Eden sniffed the moisture in the air as she saw the mail carrier stop at the end of the drive. Please, please, let it be there. The gravel slipped around under her boots as she rushed to get the mail. The huge box was filled with envelopes. She pulled all of it out and began to go through it as the wind kicked up around her.
Bits of sand pummeled her bare arms, but she barely noticed as her gaze fell on the return address of one of the envelopes. The lab results. There were three more pieces of mail just like it. She quickly sorted the envelopes. Four white rectangular pieces of paper. One of them would tell her which little girl was their Brianna.
She could barely think, barely breathe. Where was Clay? She had to do this with him. He deserved to see it first. He’d never lost hope, never given up. She started for the house as thunder rolled across the desert and hills. Light flickered in the depths of the cloud, and she smelled ozone. While she watched, a sliver of darkness reached down from a rotating cloud. For a moment, she didn’t realize what she was seeing. Then it sank in. A tornado!
She started for the house at a run. The tornado was heading straight for the ranch. “Clay!” she screamed over the sound that intensified around her. The wind howled so loudly it sounded like a train. She saw Allie point, then gather the children to her. They all ran toward the house, then disappeared inside. At least the girls were safe. Allie would take them to the cellar.
Eden struggled to run in the wind. It felt as though she was making no progress. It was these dratted boots. They were still stiff, and it would take too long to sit down and pull them off. Her epitaph would read DONE IN BY NEW BOOTS.
The horses were going berserk. Buzz and the other hands were trying to get them inside the barn, but she wondered if that would protect them. Where was Clay? She screamed his name again, but the wind snatched away the sound of her voice.
Then she saw him. He had a tripod set up at the side of the barn and was busy snapping pictures of the twister as it ripped up cactus and sucked sand into its mouth. Was it larger? She thought so. It roared toward them and she stood, mouth gaping at the destruction.
She glanced back to the barn to see that Clay had noticed her. He was shouting something but she couldn’t make out what it was. He grabbed his camera from the tripod, then ran toward her waving his arms. She veered toward him, changing her original course of heading to the house.
They met in the side yard. “Get to shelter!” he shouted. He grabbed her arm and hustled her toward the barn, which was the nearest structure. The side door was shut, but he kicked it open and half dragged her inside as the tornado reached the end of the driveway.
“There’s no basement in here!” she shouted above the din of screaming horses and high winds.
He paused and looked frantically around the space. “Under the feed trough!” He thrust her under a heavy wooden bin in the middle stall, then jumped on top of her.
His weight pressed the air from her lungs. Or was it the sudden closeness of the twister that sucked all the oxygen from her chest? She clung to him and listened to his ragged breathing in her ear. The wind roared all around them. She couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate on anything but the thought that they were about to die before they found Brianna.
The pressure in her ears began to let up. The sound of a freight train about to run them over suddenly vanished. She drew in a lung-ful of oxygen. Then another. Breaths came more easily, or they would when Clay got off of her.
He lifted his head and stared into her face. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I think so. We need to get to the girls. They’ll be frightened in the cellar.”
He rolled off her and helped her to her feet. “We still have a roof on the barn.”
She glanced up and saw he was right. “I can’t even see any daylight through it.”
A child called out, “Mr. Clay!” It sounded like Paige, their fearful one.
In unison, they rushed toward the door and stepped out into blue sky. The ominous cloud was to their northeast now. The twister’s destruction stopped about twenty feet from the barn. Then the sparse grass was undisturbed.
“It must have lifted before it hit us,” Clay said. “The house is fine too.”
She could breathe again. The air was no longer close and thick. Another miracle. Thankfulness welled in her heart. “God took care of us.”
“He always does.” Clay started toward the porch, but she caught his arm. “Clay, wait.” She showed him the mail in her hands. “The results are here.”
His eyes widened. “The DNA results?”
She nodded, watching his eyes brighten. He’d worked so hard for this moment. And she realized she loved him. Her love wasn’t just physical attraction. His heart was as big as the sky overhead. He might not say things as well as he liked, but the emotion was there. He’d let nothing keep him from finding their daughter.
“I wanted you to open them. You deserve the honor after the way you never lost hope.”
He swallowed hard. “Let’s check on the girls, then go to our room.”
27
FOUR WHITE ENVELOPES. THEY CONTAINED THE NEWS HE’D BEEN SEEKING FOR FIVE YEARS. Clay looked at them spread out on the coffee table. Which one would be theirs? He couldn’t even say he had a favorite, that he hoped Brianna was a certain child.
His hand hovered over the first one to his left. “Start with this one?”
The skin on Eden’s face was still a little reddened from the fire. Her green eyes widened and she nodded. “Do you have a guess?”
“I think Brianna is Katie.”
“I think Paige is our girl.”
He raised a brow. “Why Paige? That would cause some difficulties.”
She nodded. “And that’s why I think it’s Paige. This has been so difficult that I can’t see it suddenly becoming easy.”
“Maybe it’s not supposed to be. I’m stronger for the search. I think you are too.”
