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A Baby by Easter
Lois Richer
After learning her marriage is a hoax, twenty-one-year-old Susannah Wells and her unborn baby have nowhere to turn. So she goes to her former foster sister's home.There she encounters a friend of the family–a handsome lawyer, caring for his special-needs sister. Needing a job and a safe haven, Susannah is grateful when David Foster hires her as caregiver for his sibling. She knows it's difficult for David to let others ease his burdens. Until he shows her just what a blessing she and her Easter baby are to him.



“I have just one condition for accepting your job offer,” Susannah said.
David wheeled around, frustrated by the way she challenged him. “Which is?”
“When you disagree with my suggestions for your sister, and you will disagree,” she said, her smile kicking up the corners of her pretty lips, “will you at least try to understand that I’m making my suggestions for Darla’s benefit?”
What did she think—that he was some angry powermonger who had to lord it over everyone? “I’ll listen,” David agreed. “As long as you don’t take any undue chances.”
“With the baby?” Her face tightened. “I won’t take any chances,” she said firmly. “I want my baby to be healthy. I won’t risk anything for that. That’s the one decision I don’t intend to mess up.”
“Then we have a deal.” David walked away, but his brain puzzled over her last comment. What did she mean?
He found no satisfactory answers to stop his thoughts about Darla’s newest caregiver—at least, that was how he should be thinking of the beautiful Susannah Wells.
Easier said than done.

LOIS RICHER
likes variety. From her time in human resources management to entrepreneurship, life has held plenty of surprises. She says, “Having given up on fairy tales, I was happily involved in building a restaurant when a handsome prince walked into my life and upset all my career plans with a wedding ring. Motherhood quickly followed. I guess the seeds of my storytelling took root because of two small boys who kept demanding, ‘Then what, Mom?’” The miracle of God’s love for His children, the blessing of true love, the joy of sharing Him with others—that is a story that can be told a thousand ways and yet still be brand-new. Lois Richer intends to go right on telling it.

A Baby by Easter
Lois Richer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what
we are living for. Long before we first heard of
Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us
for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is
working out in everything and everyone.
—Ephesians 1:11, 12
The Message
This story is for those generous souls
who open homes and hearts to kids of all ages
who crave love and affection. Your dedication
will be revealed in tomorrow’s generation.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion

Chapter One
Evenings in Tucson were a lot cooler than the Los Angeles’ dusk Susannah Wells was used to.
Remember, Suze, we foster kids never know about tomorrow. Save whatever you can so you’ll be prepared.
Susannah squeezed her hand in her pocket, fingering the last bits of change leftover from her meager savings. Connie’s advice about money had been right on, like so much other guidance she’d given in those long-ago days when they’d shared a room in their North Dakota foster home.
What advice would Connie have for her this time—or would she even want to be bothered with her former foster sister?
Susannah hugged her thinly clad arms around her waist and breathed in the heady scent of hot pink oleanders. Deliberately she forced one foot in front of the other. Moving quickly wasn’t an option when the world occasionally tilted too far to the right. Beads of moisture on her forehead chilled her hot skin, making her shiver.
The bus driver had said two blocks—surely she’d come at least that far?
Suddenly off balance, Susannah stopped to steady herself. She focused her blurry eyes on the paper in her hand, peering to confirm that the numbers on the page were the same as those on the house. Her sluggish brain responded as if obscured by fog. She squinted for a second look.
This was it.
Susannah’s heart sank a little lower. Such a grand home. How could she possibly walk into that perfectly manicured courtyard, knock on that elegant glass and wrought-iron door and ask Connie for help?
You’re not worth helping, but you don’t have a choice.
Nothing harder to stomach than the truth. Susannah knew that too well. She gritted her teeth, pushed open the gate and moved forward. Droplets of perspiration ran into her eyes, blurring her vision. She swiped them away with a quick brush of her hand, afraid to release the branches of the hedge for more than a second, lest she flop to the ground. She was cold, and yet she was so hot.
What was wrong with her?
Finally she stood at the entrance. Music floated out from the brightly lit house. Or maybe the melody was just stuck in her head.
Susannah lifted a hand and tapped gingerly, inhaling as the world spun faster.
The door opened, light and laughter flooding out.
“Yes?” A man’s voice, rich and smooth, like butterscotch candy, flowed over her. It was hard to see his face, but light brown eyes gleamed through the dusk. “Can I help you?”
“Connie,” Susannah whispered.
Then everything went black.

David Foster stared at the unconscious woman lying on his best friend Wade’s doorstep. Wade’s wife, Connie, always had someone stopping by, friends from the foster home where she’d once lived, acquaintances she’d met and offered to help, even total strangers who’d heard about her charities. This frail woman must fit into one of those categories.
But Connie and Wade were celebrating their return from Brazil with a houseful of guests. He didn’t want to disturb them. As Wade’s lawyer, David was accustomed to handling things for his friend. He decided he’d handle this guest, for now.
He bent and scooped the young woman into his arms.
“Who’s that?” Darla asked. His little sister had a habit of soundlessly appearing at his elbow.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, leading the way to the study. “One of Connie’s friends, I guess. She fainted. I think she’s sick.”
“Oh.” Darla watched as he laid the young woman on the sofa. “Can I help, Davy?”
David smiled, brushed his hand over her shiny brown hair in a fond caress. Darla loved to help. Though nineteen, a skiing accident had left Darla with a brain injury that cut her mental age in half. David’s goal in life was to make his sister’s life as rich and happy as possible. It was becoming a challenge.
“Sure you can help, sweetie. Why don’t you go in the bathroom over there and get a wet cloth?” he suggested. “You can wipe her forehead. She seems to have a fever.”
“Okay.”
Darla hurried to do as asked, her mood bright because of Connie’s party. “Like this?” she asked him, dabbing the cloth on the woman’s face.
“Very gently. That’s good.” He watched for a few moments. “She had a bag,” he mused. “It must have dropped. Can you take care of her while I go look for it?”
“Yes.” Darla hummed quietly as she gently removed the traces of dust and grime from the visitor’s pale skin. Not that it mattered—their guest was gorgeous.
“I’ll be right back.” David hurried toward the front door, his mind filled with questions.
She was tiny, light as a feather. Her delicate features made him think of fashion magazine covers—thin, high cheekbones, full lips and wide-set eyes. She’d pulled her golden blond hair back and plaited it so it fell down her back, but little wisps had worked free to frame her face in delicate curls. He caught himself speculating what the color of her eyes would turn out to be when those incredible lashes lifted.
She’s obviously needy, and your docket is full.
Boy, did he know that.
A denim backpack lay outside on the step. David bent to pick it up. Well used, even ragged. Like her clothes.
He carried the bag inside, quickening his step. Darla couldn’t be left alone for long. He stepped into the room.
“You’re Sleeping Beauty, aren’t you?” his sister whispered as she slid her cloth over the girl’s thin, ringless fingers. “You need Prince Charming to wake you up.”
David knew what was coming. He tried to stall by taking the woman’s pulse.
“She’ll wake up in a few minutes, sis.”
“No,” Darla said, eyes darkening as her temper flared. “She needs you to kiss her, Davy. That’s how Sleeping Beauty wakes up.”
David sighed. Apparently he’d read her that particular fairy tale one too many times.
“It would be wrong of me to kiss her, Darla,” he said firmly, ignoring the allure of full pink lips. “I don’t know her. She wouldn’t want a strange man to kiss her. Women don’t like that.”
“It’s the only way to get her to wake up.” Darla was growing agitated.
David closed the study door and prayed their visitor would soon rouse. He didn’t want a scene at his friends’ party. And Darla would make one. She’d grown used to getting her own way, and when she didn’t, she tantrumed. That was the main reason she’d gone through so many caregivers in the past six months. None of the helpers he’d hired had been strong enough to stand up to Darla’s iron will.
Like he was?
“Kiss her.” Darla scowled at him, her mouth tight.
