A Family for Christmas
A Family for Christmas
Kate Welsh
THE CHILDREN OF HIS HEARTTrenton Osborne knew that his beloved wife, Maggie, was made for raising little ones. But Trent secretly, desperately, feared failing at fatherhood. So even with Christmas coming and ten years of marriage at stake, he had to let Maggie go….But on the brink of their divorce, like a gift from God, four orphaned children entered their lives and their hearts. Watching Maggie instantly open her arms to his nieces and nephews, Trent himself couldn't turn away. But could he triumph over his terror and make his marriage whole once more? Could he finally give Maggie a family for Christmas?
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ua3b6058d-0f17-54e0-a621-9e5508911ae1)
Excerpt (#u812226af-4b48-5854-8497-9e128e978c2a)
About the Author (#u124d510a-a9eb-5ea9-8352-b6423f84cd48)
Title Page (#u5edd0ae6-0cd9-5969-97b1-2590fc53a63a)
Epigraph (#u93d8dc97-f73e-5ef8-81e2-8605980a166a)
Acknowledgments (#u7f316b48-67d4-576e-8e25-419256e347b4)
Chapter One (#ufa082d9f-b0c6-5dff-b1ae-49ed3d3d1978)
Chapter Two (#uc58b28de-1e9f-54cc-a82f-984adfc5ff8f)
Chapter Three (#ua9a1508e-72c5-5064-84ca-2c195e9077dd)
Chapter Four (#u1d0a18d3-2754-5fc9-813c-343e3e7cfe31)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
It was decided.
He and Maggie would be guardians to his orphaned nieces and nephews.
But doubt assailed Trent once again. How would he deal with Maggie?
He’d loved his wife so deeply, and yet he’d been unable to give her what she wanted most children. And that dream had proved more important than their love.
But now she’ll have both, a voice within him whispered. And you can have her back.
Trent ached to be able to forget his anguish in Maggie’s arms. But the day she’d left with tears in her eyes, he’d sworn never again to open his heart to that kind of pain. And never to inflict it on Maggie, either.
Because Trent was afraid.
And he was right to be.
Because now he found he had no idea how to be a loving parent.…
KATE WELSH
A two-time winner of Romance Writers of America’s coveted Golden Heart Award, Kate lives in suburban Philadelphia with her husband of twenty-six years. She has two daughters whose childhood antics often wind up in her stories. Besides her writing career, Kate works part-time as a graphic artist and does administrative work for an international manufacturer.
As a child she was often the “script writer” in neighborhood games of make-believe. Kate turned back to storytelling when her husband challenged her to write down the stories in her head. With Jesus so much a part of her life, Kate found it natural to incorporate Him into her writing. Her goal is to entertain her readers with wholesome stories of the love between two people the Lord has brought together and to teach His truths while she entertains.
A Family for Christmas
Kate Welsh
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.
For God sent not his Son into the world
to condemn the world; but that the world
through him might be saved.
—John 3:16-17
Leona, I couldn’t write a Christmas book and not
think of you. Thank you for all those extra years
you kept me believing in Santa, for the camaraderie
during the Great Tree Hunts and on Christmas Eves
when we couldn’t get to sleep, and for all the years
when making Christmas special for the whole
family couldn’t have been easy but you did it
anyway. Most of all, thanks for being my big sister.
Oh, and I hope you appreciate that the painting gets
finished before Thanksgiving. Ain’t fiction great!
Chapter One (#ulink_082f1266-3af2-565b-b6fc-c8320b0126fb)
“There’s a Mr. Edward Hanson to see you, Mrs. Osborne. He says it’s urgent that he speak to you.”
Maggie stared at her secretary. What could Trent’s lawyer have to say that would be urgent? Hope flared to life in her heart. Could this be the Lord’s answer to prayer? she wondered. Had Trent rethought the idea of divorce as she’d begged him to do?
The flame of hope flickered and dimmed a bit. Were that the case, Trent would have come himself. Just last week hadn’t he said he wouldn’t change his mind? He’d even asked her not to contact him again. He’d reminded her that he was dating. He was marvelously happy with his life the way it was. The past was past, he’d said. His future lay ahead.
Without her.
And losing him was all her fault.
“Show him in, Connie.” She forced a smile, her heartache too personal to share with a co-worker.
“Oh…okay,” Connie said, clearly surprised at the break in policy.
Having cut her hours, Maggie’s appointments were carefully scheduled now. Forty to forty-five hours a week. That was all she’d ever give to a career again.
Maggie watched Connie’s wide retreating back for a few short seconds, then she closed her eyes. Please Lord. Let this be good news. Bless my marriage. Bring Trent back to me.
Maggie stood to greet Ed Hanson. His sandy hair was in its usual disarray, his jacket wrinkled as always. He was a man she’d once considered a friend, though he’d been Trent’s friend since childhood. And like most of their friends, he had chosen sides in the divorce—Trent’s side.
“Ed, good to see you. Won’t you have a seat? Can Connie get you something? A cup of coffee? Iced tea or a soft dri—” Maggie’s breath hitched in her throat when she saw the desolate expression in Ed’s pale blue eyes. Her hand came up to cover her heart. “What’s wrong? Is it Trent? Has something happened to him?”
Ed shook his head. “It’s Sarah and Michael. And the kids. They were on vacation.”
“Yes, I know. Sarah and Michael have remained friends. We attend the same church now. In fact, they—” She stopped. She was babbling. Her heart clenched with fear. “What’s happened?”
This time Ed’s eyes clouded with tears that he blinked back. Maggie instinctively sank into her chair as Ed began his explanation. “They apparently almost made it to their destination. Two more exits and they’d have been fine. But they didn’t make it. Their van was hit by an eighteen-wheeler. The police say the driver fell asleep at the wheel.”
“How badly are they hurt?” Maggie demanded, on her feet once again.
“Sit down, Maggie,” Ed said, his tone sad and frighteningly kind.
“Why?” Her voice shook. “Why must I sit down?”
“Because it isn’t good. Not good at all.” Ed took a slow deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this. Sarah was killed instantly. Michael only lasted an hour.”
“Lord, give me strength,” Maggie prayed, and once again her fledgling faith did give her the strength she needed. She found she could breathe after all, and her heart settled back into her chest as she settled back into her chair. The children. She needed to think of the children and the loss they had suffered. “The children!”
“Calm down. The kids are all alive. Michael even managed to stay conscious long enough to give permission to the hospital to treat them, so there’s no worry there. Mickey has a spinal injury. They won’t know the full extent of it until they finish tests on him. He’s the worst off. Daniel suffered a concussion but he’s conscious and seems to be out of danger. Grace has cuts and bruises and is under observation. Rachel was in the rear of the van and wasn’t even hurt badly enough to be hospitalized. She’s with an emergency care family.”
“Thank you for letting me know in person,” Maggie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Who did Sarah and Michael appoint guardians after Trent and I separated? She never said.”
Ed grimaced. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. They never did change that. You and Trent are still the guardians.”
“But Trent and I—”
“Will be divorced by the end of the year. But Sarah never believed it would happen. She said she was praying Trent would change his mind. I tried to convince her but—”
“Sarah is nothing if not stubborn.” Maggie felt her stomach bottom out. “Oh…was. She was.” Maggie bit back tears and pressed her fingertips tightly against her lips. If she started to cry now she might not be able to stop.
“There are going to be a lot of adjustments for you, Maggie.”
“But Trent isn’t going to change his mind. He doesn’t even want any contact with me.”
“Maggie, you left him.”
“And no one regrets that more than I do. I was wrong, but at the time I saw no other way. I guess I was trying to force him to change his mind about an adoption. But he didn’t, and I doubt he ever will.”
“It isn’t all that unusual,” Ed said, defending Trent. “He doesn’t want to raise someone else’s kids. But Michael believed that if something happened to them, Trent would feel differently about raising his own nieces and nephews. And you know as well as I do that Trent agreed to the guardianship without giving it any thought at all. The chance of something happening to both of them was one in a million. And Trent thought Michael led a charmed life, that nothing bad would ever happen to him.”
Maggie just stared at him, still stunned. She and Trent were still their guardians? It was all too much to take in. “Where is Trent, and how did he take the news?”
“He’s in Toronto on business. I called him before I came here. He sounded as if he was in shock at first. He’s utterly devastated, Maggie. You know how important Michael was to him. He’s flying to Florida as soon as he can get a flight. I don’t know when that will be.”
She thought of Sarah and Michael’s parents, of their loss. “Have Nancy and Albertine and Royce Osborne been told?”
Ed’s eyes shifted away. “No. I’ll tell them on my way to the airport. I’ve got us booked on a flight at six. That gives you about an hour-and-a-half to pack a bag and get to the airport.” Ed stood. “Meet me at Southern Air’s terminal entrance no later than five. Okay?”
Maggie’s first glimpse of Trent was at Mickey’s bedside the next morning. He was holding his eight-year-old nephew’s hand. Trent’s face was in profile, his black hair glinted with blue highlights in the sunlight from a nearby window. She stood there just feasting on his face, remembering the wonder and excitement of being held in his arms. Then Mickey’s ragged breath drew her attention.
He had tears in his eyes, and, when one fell, Trent reached up with a tissue to dry it before it ran into the boy’s blond hair. “Everything’s going to be all right, Mickey,” Trent was saying. “The doctors said not being able to feel your legs is normal right now. It doesn’t mean anything bad, yet.”
Last night when she’d arrived Mickey had been asleep, and it had seemed cruel to wake him with news of his parents’ deaths. With Trent not yet there, she had elected to wait to tell Mickey the bad news. Rachel had been another story. She’d been released to a foster family and was apparently inconsolable, having seen her mother dead at the scene and her father and brothers and sister taken off in ambulances.
Ed had remained at the hospital, and Maggie had gone to Rachel. Though the woman taking care of the six-year-old had been kind, she’d also been out of her depth trying to console a grief-stricken child. Maggie had calmed Rachel and reassured her. She’d finally lulled her into an exhausted sleep, but it had been a rough night as nightmares of the crash and its aftermath had haunted the small girl. Maggie had only gotten what little sleep she’d had by lying in the tiny twin bed with her.
This morning Rachel had clung to her, so leaving her behind with a stranger had been impossible. With no clear alternative, Maggie had brought her along to the hospital. Ed was now ensconced with Rachel in a waiting room.
“I want Mommy and Daddy. Where are they?” Mickey demanded.
Maggie let only a tiny sound of distress pass her lips, but Trent twisted in his seat and looked at her. His startling blue eyes were so filled with pain and confusion that it nearly broke her already shattered heart into even more pieces.
What do I say? those beloved eyes shouted at her.
Praying for the right words, Maggie walked in and stood behind Trent. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened. Maggie almost removed it, but after a few seconds he seemed to lean into her touch as if he needed her as much as she did him at that moment.
“Mickey,” she said.
The child’s eyes sought hers. “Aunt Maggie, do you know where Mommy and Daddy are?”
Trent moved closer, dropping to one knee near the head of the bed. His height allowed him the same vantage point he’d had before, and he kept hold of Mickey’s hand. Maggie settled into the hard plastic chair Trent had vacated.
“Do you? Do you know where they are?” he asked again.
Maggie nodded, and she saw Trent squeeze Mickey’s hand even more tightly. “Do you remember anything about the accident at all?” she asked.
“I woke up from the ambulance noise. Some man was strapping me into a hard bed thing. Rachel was crying and so was Grace.”
“A very big truck hit the van while you were sleeping. Everybody but Rachel was hurt. I heard Uncle Trent explaining that you can’t feel your legs because your back was injured. Daniel’s head is hurt but he’s doing fine. Grace was cut by glass and she’s doing “fine, too. But Mommy and Daddy were in the front of the van where the truck smashed into you. They were both hurt very badly, and the doctors just couldn’t help them. Honey, Mommy and Daddy have gone to heaven to be with Jesus.”
Tears filled Mickey’s eyes and poured out. His lower lip trembled. “When Pop-Pop Morris went to heaven, I could never see him again. They can’t come back to see me either, can they?”
“No honey, but they’ll be watching you and you’ll always have them right here,” she promised, laying her hand over Mickey’s heart. “We have to think of what’s best for them even though we miss them so very much that it makes us hurt. Because you see, they were both in such terrible pain that Jesus came to take them to heaven where they wouldn’t hurt anymore.”
“Do you think that before Jesus came for them they were as scared as I was ‘til Uncle Trent came to see me?”
Maggie’s eyes met Trent’s. “Oh, yes. But hurt and scared as your daddy was, he was more worried about you children. The last thing he did here on earth was to make sure the doctors knew to take care of all of you, and to call us.”
“Aunt Maggie, is it all right for me to be sad? I’m glad Jesus came for them, but I’m still sad.”
“Yes, honey. That’s just fine. I’m sad sometimes and miss my daddy. But I know Pop-Pop Morris would never want me to stay sad all the time.”
“I’m still scared, too. Who’s going to take care of us now? Who’s going to be our mommy and daddy?”
Maggie smiled, hoping to reassure the child, though all she felt was turmoil and conflict. “We will. Daddy and Mommy made us your guardians. That’s a big lawyer word that means Uncle Trent and I will always be here for you.”
Mickey’s eyes sought out Trent and his hand came up to pat Trent’s cheek. “Thank you for guarding me, Uncle Trent.” Mickey’s big brown eyes blinked, then closed.
Maggie waited a few moments. “He’s asleep, Trent,” she whispered. “Ed wants to talk to both of us.”
Trent let go of Mickey’s hand and stood. He looked down at her, his eyes angry. “That’s fine. But we’d better get a few things straight between us first.”
He turned and stalked to the hall. He was hurting, she reminded herself. Trent always processed hurt into anger. She’d never understood why until meeting his parents. They’d never react to something so subtle as hurt feelings. Hurt was something one was expected not to show, to get over alone and then to forget. However cold anger or righteous indignation were acceptable reactions.
Maggie took a deep breath and prayed for guidance, then stood and followed her husband into the hall.
“You did a great job with him,” Trent said. “I didn’t have a clue how to explain about Mike and Sarah. Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. I just said what I believe and what Michael and Sarah would have wanted him to hear.”
“You were doing fine until you promised him we’d both be there for him. You know that isn’t the way it’s going to be.”
“No. I don’t know that. My name is on those guardianship papers, too. And I have no intention of stepping out of their lives when they need me so much. Any of their lives. Really, Trent, what do you propose we do? Split them up? You take the boys and I’ll take the girls? Increase their loss? Or are you prepared to care for four heartbroken children all by yourself?”
“It isn’t you who’ll be stepping out of their lives. It’ll be me. I’ve told you. I won’t be a father to children who aren’t mine. You left me because I wouldn’t adopt.”
“And I was wrong. I hurt you and I’m sorry, but this is different You love them already.”
“But not like a father would.”
“Michael entrusted you with the most precious gift God ever gave him. His children. How can you turn your back on them? Michael’s children. These kids are your own flesh and blood.”
Trent flinched. “Maggie, we’ve been down this route before.”
“But you love these kids. I’ve seen you with them.”
“You’ve seen an uncle, not a father. I’ll never care for them the way a father should. I know that about myself. Just believe me. Finally. Listen to me!”
Maggie stood in a state of complete shock as Trent marched off down the hall. So many thoughts rushed through her head that she had to steady herself by leaning against the wall. Had that been fear she’d just seen in his eyes? Was it that Trent didn’t want to try loving another person’s child, or was he afraid he couldn’t? But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have explained that to her rather than let his stubborn stand on adoption cause the end of their marriage?
She walked back to the waiting room, still trying to make sense of Trent’s anger. The real reason for his anger was usually something other than whatever appeared to be the cause. She tried to step back from the situation and consider what might be going on in his head, but found she was too close to it.
Trent was an adult, though, and would have to deal with his own problems on his own. He’d said often enough in the past three months that he didn’t want her in his life. She’d have to take him at his word. The children were all that mattered now. She had just been handed the job of single-handedly supplying security for four helpless lives. And Trent had certainly made it clear that he had no intention of sharing that burden.
Deep in thought, she wove her way through the solarium and stood before the glass wall of windows at the far side. She looked unseeingly up at the heavens, trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Trent’s brother was dead. Her best friend Sarah was gone, as well. And their beloved children—their gifts from God, as Sarah and Michael had always called them—were now Maggie’s responsibility. Alone.
“Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie turned from the windows and met Rachel’s troubled gaze. “Yes, pumpkin?”
“I feel sad. I keep thinking Mommy and Daddy are still here. Then I remember the accident.”
“It’ll be that way for all of us, for a while but it will get better and those bad memories will fade.”
“Mommy looked different after the accident happened. Really different. I think the policeman told me a lie. She didn’t look like she was asleep the way he said. Mommy and Daddy aren’t asleep, are they? Being in heaven’s not like asleep, is it?”
