His unfinished sermon, scribbled on a yellow legal pad, was taunting him, but after sitting at his desk for five minutes without writing a single word, he gave up. He couldn’t keep his mind on his message—he couldn’t even get it there in the first place.
He needed to refocus or else he wasn’t going to have two words to share with his congregation come Sunday morning. Scooping up Noelle’s infant seat, he carried her into the sanctuary, where he flipped on only enough lights to illuminate the altar. He approached and knelt reverently, his gaze lingering first on the cross and then on the sleeping baby.
Had it only been a few weeks ago that this sweet little darlin’ had come into his life? Right here, in this very sanctuary, his world had been forever changed. By Noelle, and by the woman who’d come to his and the baby’s rescue—Heather Lewis.
He remembered how helpless he’d felt when he’d heard Noelle cry for the first time. Now that he’d been with her for a while, he could distinguish between her cries—whether she was wet, hungry or just needing a little attention.
And hurry up with that bottle, Foster Daddy.
The smile that had claimed his lips when he regarded his baby girl disappeared when he thought about the future. He’d received a troubling phone call earlier in the day, just before the one from Heather that had sent him rushing off to help the family.
The news had him all in knots. Then all that combined with the incredibly helpless feelings he’d experienced at not being able to do anything to fix Missy’s injury, other than taking her to the doctor. He hated feeling as if he couldn’t do anything to help.
He was a mess, and the only thing he could think of to do was to give it all to the Lord and seek His guidance. How could he lead his congregation into faith and good works if he was struggling just to plant one foot in front of the other? This was getting way beyond him. Maybe he ought to step down for a while or take a sabbatical, do a little cowpoking and spend some time on the range, under the stars.
What did God want of him?
“I’m listening,” he said aloud, acknowledging his need for the Almighty.
“Good, because I’m fairly certain I have something to say.”
Shawn jerked to his feet, his heart hammering. He’d thought he was alone in the chapel. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the glare created by the lights above the altar, but he couldn’t see into the shadows.
Yet he didn’t need to see to know who was there. He recognized that rich, warm feminine voice almost as well as his own.
“I didn’t expect an answer,” he said with a chuckle.
“No, I don’t suppose you did. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
“That’s okay. I’ll live. Did you need something, Heather? Has something happened with Missy?”
“Missy is fine. She’s taking supper with the boys and Jo Spencer.”
Shawn cast about for a reason Heather might be here at the church but came up empty. The only time he’d ever seen her in the chapel was the night he’d discovered Noelle. He’d gathered from talking to her that church wasn’t really her thing—thanks at least in part to Adrian. So it was unlikely she’d dropped by to pray.
“The doors of the church are always open,” he said, sweeping his arm out in a welcoming gesture. What else could he say?
His statement was met with a dry laugh. “Funny you should say that.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I have this thing about churches. You can probably chalk it up to one of those doesn’t-make-any-sense emotions, like many of the others I’m slowly working my way through. Feel free to laugh at me if you’d like.”
How could he possibly make fun of her for her confusion when his own thoughts and emotions were so ruffled?
“You know I won’t do that. Go on.”
“It’s another by-product of my time with Adrian. I’m slowly working on my own personal relationship with God, but for some reason church buildings continue to give me pause. I must have stood outside for five minutes trying to talk myself into the courage to come into the chapel tonight.”
“Why?”
“Who knows? Maybe it’s because attending church was absolutely the most awful experience for me when I was with Adrian. It was horrible mixing with good and honest people when my whole life was a lie. Pretending I had the perfect marriage and a charmed life, never letting on that Deacon Adrian was anyone other than the upstanding man he presented himself to be in the public light.”
She shivered and crossed her arms. Shawn closed the distance between them in a second, offering her the shelter of his arms and, crazy as it might sound, desperately wishing he could protect her from the pain of her past. Wishing he could change it for her. She was defenseless against the onslaught of her memories and he couldn’t step between her and her dragons. He didn’t even have a sword for this fight.
She stiffened in his embrace and then relaxed into him with a sigh, clutching his shirt and resting her head on his shoulders. That alone was enough to remind him that Heather wasn’t entirely at the mercy of her past experiences. She fought against them every day, but each time she took a step in the right direction she conquered more of her fears.
Whereas he tended to simply stuff his anxieties into the back of his mind and slam a mental door on them. He counseled people to acknowledge and work through their issues, all the while ignoring his own.
Talk about a hypocrite. She was braver than he would ever be.
“I think everyone tends to present his or her best self at church. It’s natural for us to want people to like us. But let’s face it—we all have issues we’d rather other folks not know about. Every one of us. What you see is never quite what you get. There aren’t any truly perfect people, which is why it’s such a good thing that God’s mercies are new every morning.”
She sniffled. “I think you come pretty close. At the very least, you’re a good man if I’ve ever known one.”