“No.” David kept his voice firm. “It’s no good getting angry, Darla. I’m not going to kiss her. This isn’t a fairy tale, and she’s not Sleeping Beauty. She’s real and she might be quite ill. Look how she’s shivering.” He lifted a coverlet from the sofa and laid it over the small form.
“You have to kiss her.” Darla stamped her foot. “I want you to.” She swung out her hand. It connected with a lamp, which shattered against a table.
“Darla! Now you’ve broken Connie’s lamp. Stop this immediately.” David reached for her arm to keep her from wrecking anything else, but Darla was quick. She sidestepped him.
“Kiss her,” she ordered, her face stormy as any thunder cloud.
“Nobody’s going to kiss me,” a soft voice murmured. “And I wish you’d stop yelling. You sound like a spoiled brat.”
Darla glowered at their visitor. Then she grinned. “Sometimes I am,” she admitted shamelessly.
“Why? It’s not very nice to live with people who are spoiled.” The woman shifted the cover over her shoulders then swung her feet to the floor as she sat up. Her face paled a little and her fingers tightened on a sofa cushion.
“Easy,” David murmured. “Not too fast. You fainted. Remember?”
“Unfortunately I do remember. What an entrance.” She tilted her head back to rest it as she studied him.
Her eyes were a deep, vivid green. Their shadowed intensity reminded David of the Amazon forest—he’d once taken a trip there with Wade and their friend Jared. Before his world had become consumed by responsibility.
“My name is David Foster,” he said. “This is my sister, Darla.”
“I’m Susannah Wells. So this isn’t Connie Ladden’s home?” She looked defeated.
“Oh, yes. Connie and Wade Abbot live here,” he assured her.
“They’re having a party,” Darla butted in. She frowned. “Did you come for the party? You don’t have a party dress on. You’re not supposed to come to a party if you don’t dress nice,” she chided.
“Darla.” David frowned at her.
“She’s only saying the truth. You’re not supposed to show up at a party dressed as I am.” Susannah smiled at him tentatively then turned to Darla. “But I didn’t know it was a party, you see. Anyway, I don’t have party dresses.”
“Not even one?” Clearly this mystified Darla. “I have lots.”
“Lucky you.” Susannah frowned. “Maybe I should leave and come back tomorrow.”
“You can’t.” Darla flopped down beside her.
Susannah blinked. “Why can’t I?”
“’Cause you don’t have any place to go. Do you?” Darla asked.
David tried to intervene but Susannah merely waved her hand at him to wait.
“How do you know that, Darla?” she asked, brows lowering.
“I’m a detective today.”
“Oh.” The visitor glanced at him, her confusion evident.
David shrugged but didn’t speak.
“I’m Detective Darla Foster. You don’t have any suitcases. All you have is a backpack.” Darla trailed one finger over the frayed embroidery work on the bag. “If you had a hotel, you would go there and wash first. But you came here dirty. I washed your face.” She lifted the wet washcloth off the floor and held it out to show the grime. “See?”
A ruby flush moved from the V of Susannah’s neck up to her chin and over her thin cheeks.
“There was a wind,” she muttered, avoiding David’s gaze. “It was so dusty.”
“It’s none of our business,” he assured her hastily, giving Darla a warning look. “Except that I don’t think you’re well. Should I call a doctor?”
“You actually know doctors who make house calls?” Her big eyes expressed incredulity.
“Dr. Boo came to my house. She asks too many questions.” Darla’s bottom lip jutted out. “Detectives don’t like Dr. Boo.”
“Dr. Boone,” David clarified, interpreting Susannah’s stare as a query. “Actually she’s here. Shall I call her?”
“No.” The word came out fast. Susannah donned a quick smile to cover. “I’m not very good with doctors. I’ll be fine. I think I caught a little cold, that’s all. But they never hang around for long.”
“You’re shivering.” David didn’t miss the way she hugged the coverlet around her shoulders as if craving warmth, or the way her stomach issued a noisy rumble. “And hungry, by the sounds of it. Shall I go get Connie?”
“Oh, please, I don’t want to disturb her party.” Susannah shook her head. “Can’t I just stay here quietly until everyone’s gone?”
“You don’t want to go to the party?” Darla frowned, then grinned. “Me, neither,” she declared. She patted Susannah’s arm. “Let’s have our own party. Davy, you get Silver,” she ordered.
“Silver?” Susannah looked horrified. “I don’t want money!’
“Silver is Wade’s daughter.” Darla giggled. “She’s nice.”
“I think Connie took Silver up to bed a while ago.” David held his breath, wondering if that would engender another explosion.
And that was exactly his problem. He worried too much about Darla’s temper and not enough about insisting she modify her behavior. But it was so hard to be firm with her. She was his baby sister. She’d lost so much since the accident. All he wanted was to make her world easier, to see her happy.
Still, it was his job to take care of her, no matter what. Which meant that tomorrow David would start scouting the agencies—again—to find someone to be with his sister when he couldn’t be.
Lowered voices drew him back to the present. Two heads, one dark, one blond, bent together as his sister laid out her plans for their impromptu party.
“Darla?” David waited until she lifted her head and smiled her dazzling smile at him. “I’m going to find something for Susannah to eat. Will you stay here?” He emphasized the word so she’d understand she wasn’t to leave the study.
“Okay.” Darla tore a piece of paper off the pad by the telephone and began scribbling. “Here’s our order, Davy. Crackers and cheese and soup. Chicken soup. Eighty-six percent of doctors say chicken soup is an effective aid in treating cold and flu.”
Darla had a knack for reciting television commercials verbatim.
“Cold and flu—is that what I have?” Susannah asked, tongue in cheek. “How do you know?”
“I’m a nurse. We just know.” Darla pulled the cover tighter around her patient’s shoulders.
David hid his smile at Susannah’s surprise.
“I thought you were a detective,” he said.
“Not anymore.” Darla glared at him. “Food, Davy. This child is starving,” she said in her bossy grandmother voice.
“Yes, ma’am.” He choked back his laughter. Darla had always been able to make him laugh. He headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.” He thought he heard a giggle from the blond woman before he closed the door, but it was quickly smothered.
David went searching for Connie and caught her between guests.
“There’s a woman in the study, a Susannah Wells,” he began, but got no further.
“Really? Suze? How wonderful.” Connie beamed with happiness. It faded a little as she glanced around the room. “We’re about to eat dinner. I can’t leave right now.” She thought a moment. “Bring her to the table, will you, David? I’ll get another place set.”
Before Connie could continue, David stopped her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said softly. “I don’t think she’s well. She fainted when I opened the door and she’s been shivering ever since.”
“Oh, dear.” Connie looked distracted. “Cora just gave me the nod. I need to get everyone seated.”
“Then go ahead. Darla and I will keep Ms. Susannah entertained until you’re free.” David smiled at her. “Don’t worry. Darla has everything under control. She’s a nurse.”
“Ah.” Connie grinned in understanding and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “What would we do without Darla, David?”
“I don’t know,” he answered her, perfectly serious. “Go enjoy dinner and don’t worry about your friend. I’ll look after her.”
“You always look after everyone.” Connie touched his cheek. “Thank you for all you do for us. You’re a dear.”
David watched her hurry away. He couldn’t help but envy Connie. She and Wade shared the kind of home he’d always wanted—one filled with love and joy, hope and the laughter of friends and family. But he shook himself out of it. Having a family was a dream he’d given up.
For Darla.
He escaped to the kitchen. A whisper of concern that Darla might cause problems lingered at the back of his mind as he hurriedly filled a tray and carried it to the study. He hadn’t gotten what she’d asked for, but she would have to manage. He pushed open the study door—and froze.
“You could marry Davy. He would look after you. He looks after me.” Darla’s bright voice dropped. “He had a girlfriend. They were going to get married, but she didn’t want me. She wanted Davy to send me away.”
David almost groaned. How had she found out? He’d been so careful—
“I’m sure your brother is very nice, Darla. And I’m glad he’s taking care of you. But I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone,” Susannah said. “I only came to Connie’s to see if I could stay here for a while.”