Maggie struggled for the right words, then remembered the service when her father had died and Jim Dillon’s explanation of death to the children. Rachel had been a toddler then, so she wouldn’t remember. Digging in her purse, Maggie found the peanuts she’d been given on the plane. “See this?” Rachel nodded. “Can you open it?” Rachel took a peanut and studiously opened it. “Now eat it. Chew it all up and swallow it,” Maggie instructed, then took the empty peanut shell and fit it back together. “It looks the same but something’s different, isn’t it? What’s different?” she asked.
“It’s empty now.” Her golden brown eyes were serious.
“That’s why Mommy looked so different. Because what you saw was like her shell. What Mommy really was—the really important part of her—was on the inside. Just like the peanut. Where’s the peanut now?”
“In my tummy.”
“That’s right. The peanut is inside you. And so are Mommy and Daddy. All the things they were, and did with you, and all that happiness and love, are tucked right inside of you. And that can make you stronger. Just like the peanut nourishes your body, Mommy and Daddy’s memory can nourish your soul All you have to do is close your eyes and remember a happy time. Let’s try it right now. Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”
“We had a picnic yesterday with our ice-cream cones. Daddy was sitting down, and Daniel was running around. He tripped and the ice cream came off the cone and fell right on Daddy’s head. Daddy looked so surprised and so did Daniel. Then Daddy growled and tackled Daniel and rubbed his gooey hair all over Daniel’s shirt, and the cold ice cream got on his tummy. We all just laughed and laughed. Then Mommy acted like they were bad and sent them to the washroom to get clean. It was really funny. Daddy pouted just like Daniel about having to get clean.” In a deep voice Rachel said, “‘Do I gotta? Do I gotta?’” Then she giggled. “He was so funny.” Her dark eyes flew open, and she hugged Maggie about the hips. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Maggie. I really do feel better.”
“I’m glad,” Maggie said and hugged Rachel against her. She smoothed a hand over her long strawberry-blond hair, and fought tears.
“Kids are so resilient,” Ed said as Rachel skipped off to the play area reserved for children in the corner of the large waiting room.
Maggie narrowed her teary eyes and considered Ed. “Why are you here?” she asked, then added, “Really. No more excuses.”
Ed’s dry chuckle vibrated in the room. “Always right to the point, aren’t you? Okay. I’m along because I want to make sure your guardianship is clearly established in Florida. It didn’t sound as if Mickey will be able to be moved to Pennsylvania any time soon.”
“And?” she prodded.
Ed sighed and gestured toward a grouping of sofas and chairs across the room. “Let’s sit down. We need to come up with a strategy in case his parents try something. The least I can do is make sure Michael’s wishes are carried out. He didn’t want those two getting their hands on his kids. He felt so strongly about it that he made me write it in his will.”
“How did his parents take the news of their deaths?” Maggie asked as she settled across from Ed.
“About the way you’d expect. They looked shocked at first, then ‘appropriately’ sad for a few seconds each. Next came the legal questions and annoyance that you and Trent were named guardians.”
“Sounds just like my loving parents,” Trent said from behind them. “What else did they say?” he asked as he walked to stand in front of them.
“That, in light of your separation, of course they would be happy to ‘take the kids off your hands,’ Trent.”
Anger flared in Maggie’s gaze. “Take them off Trent’s hands! I guess they knew their oldest son at least. He doesn’t want them. He just told me. And what did they say about me?”
“As far as they’re concerned, you don’t enter the equation. The children aren’t your blood relatives, so the Osbornes feel you have no rights regardless of their son’s will.” Ed fixed Trent with a steely look. “We’re in for trouble if you keep this up, Trent, because your parents will never let Maggie raise those kids alone. Not only should you not continue with the divorce, but I suggest you consider moving into Michael and Sarah’s house. Together.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_a3fc7560-74fa-59d1-a79c-200a8fc117b5)
Trent’s heart thundered, echoing in his head. None of this is happening, his mind screamed. But there was no waking from this living nightmare. Maggie stared up at him, pushing her dark chestnut hair behind her ear, her deep brown eyes wide and expectant. It hurt just being in the room with her, knowing he couldn’t even reach out and touch her, yet wanting—no, needing to. And to have her look at him with so much hope and anxiety nearly destroyed his control
He turned away.
And his gaze came to rest on little Rachel across the room in a play center, rocking the tattered baby doll that had been her constant companion since her first birthday. There she sat, a sweet child, loving that doll as if it were still clean and pretty, fresh from the box. He blinked away sudden burning in his eyes. His parents would destroy that sweetness and throw that “disgraceful thing” in the trash. He knew because he remembered his own fury when one day just after he’d started school his own blue bear had disappeared.
And Mickey. If he didn’t improve, they’d see him as “damaged.” Trent would never forget overhearing his mother railing at Michael’s fourth-grade teacher for suggesting that he was learning disabled. “My son is not damaged! You are just an inferior teacher,” she’d told the woman. And poor Michael had stood there with her, hearing it all and knowing that his teacher was right: he didn’t learn the way the others did. And so he began to view himself as damaged. The trouble started just after that fateful day.
No. His parents wouldn’t be good for these kids. They would destroy them one day—one subtle cruelty at a time. Even he would be better because he understood the damage idle words could cause. And he’d watch everything he said around the children. He would never let down his guard. He knew he’d never find it in himself to be a real father to them, but he would make sure he was never cruel.
So it’s decided, then. He and Maggie would become their guardians together. He turned back into the room. Doubt assailed him once again. How would he deal with Maggie? He’d loved her so deeply, and yet he’d been unable to give her what she wanted most. Children. And so she’d left him. Telling him without words that a long-dead dream was more important than their love for each other.
But now she’ll have both, a traitorous voice whispered. And you can have her back. He suddenly ached to be able to forget his current anguish, in her arms. But the day she’d left with tears in her eyes, he’d sworn never to let her return. Never again to open his heart to that kind of pain. And never to inflict it on Maggie, either.
Because, as hurt as he had been by her decision, he’d known she suffered as well. He’d lived with that pain for years, knowing all the while that it was his fault, that he was keeping her from fulfilling her dreams of having children.
He’d grown up knowing his parents didn’t love him. And it had been fear during those years that had held him back. Fear that, never having received love as a boy, he would not know how to give love to a child. And he’d been right to be afraid, because now he found he had no idea how to be a loving parent.
Trent knew not only how an unloved child felt, but the pain of knowing he’d been adopted and that his real parents hadn’t wanted him, either. He’d also been burdened by the knowledge that his parents didn’t even see him as a part of their family. It was a shame he’d carried nearly his whole life.
He’d been about to enter junior high when he’d come downstairs late one night to raid the refrigerator. He’d heard his parents discussing sending him away to boarding school…
“I just keep looking at Trenton, wondering what to do with him, Royce.”
“There’s only one answer. Ruxley is an excellent school.”
“It seems so unfair, sending him and not Michael. But I can’t let Michael go away. There is simply no way I will.”
“Still, that’s no reason to keep Trenton here,” his father said. “The instructors there will know what to do with a boy like him to bring out all his potential.”
“And who knows what his potential is? His mother and father couldn’t have been Rhodes scholars considering their poor backgrounds.”
“Albertine, it’s too soon to see if heredity or environment will tell with him.”
His mother laughed bitterly. “You don’t need to remind me. Michael is our biological child, and he’s already nothing like either of us.”
“Have you given any more thought to having another child?”
“I spoke with Mother. She believes that only animals have more than two children. She said that even if we were willing to let people know Trenton is adopted, another child would still be out of the question. She’s always thought we were foolish to adopt him, and now she’s gloating.” His mother sighed. “So even though medically having another child is now an option, I’ve decided to just devote my time to Michael.”
“It’s your decision, of course,” his father said, but he sounded annoyed.
His mother typically ignored the censure in her husband’s tone. “Yes, it is. I’ll, of course, leave the decision about Trenton to your discretion. If you want to send him away to Ruxley, then I have no objections, but I won’t hear of it for Michael. It may actually be better for him if we do send Trenton to boarding school.”
“I understand your feelings about Michael. I’ll tell Trenton in the morning.”
“Fine. And Royce, try to present this as an exciting opportunity and not punishment and exile.…”
Trent hadn’t waited to hear more. When his father called him to his study the next day, Trent hadn’t let on that he knew Ruxley was indeed punishment and exile, and not the honor they claimed. And he’d never let them know that he knew about his adoption, fearing that they would then reject him altogether and he would lose Mike from his life as well.
That overheard conversation had been a defining moment in Trent’s life. He’d understood at last why they treated him so differently from his brother. Cold as they were to Mike at times, they’d never sent him away. They’d been there to get him out of scrape after scrape. Of course, Michael had characterized their attention as so intense it was smothering. But at least it had been attention.
They certainly hadn’t smothered Trent. In fact, they hadn’t even bothered to come to his high school, college or graduate school graduations. The day he’d stood addressing his fellow students as Stanford’s valedictorian with no family in the audience, he’d silently vowed that he would never have children. He knew that people usually treat their own children the way they’ve been treated, and he feared he’d do just that.
Then he’d met Maggie. And had fallen head over heels in love with her. He’d loved her so much that he’d fooled himself into believing he’d be able to love a child of that love as much as he did her. But Maggie had been busy establishing her career, and so they’d decided to wait for their first child. For five years Maggie had looked forward to the day when she’d made enough of a name for herself as an interior designer that she could cut her hours and work from home, caring for their baby. The delay, however, had given Trent’s doubts long enough to creep in, and deep inside he’d become afraid again that he wouldn’t know how to love a child. To his shame, he’d been relieved when Maggie had been unable to conceive even with the help of fertility experts. Everything had been working out just fine.
Then she’d brought up the idea of adoption, and panic had overwhelmed him. He had known he’d fail an innocent child as his parents had failed him. He’d told her no—he didn’t believe in adoption. He would not adopt and raise someone else’s child. Though he hadn’t failed some unknown child, he had ultimately failed Maggie and himself. And all because he hadn’t been able to open his heart to her about the real reason for his stand: his shame of being so unlovable to both sets of his parents that no one had loved him as a child. No one had shown him how to love children.
And he’d stood just as firm about reconciliation. Better not to hurt each other again and again over needs and shortcomings neither could change. He’d gone against his every instinct and need by pushing Maggie away when she’d changed her mind about trying again to make their marriage work.
But now there was this—this unbearable tragedy. Mike and Sarah were really gone. He’d just come from viewing their bodies. And now, apparently, his parents wanted the children. Another tragedy in the making.
Trent looked up, his decision suddenly made. He saw Ed looking at him expectantly. “Stop the divorce,” he said. “We’ll put it back together. Maggie and the kids can move into that Victorian monstrosity Sarah talked Mike into, if that’s what you think would look best. But don’t expect me to—”
“Hold it right there, Trent,” Ed interrupted. “I’ll get right on halting the divorce action, but I shouldn’t hear about anything less than complete reconciliation. I need to have a clear conscience if we have to go head-to-head with your parents in court. And in that case, you’d better have a complete family unit to present to the judge. Your parents aren’t so advanced in years that a judge wouldn’t hand those kids over to them if he thought you and Maggie were providing an unhealthy home environment. Take my word for it, living in an armed camp would be construed as unhealthy.”
Trent pursed his lips and nodded, knowing Ed walked a fine line being both his counsel and friend. “I was only going to say not to expect me to be home every night. I’ll have to keep the apartment in the city. Late-night meetings and long drives home aren’t a good combination, especially if you add long workdays and icy streets in the winter.”
“You two can work out the details, but I’d advise you to think about cutting those long hours at least a little. And Maggie, what do you intend to do about your job? Have you thought about it at all?”
“I enjoy my work and the challenge it presents, but I think four children under the age of nine will be challenge enough for some time to come, don’t you?”
Trent couldn’t believe his ears. Maggie loved her job. Even when they’d been trying to have a child of their own, she’d never intended to give up her career completely. “But you worked so hard to get where you are,” he said, not understanding how she could have reached her apparent decision so quickly. “I can’t let you give all that up. You need to think this through. We’ll hire someone to help with the children. Mike and I had a nanny until I went away to school.”
“I’m not averse to hiring someone to help with housework and cooking, but not a nanny. You and your brother hadn’t lost your parents, and considering the ones you had, a nanny was probably the best thing to ever happen to you. These children have lost the most important people in their lives, and they’re going to need all the love and attention they can get for a good long time. I intend to be there to give it to them. It’s a done deal, Trent. I already resigned before I left the office yesterday.”
Trent stiffened. Why didn’t she seem upset by the sacrifice of a career that had taken over a decade to build? Because it isn’t a sacrifice! He’d lost his brother, but she had just been handed everything she’d always wanted on a silver platter. “A house in the country. Children. And me. This is just perfect for you, isn’t it?” he sneered. “A real win-win situation.”
“Trent!” Ed gasped.
Trent lost control of all he’d felt in the past twentyfour hours. Deaf to the outrage in his friend’s voice and blind to the horror written on Maggie’s lovely features, he let it all boil forth—the pain, the anguish, the confusion. “You were awfully sure of what my decision would be regarding Mike’s kids. Suppose I’d decided to take them myself and hire a nanny.”
Pale and shaken, Maggie squared her shoulders. “I wasn’t at all sure what you’d decide to do. I was only sure that I’d do what Sarah and Michael wanted me to do—which was be a mother to their children. Nothing and no one is going to stop me from fulfilling that promise. Not even you. And for the record, both Sarah and Michael were a very important part of my life. I grew up with Sarah as a sister. They were the only friends who stood by me these last months. I’ve lost, too, Trent. You aren’t the only one grieving.”
Ed stood, his anger obvious. “I think I’ll go keep Rachel company. Distract her. Work this out between you. I won’t be surprised if Royce and Albertine sail in here any minute now, so you probably don’t have a lot of time. Trent, you have to find a way to put the past aside and look toward the future. This kind of atmosphere will destroy those kids. And your parents aren’t stupid. They’ll spot any lingering animosity from a mile away and then figure out a way to prove it’s there to a judge. Talk this out…and fast.”
Trent suddenly felt as if the weight of the world were pressing down on his shoulders. He sank into the chair Ed had vacated next to Maggie. Elbows on his knees he stared at his hands. He couldn’t even believe he’d thought those things of Maggie, let alone said them. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of all that had happened, his eyes filled. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“And I’m sorry for all that’s happened,” she whispered. Maggie moved to sit in front of him on a small glass coffee table. She took his hands between hers. He closed his eyes, absorbing the feelings her touch evoked—the comfort, the closeness, the need. He didn’t feel so alone now. “I know how much you loved Michael,” she went on. “And Sarah. And I know it’s terribly hard to deal with us on top of your grief. But we have to. We’re the adults in this situation, and those kids are counting on us. Michael and Sarah are, too.”
Trent nodded. “I know. It’s just so hard to even think clearly right now. I really didn’t mean what I said.”
“It’s true that I’ve prayed and prayed for the Lord to find a way to bring us back together. I told you that just last week, so I can’t deny it. But not like this, Trent. Never like this. Believe me, if living alone on some mountaintop for the rest of my life and never seeing you again would bring those two strolling through that door over there, I’d have started packing yesterday. But life just doesn’t always come with room for bargaining.”
Deeply ashamed of his outburst, Trent nodded. “I truly didn’t mean it. Any of it. You know that, don’t you? I don’t even know why I said it.” He looked up into Maggie’s sad smile.
“You said it because you’re hurting. You only get angry when you’re hurting,” she told him and squeezed his hands. He could almost have sworn he felt strength flow from her to him. “Try to think of them happy in heaven. It’ll help.”
Trent blinked, startled. “You really believe that?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled again in that sad, sort of wistful way, but it was a smile nonetheless. Where did her strength come from?
Could it be from God? “It’s what Mike believed, I know.” Trent stared at their hands but his thoughts were of Mike. He’d gotten deeply into religion and his church. He’d always been a little weak—religion was sort of a crutch, after all. It had changed Mike for the better, though. There was no denying that. What this Jesus thing had done for his little brother was nothing short of a miracle, but Trent didn’t need a miracle. He was intelligent, responsible and a success in the business world. But then, so was Maggie. So how had she gotten sucked into that church of theirs?
“Maybe we don’t have to deal with our situation right now, after all,” Maggie suggested. “For now, let’s just deal with the logistics of the changes we need to make in our lives, and take care of what the kids need.”
Not him for a father, that was for sure, Trent thought. “Maggie, I won’t be a father to those kids. I’m their uncle and I love them like an uncle. I’ll support them financially. I’ll be to them what I always have been, but I won’t try to be their father. I’ll come to the house at night when I can. Spend Saturdays doing the suburban home-owner routine when I’m not away on business. But that’s it. Don’t ask for more. Because more just isn’t in me.”
Maggie took his face between her hands. “You just be the best uncle you know how to be, and it’ll be better than most kids get in a father. I know it’ll be better than what you and Michael had. That’s for sure. And I promise to be here to help any way you need me.”
