For Her Son's Love

by Kathryn Springer

  Anne dropped a kiss on the top of Christina’s head, stirring her daughter’s golden curls. “Let’s go tell your daddy it’s time to eat, shall we?”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Miranda asked, feeling surprisingly at ease with the women gathered around the table.

  “I’ve got some lawn chairs in the trunk that Ross made me promise I wouldn’t try to carry,” Kelly said. “If you can grab those, I’ll bring the cake.”

  “Let me go tell Andrew and Daniel. I’ll be right back.” Miranda stood up, smoothed the wrinkles out of her cotton shorts and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear.

  “You look beautiful, sugar,” Sandra whispered.

  Miranda’s cheeks flamed. It suddenly occurred to her that Sandra might try to take on the role of matchmaker. Between her and Andrew. Which was laughable. Even though she’d begun to sense that a core of integrity and kindness lay beneath Andrew’s veneer of charm, it didn’t mean he was interested in her.

  As Miranda carefully made her way through the colorful maze of picnic blankets spread on the ground, a group of people jostled past her.

  “Excuse us. Coming through.”

  “Look! There he is. And he’s got the whole family with him today,” one of the men in the group crowed.

  “Perfect.” A wraithlike woman with platinum-blond hair brushed past Miranda, churning the air with the cloying scent of her perfume. “Set up underneath those trees. Hopefully he’ll give us an interview, too.”

  At first Miranda thought they were talking about Andrew but as they veered away from the cluster of people from Chestnut Grove Community Church, she realized their quarry was someone else. Douglas Matthews. Even though he lived in the area, Miranda had never seen him in person before. The man’s charismatic good looks and humorous dialogue with his guests made his afternoon talk show a favorite with the customers at the diner.

  Miranda noticed Douglas wasn’t exactly dressed for a hot summer day in the park—he was dressed to impress. Navy blue slacks paired with a short-sleeved white shirt set off his tanned skin and crystal-blue eyes. She wasn’t surprised he had such a following. He appealed to women with his Hollywood good looks while he came across as the buddy next door—the one who generously loaned out his tools—to the men who watched his show.

  A cluster of women pressed closer to him, armed with paper and pens, hoping for an autograph. Miranda suddenly noticed a woman standing several yards away from him. Light brown hair cut in a stylish bob framed her pale face but the ankle-length skirt and loose-fitting blouse seemed dated. A little boy about four or five years old—a miniature replica of Douglas—clung to her leg.

  Douglas frequently made references to his family on television but somehow Miranda had expected his wife to be as vivacious and camera-ready as he was.

  “Mr. Matthews!” The platinum-blonde parted the crowd gathered around Douglas. “Can we get some pictures? And maybe an interview?”

  “Veronica, how did you find me here?” The disapproving shake of his head belied the satisfied look in his eyes.

  “I followed your adoring fans,” Veronica said, a flirtatious smile curving her lips.

  “I don’t know—” Douglas was playing hard to get “—this is a family outing today. I’m not really prepared for an interview.”

  “So, we’ll take some pictures of your family, too.” Veronica motioned to the photographer checking the settings on his digital camera. She sashayed over to the boy and bent down.

  “The camera loves little Logan as much as it does his daddy,” she cooed.

  “Lynda? Is this all right with you?” Douglas asked, his voice low and solicitous.

  Lynda Matthews gave a hesitant nod. Apparently, there was some truth to the old adage opposites attract. Miranda couldn’t imagine two more different personalities. Douglas courted attention while Lynda seemed almost afraid of it.

  “Douglas, let’s get one of you with your son.”

  Lynda had to peel Logan away from her leg. Douglas’s lips flattened as the boy immediately tried to scramble back to his mother.

  “The three of you together, then.” Veronica’s critical gaze swept over Lynda and now she looked less than pleased to have to include her in the shot.

  Douglas picked up a squirming Logan and whispered something in his ear. The boy stilled in his father’s arms and ducked his head.

  “Star gazing?” A low voice at Miranda’s shoulder made her jump.

