by Lois Richer
“Thank you, Henry,” Holly said, greatly humbled by his strong faith. “You’d better eat your pancakes while they’re hot.”
While Henry dug into his food, Luc bombarded her with questions about the changes she wanted to make to the farmhouse where she’d been born.
“Be more specific. What exactly do you want?” he pressed.
“I want more electrical outlets for one thing,” Holly specified. “I want wide countertops to cut out fabric. I want better lighting so I can work at night if I’m on the day shift. I want lots of storage space and room for my quilting frame. If I get called in, I want to leave my sewing as is and pick up where I left off when I return.”
“Shouldn’t be hard.” He shrugged.
“Good, because the dining table doesn’t cut it anymore,” she told him with a grimace. “I’m tired of making do.”
“So am I,” Luc said in a low-throated tone. “I’m really tired of that.”
Holly stared at his serious face, confused by his words. But before she could ask him to explain, her phone rang. Mayor Marsha, who knew everything that happened in town, had already talked to Hilda about Henry. Pushing off her need for sleep, Holly agreed she and Luc would bring Henry to meet Marsha in the mayor’s office in half an hour. Luc nodded when she told him then picked up their earlier conversation.
“I’ve never seen whatever it is you spend so much time sewing.” He studied the green scrubs she still wore from her shift at the hospital, his gaze resting on the label on the chest pocket. “Not those, I’m guessing. Are you helping with more quilts for Family Ties? I heard the intent was to give one to every woman who uses the services of Family Ties to adopt out her child.”
“I am helping with that.” Holly wished he wasn’t so curious. “But that’s not exactly what I want a sewing room for.”
It was silly trying to evade the question because Luc never let anything go until he had an answer. That was the way he’d been the whole time he’d been learning ranching from her dad, and Holly doubted he’d ever change. His curiosity was innate. He was one of those people who asked and probed until he received a satisfactory answer. She thought Henry had the same trait.
“I could understand if you were still making your wedding dress.” Luc squinted out the window, watching the town come to life. “But you don’t need that anymore, do you?”
“Even if I did, it’s too late,” she told him defiantly. “I cut it up the day Ron dumped me.”
“But you could use it someday,” he protested.
“I am not getting married, Luc. Even if I were, do you honestly think I’d wear a wedding dress I chose to marry someone else? I assure you, I would not. But I repeat, I’m not getting married. Ever.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ever? That’s pretty harsh.” Luc raised an eyebrow then inclined his head toward her plate. At her nod he picked up the last slice of her toast and smeared jam over it. “Surely one day—”
“Never,” Holly repeated. “I’m too independent.” She glanced at him through her lashes as she fudged the truth. “I prefer to be single.”
He shot her a look that questioned her statement.
“Don’t worry. I put that wedding dress to good use. There are some really nice curtains in the living room at Family Ties.” She burst out laughing at his startled look, hoping to hide the hurt that snuck up on her occasionally, ever since the day Ron had told her he wouldn’t marry her.
That’s what comes of keeping secrets.
“You’re a good sport, Holly. I like that about you. Though I can’t say I have such high regard for the man you chose to marry.” Luc’s voice tightened. “Ron Simard was a first-class jerk to walk away from you like that.”
“He had his reasons.” If Luc knew what she’d kept hidden from her fiancé until a few days before her wedding, Holly was pretty sure he’d have agreed wholeheartedly with Ron’s decision to turn tail and run.
Luc had lost his family and frequently spoke of his desire for an heir. How could he ever understand her decision to give away the infant she’d birthed while she was in training?
“So your new sewing room doesn’t have anything to do with Ron?” he pressed, nudging her from the past with its guilty secrets.
“Not at all! Sewing is my hobby, Luc, a way to be creative and a total change from my work,” she explained. “It lets me achieve some of my dreams. Aside from the cost of the renovation, it shouldn’t impact the ranch budget too much. Okay?” She stared at him, one eyebrow arched.