Trent stared into her eyes, humbled as always. Maggie had always had a bottomless well of confidence in him. In fact, she’d left him because he’d refused to try to live up to her expectations. He hoped she was right. He hoped he could give the kids enough as their uncle. Because he was trapped. And as always, Mike was counting on him.
Grief, stunning and overwhelming, suddenly crashed in on him, crushing him. Maggie’s form blurred as tears filled his eyes. Trent instinctively blinked them back, but something drove him to reach for Maggie, pulling her into his arms. In his grief, he forgot every need having her close would normally elicit. His throat ached. “How can this be happening? How? He always landed on his feet. Why not this time?”
“Really, Trenton,” a female voice interrupted. “Get hold of yourself. You’re making a public spectacle. I thought at least we’d taught you better about that.”
Maggie stiffened, and Trent opened his eyes to stare over her shoulder at the couple in the doorway. So, they’d arrived, just as Ed had thought they would. Both dressed in gray, they looked as impeccable as always. And rigid. And haughty. Not exactly the ideal attributes in parents or grandparents. Rachel’s chatter to Ed stopped, and Trent spit out an oath as he set Maggie away and stood.
“Actually, Mother, showing honest emotions like grief is not generally considered a spectacle these days, and as you can see we have the room to ourselves. We were all family here,” he added pointedly.
“Other than your mother and me, the only family members here are you and the girl,” his father said. “We need to talk without outsiders present.”
Maggie stood as if to leave, but Trent wrapped his arm around her waist. “Maggie is my wife, Father. She is family. My family. And Ed stays because we have nothing to say to either of you unless our lawyer is present”
“Trenton, that is hardly necessary. After all, we are all interested in what is best for the children,” his mother countered.
“That’s why I don’t intend to allow either of you to have any say whatsoever in their futures. That’s what Mike specified in his will, and I intend to see his and Sarah’s wishes are carried out.”
Royce Osborne’s cold gray eyes bored into him, but Trent refused to let him see how much he wished their relationship could be different. He supposed children never stopped wanting their parents’ approval, even years after they stopped trying to win it.
“You can’t hope to win against us in court,” Royce said.
“Why? Ed’s a top-notch attorney. And he wrote an ironclad will.”
“Because you and your wife are about to be divorced. What do you intend to do with the children? Raise them alone? Our lawyer assures us that no court in the land will give those children to a single man with a demanding career.”
Trent frowned. “Alone? Where did you get the idea that I’d even consider raising the children without my wife? Maggie’s already handed in her resignation so she can be with them full time.”
“You’re about to be divorced! Do you intend to split custody? You can’t really believe the court will side with you and allow that?” Royce sneered.
“Actually the divorce is old news. Maggie and I have been talking about a reconciliation for a while, now.” Trent felt Maggie stiffen. It wasn’t really a lie. They had been talking about it for weeks. He’d rejected the idea time and again, but his parents didn’t need to know that.
“I knew she came to see you last week, but from what I hea—” His mother cut herself off midword.
And where would she hear anything about us? Trent wondered. He’d have asked, but as the thought occurred to him Maggie gave a subtle nod toward the other side of the room. Rachel was staring from the play center at them. “I really have no more to say on the subject,” he said at once, seeing Rachel detach herself from Ed and start toward them.
“Uncle Trent!” Rachel called as she ran across the room. “Cindy had a nightmare.” She climbed up on the chair next to him and handed him Cindy, the wellloved baby doll.
His mother gasped and recoiled. “Good heavens I’m surprised the nurses didn’t burn that filthy thing!”
Rachel clamped herself to his waist, and Trent defiantly took the doll and put it on his shoulder, giving it a pat and kiss. Rachel beamed up at him, her big brown eyes alight with gratitude, and took back her lifelong treasure with a huge hug. Without sparing her grandparents more than a glance, Rachel went back to Ed, selecting yet another book on the way.
“She’s completely undisciplined and rude!” his mother gasped.
“Albertine, shouldn’t you be grateful that Rachel has settled down so well?” Maggie asked quietly. “The accident was very traumatic for her, and she spent all of last night in a very bad state.”
“There is no excuse for rudeness. She interrupted adults in the middle of a conversation. I can see you’d be no better at parenting those children than Michael and his wife were. That is precisely why I want a hand in raising our grandchildren.”
Trent had had enough. He pitched his voice low so he’d be sure Rachel couldn’t hear. “That child saw her mother’s dead body pulled from that wreckage. This morning Maggie had to tell her Mike had died as well. I’d think that’s all the excuse she needs to be a little rude. For crying out loud, Mother, she’s six-and-a-half years old!” He paused, wondering if anything he’d said had cracked their icy control. It hadn’t. His parents just stared at him blankly. “Your son is dead,” he tried again. “Can’t you even show emotion over that? Don’t you care?”
Royce narrowed his eyes. “Of course we care but Michael had all but cut us out of. his life since his marriage. I don’t know why it surprised us. He never lived up to his potential. He became an auto mechanic, for pity’s sake. We barely saw him these past years. What did you expect us to feel?”
Trent felt ready to explode, but Maggie’s hand moved over his back—soothing, comforting. “Nothing. I don’t expect you to feel anything. You never have. Why should this be any different? I think you should leave. You don’t belong here,” he told them.
“Trenton—” his mother began.
“Now, Mother.” Trent’s voice was steely. “Or I’m going to make a scene the likes of which will visit you in your nightmares for years.”
“We came to see the children,” Royce demanded.
“The children are awfully fragile right now, Royce,” Maggie warned.
“Maggie’s right,” Trent added. “They are fragile. Too fragile to deal with virtual strangers. Please, just go back home. No good will come from your being here. Someone will let you know what the funeral arrangements are.”
“Since I’m certain they’ll have something to do with those fanatics who meet in that converted barn, we’ll just see you in court,” his father said. Nearly identical frowns in place, they turned as one and left.
Ed approached from the other end of the large room. “Not a pretty sight,” he murmured. “Did that go as badly as it looked?”
Trent sighed. “They won’t be at the funeral, and they’ll see us in court.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_f7ad20ba-ac7e-5608-a7f0-bda07fb8f126)
During the ten years of her marriage, Maggie had been in the company of her in-laws only a handful of times. She knew them to be stiff, formal people. She’d felt uncomfortable with them even though they hadn’t objected to her marriage to Trent. They’d hosted the usual engagement party and rehearsal dinner, and Albertine had attended her bridal shower. But when Michael had fallen head over heels for her maid of honor, Maggie had seen their true colors—the people behind the polite facades they presented to the world. It had been an eye-opener, not a very pretty sight.
Sarah was the daughter of Maggie’s mother’s livein maid. She and Sarah had grown up together. When Maggie had been headed for an exclusive private high school, her father had pulled some strings, donated some money to the school and arranged for Sarah to attend on a scholarship. There wasn’t a day of Maggie’s life when Sarah hadn’t been there—’til now— and back then, they’d been inseparable.
At first, any friend of Maggie’s was good enough for Michael, as far as her in-laws had been concerned. But then Sarah had made the grave error of explaining their lifelong friendship. The Osbornes’ opinion had changed in the blink of an eye on learning that Sarah was the child of a maid.
But Michael had loved Sarah to distraction. He’d agreed to begin attending services with her on Sundays. The change in him had been dramatic, but Maggie hadn’t understood the source of that change back then. She’d thought her friend Sarah was solely responsible. But she’d been wrong. Jesus, working in the life of a misunderstood, angry young man, had sparked the changes.
But whatever the source, Trent had been thrilled when wild, unpredictable Michael had stopped getting into scrapes with the local police that Trent or their parents had to pay his way out of. After a few weeks, Michael had gone to Trent and told him that he wanted to go to school to learn to be an auto mechanic. Trent finally seeing real excitement in his brother’s eyes about learning something, had loaned him the money without a thought. And for the first time in his life Michael had flourished.
A year later, Michael and Sarah had been married at Maggie’s parents’ home, under the same rose trellis where Maggie and Trent had stood a year earlier. Michael had invited his parents even though they didn’t approve of Sarah’s background. And they had attended. But it had been painfully obvious that they’d only gone because they hadn’t wanted their friends to know that Michael’s choice of a bride was causing a rift in the family. But there was a rift. And only now, hearing her in-laws denigrate Michael even in death, did Maggie realize how deep it had gone.
“I’m sorry, Trent,” Ed said with a grimace. “This is one of those times I wish I’d been wrong, but I had a feeling they’d pull something like this.”
Trent grimaced and shook his head. “No. It’s better this way. Now that the other shoe has dropped, we know for sure where it is.”
Maggie dropped her arm from Trent’s waist. “I’m stunned. They’ve always been hard people, and you and Michael haven’t been close to them since before he and Sarah married. But to belittle Michael that way, and in front of one of his children, is unbelievable.”
“And unforgivable. The worst part of the whole thing is that they don’t care about the kids. It’s the appearance that they do that matters to them. And they probably just don’t want me raising them.” Trent looked uncomfortable, as if he’d revealed something accidentally.
“It’s probably more that they don’t want me involved,” Maggie said. “She’s always held my acceptance of Sarah as an equal against me. And did you hear that crack about our church? The one about me being as bad as Sarah at raising them was a little strange, though. How would she know what kind of mother Sarah was? This whole thing is just so unbelievable. If Albertine was always scandalized by the number of children they had, why would she want to raise them? That letter she wrote to Sarah when she heard Grace was on the way was nothing short of cruel. ‘Only animals have more than two children’? When Sarah called and read it to me, she was in tears and Michael was furious.”
Trent frowned but remained silent Trent had been even angrier with his parents than Michael had. Maggie had wondered why then, and wondered again now, noticing his eyes glitter with suppressed fury.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it in case they saved it,” Maggie promised, hoping to change the subject.
Ed’s smile was almost mischievous. “They did, and now I have it. Michael was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He was determined that if something happened to him, Sarah would have plenty of ammunition in case his parents went after custody. And he was sure they would. They blamed Sarah for every step Michael took in a direction that they didn’t approve of.”
“Speaking of the children,” Maggie said. “I think we should go check on them. I haven’t seen Grace or Daniel yet today, and they were asleep when I saw them yesterday. I wonder if the hospital would let Rachel in to see them. I think it would do all of them a world of good to be together. Especially Mickey.”
Trent and Ed needed to sign papers for the release and transportation of Mike’s and Sarah’s bodies back to Pennsylvania, so Maggie took Rachel along with her to see the others. The nurses in pediatrics, who had shuffled patients to put Mickey’s siblings in the room next to him, saw no problem with one more child visiting.
Rachel went immediately to Daniel, who was alone in a crib on the left near the windows. Maggie walked to the other crib where Grace slept on her side, facing into the room, her teddy bear clutched in a death grip. The bandage on Grace’s upper-left arm covered a laceration that would no doubt leave a nasty scar, as would the one on her thigh that had been caused by the flying glass. Amazingly, she hadn’t suffered facial injuries. Maggie looked into her little cherub face and touched her carrot-red curls. Careful not to wake her, Maggie then tiptoed away to Daniel. She could hear grumbling across the room about having been put in a crib like a baby.
And then the hard part began.
“Where are Mommy and Daddy?” he asked.
It had been a long day, Maggie thought at almost midnight, as she tossed the last little outfit into the laundry bag and leaned against the wall. Grace was too young to understand that Mommy and Daddy were in heaven and wouldn’t be back. She’d just wanted her parents, but Maggie’s familiar face had gone a long way toward soothing her and making her feel more secure. Daniel understood a little more and oddly had been more easily consoled. He was nowhere near as aware of the changes ahead as Mickey and Rachel, though.
It was Mickey who worried Maggie the most—and not just because of his medical condition. He was too quiet. Too detached from all that was happening. After a conference with his doctor, Maggie and Trent had decided she would have to remain in Florida with the other children until Mickey could safely be moved to a hospital back home.
By the end of the day, Trent and Ed somehow had found and rented a small furnished house not far from the hospital. Ed had taken Maggie to rent a van which they’d equipped with a car seat for Grace, while Trent had visited with the children.
He was so good with them—teasing smiles out of Grace, reading stories to Rachel and Daniel, and playing board games with Mickey—that Maggie was confused. Why was Trent so sure that he would be a poor father? It simply made no sense.
But whether he was ready for parenthood or not, the children, except for Mickey, had been ready to be released by the end of the day. Grace was badly bruised in addition to the lacerations, and she was cranky and out of sorts. Plus, Maggie was sure Grace felt the tension of the adults who populated her world and was reacting to it.
Grace had finally drifted off about an hour ago, after Maggie spent time rocking her. Trent, meanwhile, had read several stories to Rachel and Daniel, had supplied the requisite extra glass of water and had tucked them in—several times.
And so now it was midnight and all the children were finally settled. Maggie pushed away from the wall, knowing she had one more task to perform. She had to talk to Trent and get him to talk to her. She found him in the living room, staring out the patio doors at the rain.
“I hope this weather doesn’t mean you’ll have a rough flight in the morning. What time do you take off?”
Trent glanced back at her for a second. “Not until ten. The first available flight was at dawn, but I didn’t think it would be good for the kids to have another adult just disappear on them.”
Maggie stared at him. Even she hadn’t thought of that. Trent became more of a puzzle about the children every time he opened his mouth. “Are you too tired to talk awhile?” she asked. “I thought we should formalize some plans.”
Trent turned, his smile bitter. “We’ve been married ten years, Mag. Why not say what you mean? You’ve never had trouble expressing your feelings in the past. I seem to remember several dissertations on my faults that lasted a good long while before you walked out.”
“Fine. Where do we stand?” she asked flatly.
Trent visibly started. “I—I don’t know.”
Maggie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please help me say the right things, Lord. “I shouldn’t have left you, Trent. Both Michael and Sarah tried to tell me that I still loved you too much to start over without you, but I wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t see past the emptiness inside me that called out for a child. Then I left and the emptiness grew. I managed to achieve so many of the goals I thought I wanted—the house in Valley Forge, the reduced hours at work. I found that hole I’d wanted to fill with a child filled with the love of Jesus. Then I found out that even as a single parent I had a chance for a foreign adoption, but the emptiness only got worse because you weren’t there to share it with me.”
Maggie blinked to clear her swimming vision. “I was wrong. I promised you for better or worse, but when worse came along, I folded my tent and walked off. I can’t change what I did. I can only tell you how sorry I am and will be for the rest of my life. I can only tell you that I love you. And that I’d like to try to make it all up to you.”
Trent closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t honestly see how you can.”
Maggie felt the pain of his words in every pore of her body, but she prayed for strength and found it. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. He stiffened at her touch and tears flooded her eyes, overflowing down her cheek, blurring her focus. “Please let me try. Please.”
Narrowing his blue eyes, he stared at her for a long moment. “I don’t know.” He turned and walked away, dropping into the rattan sofa against the far wall of the small parlor. He was silent for several minutes, staring ahead. Then he looked back over at her. In his eyes she saw such stark longing and desire that she gasped, but his clenched teeth and hand said that his need for her still warred with pain and anger. “Why don’t you tell me why I should?” he demanded.
“Because I’ve never stopped loving you. And I think it’s God’s plan that we be together.”
“You left me!” he shouted, his voice breaking, his anguish bursting through the anger.
And that pain—pain she’d inflicted—felt like a knife in her heart. “I know it won’t be easy for either of us, but I think we can salvage our marriage.”
“It was you who decided to scuttle our marriage in the first place.”
Regret had never weighed more heavily on Maggie’s shoulders. She walked to the sofa and sat on an ottoman placed nearby. The hurt and confusion on his face nearly overwhelmed her. How could she have done this to him? “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry for all the arguments before I did. But we have ten years together behind us, and the raising of four children ahead of us. I think those are fourteen pretty good reasons to try again. And you can’t say I only want to try now because of the children. You know I felt this way before the accident. Even before I learned about the foreign adoption possibilities. You know that!”
“And I told you how I felt every time you contacted me.”
Had he decided not to reconcile, after all? She braced herself. “This morning you told Ed you were agreeable to getting back together. Have you changed your mind?”
Trent shook his head. “The kids need both of us to protect them from my parents. I just don’t know how to handle you and me.”
“You could try relying on the Lord. It’s the best way I’ve found to face adversity.”
“I don’t even know what that means. Who is this Lord? A God who cares about us? Who fixes things and changes lives? I sure never met Him at the church I grew up in. He’s a concept I can’t even relate to.”
Maggie nodded. The last she’d heard from Michael, Trent still saw faith as a crutch. At least now he was questioning in his own way. “How about taking it one day at a time? How about looking at me and the kids as a package deal. Please say you’ll move into the house with us. That you’ll be waiting for us when we come back north.”
“I…I’m not sure. I just don’t know if I can. I’m going to have to play it by ear. Like you said. One day at a time.”
Trent stared at the key in his hand. Then at the lock. He’d waited a week since the memorial service and funeral. And he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. The last time he’d talked to Mike, his brother had most of the house torn apart to put in a new climate-control plant. Which meant there was not only no heat or air-conditioning, but no hot water, either. Ed had called to warn Trent that if his parents did sue for custody, a home study would be done on both environments.
