milwaukee. She’d read it straight through, but hadn’t believed much of what she read. God really wouldn’t send a baby some place where the little one might be killed, would He? No wonder He hadn’t answered her prayer. Child Protective Services would be all over someone who did that today. Hopefully this King Solomon would know better than to endanger a baby.
“I’ll be happy to lend you one of my Bibles for the day then,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “It helps to read the story for yourself.”
Maegan was going to take the older woman’s word for it. She didn’t have time to start reading the Bible. She had to figure out what Lilly’s future should be. One thing she knew for sure, she wasn’t going to soften and say that Joe Parker was suited to being a parent for her niece unless she knew it was one hundred percent true.
Now that she had met Lilly, she wanted to make sure the girl had the best life possible. Maegan hadn’t found the perfect family for herself when she was growing up, but she’d find it for Lilly if she had to. It was one of the reasons she’d taken the loans to become a lawyer. She wanted to be able to help her family, financially and in other ways, and she’d realized the law helped her to do that.
Clint felt like he’d been squeezed into the shape of a pretzel and then stomped upon until he was low to the ground. He was sitting on a child’s wooden chair in the church basement. Small square windows lined the top of the concrete room and a row of crayon pictures of Moses parting the Red Sea were taped midway between the windows and the gray speckled linoleum floor. Mrs. Hargrove’s Sunday school class was supposed to be for eight-and nine-year-olds, but the woman was so beloved there were kids as old as fifteen mixed in with the regular attendees. Clint’s only excuse for being there was that Mrs. Hargrove had called and told him Maegan was going to sit in for the class.
He wasn’t surprised the woman would take an opportunity like this to be with Lilly, but he was astonished Mrs. Hargrove had called. She was usually too busy before church to do anything. And, when he got off the phone, he realized she had been trying to tell him something without saying it directly.
He figured Mrs. Hargrove didn’t have any hard and cold facts or she would have told him up front what she was thinking. But, if she was uneasy about Maegan being in the class, Clint wasn’t going to ignore her intuition. Mrs. Hargrove was the wisest person he knew. So he went to the children’s class when he got to the church instead of staying upstairs with the adults.
Lilly hadn’t seemed to care if he was there or not.
He glanced across the table and saw Maegan huddled next to the girl. He studied the woman even though he didn’t know what he was looking for. She looked more like a lawyer today than she had yesterday. She wore a maroon pantsuit with a black scarf tied around her neck. She wore no jewelry. Her skin was paler than it had been yesterday, but probably only because the light down here was mostly from the florescent bulbs overhead and they tended to bleach the color out of everything. Maegan was serious though, no question about it.
And then something in him shifted and he saw the subtle beauty of her face. She was leaning over to look at something Lilly had in her hand and he saw the woman’s neck had the sculpted sweep of a Greek goddess statue. All cool ivory. Her lips were tilted up at the corners in a tiny smile that would rival the Mona Lisa’s. He hadn’t noticed before that she was a work of art. He pulled his gaze away from her before someone caught him staring. He had no business being taken with her.
There wasn’t a parade of single women going through Dry Creek, but there were enough that, even if he decided he wanted to date, he didn’t need to be attracted to this woman. When he saw her, he should see a big red X in
front of his eyes. She would be trouble even without Lilly in the picture. Not that it made any difference what he thought. He didn’t have a chance with her in the romance department. She wanted to see Lilly and that’s why she was here.
Suddenly, he realized Maegan hadn’t looked him in the eyes this morning. Not once. Yesterday, her eyes had alternately stormed at him and accused him. Today she wasn’t letting him in.
He probably should be worried, but it was hard to think that someone in a child’s chair was a serious threat to his family. And, he had to admit she was being a good sport about everything. She had apparently been well pleased with her room over Mrs. Hargrove’s garage. It looked like she wasn’t as much like his ex-fiancée as he had thought.
