For the first time in many months, it wasn’t initially or even primarily the doorbell that had startled her. She couldn’t have been more stunned than she was to find the first thing that popped into her head when she closed her eyes wasn’t the nightmare of being chased down by Adrian.
Confusion reigned, and she knew it showed outwardly in the flush of her cheeks. But how could she not be perplexed as she frantically sorted through her feelings? She was absolutely floored to find that among the myriad of emotions she was currently experiencing, fear was surprisingly low on the list.
When Shawn had looked at her, she felt as if he’d really seen her—glimpsed into her heart at the woman hiding deep within. That should have scared the socks off of her.
It hadn’t. Shawn hadn’t frightened her, at least not in the way she’d been accustomed to in the past. He’d thrown her for a loop. She suspected he’d seen more of her than she wanted, and that was cause for panic. But he hadn’t frightened her.
What had happened? These days, she was always so careful not to let her guard down. Not ever. Most especially not with men. Shawn was a pastor, but that was hardly a recommendation to Heather. It certainly didn’t procure any kind of confidence in him. She didn’t trust church leaders as far as she could throw them. For all she knew, Shawn was the worst kind of charlatan, profiting off unsuspecting folks in the name of God.
And yet—there was something different about Shawn. There had been no judgment in his gaze, only compassion for whatever he read in her eyes. Not many men in Heather’s life had ever bothered to look beyond the shell of her physical appearance. Any outward beauty she possessed was a curse, and the have-it-all-together woman she presented to the world was a counterfeit. She sensed that Shawn had not only seen that which she strove to keep hidden, but had somehow reached out to her and touched her inner person.
That rattled her more than any physical contact ever could.
“Don’t move,” she snapped a little more harshly than she intended. “You’ve got the baby. I’ll get the door.”
Relieved to be away from Shawn’s probing gaze, she rushed forward and swung the front door open wide, forgetting even to check through the peephole to see who it might be. That moment with Shawn had shaken her up to the point where even her common sense had rocketed out of her reach. She supposed it was also possible that she wasn’t as concerned over who was at the door because she was bolstered by Shawn’s presence in the house, but she wasn’t ready to go down that path, even if it was only in her mind. The last thing she needed or wanted was to be dependent on a man—for anything. And she would certainly never depend on a man to make her feel safe.
Besides, facts were facts. Adrian was in prison, and he was going to be in there for a good long time. She had nothing to fear, though her psyche sometimes forgot that. Maybe she was finally getting used to the truth. Maybe eventually she could put all her fear behind her and move on with her life.
“Merry Christmas, my dears,” Jo Spencer exclaimed the moment the door was opened. The stout redhead stepped inside the foyer without waiting to be invited. Her arms were laden with parcels—a plate of cookies and several festive gift bags.
“Comin’ through,” shouted a scratchy voice from behind Jo as her husband, Frank, entered the house. “Jo brought me along to be her packhorse,” he grumbled. “Where do you want all this stuff?”
Like Jo, Frank had his arms full, mostly of canvas bags with the Sam’s Grocery logo on it, filled with what seemed to be baked goods and baby clothes.
“Head straight back to the kitchen, Frank,” Heather instructed with a chuckle. She didn’t take the least bit of offense to Frank’s curtness. Few in Serendipity did. He was a lovable old man for all his guff. “I haven’t set up the table for the meal yet, so you can place all your parcels there.”
“Chance and Phoebe told us to make sure to wish y’all a happy Christmas, as well,” Jo continued, ignoring her husband’s griping. “Naturally all the stores around here are closed for the holiday, so we’ve got nothing new to offer you, but Phoebe dug through a few boxes of their baby things and managed to find a few pieces to help clothe Noelle. Nothing pink, I’m afraid, seeing as their youngest is a boy, but they found a few one-pieces and such in green and yellow that I think will do nicely.”
Heather’s heart welled, as did the tears in her eyes. Her throat constricted, and she found herself at a loss for words.
Her nerves snapped to attention when Shawn’s voice came from directly behind her. “That’s very kind of y’all to think of us on Christmas day, and especially to go out of your way to help out baby Noelle.”
“Nothing exceptionally out-of-the-ordinarily kind about being neighborly,” Jo said, bustling around the table, removing a couple of glass casserole dishes and a cherry pie from the pile of bags. “Did you remember to grab the whipped cream, Frank?”
The old man snorted. “What do you think? You only reminded me about it three times before we left.”
“So in other words you’re tellin’ me you forgot it, then?” Jo chuckled and bussed Frank’s scruffy cheek.
“No, old woman, I’m tellin’ you that you’re a nag.” He reached into one of the canvas bags and withdrew a large tub of whipped topping, then tossed it to Shawn without warning.
Heather was impressed by Shawn’s quick reflexes. He caught the bucket easily with just one hand and with a single smooth move deposited it into the freezer.
“You see there, son?” Frank continued, wrapping an affectionate arm around Jo’s ample waist. “You’d better be a hundred and ten percent certain before you go and tie the knot, ’cause this is what you’ll have to put up with.”