“But Davy needs someone to love him. Somebody else but me.” Darla’s face crumpled, the way it always did before she lost her temper. David was about to step forward when Susannah reached out and hugged his sister.
“Thank you for offering, Darla. You’re very generous. I think your brother is lucky to have you love him.” Susannah brushed the bangs from Darla’s sad face. “If I end up staying with Connie, I promise I’ll see you lots. We could go to that playground you talked about—” Susannah suddenly lurched up from the sofa and stumbled toward the bathroom. The door slammed closed.
“What’s wrong?” Darla jumped to her feet. She saw him and rushed over. “What’s wrong with her, Davy? Did I do something?”
“No, sweetie. You didn’t do anything.” He set the tray on a nearby table, then hugged Darla close. “I told you. She’s sick.”
“But I don’t want Susannah to be sick. I want us to be friends and do things together.” Tears welled in Darla’s brown eyes. “Susannah doesn’t think I’m dumb. She talks to me like you do, Davy.”
David could hardly stand the plaintive tone in his sister’s voice. But he dared not promise Darla anything. Not until he’d learned a lot more about Susannah Wells.
As he hugged Darla, the sounds of retching penetrated the silence. Susannah sounded really ill. Maybe he should have ignored her wishes and called the doctor in anyway.
“Davy?” Darla peered up at him, her eyes glossy from tears. “Do you think she’s going to die like Mama and Papa?”
“No, honey. Susannah’s just sick. But she’ll get better.” He squeezed her shoulders, wishing he could make everything right with Darla’s world.
A moment later the bathroom door opened and Susannah emerged, paler than before, if that was even possible. She sat on the sofa gingerly, as if afraid she’d jar something loose.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Of course you should have come.” Connie breezed into the room and wrapped Susannah in her arms. “I’m so glad to see you, Suze. But you’re ill.” She leaned back to study the circles of red now dotting Susannah’s cheeks. “I’ll call the doctor.”
“No.”
David noted Susannah’s quick intake of breath, the way she vehemently shook her head as her fingers clenched the sofa cushion. He wondered again why she was so nervous.
“But honey, you’re obviously unwell. Maybe you have a virus.”
Susannah began to laugh, but tears soon fell and the laughter turned to sobs. “I don’t have a virus, Connie.” She risked a quick look at David.
He understood immediately. He grasped Darla’s hand.
“We’ll leave you two alone.”
“No!” Darla jerked away from him and sat down beside Susannah. “I want to help my friend. Can I help you?” she asked quietly, sliding her fingers into Susannah’s.
David had never seen his sister bond with anyone like this. He prayed Susannah wouldn’t reject her offer of friendship.
“You already have helped me, Darla.” Susannah smiled. “You looked after me and helped me the way a very good friend would, even though I hardly know you.”
“I know you,” Darla insisted. “You’re Sleeping Beauty.”
“I’m not really.” Susannah caressed Darla’s cheek. She glanced at him, then Connie. “I’m just an idiot who’s made another huge mistake.”
“Davy says everybody makes mistakes. He said that’s how we learn.” Darla faced Connie. “I made a mistake and broke your lamp. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, honey. You and I will go shopping for a new one.” Connie smiled her forgiveness, then turned back to Susannah. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, Suze? Because you’re very pale and I still think you need to see a doctor.”
“I’ve already seen one.” The blond head dipped. “I know what’s wrong with me.”
“Tell me and we’ll do whatever it takes to get you well,” Connie promised.
“If only it were that easy,” Susannah whispered.
“There’s me and Davy and Connie and Wade and Silver. That’s lots of people to help.” Darla twisted, trying to peer into Susannah’s face. “We can all help you. That’s what friends do.”
David had to smile at the certainty in his sister’s voice. But his smile quickly died.
“I’m pregnant.” The words burst out of Susannah in a rush. Then she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye, as if awaiting his condemnation.
But it wasn’t condemnation David felt. It was hurt. He’d prayed so long, so hard, for a family, a wife, a child. And he’d lost all chance of that—not once, but twice.
How could God deny him the longing of his heart, yet give this homeless, ill woman a child she was in no way prepared to care for?
“Come on, Darla,” he said. “We’re going home now. Connie and Susannah need to talk. Alone.”
Darla must have heard intransigence in his voice because she didn’t argue. She leaned over and kissed both women on the cheek, whispered something to Susannah, then placidly followed him from the room. She walked home beside him in silence, peeking at him from time to time. It was only when they’d stepped through the front door that Darla finally spoke.
“I know what it means, Davy. Susannah’s going to have a baby.”
“Yes.” He felt horrible about his attitude, but he just didn’t want to get involved with Connie’s friend. He had enough responsibility with Darla. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—take on any more.
“Is it hard to have a baby?” she asked.
“Yes. I guess so.”
“Then we have to help Susannah, don’t we? That’s what the Bible says.” Darla took his hand and held it between hers. “She’s my friend, and I want to help her.”
“I don’t think there’s much that we can do, sis.” Brain injury or not, Darla had always tried to fix the world. David loved that. Loved her. “It’s not our problem.”
“Yes, it is our problem. We have to show love.” Darla let go of his hand and stepped back. Her face was set in stern lines, her dark eyes glowing with the unyielding resolve he’d run into before. “I’m going to help Susannah. I’m going to ask God to show me how.”
Then she turned and walked to her room, determination in every step.
David went into his study but he didn’t turn on the lights. Instead he stood in the dark, thinking. Finally he could contain his hurt no longer.
“I don’t want to take on anyone else’s problems, God,” he whispered. “I was Silver’s guardian for four years while Wade worked in South America. When Dad died, I took over his law firm, and then managed Mom’s care until she passed away. Then Darla had her accident and it was up to me again. I can’t take on any more.”
“I’ll be good, Davy,” Darla whispered.
He whirled around, saw her standing in the doorway with tears coursing down her cheeks and cursed his stupidity.
“Oh, Darla, honey, I didn’t mean—”
“I promise I won’t be bad anymore. I won’t yell or break things or be nasty, if we could have Susannah look after me. Please?” She stood in her white cotton nightgown, a penitent child where a woman should have been. She’d lost so much.
His heart ached to make her world better. But not this way.
“Sweetie, I don’t think Susannah is going to be able to work. I think she’ll have to rest and get well.”
“For a little while, till she’s not sick. But then Susannah will want to work. She told me she came to see if Connie could help her get a job.” Darla dragged on his arm. “Ms. Evans said she isn’t ever coming back here to stay with me again, so we have a job, Davy. Please, could we get Susannah?”
David had never been able to deny his sister her heart’s desire. Not since the day she’d been born. Certainly not since her accident. But David couldn’t promise this. Darla took every spare moment he had and then some. He had to be her buffer, protect her and make sure her world was safe and secure. He couldn’t take on the responsibility for a pregnant woman, too. He just couldn’t take on another obligation for anything or anyone else.
Can’t or won’t? his conscience probed.
“Please, Davy?”
“I’m not saying yes,” he warned. “I’m saying I’ll think about it. But don’t get your hopes up, Darla, because I don’t believe Susannah will want to do it.”
And I don’t want her here. I don’t want to be responsible if she works too hard or you cause her problems and that child is jeopardized. I don’t want more responsibility.
“Thank you, Davy.” Darla flung her arms around him and hugged him as hard as she could.
“I haven’t said Susannah can come, remember.”
“I know.” She tipped her head back and grinned like the old Darla would have. “But I’m going to pray God will change your mind.” She kissed him, then raced toward the kitchen. “I didn’t have dinner. I’m hungry.”
Darla’s faith.
David wished his own was as strong.

Chapter Two
“So you thought you were married to this man?” Connie said.
“Nick. Yes.” Susannah nodded.
“But—”
“I know it sounds stupid and gullible,” Susannah muttered and hung her head. “He said he didn’t want a fuss, that he wanted our wedding to be just us, private and intimate.”
“But to lie about marriage—I am so sorry.” Connie touched her hand in wordless sympathy.