“If you’re asking my permission, I certainly think it’s okay if you make a sewing room out of your extra bedroom,” he said, pushing away his empty plate.
“I wasn’t asking your permission,” she shot back, irritated that she’d felt compelled to explain but even more annoyed that she’d let him get to her. He knew it, too, judging by the smile flickering at the corner of his lips.
“If that’s what you want. I might even offer to help you do the renovation.”
“Really?” She frowned. “I thought you’d be too busy with ranch stuff. You keep asking if I’ve done it yet, but you’ve never actually offered to help me clean out Dad’s trunk.”
“That’s different.” Luc had the grace to look embarrassed. He turned, grabbed a napkin and wiped Henry’s syrup-spattered cheeks. “I don’t want to push in on your personal affairs,” he muttered.
“Luc, you already know everything there is to know about Cool Springs Ranch,” Holly pointed out, surprised by this sensitivity.
“There might be something personal in there that you don’t want to share. Did you ever empty it?” He did look at her then.
“Not yet.” Holly couldn’t shake the feeling that Luc was hiding something. “I’ll get to the trunk. Eventually.”
“Good. Anyway, renovating is different than going through personal stuff. Sort of.” He nodded then shook his head. “Or maybe not.”
“Definitive answer,” she teased as she studied him, confused by his response. Luc was never uncertain. “You’ll help me with the renovation and I suppose you’ll expect me to help you with something in return. What?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He tilted his head just the tiniest bit to the left where Henry sat silently watching them. Holly frowned, prepared to push for an answer but Luc shook his head.
She shrugged. Let him have his secret. Goodness knew she had her own and she hated it when anyone tried to push her into saying something she didn’t want to.
“Can we get my family now?” Henry asked.
“It won’t be that simple, Henry,” Holly warned. “It’s a long process to find a family. Besides, we’ve got another fifteen minutes before we’re supposed to meet the mayor.” His sad expression touched her. He must be very lonely. With a spurt of inspiration she asked, “Where did you live before, Henry?”
“In Calgary. In a shelter. My brother took care of me.” For the first time the boy’s composure fractured. A big tear plopped onto his cheek. “Finn can’t take care of me anymore because he’s in prison. He told me he didn’t do it but I think he did steal the money from the store and it’s my fault.”
“How could it be your fault?” Luc asked, touching the boy’s shoulder gently.
“My teacher said I need new glasses. But I shouldn’t have told Finn because he didn’t have any money to buy them.” Henry’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I asked him anyway.”
“You couldn’t know what Finn would do,” Holly said, hugging Henry close for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”
When Luc didn’t add his voice to the comment, Holly glanced up and found him staring at her and Henry, his brown eyes almost black with intensity.
“What?” she murmured, discomfited by his look.
“I just had an idea.” A slow grin moved across Luc’s face, accenting the handsome ruggedness. “Henry, here’s some money. Could you go pay the bill?”
Delighted by this sign of trust, Henry scooted out of the booth and across the c
afé.
“Why did you do that?” Holly liked that Luc was an open book. He didn’t hide his thoughts or pretend to be anything but what he was—a cowboy. He was honest and straightforward and she knew she could count on him. So when he leaned toward her, Holly smiled, expecting a joke.
“In return for helping you with your renovations, I would like your help,” Luc said.
“With what?” Surprised when he beckoned to her to move closer, Holly leaned toward him.
“With adopting Henry.”
*
Luc winced when Holly’s eyes widened then flickered with disbelief. What was so surprising about him wanting to adopt Henry? She studied him until Henry came back then turned her focus on the boy, watching as he first handed Luc the change and then began scribbling on his placemat with the pen he’d given him earlier.
“Henry,” she said softly. “Mrs. Brewster has some toys over there, in the box under the window. Would you like to play with them for a few minutes until it’s time to leave?”
