by Lois Richer
Olivia could feel Gabe’s irritation building. She knew he wanted to gloss things over, make everything all right. What father wouldn’t? But she knew that wouldn’t help Eli.
“Am I stupid, Eli?”
“No.” His eyes widened. “You’re really smart, Liv. You do lots of things.”
“Well, I can’t read Spanish books, so that means I’m stupid, doesn’t it?” She risked a glance at Gabe and saw his shoulders relax just a bit. “And I don’t know how to make a spaceship or fly an airplane, so I guess I’m very stupid.”
“No. You never learned that.” He paused, staring at her as he absorbed it. “I never learned reading,” he said slowly. “So, you mean—I’m not dumb?”
“Of course you’re not!” He was so sweet. Olivia just wanted to embrace him and, like Gabe, make life perfect for this little boy. But she wouldn’t be here long enough and besides, when she got involved with kids, bad things always happened.
“How’re we gonna make me read, Liv?” Eli looked at her so trustingly. She couldn’t disappoint him.
“We’ll figure out something, don’t worry. And don’t be sad about it.” She gave him her biggest smile and brushed his cheek with her knuckles. “April and Bobby should never have called you those names, but just because they did, it doesn’t make them true. Okay?”
“Uh-huh.” His big smile back in place, Eli jumped up and raced across the grass to inspect a robin’s nest he’d spied earlier.
“Homeless. They were homeless, Olivia. Even then Eve didn’t contact me.” Lips pinched tight, his face taut with anger, Gabe glared at her. “I’ve never been without a place to live. Why didn’t she call me?”
“She didn’t know where you were? She didn’t have money to find you? She was too proud?” Olivia shrugged. She had to make him understand. “It doesn’t matter, Gabe.”
“Doesn’t matter?” He sounded outraged.
“No, it doesn’t. There’s nothing we can do to change the past, no way to find answers to your questions.” She touched his arm, drawing his attention from Eli to her. “All we can do now is help your son. That means making sure he doesn’t start school behind other kids his age.”
“How do we do that? School will be out soon.”
“He has to get to his grade level. I don’t know how to do that, and I doubt you do, either. But I promise you this, Gabe. Getting that child ready for school is hugely important, if only so he won’t feel he’s what his cousins called him, what his aunt called him,” she growled, a fierce protection rising inside. “Eli is not stupid.”
“I thought the most important thing was getting us a home,” he said, obviously confused.
“It is. But starting school at or above the other kids in his class will also help heal Eli’s insecurities and help him settle into his new life.”
“Olivia, I am deeply moved and very grateful for all your help with my son, but—” He frowned. “Neither of us know what or how to teach him.”
“Correct. But I can find out who does.” Her phone pinged. She checked her texts, then jumped to her feet. “It was a great picnic, but I have to leave. Now.”
“What’s wrong?” Gabe demanded, senses ramping to high alert. “Must be bad. Your face is pale and those tiny lines of strain around your eyes are back.”
“Victoria fell while she was rock climbing. She’s at the hospital. She has several broken bones, nothing life-threatening, but they’ll put her out of action for a while.” She stared at him. “The aunts need me to take over for her while she recovers.”
“Okay.” He waited. “Now tell me what’s really bugging you?”
“I’m not sure I can do this, Gabe.” She chewed her bottom lip, grateful she could talk this out with him before being inundated by her aunts. “But I can’t say no, either. Summer is The Haven’s busiest time. Disappointing all those kids who are planning to come?”
“You can do this, Olivia. You’ve already got the staff organized and scheduled. You’ve worked with Victoria, you know how things operate. And I’ll do whatever I can.” Gabe grinned at her. “I guess you won’t be leaving here anytime soon.”
“I—” She hadn’t really considered what this would mean to her own plans.
“You’ll be giving up your summer in Edmonton, but being at The Haven has lots of compensations.” He grinned. “Including the kids you’ll get to work with.”
