He wondered how long it had been since he’d really wanted anything, anyone, and he wasn’t sure now that he ever really had before this, and that was a startling discovery at his age. When at last he found the strength to pull back, she had the dreamy look that every man wanted to believe he could put on a woman’s face. Until reality slapped him right upside his ego.
“Aw, I can’t keep doing this!” he told himself as much as her.
She huffed out a sigh of pure disgust. “I would like to know why not.”
“Simone, I am not the man for you,” he stated flatly.
“I think you are.”
“I’m too old.”
“Ha!” She laughed, one hand coming up to press against her lips. “I think not.”
He did not need reminding of that kiss. Shooting up to his feet, he began to pace.
“Then put it another way. You’re too young.”
She tucked her chin and rolled those big, beautiful eyes up at him. “Surely you can do better than that. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen. I’ll tell you something else. I tried a relationship with a man my own age. It is not an experience I care to repeat, and I think he should wait at least ten or fifteen years before he tries it again, too. Do you honestly think I’m not mature enough to know my own mind?”
Morgan didn’t dare concede the point, but in truth she was the most mature twenty-six-year-old he’d ever met, and he’d met many, so he simply tried another tactic.
“Simone, you’re a student, and for me that’s poison.”
She tucked one dainty boot beneath her, tilted her head and said, “Once I’m on staff at the college, that won’t matter.”
That rocked him. So she had tumbled to that loophole in the college policy, had she? He didn’t think his father had let that particular cat out, but who else might have opened the bag? The answer was all too plain.
“Brooks told you, did he?”
She inclined her head in an elegant nod. “He did. He told me more besides.”
Morgan folded his arms. “Such as?”
She straightened, pressed her hands together primly, looked him right in the face and nearly felled him with, “Brigitte knew about the brain tumor before she broke your engagement.”
He staggered and dropped down onto the chair again. “What is that you’re saying?”
“She knew about the brain tumor before she broke your engagement.”
He couldn’t speak, his mind whirling, for several seconds. “But...”
“Brooks married her even though he knew she was dying.”
The implications were enormous, but one thing stood out. “Why didn’t they tell me?”
“They wanted to spare you as much as they could,” Simone told him sympathetically. “Brooks said he knew as soon as she broke her engagement to you that God’s plan was for him and her, not you and her. But he loved her, Morgan. He loved her so much, and the time they had together was worth the world to him.”
Still reeling, Morgan mumbled, “He told you all this, but not me?”
“Yes,” Simone said, “because he wants us not to be afraid of the possibility of my cancer returning. But it isn’t the same. I see that even if he doesn’t. Her fate was sealed. Anyone who gets involved with me is taking an unknown risk,” she went on. “I know it’s asking a lot, Morgan, and I don’t blame you at all, if that’s why—”
“You think that’s the reason I keep trying to do what I know I should with you?” he interrupted, appalled.
“Why you’re trying to push me away, you mean.”
“That’s not it! Give me some credit, will you? I have some faith, you know.”
“Then what?”
“Sweetheart,” he said urgently, “don’t you understand that with a younger man you could easily adopt children but with me it’s not likely?”
“And you’re young enough to still father children of your own,” she countered wistfully, “but you’d never have that chance with me.”
Astounded, he shook his head. “Simone, it’s been so long since I thought about having children that I don’t even know how I feel about that now.” He rubbed a hand over his face, muttering, “Especially after today.”
“Not all households are like my sister’s,” she told him wryly.
“That’s a relief,” he said, shaking his head at the thought of Grace standing in her chair and performing a four-year-old’s version of “Yankee Doodle Daddy” while her mother scolded and Phillip applauded.
“I couldn’t live in that kind of chaos, either,” Simone said, “but I have to admit that I would grab at any opportunity to have a child.”
“I know,” Morgan said, “and I’m not sure that time hasn’t passed me by entirely.”
“So where does that leave us?” she asked.
“That I don’t know,” he admitted, gusting a sigh.
She bit her lip, that beautiful, luscious lower lip. He almost groaned.
“Don’t throw me over yet,” she pleaded. “Let’s just give it some time to see what God has planned.”
“At this point, I can’t see anything else to do,” Morgan conceded, cupping her sweet face with his hand. “I’m an abject failure at getting rid of you. Funny, I’ve never failed at that before. I’m a master at it.”
“Even the professor has to learn a lesson from time to time,” she teased.
He drew his brows together. “I’ve learned a few things today.”
“I guess we both have,” she said, and he suddenly realized how tired she looked.
“You look beat. Go in and get some rest.”
Nodding, she got to her feet. “It’s more emotional than physical, but it’s a good tired this time. You were right about Carissa. We had a long talk. She told me about Dad and her husband Tom.”
“I’m glad.”
“I expect we have our moments ahead of us, but for now I have my sister back.”
“Answered prayer there,” he said, turning her toward the door.
“Truly. Thank you for being with me today. I owe you for this one.”
He chuckled. “You do. You really do.”
She slid him a look over her shoulder then, saying, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to come with me to meet my mother. And after that if you don’t go running for the hills, then you’re a better man than even I think you are, Professor Chatam, and that’s saying a lot.”
