by Lois Richer
“Well, in Darla’s case, David’s fiancées might have had a point,” Connie said, her voice quiet.
“Oh?” Susannah frowned. “Why?”
“Darla has had—” Connie paused “—difficulty adjusting to her world since the accident.”
“But surely she goes to a program of some sort?” Susannah asked.
“She does. The problem is Darla. She has trouble working with anyone. Her temper gets very bad. I’m sure that’s what happened with my lamp.” Connie inclined her head toward the shattered glass.
“When I came to, she was yelling.” Susannah frowned. “But she didn’t act up when I was speaking with her. She was sweet and quite charming.”
“That’s the way she is, until someone doesn’t do as she wants. Then she balks and makes a scene. It’s part of her brain injury. She’s had a number of workers try to teach her stronger self-control.” Connie made a face. “With little success, so far. They keep quitting.”
“Well, maybe David hasn’t found the right people to work with her,” Susannah said. “He seemed kind of frustrated by her.”
“Maybe he is,” Connie agreed, “but he devotes himself to his sister.”
“To the exclusion of everything else?” Was that why he looked so tired?
“Yes, sometimes. David is convinced it’s his duty to his parents to ensure Darla’s happiness, even if he has to sacrifice his own.” Connie pulled a vacuum hose from a cupboard and cleaned up the shards of glass before tucking the lampshade into a closet.
“Aren’t you mad about the lamp?” Susannah asked curiously.
“It was just a thing.” Connie loaded the used dishes onto the tray. “People are more important than things. Come.”
Connie opened a door that led to a staircase. Susannah followed her, curious to see the rest of this lovely house.
“We’ll sneak up to your room this way.” Connie shot her a conspiratorial grin.
Their footsteps were muffled by thickly carpeted stairs. Connie grasped her hand and led her to a beautiful room tucked under the eaves.
“This used to be my room,” she said. Her face reflected a flurry of emotions as she sank onto the window seat. “I spent a lot of time right here, praying.”
“Are you happy, Connie?” Susannah asked, sitting beside her. “Truly?”
“Happier than I ever imagined I’d be.” Connie hugged her. “You will be, too, Suze. But you have to give God time to work things out for you. You have to have faith that He has great things in store for your future.”
“That’s hard, given my past,” Susannah muttered.
“That’s when it’s most important to read your Bible and pray,” Connie murmured. “You have a lot of decisions to make. But you don’t have to rush. You can stay right here, get well and figure things out in your own time.”
“Is it hard—being a mother?” The question slipped out in spite of her determination not to ask.
But the prospect of motherhood scared her silly.
“You’re worried about the baby, aren’t you, Suze. Why?” Connie moved to sit on the bed, patting the space beside her. When Susannah sat down, she hugged her close. “What’s really bothering you?”
“My role model for motherhood wasn’t exactly nurturing. Nothing mattered to my mother more than her next drink.” She heard the resentment in her own voice but couldn’t control it. “Nothing.”
“Suze, honey, you can’t hold on to the bitterness.”
“Can’t I?” Susannah opened her bag and pulled out her wallet. She flipped it to two pictures nestled inside. “They’re dead, Connie. Because of me.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Susannah nodded. “I should have been there.”
“Then you would have died, too.” Connie gripped her hand.
“But if only I hadn’t chosen—”
“The fire wasn’t your fault, Susannah.” Connie’s soft voice hardened. “No matter what your mother said when you were a kid.”
Susannah had gone round and round this argument in her head for years. But nothing erased the little voice of blame in the back of her brain. Her hand rested for an instant on her stomach.
“A new life,” Connie murmured. “Hard to wrap your mind around it?”
“Very,” Susannah agreed with a grimace. “Even harder to imagine coping.”
“You’ll do fine,” Connie assured her.
“It’s easy for you to say that. You spent all those years in our foster home caring for everybody else. I don’t know anything about caring for a baby, except that you need to feed it and change it.” Just saying that made Susannah feel helpless. “What if it gets sick?”