He should have known Maegan was different after he sat down last night and reread those papers she had sent—the ones that were copies of the foster care records. He hadn’t bothered to put the pieces together earlier, but last night he thought about what the notations on the pages meant. Family after family had passed over Maegan for adoption. He’d seen the report of a doctor’s visit. She had the same foot problem as Lilly. The records said she was stubborn and refused to make herself suitable for adoption. She had told one social worker she was waiting for the right family and then refused to explain what she had meant. For another, she refused to stand still so her limp would not be noticed. Clint had felt like cheering for her as he sat there.
She clearly gave as good as she got even back then.
Just knowing those things about her was changing his opinion of her. He no longer thought of her as some distant relative who might try to interfere with Lilly’s life. The truth was he was starting to like Maegan. And to respect her. And to wish there was some way he could give her what she wanted.
Looking at her and Lilly together softened him. They looked enough alike to be mother and daughter. It wasn’t so much that their coloring was the same or anything to do with their bone structure. It was their movements and the angle at which they held their heads that was the same. What if they were meant to be together? Not full-time, of course. Lilly belonged on the ranch with him. But maybe Maegan could visit over the holidays. Or maybe Lilly could fly to Chicago for a couple of weeks in the summer to be with Maegan. People worked these things out, he told himself. He had no reason to worry.
Chapter Three
The class was making gold crowns for King Solomon so Maegan was helping Lilly cut the triangles she needed to put together the cardboard headpiece. Mrs. Hargrove was talking about King Solomon at the same time and Maegan was partially listening to her as she made cuts with the scissors. She didn’t miss the fact that two women had come to the king both claiming they were the rightful mother of the same child. She supposed Mrs. Hargrove was going to give some platitudes that would speak to her and Clint.
But that’s not what happened. Mrs. Hargrove reported that King Solomon suggested cutting the child in half. With a sword or knife or something awful.
“That’s outrageous,” Maegan protested softly as soon as she recovered from the shock of what the man had proposed thousands of years ago. She was vaguely aware that the children had all turned to look at her with wide eyes. “I mean, no one would do that today. And, if they did, the state’s child custody services would stop them. Surely, even back then, they had some laws. Where were all those judges and prophets people talk about?”
Maegan ended up looking across the table toward Clint for help. She didn’t know why she turned to him. He was tall and strong, but there was nothing he could do about what had happened so long ago. She didn’t expect him to respond to her, but he reached across the table and put his hand over hers. Her pride told her she should move her hand, but his large calloused hand covering hers made her feel secure.
“No one hurt the child,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
Maegan felt the flush creep up her neck. She didn’t like feeling foolish. But when she looked up into Clint’s eyes she didn’t see any hint that he thought she’d been silly. If anything, he looked concerned. It was the first time she’d looked at him and found this kind of caring.
“I didn’t know,” Maegan finally whispered back.
The silence around them suddenly made her realize that they had an audience. A dozen children were staring at them. Even Lilly’s eyes were wide. Maegan looked down the table at Mrs. Hargrove. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the older woman said and smiled. She looked very pleased. “Sometimes when I tell one of these stories, it’s like it’s happening right in front of me, too. Time doesn’t seem to matter. God likes us to be carried away as we hear about what happened.”
The explanation seemed to make the children relax.
“They’re holding hands,” one little girl finally said with a giggle as she pointed at where Clint’s hands covered Maegan’s. “And in Sunday school.”
“That’s perfectly all right,” Mrs. Hargrove said in a voice that suddenly made it normal. “We hold hands sometimes, too, when we pray.”
“Not like that,” the girl continued. “My mother says if you hold a boy’s hand that means you like him.”
“Well, we’re supposed to like everyone, aren’t we?” Mrs. Hargrove told the girl gently. “And since you seem to be interested in boyfriends, can you guess how many wives King Solomon had? It’s more than you’d think.”