“So am I—sorry that I was so dumb. Nick arranged everything that I asked for—the minister, the church, everything. But it wasn’t real. None of it was.” Susannah pushed away the rest of the soup David had brought. She shook her head. “I thought Nick loved me. I guess I should have known better.”
“Why? When you’re in love, you do trust the one you love.” Connie’s fingers smoothed hers. “That’s natural, exactly how God meant love to be.”
“Only God didn’t mean love for me.” Guilt settled on Susannah for ruining her friend’s party. “Shouldn’t you go back to your guests?”
“I told them an emergency had arisen.”
“I’m an emergency? Yuk.” Susannah made a face.
“Just like the old days, huh?” Connie teased. She shook her head. “Don’t worry. They’re friends and well used to my ‘emergencies.’ Wade will take care of them.”
“Is he nice?” Susannah asked softly, studying her friend’s glowing face with a twinge of envy.
“Wade is—wonderful.” Connie’s face radiated happiness.
“How did you meet?”
“Silver is Wade’s daughter. Wade had to leave her here while he worked in South America. David was her guardian. He hired me to be Silver’s nanny.”
“How romantic. Like Cinderella.” Susannah thought Darla would have loved that.
“Not at first. When Wade came home he was nothing like I expected. But God knew what he was doing when he put us together. We were married a year ago.” Connie held out her hand. “My engagement ring was Wade’s mother’s.”
“It’s beautiful.” Susannah thought of the cheap gold circlet she’d tucked into her bag. Nick had promised he’d get something nicer later on. Another lie. “Nick died and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Oh, Suze, I’m so glad you came here. You were only seventeen when you ran away from our foster home. What have you been doing?” Connie asked, her voice grave. “I called home several times, but Mom said she didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“I got in with the wrong group and went to Los Angeles. It took me a while to get my head on straight, but eventually I got a job in a nursing home. That’s where I met Nick.” She inhaled to ease the constriction in her throat. No more tears.
Connie squeezed her fingers. “How did you find me?”
“I finally phoned Mom day before yesterday.”
“She misses you.” Connie’s eyes blazed with sympathy.
“I miss her, too.” Susannah sniffed. “I was stupid to run away. So stupid.”
“Everybody makes mistakes.”
“Even you?” Susannah asked, glancing around.
“Especially me.” Connie laughed. “I’ll tell you later about my mistakes.” Her voice grew serious. “But what about the baby, Suze? When are you due?”
“April. Around Easter.”
“An Easter baby.”
Susannah gulped. “I’m on my own and I have about two nickels to rub together. I guess, first of all, I need to find a job. Do you know of any?”
“First of all you need to get better,” Connie said in her familiar “mother” tone. “Do you want to keep your baby?”
“I don’t think any child would want a mother like me.” She deliberately didn’t look at Connie.
“But you’d make a wonderful mother!” her friend protested.
“Hardly,” Susannah scoffed. “Look how I messed up my own family. I’m so not the poster woman for motherhood.”
“You were nine the day they brought you to our foster home. I told you then and I’ll tell you again, you did not break up your family, Suze. Nothing you did caused your father to leave you, or your mother to start drinking. And you did not start that fire.” Connie tucked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up.
Susannah couldn’t stop the tears. “Why did God let this happen to me, Connie?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Connie wrapped comforting arms around her shoulders and hugged her close, rocking back and forth as she had when Susannah was younger.
“I feel like He hates me,” Susannah sobbed.
“God? No way.” Connie let go and leaned back. “Listen to me, kiddo, and hear me well. God does not hate you. He loves you more than you could ever imagine.”
“But I’ve messed up—”
“There are no ‘buts’ where God is concerned. He loves you. Period.” Connie pressed the tendrils away from Susannah’s face, then cupped her cheeks and peered straight into her eyes. “God has a plan. He’s going to work all of this out for your benefit.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am sure. Positive.” Connie smiled. “But until He shows us the next step, I have the perfect guest room upstairs. You’ll stay as long as you need to. Now finish that soup and try to swallow a few of the crackers,” she insisted. “You’re thinner now than you were when you first came to North Dakota, and you were a stick then. Eat.”
“Still as bossy,” Susannah teased, her heart swelling at the relief of being able to count on a friend.
“Still needing bossing,” Connie shot back, laughing. “You need taking care of, and I’m just the person to do it.” She watched while Susannah ate. “What was Darla saying about Sleeping Beauty?”
Susannah shrugged but couldn’t stop her blush. “I passed out on the doorstep. Her brother carried me in here. When I came to, she was demanding he kiss me, like Sleeping Beauty.” Susannah crunched another cracker, enjoying the feeling of having enough to satisfy her hunger. It had been ages since she’d been able to eat her fill.
“She loves that story.” Connie smiled fondly.
“Darla is a bit old for fairy tales,” Susannah mused. “Something’s wrong with her, right?”
“She had a skiing accident.” Connie’s voice filled with sadness. “It happened a few months after her mother died. Their father was already gone so David had to handle everything. He’s been looking after her the best he can, but it’s been a challenge for him.”
“What do you mean?” Susannah struggled to decipher the cautious tone in Connie’s voice.
“Well, David was engaged. Twice.”
“Oh.” Not much wonder, Susannah thought. He was very good-looking.
“Each time his fiancées backed out because of Darla.”
“They wanted him to dump her into some home?” Indignation filled Susannah. “Typical.”
“Why do you say that, Suze?”
“It was like that where I worked,” Susannah fumed. “So often the seniors were seen as burdens because they took a little extra time and attention, or couldn’t remember as well.”
“Well, in Darla’s case, David’s fiancées might have had a point,” Connie said, her voice quiet.
“Oh?” Susannah frowned. “Why?”
“Darla has had—” Connie paused “—difficulty adjusting to her world since the accident.”
“But surely she goes to a program of some sort?” Susannah asked.
“She does. The problem is Darla. She has trouble working with anyone. Her temper gets very bad. I’m sure that’s what happened with my lamp.” Connie inclined her head toward the shattered glass.
“When I came to, she was yelling.” Susannah frowned. “But she didn’t act up when I was speaking with her. She was sweet and quite charming.”
“That’s the way she is, until someone doesn’t do as she wants. Then she balks and makes a scene. It’s part of her brain injury. She’s had a number of workers try to teach her stronger self-control.” Connie made a face. “With little success, so far. They keep quitting.”
“Well, maybe David hasn’t found the right people to work with her,” Susannah said. “He seemed kind of frustrated by her.”
“Maybe he is,” Connie agreed, “but he devotes himself to his sister.”
“To the exclusion of everything else?” Was that why he looked so tired?
“Yes, sometimes. David is convinced it’s his duty to his parents to ensure Darla’s happiness, even if he has to sacrifice his own.” Connie pulled a vacuum hose from a cupboard and cleaned up the shards of glass before tucking the lampshade into a closet.
“Aren’t you mad about the lamp?” Susannah asked curiously.
“It was just a thing.” Connie loaded the used dishes onto the tray. “People are more important than things. Come.”
Connie opened a door that led to a staircase. Susannah followed her, curious to see the rest of this lovely house.
“We’ll sneak up to your room this way.” Connie shot her a conspiratorial grin.
Their footsteps were muffled by thickly carpeted stairs. Connie grasped her hand and led her to a beautiful room tucked under the eaves.
“This used to be my room,” she said. Her face reflected a flurry of emotions as she sank onto the window seat. “I spent a lot of time right here, praying.”
“Are you happy, Connie?” Susannah asked, sitting beside her. “Truly?”
“Happier than I ever imagined I’d be.” Connie hugged her. “You will be, too, Suze. But you have to give God time to work things out for you. You have to have faith that He has great things in store for your future.”
“That’s hard, given my past,” Susannah muttered.
“That’s when it’s most important to read your Bible and pray,” Connie murmured. “You have a lot of decisions to make. But you don’t have to rush. You can stay right here, get well and figure things out in your own time.”
“Is it hard—being a mother?” The question slipped out in spite of her determination not to ask.
But the prospect of motherhood scared her silly.