He licked dry lips and picked up the first envelope. Turning it over in his hand, he ripped the flap open and pulled out the folded sheet inside.
Eden leaned over his arm to look. “Well?”
He stared at the probability figure: 0%. “This is Katie’s. She’s not ours.” He showed her the paper.
She dropped the page and grabbed the next envelope. “Check this one.”
He ripped it open and glanced at the heading. “This one is Madeline’s.” He skimmed to the results. “It’s a zero too.”
“So that leaves either Paige or Lacie. I told you it would be Paige.” Her shoulders slumped. “How will we tell that sweet couple that they can’t have her?”
He snatched up the next envelope and ripped into it. The waiting was killing him. The faces of the two little girls hung in his mind. He had no preference. They were both sweet kids. “This one is Lacie’s.”
The results suddenly appeared larger, almost bolded: a 99.97% match. “It’s Lacie,” he said slowly. “She’s our Brianna.”
“Lacie?” Eden took the paper from him and scanned it. “I thought it might be her. But she’s so quiet. And what about that nun? I thought there would be some mystery to her background. That maybe Sister Marjo was her real mother or something.” She clutched his arm. “Oh, Clay, she’s our baby. Our Brianna. I want to see her now.”
He hadn’t dreamed it would be Lacie either. Of all the girls, she hadn’t been very high on his list of possibilities. But her quiet strength and sweet nature would fit so well with them.
“When do we tell Lacie?” Her voice vibrated with longing, and when she locked gazes with Clay, pain flared in her eyes. “Can we do it now?”
She didn’t seem to be aware she was wringing her hands. He put his hand over hers. “I think we have to wait, honey. We want to handle it right. And we need to talk to the sister.”
“But she’s ours. Doesn’t she deserve to know that? I want to hold her.” Her voice was thick.
“I want to tell her too. I’ll talk to Rick and Allie about it. We’ll let
them guide us. Agreed?”
“All right,” she said, her voice grudging. “I don’t know how long I can hide my feelings. When can we talk to Sister Marjo?”
“She’s coming to visit tomorrow. I’ll arrange for a private meeting with her.” He had hardly assimilated the news. “We’ve found her. Really and truly.”
Something welled inside him—gratitude, disbelief, joy. The emotions swelled until they nearly smothered him. It seemed unbelievable that God would give them this incredible gift. “She’s really alive, Eden.” He pressed his burning eyes. “Sometimes I thought it was my stubbornness that wouldn’t let me see reality. Then I’d get another whiff of hope and keep on looking.”
Her touch was tentative on his arm. “You never gave up, Clay. That’s the kind of man you are.” She turned her head and looked out the window as if the intensity of his gaze bothered her. “It still seems a dream.”
“Now what, Eden?” he asked softly.
At least she didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about, though she kept staring at the window. He glanced there himself to see nothing but the rocky hillside in the distance. The silence stretched out, but he wasn’t going to say anything until she did. Maybe he was stubborn, but she needed to face the facts and make a decision.
He had to know. “Did you hear what I said after I pulled you out of the fire?”
She sighed and finally turned her head toward him. “I heard.”
“I meant it. There’s no life without you.”
A tiny smile played at the corner of her lips, then she frowned. “We didn’t make it before, Clay. What makes you think we can this time? I’m scared.”
“You think I’m not?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “For five years I’ve felt like a failure. There were so many things standing in our way—our youth, the short time we knew each other. Then losing Brianna. That would harm any marriage.”
“Rebuilding from here isn’t going to be easy either. Brianna will need a lot of love and support. There may not be a lot of time to focus on our relationship.”
“There’s always time. How do you think other parents handle it? All these kids want is a family that loves them.”
She held his gaze. “I’m a little sad about that. I’d like to keep them all.”
He winced. “Me too. It’s going to be hard to let them go.”
She chewed on her lip. “I hope Brianna will adjust.”
“If we show her we love each other and she’s an integral part of the family, she’ll adjust quickly.” There was a question in her eyes, and he knew he had to say the words. “I love you, Eden. I’ve always loved you. That’s the real reason I wouldn’t sign the divorce papers.”
She inhaled but kept her eyes on him. “I thought I got over you, but I was just deceiving myself in order to get by.”
He tried to squelch the leap of joy at her words. There was too much fear in her face. “So what are you saying about us? Are you willing to put doubt aside and forge a new future with me and Brianna? And any other kids who happen to come along?”
She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I’ll try, Clay. That’s all I can promise. But if I ever fail my daughter again, I . . . I . . .”
He put his finger to her lips. “We all mess up, honey. It wasn’t your fault.” He cupped her face in his palm. “I love you so much.”
When he moved to take her in his arms, she put her hand on his chest. “Love wasn’t enough before, Clay. What guarantee do we have that it will be enough this time?”
“There are no guarantees. We’ve both learned a lot, though. About each other, about patience, about give-and-take.”
She nodded. “I want to try.”
He couldn’t hold back the grin. “Quit changing the subject. Say it, Angel.”
A smile curved her lips, and she didn’t pretend not to understand him. “I love you, Clay Larson. I will until the day I die.”
