For Her Son's Love

by Kathryn Springer

  “Mom?” His forehead furrowed as he held up a tiny shirt, the folds sharpened with age. “I don’t think this will fit me anymore.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  Daniel pulled out a miniature pair of blue jeans and tossed them in the air. “These won’t fit me, either!”

  Something burst inside Miranda, releasing an avalanche of debris from the past.

  Daniel had been a preschooler when they’d come to Chestnut Grove and she’d never replaced the clothing as Daniel had grown. She couldn’t believe it. The suitcases had become frozen in time. Expecting the worst. Waiting.

  Just like you.

  Something loosened inside her. Making room for a helpless giggle.

  She followed Daniel’s example. Into the air went an outdated shirt—one she hadn’t been too fond of when she’d bought it. She juggled two pairs of socks and then tossed them over her head before reaching for the next item.

  Laughing, Miranda didn’t hear the soft tap on the door. But Daniel did. He rushed to answer it and Miranda heard the familiar voice and Daniel’s enthusiastic greeting.

  “Hi, Andrew!”

  A scarf drifted down and landed on Miranda’s knee as her eyes met Andrew’s.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Andrew swung Daniel up in his arms and perched him on his shoulders.

  Forward.

  The word stumbled recklessly out of her heart. Out of the laughter. And, for the first time, it felt like a good place to go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He had to be dreaming. It was the only explanation. Bright afternoon sunlight flooded the tiny living room, unhampered by the heavy drapes that had covered the windows the last time he’d been there. Everything crafted from wood—from the floor beneath his feet to the trim on the old velvet couch—reflected a warm, satin glow. A large wicker hamper overflowing with children’s books had taken over the spot where the ornate side table had been. The glass birds had been swept from the shelf to make room for the creamy rose that bowed gracefully in a slender, hand-painted vase.

  Andrew knew he was staring at Miranda like an idiot but he couldn’t help himself. The changes in the room weren’t the only ones he noticed. The sound of Miranda’s laughter had swept over him like a late summer coastal breeze. Light. Dazzling. Carrying the scent of change.

  It was the last thing he’d expected to see when Daniel had opened the door.

  Why was he always surprised when he went to a place and found God already there?

  “We’re painting my bedroom.” Daniel broke the silence. “Do you want to help?”

  “Daniel!” Miranda gasped. “I’m sure Andrew doesn’t want to get paint all over his clothes.”

  She wouldn’t look at him now. If she had, she would have noticed he wore a T-shirt and an ancient pair of blue jeans. The nicks and worn spots in the denim were real, not strategically placed there by a savvy designer.

  “Let me guess—” Andrew directed his attention to Daniel, politely ignoring Miranda while she frantically stuffed clothing back into the suitcase “—you picked out the color…pink.”

  Daniel giggled. “No.”

  “Lavender.”

  “It’s already that color.”

  It was? Somehow he’d missed that the night he’d tucked Daniel into bed. The room had been dark. The poor kid had lived with purple walls for four years? A sudden surge of hope jacked up his heart rate. Why was Miranda fixing up the apartment now? What had changed?

  “It’s green.” Daniel decided he’d made him guess long enough.

  “Green.” Andrew smacked his palm against his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  The reward for his foolishness was another round of childish giggles. It reminded him of the chimes that rang in the bell tower of Chestnut Grove Community Church at noon every day. He never got tired of hearing them.

  “If we’re done by five o’clock, Mom’s going to order pizza. From Gabriella’s.”

  “Never let it be said that I turned down pizza from Gabriella’s.” Andrew winked at him.

  “Sometimes you do,” Miranda reminded him quietly.

  Andrew absorbed the hit, knowing he deserved it. Over the last few days he’d struggled with the knowledge that he was asking Miranda to give him something he wasn’t willing to give her. Trust. He’d tried to rationalize it with logic. If he told her what he did—who he was—there was a lot more at stake than a simple sharing of information. But even knowing that left him feeling like a hypocrite. Especially when he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t leave. Again. Without explanation.

