Love Inspired June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Patricia Johns

  Now that girl was the mother of his child.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Are you okay?” Laura stepped into her office, not bothering to knock. Or maybe she had knocked and Avery hadn’t heard. She’d been numb since she discovered Grayson in her office.

  How was it possible to be so numb and yet feel the worst emotional pain of her life? And that didn’t include her mind, which was going in circles trying to decide on a plan of action. Her life had been carefully balanced and now it was like a child’s top, spinning out of control.

  “I’m good,” Avery assured her friend. She added a stiff and probably unconvincing smile to punctuate the statement.

  “Right.” Laura drawled the word out, then she pushed the door closed. “Talk. We have five minutes while the aides help residents back to their rooms.”

  “What am I supposed to say in five minutes?”

  “Mr. All Hat was back today and he didn’t stay for his community service.”

  “So?”

  “We could start with him. He’s obviously someone important to you.”

  “He isn’t important to me.” Her gaze strayed to the picture of herself and Quinn.

  Laura’s gaze followed hers and then she stepped around the desk and reached for the photo. Her eyes widened and she whistled. “Whoa, I didn’t notice that yesterday. I was too busy getting an eyeful of a handsome stranger. Even a happily engaged woman like myself can see that he’s pretty gorgeous.”

  Avery took the photo from Laura, her eyes watering as she stared down at the image of her smiling, sassy daughter. “It’s that obvious?”

  “You know it is. She has his eyes, his dimples, even that stubborn chin of hers now makes sense. Oh, Avery, I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

  “Ashamed. Afraid. Panicked. Do I need to go on?”

  “No, I think you should stop before you send yourself straight over the edge of the cliff you’re standing on.”

  “The cliff looks so appealing right about now,” she said as she took a deep, shuddery breath and set the photo back on her desk. “I have to do something. I have to find a way to tell my daughter that she has a dad and he is in town.”

  “She’s a smart girl. She’s always known she has a dad. The in town part might be the shocker, though. Why don’t you go home? Take a sick day.”

  “I’m not sure how a sick day would help.”

  “You’ve got this, Avery. And you’re not alone. You have friends. You have Nan. And you have faith. God is never surprised. The situations we encounter might knock us off our feet, but they don’t knock Him off His feet. Pray.”

  “Thank you. And yes, I’ll see if I can leave early.”

  “If you need me...”

  Avery rarely hugged anyone, but she grabbed her friend in a quick embrace. “I’m glad God sent you to Pleasant.”

  In twenty-nine years on this earth, she’d never had a friend like Laura Anderson.

  Even her many foster sisters hadn’t been her closest friends. Maybe because as teens they’d all been wounded, angry and fighting to survive. They hadn’t been able to really bond because they’d been too immersed in survival mode.

  “Go. We’ll all still be here tomorrow.”

  Fifteen minutes later Avery hit the road. As she drove, she rolled the car windows down and played worship music. She didn’t go right home. She drove down Pleasant Avenue, turned left on Riverside Drive and followed the narrow, paved road a mile out of town to the run-down trailer park where she’d grown up. The trailer she’d lived in now had missing siding. The roof had been patched with pieces of sheet metal. The porch was gone.

  Nothing remained but memories.

  Memories of being forgotten. Memories of being ridiculed.

  Memories of a girl who used to dream of the day she’d return and show them all that they weren’t better than she was. She had few positive memories of this place, this town. And yet, she’d returned. She’d returned to Pleasant, to the church she’d grown up in, the same church where those same girls who had ridiculed her on the school playground had pretended to be her friends in Sunday school.

  Many of those girls still attended the Pleasant First Community Church. They were adults now. With crying toddlers, baby food stains on their best dresses, and diaper bags instead of designer purses. Somehow, growing up had evened the playing field, and she found she even liked some of the same people who had made her childhood so miserable.

  She’d forgiven them because it made more sense than the bitterness she’d harbored for so many years. Staying angry took too much energy.

  It was all water under the bridge, except for Quinn. And Grayson.

  She sat for a long time, staring at the run-down trailer, trying to picture her mother’s face. She’d had blond hair and sunken-in cheeks. She had never truly laughed, not with humor. Her laughter had often been the product of a drug-induced high. Tears had been more the norm.

  The one thing that Avery could guarantee was that Quinn would never ever know that kind of life.

  Every single decision Avery made, she made with Quinn in mind. Quinn would never feel abandoned, hurt or forgotten, not by Avery. And Avery was adamant that she’d do everything in her power to make sure Grayson didn’t hurt their daughter.

  She needed to make sure Grayson understood he couldn’t take her daughter. The thought of losing Quinn to Grayson might have been buried deep inside her for ten years, since Quinn’s birth. She’d ignored it, pretended it wasn’t a driving factor in her life, but it had always been there.

  She pulled out of the driveway without looking back. With an hour to spare before school got out, she drove to the property she had bought to build a house on. The five acres sat a little too close to the Stone farm, a fact that hadn’t bothered her when she’d thought the Stones resided in Springfield and when she’d thought Grayson would never set foot in Pleasant ever again.