“Yeah.” Olivia gulped. That was exactly what she was so worried about. She’d be the one in charge. What if she messed up and another child was hurt because of her?
When I am afraid I will trust in Thee.
I’m trusting You, God, she prayed silently as they drove back to The Haven.
At least Gabe would be around. The next few weeks would show if her judgment had improved, if the tall, lean cowboy really was a man you could count on if things got bad.
Don’t let me mess up, she begged as worry filled her mind.
Chapter Seven
In Gabe’s mind the July First Canada Day festivities at The Haven were a complete success.
Olivia seemed to have thought of everything and invited everyone in Chokecherry Hollow. The Haven was teeming. From sack races and fishing ponds to bouncy castles and a live theater presentation about the history of the Rockies, Olivia had planned something for every age.
For Gabe, however, the best thing was that he was part of it. Between watching and encouraging Eli’s participation, Gabe judged several relay races, chose the winner for the bean bag toss and adjudicated the best-carved-watermelon contest. He didn’t much care for helping with the face painting, but since there was a shortage of makeup artists available and an excess of children who wanted their faces decorated, and because he’d been promised a massive slice of lemon pie, he chipped in. Thankfully, the kids didn’t care if his work was weird and lopsided.
Gabe loved being part of the celebrations instead of standing on the sidelines watching, as he had for so many years. Helping Olivia was an opportunity to pay back a little of what she’d done for him and Eli, so Gabe took the job seriously, ensuring she stopped for lunch, had coffee or a cool drink when she sagged, and insisting she take a few minutes to rest when possible.
Gabe also went to great pains to be ready to assist whenever he saw a tiny frown mar the smooth skin of her brow, whether that meant rescuing some weeping child or solving a new dilemma. By the end of the day he was weary but very pleased with his efforts and thrilled that Eli had enjoyed himself.
“You’ve outdone yourself today, Olivia,” Gabe murmured as they sat together on a quilt hours later, watching the fireworks display. He glanced at his son sitting with Mikey. The two gaped at the colored flashes in the sky, oohing and aahing like everyone else. “Everybody enjoyed themselves, especially the kids.”
“I hope so.” She wrinkled her nose. “Thank you for saving my bacon with that bingo game. Don’t ask me how I could have forgotten to get prizes,” she muttered in disgust, cheeks pink. “My only excuse is that my phone went dead, again, which took out my schedule plan and I had to wing it.”
“Which the aunts did very capably.” Gabe chuckled, enjoying cool, competent Olivia’s embarrassment. “The kids thought the ladies’ prizes were fantastic.”
“Except for Eli. I’m pretty sure he guessed I’d messed up after Aunt Tillie gave him her orange knitted hat.” She winced. “At least he didn’t tell everyone I forgot to charge my phone. I thought I’d done that last night, but—”
“Okay, your phone died. Cut yourself some slack, Liv. You did an awesome job taking over for Victoria. I doubt even she wouldn’t have thought of throwing together that hike after you found out supper was going to be late.”
Olivia shivered then so Gabe laid his jacket over her shoulders. True to form, this ultra organizer hadn’t taken time to fetch a sweater for herself. She’d been too busy ensuring the kids were all warm
ly clothed and that her aunts were cozily ensconced in their lawn chairs with jackets and woolen blanket coverings to bother about herself. That was Olivia—selfless.
“That hike was not my smartest brain wave,” she mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Gabe knew, but he sensed she needed to talk it out.
“That girl falling. That was my fault for letting her go along.” She winced as the bang from a huge red fireball resounded through the valley. “Thank God you were there. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise.”
“You would have picked her up, kissed her knee and carried on, of course. That’s what you do, Olivia.” He chuckled at her dour expression. “What?”
“I wouldn’t have kissed her knee.” She looked so sad he had to tease back her good humor.
“Because it was so dirty?” Olivia had a way of rolling her eyes that expressed her thoughts about his attempt at humor better than any words. Gabe tried another tack. “You’d have consoled her somehow if I hadn’t been there.”