“Then you’ll get help.” Connie patted her shoulder. “One thing I’ve learned with Silver is that there are no easy answers, no recipe you can follow. You do your best, pray really hard and have faith that God will answer. And He does. David told me that when he first hired me.”
“Really?” So David Foster was a man of faith, too.
“David is one of the good guys. My husband is another. So is their friend Jared.” Connie smiled with pride. “They’re the kind of men who do the right thing, no matter what. Integrity. They have it in spades.”
Susannah couldn’t dislodge the image of the tall dark-haired man with the slow spreading grin that started with a slight lift at the corners of his mouth, followed by a gradual widening until it reached his toffee eyes. David Foster had the kind of smile that took forever to get where it was going, but once it got there, it took your breath.
“A lawyer with integrity,” she mused. “How novel.”
Connie drew back the quilt and patted a pillow. “Come on, into bed. Your eyelids are drooping. Rest. We’ll talk again whenever you’re ready.”
“Did I say thank you?” Tears swelled Susannah’s throat.
“What are sisters for?” Connie hugged her. “Don’t worry about anything, Suze. You’re here now. Relax. In due time you can start planning for the future. Just remember—you’re not alone.”
A moment later she was gone, the door whispering closed behind her. Susannah stood up, tiredness washing over her. Then she spied the bathroom door.
Five minutes later she was up to her neck in bubbles in a huge tub, enjoying the relaxing lavender fragrance as jets pulsed water over her weary flesh.
Are You really watching out for me, God?
She thought over the past months and the tumble from joy to despair that she’d experienced. Unbidden, thoughts of David’s troubles rose. How difficult to lose both your parents, and then the sister you’d known and loved. They had that in common—loss.
Susannah hadn’t said anything to Darla or Connie, but when David had carried her into the house, she had come to, for a second. And in that moment, she had felt like Sleeping Beauty. Awakening to a whole new perspective on life.
Which was really stupid. She didn’t want anything to do with love. Certainly not the romantic fairy-tale kind—that only led to disappointment and pain.
Susannah Wells had never had a fairy-tale life and she doubted it was about to start now, just because a nice man and his sister had cared for her. She didn’t deserve a picture-perfect life.
And you won’t have one. You’re pregnant, Susannah. David Foster won’t give you a second look.
Not that she wanted him to. Depend on yourself. She’d learned that lesson very well a long time ago.
Wearied by all the questions that had no answers, Susannah rose, drained the tub and prepared for bed. But when she finally climbed in between the sheets, she felt wide awake. She pulled open the drawer of the nightstand to search for something to read. A Bible lay there.
She picked it up with no idea of where to start reading. She let it fall open on the bed. Isaiah 43.
I, I am the One who forgives all your sins, for My sake, I will not remember your sins.
God forgave her? That’s what Connie had said. But maybe it was only an accident that she was reading these words. Susannah
closed the Bible, let it fall open again.
2 Corinthians.
God is the Father who is full of mercy and all comfort. He comforts us every time we have trouble, so when others have trouble, we can comfort them with the same comfort God gives us.
So many times she’d asked herself, where is God? According to this, He was right here, comforting her with Connie’s house. He was the father who didn’t walk out when life got rough.
A flicker of hope burst into flame inside Susannah’s heart.
Maybe God could forgive the stupid choices she’d made. Maybe…but she doubted it. She wasn’t like Connie—good and smart and worth saving.
God had let her get duped by Nick. Why?
Because she wasn’t worth loving. Her whole life was proof of that.
Susannah let her tears flow far into the night.
Chapter Three
David screeched to a halt in front of his home and jumped out of the car.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Foster. I only went to get Darla a drink because she said she was thirsty. When I came back, she was gone.” The caregiver wrung her hands. “I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not in the house or the yard.”
