For Her Son's Love

by Kathryn Springer

  Miranda wove her fingers together in her lap to keep them from shaking.

  If she offered God the fragments of her heart…the pain of her past…could He really make something new?

  What had Sandra said? Something about God exchanging beauty for ashes?

  The words echoed in Miranda’s heart.

  I think I’m ready for beauty, God.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A soft light glowed inside the diner, backlighting Miranda’s silhouette as she leaned over the paperwork on the table.

  Andrew rapped lightly on the window and saw her start of surprise as she turned in his direction.

  And smiled when she recognized him.

  The first natural smile she’d ever given him. Freely given without a hint of suspicion. Or fear. The smile he’d been waiting—hoping for—from the first moment he’d seen her.

  Why now, God?

  Miranda fumbled with the lock and opened the door without hesitation, her gaze lighting on the cluster of miniature rosebuds in his hand. The shy tilt of her lips almost wrecked him.

  “Have you had dinner yet?” He knew she hadn’t.

  “I work in a diner.” The golden shower of sparks in her eyes glowed with a warmth that stole his breath.

  Miranda Jones was teasing him. Something much riskier than a smile. He swallowed. Hard.

  “But you’ve never tasted my famous lobster Newburg.” She didn’t have to know it was compliments of one of Rachel’s friends who owned a catering business in Richmond.

  Miranda stilled. “You’re inviting me over for dinner?”

  “Everything’s ready. The only thing missing is…you.”

  She fingered the fragile petals of the roses. “I was just finishing up.”

  He knew that. He’d timed it that way. And even though he also knew the answer to his next question, he asked it anyway. “Where is Daniel tonight?”

  “He’s with Darcy. She begged me to let her take him to a movie. It’s animated. She had to borrow a child so she wouldn’t feel silly. They’re going out for ice cream after it’s over. I have about an hour and a half.”

  “Is that a yes?” A week ago, he would have traded in his Porsche for a rusty pickup truck to get her to agree to a dinner date. But not now. Not when he knew what the topic of conversation was going to be.

  Are you really Daniel’s mother or did you steal him?

  Miranda nodded. “It’s a yes.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Miranda sat in his car, cradling the roses in her hands, as he drove to the renovated upscale area near the James River where Rachel’s loft was located.

  “Did Daniel enjoy his first day at the Cavanaughs’?” The last thing Andrew wanted to do was make small talk. His gut tightened the closer they got to the apartment complex.

  “He can’t wait to go back tomorrow morning. Ben built a playhouse for Olivia last summer and it was all he could talk about. According to Daniel, there’s even electricity in it.”

  Andrew heard the wistful thread in her voice and knew Miranda would give her son the world if she could.

  None of this makes sense, Lord.

  His thoughts replayed a familiar litany. Harcourt had somehow messed up Daniel’s paperwork. Daniel and Miranda looked alike. The bond between them was real. Miranda’s reserve had to be the fallout from a nasty divorce. Anything but what the evidence pointed to. That Miranda was a woman on the run with a child who wasn’t hers.

  He took advantage of the valet parking. Every second counted. He nodded to the security guard, who opened the doors and gave Miranda a respectful nod.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Miranda’s expression as she took in the spacious foyer. The developer who’d converted the six-story warehouse into condominiums had preserved the crisp but elegant lines of the original building and accentuated them with dramatic combinations of black and white.

  “This is beautiful.” Miranda peered at her reflection in the marble floor as they walked to the elevator.

  “Rachel kept the apartment after she married Eli so she could offer it to people who needed a place to stay. The last couple who lived here were missionaries from Bolivia. At the moment, it’s my turn.” Andrew wondered fleetingly if Miranda would like his house in Rhode Island. It had been constructed on a secluded ridge of rocky beach years before zoning restrictions existed. The waves practically kissed the stone foundation. The wooden floors were scuffed, the comfortable furniture an eclectic blend of estate-sale relics. An abundance of windows captured the changing faces of the ocean. He traveled all over the world but it was the place he considered home. It was also the place he wanted to raise a family someday….