The words were as grumpy as usual. If Heather had been going only by those, she would no doubt have found herself smack-dab in the middle of another panic attack. But it wasn’t about the words. It was the looks the couple shared between them. The actions and affection that set them apart. Frank and Jo Spencer exemplified what Heather had once believed marriage could be. Love conquers all. It didn’t matter how different Frank and Jo were from each other—and they were about as different from each other as two people could be. But it was perfectly obvious to Heather, and no doubt to everyone else who had ever met the old couple, that love bridged that gap.
She didn’t know how they did it. Whatever their secret, it was clearly beyond her understanding. She’d made every mistake a woman could make, one right after the other, leading not only to heartbreak, but the death of innocent children.
Heather blinked against the burning sensation in her eyes and turned her gaze away, fighting to breathe around the lump of emotion in her throat. She couldn’t stand it. She really couldn’t stand it.
Even in the face of kindness, why did life have to be so hard?
Chapter Four
Shawn leaned over the sink to splash his face free of shaving cream, careful not to drip water onto the little bundle of joy strapped to his chest by a baby carrier. He hummed as he dried his jaw with a hand towel, partially because Noelle seemed to appreciate either his voice or the vibration of his chest, and partially out of sheer gratitude as he remembered the outpouring of love and generosity parishioners had given him—them—on Christmas Day. Even though he’d been the pastor of his small congregation for several years, remembering the incredible scene at Heather’s house still sent him reeling with thankfulness for so many blessings.
Good people. Wonderful, amazing friends and neighbors.
After Jo and Frank had come and gone, he and Heather had been visited by at least a dozen other families, all bringing supplies for Noelle and extra food and gifts for Heather and her kids. He knew he shouldn’t be stunned at how quickly the word got around town that there was a baby in need, nor the amazing way people responded when they heard.
Serendipity was like that. Folks cared for each other, even to the point of interrupting their own holidays to make sure little Noelle had what she needed. Of course it wasn’t enough that everyone
had had such open hearts toward the baby. They’d been thinking of Heather and her children as well, which Shawn considered far more than merely the icing on the cake. He had a whole new appreciation for living in Serendipity.
Since Christmas Day was on a Friday, Shawn had been able to spend the whole weekend with Noelle, and he was glad for the opportunity. His sleep deprivation hadn’t lessened, but that was to be expected. He was proud of how well he’d managed to adjust to the role of foster father. Of course, it helped knowing Heather was no more than a phone call away. He experienced far less pressure with Heather as his right-hand woman, and he had, in fact, made use of her expertise several times over the past two days.
There was definitely a steep learning curve where infants were concerned, at least for him. Someone had slipped him a copy of a baby-care book in one of the bags, which probably would have been a tremendous help to him—if he’d had nine months to prepare and memorize every line in the manual. It wasn’t as if he had time to sit down and read any book cover to cover between feeding and diapering duty, and yet that was probably exactly what he needed to do. Somehow. In his nonexistent spare time. As it was, he was grateful for the index and the table of contents that allowed him to turn to specific pages for assistance.
But as nice as the book was, it was nothing close to the advantage of having Heather on his side. She was infinitely patient with him, and didn’t seem to mind his endless string of clueless and sometimes brainless questions, nor the fact that he phoned her quite literally every couple of hours, even in the middle of the night. She’d been a great deal more than a shoulder to lean on. She was practically holding him up. She’d offered to spell him again if he needed her to take the baby for a while and gracefully let him know he could avail himself of the charity of her home should he need a bit more shut-eye than he was getting on his own.
He’d considered her invitation and more than once had been on the brink of accepting it, but thankfully, he and Noelle seemed to be hitting a stride with each other and he hadn’t had to put Heather out any more than he already had. He was certainly bothering her enough just with the numerous phone calls and questions. No need to further complicate matters by becoming a mainstay at her house.
She already had her three kids to take care of. She didn’t need two more.
Now that it was Monday, they’d made plans to take Noelle to San Antonio to meet with the social worker who was the point person for Heather and her three children. Heather had arranged for a neighbor to take care of Jacob, Missy and Henry so she could accompany him, giving him even more reason to be grateful for her. He was racking up quite a bill of kindnesses given to him, and he knew he’d never be able to repay her. Not only was she encouraging him by her presence and her connections, but she’d even offered to drive him to town. He was glad she was going along, if nothing else, to remind him of what a really good foster parent looked like—and to underscore the fact that he wasn’t that person.
With every minute that ticked closer to their appointment time, he found himself more urgently needing the reminder that he was not the right person to see to Noelle’s care on any kind of permanent basis. And what kind of crazy was that for him to even consider? Noelle deserved better than a cowboy pastor with zero parenting experience.
He would have thought that as much as he’d struggled to care for Noelle, especially at the beginning, he’d be anxious to put her into decent care with people who knew what they were doing. So why was this so hard? It shouldn’t be, practically speaking, but his heart wasn’t listening. It was going to be difficult for him to hand her off to a stranger.