  But then the judge had returned to town. And now, Grayson.

  This property was her future, though. It was a part of her dream, to turn this place of rolling hills, big oaks and the occasional dogwood into a home for herself and Quinn. She had planned the house herself, brick and natural wood, big windows and wide, covered porches. They would be settled here with good neighbors, a church family that loved them and a future that was secure.

  She didn’t want to let go of that dream. She wouldn’t let it be one more thing for Grayson to take from her.

  She parked in the gravel next to the framed house, just a concrete foundation and the skeleton of what would be their home. A home that was meant to shelter them, protect them, make them feel safe.

  All of her life this had been her goal. Her short time at Nan’s had taught her to believe in the impossible, to set goals, to trust God for her future. Those were things Grayson couldn’t take. And he hadn’t stolen everything. He hadn’t known it, but he’d given her the best part of her life, Quinn.

  She walked through the home that had no walls. In her mind she could see it all clearly. The living room where they would set up a Christmas tree. The kitchen where they would bake cookies. The dining room and small sitting room with a view of distant hills.

  She could see her daughter growing up here. But now the dream had changed. Grayson had returned and he would somehow have to be involved in their lives. Her throat closed at the thought of Christmases without Quinn. Holidays Quinn would be in California with Grayson, and she’d be all alone.

  Just then a car door slammed. She walked back through the house to see who had arrived. Her heart sank at the sight of the man standing next to his truck. Grayson, a cowboy hat pushed back on his head as he studied the house. Then his gaze landed on her.

  Her heart stuttered, caught somewhere between past and present. Grayson the dream, the enemy, the father of her daughter. Having him here made it all too real. He
was going to be a part of her present and her future. He was no longer just a person from her past. Not that he had ever really been the past. Quinn had kept him a real figure in her life.

  If only her heart didn’t quake a little at the sight of him. Traitorous heart, it had always reacted to him in just this way, even after he’d hurt her. Even knowing the things he’d said about her. Even now her heart wished he could have been the person she imagined him to be instead of the one who had hurt her and left her.

  Her heart might not understand the need for distance, but she did. She would never let him hurt her again. She wouldn’t let him hurt Quinn. And that meant if he took one step into her daughter’s life, his daughter’s life, she wouldn’t let him walk away.

  As much as Grayson’s being in her life frightened her, the idea of him hurting Quinn frightened her more. She could protect herself. She could handle his rejection. Quinn was only a child and didn’t have the coping skills to handle the hurt he might cause.

  “I was in town and heard you’d bought this piece of land,” he said as he crossed the uneven ground to the building site. “This is going to be nice.”

  He studied the site of her future home and she studied him. She tried to decide the best way forward with a man she’d learned she couldn’t trust. Yet somehow, he always lured her in. It was more than his country-boy good looks. As a grown man, he’d put a polish to those teen looks of his, and that was something she couldn’t deny. But there was more to him than that. There was a sincerity in his eyes that always drew her.

  She desperately wanted to trust him. That was what had always landed her in trouble—trusting Grayson.

  “Avery?” he asked, drawing her back to the present.

  “Thank you. It’s been my dream for a long time, to have a house on this piece of land. When it came up for sale, I bought it.”

  “I remember,” he said, surprising her.

  “What?”

  He came nearer, pulling off his cowboy hat as he continued to study the building. “I remember you talking about this piece of land. If I remember correctly, it was the dogwood trees and the pond that you loved.”

  Avery’s cheeks pinkened. He had remembered their picnic at the pond. It had been spring and the dogwoods and redbuds had been vibrant purple and white against the backdrop of emerald green grass. That he recalled the day shouldn’t mean anything to her. She should know better than to be affected by it, but she was.

  The memory of that afternoon came back to her, so clearly she could almost see it. They’d been driving back roads, the windows rolled down and the early-spring air whipping through his car. The radio had played a pop love song from decades past, with the melancholy lyrics that begged to know what love is. Back then she’d been living that emotional song that seemed to cater to the hearts of lonely teen girls. Every time she’d heard it, she’d swooned and thought of Grayson and her. She’d thought he might be the one to show her love.

  Instead he’d only shown her more of the heartache and pain that came with loving someone who didn’t really love her back.

  He was no longer her dream. She no longer needed his love or the heartache he promised to be a whole person. What she truly needed was security and a place to build a life for her daughter.

  This place. This piece of land that remained a promise, a dream, unchanging. Solid.

  He walked away from her, wandering through the wall-less rooms, examining the frame of her future home. She started to tell him she hadn’t invited him in but she stopped herself when he tossed her a look.

  “I’m not going to take your daughter, you know,” he said. “Our daughter. But I do want to know her. I do want to be a part of her life.”

  “I see.”

  “I want to help you raise her. If this is the home you want for our daughter,” he said, “I want to help you build this house. If you don’t want me to build it, at least let me help pay for it.”

  “I’ll pay for my own house, thank you very much.”

  “I owe you ten years of child support.”

  “You owe me nothing, Grayson.”