“Okay.” Henry shifted out of the booth, paused to study them through his big round glasses. “You and Luc should make a family.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.” Holly avoided Luc’s glance until Henry walked over to the toy box. “Where did he get that idea from?” Her beautiful blue eyes now had silver sparks in them which shot his way. “Never mind. Were you kidding about adopting him?”
“Why would I?” Irritated that Holly would think he’d joke about such a serious subject, Luc clenched his hands on the leather bench. Why shouldn’t he be a father to this needy boy?
Holly’s glossy brunette curls, caught up in the ponytail she always wore to work, shone red-gold glints in a flash of sunlight coming through the window. She always looked lovely to him, but with the pink flush of annoyance now staining her cheeks, she was stunning. And she distracted him.
“You can’t adopt Henry.” Her voice had the sharpest tone he’d ever heard.
“Because?” Luc leaned back in his seat and waited, formulating arguments in his mind, ready to shoot hers down while wondering what was wrong with the usually happy Holly.
“You make it sound like it’s a done deal, just because you’ve decided. Adoption’s not that easy.” Holly fiddled with her teacup.
“How do you know?” Funny how she didn’t look at him now. Instead, she hid her gaze by staring at the uneaten food on her plate. Luc’s radar was alerted, but he waited for her to speak.
“I’ve seen and heard stuff at Family Ties. There are procedures to go through. Isn’t it time to leave?” Holly sounded almost desperate.
“We’ve still got several minutes,” he said, wondering why she hadn’t looked at her watch. It hung from a gold pin near her shoulder. Luc knew she did that because she’d once told him she disliked wearing anything on her wrist. He knew a lot about Holly. “What kind of procedures do I need to go through, Holly?”
“Uh, well…” She leaned back, obviously searching for an answer. “I don’t know. Maybe start by learning all you can about adoptions. Check out support groups for adoptive parents or conferences where you can learn what to expect, what others have gone through, how to handle certain problems.”
“Sounds like that would take a long time.” There was something funny going on. Uncomplicated, straight-shooting Holly wouldn’t look at him.
“Of course. Adoption is a long process,” she said hurriedly. “You’re adopting the child for life so it would be better to learn as much as you can before you act.”
“I suppose.” Luc nodded. “So what else do I need to know?”
“This isn’t my specialty, Luc. I’m a nurse practitioner not a social worker.” She sounded frustrated. Must be lack of sleep.
Luc knew ordinarily Holly would be tucked up in bed by now. She always gave her best at work but she worked doubly hard when she was on night shifts and especially when children fussed and seemed to need extra attention. Most mornings he watched her return home utterly worn-out.
“You’re tired. Never mind,” he said, sorry that he’d bothered her when she was spent.
“You should talk with Abby Lebret.” Her voice sounded calmer. “She’s the social worker who runs Family Ties and she’d know how to proceed.”
“That’s a good idea.” He stretched out his booted feet and bumped hers. “Sorry. I suppose someone will visit my place, make sure it’s all right for a child to live there?”
“I’m sure that’s part of a home study,” Holly told him. “But I doubt you’ll have just one meeting. It’s—I mean I think it’s more like a series of meetings and it gets pretty personal. Or so I’ve heard,” she added, ignoring his surprised look.
“I’d expect to be investigated.” Luc wondered where she got her information and then decided it must be from Family Ties. Abby and Holly were good friends. “I’d want them to get all their questions about me answered so there wouldn’t be any mistakes that would mean they’d take Henry back.”
“I guess that’s wise. But, Luc, there’s no guarantee Henry is even adoptable.” Holly’s smooth forehead pleated with her frown. “He might already be a candidate for some other family or it may be that he’s not eligible for adoption.”
“He is. I just know it.” Luc couldn’t explain how he knew Henry was supposed to be his son. He’d struggled for the past year trying to figure out God’s will for him. Surely having Henry show up as he had, asking for a family, was a sign God’s plan was for Luc to be a dad to Henry.
