Healing the Lawman's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Julia, this is Eloise Montgomery, Gracie Jayne’s mother. Mrs. Montgomery, this is the midwife who helped your daughter.”

  Julia started to sit more upright, but the baby squeaked a protest, so she leaned back again, unsure what to say. How did one start a conversation about a deceased child, an unexpected grandchild and a family torn by dissension?

  “I wanted to meet you.” Mrs. Montgomery sat upright in the chair, a position that seemed to fit her pretty hair, polished nails and the stylish long, floral dress. “To thank you. I planned on coming over to your office tomorrow.”

  Julia waved off the praise. “There are no thanks needed. I was in the right place at the right time and God set your daughter down in front of me. It was perfect timing.”

  The woman’s face said yes and no. “You were in the right place because you’re initiating health services to help people in need. You got word out, so women would hear. You’re making the women’s health clinic happen, and if you hadn’t done that, my daughter would have probably died in the hills, and this baby would have succumbed with her. I know this because I went back and checked you out to see what kind of person you are. And what I saw was quite impressive, young lady.”

  “Well, I—”

  Mrs. Montgomery leaned forward, and the mix of emotions said she had a lot on her plate, a situation Julia understood well. “I am to blame for a lot of what happened with Gracie Jayne. I know that now, too late, of course, but I didn’t understand back then, that people react to all the wrong things.”

  “Human nature can be both sensitive and sensitized,” Julia agreed.

  A frown darkened the older woman’s eyes. Her hands clenched the folds of her dress, causing wrinkles that flowed over her knees like floral ribbons, cascading. “I hated my mother. She was a mean, cruel woman and she left scars that have lasted forever. What kind of mother does that? I wondered. But then I had Gracie Jayne, she was my second child, and she looked just like my mother.” Nerves elongated her syllables, and the wrinkles in the gown grew more defined. “I couldn’t look at her and not see my mother. And when she started to talk, most mothers would have been thrilled, because she was so smart, so bright! Me?” She shook her head, her attention centered on the newborn in Julia’s arms. “All I heard was Alice Henry Wainwright, my mother, and it was as if God played a dirty trick on me, putting my mother right back into my life after I’d finally escaped.”

  Julia gripped the baby tighter as fear crawled up her spine. What kind of life did Gracie Jayne have with this woman? What kind of mother doesn’t cling to their child and recognize their individuality?

  “You probably think I’m a horrid person, and I was. I turned my back on my child because I couldn’t deal with the past and I made her life miserable.” She lifted her eyes to Julia’s and sighed. “Emotional trauma is a difficult thing to see in ourselves. I thought I’d done all right, I’d gotten away from my mother and I was married with two kids and financially blessed. I didn’t understand that Gracie’s resemblance was nothing more than genetics because I couldn’t deal with my past. The poor child never stood a chance with me, and that was my fault. Not hers. I didn’t start to see things differently until she got into trouble. I came to realize that I was the problem. Not her. By then it was too late to make a difference. I know God has forgiven me, but I can’t even begin to forgive myself. And now there’s this child.” She settled a soft look on the sleeping baby. “A gift from God.”

  Julia clutched the baby closer. The image of Gracie Jayne came back to her. So much time lost, love wasted. She remembered her heartache over losing her tiny, baby girl. The months of joyful anticipation gone in a second trimester miscarriage. And as much as she loved her boys, the loss of that pregnancy left a gap within her. But was she as guilty as the woman before her, wanting to use this infant to soothe old hurts? Maybe.

  Gracie Jayne’s mother gazed at the baby and her winsome expression made her look softer. Younger. “I came in here last night, knowing exactly what I needed to do.”

  “And that was?”

  “To make up for what I messed up before.” The older woman’s face shadowed. “To show this baby the love and devotion that never reached her mother.”

  Julia assessed the woman before her. She seemed quiet, polite and sincere, and more upscale than Julia had imagined. She appeared to be emotionally stable now, but was she? How could Julia know?

  “I know my daughter left a letter asking you to take this child.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I can see by your face that you love her.”

  Julia didn’t pretend otherwise. “It would be hard not to fall in love with a precious baby like this. Orphaned at birth, no name, no family to welcome her into the world. But she has family now,” Julia continued. “You’re here, and that makes things different, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.” Contemplation smoothed Mrs. Montgomery’s features. “May I hold her?”

  “Of course.” Julia slipped out of the comfortable rocker carefully, then settled the sleeping baby into her grandmother’s arms. “Does she look like Gracie Jayne did as a baby?”

  Mrs. Montgomery studied the newborn’s face, then shook her head. “Not really, but she does look like her uncle Sean. My son, Gracie Jayne’s older brother. He’s got a very Irish look about him, and I think she does, too.”

  “Celt, for sure.” Julia laid her hand on the baby’s shoulder, then straightened. “I need to get back to work because as nice as it would be to rock her all day, I’ve got half a dozen afternoon appointments that might be irked if I don’t get to the office on time.” She leaned down and kissed the baby’s soft cheek. “You enjoy this time with your granddaughter, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  “I will.” The older woman nodded as she held the infant close, but then she tipped her gaze back up to Julia’s. “May we talk more? Soon?”