  He stepped away from her, his dark eyes taking on the hint of mossy green she remembered so well. “I know you don’t trust me, but we’re going to have to work through that.”

  She didn’t like being told what to do.

  He put a hand on a two-by-four that would be part of her living room wall. “Who’s building this house for you?” he asked.

  “A contractor out of Branson.”

  He studied the frame and shook his head. “Why did you pick him?”

  “I don’t think you have the right to question me,” she said, hearing her voice get all defensive and knowing his would, too.

  “I’m not getting in your business, Avery. But building is my business and I’m concerned. I can already see he’s cutting corners.”

  “He’s just trying to save me money,” she defended. But now the doubts began to pile up. He was so good at causing her to doubt herself.

  “Cutting corners is saving him money, not you.”

  She studied the frame of the house with new eyes, trying to see what he saw. She didn’t see anything, but she accepted that he knew far more than she would about building homes. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

  “If you need help...” He left the offer open and she nodded. It didn’t hurt, accepting his help. Not the way she thought it might.

  In the distance she heard a school bus. She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. Quinn will be home soon.”

  “I’d like to meet her.”

  “Let me talk to her first.”

  As she walked to her car, she saw the yellow bus top a hill, then slow to a stop, red lights blinking. It was stopping at Grayson’s father’s place.

  “Why is the bus stopping at your dad’s?” she asked. But the question didn’t need to be asked. She already knew.

  From the look on Grayson’s face, he knew, as well. They were about to confront their daughter as parents.

  She closed her eyes and prayed that she would be strong, that Grayson wouldn’t break their hearts and that Quinn would forgive her.

  That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  * * *

  Grayson stood next to Avery, and it wasn’t really his life flashing before his eyes but the present and the future coming together. The woman he’d hurt. The bus, lights flashing, stopping a short distance away.

  Across the ten acres of pasture that stood between his dad’s place and Avery’s, he could see a small figure exiting the bus. From that distance he couldn’t make out anything about her, but from Avery’s reaction, he knew it was his daughter. He watched as she headed toward his father’s house.

  “I have to get to her,” Avery said with a noticeable panic in her voice.

  “Get in my truck. We can go together.”

  “I’ll take my car,” she said as she hurried away from him.

  “Of course.” He let her go, and for some reason he couldn’t make himself hurry to his truck. His feet dragged and his thoughts circled around the small figure he’d seen from a distance. His daughter.

  Would she like him? Would she have the same resentment her mother had for him? He’d only seen a photograph and he already loved her, so much so that it ached deep in his heart. He wondered if that was natural. If he’d seen her as an infant, would he have felt that immediate connection to the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl who was his child?

  In only a few minutes he would know.

  He pulled up to the farmhouse that his dad had insisted on returning to. Avery had already arrived. His dad was on the porch and Nina was with him. Quinn, small but mighty, was poised on the steps as if preparing to run.

  Avery was out of her car and running to Quinn’s side. Grayson got out of his truck and followed, moving slower, giving them time. Then his gaz
e connected with his daughter’s. Quinn. He had a daughter named Quinn. She looked like him. And at that moment her round eyes were filled with anger, wonder and all sorts of emotions that she had every right to.

  Everything was in slow motion as he waited. She stood there, just a kid in skinny jeans and a long T-shirt, her head held high as she stared him down. She was tall and awkward; she was brave but uncertain. Yes, he had been correct in knowing he would love her immediately. She was his.

  “Quinn,” Avery began, but at the look of rage in their daughter’s eyes, she stopped speaking.

  “I heard them talking at recess. Mrs. Jackson, the substitute, was telling Fanny Maxwell, the cook, that she’d seen Grayson Stone and that ‘it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew who poor Quinn Hammons’s daddy is.’”

  “I’m so sorry,” Avery said in a hushed voice. She reached for her daughter but Quinn shook her head.

  She turned to look at him again. “Are you my dad?” Quinn asked, ignoring her mother. Quinn bit down on her bottom lip, her mossy-brown eyes continuing to study him. “Well?”

  Right, he hadn’t answered her question. He looked to Avery because he didn’t know what to say. As much as he wanted to claim this girl, he didn’t want to move too quickly. He didn’t want to hurt her mother. Avery gave a reluctant nod.

  “I am,” he answered. It was either the most profound words he’d ever uttered or the most inept. This slip of a girl confronting him with a mixture of bravado and fear was his daughter.

  Quinn jerked around to face Avery. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  “Yes, I was going to tell you.” Avery’s voice was broken, devastated, but she didn’t cry.

  Quinn started to shove past him, to escape. Avery reached for her arm. “Quinn, wait...”

  “No,” Quinn said, her eyes drowning in tears. She looked at them all. Her mother, Grayson, the judge and his caregiver. She looked angry and frightened. She appeared desperate to escape.

  “Give her a minute,” Grayson said as he reached for Avery’s arm, stopping her pursuit of their daughter. Their eyes met and hers were pretty intense. He pulled back, but watched her take a deep breath and briefly close her eyes.