“Okay. Okay.” He forced his brain to focus. “Show me what she was doing.”
“Here.”
He studied the reams of pictures Darla had drawn. Nothing made sense to him.
“What were you talking about?” he asked.
“Actually I was reading.”
“Reading what?” Suspicions rose. “Sleeping Beauty. From that big book she likes so much.” The woman pointed. “I tried to read something else, but she wouldn’t listen.
Two weeks of Darla nagging him to visit Connie’s.
Suddenly it all made sense to David.
“Wait here a moment, would you please?” He picked up the phone and dialed, chagrined when Susannah Wells answered. “This is David Foster. By chance, did Darla walk over there?”
“Connie is just now calling your office,” Susannah explained. “We were having lunch by the pool when Darla showed up. She was quite upset. Connie didn’t want to make it worse so she included her in our lunch. Not that you need to worry,” she added. “Why’s that?”
“Darla calmed down immediately once we got her busy. Connie has tons of puzzles. Darla seems fascinated by them, too.”
Puzzles? Since when?
“I’ll be over in a few minutes to pick her up,” he said. “I’m sorry she bothered you.”
“Darla’s no bother at all,” Susannah said. She paused, then spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “It would be nice if she could stay for a while, though, if that won’t upset your plans.”
Ha! David’s plans had gone on hold the moment he’d received the call.
“I’m afraid I’ve been at loose ends, taking up too much of Connie’s time,” Susannah explained. “Having Darla here would free Connie to attend to her own issues. She wouldn’t have to keep babysitting me.”
“You’re feeling better?” Not that he wanted to know. He’d spent hours shoving the memory of Susannah’s face out of his brain.
“Oh, yes. Much recovered.” She chuckled. “Especially with Darla here. She’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
“Mmm.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Well, I’ll come and get her out of your hair.”
“Really, it’s not— Oh, here’s Connie.”
“David?” Connie sounded breathless.
“Sorry for the invasion,” he apologized.
“Invasion? Darla’s like a refreshing breeze off the mountains. Which, given today’s heat, I could use. This is not autumn in Tucson as I’ve known it.” She chuckled.
“Hang around, you’ll get used to it.” He swallowed. “Connie—”
She cut him off.
“David, I was thinking—” He could almost hear the wheels grinding in Connie’s head. “Couldn’t Darla stay? Susannah and I are enjoying the visit as much as she. In fact, I’ve just had the most wonderful idea.”
“Oh?” He glanced at his watch, not really listening to Connie’s plan. Ten minutes before his next client arrived in his office. Could he get back in ten minutes?
“…Susannah would be great at it. They really connect.”
“I’m sorry, Connie,” he interrupted. “What did you say?”
“I said, why don’t you ask Susannah about caring for Darla after school? She has her certification as a special care aide. And she’s very level-headed. They get along so well. I’m sure Darla would love it.”
“I don’t think a pregnant woman—”
“Don’t be silly. This is October and Susannah’s not due until Easter. I think it would be perfect,” Connie enthused. She lowered her voice. “Susannah really needs a job, David. Working with Darla is taxing but it would only be for a few hours a day and it would keep her mind occupied. The hours Darla spends at her school would also give Susannah some time on her own.”
David hated the whole idea. He didn’t want a pregnant woman in his employ, someone else to be responsible for. Especially someone he was faintly attracted to.
Faintly?
David shut off the mocking laughter in his head and refocused. His sister had to have someone, and clearly the woman the agency had sent over wasn’t going to work out. Again.
“Will you consider it?” Connie asked. “Please?”
“I can’t decide this right now. I left the office in a rush and I’ve got an urgent appointment in a few minutes.” David thought for a moment. “Could Darla stay there for the afternoon, just till I get home? Then I’m going to have to talk to her. This can’t happen again.”
“I’ll make sure she stays. You go do your work. We’ll be fine,” Connie insisted. “But promise me you’ll think about my suggestion. It would be so perfect.”