One step at a time, he reminded himself, and turned the key. But when he went inside, he wished he could take back that last step. He hadn’t understood: this wasn’t torn apart—it had been demolished. There were almost no walls! What had they been thinking to call this mess a paradise. It sure didn’t look like Paradise Found to him! It was more like Paradise Lost!
Trent closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again. Nothing had changed. Studs. Subflooring. Exposed pipes. Then he remembered the kitchen Mike had mentioned finishing. A bathroom and a room he’d created as a family room from two smaller ones at the back of the house. Mike had begun the project shortly after Maggie walked out on their marriage. How could nearly nine months have gone by since he visited Mike and Sarah at their own house?
He’d seen them often, but at his place. He’d met them at the zoo one day. Had taken them to a lake in Jersey another. But he hadn’t come to their home. Mike had told him the place was torn up, and Trent had used it as an excuse because he was afraid to run into Maggie. Afraid he’d weaken, take her back. Afraid he’d pull her into his arms, kiss her senseless and beg her to forgive him for denying her the children she needed, then never let her go.
Trent shook his head and picked his way through the entrance foyer, past the remnants of a sweeping staircase, and down the hall to the kitchen for which Mike had been so full of plans. He pushed open the leaded-glass swinging door, and stood spellbound.
The room stood like a monument to his brother’s talent. For so long Mike had been told that to work with his hands would be unseemly. Trent didn’t know Mike’s Lord, but he thanked Him just the same, because somehow He’d given his brother the courage to be who he was meant to be. And now Trent understood why Mike and Sarah had named the house Paradise Found.
Black granite counters gleamed. Oak cabinets shone. It was…overwhelming in its beauty. He ran his hands over the cabinets and the frosted leadedglass inserts. He recognized the cabinet doors that framed the glass. On his last visit, just after a particularly nasty fight with Maggie, Mike had shown Trent the prototype he’d just finished. Sarah’s art—bordered by Mike’s.
Tears flooded his eyes. Trent made his way to the kitchen table and dropped his head onto his forearm where it rested on the table. Some minutes later he found himself stroking the surface of the big round oak table. Lifting his head he noticed that it sat in a large alcove with tall windows affording a wonderful view of the woods that bordered the back lawn. Wainscoting, painted taupe, came up to the sill of the windows, and Victorian print paper graced the small amount of wall space left by the windows.
Trent looked back at the surface of the table. He ran his hand over it again, marveling at the smoothness of the hand-rubbed patina. His brother again. Trent had seen it months ago, in pieces and stripped to its nicked surface in Mike’s workshop.
He looked out the window and realized that his brother had created the alcove by bumping the walls out into the back porch. Curious, he went to the door and out onto the porch. The porch hadn’t suffered, but now followed the four walls of the interior alcove. The bump-out caused the porch roof to form a mini turret. Like most of the house, the porch wasn’t finished. But Trent could visualize exactly what Mike had planned.
And plans reminded him of Mike’s workshop in the old carriage house. He jumped down off the unfinished back porch and headed that way, but he hesitated once he reached the threshold, not sure he could take many more haunting memories. Trent looked back at the house and the new, unpainted wood of the porch. Resolutely he turned and unlocked the workshop door.
The memories came at once. Painful, poignant and wonderful, they flooded in. The odor of newly planed wood. The smell of Sarah’s soldering gun. Mike, his safety glasses perched on his head, grinning over the floor plans. Sarah, tossing a wad of paper at Mike in retaliation for his incessant teasing, her sweet loving smile shining in her eyes.
He glanced at those same sparkling eyes in the picture on one of the shelves above Mike’s workbench. It was a candid shot of the four of them that had been taken on Mike and Sarah’s wedding day. A day that had almost not happened, thanks to his parents.
They’d been horrified when Sarah had innocently revealed that she wasn’t Maggie’s neighbor but that they’d lived on the same property—Maggie in the main house and Sarah as the daughter of the maid in the apartment over the carriage house. Seeing Sarah as a lower-class influence on Michael, they’d tried to pay her to get out of Michael’s life.
Trent would never forget the day he’d opened his door to find Sarah, pale and shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, the check still clutched convulsively in her hand. Trent had shouted for Maggie immediately and had called Mike to come to their apartment. And nothing had been the same between either the two sons and their parents since.
Mike had moved in with him and Maggie for a while, and later Trent had become Mike’s silent partner in an auto garage that catered to luxury cars and their owners. It had been a great joke between him and his brother that growing up with parents like theirs had ensured the business’s success by teaching Mike exactly how to deal with the finicky demands of many of the Main-Line’s wealthy residents.
Trent shook his head as he stared at those four smiling faces. They all looked so happy—and they had been. But now everything was different. It was hard to think of them as gone. The workshop felt as if they were still there.
And so did the house, he realized, and glanced at the slot next to the picture. The floor plans Mike had drawn up were where he’d always kept them. Pulling them out of the cubbyhole, Trent watched his hand shake. He unrolled them and found more there than just the blueprints he’d seen before. Every idea and plan Mike and Sarah had decided on was cataloged. Wallpaper swatches, paint colors, quantities needed and estimated costs—all were there.
An hour later the house had taken shape in Trent’s mind.
The monstrosity no longer seemed that, he realized, but another page in the unfinished book that his brother’s life had become when an overtired trucker had driven on into the night instead of pulling over. And like the raising of Mike’s kids, it was another thing Trent knew he would see through to its finish. He owed that to Mike, the one person who had loved him unconditionally.
With that thought, another devastating one occurred to him. “Maybe I should have given him a chance. Maybe if I’d told him I wasn’t really his brother, he would have loved me anyway,” Trent said aloud. “Maybe he still would have wanted to be my brother.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_f2b18c2e-f31e-567d-8f22-d4b5ed94415e)
“Aunt Maggie,” Rachel said, “are we really going to leave Mickey here? Why can’t he come home with us?”
Maggie glanced at Rachel in the rearview mirror of the rental van she’d picked up at the airport. “Mickey’s going to be fine at Shriners. You saw all the other kids. He’ll have lots of company and get the therapy he needs. We can come visit, and before you know it, he’ll be home with us, driving you crazy the way he used to.”
“I love you, Aunt Maggie, but I wish it could be like it used to be. I even prayed for it a few times, but I know it can’t happen.”
You aren’t the only one praying for the impossible, Maggie thought. “I love you, too, sweetheart, and I understand how you feel.”
Two weeks had settled the two younger children into a secure routine with her, but Rachel and Mickey were having a tougher time adjusting. Rachel, at least, talked about her grief and loss. Not so Mickey. He was still silent and deeply depressed.
“Will Uncle Trent be at our house?” Rachel asked from behind her.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” she said, and forced what she hoped was a confident-looking smile. In truth, she had no clue where Trent was. She’d been unable to reach him to tell him they were returning. She’d left message after message on his answering machine at home and on his voice mail at work but he hadn’t gotten in touch with her. By late yesterday she’d swallowed her pride and called his secretary’s extension. Ellen told her that he’d taken a few days off, that her orders were not to disturb him unless it was a dire emergency, and that Maggie should be able to reach him at his home. But he wasn’t at the condo. Or else he wasn’t answering the phone when Maggie was the caller.
And this after two weeks of silence.
She’d heard nothing directly from him. She’d returned, not knowing his decision regarding their marriage. And, of course, he had no idea at all that she and the children were back. Which left Maggie alone with three children to face the house and its memories. She had no idea how they’d react.
“There’s the river down there,” Daniel shouted. “Does that mean we’re on the Sure-kill?”
“Yes, this is the Sckuykill Expressway.”
“Uncle Trent calls it the Sure-kill Distressway,” Rachel added, “but I don’t think it’s so funny anymore.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t, either,” Maggie said, then gritted her teeth. Uncle Trent again. Children were so easy to read. Rachel and Daniel and even Grace in her limited capacity had talked incessantly about their uncle in the last several days. His absence was clearly noted, and it just as clearly caused worry. He’d checked in on Mickey, calling to talk to the boy’s doctors and Mickey himself every other day, but there’d been not a word for Maggie.
He didn’t return her calls, either. When the offers of help had come from the Shriners organization for Mickey to enter their new facility in North Philadelphia, and from Angel Flight East for their transportation, she’d called Trent all weepy and grateful. It had been such a weight off her shoulders and such a tremendous answer to desperate prayer that she hadn’t been able to help the frequent breaks in her voice. All he had done in response was to say a few stiff words, and to contact the Florida doctors to help coordinate Mickey’s eventual move.
Didn’t he realize the strain all this had been? Maybe not, a quiet voice argued. She certainly hadn’t understood what it would take to just start her day at seven making breakfast. After feeding and dressing three children, it was off to the hospital. And even that was complicated. She had to shepherd all the children to the car, get two buckled in their seats and Grace in her safety seat, then drive to the hospital. In the parking lot, it started all over again. The walk into and through the hospital, keeping track of them, was complicated as well. And now after two weeks alone, she was tired and scared that it might continue that way for the foreseeable future.
And what would she face when she reached the house? When she’d been there last month, the kitchen had looked like a war zone, but Michael had done wonders by her last visit, a week before they left on vacation. It was just that the house needed so much more. Maggie had never understood how Sarah had kept her sanity while dealing with a house that looked for all the world as if it were in the middle of being torn down.
“Aunt Maggie, do you know about the water?” Daniel asked.
Maggie started at the sound of his voice. “The water in the river?” she asked.
“No, silly, the water at our house. You said we were still going to live there, right?”
“We’re almost there. What about the water?”
Rachel sighed. “It was just that Daddy didn’t know. But Mommy wasn’t mad,” she was quick to reassure Maggie.
Maggie didn’t feel reassured. Instead she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Daddy didn’t know what?”
“About the old heater. We just camped. You know.”
Maggie didn’t camp. Had never ever wanted to camp. Couldn’t imagine anything worse than camping with little children all under the age of nine. “Camped?”
Was that a squeak in her voice?
“Yeah, like when we go camping and Mommy and Daddy cook the water for dishes. We have to cook it at home, too. Just like camping! But just ‘til the new heater is hooked up, Daddy said.”
“Sarah, you were amazing,” Maggie whispered, and prayed for strength.
The house came into sight just then. It sat high on a rise at the end of a drive that was several hundred yards long; it seemed to peer imperiously down the hill at them through two eyebrow windows cut into the roof. Michael had called the house a “grand old lady.” To Maggie, the peeling paint and half-finished porches made it look more like a derelict. But although the house looked less than inviting to her, it was home to these children, and Maggie would do nothing to change their perceptions of it.
She stopped the van in front and started to set the brake.
“Um, Aunt Maggie,” Rachel said, her voice hesitant, “I think maybe we should go in the back door.”
Maggie hated to ask the obvious question, but it just seemed to pop out anyway. “Why?”
“’Cause Daddy finished undoing the front of the house.”
Maggie gulped. “Undoing?”
“The old walls and the floors,” Rachel answered.
“And the steps,” Daniel chirped. “Don’t forget he pulled down the old rickety steps.”
Don’t jump to conclusions, Mag old girl They’re only little. They probably don’t mean it the way it sounds. Besides, you were here a week before they left. And anyway, he couldn’t have taken out the heater, taken down the walls and stairs and torn out the floors. There’d be nothing left! He couldn’t! Could he?
Maggie forced herself to put the car in park and to stomp down on the parking brake. “I only have a front door key, kids. It’s this way or the highway.”
“We were just on a bunch of highways,” Daniel complained. “I want to get out and ride my Big Wheel”
Maggie chuckled as she turned off the car. “That’s sort of an old expression my grandfather used. ‘It’s my way or the highway,’ he always said.”
“What’s it mean?” Daniel demanded.
Maggie shrugged. “This way or forget it, I guess,” she said, a little distracted as she unbuckled Grace from her car seat.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he grumbled. “Why are big people always using old sayings that don’t mean what they say they do? I think it’s a ‘spiracy to keep kids from being too smart.”
“Oh, no. Here we go again,” Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes.
Too late Maggie remembered Daniel’s penchant for needing to know the literal meaning in everything he heard. “We’ll sort it out later, Daniel Right now Grace needs a nap, and I think you could use a little lie-down, too.”
Grace perked up, and her eyes opened from their half-mast position. “Not tired,” she chirped, then ruined her lively pretense with a wide yawn.
Maggie tapped Grace’s little nose. “Careful before you catch a fly in that mouth.”
“Where’s a fly?” Daniel asked.
Maggie laughed and changed the subject. “Let’s get a move on, everybody. Into the house. We’ll worry about the luggage later.”
They proceeded as always with the routine Sarah had used, and which Maggie had adopted. She took Grace’s hand, Rachel took Daniel’s and they walked across the yard, up the steps and up to the front door. Maggie unlocked the door, opened it and peeked in. She stifled a gasp.
Rachel and Daniel had been alarmingly close in their description of Michael’s latest demolition. The only thing left of the interior front of the house were studs, subflooring and the central staircase horses. Wires hung everywhere. There were holes here and there in the subflooring. She couldn’t take the children in there! It was a minefield.
Maggie felt Rachel tug on her sleeve. “You want me to go and open the door? Mickey did it for Mommy. I’ll be careful and not touch a thing, and I’ll watch out for the holes.”
Just then, however, the door from the kitchen pushed open and a man in jeans and a dark T-shirt came toward them. Dust motes floated in the sunlight between them. “Maggie? What are you guys doing here?”
Maggie squinted. The voice was Trent’s, but it couldn’t be him. He walked closer, and she backed up onto the porch. It was, of course, Trent, but his black hair was dusty and mussed. There were streaks of dirt on his shirt and jeans and on his forehead behind an errant lock. Maggie had never seen him so disheveled. Or so masculine. If this was indeed Trent, he should have gotten into jeans and T-shirts years ago.
“Trent?” she said foolishly, forgetting that she was supposed to be angry at him.
He followed her gaze to his clothes and shrugged. “They’re Mike’s. I didn’t have anything to do this sort of work in.”
“’This sort of work’?”
“I was putting in a new hot-water heater. It’s all set.”
His smile was boyish as if he were showing off a school project. Trent had put in a water heater? Maggie should have been relieved. There’d be hot water after all. But she knew Trent. Lord, she prayed, tell me what to say.
“By yourself?” she asked, trying to keep a neutral tone, still not sure whether to be proud or horrified. This was Trent. The same Trent who had tried to fix a leaking pipe in their first apartment with a wad of chewing gum.
“Yeah. And it wasn’t too bad. Mike has the most incredible set of how-to books. I wanted to get more done before you got back. Why are you here? Why didn’t you warn me? I could have met you at the airport. Is Mickey at Shriners already?”
If you’d called me even once in the last two weeks, you might know. She glanced at the children taking in their whole conversation and guarded her tongue. “He’s all settled in. He still isn’t bouncing back emotionally but he was ready to travel, so I decided it was time to come home. I left messages with our flight number on your answering machine and your voice mail. I even called Ellen. She said you were at home, but I didn’t think of calling here.” I didn’t know to call here, she added silently.
Trent glanced at the children. Did he seem nervous? “Well, this is my home now too, right? I guess I should have had the phone company forward my calls here. You should do the same with your house.”
“Uncle Trent, why did you have a different house from Aunt Maggie?”
“’Cause they’re getting a divorce,” Rachel informed Daniel. “Mommy explained all about it to me. But if Uncle Trent’s moving here with us, how will you get divorced, Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie’s gaze flew to Trent’s. “We’re not,” Maggie said with false cheer. “Uncle Trent and I have been talking about getting back together. We sort of canceled the divorce. We’re going to be your guardians together. Remember? We talked about this.”
“But Uncle Trent never called us. He called Mickey. We thought he didn’t care about us. I’m just a girl and so is Grace.”
“And I’m just a little kid,” Daniel added.
Now she knew she wasn’t imagining Trent’s fear of these children; there was such stark terror in the depths of his gaze that her heart shuddered. Then Trent dropped to one knee. Guilt had replaced the terror. “I love you all very much. I’m sorry you misunderstood. I didn’t think how you’d feel not hearing from me. I’m so sorry. I was very upset by what happened to your daddy and mommy, and when I’m upset I work to help me forget. Unfortunately, that means I also forget things I shouldn’t.”
Rachel nodded sagely. “I heard Daddy say that to Mommy. He said you were sad about losing Aunt Maggie so you were working too much. It sounded very silly to me. You should have just asked us. Aunt Maggie wasn’t really lost at all, cause we knew where she was all the time.”
Trent looked up at Maggie. Two bright flags of red had appeared on his cheekbones. Rachel with her out-of-the-mouths-of-babes wisdom had clearly exposed a truth he’d rather have kept to himself.