She frowned. “I’m not very good at interacting with kids. I shouldn’t—”
“Olivia, her falling was not your fault. She insisted on wearing those crazy boots despite your advice to wear sneakers. You kept checking that she’d suffered no ill effects and she, like all the others, had a great time dipping her toes in the stream.” He chuckled, remembering the splashing. “On top of that, the hike helped them work up an appetite for Adele’s delicious al fresco dinner. Couldn’t ask for a better day.”
“If it was, it was only because you and the aunties had my back. Thank you, Gabe.” Her words sounded like a sigh as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I couldn’t have done this day without your help.”
“That’s not true,” he insisted, liking the way her head fit against him. “Your middle names are confidence and organization. You’re a natural at this job because you’re a ways-and-means person. What you don’t know you figure out.”
“Ha! Look how I messed up with the kite races.” She ducked her head so her reddened cheeks were hidden.
Gabe tried, but he couldn’t suppress his laughter.
“It is not funny,” she insisted, drawing away. “Someone could have been hurt.”
“By a runaway kite?” He snickered at the disgusted look she tossed his way. “It’s not as if you could have known the wind would kick up, Livvie. Nor is it feasible that one of those kids was light enough to be carried away by a gust of wind. Anyway, you soon got them interested in something else and it worked out.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “But next time it might—”
Gabe placed his fingertip against her lip and shook his head.
‘“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,’” he quoted as he slid his palm to cup her cheek. He winced when she immediately drew away, puzzled until he realized he was touching her scar. “Don’t borrow trouble, Olivia. Though if it does come, I still have every confidence in your ability to turn it into something good.”
“Thank you.” She tipped her head to study him in the gloom. “You’re a good friend, Gabe.”
As they sat together watching the afterglow of the fireworks die away, Gabe found himself disliking that word. Friend. Somehow it didn’t quite encapsulate whatever this was that he and Olivia shared.
“Is that all there are?” Eli murmured after the last boom. He yawned, then crawled into his father’s lap. Mikey was already asleep on their blanket.
“And now to bed,” Olivia said as everyone around them rose. “Is he asleep?”
“Pretty much.” Gabe stood, hoisting his son into his arms. “Feels like he’s put on ten pounds. How much watermelon did he eat?”
“Not enough. Adele says there are five of those monster things left over. We’ll be eating it for days.” Olivia folded the quilt and slung it over her arm.
Ben had brought the aunties and Victoria to the site in an ATV. Now, having retrieved Mikey, they were loading everyone into the buggies for the return ride. Gabe glanced at Olivia.
“Since they’re full I guess we’re walking back.” He didn’t mind in the least that they’d have a few moments together, on their own. Well, alone if you didn’t count Eli.
Gabe deliberately slowed his pace to allow people to pass. With sunset falling soon after ten, parents were anxious to tuck their children into bed. The counselors from The Haven also shepherded their weary charges toward their cabins. There would be no campfire tonight. Everyone was worn-out. Except him. Oddly, Gabe felt completely alive.
“It was a perfect evening for fireworks.” Olivia licked her fingertip and held it out with a grin. “Not even the tiniest breath of wind for the fireworks. Exactly what I prayed for after the kite fiasco.”
“Proof that God answers even the smallest prayers.” Gabe enjoyed the way moonbeams lit her expressive face.
“I like the way you include God in everything.” Olivia’s smile held a hint of wryness. “I try but often find myself fussing over things right after I’ve prayed about them.”
“I’m no saint,” Gabe protested, though he was flattered by her comment. “But his arrival,” he said, glancing down at the boy sleeping in his arms, “has made me more aware of God’s sovereignty.”
Without a word spoken between them they entered The Haven, climbed the stairs and put Eli to bed. Gabe kept a close eye on Olivia as she tucked in the covers around his son, her hand lingering above his cheek before she quickly drew away. Something—longing?—washed across her face as she stepped back to give him room.