  He couldn’t explain what brought him to their door on a Saturday morning. He’d stopped by the diner for breakfast and Sandra had casually mentioned Miranda had the weekend off.

  After dropping Daniel off without a word a few days ago, Andrew had no idea if there would be a welcoming committee to meet him at the door. But he didn’t care. He’d learned to recognize the nudge of the Spirit and that nudge told him to go to Miranda’s.

  And now he knew why.

  He could help her finish what she’d started.

  “The apartment looks…homey.”

  Miranda’s face drained of color. Had he used the wrong word? Or the right one?

  “Thank you.” She rose to her feet and brushed off an invisible speck of dust from her knees. Once again Andrew absorbed her simple beauty. Even without makeup, her skin was flawless. The bandanna she’d used to pull her hair back only served to accentuate the classical lines of her face and gold-dust eyes.

  But the laughter in those eyes was new.

  “Come on, Andrew.” Daniel bumped his heels against Andrew’s sides as if he were a reluctant trail horse.

  Andrew didn’t move. He wouldn’t stay unless Miranda invited him. He wouldn’t push her and jeopardize the changes he saw. Or put shadows back in her eyes.

  Miranda’s shoulder lifted and fell. “You can see the paint Daniel picked out.”

  As far as invitations went, it didn’t fall into the warm, cheery category. But it was a start.

  He stepped around the suitcases, guided by the press of Daniel’s hands on his shoulders.

  “I’m just organizing things.” Miranda must have seen his curious look.

  He’d felt a stab of dread when he’d spotted the two suitcases on the floor and even though he knew there was more to the explanation than what Miranda was willing to share, his tension eased. He’d witnessed that airborne pair of socks. She’d been unpacking the suitcase.

  Daniel’s curtains were draped over a wooden chair in the corner, leaving his window bare, too. A drop cloth shrouded the bed, protecting it from drips. The room wasn’t quite as barren as the living room but he noticed they didn’t have much in the way of material possessions. Two bright yellow bins storing Daniel’s toys stood in the closet and a microscope with a neat stack of slides was the centerpiece of the corner desk. A poster of the United States was tacked to the wall and a homemade mobile of the solar system swayed above his head, suspended by fishing line.

  The only things on the nightstand next to Daniel’s bed were a lamp shaped like an airplane and the baseball glove Andrew had given him. The lack of pictures in the house disturbed him. Even if Miranda and Daniel’s father had divorced, it wouldn’t be unusual for Daniel to have a photograph of his father in his bedroom. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering about the man who had captured Miranda’s heart. And then broken it.

  Andrew leaned over and Daniel slid down his arm.

  “We’re going to paint my bedroom first. And then the kitchen,” Daniel said. “Maybe we’ll even get a new stove. One that isn’t from the Dark Ages. Right, Mom?”

  “Daniel Thomas.” Miranda slanted a meaningful look in his direction. “I’m sure Andrew doesn’t want to hear all our plans.”

  Daniel ducked his head at the hint of exasperation in her voice. Andrew reached out and ruffled his hair.

  “She used the dreaded middle name,” he said solemnly. “You
know what that means, don’t you, sport?”

  “I’m in trouble.”

  “Almost in trouble. First, middle and last means you’re in trouble. Unless things have changed since I was your age.”

  Daniel’s deep sigh was telling. “No. They haven’t.”

  “I don’t know if I like this.” Miranda tried desperately not to smile. “It just occurred to me I’m outnumbered. Two against one.”

  That was because she hadn’t figured out yet that he was on her side.

  Andrew picked up a paintbrush. “It’s two-thirty. That gives us two and a half hours to make our pizza deadline.”

  “No.”

  There was a moment of absolute silence in the room.

  Daniel slid a worried glance at Andrew. “But, Mom—”

  “No buts.” She dipped it into the green paint and made an O on the wall. “We’ve got a game to finish first.”

  Daniel paused long enough to give Andrew an enthusiastic high five. Then he promptly beat her at tic-tac-toe.

  Andrew tuned Daniel’s clock radio to a station that played upbeat Christian music. Daniel began to hum along with one of the songs.

