Now, seeming to sense her hesitation, he kept the kiss brief. “Good night, Jane.”
“Good night.” She gave a self-conscious laugh and turned her attention to the baby, skimming a finger down his soft cheek. “Good night to you, sweet boy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After Donald left, Jane locked the door for the night and allowed a sigh to escape. It would take a while for affection to grow again. In the meantime, she needed to grant herself a little grace in that regard and take this new relationship one day at a time.
On Monday morning, Garrett parked his car outside Jane’s house, likely for the last time. After today, he’d have no reason to see her again. Maybe then he could stop picturing an entirely different future, or at least stop torturing himself by having to see her with another man.
Still, as he approached her house, an unwarranted flare of hope burned in his chest. Hope that she might have had a change of heart overnight.
But when Hildie answered the door, a wave of disappointment hit hard.
“Good morning, Garrett.” She handed him Martin’s small suitcase with a tentative smile. “Martin’s all ready and waiting for you.”
Sure enough, the boy moved into view from behind her. Garrett attempted to peer into the hallway, but Jane was nowhere to be found. Would she really let Martin go without a proper farewell?
“Jane’s over at Donald’s this morning.” Hildie watched him with knowing eyes. “She’s already bid Martin good-bye, and she said to thank you again for bringing him.”
Garrett hated the searing defeat that seeped through his system at the thought that she’d obviously left early to avoid him. When would he accept that she’d chosen Donald and was now invested in her new life?
“Be a good lad for your foster parents.” Hildie patted Martin on the back. “I hope we’ll see you again soon.”
Martin appeared unusually sullen as he said good-bye and followed Garrett to the car.
He supposed it was only natural for the boy to feel unsettled, being uprooted so many times over the past few weeks. All Garrett could do was try to reassure him that everything would work out in time.
“The Blackwoods are a nice couple,” he said in his most convincing manner as he pulled away from the curb. “I interviewed them myself to make sure.”
“Will they let me have Blackie?”
Garrett glanced at the scowling boy, then back at the road. “We discussed this before we left the farm, remember? Blackie is a big dog. He needs room to run around.” He bit back the urge to promise he could visit one day, since he had no idea if that would ever happen.
Garrett drove for a while in silence. Finally, he couldn’t resist asking about the previous day. “Did you have a nice time with Mrs. Linder and Donald?”
“I guess.”
“What did you do?”
“We went to see some boats. Then we went to a park.”
“That sounds like fun.”
Martin shrugged, unsmiling. “It was all right. But I wish it was just Mrs. Linder and not him too.”
Hmm. It seemed Donald hadn’t made a great impression on the boy.
Martin turned to look at him. “Mrs. Linder said she’s going to marry him.”
His stomach sank. “She did?”
The boy nodded. “I think it’s ’cause he has a baby.”
Garrett came to a halt at a stop sign. He waited a beat, drumming his fingers on the wheel, and at last he couldn’t resist asking, “Does Donald treat Mrs. Linder nicely?”
Martin shrugged again. “He kissed her good-bye when he left, so I guess he likes her.”
Garrett’s gut clenched hard. Served him right for prying. Yet he had a hard time believing Jane could move so quickly from resentment to kissing.
Not that it was any longer his business whom she kissed. He gripped the steering wheel harder and accelerated through the intersection.
A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Blackwood house. He shut off the engine and took a moment to focus on the present situation. “Martin, I know you’re scared. But right now, I want you to do your best to get along with Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood.”
Martin stared out of the window, his chin quivering slightly.
Garrett’s insides felt hollow. He couldn’t help but feel he’d let the boy down. Had he been wrong to suggest bringing Martin to stay at his parents’? Had he only subjected the boy to another disappointment? “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay at the farm longer,” Garrett said, regret pushing at his throat. “But I hope you’ll always remember the fun you had there.”
“I’m sorry I was bad, Mr. Wilder. I didn’t mean to make them angry.” A tear hung on the boy’s lashes.
Garrett reached over and pulled the boy into a hug. “I know you didn’t. But unfortunately, actions have consequences.”
Martin buried his face into Garrett’s jacket. “If I promise to be better, would they let me come back?”
How he wished he could say yes. Garrett swallowed hard in order to speak again. “Maybe you can come back for a visit one day. But for now, do your best here.”
Martin stared at him for a second, and then his childish features hardened into an expression far too adult for an eight-year-old. He swiped his elbow across his face and pushed open the car door.
Garrett’s heart ached for him, the way he seemed to expect nothing but disappointment from the adults in his life. And despite Garrett’s good intentions, he’d been no better. He clenched his teeth together. For the first time, he truly understood Jane’s obsession with finding Martin the perfect home and her feeling that she’d constantly let the boy down.
Lord, protect this child. Show him your love and find him the family that will give him the stability and affection he so rightly deserves.
Forcing his emotions back, Garrett took a deep breath and got out of the car. The Blackwoods would expect a professional representative of the Children’s Aid Society to handle the transaction, not an emotional wreck.