  Miranda read between the lines. Rachel’s loft was temporary, just like his job overseeing the Noble Foundation. He couldn’t have made it any clearer. A man as wealthy as Andrew probably owned too many houses to call any of them home.

  For at least the tenth time since they’d left the diner she wondered why she’d agreed to have dinner with him. Alone. It was crazy. Maybe she should serve him his dinner and go home….

  Distracted by her thoughts, she’d hardly been aware of stepping into the elevator. When the door silently opened on the fifth floor, she followed Andrew to the end of the hall. He unlocked the door to the apartment and stepped to the side so she could go in first.

  A tiny gasp caught in her throat. The last time she’d seen a great room similar to the one in Rachel’s apartment, she’d been paging through a home decorating magazine in the waiting room at the doctor’s office.

  Skylights in the vaulted ceiling framed the stars against a backdrop of black velvet sky. A wall of glass overlooked the river five stories below, where antique lamp-posts illuminated a walkway through the parklike lawn.

  Gleaming chrome-and-glass furnishings were softened by a collection of personal keepsakes from Rachel’s travels abroad. Classical music drifted from a hidden sound system somewhere in the walls.

  “Rachel loves to decorate. Cooking, not so much.” Andrew’s hand touched the small of her back as he ushered her farther into the room. The warmth of his fingers burned through the thin cotton fabric of her shirt and sent chills up both arms. The contradictory sensation was as confusing as her feelings for him.

  This wasn’t a good idea.

  “Are you cold?” Andrew noticed the raised bumps on her bare arms.

  “It must be the air-conditioning.”

  “It’s on the lowest setting.” Andrew’s fingers skimmed a path down her arms. Wonderful. Now she had goose bumps on top of goose bumps.

  She pulled the ragged edges of her heart together and forced a smile. “Let me help you with dinner.”

  Andrew didn’t smile back.

  Miranda suddenly felt chilled and it had nothing to do with the air conditioner.

  She followed Andrew into a gourmet kitchen that would turn Isaac green with envy. For someone who didn’t enjoy cooking, Rachel had still invested in top-of-the-line appliances. One piece of the cookware artistically hanging from the decorative iron rack above their heads cost more than a week’s salary at the diner.

  Andrew stopped so abruptly Miranda almost bumped into him. “Everything is ready. All I have to do is set the table.”

  “Let me do something,” Miranda offered with a smile, still unsure of his strange mood. “I’m not used to being waited on.”

  “Here.” He plucked a ladle out of a crock stuffed with cooking utensils. “You can dish up while I cut the bread and set the table.”

  The lobster Newburg looked delicious. Miranda’s nose twitched appreciatively as she transferred it from the pot to the heavy stoneware tureen and carried it into the formal dining room.

  He’d set the table for two. Delicate cream-colored plates trimmed in gold. Crystal water goblets. Linen napkins.

  She’d never been treated to an evening like this before.

  “Should we light the candles?”

  Andrew hesitated long enough to draw that uneasy shiver
back to the surface. What was going on?

  “Sure.”

  The trio of chunky candles cast a warm glow over the table and Miranda pulled one of the upholstered chairs away from the table. Andrew stepped behind her, his hand resting on the back of her chair.

  She waited for him to push it in. And waited. When she glanced up, it was to find him staring down at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “Is something wrong?” she finally gathered up the courage to ask.

  “I can’t do this.”

  Miranda’s mouth dried up. She couldn’t even ask the question hammering to get out. Can’t do what?

  Andrew jerked another chair away from the table and he sat down, his eyes piercing her with their intensity.

  “I care about you, Miranda. I care about Daniel, too. Do you believe me?”