  “We sang this one at Sonshine Camp,” he told her. “Mrs. Fraser taught us lots of songs.”

  Andrew joined in, his smooth tenor raising goose bumps on her arms. It didn’t make sense to her how Andrew could live a life of wasteful luxury and leave a trail of broken hearts while professing to follow Jesus. His faith seemed genuine, though, not the save-it-for-Sunday kind meant to impress people. It was almost as if Andrew was two different people. Or maybe he was like Hal. Pretending to be the kind of man she needed.

  I don’t need Andrew, she reminded herself. And he certainly doesn’t need me.

  When Andrew Noble finally decided to settle down, it would be with a woman as comfortable with wealth and privilege as he was. Someone who knew how to entertain important people. Someone who could drop everything on a moment’s notice to fly to Paris. Someone like Samantha Harcourt.

  Daniel and Andrew joined their voices enthusiastically in the chorus of the song. Daniel used his paintbrush as a drumstick against the side of the can while Andrew turned his into a conductor’s baton.

  She was amazed at how relaxed and content Daniel seemed to be in Andrew’s company.

  He needed a dad. But in order for that to happen, she needed a husband. And she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to trust someone with her heart again.

  Family.

  Andrew knew he could get used to it. Even if it wasn’t his.

  He’d discovered early on that playing the role of wealthy vagabond, jet-setting on a moment’s notice to exotic places, made people—like his curious cousin Rachel—less suspicious when he disappeared for days while searching for a missing child. He hadn’t realized how starved his soul was for routine. For stability.

  Daniel, spattered with paint, buzzed around the room like an energetic honeybee. Miranda occasionally took her brush and smoothed out a drip he’d forgotten. Never scolding. Never asking for a level of perfection a seven-year-old wasn’t capable of.

  She reminded him of his mom. Clara Noble had raised him the same way. With an inexhaustible well of patience and a box of Band-Aids always in reach. She hadn’t skimped on hugs or a stern look when the occasion called for it. Clara had been there to calm his fears every time he’d relived the final hours of his abduction. For months afterward, he’d woken up and found her asleep in the rocking chair in his bedroom, as if she’d sensed he might need her during the night.

  Miranda was a bit overprotective but Daniel was blessed to have a mother who would be there for him, no matter what.

  “Painting makes me hungry,” Daniel announced. “If I eat a cookie, I’ll still have room for pizza.”

  “Me, too.” Andrew grinned down at Miranda from the top of the ladder.

  “Men.” Miranda rolled her eyes and put the paintbrush down. “I’ll be right back.”

  Andrew hopped down from the ladder when she left the room. “Smart move, Danny boy.”

  Daniel flopped down on the braided rug, eager to take a break. A streak of green ran from his wrist to his elbow where he’d accidentally brushed against the wall. “I’m tired,” he said with a heartfelt sigh. “Did you see my microscope? I got it for Christmas last year.”

  “It’s a beauty.” Andrew made a point of examining it more closely. “I had one of these when I was about your age.”

  “I have a book to go along with it. Want to see?” Daniel jumped up and opened the drawer of his nightstand. It was crammed with a small boy’s treasures, which Daniel carefully removed and put on the bed.

  A card snagged Andrew’s attention. Obviously handmade, the front featured a cartoon figure shaped like a ball. The glasses on the large brown eyes gave it away as to who it was supposed to be. Without thinking, he flipped it open to read the inscription.

  To Daniel—my little Georgia Peach

  Congratulations on First Place in the Science Fair!

  Love, Mom

  Daniel saw him reading it and wrinkled his nose. “That’s what she calls me sometimes. It’s silly, isn’t it? I like champ better,” he confided.

  Andrew’s gut tightened. He glanced at the door and heard Miranda still moving around in the kitchen.

  “Why does she call you that?” he asked casually. “Did you used to live in Georgia?”

  The sparkle in Daniel’s eyes faded. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You don’t remember moving to Chestnut Grove?”

