“I thought I could take it to the print shop and have some copies made tomorrow,” Chase said, “and then the boys and I can deliver them around town—if it’s okay with you.”
“They’d like that.”
“Do you think they’d like to ride in the Jeep?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Just make sure you have the top down.”
“Maybe I’ll take them to the Dairy Dream for some ice cream treats afterward.” He watched her carefully, as if he expected her to say that he’d gone too far—but he hadn’t. She appreciated that he wanted to spend time with the boys. They needed it—and maybe Chase needed them, too.
“I’ll send money along for them,” she offered.
He shook his head. “It’s my treat.”
Joy nodded, knowing it didn’t pay to debate with him. “Thank you,” she said instead, growing nervous again about what she needed to tell him. “They like spending time with you. It means a lot to them.” She hoped he realized how much. “But please don’t tell them you’re bringing them until you actually do. If you make a promise that you can’t keep, it will only hurt them.”
He worked his jaw for a second. “I wouldn’t do that to them, Joy.”
He’d only do that to her, then? She wanted to voice her thoughts, but knew nothing good could come from them. “I need to protect them,” she said instead. “In a few weeks, their birth mother will make a court appearance and the judge will make a final decision about her rights. I received an email from their social worker and it doesn’t look good for their mother. She’s missed several appointments, shown little improvement in the past six months and is currently with a man who has several felonies.”
His face filled with anger and then disappointment. “What will happen to them then? Is their father in the picture?”
She shook her head. “Their mom did not name their fathers.” And she wouldn’t—because Joy suspected that the birth mom didn’t know who to name. “So if her rights are taken away, the boys will become—”
“Orphans.”
“Yes.” Her heart broke just thinking about the implications.
“Will you try to adopt them?” he asked.
She looked down at her empty hands. “I don’t know if the judge would allow me to adopt them—a single mom with questionable housing.” She wouldn’t wallow in what-ifs. If God wanted her to adopt those boys, He’d find a way. “I just want to make sure you completely understand how important it is for you to keep your word.”
The lamplight softened his features. “I know I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I’m asking you to trust me—with the boys, and with—” He paused and she held her breath. “With everything else.”
It was the moment she’d been waiting for—her pounding heart told her so. He asked her to trust him...with everything. Was it time to trust him with the whole truth?
Chase rose from the couch and picked up the poster. “I’ll check with you in the morning to see if the boys are still free to go.”
He started to walk away from her and all she could do was watch him leave. He was extending an invitation to take a risk on him again, and everything inside her head shouted at her not to take the risk. But it was the cry of her heart that made the loudest noise and it pleaded with her to give him another chance. Not a chance at love—but at believing he was a good man, just as she’d once believed—that he could also be a good father.
The grandfather clock chimed ten times as he took the first step out of the music room.
Joy rose on shaking legs, her stomach rolling, her head spinning and her eyes already filling with tears.
“Chase,” she called out to him. “Wait.”
He turned, his blue eyes full of a deep sorrow, and in that moment, she wanted to believe that he was remorseful, that leaving hurt him as much as it had hurt her.
With one foot on the bottom step and one hand on the railing, Chase waited.
“I—I have something to tell you.” She didn’t think her legs would hold her up for much longer, but she forced herself to stand. She was afraid she might be sick and knew her face revealed the myriad of emotions spiraling through her, because Chase frowned and walked across the room.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She put her hand over her stomach on instinct, trying to calm the turmoil inside her. “Can we sit?”
He nodded and put his hand on her elbow to help her over to the couch.
“You’re scaring me,” he said.
“I—I don’t want to scare you.” Though what she had to say might terrify him. She sat and faced him, their knees grazing each other. She took a steadying breath, but it shuddered through her body. “There’s something you need to know and I can’t put it off any longer.”
He set the poster on the coffee table again, giving his full attention to Joy. “Is it about Bee Tree Hill? Mrs. Thompson?” His face filled with concern. “It’s not about one of the girls, is it?”
“No—well.” She paused. She’d thought about this conversation a hundred times over the past four years, and had imagined dozens of scenarios. But now, when it mattered most, she was at a loss.
She met Chase’s gaze and knew it would not come out pretty—but it had to be said.
“Harper and Kinsley are your daughters.”
* * *
Chase stared at Joy; the words she’d just said hung in the air between them as if she had set them there and it was his job to reach out and take them. But he didn’t know how.
He was a father?
A father?
He stood, the truth of her statement hitting him like a jump in the cold waters of the Mississippi. It took his breath away for a second, and he was afraid he might drown with the implications—but then, slowly, as if his body was adjusting, and he was coming up for that first burst of air, his heart started to calm. Images of Kinsley and Harper came to his mind and he couldn’t deny what she said. They had Joy’s eyes, and her smile, but there were other subtleties about them that reminded him of his own childhood pictures.