He scoffed inwardly but held his tongue. If only she knew just how wrong she was. She wouldn’t be so quick to be praising him, that was for sure.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your prayer time,” she said, slipping out of his arms to check on Noelle, who stirred briefly and returned to her slumber. “She’s so sweet in her sleep.”
“She’s sweet all the time,” he agreed. “And don’t worry about interrupting me. I don’t think I was ready to hear any answers yet. My problems are still rumbling around in my head too much. Bumping off all the rocks, you know?”
They both laughed. He was glad he could lighten the mood a little. Heather didn’t look quite so uncomfortable being in the chapel now—not as she’d been when she’d first walked in. Which reminded him—she must have come here for a reason, and he had yet to find out what it was.
“I don’t think you ever answered my question,” he prompted. “Why’d you stop by? Is there something I can help you with?”
“Not this time,” she said, sitting on the front pew, where she could easily lean over the baby. The pacifier had popped out of Noelle’s mouth in her sleep and Heather gently replaced it. “I don’t know how to approach what I’m about to say, so I think it’s better if I just come straight out with it.”
He tensed at both her words and the tone of her voice. This didn’t sound good. “I value straightforwardness and honesty. Have at it.”
“I want to thank you for all you’ve done for us today. You made a frightening situation far less so, and you are now Missy’s new favorite person. You’re a regular hero in her book, and in mine, too.”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“Now, see, this is what I’m talking about. I know something’s bothering you. Don’t try to deny it. You were a total superhero with Missy, but the rest of the day? Not so much. You’ve been pulling back. Acting distant. Frowning when you usually smile.”
“That bad, huh?” He grimaced. “I didn’t think I was being so obvious.”
“You cut out of Cup O’ Jo’s like your tail was
on fire. Everybody noticed it.”
Ugh. He’d hoped he’d behaved with a little more finesse than that. He slumped onto the pew next to her, pressed his face into his palms and groaned. “I got some news today.”
“Bad news? I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it…” Her touch was incredibly light and tender against his shoulder, but it brought him instantly alert. Even in the midst of his turmoil, or maybe especially in the middle of it, he was hyperaware of her proximity to him. The warmth of her breath and the soft floral scent that wafted around her. Roses.
“Not bad news, exactly, and I think you need to know about it,” he replied, reaching for her hand as it drifted down his arm. He turned her palm over and brushed his lips against the spot on her wrist where her pulse beat, then threaded their fingers together. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Some of it is bad news. Some of it’s good, I guess. Maybe. It could be. Or maybe not.”
“You’re rambling. And so far you haven’t said anything.”
Great. His confusion made manifest to the one woman in the world he’d most like to impress. There was danger in being this close to someone. He wanted to share his innermost thoughts and emotions, but those very same feelings made him vulnerable.
“Right. Um—” He hesitated, then plunged forward. “I got a call from Maggie Dockerty at social services. Noelle’s mother has been identified.”
Heather’s gasp was audible. She clenched his fingers so tightly she was cutting off his circulation, but he didn’t attempt to remove himself from her grasp. “That’s good news, right? Or is it? What happened to her? Is she okay? Does she want to reclaim Noelle?”
He barely knew where to begin answering the questions she’d peppered him with. “Her name is Kristen Foxworthy. She was in an accident. Hit-and-run on a highway where she wasn’t supposed to be walking.”
“That’s awful. How serious is it?”
“Unfortunately, it’s very serious. She’s currently in a medically induced coma, and the doctors don’t give her a lot of hope. They’re monitoring her brain function, which at the moment is nil. They’re planning to remove the respirator. From there, I guess it’s up to God what happens. It’s very sad, though.”
“And how do they know she’s Noelle’s mom?”
“Apparently she was lucid for a little while right after she was hit. She gave the emergency technicians enough information to help social services identify who was who in this case.”
“So Noelle has a family, then? Someone who might want to take her?”
“Not that they can find. They think that’s why Kristen was wandering the streets, poor girl. She must have been devastated—and desperate—to leave Noelle the way she did. I’ve been praying for her nonstop. I guess that’s all we can really do.”
“Yes. We should pray,” Heather agreed, her voice breaking. “That’s probably most important. Are you going to go see her?”
Shawn’s gaze shot to hers. She looked back at him with a clear and determined focus he’d not seen before.
With faith.
“Yes. I’m planning on it.”
“I thought you might. Where does that leave Noelle?”
“Right now? Nothing’s changed. But when they take Kristen off the ventilator…well, she’s not expected to make it.”
“Then Noelle becomes a ward of the state.”
“Yes.”
“And then you can officially adopt her.” Heather’s voice built in volume along with her excitement. “You’ll be able to give her a permanent home. Watch her grow up.”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that. The whole adoption thing—I’ve been thinking about it since the day Noelle entered my life, and I don’t believe I’m cut out for it. I mean, I’ve wondered, you know, if I could be a father.”
“What do you mean if you could be a father? Of course you could. You are. You’re doing a great job with her. You’ve adapted to being a daddy a lot better than many of the natural fathers I know.”