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Kate Welsh
THE CHILDREN OF HIS HEARTTrenton Osborne knew that his beloved wife, Maggie, was made for raising little ones. But Trent secretly, desperately, feared failing at fatherhood. So even with Christmas coming and ten years of marriage at stake, he had to let Maggie go….But on the brink of their divorce, like a gift from God, four orphaned children entered their lives and their hearts. Watching Maggie instantly open her arms to his nieces and nephews, Trent himself couldn't turn away. But could he triumph over his terror and make his marriage whole once more? Could he finally give Maggie a family for Christmas?
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ua3b6058d-0f17-54e0-a621-9e5508911ae1)
Excerpt (#u812226af-4b48-5854-8497-9e128e978c2a)
About the Author (#u124d510a-a9eb-5ea9-8352-b6423f84cd48)
Title Page (#u5edd0ae6-0cd9-5969-97b1-2590fc53a63a)
Epigraph (#u93d8dc97-f73e-5ef8-81e2-8605980a166a)
Acknowledgments (#u7f316b48-67d4-576e-8e25-419256e347b4)
Chapter One (#ufa082d9f-b0c6-5dff-b1ae-49ed3d3d1978)
Chapter Two (#uc58b28de-1e9f-54cc-a82f-984adfc5ff8f)
Chapter Three (#ua9a1508e-72c5-5064-84ca-2c195e9077dd)
Chapter Four (#u1d0a18d3-2754-5fc9-813c-343e3e7cfe31)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
It was decided.
He and Maggie would be guardians to his orphaned nieces and nephews.
But doubt assailed Trent once again. How would he deal with Maggie?
He’d loved his wife so deeply, and yet he’d been unable to give her what she wanted most children. And that dream had proved more important than their love.
But now she’ll have both, a voice within him whispered. And you can have her back.
Trent ached to be able to forget his anguish in Maggie’s arms. But the day she’d left with tears in her eyes, he’d sworn never again to open his heart to that kind of pain. And never to inflict it on Maggie, either.
Because Trent was afraid.
And he was right to be.
Because now he found he had no idea how to be a loving parent.…
KATE WELSH
A two-time winner of Romance Writers of America’s coveted Golden Heart Award, Kate lives in suburban Philadelphia with her husband of twenty-six years. She has two daughters whose childhood antics often wind up in her stories. Besides her writing career, Kate works part-time as a graphic artist and does administrative work for an international manufacturer.
As a child she was often the “script writer” in neighborhood games of make-believe. Kate turned back to storytelling when her husband challenged her to write down the stories in her head. With Jesus so much a part of her life, Kate found it natural to incorporate Him into her writing. Her goal is to entertain her readers with wholesome stories of the love between two people the Lord has brought together and to teach His truths while she entertains.
A Family for Christmas
Kate Welsh
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.
For God sent not his Son into the world
to condemn the world; but that the world
through him might be saved.
—John 3:16-17
Leona, I couldn’t write a Christmas book and not
think of you. Thank you for all those extra years
you kept me believing in Santa, for the camaraderie
during the Great Tree Hunts and on Christmas Eves
when we couldn’t get to sleep, and for all the years
when making Christmas special for the whole
family couldn’t have been easy but you did it
anyway. Most of all, thanks for being my big sister.
Oh, and I hope you appreciate that the painting gets
finished before Thanksgiving. Ain’t fiction great!
Chapter One (#ulink_082f1266-3af2-565b-b6fc-c8320b0126fb)
“There’s a Mr. Edward Hanson to see you, Mrs. Osborne. He says it’s urgent that he speak to you.”
Maggie stared at her secretary. What could Trent’s lawyer have to say that would be urgent? Hope flared to life in her heart. Could this be the Lord’s answer to prayer? she wondered. Had Trent rethought the idea of divorce as she’d begged him to do?
The flame of hope flickered and dimmed a bit. Were that the case, Trent would have come himself. Just last week hadn’t he said he wouldn’t change his mind? He’d even asked her not to contact him again. He’d reminded her that he was dating. He was marvelously happy with his life the way it was. The past was past, he’d said. His future lay ahead.
Without her.
And losing him was all her fault.
“Show him in, Connie.” She forced a smile, her heartache too personal to share with a co-worker.
“Oh…okay,” Connie said, clearly surprised at the break in policy.
Having cut her hours, Maggie’s appointments were carefully scheduled now. Forty to forty-five hours a week. That was all she’d ever give to a career again.
Maggie watched Connie’s wide retreating back for a few short seconds, then she closed her eyes. Please Lord. Let this be good news. Bless my marriage. Bring Trent back to me.
Maggie stood to greet Ed Hanson. His sandy hair was in its usual disarray, his jacket wrinkled as always. He was a man she’d once considered a friend, though he’d been Trent’s friend since childhood. And like most of their friends, he had chosen sides in the divorce—Trent’s side.
“Ed, good to see you. Won’t you have a seat? Can Connie get you something? A cup of coffee? Iced tea or a soft dri—” Maggie’s breath hitched in her throat when she saw the desolate expression in Ed’s pale blue eyes. Her hand came up to cover her heart. “What’s wrong? Is it Trent? Has something happened to him?”
Ed shook his head. “It’s Sarah and Michael. And the kids. They were on vacation.”
“Yes, I know. Sarah and Michael have remained friends. We attend the same church now. In fact, they—” She stopped. She was babbling. Her heart clenched with fear. “What’s happened?”
This time Ed’s eyes clouded with tears that he blinked back. Maggie instinctively sank into her chair as Ed began his explanation. “They apparently almost made it to their destination. Two more exits and they’d have been fine. But they didn’t make it. Their van was hit by an eighteen-wheeler. The police say the driver fell asleep at the wheel.”
“How badly are they hurt?” Maggie demanded, on her feet once again.
“Sit down, Maggie,” Ed said, his tone sad and frighteningly kind.
“Why?” Her voice shook. “Why must I sit down?”
“Because it isn’t good. Not good at all.” Ed took a slow deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this. Sarah was killed instantly. Michael only lasted an hour.”
“Lord, give me strength,” Maggie prayed, and once again her fledgling faith did give her the strength she needed. She found she could breathe after all, and her heart settled back into her chest as she settled back into her chair. The children. She needed to think of the children and the loss they had suffered. “The children!”
“Calm down. The kids are all alive. Michael even managed to stay conscious long enough to give permission to the hospital to treat them, so there’s no worry there. Mickey has a spinal injury. They won’t know the full extent of it until they finish tests on him. He’s the worst off. Daniel suffered a concussion but he’s conscious and seems to be out of danger. Grace has cuts and bruises and is under observation. Rachel was in the rear of the van and wasn’t even hurt badly enough to be hospitalized. She’s with an emergency care family.”
“Thank you for letting me know in person,” Maggie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Who did Sarah and Michael appoint guardians after Trent and I separated? She never said.”
Ed grimaced. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. They never did change that. You and Trent are still the guardians.”
“But Trent and I—”
“Will be divorced by the end of the year. But Sarah never believed it would happen. She said she was praying Trent would change his mind. I tried to convince her but—”
“Sarah is nothing if not stubborn.” Maggie felt her stomach bottom out. “Oh…was. She was.” Maggie bit back tears and pressed her fingertips tightly against her lips. If she started to cry now she might not be able to stop.
“There are going to be a lot of adjustments for you, Maggie.”
“But Trent isn’t going to change his mind. He doesn’t even want any contact with me.”
“Maggie, you left him.”
“And no one regrets that more than I do. I was wrong, but at the time I saw no other way. I guess I was trying to force him to change his mind about an adoption. But he didn’t, and I doubt he ever will.”
“It isn’t all that unusual,” Ed said, defending Trent. “He doesn’t want to raise someone else’s kids. But Michael believed that if something happened to them, Trent would feel differently about raising his own nieces and nephews. And you know as well as I do that Trent agreed to the guardianship without giving it any thought at all. The chance of something happening to both of them was one in a million. And Trent thought Michael led a charmed life, that nothing bad would ever happen to him.”
Maggie just stared at him, still stunned. She and Trent were still their guardians? It was all too much to take in. “Where is Trent, and how did he take the news?”
“He’s in Toronto on business. I called him before I came here. He sounded as if he was in shock at first. He’s utterly devastated, Maggie. You know how important Michael was to him. He’s flying to Florida as soon as he can get a flight. I don’t know when that will be.”
She thought of Sarah and Michael’s parents, of their loss. “Have Nancy and Albertine and Royce Osborne been told?”
Ed’s eyes shifted away. “No. I’ll tell them on my way to the airport. I’ve got us booked on a flight at six. That gives you about an hour-and-a-half to pack a bag and get to the airport.” Ed stood. “Meet me at Southern Air’s terminal entrance no later than five. Okay?”
Maggie’s first glimpse of Trent was at Mickey’s bedside the next morning. He was holding his eight-year-old nephew’s hand. Trent’s face was in profile, his black hair glinted with blue highlights in the sunlight from a nearby window. She stood there just feasting on his face, remembering the wonder and excitement of being held in his arms. Then Mickey’s ragged breath drew her attention.
He had tears in his eyes, and, when one fell, Trent reached up with a tissue to dry it before it ran into the boy’s blond hair. “Everything’s going to be all right, Mickey,” Trent was saying. “The doctors said not being able to feel your legs is normal right now. It doesn’t mean anything bad, yet.”
Last night when she’d arrived Mickey had been asleep, and it had seemed cruel to wake him with news of his parents’ deaths. With Trent not yet there, she had elected to wait to tell Mickey the bad news. Rachel had been another story. She’d been released to a foster family and was apparently inconsolable, having seen her mother dead at the scene and her father and brothers and sister taken off in ambulances.
Ed had remained at the hospital, and Maggie had gone to Rachel. Though the woman taking care of the six-year-old had been kind, she’d also been out of her depth trying to console a grief-stricken child. Maggie had calmed Rachel and reassured her. She’d finally lulled her into an exhausted sleep, but it had been a rough night as nightmares of the crash and its aftermath had haunted the small girl. Maggie had only gotten what little sleep she’d had by lying in the tiny twin bed with her.
This morning Rachel had clung to her, so leaving her behind with a stranger had been impossible. With no clear alternative, Maggie had brought her along to the hospital. Ed was now ensconced with Rachel in a waiting room.
“I want Mommy and Daddy. Where are they?” Mickey demanded.
Maggie let only a tiny sound of distress pass her lips, but Trent twisted in his seat and looked at her. His startling blue eyes were so filled with pain and confusion that it nearly broke her already shattered heart into even more pieces.
What do I say? those beloved eyes shouted at her.
Praying for the right words, Maggie walked in and stood behind Trent. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened. Maggie almost removed it, but after a few seconds he seemed to lean into her touch as if he needed her as much as she did him at that moment.
“Mickey,” she said.
The child’s eyes sought hers. “Aunt Maggie, do you know where Mommy and Daddy are?”
Trent moved closer, dropping to one knee near the head of the bed. His height allowed him the same vantage point he’d had before, and he kept hold of Mickey’s hand. Maggie settled into the hard plastic chair Trent had vacated.
“Do you? Do you know where they are?” he asked again.
Maggie nodded, and she saw Trent squeeze Mickey’s hand even more tightly. “Do you remember anything about the accident at all?” she asked.
“I woke up from the ambulance noise. Some man was strapping me into a hard bed thing. Rachel was crying and so was Grace.”
“A very big truck hit the van while you were sleeping. Everybody but Rachel was hurt. I heard Uncle Trent explaining that you can’t feel your legs because your back was injured. Daniel’s head is hurt but he’s doing fine. Grace was cut by glass and she’s doing “fine, too. But Mommy and Daddy were in the front of the van where the truck smashed into you. They were both hurt very badly, and the doctors just couldn’t help them. Honey, Mommy and Daddy have gone to heaven to be with Jesus.”
Tears filled Mickey’s eyes and poured out. His lower lip trembled. “When Pop-Pop Morris went to heaven, I could never see him again. They can’t come back to see me either, can they?”
“No honey, but they’ll be watching you and you’ll always have them right here,” she promised, laying her hand over Mickey’s heart. “We have to think of what’s best for them even though we miss them so very much that it makes us hurt. Because you see, they were both in such terrible pain that Jesus came to take them to heaven where they wouldn’t hurt anymore.”
“Do you think that before Jesus came for them they were as scared as I was ‘til Uncle Trent came to see me?”
Maggie’s eyes met Trent’s. “Oh, yes. But hurt and scared as your daddy was, he was more worried about you children. The last thing he did here on earth was to make sure the doctors knew to take care of all of you, and to call us.”
“Aunt Maggie, is it all right for me to be sad? I’m glad Jesus came for them, but I’m still sad.”
“Yes, honey. That’s just fine. I’m sad sometimes and miss my daddy. But I know Pop-Pop Morris would never want me to stay sad all the time.”
“I’m still scared, too. Who’s going to take care of us now? Who’s going to be our mommy and daddy?”
Maggie smiled, hoping to reassure the child, though all she felt was turmoil and conflict. “We will. Daddy and Mommy made us your guardians. That’s a big lawyer word that means Uncle Trent and I will always be here for you.”
Mickey’s eyes sought out Trent and his hand came up to pat Trent’s cheek. “Thank you for guarding me, Uncle Trent.” Mickey’s big brown eyes blinked, then closed.
Maggie waited a few moments. “He’s asleep, Trent,” she whispered. “Ed wants to talk to both of us.”
Trent let go of Mickey’s hand and stood. He looked down at her, his eyes angry. “That’s fine. But we’d better get a few things straight between us first.”
He turned and stalked to the hall. He was hurting, she reminded herself. Trent always processed hurt into anger. She’d never understood why until meeting his parents. They’d never react to something so subtle as hurt feelings. Hurt was something one was expected not to show, to get over alone and then to forget. However cold anger or righteous indignation were acceptable reactions.
Maggie took a deep breath and prayed for guidance, then stood and followed her husband into the hall.
“You did a great job with him,” Trent said. “I didn’t have a clue how to explain about Mike and Sarah. Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. I just said what I believe and what Michael and Sarah would have wanted him to hear.”
“You were doing fine until you promised him we’d both be there for him. You know that isn’t the way it’s going to be.”
“No. I don’t know that. My name is on those guardianship papers, too. And I have no intention of stepping out of their lives when they need me so much. Any of their lives. Really, Trent, what do you propose we do? Split them up? You take the boys and I’ll take the girls? Increase their loss? Or are you prepared to care for four heartbroken children all by yourself?”
“It isn’t you who’ll be stepping out of their lives. It’ll be me. I’ve told you. I won’t be a father to children who aren’t mine. You left me because I wouldn’t adopt.”
“And I was wrong. I hurt you and I’m sorry, but this is different You love them already.”
“But not like a father would.”
“Michael entrusted you with the most precious gift God ever gave him. His children. How can you turn your back on them? Michael’s children. These kids are your own flesh and blood.”
Trent flinched. “Maggie, we’ve been down this route before.”
“But you love these kids. I’ve seen you with them.”
“You’ve seen an uncle, not a father. I’ll never care for them the way a father should. I know that about myself. Just believe me. Finally. Listen to me!”
Maggie stood in a state of complete shock as Trent marched off down the hall. So many thoughts rushed through her head that she had to steady herself by leaning against the wall. Had that been fear she’d just seen in his eyes? Was it that Trent didn’t want to try loving another person’s child, or was he afraid he couldn’t? But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have explained that to her rather than let his stubborn stand on adoption cause the end of their marriage?
She walked back to the waiting room, still trying to make sense of Trent’s anger. The real reason for his anger was usually something other than whatever appeared to be the cause. She tried to step back from the situation and consider what might be going on in his head, but found she was too close to it.
Trent was an adult, though, and would have to deal with his own problems on his own. He’d said often enough in the past three months that he didn’t want her in his life. She’d have to take him at his word. The children were all that mattered now. She had just been handed the job of single-handedly supplying security for four helpless lives. And Trent had certainly made it clear that he had no intention of sharing that burden.
Deep in thought, she wove her way through the solarium and stood before the glass wall of windows at the far side. She looked unseeingly up at the heavens, trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Trent’s brother was dead. Her best friend Sarah was gone, as well. And their beloved children—their gifts from God, as Sarah and Michael had always called them—were now Maggie’s responsibility. Alone.
“Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie turned from the windows and met Rachel’s troubled gaze. “Yes, pumpkin?”
“I feel sad. I keep thinking Mommy and Daddy are still here. Then I remember the accident.”
“It’ll be that way for all of us, for a while but it will get better and those bad memories will fade.”
“Mommy looked different after the accident happened. Really different. I think the policeman told me a lie. She didn’t look like she was asleep the way he said. Mommy and Daddy aren’t asleep, are they? Being in heaven’s not like asleep, is it?”
Maggie struggled for the right words, then remembered the service when her father had died and Jim Dillon’s explanation of death to the children. Rachel had been a toddler then, so she wouldn’t remember. Digging in her purse, Maggie found the peanuts she’d been given on the plane. “See this?” Rachel nodded. “Can you open it?” Rachel took a peanut and studiously opened it. “Now eat it. Chew it all up and swallow it,” Maggie instructed, then took the empty peanut shell and fit it back together. “It looks the same but something’s different, isn’t it? What’s different?” she asked.