His chest started to expand with the truth of Joy’s words. The girls were his—his and Joy’s. He was their daddy.
“I’m a father?”
She sat, staring up at him, her brown eyes filled with unshed tears, and suddenly, it didn’t matter how the news affected him. All he could think about was what she had gone through these past four years, alone, afraid and rejected.
He sat again and wanted to take her hands into his, but he knew she’d pull away.
“Joy, I’m sorry—sorry I—” But then he paused. He was sorry for leaving her, but how could he be sorry for abandoning his daughters when he didn’t know they existed? “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“I tried—for several weeks—but you didn’t answer my calls or emails.”
Chase shook his head, trying to remember that far back. “I never heard a word from you after I left Bee Tree Hill. I thought you’d never want to speak to me again.” He would remember if she had tried to contact him.
“I did call—and I sent several emails, too.” The lines around her mouth had deepened and her eyes were full of so much pain, he could hardly look at her, knowing he was the cause of her heartache.
He had been such a coward back then, afraid to say no to his father—but how much had changed? Wasn’t he here at Bee Tree Hill, doing his father’s bidding, because he was afraid to tell him no now?
“Something happened to your messages,” he said. “I didn’t receive any of them.” His father had sent him to Europe almost as soon as they had left Bee Tree Hill. He’d been without a cell phone or email for a month and a half before returning to the States to go to UCLA. His father had supplied him with a new phone, and his email account had become deactivated, so he started a new one. Had his dad orchestrated all that? Or had it been an accid
ent?
“But what about later?” He studied her face and she dropped her gaze to look at her hands. “You’ve had four years to tell me about the girls. Mrs. Thompson and Uncle Morgan contacted me several times about other things—why didn’t you get my number then?” He frowned. “Why didn’t they tell me?”
Joy stood and walked to a lamp. She switched it on, offering more light—and that was when he saw the book she’d been looking at when he walked into the room.
Chase picked it up and stared at the front cover. It was a picture of Joy sitting on a hospital bed, holding both girls, a beautiful smile on her face. He’d seen other pictures like it of his friends on Facebook, but usually the new dad was standing behind the glowing mom—a first family photo.
Except, in this photo, there was no dad. Chase was missing—and he had no one to blame but himself.
He could never get that moment back. It was gone forever.
Joy didn’t answer his previous question as Chase opened the book and found dozens of other photos of her and the girls—and in every single one, there was something missing—him. He wasn’t there to hear their first words, see their first smiles, give them their first baths or watch them take their first steps.
“After I learned I was expecting twins, I became scared,” Joy said quietly as she walked to the couch and took a seat next to him again. “Scared that if you knew the truth, you’d take the girls.”
Her words felt like a jab to the gut. “I’d never take the girls from you, Joy.”
“Maybe not,” she swallowed hard, “but your father might.”
She was right. His father was unpredictable and ruthless. If he knew about Kinsley and Harper, he might either reject them—or try to take them away from Joy completely.
“I would never let him take the girls from you, either.” He set the photo book on the poster and faced her again.
The skepticism on her face was well-founded.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “for everything. I know I can never make this up to you—and I don’t deserve anything from you or the girls—but if you’ll let me try, I’d like to be a part of their lives.”
She was quiet for a long time. The grandfather clock ticked in the hall, a branch rubbed against a window and the house creaked with age.
“I don’t want anything from you,” she finally said. “But I also don’t want to keep the girls from you, either.” She looked up and met his gaze. “I know all too well what it’s like to live without a father—and that’s something I promised myself I’d never let happen to my own children.”
Yet here she was—and at no fault of her own.
“But, Chase.” She leaned forward, a tear slipping down her cheek, her voice pleading. “Please, please don’t break their hearts. I’ve learned how to live with heartache—but I could not watch you hurt them.” She wiped at the tear, impatiently, her voice growing stronger. “If you plan to walk away, then do it now, before they know who you are—before you can hurt them.”
Chase swallowed the rush of emotions. “I don’t want to walk away.” He didn’t want to walk away the last time, either. He had wanted to marry Joy and spend the rest of his life with her—it had been fear, and nothing else, that had pulled him away. But he wouldn’t let that happen again. “I’m here—for as long as you’ll let me be here.” Emotions clogged his throat. “I would never hurt those girls.” The very thought of anyone hurting them filled him with an entirely new feeling—one that was fierce and swift and instinctual.
He was their dad. He was supposed to be their protector, comforter and champion.
But what if he failed them? On the heels of his desire to protect and shelter the girls was a deep-seated fear that he’d not succeed, that he’d be like his own father—that he’d somehow hurt them, even if he didn’t want to. This feeling was even more powerful than the first—because there was so much at stake.
Anxiety filled his chest.
