If You Choose Me (A Sugar Maple Novel)

by Ciara Knight

  “First, you ask way too many questions. I figured you were an interrogator during the war or a reporter. Also, you have too many connections for a normal salesperson.”

  Wayne raised his brow at him. “You are a perceptive person.”

  “That, and Glen told someone five minutes after you got out of the truck the day you arrived, and I knew by morning. You should know, Glen is not good at keeping secrets, no matter how much you pay him.”

  Wayne bowed his head. Shame flooded him.

  “It’s fine. Based on your line of questions, I assumed you were looking at doing a story about us and the adoption. We’ve told others no, but Rosie and I discussed it and decided that if it helps motivate others to bring in the lost and forgotten older children people typically don’t want to adopt, we’d be doing God’s work. And it might help us with Davey’s adoption.”

  Vic’s face flashed with concern, and Wayne wanted to make it better. The way his brother had always taken his pain away. “I’ll do everything I can to help. Also, if Rosie needs any help with deliveries, I’m happy to do it. I’ll be staying a bit longer. I’ve sent word to my sister-in-law. I’m hoping she can come stay at the boardinghouse with me while I look for a permanent home for her. It’ll be less expensive for me to care for her here than in the city, and I know she’ll be in a great place with a small-town family.”

  “It’s a great place to raise a family.” Victor looked at the door. “You’ve trusted me with your secret. Can I share mine with you?”

  “Yes, of course.” Wayne leaned in as if it were such a secret it would have to be whispered.

  “Rosie is with child,” Victor said with a hint of fear instead of joy in his tone. “That’s why I didn’t want her delivering furniture.” He held a small chisel in his hand tight, his knuckles whitening.

  “I thought…well…” Wayne swallowed a lump of indecision but decided to ask anyway. “I thought she couldn’t have children.”

  Victor put the chisel down and let out a long winter sigh. “She hasn’t been able to yet, and we don’t know if she can carry this baby either. The doctor says if she makes it to February 14th, there’s a good chance she’ll carry the baby to the end.”

  “That isn’t too far off. A few weeks?” Wayne reassured him, not that he knew anything about pregnancy.

  “Yes, a few extremely dangerous weeks with all this stress.” Victor looked at him with such sad eyes. “I don’t know if Rosie will survive losing both Davey and a baby at the same time.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure to make Davey’s adoption happen so that you and Rosie can concentrate on that baby.” For the first time in his life, he believed in a family, that Victor and Rosie were loving parents who wanted to spend all their energy keeping their family together. And for that reason, he had to help no matter what. If only he and his brother had had parents like the Besslers, their life would’ve been so different.

  “That sounds like a kind offer. I hope you’ll be here to meet our new child when he or she arrives. Or are you planning on leaving as soon as the story’s done?”

  Wayne thought about his words. He liked the town, but he didn’t know if he could stay. “My work will take me away once I’m done with this story.”

  “I see.” Victor looked disappointed, but Wayne couldn’t fathom why. “I’d hoped you’d be sticking around for Shirley and Beth.”

  “I wouldn’t be good for them. I’ve never been good as any sort of family support. It never stuck with me the way it did with my brother. I’m not good with staying in one place.”

  “Maybe you haven’t found the right place. Do yourself a favor. Go tell Shirley the truth. About everything—your hopes, your dreams, what you’re scared of. I think you’ll be surprised to learn Shirley’s truth, too,” Victor said.

  The other man’s words stayed with Wayne all the way back up the hill and to the Bessler house. What was Shirley’s truth?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The knock at the door drew Shirley from reading time with Beth, who snuggled into her side on the couch.

  “It’s Wayne,” a deep voice called through the cracks in the front window.

  Beth climbed down from the couch and toddle-ran to the door. “Daddy here!”

  “No, honey. I told you he’s not your father.” Shirley set the book on the cushion by her side and answered the door.

  “Hi, I didn’t want to disturb you, but I wanted to ask for a favor.”