  Daniel looked down at the floor. “No.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I remember the scary place.”

  Andrew stilled. “The scary place?”

  “Mom thinks I don’t remember it, but I do,” Daniel said. “I think it was a scary place for her, too.”

  “What do you remember?” Andrew felt a twinge of guilt for prompting Daniel to answer his questions, but the lost look in Daniel’s eyes unsettled him.

  “I remember—”

  “Daniel.”

  Andrew hadn’t heard Miranda return but suddenly she was standing in the doorway behind them with a plate of cookies in her hand. Had she overheard their conversation?

  Daniel bit his lip. “I wanted Andrew to see the microscope book.”

  Andrew scooped up the contents of the drawer and gave them back to Daniel, careful to slip the card in without Miranda noticing.

  He was more certain than ever that something had happened to put suspicion in Miranda’s eyes. Something that cast shadows on Daniel’s young memory.

  The scary place.

  Where was it? And what had happened there?

  Turning her back so Andrew wouldn’t notice the way her fingers trembled, Miranda set the plate of cookies down.

  Daniel’s words had shaken her to the core.

  He’d never asked her about the past. Never, even out of childish curiosity. He had no memory of his parents but Miranda had explained the best she could that they were in heaven. It was important for him to know how much Lorraine and Tom had loved him, how they’d entrusted her to take care of him. For a few months after their deaths, Miranda had corrected Daniel when he’d called her Mama.

  I’m Aunt Mandi, she’d reminded him, overwhelmed with guilt and feelings of inadequacy. Lorraine had been born to be a mother while Miranda had always been more career minded, pursuing her college degree and working her way up to loans manager at the bank.

  Changing from the doting aunt who stopped by on the weekends with toys and treats to become the full-time mother of a toddler had left her reeling. And vulnerable.

  With vivid clarity, she remembered the night she’d stopped insisting Daniel call her Aunt Mandi. An hour after she’d put him to bed in his crib, he’d started sobbing uncontrollably. Daniel’s pediatrician had warned her Daniel would grieve his parents’ death but would lack the words or ability to express his feelings. They would play out in the only way a two-year-old could express the
m. In tantrums or tears.

  She’d gone into the bedroom and taken Daniel into her arms.

  “Shh. Aunt Mandi’s here,” she murmured.

  The tears hadn’t stopped. If anything, the decibel level in the room increased.

  No. Mama.

  They clung together while hiccups punctuated Daniel’s sobs. Miranda realized the difference between being an aunt and a mother was the ability to go back to her own life. Now, Daniel was her life.

  “Mama’s here, Daniel. Go to sleep.”

  As if her words had flipped an invisible switch, Daniel snuggled against her and closed his eyes.

  A fierce rush of emotion swept through her. She hadn’t given birth to Daniel. She felt totally unprepared for the task she’d been given but at that moment she knew this was what Lorraine would have wanted. Miranda wasn’t Aunt Mandi anymore. In that moment, Daniel had truly become her son.

  Miranda took a deep breath and slanted a look at Andrew. He and Daniel were trying to determine which cookie had the most chocolate chips. Maybe he’d interpret Daniel’s mention of “the scary place” to a child’s active imagination.

  It unsettled her how quickly Daniel had formed an attachment to a man who took pride in having no attachments. At least, for more than a day or two.

  “Aren’t you going to answer the phone, Mom?”

  Andrew and Daniel were both staring at her now. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t even heard it ring.

  She returned moments later, a little dazed by the fact the call was for Daniel. She handed him the phone.

  “For me?” Daniel grinned. He struck a casual pose that had both adults in the room trying not to laugh. “Hello?” He lowered the phone. “It’s Olivia.”

  Miranda thought she’d recognized the voice.

  “I think so. Let me ask my mom.” Daniel’s eyes shone. “She wants me to go to Sunday school with her in the morning. Her mom and dad will pick me up. She says you can come, too.”

  Red flags waved in Miranda’s mind. Was that why Leah had offered to watch Daniel? Because she hoped to bring new recruits through the doors of Chestnut Grove Community Church?