“Connie, Darla is bigger than Susannah. And stronger, judging by what I saw. She could hurt your friend. Not intentionally, but she does lash out.”
“But that’s the funny thing. She hasn’t with Susannah. Maybe because of the baby, I don’t know.” Connie sighed. “I know how you like to dot all the i’s, David. Go back to your office. Think on it. We’ll be here.”
“Thanks. You’re a good friend, Connie.” David hung up and wasted a few minutes musing on the idea.
“Am I fired?”
He blinked and saw the helper he’d hired staring at him.
“Because if I’m not, I quit. I can’t do this. She’s—violent.”
“She just gets a little frustrated. I’m sorry if Darla scared you. Here.” He handed her a wad of money. “That should cover your expenses. Thanks a lot.”
By the time David returned to his office, his father’s former client was antsy and David had his work cut out assuring the high-profile man that his case wouldn’t suffer just because his father wasn’t handling it. David worked steadily until he suddenly noticed the office was quiet and the clock said ten to six.
He was so far behind he could have used another three hours to catch up. But no way was he going to add to Connie’s responsibilities by shirking his. Traffic was backed up and by the time he arrived on their street the sun had long since dipped below the craggy red Rincon Mountain tips.
“I’m so sorry,” he began as the door opened. He stopped. Susannah. “Hello.” She looked infinitely better than she had last time. In fact, she glowed.
“Hello, yourself.” She didn’t smile. “We’re about to sit down to dinner.”
“Then I won’t bother you.” He could feel the ice in her voice. “If you’ll call Darla?”
“No, I won’t.” She stepped forward and pulled the door closed behind her, forcing him to take a step back. “You can’t make her leave now.”
“Why not?” The peremptory tone of her voice confused him.
“Darla’s spent a huge amount of time helping prepare this meal,” Susannah informed him. “It’s only fair she should get to enjoy it.”
“I’m not sure this is about fairness. But—”
/>
She cut him off.
“Look, I get that you don’t like me, that you think I’m some kind of a tramp. It was evident in the way you looked at me when I told Connie I was pregnant.” Her face flushed red but she didn’t stop glaring at him. “Fine. No problem. But this isn’t about me.”
If that’s what she thought, her perceptions were way off. David had lost valuable billing time in the past two weeks thinking about Susannah Wells, and not one thought had been negative.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, frowning.
“This isn’t about you,” he repeated, noting the way the porch light reflected the emerald sparks in her eyes. The deep hollows under her cheeks had filled out a little and that pallid, sickly look was completely gone. Her blond hair shone like a swath of hammered gold as it tumbled down her back.
“It isn’t about you, either. It’s about Darla. She’s tried very hard to make up for worrying you by leaving your house without telling anyone. Helping with dinner is her way of making up.” Susannah lowered her voice as the door creaked open. “Can’t you let her have that much?”
She made it sound like he was some kind of an ogre. David fumed. But he kept his lips buttoned because Darla’s dark head appeared in the doorway.
“Can we stay for dinner, Davy? Connie invited, I didn’t ask.” His sister stood in front of him, hands clasped at her waist as she waited. She looked different and it took David a minute to figure out why. Her hair. It had been styled in a way that showed off her pretty eyes.
“Do you deserve to stay?” he asked, waiting for her to blow up.
But Darla simply shook her head.
“No, I don’t,” she murmured. “I promised not to leave the house without asking, and I broke my promise. I’m sorry, Davy.”
“Are you really?” he asked, suspicious of the meek tone in her voice. He glanced at Susannah but she was watching Darla, her face an expressionless mask.
“I really am.” Darla peeked at Susannah who gave a slight nod. “I got mad because Ms. Matchett said my fairy-tale book was silly. We argued, and she said I was a dummy.” Her bottom lip trembled, but after a moment she collected herself. “I didn’t like her calling me that so I left. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Davy.”