“You’re worried about the baby, aren’t you, Suze. Why?” Connie moved to sit on the bed, patting the space beside her. When Susannah sat down, she hugged her close. “What’s really bothering you?”
“My role model for motherhood wasn’t exactly nurturing. Nothing mattered to my mother more than her next drink.” She heard the resentment in her own voice but couldn’t control it. “Nothing.”
“Suze, honey, you can’t hold on to the bitterness.”
“Can’t I?” Susannah opened her bag and pulled out her wallet. She flipped it to two pictures nestled inside. “They’re dead, Connie. Because of me.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Susannah nodded. “I should have been there.”
“Then you would have died, too.” Connie gripped her hand.
“But if only I hadn’t chosen—”
“The fire wasn’t your fault, Susannah.” Connie’s soft voice hardened. “No matter what your mother said when you were a kid.”
Susannah had gone round and round this argument in her head for years. But nothing erased the little voice of blame in the back of her brain. Her hand rested for an instant on her stomach.
“A new life,” Connie murmured. “Hard to wrap your mind around it?”
“Very,” Susannah agreed with a grimace. “Even harder to imagine coping.”
“You’ll do fine,” Connie assured her.
“It’s easy for you to say that. You spent all those years in our foster home caring for everybody else. I don’t know anything about caring for a baby, except that you need to feed it and change it.” Just saying that made Susannah feel helpless. “What if it gets sick?”
“Then you’ll get help.” Connie patted her shoulder. “One thing I’ve learned with Silver is that there are no easy answers, no recipe you can follow. You do your best, pray really hard and have faith that God will answer. And He does. David told me that when he first hired me.”
“Really?” So David Foster was a man of faith, too.
“David is one of the good guys. My husband is another. So is their friend Jared.” Connie smiled with pride. “They’re the kind of men who do the right thing, no matter what. Integrity. They have it in spades.”
Susannah couldn’t dislodge the image of the tall dark-haired man with the slow spreading grin that started with a slight lift at the corners of his mouth, followed by a gradual widening until it reached his toffee eyes. David Foster had the kind of smile that took forever to get where it was going, but once it got there, it took your breath.
“A lawyer with integrity,” she mused. “How novel.”
Connie drew back the quilt and patted a pillow. “Come on, into bed. Your eyelids are drooping. Rest. We’ll talk again whenever you’re ready.”
“Did I say thank you?” Tears swelled Susannah’s throat.
“What are sisters for?” Connie hugged her. “Don’t worry about anything, Suze. You’re here now. Relax. In due time you can start planning for the future. Just remember—you’re not alone.”
A moment later she was gone, the door whispering closed behind her. Susannah stood up, tiredness washing over her. Then she spied the bathroom door.
Five minutes later she was up to her neck in bubbles in a huge tub, enjoying the relaxing lavender fragrance as jets pulsed water over her weary flesh.
Are You really watching out for me, God?
She thought over the past months and the tumble from joy to despair that she’d experienced. Unbidden, thoughts of David’s troubles rose. How difficult to lose both your parents, and then the sister you’d known and loved. They had that in common—loss.
Susannah hadn’t said anything to Darla or Connie, but when David had carried her into the house, she had come to, for a second. And in that moment, she had felt like Sleeping Beauty. Awakening to a whole new perspective on life.
Which was really stupid. She didn’t want anything to do with love. Certainly not the romantic fairy-tale kind—that only led to disappointment and pain.
Susannah Wells had never had a fairy-tale life and she doubted it was about to start now, just because a nice man and his sister had cared for her. She didn’t deserve a picture-perfect life.
And you won’t have one. You’re pregnant, Susannah. David Foster won’t give you a second look.
Not that she wanted him to. Depend on yourself. She’d learned that lesson very well a long time ago.
Wearied by all the questions that had no answers, Susannah rose, drained the tub and prepared for bed. But when she finally climbed in between the sheets, she felt wide awake. She pulled open the drawer of the nightstand to search for something to read. A Bible lay there.
She picked it up with no idea of where to start reading. She let it fall open on the bed. Isaiah 43.
I, I am the One who forgives all your sins, for My sake, I will not remember your sins.
God forgave her? That’s what Connie had said. But maybe it was only an accident that she was reading these words. Susannah closed the Bible, let it fall open again.
2 Corinthians.
God is the Father who is full of mercy and all comfort. He comforts us every time we have trouble, so when others have trouble, we can comfort them with the same comfort God gives us.
So many times she’d asked herself, where is God? According to this, He was right here, comforting her with Connie’s house. He was the father who didn’t walk out when life got rough.
A flicker of hope burst into flame inside Susannah’s heart.
Maybe God could forgive the stupid choices she’d made. Maybe…but she doubted it. She wasn’t like Connie—good and smart and worth saving.
God had let her get duped by Nick. Why?
Because she wasn’t worth loving. Her whole life was proof of that.
Susannah let her tears flow far into the night.

Chapter Three
David screeched to a halt in front of his home and jumped out of the car.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Foster. I only went to get Darla a drink because she said she was thirsty. When I came back, she was gone.” The caregiver wrung her hands. “I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not in the house or the yard.”
“Okay. Okay.” He forced his brain to focus. “Show me what she was doing.”
“Here.”
He studied the reams of pictures Darla had drawn. Nothing made sense to him.
“What were you talking about?” he asked.
“Actually I was reading.”
“Reading what?” Suspicions rose. “Sleeping Beauty. From that big book she likes so much.” The woman pointed. “I tried to read something else, but she wouldn’t listen.
Two weeks of Darla nagging him to visit Connie’s.
Suddenly it all made sense to David.
“Wait here a moment, would you please?” He picked up the phone and dialed, chagrined when Susannah Wells answered. “This is David Foster. By chance, did Darla walk over there?”
“Connie is just now calling your office,” Susannah explained. “We were having lunch by the pool when Darla showed up. She was quite upset. Connie didn’t want to make it worse so she included her in our lunch. Not that you need to worry,” she added. “Why’s that?”
“Darla calmed down immediately once we got her busy. Connie has tons of puzzles. Darla seems fascinated by them, too.”
Puzzles? Since when?
“I’ll be over in a few minutes to pick her up,” he said. “I’m sorry she bothered you.”
“Darla’s no bother at all,” Susannah said. She paused, then spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “It would be nice if she could stay for a while, though, if that won’t upset your plans.”
Ha! David’s plans had gone on hold the moment he’d received the call.
“I’m afraid I’ve been at loose ends, taking up too much of Connie’s time,” Susannah explained. “Having Darla here would free Connie to attend to her own issues. She wouldn’t have to keep babysitting me.”
“You’re feeling better?” Not that he wanted to know. He’d spent hours shoving the memory of Susannah’s face out of his brain.
“Oh, yes. Much recovered.” She chuckled. “Especially with Darla here. She’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
“Mmm.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Well, I’ll come and get her out of your hair.”
“Really, it’s not— Oh, here’s Connie.”
“David?” Connie sounded breathless.
“Sorry for the invasion,” he apologized.
“Invasion? Darla’s like a refreshing breeze off the mountains. Which, given today’s heat, I could use. This is not autumn in Tucson as I’ve known it.” She chuckled.
“Hang around, you’ll get used to it.” He swallowed. “Connie—”
She cut him off.
“David, I was thinking—” He could almost hear the wheels grinding in Connie’s head. “Couldn’t Darla stay? Susannah and I are enjoying the visit as much as she. In fact, I’ve just had the most wonderful idea.”
“Oh?” He glanced at his watch, not really listening to Connie’s plan. Ten minutes before his next client arrived in his office. Could he get back in ten minutes?
“…Susannah would be great at it. They really connect.”
“I’m sorry, Connie,” he interrupted. “What did you say?”
“I said, why don’t you ask Susannah about caring for Darla after school? She has her certification as a special care aide. And she’s very level-headed. They get along so well. I’m sure Darla would love it.”
“I don’t think a pregnant woman—”
“Don’t be silly. This is October and Susannah’s not due until Easter. I think it would be perfect,” Connie enthused. She lowered her voice. “Susannah really needs a job, David. Working with Darla is taxing but it would only be for a few hours a day and it would keep her mind occupied. The hours Darla spends at her school would also give Susannah some time on her own.”