  Shirley eyed her little girl jumping with her arms in the air toward Wayne.

  “I fly. I fly.”

  He swung her up into the air and then spun around into the room without being invited inside.

  “I’m about to get to work cleaning the floors,” she announced, not wanting to be alone with him. It wouldn’t be proper.

  “I can do that if you can make some lunch for me to take to Mrs. Slaughter.”

  Shirley couldn’t send him away without discovering what was going on with Mrs. Slaughter, the woman who’d spent each day teaching her to cook. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Wayne put Beth on the couch, but she hopped up and down with her arms held up to him.

  “Again. Again.”

  He flew her around Shirley. “It’s her foot. It’s swollen worse today.” He spun and spun until they both fell back onto the couch. Beth laughed and her eyes rolled along with her head. Wayne must’ve felt it too, because he closed his eyes until Beth crawled up his lap and placed both hands on either side of his cheeks and pulled him to look at her.

  “Fun.”

  Shirley snagged her wiggly little one and held her up. “You need to clean up your toys. You’ve made a mess.” She set Beth down next to the pile she’d dumped from the wooden box and then headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make some food for you to take down to her. Tell her not to worry about dinner. I have extra pork chops, too.”

  He stood with a slight wobble and then followed her into the kitchen. “That’s kind of you.”

  “It’s the least that I can do, considering the fact she’s taught me how to cook.” Shirley went to work packing a lunch up for Mrs. Slaughter and for Wayne, but she couldn’t ignore him standing only a step or two away from her. He looked smart today in his dark tie. It brought out the blue in his eyes that always appeared as if he was looking deep into her thoughts. He looked at her as if she were the only one in the world, making her feel special and vulnerable at the same time. He’d been nothing but a gentleman and made Beth so happy when he was around. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Have you made any decisions about your sister-in-law coming to live in Sugar Maple?”

  “What?” He blinked as if he’d been lost for a moment in his thoughts. “Oh, yes, I think this would be a swell place for her to live.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. “You know, I think I’m going to bring her to stay at Mrs. Slaughter’s until I can find a place I can afford for them on a more permanent basis.”

  “So I guess that means you need to return to work.” Shirley snagged some carrots and some fruit to add to their lunch.

  “Yes, I guess I need to, which is something that I wanted to speak with you about.”

  “Oh?” She tried not to show too much enthusiasm, but it would be nice if he stayed in town. “What have you been thinking?”

  He approached and took both her hands in his before she could even register what he was doing. They were alone. Not even Beth at their feet. “What are you doing?” she said in a shaking voice.

  “I need you to listen to me.” Wayne took in a deep breath. “I never thought when I came to Sugar Maple that I’d want to stay here. I’ve never wanted to stay anywhere for longer than a week before. But then I met Mrs. Slaughter, the Besslers, Beth, and you.” He squeezed her hands and caught her gaze. “You’re a remarkable woman, Shirley Stephens. I’ve never met a person like you before. You’re strong, capable, independent, but beautiful and gentle, too.”

  Her breath caught. He was declaring his fe
elings for her, and she didn’t know how to react. Wayne had done nothing but earn her trust since he’d arrived. Never once attempting to convince her of something inappropriate or sinful. Still, her heart beat faster than she thought possible. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I would like to stay in Sugar Maple longer. That is, if you’d like that.”

  She closed her eyes and thought to move away from him, to keep her future safe from a man who had no guarantees in the world. “I’d like that,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

  He smiled, an excited about life kind of smile. “Great. But there’s something I have to tell you first. I told Mr. Bessler earlier, and he already knew the truth of it, but I’m not sure if you do, and I would never want to lie to you or manipulate you. I’m guessing someone has already done something of that nature to you.”

  She swallowed hard and took a step back, but he didn’t release her.