Painful.
Maybe it was his lack of sleep, or maybe it was that he’d had two days with no one to talk to except Heather and the tiny infant, but he had bonded with Noelle. It was the strangest thing. He felt as if his large heart was tied to her tiny one by a delicate thread—a string that would snap the moment Noelle was lifted from his arms.
If he had a wife by his side to mother the infant, he knew he wouldn’t think twice before volunteering to foster Noelle, maybe even adopt her. But he didn’t. And even with a woman by his side, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be father material.
His own family was a train wreck of gigantic proportions. Shawn acknowledged that he was the cause of all his family’s ills. A mother hospitalized under permanent psychiatric care. A father who loved the bottle more than his life. His brother…
He couldn’t let himself think about David.
There was no way he could ever put another human being in that kind of jeopardy. He didn’t trust himself, and never would. As much as his heart went out to Noelle, he couldn’t be responsible for a child’s life.
He brushed a blue terry-cloth towel down his face to remove traces of aftershave and stared at himself in the mirror, but he didn’t see his own reflection. Instead, he saw his younger brother’s face.
Little six-year-old David, his ginger hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his fair, freckled skin burned and red. His palms flat against the surface of the car window, fingers spread. His mouth open wide in a silent scream, pleading for Shawn to reach him.
To save him.
Shawn shuddered and turned away from the mirror. He hadn’t been able to rescue David, and he hadn’t been able to salvage what was left of his mother’s sanity after her younger son had died. His father had never picked up a drink in his life until he’d watched his younger son being lowered into the ground.
Shawn had done that. He had failed his family on every conceivable level.
Noelle needed better than that. She needed safety. Security. Someone who knew what he or she was doing, someone confident around an infant and able to make the kind of permanent commitment the baby required.
She needed a good family who would give her the love and care she deserved.
Please, God, let it be so.
His prayer was shortened by the sound of a car horn.
Heather.
Shawn didn’t want to keep her waiting. He grabbed the infant car seat off the kitchen table on his way out, thankful that Zach and Delia had been willing and able to temporarily loan it to him for Noelle’s one-way trip into San Antonio. He swallowed back the emotion that burned his throat. There was no point in his buying a car seat for her when he’d only need it for today. Her new foster parents would no doubt purchase one for her.
Ignoring the ache in his chest, he exited the house and waved to Heather as he approached her silver midsize SUV. She hurried around to the passenger side and opened the back door while he unfastened Noelle from the baby carrier on his chest.
“The car seat goes in the middle,” she informed him, gesturing toward the interior. “Why don’t you let me hold the baby while you get it snapped in?”
He nodded and handed Noelle to Heather, giving his shoulders a mental straightening as he turned to meet this new challenge—strapping in a car seat. It couldn’t possibly be that difficult, right? Besides, he’d looked up the directions online, although he probably wouldn’t admit that part aloud. It was a first for him, but he didn’t want to look incompetent around Heather, and he wanted to get it right for the sake of Noelle’s safety.
Five minutes turned into ten. The metal clip that was supposed to be used to keep the shoulder strap stable was next to impossible to thread onto the seat belt, and it had to be perfectly positioned to keep the backward-facing baby seat tight. Just as he was about to give up and let Heather have a go at it, the lock clicked.
He uncurled himself from the backseat with a sigh of relief. He thought Heather might be amused by his amateur attempt at securing the car seat but her expression was serious.
He flashed a self-effacing grin, hoping to lighten the moment. “Wow. That car seat really gave me a run for the money there, didn’t it? My lack of experience is showing again. Is there anything about caring for an infant that is easy?” he joked.
She started to shake her head and then stopped, tipping her chin so her hazel eyes m
et his. “Love. Loving them is easy.”
He felt her words like a swift uppercut to his jaw.
KO. Knockout.
Yes. Loving Noelle was easy. But it wasn’t simple, because right now loving Noelle meant letting her go. And that was as complicated as it got.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed through the catch in his throat. He reached for Noelle and fastened her into the car seat. Then he moved around to the front driver’s side to open the door for Heather, allowing her to take her place behind the wheel before he moved around to the other side of the SUV. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me,” he added as he slid into the passenger seat.
“For Noelle, you mean,” she responded without looking at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
It felt like a rebuke to Shawn’s already raw heart. This day was getting tougher by the moment. But she was right. It wasn’t about him.
“For Noelle,” he agreed, hoping she couldn’t hear any telltale grief in his tone.
The hour-long drive to San Antonio was made almost entirely in silence. Twice Shawn tried to make small talk, and twice the conversation quickly lapsed into stillness. It wasn’t an easy silence between them, either. The air felt prickly. Shawn didn’t know how Noelle managed to sleep so peacefully through it. Heather kept her attention on the road, but Shawn sensed there was more to it than good driving habits. She kept both white-knuckled fists clutched onto the steering wheel. The smooth skin at the corner of her jaw occasionally twitched with strain.
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