  Andrew. With Daniel happily perched on his strong shoulders as if he was meant to be there. An arrow of pure longing pierced Miranda. Maybe it was selfish to claim this day with Andrew but when she’d watched him walking toward her earlier, something had stirred in a dormant region of her heart. Something that felt suspiciously like hope.

  It made her feel younger. And a little giddy.

  “Are you feeling left out?” she whispered. “I’m sure Veronica would let you pose with Douglas and his family if you asked her nicely.”

  “You’re making fun of me.” Andrew’s voice was full of wonder.

  “Uh-huh.” She peeked up at him, unable to deny it.

  “Thank you.” The tender look in Andrew’s eyes ripped the breath from her lungs.

  Miranda wasn’t about to ask what he meant by those cryptic words. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Douglas curve his arm around Lynda’s slim waist, Logan huddled between them, as flashbulbs went off like a miniature fireworks display.

  A prickle skittered up the back of Miranda’s neck. There was something unsettling about the perfect family moment the cameras vied to capture. Douglas’s smile radiated rakish charm but Lynda’s pale skin had a waxy sheen, making her pale blue eyes look huge. And Logan…Miranda had seen the same look of helpless terror in Daniel’s face when Hal had shoved her against the wall.

  Miranda pushed away the dark thoughts as another example of how she’d let the past taint the way she viewed the world. Logan was young. Just because Douglas thrived in the limelight didn’t mean his family was comfortable with it.

  “Me and Olivia won the three-legged race.” Daniel bounced up and down on Andrew’s shoulders, drawing her attention away from Lynda and Logan Matthews for the moment.

  When Daniel leaned over so she could admire the gold medal hanging from a satin ribbon around his neck, Andrew wrapped one tanned forearm around Daniel’s knees to keep him steady.

  “And now he’s hungry, aren’t you, champ?”

  “Daniel Thomas, where did you put all those pancakes you had for breakfast this morning?” Miranda tweaked his toes. “I thought they’d fill you up until suppertime.”

  “That explains why he’s so heavy. I thought it was the medal.” Andrew smiled at her and she knew why women found him irresistible.

  Maybe she should call it a day while her heart was still in one piece….

  “Are you hungry, Mom?” Daniel’s eyes pleaded with her to stay longer.

  “A little.” Just because Andrew had coerced them into playing baseball didn’t mean he wanted to spend the entire day with them. “I told Kelly I’d help her carry some chairs from her car but I can take Daniel with me. You’ve spent a lot of time with him already. You must be here with…someone.”

  She’d seen Samantha Harcourt intercept Andrew as he and Daniel had made their way across the field. Rumor had it that the gorgeous runway model had recently moved back to Chestnut Grove. The familiar way the two of them greeted each other hadn’t surprised Miranda. They both came from a background of wealth and privilege and probably shared the same circle of friends.

  She couldn’t blame Andrew for wanting to spend time with a woman like Samantha. A woman more comfortable at one of the Noble Foundation’s galas than the kitchen of the Starlight Diner….

  “As a matter of fact, I am. I’m here with you.”

  Andrew offered her his arm as elegantly as any Southern gentleman would have. And, at that moment, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take hold of it.

  Chap
ter Eleven

  Kelly looked relieved when Miranda and Andrew returned with the chairs. “Trista went to track down Ross for me. Can you keep an eye on Aidan until we get back?” Without waiting for an answer, she plunked her nephew into Andrew’s arms and towed Miranda away.

  “I watched him with Daniel.” Kelly smiled when she noticed the wide-eyed look Miranda tossed over her shoulder. “For a confirmed bachelor, he’s a natural with kids. Have you two been seeing each other very long?”

  “I… He… We’re…not seeing each other.” Miranda practically choked on the words. “That was Andrew Noble,” she added. Just in case Kelly hadn’t recognized him. Which seemed impossible, given the fact they were living on the same planet.

  “I know who it was.” Kelly grinned. “But Rachel… Oh, never mind. Put a gaggle of happily married women together and we start pairing off everyone we know and care about.”