“I won’t be enough for her. I grew up with only my dad watching over me. My mom, she—” He paused a beat. “She was out of the picture.”
He didn’t think it was necessary to add that his dad hadn’t been much of a father. Heather had met the man and seen him in action. Kenneth O’Riley was an addict. His affection had been misplaced. Shawn had had nothing positive to draw on, no role model to grow up with.
And that was before even considering what Shawn himself had done—or failed to do, with David. Was it fair or safe to put Noelle into his care permanently?
“That must have been rough for you.”
“I’m not looking for sympathy. It was what it was, and anyway, I deserved it. But even if there wasn’t my lack of background in good family dynamics, I’d still worry that I’m not suited to parenthood. Today with Missy solidified it for me.”
“I’m not following. You were wonderful with Missy.”
“Maybe on the outside it seemed that way. Inside my gut was turning over like a combine and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. What I mean is—well, I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but what if her injury had been worse? What if I had made the wrong decision and she’d ended up in serious trouble? I didn’t know whether we should have called the paramedics. I made assumptions when I probably shouldn’t have. I’m no expert.”
“It could have been worse,” Heather acknowledged. “But it wasn’t.”
“And then I thought about Noelle, and what would happen if I adopted her. Something bad could happen to her and I would be powerless to stop it. And what if I made the wrong decision in the aftermath, and made things worse? I don’t think I could handle it if something serious happened to one of these kids. Yours or mine.”
“Do you hear yourself? That’s an incredibly defeatist attitude—and coming from you. You’ve jumped off the bull before it’s even out of the gate.”
“I know it seems that way, but—”
“But what, Shawn? Help me to understand. I see your reluctance. Feel it, even. It’s no small commitment you and I are considering, and our circumstances are far from ideal. It’s only natural that we’d be scared of the responsibility. But at the end of the day, we aren’t really in control of anything, are we? We don’t know what is going to happen from moment to moment. Every breath is a gift. Some of what happens to us and to the kids is going to be bad. Yes. But some of it will be good. Really good.”
She gestured to the sleeping infant. “Remember that amazing feeling you had the first time this sweet baby girl smiled at you? Well, there’s more to come. She’ll take her first step. It’ll happen before you know it. And she’ll say her first word, which I can tell you right now is going to be Dada.”
He grimaced.
She smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I accept the bad things that have happened to me. I hate that they happened, and I don’t know that I’ll ever completely recover. But those circumstances led me to having the heart to foster Jacob, Missy and Henry, and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
“You’re thinking of adopting them?”
“More than thinking about it. I’ve started filling out the paperwork. These kids have become everything to me—and I can’t imagine my life without them.”
She absently rubbed her thumb over his. He thought she probably wasn’t even aware of the motion, but for him, it was as if his skin had grown millions of little nerve endings, each one full of electricity.
“I know it’s not the traditional way of things. Us being single parents depending on help from friends and the community rather than spouses and family. And I do want the best for them. But these kids…” Her voice broke. “If they didn’t have me, they’d have no one.”
“They deserve you. And you deserve them. Don’t ever doubt yourself. I’m happy for you.”
“But that’s not how it’s going to be for you and Noelle.” It was a statement and not a question, and although he w
as certain Heather didn’t mean it that way, it almost felt like an accusation. It was the dark shadow of his own guilt lingering over him.
“No, I don’t think it is.” He could barely get the words out from between his clenched teeth, but it was all he could do to control the emotions thundering through him like a herd of wild horses—anger, shame, guilt, longing.
“Is it because of your pastorate? Are you afraid you won’t have enough quality time to spend with her? You know the people of Serendipity are going to gather around you and support you. Noelle will have more female role models than she knows what to do with. She’ll have me.”
“I know—you’re right about that. And I appreciate that you’d be there for Noelle. But I just can’t be responsible for another human life.”
“What did you say? Another?”
“That’s right.” His gaze met Heather’s and time stopped. He forgot to breathe. How quickly her curiosity would turn to aversion once he told her about David. But it was time for her to know the truth. “I was responsible for my brother’s death.”
Chapter Eight
“David.” Heather hoped her voice didn’t waver. Her mouth had suddenly gone as dry as the Texas plain in the middle of summer. It was all coming together. She could now make an educated guess as to who David was, and she wished she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear Shawn’s next words.
His face said it all.
“How do you know about David?”
“I don’t, really. I heard you talking about him when you were speaking with your father, but I had no idea he was your brother until now. What happened?”
She clung to his hand. Whatever he was about to say, she wanted him to know that she still believed in him. Cared for him, more than she wanted to admit, and definitely more than she should.
“I was eight years old, just a little bit younger than Jacob, and David was six,” he began, his lips quirking with anguish at the memory. “We were on vacation. At the beach off the coast of California. It’s the only time I’ve ever been to the ocean. Before or since.”
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