“It’s empty now.” Her golden brown eyes were serious.
“That’s why Mommy looked so different. Because what you saw was like her shell. What Mommy really was—the really important part of her—was on the inside. Just like the peanut. Where’s the peanut now?”
“In my tummy.”
“That’s right. The peanut is inside you. And so are Mommy and Daddy. All the things they were, and did with you, and all that happiness and love, are tucked right inside of you. And that can make you stronger. Just like the peanut nourishes your body, Mommy and Daddy’s memory can nourish your soul All you have to do is close your eyes and remember a happy time. Let’s try it right now. Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”
“We had a picnic yesterday with our ice-cream cones. Daddy was sitting down, and Daniel was running around. He tripped and the ice cream came off the cone and fell right on Daddy’s head. Daddy looked so surprised and so did Daniel. Then Daddy growled and tackled Daniel and rubbed his gooey hair all over Daniel’s shirt, and the cold ice cream got on his tummy. We all just laughed and laughed. Then Mommy acted like they were bad and sent them to the washroom to get clean. It was really funny. Daddy pouted just like Daniel about having to get clean.” In a deep voice Rachel said, “‘Do I gotta? Do I gotta?’” Then she giggled. “He was so funny.” Her dark eyes flew open, and she hugged Maggie about the hips. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Maggie. I really do feel better.”
“I’m glad,” Maggie said and hugged Rachel against her. She smoothed a hand over her long strawberry-blond hair, and fought tears.
“Kids are so resilient,” Ed said as Rachel skipped off to the play area reserved for children in the corner of the large waiting room.
Maggie narrowed her teary eyes and considered Ed. “Why are you here?” she asked, then added, “Really. No more excuses.”
Ed’s dry chuckle vibrated in the room. “Always right to the point, aren’t you? Okay. I’m along because I want to make sure your guardianship is clearly established in Florida. It didn’t sound as if Mickey will be able to be moved to Pennsylvania any time soon.”
“And?” she prodded.
Ed sighed and gestured toward a grouping of sofas and chairs across the room. “Let’s sit down. We need to come up with a strategy in case his parents try something. The least I can do is make sure Michael’s wishes are carried out. He didn’t want those two getting their hands on his kids. He felt so strongly about it that he made me write it in his will.”
“How did his parents take the news of their deaths?” Maggie asked as she settled across from Ed.
“About the way you’d expect. They looked shocked at first, then ‘appropriately’ sad for a few seconds each. Next came the legal questions and annoyance that you and Trent were named guardians.”
“Sounds just like my loving parents,” Trent said from behind them. “What else did they say?” he asked as he walked to stand in front of them.
“That, in light of your separation, of course they would be happy to ‘take the kids off your hands,’ Trent.”
Anger flared in Maggie’s gaze. “Take them off Trent’s hands! I guess they knew their oldest son at least. He doesn’t want them. He just told me. And what did they say about me?”
“As far as they’re concerned, you don’t enter the equation. The children aren’t your blood relatives, so the Osbornes feel you have no rights regardless of their son’s will.” Ed fixed Trent with a steely look. “We’re in for trouble if you keep this up, Trent, because your parents will never let Maggie raise those kids alone. Not only should you not continue with the divorce, but I suggest you consider moving into Michael and Sarah’s house. Together.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_a3fc7560-74fa-59d1-a79c-200a8fc117b5)
Trent’s heart thundered, echoing in his head. None of this is happening, his mind screamed. But there was no waking from this living nightmare. Maggie stared up at him, pushing her dark chestnut hair behind her ear, her deep brown eyes wide and expectant. It hurt just being in the room with her, knowing he couldn’t even reach out and touch her, yet wanting—no, needing to. And to have her look at him with so much hope and anxiety nearly destroyed his control
He turned away.
And his gaze came to rest on little Rachel across the room in a play center, rocking the tattered baby doll that had been her constant companion since her first birthday. There she sat, a sweet child, loving that doll as if it were still clean and pretty, fresh from the box. He blinked away sudden burning in his eyes. His parents would destroy that sweetness and throw that “disgraceful thing” in the trash. He knew because he remembered his own fury when one day just after he’d started school his own blue bear had disappeared.
And Mickey. If he didn’t improve, they’d see him as “damaged.” Trent would never forget overhearing his mother railing at Michael’s fourth-grade teacher for suggesting that he was learning disabled. “My son is not damaged! You are just an inferior teacher,” she’d told the woman. And poor Michael had stood there with her, hearing it all and knowing that his teacher was right: he didn’t learn the way the others did. And so he began to view himself as damaged. The trouble started just after that fateful day.
No. His parents wouldn’t be good for these kids. They would destroy them one day—one subtle cruelty at a time. Even he would be better because he understood the damage idle words could cause. And he’d watch everything he said around the children. He would never let down his guard. He knew he’d never find it in himself to be a real father to them, but he would make sure he was never cruel.
So it’s decided, then. He and Maggie would become their guardians together. He turned back into the room. Doubt assailed him once again. How would he deal with Maggie? He’d loved her so deeply, and yet he’d been unable to give her what she wanted most. Children. And so she’d left him. Telling him without words that a long-dead dream was more important than their love for each other.
But now she’ll have both, a traitorous voice whispered. And you can have her back. He suddenly ached to be able to forget his current anguish, in her arms. But the day she’d left with tears in her eyes, he’d sworn never to let her return. Never again to open his heart to that kind of pain. And never to inflict it on Maggie, either.
Because, as hurt as he had been by her decision, he’d known she suffered as well. He’d lived with that pain for years, knowing all the while that it was his fault, that he was keeping her from fulfilling her dreams of having children.
He’d grown up knowing his parents didn’t love him. And it had been fear during those years that had held him back. Fear that, never having received love as a boy, he would not know how to give love to a child. And he’d been right to be afraid, because now he found he had no idea how to be a loving parent.
Trent knew not only how an unloved child felt, but the pain of knowing he’d been adopted and that his real parents hadn’t wanted him, either. He’d also been burdened by the knowledge that his parents didn’t even see him as a part of their family. It was a shame he’d carried nearly his whole life.
He’d been about to enter junior high when he’d come downstairs late one night to raid the refrigerator. He’d heard his parents discussing sending him away to boarding school…
“I just keep looking at Trenton, wondering what to do with him, Royce.”
“There’s only one answer. Ruxley is an excellent school.”
“It seems so unfair, sending him and not Michael. But I can’t let Michael go away. There is simply no way I will.”
“Still, that’s no reason to keep Trenton here,” his father said. “The instructors there will know what to do with a boy like him to bring out all his potential.”
“And who knows what his potential is? His mother and father couldn’t have been Rhodes scholars considering their poor backgrounds.”
“Albertine, it’s too soon to see if heredity or environment will tell with him.”
His mother laughed bitterly. “You don’t need to remind me. Michael is our biological child, and he’s already nothing like either of us.”
“Have you given any more thought to having another child?”
“I spoke with Mother. She believes that only animals have more than two children. She said that even if we were willing to let people know Trenton is adopted, another child would still be out of the question. She’s always thought we were foolish to adopt him, and now she’s gloating.” His mother sighed. “So even though medically having another child is now an option, I’ve decided to just devote my time to Michael.”
“It’s your decision, of course,” his father said, but he sounded annoyed.
His mother typically ignored the censure in her husband’s tone. “Yes, it is. I’ll, of course, leave the decision about Trenton to your discretion. If you want to send him away to Ruxley, then I have no objections, but I won’t hear of it for Michael. It may actually be better for him if we do send Trenton to boarding school.”
“I understand your feelings about Michael. I’ll tell Trenton in the morning.”
“Fine. And Royce, try to present this as an exciting opportunity and not punishment and exile.…”
Trent hadn’t waited to hear more. When his father called him to his study the next day, Trent hadn’t let on that he knew Ruxley was indeed punishment and exile, and not the honor they claimed. And he’d never let them know that he knew about his adoption, fearing that they would then reject him altogether and he would lose Mike from his life as well.
That overheard conversation had been a defining moment in Trent’s life. He’d understood at last why they treated him so differently from his brother. Cold as they were to Mike at times, they’d never sent him away. They’d been there to get him out of scrape after scrape. Of course, Michael had characterized their attention as so intense it was smothering. But at least it had been attention.
They certainly hadn’t smothered Trent. In fact, they hadn’t even bothered to come to his high school, college or graduate school graduations. The day he’d stood addressing his fellow students as Stanford’s valedictorian with no family in the audience, he’d silently vowed that he would never have children. He knew that people usually treat their own children the way they’ve been treated, and he feared he’d do just that.
Then he’d met Maggie. And had fallen head over heels in love with her. He’d loved her so much that he’d fooled himself into believing he’d be able to love a child of that love as much as he did her. But Maggie had been busy establishing her career, and so they’d decided to wait for their first child. For five years Maggie had looked forward to the day when she’d made enough of a name for herself as an interior designer that she could cut her hours and work from home, caring for their baby. The delay, however, had given Trent’s doubts long enough to creep in, and deep inside he’d become afraid again that he wouldn’t know how to love a child. To his shame, he’d been relieved when Maggie had been unable to conceive even with the help of fertility experts. Everything had been working out just fine.
Then she’d brought up the idea of adoption, and panic had overwhelmed him. He had known he’d fail an innocent child as his parents had failed him. He’d told her no—he didn’t believe in adoption. He would not adopt and raise someone else’s child. Though he hadn’t failed some unknown child, he had ultimately failed Maggie and himself. And all because he hadn’t been able to open his heart to her about the real reason for his stand: his shame of being so unlovable to both sets of his parents that no one had loved him as a child. No one had shown him how to love children.
And he’d stood just as firm about reconciliation. Better not to hurt each other again and again over needs and shortcomings neither could change. He’d gone against his every instinct and need by pushing Maggie away when she’d changed her mind about trying again to make their marriage work.
But now there was this—this unbearable tragedy. Mike and Sarah were really gone. He’d just come from viewing their bodies. And now, apparently, his parents wanted the children. Another tragedy in the making.
Trent looked up, his decision suddenly made. He saw Ed looking at him expectantly. “Stop the divorce,” he said. “We’ll put it back together. Maggie and the kids can move into that Victorian monstrosity Sarah talked Mike into, if that’s what you think would look best. But don’t expect me to—”
“Hold it right there, Trent,” Ed interrupted. “I’ll get right on halting the divorce action, but I shouldn’t hear about anything less than complete reconciliation. I need to have a clear conscience if we have to go head-to-head with your parents in court. And in that case, you’d better have a complete family unit to present to the judge. Your parents aren’t so advanced in years that a judge wouldn’t hand those kids over to them if he thought you and Maggie were providing an unhealthy home environment. Take my word for it, living in an armed camp would be construed as unhealthy.”
Trent pursed his lips and nodded, knowing Ed walked a fine line being both his counsel and friend. “I was only going to say not to expect me to be home every night. I’ll have to keep the apartment in the city. Late-night meetings and long drives home aren’t a good combination, especially if you add long workdays and icy streets in the winter.”
“You two can work out the details, but I’d advise you to think about cutting those long hours at least a little. And Maggie, what do you intend to do about your job? Have you thought about it at all?”
“I enjoy my work and the challenge it presents, but I think four children under the age of nine will be challenge enough for some time to come, don’t you?”
Trent couldn’t believe his ears. Maggie loved her job. Even when they’d been trying to have a child of their own, she’d never intended to give up her career completely. “But you worked so hard to get where you are,” he said, not understanding how she could have reached her apparent decision so quickly. “I can’t let you give all that up. You need to think this through. We’ll hire someone to help with the children. Mike and I had a nanny until I went away to school.”
“I’m not averse to hiring someone to help with housework and cooking, but not a nanny. You and your brother hadn’t lost your parents, and considering the ones you had, a nanny was probably the best thing to ever happen to you. These children have lost the most important people in their lives, and they’re going to need all the love and attention they can get for a good long time. I intend to be there to give it to them. It’s a done deal, Trent. I already resigned before I left the office yesterday.”
Trent stiffened. Why didn’t she seem upset by the sacrifice of a career that had taken over a decade to build? Because it isn’t a sacrifice! He’d lost his brother, but she had just been handed everything she’d always wanted on a silver platter. “A house in the country. Children. And me. This is just perfect for you, isn’t it?” he sneered. “A real win-win situation.”
“Trent!” Ed gasped.
Trent lost control of all he’d felt in the past twentyfour hours. Deaf to the outrage in his friend’s voice and blind to the horror written on Maggie’s lovely features, he let it all boil forth—the pain, the anguish, the confusion. “You were awfully sure of what my decision would be regarding Mike’s kids. Suppose I’d decided to take them myself and hire a nanny.”
Pale and shaken, Maggie squared her shoulders. “I wasn’t at all sure what you’d decide to do. I was only sure that I’d do what Sarah and Michael wanted me to do—which was be a mother to their children. Nothing and no one is going to stop me from fulfilling that promise. Not even you. And for the record, both Sarah and Michael were a very important part of my life. I grew up with Sarah as a sister. They were the only friends who stood by me these last months. I’ve lost, too, Trent. You aren’t the only one grieving.”
Ed stood, his anger obvious. “I think I’ll go keep Rachel company. Distract her. Work this out between you. I won’t be surprised if Royce and Albertine sail in here any minute now, so you probably don’t have a lot of time. Trent, you have to find a way to put the past aside and look toward the future. This kind of atmosphere will destroy those kids. And your parents aren’t stupid. They’ll spot any lingering animosity from a mile away and then figure out a way to prove it’s there to a judge. Talk this out…and fast.”
Trent suddenly felt as if the weight of the world were pressing down on his shoulders. He sank into the chair Ed had vacated next to Maggie. Elbows on his knees he stared at his hands. He couldn’t even believe he’d thought those things of Maggie, let alone said them. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of all that had happened, his eyes filled. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“And I’m sorry for all that’s happened,” she whispered. Maggie moved to sit in front of him on a small glass coffee table. She took his hands between hers. He closed his eyes, absorbing the feelings her touch evoked—the comfort, the closeness, the need. He didn’t feel so alone now. “I know how much you loved Michael,” she went on. “And Sarah. And I know it’s terribly hard to deal with us on top of your grief. But we have to. We’re the adults in this situation, and those kids are counting on us. Michael and Sarah are, too.”
Trent nodded. “I know. It’s just so hard to even think clearly right now. I really didn’t mean what I said.”
“It’s true that I’ve prayed and prayed for the Lord to find a way to bring us back together. I told you that just last week, so I can’t deny it. But not like this, Trent. Never like this. Believe me, if living alone on some mountaintop for the rest of my life and never seeing you again would bring those two strolling through that door over there, I’d have started packing yesterday. But life just doesn’t always come with room for bargaining.”
Deeply ashamed of his outburst, Trent nodded. “I truly didn’t mean it. Any of it. You know that, don’t you? I don’t even know why I said it.” He looked up into Maggie’s sad smile.
“You said it because you’re hurting. You only get angry when you’re hurting,” she told him and squeezed his hands. He could almost have sworn he felt strength flow from her to him. “Try to think of them happy in heaven. It’ll help.”
Trent blinked, startled. “You really believe that?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled again in that sad, sort of wistful way, but it was a smile nonetheless. Where did her strength come from?
Could it be from God? “It’s what Mike believed, I know.” Trent stared at their hands but his thoughts were of Mike. He’d gotten deeply into religion and his church. He’d always been a little weak—religion was sort of a crutch, after all. It had changed Mike for the better, though. There was no denying that. What this Jesus thing had done for his little brother was nothing short of a miracle, but Trent didn’t need a miracle. He was intelligent, responsible and a success in the business world. But then, so was Maggie. So how had she gotten sucked into that church of theirs?
“Maybe we don’t have to deal with our situation right now, after all,” Maggie suggested. “For now, let’s just deal with the logistics of the changes we need to make in our lives, and take care of what the kids need.”
Not him for a father, that was for sure, Trent thought. “Maggie, I won’t be a father to those kids. I’m their uncle and I love them like an uncle. I’ll support them financially. I’ll be to them what I always have been, but I won’t try to be their father. I’ll come to the house at night when I can. Spend Saturdays doing the suburban home-owner routine when I’m not away on business. But that’s it. Don’t ask for more. Because more just isn’t in me.”
Maggie took his face between her hands. “You just be the best uncle you know how to be, and it’ll be better than most kids get in a father. I know it’ll be better than what you and Michael had. That’s for sure. And I promise to be here to help any way you need me.”
Trent stared into her eyes, humbled as always. Maggie had always had a bottomless well of confidence in him. In fact, she’d left him because he’d refused to try to live up to her expectations. He hoped she was right. He hoped he could give the kids enough as their uncle. Because he was trapped. And as always, Mike was counting on him.