David hated the whole idea. He didn’t want a pregnant woman in his employ, someone else to be responsible for. Especially someone he was faintly attracted to.
Faintly?
David shut off the mocking laughter in his head and refocused. His sister had to have someone, and clearly the woman the agency had sent over wasn’t going to work out. Again.
“Will you consider it?” Connie asked. “Please?”
“I can’t decide this right now. I left the office in a rush and I’ve got an urgent appointment in a few minutes.” David thought for a moment. “Could Darla stay there for the afternoon, just till I get home? Then I’m going to have to talk to her. This can’t happen again.”
“I’ll make sure she stays. You go do your work. We’ll be fine,” Connie insisted. “But promise me you’ll think about my suggestion. It would be so perfect.”
“Connie, Darla is bigger than Susannah. And stronger, judging by what I saw. She could hurt your friend. Not intentionally, but she does lash out.”
“But that’s the funny thing. She hasn’t with Susannah. Maybe because of the baby, I don’t know.” Connie sighed. “I know how you like to dot all the i’s, David. Go back to your office. Think on it. We’ll be here.”
“Thanks. You’re a good friend, Connie.” David hung up and wasted a few minutes musing on the idea.
“Am I fired?”
He blinked and saw the helper he’d hired staring at him.
“Because if I’m not, I quit. I can’t do this. She’s—violent.”
“She just gets a little frustrated. I’m sorry if Darla scared you. Here.” He handed her a wad of money. “That should cover your expenses. Thanks a lot.”
By the time David returned to his office, his father’s former client was antsy and David had his work cut out assuring the high-profile man that his case wouldn’t suffer just because his father wasn’t handling it. David worked steadily until he suddenly noticed the office was quiet and the clock said ten to six.
He was so far behind he could have used another three hours to catch up. But no way was he going to add to Connie’s responsibilities by shirking his. Traffic was backed up and by the time he arrived on their street the sun had long since dipped below the craggy red Rincon Mountain tips.
“I’m so sorry,” he began as the door opened. He stopped. Susannah. “Hello.” She looked infinitely better than she had last time. In fact, she glowed.
“Hello, yourself.” She didn’t smile. “We’re about to sit down to dinner.”
“Then I won’t bother you.” He could feel the ice in her voice. “If you’ll call Darla?”
“No, I won’t.” She stepped forward and pulled the door closed behind her, forcing him to take a step back. “You can’t make her leave now.”
“Why not?” The peremptory tone of her voice confused him.
“Darla’s spent a huge amount of time helping prepare this meal,” Susannah informed him. “It’s only fair she should get to enjoy it.”
“I’m not sure this is about fairness. But—”
She cut him off.
“Look, I get that you don’t like me, that you think I’m some kind of a tramp. It was evident in the way you looked at me when I told Connie I was pregnant.” Her face flushed red but she didn’t stop glaring at him. “Fine. No problem. But this isn’t about me.”
If that’s what she thought, her perceptions were way off. David had lost valuable billing time in the past two weeks thinking about Susannah Wells, and not one thought had been negative.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, frowning.
“This isn’t about you,” he repeated, noting the way the porch light reflected the emerald sparks in her eyes. The deep hollows under her cheeks had filled out a little and that pallid, sickly look was completely gone. Her blond hair shone like a swath of hammered gold as it tumbled down her back.
“It isn’t about you, either. It’s about Darla. She’s tried very hard to make up for worrying you by leaving your house without telling anyone. Helping with dinner is her way of making up.” Susannah lowered her voice as the door creaked open. “Can’t you let her have that much?”
She made it sound like he was some kind of an ogre. David fumed. But he kept his lips buttoned because Darla’s dark head appeared in the doorway.
“Can we stay for dinner, Davy? Connie invited, I didn’t ask.” His sister stood in front of him, hands clasped at her waist as she waited. She looked different and it took David a minute to figure out why. Her hair. It had been styled in a way that showed off her pretty eyes.
“Do you deserve to stay?” he asked, waiting for her to blow up.
But Darla simply shook her head.
“No, I don’t,” she murmured. “I promised not to leave the house without asking, and I broke my promise. I’m sorry, Davy.”
“Are you really?” he asked, suspicious of the meek tone in her voice. He glanced at Susannah but she was watching Darla, her face an expressionless mask.
“I really am.” Darla peeked at Susannah who gave a slight nod. “I got mad because Ms. Matchett said my fairy-tale book was silly. We argued, and she said I was a dummy.” Her bottom lip trembled, but after a moment she collected herself. “I didn’t like her calling me that so I left. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Davy.”
His hands tightened into balls of anger. Dummy. The one put-down Darla hated most of all. No wonder she’d run.
“I was really scared, Darla,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know if you’d been hurt or got lost or what had happened. I was ready to call the police.”
“The police?” Her eyes grew huge, then flared. “But I didn’t do anything wrong!” She stamped her foot.
Susannah cleared her throat. Darla’s entire demeanor altered.
“I’m sorry, Davy,” she said. “I did do something wrong. I know it. And I won’t do that ever again. I promise. Okay?”
Those big brown eyes—they always got to him. Peering up at him so adoringly from the first day he’d seen her in her bassinet. The innocence was still there.
“Okay. I forgive you.”
She threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug and nearly squeezed the breath out of him. Behind her, Susannah hid her grin behind her hand.
“Thank you, Davy.” Darla was all smiles now. “So can we stay for dinner? I helped,” she said proudly.
“If Connie says it’s okay,” he muttered, knowing he’d been bested.
“She will.”
He watched his sister and Susannah share a grin before Darla hurried into the house.
“She was very hurt by that Matchett person’s comment,” Susannah murmured.
He nodded.
“She hates to be called dumb.” He studied her. “What did you say to her?”
“What makes you think I said anything?” She preceded him into the house.
“Connie seems to think the two of you have developed some kind of rapport.” He couldn’t help but notice the way Susannah’s face tightened.
“You don’t like that, do you?” she challenged. “You don’t think someone like me should be anywhere around Darla.”
“I don’t think that at all,” he argued.
“Darla is a lot smarter than you give her credit for, Mr. Foster.”
“My name is David.”
Susannah paused in the foyer, her face serious. “Your sister is very smart, David. She craves your attention. She feels alone and she desperately wants to please you.” She tilted her head to one side, watching him. “I’m no psychiatrist, but I think Darla wants to prove to you that she’s good at something. Hence the reciting of commercials and such.”
“That’s—interesting,” he said.
“She could do so many things.” Susannah’s voice grew intense. “But she says you won’t let her try. You’re afraid she’ll hurt herself. That’s hard on her.”
“Uh—”
“You don’t think I know what I’m talking about. I get that. I guess I wouldn’t listen to me, either. I don’t have any credentials and I’m not exactly a walking advertisement for responsibility. But please, don’t write off Darla’s ideas too quickly. That’s worse to her than being called dumb.”
She’d put her hand on his arm as she spoke, imploring him to listen. David glanced at it. Susannah only then seemed aware of what she’d done and hurriedly jerked her hand away.
“Never mind,” she whispered and hurried toward the others.
All through dinner David kept watch over his sister and the woman she seemed to adore. Darla told Susannah all about the pottery she’d made in her therapy classes, but it was the first time David had heard that she missed working with clay.
Or that she didn’t like the outfit she wore. His choice.
Susannah Wells had been busy.
“Aren’t they great together?” Connie sat by him in the family room, watching Susannah and Darla with Silver outside in the courtyard. “Darla has a way with flowers, David. She repotted several cacti with Hornby this afternoon and you know he never lets anyone help him do that.”
Just yesterday David had refused to let Darla weed the flower garden, afraid she’d hurt herself on the prickly thorns of the cholla.
Was Susannah right? Was he holding her back?
No. Susannah was full of advice, but she wasn’t the one who had to rescue Darla when something bad happened, or calm her when life didn’t go her way.