  Stunned, Miranda managed to nod. She did believe him. He’d proven it in dozens of ways over the past few weeks. It didn’t make it any less surreal, though. She was a waitress at the Starlight Diner. A single mother who cut coupons and walked to work to save money on gasoline. “I—”

  Andrew reached out and pressed two fingers gently against her lips, preventing her from telling him she felt the same way. “I talked to Ross this morning, Miranda. He found Daniel’s adoption papers mixed in with the ones Jonah found at the mansion.”

  A cold trickle of fear skittered through her. Numbed her. She jumped to her feet and stumbled blindly toward the door.

  Andrew blocked her path.

  Her heart pounded in her chest.

  This isn’t Hal. It’s Andrew.

  The frantic reminder didn’t calm the surge of fear that choked her. She tried to skirt around him but he caught her hand.

  “Talk to me, Miranda. Daniel’s parents are listed as Lorraine and Tom Ferris. You witnessed the documents but you’re claiming to be Daniel’s mother. Why?”

  Her worst nightmare had come to life. Except in her worst nightmare, her accuser wasn’t the man she’d been foolish enough to fall in love with.

  “I know Lorraine and Tom Ferris died. Was Daniel going to be put into foster care? Did you take him away from someone who wasn’t treating him well? I want to help you, Miranda, but I can’t unless you’re honest with me.”

  Horrified, it dawned on her what Andrew was implying. “You think I abducted Daniel?”

  She could see it in his eyes. He’d already judged her and found her guilty. The tiny shoots of hope that had sprung up over the past few days withered and died. Crushed by the weight of his accusations.

  “I don’t know what to think.” Frustration roughened Andrew’s voice. “You won’t tell people about your past. You don’t let anyone get close. Daniel told me he remembers living in a scary place before you came to Chestnut Grove.”

  The color drained from Miranda’s face.

  “What did he mean, Miranda? Trust me—”

  “Trust you?” The words burst out of her as the truth began to sink in. He’d manipulated her. From the moment he’d appeared at the diner with a handful of roses and a dinner invitation. She’d let her guard down and he’d taken advantage of it. “You planned this whole evening. This is why you brought me here, isn’t it? To accuse me of…” She couldn’t even say the words.

  The one man she’d let slip through her defenses believed she was capable of a…crime. A crime involving the child she’d done everything in her power to love and protect.

  The worst part was that some tiny seed of hope refused to die. She wanted—needed—him to deny it. He didn’t.

  “I had to talk to you alone.” Andrew’s voice gentled. “I want to hear your side of the story. I want to help you.”

  “No.” She shook her head and backed away from him while a voice inside her head mocked her for believing in candlelight and music. For believing in Andrew.

  She’d thought she could hide from the past but she’d been wrong. She’d let herself dream she could build a new future but she’d been wrong about that, too. She’d been wrong about everything. About everyone. Even about God. If He cared about her, she wouldn’t be going through this.

  She was on her own. Again.

  Andrew saw the change in her expression. Resignation extinguished the anger in her eyes.

  “I don’t need your help.” Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her. “Lorraine Ferris was my sister. She and her husband, Tom, were killed by a drunk driver when Daniel was two. Daniel was adopted from Tiny Blessings but in their will, they’d named me as his legal guardian if anything happened to them. We lived in another state and I petitioned for adoption. It’s what my sister wanted—she trusted me to take care of Daniel. To protect him.”

  “To protect him from who? Harcourt?”

  A shudder ripped through her but she flinched when he reached out to her. Andrew let his arms drop to his sides. By trying to help, he’d made things worse. Just when she’d started to trust him, he’d proven he didn’t trust her.

  “Miranda, let’s get to the bottom of this. Together. Harcourt stashed Daniel’s adoption papers in the mansion. It’s possible his adoption wasn’t legal—”

  Panic flared in Miranda’s eyes. “I’m leaving.”