Joy laid her hand over his. It was cool and soft, and brought him out of his chaotic thoughts. “This is a lot of information to take in,” she said gently. “Your entire life just changed in a matter of seconds. I understand if you need to take some time to process.” She slipped her hand into his and met his gaze with her steady brown eyes. “And I’ll understand if it’s too much. I really will.”
It had taken Chase most of his life to know what he wanted—and he was still uncertain about some things—but he knew, without a doubt in his mind, that he wanted to be a father to those girls. “It isn’t too much.” He turned his hand over, so their palms were facing each other. It was the first time they’d touched in years, and her skin against his still had the same effect it had before. It filled him with pleasure and longing—but this time, it was more than just a physical desire he felt for her—he longed to make Joy happy again, to relieve her burdens and give her something to smile about. He might never reclaim her heart, but he could reclaim her respect and trust, and if that’s all she was willing to give, it would have to be enough. “I will do everything in my power to care for you and the girls. I promise.”
Joy slowly pulled her hand away from his and stood. She lifted the photo book off the coffee table and looked at it for a heartbeat before she handed it to him.
He took it, knowing that with it, he was also taking a piece of her trust again. She was offering him a chance to be a dad.
She turned and left the music room, without glancing back.
And in that moment, Chase knew what he could do for Joy. He’d call his dad and tell him he wanted to keep Bee Tree Hill in the family.
Chapter Seven
Morning dew hung on the blades of grass as Chase walked toward the stone pier early the next morning, a cup of steaming coffee in hand. He wore his Birkenstocks and the wet grass made his toes cold, but he hardly noticed. Ever since the night they had taken the kids down to the pier, Chase had gone there each morning to meet the new day and spend quiet time in prayer. His summer with Uncle Morgan and the Thompsons had left an indelible mark on his heart. When he had returned to UCLA, he’d started to attend a Bible study and had given his life to Christ. He had become a new man.
He passed the tree fort and smiled. They’d made more progress in the past few days, but not as much as he’d like. He had spent most of yesterday on the phone with contractors, appraisers and Realtors. He’d scheduled several appointments over the coming week and knew it would be even harder to find the time to help the boys—but he would. He’d made a promise to them and he planned to keep it, no matter the cost.
The rumble of a train sounded a few moments before it appeared on the trestle bridge over the river, near the edge of Bee Tree Hill property. Chase walked onto the pier and pulled his phone out of his back pocket before sitting on a stone bench.
It was only five in the morning in Seattle, but his father would be awake. The man hardly slept. In his mind, sleep was a waste of time and he’d conditioned his body to run on three or four hours a night. Work was the fuel that kept Malcolm Asher alive.
Chase set his cup of coffee on the bench and stared at his phone. He hadn’t slept much the night before, either, but it was because he’d spent the hours thinking about Joy and his girls—his girls. It still seemed like a dream. How could he be a dad? And how could he have been living carefree for the past four years while Joy had sacrificed everything to bring those girls into this world and then care for them?
He dropped his chin for a moment and closed his eyes, praying God would give him what it would take to be a good dad.
It would start with this phone call.
Taking a deep breath, Chase turned on his phone and tapped the green icon. He found his dad’s number and touched it. Immediately, it began to ring and Chase lifted the phone to his ear, not willing himself to second-guess this decision.
“What’s wrong?” his dad asked.
Chase waited for a he
artbeat and then said, “Good morning, Dad.”
“I haven’t received any reports. What’s taking you so long?”
“It’s good to be back at Bee Tree Hill.” Chase stood and put his free hand in his pocket as he watched the train. The morning was so clear, a perfect reflection of the trestle and the train mirrored in the river. “Did you ever spend time here?”
“What?” His dad’s voice was tight and confused.
“Did Uncle Morgan ever tell you about the history of Bee Tree Hill? About your great-grandfather, John Asher? There has been an Asher living at Bee Tree Hill, and in Timber Falls, for over a hundred and twenty years. Our family made this town what it is today.”
“What are you talking about, Chase? I don’t have time for a trip down memory lane.”
“I hate seeing this part of our family history sold to an investor.”
“We’re in the business of making money—not holding on to liabilities because of sentiment.” His dad spoke as if he was walking on his treadmill—his words a bit breathy. “Uncle Morgan was fortunate that I didn’t sell the place years ago and put him in a retirement ho—”
“What if I took over Bee Tree Hill?”
“It’s out of the question. There is nothing left for the Asher family in Timber Falls. The lumber mill closed down almost seventy years ago. Uncle Morgan never even worked for the corporation. He was a bank president.”
“I’d like—”
“I need you here in Seattle. One day, the Asher Corporation will need a new president and CEO and I want you to be ready.”
It was the first time Dad had suggested that Chase would take over the corporation one day—and Chase wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He had no wish to be married to the family business. His dad worked hard and never relaxed. He didn’t take vacations, read books or spend time with friends and family. From morning until night, every day of the year, he was devoted to the business.
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