  “Rachel?” Miranda repeated. Rachel Cavanaugh? Andrew’s cousin. The cousin on bed rest who’d never even seen her and Andrew together.

  It made her uneasy to think she’d become the topic of conversation. Especially since she’d gone out of her way over the last few years to be as invisible as possible.

  “There’s my car.” Kelly deftly changed the subject. She paused to pull a scrap of yellow paper out from under her windshield wiper. “If this is a parking ticket, Zach is going to hear about it….”

  She suddenly wilted against the car door. Miranda moved to her side in a heartbeat, alarmed by the grayish cast of Kelly’s skin. “Kelly? What’s the matter?”

  “Not again,” Kelly’s whispered, closing her eyes. “God, please don’t tell me we’re going to have to go through this again.”

  “Let’s find a place for you to sit down,” Miranda urged. “Are you having contractions?”

  Kelly’s hands moved protectively over her abdomen and the piece of paper fluttered from her fingers. Automatically, Miranda bent down and picked it up. The two sentences were neatly typed, which somehow made the message more chilling.

  Make your husband stop nosing around in other people’s business. Or I will.

  “What…” Miranda swallowed hard as past events came rushing back.

  The discovery of the first falsified sets of adoption records and the potential scandal they’d created for Chestnut Grove’s own mayor, Gerald Morrow, had triggered his wife’s emotional breakdown. Lindsey Morrow was still serving time for murdering Barnaby Harcourt and making several attempts on Kelly’s life.

  Helplessly, Miranda put a comforting arm around Kelly’s shoulders. Was someone playing a sick joke on Kelly…or was history about to repeat itself?

  “Will you find Ross?” Kelly asked, struggling to maintain her composure. “I’ll be fine. I’ll wait in the car.”

  Miranda hesitated, not wanting to leave her alone in the parking lot, but when Kelly squeezed her hand, the ice-cold press of her fingers convinced Miranda to do what she’d asked.

  “All right.” Miranda sprinted back toward the picnic area where most of the congregation had gathered for the cookout. She couldn’t believe someone would be cruel enough to threaten Kelly Van Zandt, especially knowing her baby was due in a few short months.

  Slowing her pace to scan the crowd of faces, she caught a glimpse of Trista Van Zandt. Sheltered by a canopy of trees some distance from the rest of the picnickers, Ross’s sister was deep in conversation with someone. Miranda hoped it was Ross, but when she got closer she recognized Douglas Matthew’s wife, Lynda.

  Now what?

  “Miranda? Is everything all right?” Andrew was suddenly beside her.

  “No.” Her voice wobbled. “I need your help.”

  Kelly was pale but composed by the time Miranda and Andrew returned to the parking lot with Ross and Sandra.

  Ross wasn’t. He read the note, his eyes dark with fury.

  “Ross, we have to tell Zach about this,” Kelly murmured.

  “Pilar’s husband.” Miranda caught Andrew’s questioning look. “He’s a detective with the police department.”

  Kelly heard her and managed a smile. “And a good one.”

  “I’ll call him, but right now I’m going to take you home.” The tightness in Ross’s jaw softened slightly when he returned his wife’s smile.

  Miranda blinked back the sudden rush of tears that burned the back of her eyes. Tears that didn’t make sense. She barely knew Kelly and Ross other than as customers at the diner.

  “I’m going with you.” Sandra wrapped her arm around Kelly’s shoulders and drew her close.

  Ross turned to Miranda. “Thank you,” he said simply. “I’m glad you were with her.”

  Andrew felt the shift in Miranda’s mood as Ross drove away with Kelly and Sandra, but this time he was determined not to let her retreat behind the walls she’d built. He wasn’t sure what shook him up the most. That Miranda didn’t seem to know how to accept a simple expression of gratitude or the empathy in her eyes when she’d looked at Kelly. An empathy that told him she understood what it was like to be threatened by someone.

  “Someone sent the note because of the adoption records Jonah Fraser found, right?” They were halfway back to the picnic area when she finally spoke.

  “I don’t know.” He had a strong hunch but something in her expression warned him to tread carefully. “Harcourt accepted a lot of money so certain families wouldn’t have any scandals attached to their names. New records are a new threat to those families—especially if they turn out to be the originals.”