  Leaving Chestnut Grove. She didn’t have to say it. Emotion was driving her now. She wasn’t going to lose her son. He’d let his own demons from the past and his fear he’d lose Miranda take over. He’d pushed her too hard, too fast.

  “Don’t run away. I can help, Miranda. There’s something I haven’t told you—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Her eyes were flat. Lifeless. “And I don’t want to…see you again. Stay away from me. And Daniel.”

  “Miranda.” He wanted to wrap his arms around her and make her stay until they’d worked everything out. But eventually he’d have to let her go. There was only one thing that would keep Miranda from taking Daniel and running again.

  She had to feel safe.

  And there was only one place she could run where she would be completely safe. The same place he’d discovered when he was five years old.

  Show her, Lord. Show her it’s You.

  It took all of Miranda’s self-control not to run down the long hall and out of the building. She reached the doors and the security guard stepped in front of her.

  “Miss Jones? Could you please wait here for a moment?”

  For a heart-stopping second, she thought Andrew had decided to keep her there until the police arrived and questioned her.

  “Mr. Noble called for a car to take you home.”

  “I…” She had no choice. She had ten dollars in her purse, which wouldn’t cover the cost of a taxi home. “Thank you.”

  The guard lifted his arm to signal the car that rounded the corner of the building. A limousine. The sight of the gleaming vehicle was like salt in an open wound. A reminder that Andrew Noble lived in a world where wealth and family connections opened doors. He had no idea what it was like to be afraid. Or alone.

  The driver hopped out and opened the door. “Here you are, Miss.”

  Surrounded by the spicy scent of leather, Miranda burrowed into the corner and let the tears fall. Hopefully the driver would concentrate on the traffic and not notice the woman falling apart in the backseat.

  A cold numbness permeated every inch of her body until she felt as if she were encased in ice.

  Was it possible Daniel’s adoption hadn’t been legal? It was something she’d always wondered. Lorraine, who’d shared everything with her, had been strangely reluctant to give Miranda details about Daniel’s birth mother. At the time, she’d assumed Lorraine had wanted to concentrate on Daniel and not on the woman who’d put him up for adoption. In Lorraine’s mind, Daniel had already belonged to her and she’d wanted to focus on the future, not the past.

  Barnaby Harcourt had been a ruthless man who’d manipulated dozens of people during a traumatic time in their lives but Miranda repeatedly rejected the notion Lorraine and Tom had gotten mixed up in one of
his schemes. Her sister had desperately wanted to be a mother but she wouldn’t have done anything illegal to make her dream a reality.

  But what if she and Tom hadn’t known what Harcourt had been up to?

  Miranda knew she should have left Chestnut Grove a long time ago. She’d stayed too long. Long enough for the people who frequented the diner to know she didn’t volunteer information about her past. Long enough for the people she worked with to be curious about her.

  Because they care about you.

  Miranda pushed the thought away.

  I care about you, Miranda.

  Andrew’s words pierced her soul. He believed she was capable of a crime. That she was no better than Barnaby Harcourt. He’d brought her flowers and invited her for dinner while knowing he was going to confront her about Daniel’s adoption.

  “Miss? Are you all right?” Miranda opened her eyes and saw the driver’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “This is your house, right?”

  Miranda managed to nod. Darcy wouldn’t have Daniel back for at least another hour.

  An hour to decide whether to stay or to go.

  She held it together under the chauffeur’s watchful eye but the minute she stumbled into her apartment, the tears came.

  Impatiently, she brushed them away. She didn’t have time to cry.

  She had to come up with a plan.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The first thing Andrew did after Miranda walked out was make a phone call.

  “I just talked to Miranda,” Andrew told Ross without preamble. “Lorraine Ferris and Miranda were sisters. Miranda adopted Daniel after Lorraine and her husband died in a car accident. We need details about Daniel’s birth mother to find out if Harcourt was blackmailing her. And we need to make sure Daniel’s records weren’t tampered with.”

  There was a long pause. “Ah… We?”