  “Please, you need to listen. I’m not a salesperson. Well, I am, but I’m a salesman of words.” He moved closer, his gaze flashing to her lips and then back to her eyes. “I’ve been a journalist since before the war, but by the end of my stint in Germany, I was done with violence and devastation. I returned stateside, expecting to report on political news, but my editor told me that people wanted more feel-good pieces and he sent me here. I thought he was crazy. There’s no happiness in the world. That’s what I believed at the time. The Besslers were supposed to be the story that won me a new position at the paper.”

  She blinked at him, trying to decipher why he’d do such a thing. “You lied to them and to me?”

  “I only wanted to meet them first since people tend to avoid journalists when they’re strangers. I’d intended on telling them the morning after our first dinner, but then everything happened with Davey and it complicated things. My being here turned more toward helping with Davey than writing a story.”

  “The omission of truth is a lie.” She pulled from him, and this time he let her go.

  Wayne followed her to the refrigerator, where she went to get something but couldn’t remember what. “You’re right, but I never wanted to deceive anyone. I’ve already told Mr. Bessler everything.”

  “And he wasn’t mad?” she asked, feeling naïve—the one thing she never wanted to be again.

  “No, he said he had already figured it out.”

  She shook her head. “I’m a fool.”

  He swung her around in his arms. “No, you’re not. I’m the fool for not telling you when I first met you. I hope you can forgive me. I’d like to remain friends with you.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yes, for now, but in the future I’d like to take you on a date, to court you properly.”

  A flush rushed from her body, up her neck, and onto her face. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll forgive me. Would it help if I told you I might have used my connections as a journalist to keep the Besslers together?”

  She found her breathing shallow, challenging. His touch distracting. Despite her will to maintain her composure, she found herself thinking about his strong lips and arms. How she could feel safe and treasured by him. “How?”

  He stroked her hair away from her cheek, leaving an electrified trail behind. “Remember the photos I took last night?”

  She wasn’t sure why, but a hint of warning simmered inside. “Yes…”

  “I sent them to The New York Times for publication in the newspaper to see if Davey’s uncle comes forward. Even if he doesn’t, someone else might recognize the boy and the information.”

  “Pictures? Paper?” Her head spun so fast, she thought she’d collapse.

  “Yes, remember? While you all were decorating cookies.”

  The simmer boiled over. She pushed from him and raced to the living room, pulling Beth to her chest and pacing in different directions. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

  Wayne followed her around the room like a lost kitten. “Tell me.”

  “Get out,” Shirley said in a cold tone. “Now.”

  Beth whimpered and touched Shirley’s face. “Mommy. No. Mad.”

  She brushed Beth’s hand from her face. “Take the food to Mrs. Slaughter and don’t come back.”

  Wayne stood with an expression she could only describe as devastation. “I don’t understand.”

  She held Beth tight to her, sure someone would bust through the door and steal her away at any moment. “No, you wouldn’t.” But she couldn’t explain. All she could do was figure out where to run to next. Because once her family saw her picture in the paper, they’d track her down and send one of their men to get her and Beth. And if they held true to their threat, she’d never see Beth again and be married to a suitor of their choice by the end of the week.

  No. She’d made it this long with her beautiful girl at her side. She wouldn’t give up now. She waited for Wayne to leave, slammed the door, and raced to her room to pack. She’d have a few days, but she’d be ready to run at the first sign of trouble. In the meantime, she’d collect her wages and make another plan on where to hide next. She didn’t know where that would be, but she only knew she’d have to go far from the first house she’d ever felt was like a real home. Not a place of servants and coldness, or a damp nunnery, or a judgmental house full of despair. This was a home she wished she could live in until Beth was grown, but that wasn’t an option. Once again, they’d be alone. And next time, she’d make sure she didn’t fall prey to another man and his attentions that would ruin her life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  February brought the coldest morning temperatures Wayne had felt since arriving in Sugar Maple. Perhaps it had more to do with his spirit than the actual weather, but it felt darker and more bitter than in Detroit.