“I imagine Henry has a child worker assigned to him. I guess that person will be your first hurdle.” Holly tried to hide a yawn behind her hand but didn’t quite succeed. “I think we’d better get over to Marsha’s office before I doze off.”
“It’s time.” He waited while Holly collected Henry then walked to the door. “Are you going to stay awake through this?” he asked when she tried to smother another yawn.
“I can give you another half hour,” Holly promised. “But then I am going to crash.”
“Thanks, Holly. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Luc reached out and squeezed her shoulder. With Holly on his side, he couldn’t possibly fail to get his son.
Chapter Two
“Henry has no home. I don’t see what’s wrong with bringing him to my place to stay until the adoption goes through,” Luc said as he took a seat at her dining table.
Holly watched as the tall, lean rancher gulped down a mouthful of the coffee she’d just poured, disregarding her warning that it was hot. Coughing and sputtering, he raced across the dining room to the kitchen sink and downed a glass of cold water. He made a series of silly faces as he tested his scorched mouth.
She tried but couldn’t quite stifle her laughter at his antics.
“It’s not nice for you to laugh at me, Holly,” he reproved her then added, “Certainly not something the town’s wonder girl would do.”
“Oh, lay off that nonsense,” she said, losing her good mood. “I’m not that wonderful and the town would know that if they really knew me.” Sobered by his words she reminded him, “It’s only been a week since you met Henry and you’re still treating adoption just like that hot coffee. I warned you it was hot just as I warned you it wouldn’t be easy to adopt Henry.”
“I never thought it would be easy.” Luc flopped back down in his chair and stretched out. “I just didn’t think it would be a lesson in fighting bureaucracy.”
“Please keep your boots away from that bag of fabric.” Holly’s warning came a second too late. “This is exactly why I need a sewing room,” she complained in an exasperated tone as she freed a piece of frilly lace from the toe of his boot.
“Sorry. I know I promised I’d work on a sewing room in exchange for your help, Holly. I’ll get to it soon.” He took the lace from her and studied it. “What is this for anyway? A hair bow?” He peered at it then studied her head. “Since when do you wear pink? You hate pink.”
“It’s not a hair bow and it’s not for me,” Holly t
old him, snatching the delicate lace from his fingers. “I’m going to sew it on a gift I’m making.”
“Another baby gift?” He leaned over to study the fabric pieces lying on the table. “Looks like a jigsaw puzzle but I can tell it’s for a girl. You sure do have a lot of new moms as friends.”
“I deliver babies. It’s my job to know the moms. I like to give them a little gift after their baby’s birth.” Holly flushed and looked away.
Shame on me for fudging the truth.
But how else could she explain without telling him about her online business? And Holly didn’t want to do that. If Luc knew he’d probably pass on the information and soon the whole town would be talking. She couldn’t bear to hear the gossips.
Poor jilted bride. That’s why she makes baby clothes, you know. Because she doesn’t have any children of her own.
If they only knew that she’d once held her own precious child in her arms and then given him away to save her father’s reputation.
Since it was Holly’s week off, Luc had made a habit of stopping by unexpectedly for coffee, ostensibly to discuss the work he did on her ranch. Somehow the conversation always turned to adopting Henry. A couple of times he’d caught her with her work spread all over the dining table. Well, it wasn’t as if she could just scoop everything into a box whenever he appeared.
“I probably shouldn’t have bothered you about this again,” Luc apologized. “But I wondered if you’d given more thought to selling Cool Springs Ranch?”
“Not again.” She rolled her eyes. “Luc, you’ve asked me that a hundred times since Dad died. I told you on Monday that I wasn’t interested in selling any of Dad’s land. Today is Thursday and I’m still not interested.”
“It’s not your dad’s land anymore, Holly,” Luc said in a somber tone. “It’s yours.”
“Yes, but he worked so hard to acquire this land and his herd,” she said softly. “He wanted me to have a birthright.” Which should have gone to his grandson. “I wouldn’t feel right selling off any of it.”