He was grinning like the fool that he undoubtedly was when the door closed behind her, for they were no closer, really, to solving anything. The years hadn’t diminished. She was still a student and forbidden territory that he just kept crossing. Someday soon, he was going to get caught at it. And that baby thing just kept getting bigger and bigger. But he wasn’t sure now that he really even had a choice when it came to Lyla Simone Worth Guilland. He was helplessly, hopelessly in her thrall, and God was going to have to get him out of this one.
* * *
The meeting with Simone’s mother, Alexandra Hedgespeth, and her husband, Leander, was set for the following Saturday afternoon at the mission. Hub volunteered to be there. Morgan was shocked to find that Chester and Hilda wanted no part of the meeting. That, as much if not more than Simone’s comments, should have prepared him for what he would find when he escorted Simone into his father’s crowded office, but though he’d caught a glimpse of Alexandra at Phillip and Carissa’s wedding, she hadn’t bothered to stop by the reception, so he had no real idea that the attractive blonde was all plastic veneer outside and venom inside.
Simone had dressed with care in a chic moss-green knit sheath with a straight-across-the-shoulders neckline that called attention to her long, graceful neck and regal carriage. The narrow sleeves belled at the wrists, showing off her delicate, feminine hands, and the midcalf length of
the narrow skirt worked well with her boots. She’d added a soft suede belt with fringed ends and tied it loosely, letting it drape about her hips. He thought she looked smashing, and he’d have been proud to walk into any faculty function with her on his arm. Yet she’d barely entered the room before her mother attacked.
“What have you done to yourself? You’re skinny as a rail! You’re a drug addict, aren’t you?” Seated in front of his desk, Alexandra looked to Hub for confirmation, saying, “That’s what happens to kids who run away from home, isn’t it? You must see it all the time.”
“Rarely, actually,” Hub replied, rocking back in his chair.
“I’m not a drug addict, Mother,” Simone said calmly, sinking down into the empty chair at Alexandra’s side. Carissa was seated on a small couch tucked up against the wall. Phillip folded himself down next to her after Simone sat. Morgan went to lean against the end of his father’s desk nearest Simone. “And hello, it’s nice to see you,” Simone went on. “How have you been?”
“Don’t give me that,” Alexandra snapped, tossing her long poufy blond hair. Up close, Morgan could tell that she’d had plastic surgery and wore impossibly long fake nails, as well as a ton of cosmetics. “Your sister tells me that you’ve been in town for months without letting anyone know.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Simone muttered.
“And you never used to be this skinny,” Alexandra went on. “If anything, you were a bit on the chunky side.”
“I was a bit on the chunky side at fifteen,” Phillip announced proudly, making Morgan chuckle.
“You were, weren’t you? Then you suddenly shot up six inches and got thin.”
Simone sent Phillip a grateful glance. At the same time, Simone’s stepfather shifted away from the corner by the door where he stood and affably stated, “I was always on the chunky side myself. Have to work out continuously to stay in shape.” He patted his firm middle with an overly tanned hand, but upon receiving a venomous glare from his wife, Leander immediately subsided back into his corner.
“I want to know what is going on with you, Lyla Simone, and I want to know it now.”
“If you must know,” Simone divulged softly, “I’ve been ill.”
Alexandra’s next question had everyone in the room gasping. “Was it sexually transmitted?”
Simone’s face bloomed bloodred, and Morgan immediately reached for her hand, exclaiming, “Of course not!”
At the same time, Carissa said, “No!”
Simone gathered her dignity and informed her mother, “I had cancer.”
Realizing that she’d embarrassed herself, Alexandra dug in her voluminous handbag and came up with a tissue, with which she carefully dabbed her eyes and nose, though the hanky remained suspiciously dry.
“Oh, my poor child. Just like your father.”
Over the next ten minutes, Alexandra dragged one disconcerting fact after another out of Simone, and nothing anyone else said could prevent it. What Simone refused to say, Alexandra deduced until she and everyone else in the room had the whole ugly picture laid bare before them.
“And now you’ve returned to us,” Alexandra gushed, working her dry hanky, “battered and broken, half a woman.”
Morgan had borne all he could stand. He came up off the corner of the desk and pulled Simone to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “That is enough! How dare you say such things?”
Alexandra leaped up, her stiletto heels clicking on the concrete floor. “And what business is it of yours? I’m not at all clear on who you are and what you’re doing here.”
He wasn’t clear on that himself, but he wasn’t about to tell her.
“This is my son Morgan,” Hubner said with a wave of his hand. “I’m afraid we didn’t make proper introductions earlier.”
“Morgan’s my friend,” Simone said huskily, and he knew immediately that she was trying to protect him, that she didn’t want her mother to know that he was a professor at the Bible college or her faculty adviser. If he’d had the sense God gave bean sprouts, he’d let go of her, but somehow he couldn’t do it. Instead he glared at Alexandra Hedgespeth, who melted before his very eyes.
“Another Chatam,” she purred. “Well, I did something right with you girls.”