Grief, stunning and overwhelming, suddenly crashed in on him, crushing him. Maggie’s form blurred as tears filled his eyes. Trent instinctively blinked them back, but something drove him to reach for Maggie, pulling her into his arms. In his grief, he forgot every need having her close would normally elicit. His throat ached. “How can this be happening? How? He always landed on his feet. Why not this time?”
“Really, Trenton,” a female voice interrupted. “Get hold of yourself. You’re making a public spectacle. I thought at least we’d taught you better about that.”
Maggie stiffened, and Trent opened his eyes to stare over her shoulder at the couple in the doorway. So, they’d arrived, just as Ed had thought they would. Both dressed in gray, they looked as impeccable as always. And rigid. And haughty. Not exactly the ideal attributes in parents or grandparents. Rachel’s chatter to Ed stopped, and Trent spit out an oath as he set Maggie away and stood.
“Actually, Mother, showing honest emotions like grief is not generally considered a spectacle these days, and as you can see we have the room to ourselves. We were all family here,” he added pointedly.
“Other than your mother and me, the only family members here are you and the girl,” his father said. “We need to talk without outsiders present.”
Maggie stood as if to leave, but Trent wrapped his arm around her waist. “Maggie is my wife, Father. She is family. My family. And Ed stays because we have nothing to say to either of you unless our lawyer is present”
“Trenton, that is hardly necessary. After all, we are all interested in what is best for the children,” his mother countered.
“That’s why I don’t intend to allow either of you to have any say whatsoever in their futures. That’s what Mike specified in his will, and I intend to see his and Sarah’s wishes are carried out.”
Royce Osborne’s cold gray eyes bored into him, but Trent refused to let him see how much he wished their relationship could be different. He supposed children never stopped wanting their parents’ approval, even years after they stopped trying to win it.
“You can’t hope to win against us in court,” Royce said.
“Why? Ed’s a top-notch attorney. And he wrote an ironclad will.”
“Because you and your wife are about to be divorced. What do you intend to do with the children? Raise them alone? Our lawyer assures us that no court in the land will give those children to a single man with a demanding career.”
Trent frowned. “Alone? Where did you get the idea that I’d even consider raising the children without my wife? Maggie’s already handed in her resignation so she can be with them full time.”
“You’re about to be divorced! Do you intend to split custody? You can’t really believe the court will side with you and allow that?” Royce sneered.
“Actually the divorce is old news. Maggie and I have been talking about a reconciliation for a while, now.” Trent felt Maggie stiffen. It wasn’t really a lie. They had been talking about it for weeks. He’d rejected the idea time and again, but his parents didn’t need to know that.
“I knew she came to see you last week, but from what I hea—” His mother cut herself off midword.
And where would she hear anything about us? Trent wondered. He’d have asked, but as the thought occurred to him Maggie gave a subtle nod toward the other side of the room. Rachel was staring from the play center at them. “I really have no more to say on the subject,” he said at once, seeing Rachel detach herself from Ed and start toward them.
“Uncle Trent!” Rachel called as she ran across the room. “Cindy had a nightmare.” She climbed up on the chair next to him and handed him Cindy, the wellloved baby doll.
His mother gasped and recoiled. “Good heavens I’m surprised the nurses didn’t burn that filthy thing!”
Rachel clamped herself to his waist, and Trent defiantly took the doll and put it on his shoulder, giving it a pat and kiss. Rachel beamed up at him, her big brown eyes alight with gratitude, and took back her lifelong treasure with a huge hug. Without sparing her grandparents more than a glance, Rachel went back to Ed, selecting yet another book on the way.
“She’s completely undisciplined and rude!” his mother gasped.
“Albertine, shouldn’t you be grateful that Rachel has settled down so well?” Maggie asked quietly. “The accident was very traumatic for her, and she spent all of last night in a very bad state.”
“There is no excuse for rudeness. She interrupted adults in the middle of a conversation. I can see you’d be no better at parenting those children than Michael and his wife were. That is precisely why I want a hand in raising our grandchildren.”
Trent had had enough. He pitched his voice low so he’d be sure Rachel couldn’t hear. “That child saw her mother’s dead body pulled from that wreckage. This morning Maggie had to tell her Mike had died as well. I’d think that’s all the excuse she needs to be a little rude. For crying out loud, Mother, she’s six-and-a-half years old!” He paused, wondering if anything he’d said had cracked their icy control. It hadn’t. His parents just stared at him blankly. “Your son is dead,” he tried again. “Can’t you even show emotion over that? Don’t you care?”
Royce narrowed his eyes. “Of course we care but Michael had all but cut us out of. his life since his marriage. I don’t know why it surprised us. He never lived up to his potential. He became an auto mechanic, for pity’s sake. We barely saw him these past years. What did you expect us to feel?”
Trent felt ready to explode, but Maggie’s hand moved over his back—soothing, comforting. “Nothing. I don’t expect you to feel anything. You never have. Why should this be any different? I think you should leave. You don’t belong here,” he told them.
“Trenton—” his mother began.
“Now, Mother.” Trent’s voice was steely. “Or I’m going to make a scene the likes of which will visit you in your nightmares for years.”
“We came to see the children,” Royce demanded.
“The children are awfully fragile right now, Royce,” Maggie warned.
“Maggie’s right,” Trent added. “They are fragile. Too fragile to deal with virtual strangers. Please, just go back home. No good will come from your being here. Someone will let you know what the funeral arrangements are.”
“Since I’m certain they’ll have something to do with those fanatics who meet in that converted barn, we’ll just see you in court,” his father said. Nearly identical frowns in place, they turned as one and left.
Ed approached from the other end of the large room. “Not a pretty sight,” he murmured. “Did that go as badly as it looked?”
Trent sighed. “They won’t be at the funeral, and they’ll see us in court.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_f7ad20ba-ac7e-5608-a7f0-bda07fb8f126)
During the ten years of her marriage, Maggie had been in the company of her in-laws only a handful of times. She knew them to be stiff, formal people. She’d felt uncomfortable with them even though they hadn’t objected to her marriage to Trent. They’d hosted the usual engagement party and rehearsal dinner, and Albertine had attended her bridal shower. But when Michael had fallen head over heels for her maid of honor, Maggie had seen their true colors—the people behind the polite facades they presented to the world. It had been an eye-opener, not a very pretty sight.
Sarah was the daughter of Maggie’s mother’s livein maid. She and Sarah had grown up together. When Maggie had been headed for an exclusive private high school, her father had pulled some strings, donated some money to the school and arranged for Sarah to attend on a scholarship. There wasn’t a day of Maggie’s life when Sarah hadn’t been there—’til now— and back then, they’d been inseparable.
At first, any friend of Maggie’s was good enough for Michael, as far as her in-laws had been concerned. But then Sarah had made the grave error of explaining their lifelong friendship. The Osbornes’ opinion had changed in the blink of an eye on learning that Sarah was the child of a maid.
But Michael had loved Sarah to distraction. He’d agreed to begin attending services with her on Sundays. The change in him had been dramatic, but Maggie hadn’t understood the source of that change back then. She’d thought her friend Sarah was solely responsible. But she’d been wrong. Jesus, working in the life of a misunderstood, angry young man, had sparked the changes.
But whatever the source, Trent had been thrilled when wild, unpredictable Michael had stopped getting into scrapes with the local police that Trent or their parents had to pay his way out of. After a few weeks, Michael had gone to Trent and told him that he wanted to go to school to learn to be an auto mechanic. Trent finally seeing real excitement in his brother’s eyes about learning something, had loaned him the money without a thought. And for the first time in his life Michael had flourished.
A year later, Michael and Sarah had been married at Maggie’s parents’ home, under the same rose trellis where Maggie and Trent had stood a year earlier. Michael had invited his parents even though they didn’t approve of Sarah’s background. And they had attended. But it had been painfully obvious that they’d only gone because they hadn’t wanted their friends to know that Michael’s choice of a bride was causing a rift in the family. But there was a rift. And only now, hearing her in-laws denigrate Michael even in death, did Maggie realize how deep it had gone.
“I’m sorry, Trent,” Ed said with a grimace. “This is one of those times I wish I’d been wrong, but I had a feeling they’d pull something like this.”
Trent grimaced and shook his head. “No. It’s better this way. Now that the other shoe has dropped, we know for sure where it is.”
Maggie dropped her arm from Trent’s waist. “I’m stunned. They’ve always been hard people, and you and Michael haven’t been close to them since before he and Sarah married. But to belittle Michael that way, and in front of one of his children, is unbelievable.”
“And unforgivable. The worst part of the whole thing is that they don’t care about the kids. It’s the appearance that they do that matters to them. And they probably just don’t want me raising them.” Trent looked uncomfortable, as if he’d revealed something accidentally.
“It’s probably more that they don’t want me involved,” Maggie said. “She’s always held my acceptance of Sarah as an equal against me. And did you hear that crack about our church? The one about me being as bad as Sarah at raising them was a little strange, though. How would she know what kind of mother Sarah was? This whole thing is just so unbelievable. If Albertine was always scandalized by the number of children they had, why would she want to raise them? That letter she wrote to Sarah when she heard Grace was on the way was nothing short of cruel. ‘Only animals have more than two children’? When Sarah called and read it to me, she was in tears and Michael was furious.”
Trent frowned but remained silent Trent had been even angrier with his parents than Michael had. Maggie had wondered why then, and wondered again now, noticing his eyes glitter with suppressed fury.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it in case they saved it,” Maggie promised, hoping to change the subject.
Ed’s smile was almost mischievous. “They did, and now I have it. Michael was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He was determined that if something happened to him, Sarah would have plenty of ammunition in case his parents went after custody. And he was sure they would. They blamed Sarah for every step Michael took in a direction that they didn’t approve of.”
“Speaking of the children,” Maggie said. “I think we should go check on them. I haven’t seen Grace or Daniel yet today, and they were asleep when I saw them yesterday. I wonder if the hospital would let Rachel in to see them. I think it would do all of them a world of good to be together. Especially Mickey.”
Trent and Ed needed to sign papers for the release and transportation of Mike’s and Sarah’s bodies back to Pennsylvania, so Maggie took Rachel along with her to see the others. The nurses in pediatrics, who had shuffled patients to put Mickey’s siblings in the room next to him, saw no problem with one more child visiting.
Rachel went immediately to Daniel, who was alone in a crib on the left near the windows. Maggie walked to the other crib where Grace slept on her side, facing into the room, her teddy bear clutched in a death grip. The bandage on Grace’s upper-left arm covered a laceration that would no doubt leave a nasty scar, as would the one on her thigh that had been caused by the flying glass. Amazingly, she hadn’t suffered facial injuries. Maggie looked into her little cherub face and touched her carrot-red curls. Careful not to wake her, Maggie then tiptoed away to Daniel. She could hear grumbling across the room about having been put in a crib like a baby.
And then the hard part began.
“Where are Mommy and Daddy?” he asked.
It had been a long day, Maggie thought at almost midnight, as she tossed the last little outfit into the laundry bag and leaned against the wall. Grace was too young to understand that Mommy and Daddy were in heaven and wouldn’t be back. She’d just wanted her parents, but Maggie’s familiar face had gone a long way toward soothing her and making her feel more secure. Daniel understood a little more and oddly had been more easily consoled. He was nowhere near as aware of the changes ahead as Mickey and Rachel, though.
It was Mickey who worried Maggie the most—and not just because of his medical condition. He was too quiet. Too detached from all that was happening. After a conference with his doctor, Maggie and Trent had decided she would have to remain in Florida with the other children until Mickey could safely be moved to a hospital back home.
By the end of the day, Trent and Ed somehow had found and rented a small furnished house not far from the hospital. Ed had taken Maggie to rent a van which they’d equipped with a car seat for Grace, while Trent had visited with the children.
He was so good with them—teasing smiles out of Grace, reading stories to Rachel and Daniel, and playing board games with Mickey—that Maggie was confused. Why was Trent so sure that he would be a poor father? It simply made no sense.
But whether he was ready for parenthood or not, the children, except for Mickey, had been ready to be released by the end of the day. Grace was badly bruised in addition to the lacerations, and she was cranky and out of sorts. Plus, Maggie was sure Grace felt the tension of the adults who populated her world and was reacting to it.
Grace had finally drifted off about an hour ago, after Maggie spent time rocking her. Trent, meanwhile, had read several stories to Rachel and Daniel, had supplied the requisite extra glass of water and had tucked them in—several times.
And so now it was midnight and all the children were finally settled. Maggie pushed away from the wall, knowing she had one more task to perform. She had to talk to Trent and get him to talk to her. She found him in the living room, staring out the patio doors at the rain.
“I hope this weather doesn’t mean you’ll have a rough flight in the morning. What time do you take off?”
Trent glanced back at her for a second. “Not until ten. The first available flight was at dawn, but I didn’t think it would be good for the kids to have another adult just disappear on them.”
Maggie stared at him. Even she hadn’t thought of that. Trent became more of a puzzle about the children every time he opened his mouth. “Are you too tired to talk awhile?” she asked. “I thought we should formalize some plans.”
Trent turned, his smile bitter. “We’ve been married ten years, Mag. Why not say what you mean? You’ve never had trouble expressing your feelings in the past. I seem to remember several dissertations on my faults that lasted a good long while before you walked out.”
“Fine. Where do we stand?” she asked flatly.
Trent visibly started. “I—I don’t know.”
Maggie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please help me say the right things, Lord. “I shouldn’t have left you, Trent. Both Michael and Sarah tried to tell me that I still loved you too much to start over without you, but I wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t see past the emptiness inside me that called out for a child. Then I left and the emptiness grew. I managed to achieve so many of the goals I thought I wanted—the house in Valley Forge, the reduced hours at work. I found that hole I’d wanted to fill with a child filled with the love of Jesus. Then I found out that even as a single parent I had a chance for a foreign adoption, but the emptiness only got worse because you weren’t there to share it with me.”
Maggie blinked to clear her swimming vision. “I was wrong. I promised you for better or worse, but when worse came along, I folded my tent and walked off. I can’t change what I did. I can only tell you how sorry I am and will be for the rest of my life. I can only tell you that I love you. And that I’d like to try to make it all up to you.”
Trent closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t honestly see how you can.”
Maggie felt the pain of his words in every pore of her body, but she prayed for strength and found it. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. He stiffened at her touch and tears flooded her eyes, overflowing down her cheek, blurring her focus. “Please let me try. Please.”
Narrowing his blue eyes, he stared at her for a long moment. “I don’t know.” He turned and walked away, dropping into the rattan sofa against the far wall of the small parlor. He was silent for several minutes, staring ahead. Then he looked back over at her. In his eyes she saw such stark longing and desire that she gasped, but his clenched teeth and hand said that his need for her still warred with pain and anger. “Why don’t you tell me why I should?” he demanded.
“Because I’ve never stopped loving you. And I think it’s God’s plan that we be together.”
“You left me!” he shouted, his voice breaking, his anguish bursting through the anger.
And that pain—pain she’d inflicted—felt like a knife in her heart. “I know it won’t be easy for either of us, but I think we can salvage our marriage.”
“It was you who decided to scuttle our marriage in the first place.”
Regret had never weighed more heavily on Maggie’s shoulders. She walked to the sofa and sat on an ottoman placed nearby. The hurt and confusion on his face nearly overwhelmed her. How could she have done this to him? “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry for all the arguments before I did. But we have ten years together behind us, and the raising of four children ahead of us. I think those are fourteen pretty good reasons to try again. And you can’t say I only want to try now because of the children. You know I felt this way before the accident. Even before I learned about the foreign adoption possibilities. You know that!”
“And I told you how I felt every time you contacted me.”
Had he decided not to reconcile, after all? She braced herself. “This morning you told Ed you were agreeable to getting back together. Have you changed your mind?”
Trent shook his head. “The kids need both of us to protect them from my parents. I just don’t know how to handle you and me.”
“You could try relying on the Lord. It’s the best way I’ve found to face adversity.”
“I don’t even know what that means. Who is this Lord? A God who cares about us? Who fixes things and changes lives? I sure never met Him at the church I grew up in. He’s a concept I can’t even relate to.”
Maggie nodded. The last she’d heard from Michael, Trent still saw faith as a crutch. At least now he was questioning in his own way. “How about taking it one day at a time? How about looking at me and the kids as a package deal. Please say you’ll move into the house with us. That you’ll be waiting for us when we come back north.”
“I…I’m not sure. I just don’t know if I can. I’m going to have to play it by ear. Like you said. One day at a time.”
Trent stared at the key in his hand. Then at the lock. He’d waited a week since the memorial service and funeral. And he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. The last time he’d talked to Mike, his brother had most of the house torn apart to put in a new climate-control plant. Which meant there was not only no heat or air-conditioning, but no hot water, either. Ed had called to warn Trent that if his parents did sue for custody, a home study would be done on both environments.
One step at a time, he reminded himself, and turned the key. But when he went inside, he wished he could take back that last step. He hadn’t understood: this wasn’t torn apart—it had been demolished. There were almost no walls! What had they been thinking to call this mess a paradise. It sure didn’t look like Paradise Found to him! It was more like Paradise Lost!