The tension in her face drained, and she leaned over and offered him her lips. A gift he was happy to take.
Her eyes looked wide and aware. Eden glanced away from her image in the mirror and spit out the toothpaste. The mint taste cleared her head. She ran a brush through her hair. Her makeup was still on, but she didn’t want to take it off. Not tonight.
When she stepped into the hall, she saw Clay through the open bedroom door. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his Bible in his hand. “Ready?” she asked.
He nodded and put the Bible aside. “Remember, not a word yet.”
“I know.” Everything in her longed to tell Lacie the truth.
The girls were all on India’s bed. It had taken awhile to calm them after the storm, though luckily they’d seen little of it from the cellar. The debris strewn around the yard had frightened them, so she and Clay had tried to make a game out of picking it up. They’d finally prayed with the girls, and the children began to lose their anxiety.
They had a stack of books scattered on the covers. Eden’s attention went straight to Lacie. Her Brianna. She drank in the little girl’s brown hair. Her light-brown eyes. They were blue the last time Eden had held her. Now that she knew, it seemed her daughter’s identity should have been clear instantly. The straightness of her hair was like Clay’s. The strength in her chin was her daddy’s too. Those cheeks were like Eden’s.
“Why are you staring, Miss Eden?” India asked. “Aren’t you going to read to us?”
Eden collected her wits. “Of course, honey. You’re all so pretty. I had to look, didn’t I?”
India giggled. “No one ever calls me pretty.”
When Eden sat on the edge of the bed, the little girl leaned her head against Eden’s arm. “Want me to take your ribbons out?” she asked.
India nodded. “I like it when you do my hair. It feels good.”
Eden exchanged a smile with Clay and saw his attention veer back to the child on her left. Brianna. It was going to be hard not to call Lacie by her real name. The amazement choked Eden. She took the ribbons out of India’s hair and released the braids. The black hair sprang from her head in all directions, and Eden began to brush it out. India didn’t complain at the tugging.
“What book are we reading tonight?” Clay asked, picking up the top one. “The Cat in the Hat?”
“We read that yesterday. Lacie wants The Story of Ferdinand.”
“Then that’s what we’ll read tonight. It is your turn, isn’t it?” Eden asked, touching her daughter on the head.
Her daughter. Were two words ever more beautifully paired? She hoped Clay could find his voice to read because she wasn’t sure she could. She finished India’s hair, then Lacie scooted closer. “You want to be next?” she asked. The little girl nodded with a shy smile.
“I’ll read,” Clay said, his voice husky.
Eden listened to him read the story of a misunderstood bull. Everyone thought Ferdinand was mean, but he’d only been stung by a bee. She smiled as the children gasped and felt sorry for Ferdinand. The intensity in their eyes held her enthralled. When had she last entered into something as completely as they did? Making her marriage work and being a mommy to Brianna were going to take a similar commitment.
She ran her hand along the silken curtain of her daughter’s hair. Though it wasn’t red, the way she’d thought it would be, it was so beautiful. And hers. Hers and Clay’s. They’d made this child together and she bore their imprint in her features. It was right and good that they picked up the pieces and went on. Brianna deserved a whole family. Clay deserved a wife who tried with all her heart. God was telling her what to do, but she was still so afraid.
“Time for prayers, then bed,” Clay said, shutting the book.
They held hands in a circle on the bed. Eden clasped India’s hand in her right and Madeline’s in her left. The girls’ eyes were closed and she took the moment to gaze at each one of them. All so individual. All so precious.
Clay shut his eyes. “God, thank you for keeping us safe f
rom the tornado today. Thank you for each one of these girls. Thank you for bringing them into our lives. We love each and every one of them, as we know you do too. Keep them safely in your hands. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
“Amen,” she echoed. She kissed soft cheeks as she tucked them into bed. Clay shut off the light and closed the door partway behind them. It was too soon to go to bed.
“Want something to drink?” she asked Clay, heading to the kitchen.
“I’ll take some tea,” he said, following her. “Any of those chocolate chip cookies left?”
She nodded to the cabinet by the sink. “I hid some on the top shelf just for you.”
“What a wife.” He grinned and opened the door. “In this?” He indicated a plastic container.
“That’s it.” She took out glasses. “Maybe milk since we have cookies?”
“Sounds good.”
Still not ready to face his eyes, she poured milk into the glasses.
“Honey, are you mad about something?”
Heat rushed to her face. “Of course not. I . . . I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed by everything that happened today.”
He was smiling, oh so tenderly. She drank in the expression on his face. She wanted to believe his love, longed to put away all doubts. Dropping her gaze, she took a cookie from the container and bit into it. The chocolate hit her taste buds and the sugar gave her courage. She smiled back at him, daring to let her feelings show.
He stopped chewing. “I like that expression in your eyes. Could you look at me like that all the time?”
“Like what?” she asked, allowing her smile to widen.
“Like you might actually love me,” he said softly. “I know you said it earlier, but I’m having trouble believing it.”
She swallowed the last of her milk, then put down her glass. “I love you, Clay. So much it makes my chest hurt.”
Lonestar Angel Page 20