The couple opened the door with a welcoming smile and gushed over Martin as they brought him into their home. Yet, as Garrett left the boy with virtual strangers, he couldn’t rid himself of the sinking feeling that he was abandoning Martin to an unknown future.
Much like his own uncertain future.
One that continued to hold him hostage.
Garrett strode back to his car, anger twisting through every muscle. He got in and slammed the door. Suddenly, doing nothing about his health seemed more cowardly than pragmatic. Didn’t he owe it to himself to live life to the fullest? If he could get a definitive answer from a specialist about whether surgery was even a possibility, shouldn’t he at least try?
Maybe if he had a final diagnosis, good or bad, he could stop wishing for a life he wasn’t meant to live.
33
Jane laid the sleeping baby in the crib, adjusted the blanket over him, and stood watching his tiny chest rise and fall. There was something about a sleeping child that wrapped a person’s soul in wonder, their sheer innocence and beauty evidence of God’s grace in the world. Very quietly, she backed out of the room and walked into the living room, where Mrs. Hedley was ironing the laundry.
It had been over a week since Jane had started coming to the apartment every day, and she and the nanny had developed a good rapport. Once Mrs. Hedley had gotten past her initial mistrust, she had eagerly shared all her expertise in caring for Patrick.
Donald had been offered the sales job and had started work the next day. Was Jane a terrible person to be less than thrilled that her husband-to-be was now a car salesman?
“Is the wee angel asleep?” Mrs. Hedley asked. Steam hissed from the iron as she slid it across the fabric.
“He is.” Jane dropped into one of the chairs. “Who knew caring for one tiny being could be so exhausting?”
Mrs. Hedley chuckled. “And you get to go home at the end of the day. Imagine when it’s all night too.”
Jane grimaced.
The woman se
t the iron on its stand. “I will miss that boy when I leave, but I must admit, I’m glad to be going home.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Mrs. Hedley folded the blouse and set it aside, then gave her a funny stare. “What about you, Jane? Are you really ready to marry again? I’d imagine you’d be leery to trust Donald after what he put you through.”
Jane straightened on her chair. What exactly did this woman know about her and Donald’s past? It sounded like she was trying to warn her. “When it comes to Patrick, I have no qualms at all. But to be honest, I’m not certain about marrying Donald yet. Which is why I’m taking things slowly.”
“You’ve given up your career,” Mrs. Hedley said, her expression serious as she unplugged the iron. “I’d hate it to be for nothing if things don’t work out.”
Unease slid through Jane’s system. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
The woman’s mouth turned down. “Overall, I do believe Donald is a good man. I just hope he isn’t moving too fast.” Mrs. Hedley reached over and patted Jane’s hand. “Make sure you’re marrying for the right reasons, luv. That’s all I’m saying.”
Then she rose and took the ironed clothes into the bedroom, leaving Jane with a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.
On the night before Mrs. Hedley’s scheduled departure for England, Donald insisted on taking Jane out for a nice dinner.
“After all,” he said, “we won’t have a built-in babysitter once she’s gone.”
Jane wasn’t sure she was ready to move to dating just yet, but at some point she’d have to put forth the effort if she intended to marry him again.
And so, she agreed to the dinner date.
Earlier, as she’d donned her best green dress, she’d smiled to herself, thinking of the little things Donald had been doing to please her over the past week. One night, he’d come home with a small bouquet of daisies. Another day, he’d brought her brownies from the local bakery she liked.
And now he was taking her to Chez Monique, a fancy restaurant in the heart of downtown known for its French cuisine.
As they entered the dimly lit dining room, with its flickering candlelight and soft music, a hard pang went through her. How she wished she were here with Garrett instead. To sit across the table from him in this romantic setting and stare into his vibrant blue eyes would be thrilling beyond measure.
But that kind of thinking wasn’t fair to Donald. And as she smoothed her dress under her, she resolved to appreciate Donald for his own merits.
After an initial period of awkward silence, they passed the meal in pleasant-enough conversation. Donald recounted some amusing encounters at the car dealership. Jane did her best to listen politely and comment where it seemed appropriate.
“I don’t intend for this to be my permanent career,” he said quietly at the end of one story. Perhaps he’d sensed her less-than-enthusiastic response. “It will do for now, until I find a job I really want.”
“What would that be? I remember when you worked for the hardware store after we were first married, you hoped to work in an office one day.”
“True. I’ve always thought that banking would be a good fit for me. Wearing a suit and tie, having a nice office.” He shrugged one shoulder. “A little easier than trying to sell cars.”
She smiled. “That sounds like a good career choice.” A banker’s wife. Not something she ever pictured herself being, but it had the ring of respectability she liked.
Donald reached across the table and laid a hand over hers. “It would mean better hours. I could come home and eat dinner with my family every night and maybe take the kids to the park before bedtime.”
Her heart stirred to a familiar dream. One they’d discussed so long ago, when they learned she was pregnant the first time. Before their dreams had been crushed by sorrow. “That sounds really nice.”
And the fact that he’d said kids meant the world to her. It showed he was truly on board with adopting Martin. Maybe they’d even consider adopting another child down the road. Warmth that had nothing to do with her after-dinner coffee spread through her system.