  “Like Ben’s.”

  Andrew nodded as they fell in step together.

  “I think Daniel and I should go home.” Miranda wouldn’t look at him now.

  God, what is it going to take to get through to this woman?

  “And miss the fireworks? Daniel’s been talking about them all day.” He kept his tone light. “But if you really want to, I suppose we could leave early.”

  “We?” She frowned at him.

  “I told you I was with you today. If you’re here, I’m here. If you go home, I’ll take you home.”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “We’ll stay for the fireworks.”

  Thank you, Lord.

  Andrew knew whom to give the credit to. The two steps forward, three steps back routine with Miranda drove him a little crazy. No one could accuse him of a lack of self-confidence but Miranda tipped him off balance with every wary glance she cast in his direction.

  They passed a crowd of people gathered around Douglas Matthews again. Now the talk-show host stood on a makeshift stage with a large plastic bib tied around his neck, responding to the good-natured heckling from the audience. An attractive woman postured next to him for the cameras, holding a pie. The local businesses had organized a pie-eating contest and Douglas had somehow charmed his way into the competition.

  One of the photographers circling the contestants suddenly noticed them. Andrew had quickly learned that hiding from the press or refusing to be photographed only made him more of a challenge. He didn’t want their attention but he accepted it. They had an unspoken agreement of sorts. He smiled at the cameras in public and they didn’t encroach too much in his private life. And that was the life he needed to protect.

  The photographer grinned, snapped their picture and raised his camera in a cheerful salute.

  Andrew shot a look at Miranda but her attention was focused on Daniel, who chased after Olivia and some other children in a lively game of tag. He decided not to mention they’d just been preserved in someone’s memory card. Miranda was skittish enough about being seen with him.

  Miranda tried to remain invisible.

  In a group as large as the one sprawled on the red-white-and-blue quilts Naomi Fraser and her daughter, Dinah, had spread out in the shade of a massive oak, it should have been easy to go unnoticed.

  Wrong.

  Even though Miranda worked her way to a corner of the blanket, hoping to avoid the overlapping threads of conversa
tion, people included her in the conversation with a comment here, a question there.

  Daniel, her usual buffer in social situations, abandoned her after the teens in Caleb’s youth group had descended upon the younger children and divided them into teams for a water-balloon fight.

  Her first response was to say no. Water made grass wet and slippery, which meant Daniel might fall down and get hurt.

  “He’ll be fine,” Andrew whispered in her ear. “If he falls down, he’ll get back up, Miranda.”

  She wasn’t sure what was more unsettling. That he read her thoughts or that her pulse went crazy when his lips grazed her ear.

  “…so I heard the nurse ask, ‘Are you all right?’ and I told her I was doing fine. Then I realized she was looking at Ben!” Leah’s lilting voice rose above the hum of conversation.

  Several masculine groans followed.

  “Buckle up, guys. It’s time for the afternoon segment of Labor and Delivery.” Ben sighed.

  Leah grinned and poked him in the ribs.

  “Zach turned a little green during the last birthing film we watched in Lamaze class,” Pilar teased. “Even though he gave a young couple a police escort to the hospital one day and had ended up delivering their baby by the side of the road instead.”

  “That baby wasn’t mine,” Zach muttered. “Do we have to talk about this?”

  A rousing chorus of yes burst from the women huddled together on the quilt.

  “We have to ask the experts so we’re not nervous,” Pilar said. “Anne, Meg and Leah have been through this already.”

  “So has Miranda,” Anne reminded them.

  All eyes turned to Miranda, who froze like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car.

  “How long were you in labor with Daniel?” Pilar asked.

  Color rushed into Miranda’s face and she choked out a word no one understood.

  Empathetic sighs pierced the sudden quiet.

  “A difficult labor?” Naomi Fraser reached out and patted Miranda’s knee. “I can relate.” She gave her daughter, Dinah, a pointed look. “This one was so anxious to see the world she decided to make her appearance a month early.”