“Your turn,” she whispered.
“Good night, son.” Gabe brushed the flop of curls off Eli’s forehead and pressed a kiss there, his heart full of love for this child, this blessing that had come from such a painful past. “Sleep tight.” If only he’d been there from the beginning.
And the bitterness was back.
“Let’s let him sleep.” Olivia tugged on his arm, urging him from the room. She led the way downstairs and then outside to the patio, where solar lights beckoned them to enjoy the night’s beauty a little longer. She sank into a chair and tucked her feet underneath her, her face troubled. “Just now, after you kissed Eli. You were thinking of her, weren’t you? Of Eve?”
Gabe sat down across from her, uncertain of where this conversation was leading and uncomfortable with admitting the truth. “Yes.”
“I could tell.”
“How?” he asked, puzzled by her words.
“I don’t know if I can describe it properly.” Olivia shoved her hair behind her ear and leaned her head against the chair back to peer at the stars above.
Gabe doubted she realized her scar was clearly revealed in the moonlight.
“Try,” he urged, liking that she felt comfortable enough to talk to him about it even though she knew he didn’t. This must be important.
“It’s not any one thing that gives you away, Gabe.” She shrugged. “It’s a combination of the way your face tightens, and you go kind of stiff for a moment, as if you’re remembering she hurt you and are waiting for the next blow.”
“That’s a pretty apt description of how I feel,” he admitted starkly. “How did you get to be so smart, Olivia?”
She chuckled as if he’d made a huge joke, but the laughter quickly died away as her face grew sad. “I know because that’s how I feel sometimes,” she confessed.
“When you get too close to kids,” Gabe guessed, keeping his voice very quiet. “What happened, Olivia? Can you tell me what causes you to withdraw like that?”
Her internal fight was obvious.
But perhaps because she found her new job so stressful, perhaps because she was around children more than she had been, or perhaps because she was just plain tired of the past interfering with her present—whatever the reason, Olivia closed her eyes and began to speak.
* * *
“I wa
s a foster kid for as long as I can remember.”
Olivia blurted out the words, desperate to release the miasma of emotions whirling inside. She needed to talk to someone other than her foster sisters and her aunts. They were too close and might be hurt by what she so desperately needed to say.
Hurting those she loved was the last thing Olivia wanted. She knew Gabe would listen. His quiet “uh-huh” brimmed with understanding, proving she was right.
“All I know is that I was left as a newborn at the hospital in Edmonton with my name pinned to my blanket. I have no past, no history, no family. I have no memories and no records of who I belong to or where I come from. I just—” she shrugged “—am.”
“But you’ve defined yourself since then, Olivia,” he objected with a frown. “You’ve become a woman with a past, with history, with a family. You are loved. You belong at The Haven.”
“I’m not decrying anything I’ve been given, Gabe,” she assured him, striving to make him understand. “I’m just trying to explain how growing up was for me back then, how I always knew I never belonged anywhere or to anyone. That I always understood that wherever I was, it was only temporary. That it wasn’t home.”
“Until you came here.” Gabe waited, frowning when she took a long time to answer.
“Yes.” Olivia sighed. Maybe unloading on Gabe wasn’t a good idea.
“I keep interrupting. Sorry. Please continue.” Gabe’s grin gave her the courage to push on.
“I was thinking. Maybe my lack of family history was the reason I always felt like an outsider, why I needed to belong,” she murmured. “Without even realizing what I was doing, I began to define Olivia DeWitt by being ultra-responsible.”
Gabe’s empathetic nod helped her relax. His dark eyes revealed no condemnation. Just acceptance. Of course, that might change, but she had to take the risk. The feelings boiling inside demanded an outlet.
“In every foster home I looked for ways to make myself indispensable, to be someone they could count on in a pinch. So that they wouldn’t want to let me leave,” she added, aware that her tone had dropped.