  He’d gone to the Besslers each day over the past week, but it was tense and he’d only stayed long enough to tell them that there wasn’t any news yet.

  He made his way downstairs and prepared breakfast, knowing Dr. Anderson didn’t want Mrs. Slaughter on her feet. The minute a pot touched the stove, Mrs. Slaughter made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing that.”

  “I’m the one who promised Dr. Anderson you wouldn’t.”

  Mrs. Slaughter huffed but hobbled over to a stool and sat down. “You know, for an outsider, you sure are bossy.”

  “I guess Dr. Anderson didn’t consider me an outsider, because he told me I was in charge.” Wayne cracked some eggs into a pan, dug out a couple of shell fragments, and swirled it around the pan like Mrs. Slaughter had done. Somehow it didn’t look the same.

  “I need to get Shirley up here to teach you to cook,” Mrs. Slaughter teased.

  Wayne pushed the eggs around the pan a little more vigorously. “She wouldn’t come.”

  Mrs. Slaughter nudged him out of the way, dumped the eggs in the trash, and started over. With each step, she winced, making him feel even worse.

  He’d been down for days. How many times had he walked into town to check to see if they’d received a message? He knew it wouldn’t come yet since the article only ran a day or two ago. Still, it gave him an excuse to walk by the Besslers.

  “For a bright man, you sure are stupid. What did you do?”

  Wayne couldn’t argue the point, but it didn’t mean he liked it. “I tried to be honest with Shirley, and she didn’t like it.”

  “Did you come on too strong? You better have been nothing but a gentleman.”

  “Of course. I’d never be anything but kind to Shirley and her daughter. They’re both too special.” He sighed, knowing he had to spill his secret to Mrs. Slaughter too, but he wasn’t ready to have another woman mad at him. Especially the woman who owned the house he was staying in for a while. “How long do you think she’ll be mad at me?”

  “A normal girl, probably a few days.” Mrs. Slaughter mixed eggs with milk. Ah, that’s why his had looked so yellow.

  “It’s b
een a week already.” Wayne leaned against the counter.

  “That’s for normal girls. Girls who like you, it could take another week or even two.”

  “Like me?” he asked, surprised. How much had he wished and hoped for such news.

  “Don’t even play games with me.” Mrs. Slaughter waved the spatula at him. “You’re sweet on her, too. Now you just have to make her see that you’re serious and not just wasting her time. She’s got a little girl to think about, too. Have you asked her about her late husband? Is she ready to move on with her life?”

  He hadn’t thought about that. Perhaps he should’ve asked her more about her past instead of trying to insert himself into her present before he knew if he wanted to be part of her future.

  A knock sounded at the front door, so Wayne answered to find Davey with a plate in his hands. “Mama told me to bring this down to you.”

  “Thanks. How’s everyone in the Bessler house doing?”

  Davey shrugged. “Why you not come down no more?”

  “Was I invited?” he asked with a hint of hope after he’d been turned away and told never to return by Shirley the evening of his confession. He hadn’t seen her since.

  “No, but that didn’t stop you before.” Davey handed the plate to him. “Says I’s supposed to give this and that I’m to tell ya that I’ll bring fried chicken tonight.”

  “Tell your mama and Ms. Shirley that I’ll be fine. No need to make extra food. She’s already got enough mouths to feed,” Mrs. Slaughter called from the kitchen.

  “And more coming,” Davey said with a furrowed brow. Was he mad Rosie would have another baby soon? Perhaps he thought that once they had a baby, they wouldn’t want him anymore. Smart kid. That’s what happened to Wayne and his brother with the third family they stayed with.

  “What’s that?” Mrs. Slaughter asked.

  “Nothin’. I best be getting back.” Davey shot down the hill, running full speed, but he lost his hat and had to backtrack and get it before he set off again.

  “Spill it. What did you do?” Mrs. Slaughter called from the living room. “Must have done something since this is the sixth day I haven’t seen Shirley and you haven’t been invited to dinner.”