“She’s been asking Susannah questions about the baby all day.” Connie chuckled. “She’s very excited.”
“Connie.” David frowned as he struggled to find the right words. “I’m sure Susannah is a nice person. And I’m guessing something bad landed her here, but—”
“Something bad? You could say that,” Connie said, her voice harsh. “She married a guy she thought loved her. When he found out she was pregnant, he told her they weren’t actually married at all and he kicked her out.” She smiled grimly. “Susannah has a long history of those she trusts letting her down, so much so that she doesn’t believe she’s worthy of love.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“Give her a chance, David,” Connie pleaded. “Susannah’s smart, she’s funny, but most of all, she is good for Darla. Isn’t that the kind of caregiver you want?”
What he wanted was a stranger, someone with no ties to him, who would come in, do her job and leave without affecting him. Susannah was beautiful, he’d already noticed that. And she was pregnant.
There would be complications if he hired her. Lots of them.
I don’t have to get personally involved, other than making sure she’s medically fit for work and that she can handle Darla. There’s no need for me to treat Susannah Wells as anything more than an employee.
Somewhere in the recesses of his brain David heard mocking laughter.
Like he hadn’t already noticed her intense eyes, fine-limbed figure or model-perfect face.
“David?” Connie’s voice prodded him back to reality.
Laughter, sweet and carefree, floated into the family room from the courtyard. Susannah. She stood in a patch of light, gilded by the silvery beams, her delicate features faintly pink from the exertion of tossing a ball. She looked the same age as Darla.
“How old is she?” he asked.
“Twenty-two. Just.” Connie frowned. “Does her age matter?”
Three years older than Darla. And about to be a mother.
“Come on, Darla,” Susannah cheered. “You can throw it all the way from there. I know you can.”
And Darla did.
“I’ll give her a trial period of two weeks,” David told Connie. “If she finds the work too hard or Darla too difficult, she can back out. I just hope Darla doesn’t change her mind and blow up.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen, David.” Connie laughed. “Just look at the two of them.”
Susannah and Darla stood together, arms around each other’s waists as they watched Silver dive into the pool. Susannah said something to Darla, who was now clad in a swimsuit. When had that happened?
David jumped to his feet. Darla was scared of water. She panicked when it closed over her head and after being rescued, always took hours of calming. And then came the nightmares.
“No!” he yelled.
But he was too late. Darla jumped into the pool. The water closed over her body. David rushed outside, furious that he hadn’t been paying enough attention. He saw her black swimsuit sink to the bottom and yanked off his shirt.
“Wait.” Susannah pulled on his arm. “Give her a chance.”
“She hates it,” he hissed. “She freezes underwater.”
But after what seemed an eternity, Darla resurfaced and began to move, pushing herself across the pool until she reached the other side. She grabbed the side, gasping for air but grinning.
“I did it.” She pumped her fist in the air. “Did you see, Susannah? I did it.”
“I knew you would.” Susannah smiled at her, watching as Darla darted through the shallow water to chase Silver. “You have to believe in her, David,” she murmured. “Otherwise, how will she believe in herself?”
Then Susannah turned away, found a lounger and sank into it, her attention wholly focused on the pair in the pool.
She was right.
That was the thing that shocked David the most. This girl, seven years his junior with no training, not only saw Darla’s potential but helped his sister find it.
He walked toward her.
“I’d like to offer you a job,” he said. “But only if you are checked out by a doctor and he okays you to work with Darla. It would be only a few hours a day with perhaps some time on Saturdays.” He told her how much he was willing to pay.
“There’s a catch, isn’t there?” Susannah said after a long silence, during which she studied him with those intense green eyes. “What is it?”
David didn’t hesitate.
“Every activity you plan has to be approved by me,” he told her.
“Every one?” She smiled. “Wow, you are a control freak, aren’t you?”
“I insist on keeping my sister safe,” he said firmly. “That’s my condition.”
“I see.” Susannah’s scrutiny didn’t diminish. After a long silence she frowned. “Did you ever consider that you might be keeping her too safe?”
“No.” He wasn’t going to start out with her questioning his rules. “I’d like to start with a trial period of two weeks. Do you want the job or not?”
She kept him waiting, a blond beauty whose pink cheeks had been freshly kissed by the sun. Finally she nodded once. “Yes.”
“Good. As soon as you get the doctor’s approval, you can start.” He turned to leave.
“I have a condition of my own.”
He wheeled around, frustrated by the way she challenged him. “Which is?”
“When you disagree with my suggestions, and you will disagree,” Susannah said, her smile kicking up the corners of her pretty lips, “will you at least try to understand that I’m making them for Darla’s benefit?”
What did she think—that he was some bitter, angry, power monger who had to lord it over everyone to feel complete?
“I’ll listen,” David agreed, staring at her midriff. “As long as you promise you won’t take any undue chances.”
“With the baby?” Her face tightened. “No,” she said firmly. “I want my baby to be healthy. I won’t risk anything for that. That’s one thing I don’t intend to mess up.”
“Then we have a deal.”
David turned and walked away.
That’s one thing I don’t intend to mess up.
For the rest of the day, David couldn’t stop speculating on Susannah’s comment. What—or who—had let Susannah down, making her believe she had to earn love?
He found no satisfactory answers to stop his thoughts about Darla’s newest caregiver—at least, that’s how he should be thinking of the beautiful Susannah Wells.

Chapter Four
Two weeks later Susannah stirred under the November sun, stretched and blinked. The scene in front of her brought her wide awake.
“Do you like it?” Darla preened, scissors dangling from one finger.
“Um, it’s different.” Susannah slid her legs to one side and slowly rose. Thankfully her recent light-headedness seemed to have abated. She lifted the scissors from Darla’s hands and put them on the patio table. “Let’s put these away.”
She’d slept a full eight hours last night. It wasn’t as if she was tired. And yet, one minute of sun and she went out like a light. Sleeping on the job. David would be furious.
“Why did you cut off the bottom of your dress, sweetie?” Susannah asked.
“I don’t like this dress,” Darla grumbled. She flopped down into a chair. “Davy says it’s nice but I think it’s ugly.”
“Because it’s black?” Susannah asked. “But you look good in black. You have the right coloring.”
Darla didn’t look at her. Instead she drew her knees to her chin and peered into space.
“Why so serious?” Susannah laid a hand on the shiny dark head. “What are you thinking about, honey?”
“When my mom died, it was like today,” Darla whispered. “There were leaves falling off the trees.”
And you wore a black dress.
“Black isn’t only for funerals, you know, Darla,” she soothed. “Evening wear is often black because it looks so dressy. And a lot of women wear black to look slimmer.”
“Am I fat?” Darla asked, eyes widening.
“No! Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean that.” Susannah couldn’t tell what was going on in the girl’s mind, so she waited.
“Black clothes don’t show marks when you spill stuff,” the whisper came a minute later.
“Oh?” Something told Susannah to proceed very carefully.
“Davy and me went out for pizza last night. It was good, but I spilled.”
“I’m sure the pizza people didn’t care. Restaurants are used to spills,” Susannah encouraged. “Besides, everyone gets messy eating pizza.”
“Davy didn’t. He had on a white shirt.” Darla wouldn’t look at her. “I wore my soccer shirt. It got stains. I looked like a baby.”
Darla was worried about her appearance?
“Davy was embarr—” She frowned, unable to find the word.
“Embarrassed? I don’t think David gets embarrassed.” Susannah wasn’t sure she completely understood what was behind these comments. But it was time to find out why her clothes bothered Darla. She held out a hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Darla asked, taking Susannah’s hand to help her rise.
“To look at your closet.”
“Okay.” Darla picked up the scissors.
“Without those,” she added hastily.
“Oh.” Darla put them back, then led the way to her room.
As they poked through the contents of the closet for the rest of the afternoon, Susannah watched Darla’s reaction to each item. Mostly negative. Susannah had no idea how much time had passed when a sardonic voice in the doorway asked, “Did you lose something?”