Trent closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again. Nothing had changed. Studs. Subflooring. Exposed pipes. Then he remembered the kitchen Mike had mentioned finishing. A bathroom and a room he’d created as a family room from two smaller ones at the back of the house. Mike had begun the project shortly after Maggie walked out on their marriage. How could nearly nine months have gone by since he visited Mike and Sarah at their own house?
He’d seen them often, but at his place. He’d met them at the zoo one day. Had taken them to a lake in Jersey another. But he hadn’t come to their home. Mike had told him the place was torn up, and Trent had used it as an excuse because he was afraid to run into Maggie. Afraid he’d weaken, take her back. Afraid he’d pull her into his arms, kiss her senseless and beg her to forgive him for denying her the children she needed, then never let her go.
Trent shook his head and picked his way through the entrance foyer, past the remnants of a sweeping staircase, and down the hall to the kitchen for which Mike had been so full of plans. He pushed open the leaded-glass swinging door, and stood spellbound.
The room stood like a monument to his brother’s talent. For so long Mike had been told that to work with his hands would be unseemly. Trent didn’t know Mike’s Lord, but he thanked Him just the same, because somehow He’d given his brother the courage to be who he was meant to be. And now Trent understood why Mike and Sarah had named the house Paradise Found.
Black granite counters gleamed. Oak cabinets shone. It was…overwhelming in its beauty. He ran his hands over the cabinets and the frosted leadedglass inserts. He recognized the cabinet doors that framed the glass. On his last visit, just after a particularly nasty fight with Maggie, Mike had shown Trent the prototype he’d just finished. Sarah’s art—bordered by Mike’s.
Tears flooded his eyes. Trent made his way to the kitchen table and dropped his head onto his forearm where it rested on the table. Some minutes later he found himself stroking the surface of the big round oak table. Lifting his head he noticed that it sat in a large alcove with tall windows affording a wonderful view of the woods that bordered the back lawn. Wainscoting, painted taupe, came up to the sill of the windows, and Victorian print paper graced the small amount of wall space left by the windows.
Trent looked back at the surface of the table. He ran his hand over it again, marveling at the smoothness of the hand-rubbed patina. His brother again. Trent had seen it months ago, in pieces and stripped to its nicked surface in Mike’s workshop.
He looked out the window and realized that his brother had created the alcove by bumping the walls out into the back porch. Curious, he went to the door and out onto the porch. The porch hadn’t suffered, but now followed the four walls of the interior alcove. The bump-out caused the porch roof to form a mini turret. Like most of the house, the porch wasn’t finished. But Trent could visualize exactly what Mike had planned.
And plans reminded him of Mike’s workshop in the old carriage house. He jumped down off the unfinished back porch and headed that way, but he hesitated once he reached the threshold, not sure he could take many more haunting memories. Trent looked back at the house and the new, unpainted wood of the porch. Resolutely he turned and unlocked the workshop door.
The memories came at once. Painful, poignant and wonderful, they flooded in. The odor of newly planed wood. The smell of Sarah’s soldering gun. Mike, his safety glasses perched on his head, grinning over the floor plans. Sarah, tossing a wad of paper at Mike in retaliation for his incessant teasing, her sweet loving smile shining in her eyes.
He glanced at those same sparkling eyes in the picture on one of the shelves above Mike’s workbench. It was a candid shot of the four of them that had been taken on Mike and Sarah’s wedding day. A day that had almost not happened, thanks to his parents.
They’d been horrified when Sarah had innocently revealed that she wasn’t Maggie’s neighbor but that they’d lived on the same property—Maggie in the main house and Sarah as the daughter of the maid in the apartment over the carriage house. Seeing Sarah as a lower-class influence on Michael, they’d tried to pay her to get out of Michael’s life.
Trent would never forget the day he’d opened his door to find Sarah, pale and shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, the check still clutched convulsively in her hand. Trent had shouted for Maggie immediately and had called Mike to come to their apartment. And nothing had been the same between either the two sons and their parents since.
Mike had moved in with him and Maggie for a while, and later Trent had become Mike’s silent partner in an auto garage that catered to luxury cars and their owners. It had been a great joke between him and his brother that growing up with parents like theirs had ensured the business’s success by teaching Mike exactly how to deal with the finicky demands of many of the Main-Line’s wealthy residents.
Trent shook his head as he stared at those four smiling faces. They all looked so happy—and they had been. But now everything was different. It was hard to think of them as gone. The workshop felt as if they were still there.
And so did the house, he realized, and glanced at the slot next to the picture. The floor plans Mike had drawn up were where he’d always kept them. Pulling them out of the cubbyhole, Trent watched his hand shake. He unrolled them and found more there than just the blueprints he’d seen before. Every idea and plan Mike and Sarah had decided on was cataloged. Wallpaper swatches, paint colors, quantities needed and estimated costs—all were there.
An hour later the house had taken shape in Trent’s mind.
The monstrosity no longer seemed that, he realized, but another page in the unfinished book that his brother’s life had become when an overtired trucker had driven on into the night instead of pulling over. And like the raising of Mike’s kids, it was another thing Trent knew he would see through to its finish. He owed that to Mike, the one person who had loved him unconditionally.
With that thought, another devastating one occurred to him. “Maybe I should have given him a chance. Maybe if I’d told him I wasn’t really his brother, he would have loved me anyway,” Trent said aloud. “Maybe he still would have wanted to be my brother.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_f2b18c2e-f31e-567d-8f22-d4b5ed94415e)
“Aunt Maggie,” Rachel said, “are we really going to leave Mickey here? Why can’t he come home with us?”
Maggie glanced at Rachel in the rearview mirror of the rental van she’d picked up at the airport. “Mickey’s going to be fine at Shriners. You saw all the other kids. He’ll have lots of company and get the therapy he needs. We can come visit, and before you know it, he’ll be home with us, driving you crazy the way he used to.”
“I love you, Aunt Maggie, but I wish it could be like it used to be. I even prayed for it a few times, but I know it can’t happen.”
You aren’t the only one praying for the impossible, Maggie thought. “I love you, too, sweetheart, and I understand how you feel.”
Two weeks had settled the two younger children into a secure routine with her, but Rachel and Mickey were having a tougher time adjusting. Rachel, at least, talked about her grief and loss. Not so Mickey. He was still silent and deeply depressed.
“Will Uncle Trent be at our house?” Rachel asked from behind her.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” she said, and forced what she hoped was a confident-looking smile. In truth, she had no clue where Trent was. She’d been unable to reach him to tell him they were returning. She’d left message after message on his answering machine at home and on his voice mail at work but he hadn’t gotten in touch with her. By late yesterday she’d swallowed her pride and called his secretary’s extension. Ellen told her that he’d taken a few days off, that her orders were not to disturb him unless it was a dire emergency, and that Maggie should be able to reach him at his home. But he wasn’t at the condo. Or else he wasn’t answering the phone when Maggie was the caller.
And this after two weeks of silence.
She’d heard nothing directly from him. She’d returned, not knowing his decision regarding their marriage. And, of course, he had no idea at all that she and the children were back. Which left Maggie alone with three children to face the house and its memories. She had no idea how they’d react.
“There’s the river down there,” Daniel shouted. “Does that mean we’re on the Sure-kill?”
“Yes, this is the Sckuykill Expressway.”
“Uncle Trent calls it the Sure-kill Distressway,” Rachel added, “but I don’t think it’s so funny anymore.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t, either,” Maggie said, then gritted her teeth. Uncle Trent again. Children were so easy to read. Rachel and Daniel and even Grace in her limited capacity had talked incessantly about their uncle in the last several days. His absence was clearly noted, and it just as clearly caused worry. He’d checked in on Mickey, calling to talk to the boy’s doctors and Mickey himself every other day, but there’d been not a word for Maggie.
He didn’t return her calls, either. When the offers of help had come from the Shriners organization for Mickey to enter their new facility in North Philadelphia, and from Angel Flight East for their transportation, she’d called Trent all weepy and grateful. It had been such a weight off her shoulders and such a tremendous answer to desperate prayer that she hadn’t been able to help the frequent breaks in her voice. All he had done in response was to say a few stiff words, and to contact the Florida doctors to help coordinate Mickey’s eventual move.
Didn’t he realize the strain all this had been? Maybe not, a quiet voice argued. She certainly hadn’t understood what it would take to just start her day at seven making breakfast. After feeding and dressing three children, it was off to the hospital. And even that was complicated. She had to shepherd all the children to the car, get two buckled in their seats and Grace in her safety seat, then drive to the hospital. In the parking lot, it started all over again. The walk into and through the hospital, keeping track of them, was complicated as well. And now after two weeks alone, she was tired and scared that it might continue that way for the foreseeable future.
And what would she face when she reached the house? When she’d been there last month, the kitchen had looked like a war zone, but Michael had done wonders by her last visit, a week before they left on vacation. It was just that the house needed so much more. Maggie had never understood how Sarah had kept her sanity while dealing with a house that looked for all the world as if it were in the middle of being torn down.
“Aunt Maggie, do you know about the water?” Daniel asked.
Maggie started at the sound of his voice. “The water in the river?” she asked.
“No, silly, the water at our house. You said we were still going to live there, right?”
“We’re almost there. What about the water?”
Rachel sighed. “It was just that Daddy didn’t know. But Mommy wasn’t mad,” she was quick to reassure Maggie.
Maggie didn’t feel reassured. Instead she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Daddy didn’t know what?”
“About the old heater. We just camped. You know.”
Maggie didn’t camp. Had never ever wanted to camp. Couldn’t imagine anything worse than camping with little children all under the age of nine. “Camped?”
Was that a squeak in her voice?
“Yeah, like when we go camping and Mommy and Daddy cook the water for dishes. We have to cook it at home, too. Just like camping! But just ‘til the new heater is hooked up, Daddy said.”
“Sarah, you were amazing,” Maggie whispered, and prayed for strength.
The house came into sight just then. It sat high on a rise at the end of a drive that was several hundred yards long; it seemed to peer imperiously down the hill at them through two eyebrow windows cut into the roof. Michael had called the house a “grand old lady.” To Maggie, the peeling paint and half-finished porches made it look more like a derelict. But although the house looked less than inviting to her, it was home to these children, and Maggie would do nothing to change their perceptions of it.
She stopped the van in front and started to set the brake.
“Um, Aunt Maggie,” Rachel said, her voice hesitant, “I think maybe we should go in the back door.”
Maggie hated to ask the obvious question, but it just seemed to pop out anyway. “Why?”
“’Cause Daddy finished undoing the front of the house.”
Maggie gulped. “Undoing?”
“The old walls and the floors,” Rachel answered.
“And the steps,” Daniel chirped. “Don’t forget he pulled down the old rickety steps.”
Don’t jump to conclusions, Mag old girl They’re only little. They probably don’t mean it the way it sounds. Besides, you were here a week before they left. And anyway, he couldn’t have taken out the heater, taken down the walls and stairs and torn out the floors. There’d be nothing left! He couldn’t! Could he?
Maggie forced herself to put the car in park and to stomp down on the parking brake. “I only have a front door key, kids. It’s this way or the highway.”
“We were just on a bunch of highways,” Daniel complained. “I want to get out and ride my Big Wheel”
Maggie chuckled as she turned off the car. “That’s sort of an old expression my grandfather used. ‘It’s my way or the highway,’ he always said.”
“What’s it mean?” Daniel demanded.
Maggie shrugged. “This way or forget it, I guess,” she said, a little distracted as she unbuckled Grace from her car seat.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he grumbled. “Why are big people always using old sayings that don’t mean what they say they do? I think it’s a ‘spiracy to keep kids from being too smart.”
“Oh, no. Here we go again,” Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes.
Too late Maggie remembered Daniel’s penchant for needing to know the literal meaning in everything he heard. “We’ll sort it out later, Daniel Right now Grace needs a nap, and I think you could use a little lie-down, too.”
Grace perked up, and her eyes opened from their half-mast position. “Not tired,” she chirped, then ruined her lively pretense with a wide yawn.
Maggie tapped Grace’s little nose. “Careful before you catch a fly in that mouth.”
“Where’s a fly?” Daniel asked.
Maggie laughed and changed the subject. “Let’s get a move on, everybody. Into the house. We’ll worry about the luggage later.”
They proceeded as always with the routine Sarah had used, and which Maggie had adopted. She took Grace’s hand, Rachel took Daniel’s and they walked across the yard, up the steps and up to the front door. Maggie unlocked the door, opened it and peeked in. She stifled a gasp.
Rachel and Daniel had been alarmingly close in their description of Michael’s latest demolition. The only thing left of the interior front of the house were studs, subflooring and the central staircase horses. Wires hung everywhere. There were holes here and there in the subflooring. She couldn’t take the children in there! It was a minefield.
Maggie felt Rachel tug on her sleeve. “You want me to go and open the door? Mickey did it for Mommy. I’ll be careful and not touch a thing, and I’ll watch out for the holes.”
Just then, however, the door from the kitchen pushed open and a man in jeans and a dark T-shirt came toward them. Dust motes floated in the sunlight between them. “Maggie? What are you guys doing here?”
Maggie squinted. The voice was Trent’s, but it couldn’t be him. He walked closer, and she backed up onto the porch. It was, of course, Trent, but his black hair was dusty and mussed. There were streaks of dirt on his shirt and jeans and on his forehead behind an errant lock. Maggie had never seen him so disheveled. Or so masculine. If this was indeed Trent, he should have gotten into jeans and T-shirts years ago.
“Trent?” she said foolishly, forgetting that she was supposed to be angry at him.
He followed her gaze to his clothes and shrugged. “They’re Mike’s. I didn’t have anything to do this sort of work in.”
“’This sort of work’?”
“I was putting in a new hot-water heater. It’s all set.”
His smile was boyish as if he were showing off a school project. Trent had put in a water heater? Maggie should have been relieved. There’d be hot water after all. But she knew Trent. Lord, she prayed, tell me what to say.
“By yourself?” she asked, trying to keep a neutral tone, still not sure whether to be proud or horrified. This was Trent. The same Trent who had tried to fix a leaking pipe in their first apartment with a wad of chewing gum.
“Yeah. And it wasn’t too bad. Mike has the most incredible set of how-to books. I wanted to get more done before you got back. Why are you here? Why didn’t you warn me? I could have met you at the airport. Is Mickey at Shriners already?”
If you’d called me even once in the last two weeks, you might know. She glanced at the children taking in their whole conversation and guarded her tongue. “He’s all settled in. He still isn’t bouncing back emotionally but he was ready to travel, so I decided it was time to come home. I left messages with our flight number on your answering machine and your voice mail. I even called Ellen. She said you were at home, but I didn’t think of calling here.” I didn’t know to call here, she added silently.
Trent glanced at the children. Did he seem nervous? “Well, this is my home now too, right? I guess I should have had the phone company forward my calls here. You should do the same with your house.”
“Uncle Trent, why did you have a different house from Aunt Maggie?”
“’Cause they’re getting a divorce,” Rachel informed Daniel. “Mommy explained all about it to me. But if Uncle Trent’s moving here with us, how will you get divorced, Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie’s gaze flew to Trent’s. “We’re not,” Maggie said with false cheer. “Uncle Trent and I have been talking about getting back together. We sort of canceled the divorce. We’re going to be your guardians together. Remember? We talked about this.”
“But Uncle Trent never called us. He called Mickey. We thought he didn’t care about us. I’m just a girl and so is Grace.”
“And I’m just a little kid,” Daniel added.
Now she knew she wasn’t imagining Trent’s fear of these children; there was such stark terror in the depths of his gaze that her heart shuddered. Then Trent dropped to one knee. Guilt had replaced the terror. “I love you all very much. I’m sorry you misunderstood. I didn’t think how you’d feel not hearing from me. I’m so sorry. I was very upset by what happened to your daddy and mommy, and when I’m upset I work to help me forget. Unfortunately, that means I also forget things I shouldn’t.”
Rachel nodded sagely. “I heard Daddy say that to Mommy. He said you were sad about losing Aunt Maggie so you were working too much. It sounded very silly to me. You should have just asked us. Aunt Maggie wasn’t really lost at all, cause we knew where she was all the time.”
Trent looked up at Maggie. Two bright flags of red had appeared on his cheekbones. Rachel with her out-of-the-mouths-of-babes wisdom had clearly exposed a truth he’d rather have kept to himself.
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Kate Welsh
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: THE CHILDREN OF HIS HEARTTrenton Osborne knew that his beloved wife, Maggie, was made for raising little ones. But Trent secretly, desperately, feared failing at fatherhood. So even with Christmas coming and ten years of marriage at stake, he had to let Maggie go….But on the brink of their divorce, like a gift from God, four orphaned children entered their lives and their hearts. Watching Maggie instantly open her arms to his nieces and nephews, Trent himself couldn′t turn away. But could he triumph over his terror and make his marriage whole once more? Could he finally give Maggie a family for Christmas?