The children were distracted and Maegan slipped her hand out from under Clint’s. It wasn’t just that it gave the children the wrong idea. She wanted to be sure she didn’t have the wrong idea, either. She and Clint were just—well, not friends. Maybe one could say they were friendly. For the moment anyway.
Mrs. Hargrove finished the story and Maegan noted to herself that she didn’t understand King Solomon or God or men in general.
“What’s wrong?” Clint asked quietly. As everyone had been finishing up their crowns, he had walked around the table so he was sitting next to her and Lilly.
“I picked the wrong mother,” she said.
Clint raised an eyebrow in question.
Maegan looked at him and saw that he seemed to care what she thought so she told him. “It’s just that everyone wants the real mother to have her baby back. That’s okay. But what about the other woman? Maybe she couldn’t have a baby of her own. Maybe she prayed to God to make her a mother. Maybe no one even listened to her when she said she wanted a family. Maybe God didn’t answer her prayer.”
Maegan knew her face was flushed. But she couldn’t help it. She was serious. “Maybe she felt she had no other choice.”
Clint looked at her without saying anything for a while. The children were putting away their scissors and colored paper. Lilly had stood up and gone over to the bin to return some markers with two of the other girls. Mrs. Hargrove was at the end of the table gathering up papers. The sounds of children moving were all around them.
Maegan felt an urge to go return something to a box somewhere, too. She felt uncomfortable as Clint kept looking at her. Finally, she lowered her eyes to the floor.
“You’re going to ask for full custody of Lilly, aren’t you?” Clint asked, his voice tightly controlled.
Maegan looked over at him. He sat in the little chair and his shoulders were hunched over. He had a sprinkling of gold glitter on his hair and a streak of blue marker on his face. He’d left his Stetson on the top shelf and his sleeve had a wet stain on it where one of the boys had spilled his fruit juice. He’d clearly enjoyed making the crowns. No doubt he deserved to be a father, too.
She breathed out and felt miserable. “I don’t know. I—”
Clint held up his hand as Lilly walked back toward them. “We’ll talk later.”
Maegan nodded as Lilly came over and stood in front of her.
“I put the scissors away,” the girl announced proudly.
“That’s good,” Maegan murmured as she put her hand on the girl’s arm.
Lilly gave her a tentative smile that was sweet and shy. “My mama always tol
d me to put the scissors away when I was done.”
Maegan blinked and forced herself to stay calm. “You must miss your mama.”
Lilly nodded and gave Maegan a quick hug before turning away and walking back to join the other children.
Maegan watched her go before she looked over at Clint. His face had become drawn and grim.
“She’s had enough loss in her life,” Maegan said quietly. “I don’t intend to try and take your place with her.”
“Maybe you should,” Clint said. “She means the world to me, but maybe you should be the one to raise her.”
Then he stood up and walked right out of the room.
Maegan wished she could call him back, but she didn’t know what she could say. Was he really suggesting that she should be Lilly’s parent? She looked down at her folded hands as she listened to the sounds of his boots hitting the stairs as he made his way to the top.
When she looked up, all of the children had left the room. It was only her and Mrs. Hargrove sitting at the table.
“He doesn’t know me very well.” Maegan looked straight ahead at the older woman. It was clear that Mrs. Hargrove had heard what Clint had said. “I’m not sure I’d be a very good mother. I wouldn’t know anything about raising a child. She’s probably better off with Clint. I mean, she clearly adores her father. His brother. And when would she see Joe if she was in Chicago? And Clint would do anything for her.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s eyes softened as Maegan spoke. “It’s in your heart though, isn’t it? The desire to mother Lilly?”
Maegan nodded. “Of course. She’s special. I want her to have the best. Much better than I ever had.”
“So does Clint,” the older woman said.
With that, Mrs. Hargrove stood up and started walking toward the stairs. “I suggest we all pray about it.”
Maegan grunted as she followed the other woman toward the stairs.
Small-Town Moms Page 3