  “Absolutely.” Julia started for the exit, but Mrs. Montgomery reached out a hand to Julia’s arm, pausing her. When Julia turned back, bright tears pooled in the old woman’s eyes, then spilled, slipping silently onto the sleeping child below. “Did she suffer, Ms. Harrison? My Gracie Jayne? Before she died?” Anguish marked her face. Liquid remorse left tracks along her cheeks.

  Julia squatted, met her gaze and gripped her hand. “No. Not at all. She was brave right through till the end. Her goal was to give this baby a chance at life, and that’s exactly what she did. You’d have been proud of her, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  Raw emotion shook the woman’s shoulders, but she nodded, and when she did, her chin firmed. “I am proud of her. More than she’ll ever know. You’re young and you’ve got a lot of life ahead of you, young lady, but whatever you do, whatever comes your way, don’t make the mistakes I made. There’s always a time to forgive unless we let anger block the way.”

  Her words brought Julia up short. Unless we let anger block the way...

  She walked away, considering the truth of those words. She’d let anger and resentment against Vic smolder inside her. She’d put on a face for the boys, but bitterness dug deep within. And she’d been a little bit happy that his weekend with the boys was a bust, but that was her selfishness talking.

  Unless we let anger block the way... Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us...

  God’s words, Christ’s instruction. She was guilty of talking the talk, but she’d failed at walking the walk. Forgiveness. Healing. Faith.

  Head down, she headed to her car, went to work and prayed between each patient. She’d played the victim in some ways and rose to the occasion in others, but she had let pride cling to anger, and that wasn’t the person she wanted to be. No matter what happened with the baby, she wanted to be the loving, giving person she used to be, inside and out.

  A package sat on the front steps when she pulled into the driveway ten minutes before the bo
ys’ bus would appear. She walked over, picked it up and the bright, spring floral paper reminded her of the upcoming Easter celebration. With Holy Week upon them, it was a time of contemplation, prayer and sacrifice, remembering what Christ had done for all mankind.

  She opened the gift. A small card tumbled into her lap. She picked it up and read the message scrawled on one side.

  My sister Neda sent me this book three years ago. I ignored it for way too long, but when I finally pulled it out to read, it helped me heal. I want to share it with you today, Julia.

  With love,

  Tanner.

  She opened the box and a book commemorating Mother Teresa’s life of sacrifice sat in folds of paper. The first quote jumped out at her. “Peace begins with a smile.”

  A tiny truth, yet so poignant. She sank onto the step and read the thin book of quotes cover to cover, waiting for the boys. When they raced up the drive a few minutes later, she was able to count her blessings. She was healthy, strong, financially secure and her children were amazing. God had been good to her, so good! What human element made her cling to old resentment and hurt feelings?

  The sun burst through the thick spring clouds as the boys led the way inside, bathing the first golden daffodils in bright, warm light and brightening her soul the same way.

  “Mom, can we come with you to help at the clinic tonight?” Martin put his math homework sheet on the table and looked up. “I can get this done in no time,” he bragged, and while she loved his growing self-confidence, a little boy’s bedtime and their upcoming clinic opening didn’t allow her much leeway that evening. “And then I can help you paint.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but you’re with Grandpa tonight because Sunday night kind of messed up our sleep around here. A couple of nights of normal is in everyone’s best interests, kiddo.”

  “But it was so fun!” Connor grinned at her from the couch and splayed the picture of the Extreme Dominator on his shirt again. “And I have to ask Grandpa to wash this so I can wear it again tomorrow. Or I can just wear it like this,” he supposed, looking down at mac-and-cheese stains across the midsection. “No one cares.”

  “I care.” Julia stuck out her hand. Connor peeled off the shirt and she started a quick load of laundry. “Grandpa can throw it into the dryer later. Are you intending to wear it all week?”

  “Yes.” Connor said. “It’s the best shirt ever. And do we have to go to Dad’s house next week? It’s our week off, and we think we should be able to stay here and play, Mom.”

  Julia turned from the sink, because the voice was Connor’s but the words were pure Martin, and it wasn’t the first time he’d duped his younger brother into saying what the older brother thought. As she sliced potatoes into a pan, she replied, “You need to get to know your dad, and he has the right to get to know you. He doesn’t have school next week, neither do you, and it’s a good opportunity to have time together.”

  Martin stared down at the math and his pencil didn’t move an inch.

  Connor stuck out his lower lip, plunked himself into Grandpa’s favorite chair and scowled. “I want to stay here. With you. That’s my favorite thing!”

  It was hers, too, but Mrs. Montgomery’s words came rushing back... Unless we let anger block the way... “Your dad loves you, and I know your weekend wasn’t the best, but it’s hard to try new things. For you—” she pointed at Connor “—and you—” she directed her gaze at Martin “—and your father. Give it a chance, boys. Your dad’s a good soccer player and he loves fast cars and he’s not too far from the Watkins Glen speedway. Maybe he’ll take you there.”

  “To a car race?” Connor slipped off the couch with new purpose. “For real?”

  “I love fast cars,” Martin admitted, and he looked a little more intrigued. “And now that the sun is coming out sometimes, the cars can start racing again.”