“Oh. Hi.” Darla had a point, Susannah decided. David looked as neat and pristine as he’d probably looked when he left the house this morning. She felt rumpled and dingy even being in the same room. “We’re taking inventory.”
“Ah.” He blinked. “I’m going to change. You won’t—er, leave the room like that, will you?”
“I think so.” Susannah winked at Darla. “Has a certain carefree look, don’t you think?”
But Darla didn’t laugh. Instead she rose and began scooping up handfuls of hangers and placing them on the rod in her closet.
“I’ll make it good, Davy,” she said as she scurried back and forth.
“What happened to your dress?” he asked, staring at the ragged, sawed-off hem.
“Oh, that,” Susannah said, noting Darla’s flush of embarrassment. “I’m afraid that’s a fashion plan gone wrong.”
“You did it deliberately?” Pure shock robbed all expression from his face.
“It was unplanned,” she hedged. “But the dress didn’t work in its original state anyway.”
“It worked for—never mind.” His mouth drooped before he quickly closed it. He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back, dark eyes suspicious. “Did anything else happen today?”
“We did a little work in the back flower bed. Darla’s really good at planting and we both like mums, so we planted a few pots.”
“Then I owe you some money.” He nodded. “If you’ll meet me downstairs in a few minutes, I’ll pay you.”
“Good idea. I want to talk to you anyway.” Susannah frowned. Was that fear flickering through his tawny eyes? Of her? “Five minutes?”
He nodded and left.
“Davy paid for my clothes. He likes them. So do I,” Darla insisted loudly. She hurried to get the clothes hung, and in her haste the hangers dangled helter-skelter.
“Hey, slow down,” Susannah chuckled. “I helped create this mess. I’m going to help you clean it up.” By showing Darla how to group clothes, they reorganized the closet and rearranged the drawers. She paused when she pulled out an old pair of almost-white jeans tucked at the back of the closet. “How come you never wear these, Darla?”
“Davy doesn’t like them. And I’m too big.” Darla took them from her and relegated them to their hiding place. She took off the dress she’d cut and drew on another exactly the same except it was navy instead of black.
Clearly Darla didn’t want to irritate the brother who had done so much for her. A lump of pity swelled in Susannah’s throat. Darla was willing to be unhappy rather than tell her brother she hated her clothes.
They walked downstairs together. Mrs. Peters, David’s housekeeper, asked Darla to set the table just as he came loping down the stairs.
“Now how much do I owe you for the flowers?”
Susannah glanced down the hall, grabbed his elbow and drew him into his study. She closed the door.
“We have to make this quick before she finishes the table.”
“Make what quick?” he asked, one eyebrow elegantly arched.
“Listen, I want to take Darla shopping,” she explained.
“Shopping?” He nodded. “More flowers?”
“New clothes.” She held up a hand. “You’re going to say her clothes are almost new. I’m sure someone at the goodwill center will appreciate that.”
“You cut her dress because you don’t like her clothes,” he guessed, a frown line marring the smooth perfection of his forehead. “Um—”
“Darla cut it. Because she hates it. And the rest of her clothes.” Susannah flopped onto a couch and crossed her feet under her. “I can’t say I blame her.”
His chest puffed out. His face got that indignant look and his caramel eyes turned brittle. Susannah gulped. Okay, that could have been worded differently.
“What I mean is—”
“You mean her clothes aren’t trendy. No holes in her jeans, no skintight shirts,” he snapped. “Ms. Wells, my sister’s clothes are from an expensive store. They are the best—”
“—money can buy,” she finished. “I’m sure they are.” She sat back and waited for him to cool down.
David continued to glare at her. Eventually he sat down and sighed. “Explain, please.”
“Did you choose Darla’s clothes? No, let me guess. You told a sales associate what you wanted and she picked them out.” Susannah chuckled at the evidence radiating across his face. “I thought so. Probably a commissioned sales woman.”
“What difference would that make?” he demanded. “I got the best for my sister. Darla doesn’t need to alter her own clothes.”
“She might be happier if she could tear them all apart,” she mused.
“What? Where is this going?” He looked defensive and frustrated. That was not her goal. Susannah straightened, leaned forward.
“After she cut her dress, Darla told me she wore black the day of her mother’s funeral. Then she talked a lot about spilling and messes.” She inhaled a deep breath for courage. “Did you notice when you were in her room how many of her clothes are black, brown or gray?”
“Good serviceable colors,” David said.
“For men’s suits!” Susannah blew the straggling wisps of hair off her forehead and tried again. “Your sister is, what, three years younger than me? Can you imagine me in any of her clothes?”
“No.”
Susannah surveyed her jeans. “I don’t have good clothes, David. I bought most of mine at a thrift store. But you’re right,” she said flatly, “I wouldn’t wear Darla’s clothes if you gave them to me.”
David glared at her. “Why don’t you just come right out and say what you mean?”
“Did Darla choose any of those clothes?”
“I don’t recall.” He frowned, his gaze on some past memory. “Her arm was still bothering her and she had some bandages yet to be removed when we shopped. We went for snaps and zips she could manage.” Then he refocused. “Does it matter?”
“Yes!”
“Because?” He waited, shuffling one foot in front of the other.
“Because she should be young and carefree. Instead she wears the clothes of a forty-year-old,” Susannah snapped, unable to hold in her irritation. “Because she needs to dress in something that lets her personality shine through. Because Darla is smothering under this blanket you keep putting over her.”
“Well. Don’t hold back.” David stiffened, his face frozen.
“I wouldn’t even if I could,” she assured him. “I’m here to help Darla. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I’m not sure you fully understand Darla’s situation,” David said crisply. “Until about eight months ago, she could barely walk. She’d been wearing jogging suits while she did rehab. By the time she finished that, she’d outgrown everything she owned.”
He’d done his best. That was the thing that kept Susannah from screaming at him to lighten up. No matter what, David Foster had done the very best he could for his sister. Because he loved her. Connie was right. He did have integrity. How could you fault that?
But Darla was her concern, not sparing David’s feelings. Susannah leaned forward, intent on making him understand what she’d only begun to decipher.
“Darla is smart and funny. She’s got a sweet heart and she loves people. But she doesn’t have any confidence in herself.” Susannah touched his arm. “She gets frustrated because she wants so badly to be what you want, and yet somehow, she just can’t get there.”
“I don’t want her to be anything,” he protested.
“You want her to be neat and tidy.” Susannah pressed on, determined to make him see what she saw.
“That’s wrong?” David asked.
“How many teens do you know who fit that designation? By nature teens are exploring, innovating, trying to figure out their world. Darla is no different.” Susannah said. “Except that she thinks you’re embarrassed when she spills something.”
“I’m not embarrassed about anything to do with my sister.” She saw the truth in his frank stare. “I thought…”
The complete uncertainty washing over his face gripped a soft spot in her heart.
“David, listen to me and, just for a moment, pretend that I know what I’m talking about.” She drew in a breath of courage. “Most teen girls love fashion, they love color. They experiment with style, trying to achieve the looks they see in magazines. It’s part of figuring out who they are. I’ll bet Darla used to do that, didn’t she?”
“She always liked red,” he said slowly.
“I didn’t see anything red in her closet.”
“No.” His solemn voice said he’d absorbed what she’d hinted at. “Go on.”
“With her current wardrobe, Darla couldn’t experiment if she wanted to,” Susannah told him. “Her clothes are like a mute button on a TV. They squash everything unique and wonderful about her.”
“But—” David stopped, closed his mouth and stared at her.
His silence encouraged Susannah to continue, though she softened her tone.
“I think her accident left her trying to figure out how she fits into her new world. She’s struggling to make what she is inside match with those boring clothes.”
“So how should she dress?” he asked, his eyes on her worn jeans.
“I want her to express herself. If she’s in a happy mood, I want her to be able to pull on something bright and cheerful. If she’s feeling down, I want her to express that, instead of becoming so frustrated she blows out of control and tantrums.”
A timid knock interrupted.
“Are you mad at me for cutting my dress, Davy?” Darla peeked around the door, her big brown eyes soulful as a puppy’s. “I’m sorry.”

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