“I wonder how Martin is faring at the foster home,” she mused as she scraped the last of her chocolate mousse from the fancy dish. “I thought I might have heard something by now.”
Donald set his coffee down, unease evident in the tension around his eyes. “Have you been in contact with Garrett?”
“No, I haven’t. But he did say he’d let me know how Martin was doing, since he knows that I . . . we hope to adopt him.”
“Will he be the one handling the adoption?” The soft question held a thread of disapproval.
She blinked. “I doubt it. I imagine he’ll hand it off to one of the caseworkers.”
“Good.” He took in a deep breath. “I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I’ve sensed there’s more between you two than just co-workers. And I couldn’t help but notice some hostility toward me on his part as well.” He stared at her intently enough to make her squirm. “Am I right?”
Jane swallowed her coffee. How did she answer that with anything less than the truth? “Garrett and I did grow close during our time together.”
Donald frowned, grooves appearing between his brows, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
“However, we both realized there were too many obstacles for us to ever have a future together.” Her gaze fell to the pristine white tablecloth, hoping to mask the regret that must be evident on her face.
“I see,” he said slowly. “Thank you for being honest with me. And since that’s the case, I’d prefer if you didn’t have any further contact with him now that you’ve made a commitment to me and Patrick. I hope you understand.”
A bubble of irritation rose in her chest but quickly dissipated. She couldn’t fault Donald for his request. And he hadn’t spoken in anger. He’d simply stated a fact. To make a big issue out of it might make him believe there was more to her relationship with Garrett than there was.
“Don’t worry. Once the issue of the adoption is settled, I’ll have no need to contact him again.” Her traitorous heart twisted at the words, and she glanced down once again to hide her conflicted emotions.
“I appreciate that. We already have enough obstacles of our own to overcome. We don’t need any extra ones.”
As Donald settled their bill, Jane sent up a desperate prayer. Lord, help me to put Garrett in the past and focus my affections on what I have in front of me.
Despite the crisp November air, they chose to walk the several blocks from the restaurant to her home rather than taking a cab, wanting a bit of exercise after the big meal they’d eaten. The streets were practically deserted at eight o’clock in the evening. Yet the glow from the streetlights and from the neon shop signs created the illusion of warmth as they walked.
In her haste this evening, Jane had forgotten her gloves, and even with her hands in her pockets, they were half frozen. At one point when they stopped to admire a window setting, Donald reached over and took one of her hands in his, his warmth curling around her fingers.
“Do you remember when we were first dating?” he asked softly. “How long it took me to work up the nerve to hold your hand?”
“I remember.” She smiled, allowing the memory to drift over her. “I thought you’d never get around to it. But then that day after the football game, you walked me home and finally grabbed my fingers.”
He laughed. “If memory serves, I got the nerve to do more than that once we got home.”
Her cheeks heated. “Our first kiss.”
“A rather awkward one, I’ll admit. But I’d like to think I improved greatly after some practice.”
She allowed her mind to travel back to those innocent days, before all the disappointments in life had worn them down. “You certainly did.” She chuckled, recalling the many kisses they’d shared at the beginning of their romance. “One of the reasons we married so soon after graduation.”
His arm came around her shoulders like a familiar hug. “I’m glad you still have some fond memories,” he said. “That my actions didn’t totally erase the good times we shared.”
“No, they didn’t.” Her heart softened. “I guess it was just easier to focus on the bad times than remember the good.”
“I promise I’m going to make it up to you, Jane. All I want is for us to be a family, and for you to be happy again.” He brushed a soft kiss over her mouth, and this time Jane didn’t shy away, allowing the warm feelings from the memories he’d brought back to carry forward into the lingering embrace.
Perhaps this relationship could work out after all.
They continued walking, holding hands, and when they reached her house, Jane hesitated. It was still early. Should she ask him in, or would that be inviting too much familiarity?
The choice was taken out of her hands when Mama opened the front door. “Jane, thank goodness you’re back. Garrett called.”
At once, the haze of new closeness between her and Donald vanished, and a cold burst of alarm spurted through her. “Why? Is something wrong?” Jane followed her mother into the house.
Mama twisted her hands together in front of her. “It’s Martin. He’s run away from the Blackwoods. Garrett thought perhaps he might have come here.”
Jane’s knees went weak, but she managed to rush into the parlor, where the telephone sat near Mama’s chair. “Did Garrett say if he was at the agency?”
“Yes. But he was going to start looking for Martin.”
“I’ll try anyway, just in case.” She began dialing the number, suddenly conscious of Donald standing before her.
The phone rang and rang. The start of a headache brewed at her temples as she slowly hung up the receiver. What could she do now? She didn’t know the Blackwoods’ number, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to contact them anyway, since she was no longer employed by the Children’s Aid.
But she ached for information. What had happened to drive Martin away? Where could he be now? Where would he go? The weather was turning colder by the minute, and if she remembered the forecast correctly, there was the possibility of snow tonight. Yet, until Garrett contacted her again, there was nothing she could do but wait.
To Find Her Place Page 26