  “Exactly.” She smiled at them. “I’ll call your father and suggest it, okay?”

  The boys nodded as Marty came in the side door, shucked off his barn coat and sniffed. “I smell nothing.”

  She laughed and pushed a package of burgers into his hands. “I’m working at the clinic to do that final coat of paint on the waiting room, the potatoes are ready to cook and the sun is shining so burgers on the grill it is.” She kissed each boy goodbye as she moved to the door. “I probably won’t get back until nine, so I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  “See ya.” Marty gave her a casual wave, but she noticed a gleam in his eye when he smiled her way. “Think you’ll be ready for an Easter Monday grand opening?”

  The boys would be in Ithaca, tiptoeing into their new relationship with their dad, so yes, she was looking forward to the added workload of that first opening week. “Yes, thanks to all the volunteer efforts. Love you, Dad.”

  “You, too, kid.”

  She pulled into the clinic fifteen minutes later, unlocked the door and flicked the light switch to her right. Bright new fixtures lit the freshly finished walls. Flooring had been laid in the back hall and the examining rooms, but the reception area was waiting for them to complete this one last coat of paint before the floor guys continued into the waiting room.

  Piper had promised to help apply the yellow paint, but she hadn’t arrived yet. Julia placed her jacket and purse behind the receptionist’s counter and set to work. She turned when the sound of the front door opening announced Piper’s arrival, only it wasn’t Piper Harrison standing there, looking at her.

  It was Tanner.

  Her heart leaped.

  He stood there, standing straight and tall, then shrugged off his jacket, set it next to hers and rolled up his sleeves. “You’re staring.”

  “Because you’re not supposed to be here. Piper is. She promised.”

  He proceeded to pull out a second tray for rolling paint. “Do you want to cut in with the brush and I roll? Or vice versa?”

  “Tanner, I—”

  “Or...” He faced her as if mulling something very important and whispered, “We could just kiss and make up and live happily ever after.” He laid one big hand along the curve of her cheek. “Because that would be my first choice.”

  She started to talk, but he put one finger against her mouth. “First let me apologize. I didn’t mean to blindside you. The first night I found you here, I hated the thought of this clinic being right under my nose, day after day. On top of that, it was going to be staffed by a midwife, reminding me of everything I’d lost. But the truth is that this clinic, and meeting you, was the best thing that ever happened to me, Julia. I was so mired down in anger and loss and getting even that I forgot to just be me. And once I started to finally get a clue, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “That’s when you canceled the lawsuit.”

  He nodded. “Yes. And I should have done it long ago because it wasn’t about the money to me. Not ever. It was about admitting they’d done something wrong, and paying for their mistake. But when I realized they’d settle even if they had done nothing wrong, my conscience kicked in. I knew that wasn’t the kind of man I wanted to be, or the kind of man God wanted me to be.”

  “And now?”

  His hand caressed her cheek softly. “I want your forgiveness. I want a second chance. I want to love and be loved. I want to wrestle with those boys and take them to see cool things and wake up each morning next to you. Unless you’re on call,” he amended with a smile, “and need to leave in the middle of the night. In that case, I’d request that you don’t wake us up because tired boys are cranky creatures.”

  She reached up and laid her fingers over Tanner’s. “I like the sound of that, too.”

  “Really?” He smiled down at her, into her eyes, and then his left hand cradled the other side of her face. “Because I have more convincing arguments ready, if necessary.”

  That sounded
intriguing and downright nice. “Care to show me?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, and dropped his mouth to hers. His hands lingered on her cheeks for long moments before he drew her into his arms and deepened the kiss.

  Being in Tanner’s arms, wrapped in his embrace, was a blessing she thought she’d lost, but no. She’d just mislaid it. “I love the book you sent.” She whispered the words against his T-shirt-clad chest when he hauled her in for a long, warm hug. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Neda sent it to me a long time ago and I was so mad I shoved it into a drawer and refused to look at it. Once I took the time to read it, I realized I’d been foolish and I didn’t want to be a jerk anymore.”

  “Grieving doesn’t make you a jerk.” She met his eyes. “It’s part of healing.”

  “Well, I took it to extremes, but I learned a lot, too, Julia.” He smiled down at her. “I’d been surrounded by anger all my life, and I carried that into my grief. No more. I promised God I’d move beyond those old ways. Families need joy and smiles. Discipline, too, but mostly? Joy and smiles.”

  She’d reached the same conclusion. Coincidence? No. God’s perfect timing. She pulled Tanner down for one more kiss, then sighed. “We need to paint.”

  “We do.”

  “Time for kisses later.”

  “One can only hope.”

  She laughed. Laughing with Tanner seemed like something she could do forever. She eased out of his arms, grabbed the brush and said, “I’ll cut in around the corners. You can roll.”

  “Got it. And we’re still on for Easter egg hunt, aren’t we? I stopped to see if Reverend Smith needed help, and he said between the McKinneys, Harrisons and the Campbells, it was pretty well covered.”

  “It will be wonderful.” She climbed two steps up the ladder and smiled over her shoulder. “Your first Easter egg hunt.”