Carissa dropped her head into her hands, groaning. At the same time, Simone rolled her eyes and looked away, practically turning her face into Morgan’s chest. Hub, God bless him, rocked forward in his chair, pushed back from his desk and calmly climbed to his feet, putting an end to the fiasco.
“Well, I thank you all for coming. Mr. and Mrs. Hedgespeth, Phillip will see you out.”
“My pleasure,” Phillip said, bouncing up to his full height in a single exuberant motion.
Alexandra lifted her chin mutinously, and in that one gesture, Morgan saw a bit of Simone in her, but just in that one tiny mannerism, which he would happily tell Simone as soon as he got her alone. Fortunately for everyone involved, Leander Hedgespeth showed some backbone and came forward to grasp his wife by the arm and tug her toward the door. She jerked as if he’d stabbed her, but after only a moment’s silent communication between the two, she softened her stance and finally did something halfway motherly. She came forward to pretend to hug Simone and kiss the air next to her cheek. Simone pulled far enough away from Morgan to accept this phony show of affection.
“I trust I’ll see you again soon,” Alexandra said.
“Goodbye, Mother” was Simone’s noncommittal answer.
Alexandra then turned to Carissa, trilling her a little wave. “Give the children my best.”
“Of course,” Carissa told her drily.
As soon as the door closed at her back, Simone addressed her sister. “Please tell me you didn’t give her my cell phone number.”
Carissa shook her head. “She doesn’t even have my cell phone number.”
Simone closed her eyes in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Carissa chuckled. “Don’t mention it. I figure if I give her your number, you’ll give her mine.”
“In a heartbeat,” Simone threatened drolly, and they shared a smile. Then Simone shook her head. “Poor Mother. How many does this make?”
“Marriages?” Carissa asked. “Not sure. She’s off the radar for long stretches. This one’s not such a bad guy, but he’s a lot younger than he looks, and I fear it’s not going to last. I understand he wants to be a father.”
Simone’s face fell. She stared at the door wistfully. “Poor man. And poor Mother. She has no idea how to be happy.”
“We’ve invited her to church,” Carissa said, rising to wander closer to her sister, “but she thinks I’ve nose-dived right off the deep end into religious zealotry.”
“Maybe the two of us together can make some inroads,” Simone suggested, a pleased smile on her face.
“We’ll certainly be praying along those lines,” Hub interjected.
“Thank you,” Carissa told him. “Now I’d better go rescue my husband. If I know Alexandra, and I do, she’s holding him hostage with a litany of complaints starting in my infancy.” She looked at Morgan then, adding, “And he’s every bit as protective as the professor.” She grinned at Simone, saying, “You’ve just got to like these Chatam men, don’t you?” With that she swept from the room.
“Like is a mild word for what I feel,” Simone said softly, turning to face Morgan. Her eyes were huge and warm and brimming with an emotion that took his breath away. It was all he could do not to pull her to him then and there and declare that he’d move mountains to make her his. Fortunately, his father saved him.
“Simone,” he said, “before you go, I ought to tell you that Asher asked me to speak with your friend Rina yesterday.”
She immediately switched her attention to Hubner. “Oh?”
“She seems quite se
ttled on the decision to give up her child for adoption. I thought you’d want to know.”
Simone bit her lip, and Morgan could see that she was struggling for composure. How difficult it must have been for her to know that another young woman could give up a child when she would give anything for the chance to have one. Finally, she spoke.
“Perhaps it’s best.”
“We can but hope and trust God in the matter,” Hub said, and Simone nodded.
Searching for a way to change the subject and lighten the mood, Morgan turned Simone for the door, saying, “Come on. I’m taking you to dinner. In case you didn’t know, you’re apparently too thin.”
She chuckled as he led her away from his father’s desk. “So I hear.”
“Actually,” he told her, “I think you look spectacular and that your mother would kill to be able to wear that dress.”
Simone laughed outright at that. He walked her through the door then looked back at his dad, who smiled and saluted in approval. Morgan made a fist and tapped it over his heart. The last glimpse he had of his dad before he pulled the door closed was of Hubner sitting down again and folding his hands in prayer.
* * *
After that Saturday, Simone could not have been more in love with Morgan Chatam if he’d come complete with white charger and a suit of armor.
“Do not ever again,” he told her at dinner in the same little French bistro where they’d dined alone the first time, “let me hear you say anything remotely equating yourself with your mother.”
“But, Morgan,” she argued, “running away was selfish and cruel to the people who loved me, my father, especially. It was exactly the sort of thing my mother did to him. I’ve accepted and confessed that.”
“And there’s the difference,” he pointed out. “That was then. This is now. You’ve accepted responsibility for past mistakes and you’ve accomplished laudable things all on your own. Plus, you’re helping others. Besides, your beauty is completely genuine. I don’t blame anyone for wanting to look their best, but some people take it too far. It becomes an obsession with them. What’s more, I suspect she knows that you don’t even have to try to be beautiful.”
Love Inspired June 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Single Dad CowboyThe Bachelor Meets His MatchUnexpected Reunion Page 36