by Janet Dean
Lord, help me forgive. The anger and pain she’d carried all these years fell away. The time for blame had ended. A backbreaking heaviness lifted from her shoulders and a blessed sense of peace slid through her. “It’s taken me far too long, but I finally see Sam did the best he could.”
Addie rose and wrapped her arms around Mary’s shoulders. “I admire you, more than I can say.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t. I’ve been a bitter, unforgiving woman.”
“That’s not true. To forgive you have to heal first, and healing takes time. I know that from my own life, and I’ve seen it with Charles.”
Thank You, Lord, for helping me to heal, to forgive. Thank You for forgiving me, for dying for me, for never letting me go through one single day alone.
“Now, about your boys,” Addie said, as if sensing the need for a change in subject. “Try talking to them. Get their reaction to medical school.” Addie met her gaze. “Maybe you should let your sons see what’s going on behind that brave front of yours. Show your feelings.”
Mary couldn’t expose her sons to all she held inside. She needed to protect them, as a mother should, as she’d always done. Maybe one day…
Right now, other things concerned her. Like how her sons faired. “Luke claims Michael sees himself as the head of the house, trying to shoulder the responsibilities of a man.”
Addie’s face softened. “William behaved like a little old man when he first came to live with us. Chances are, Mary, your sons were aware of the tension in your house. My mother’s unhappiness hurt me, not physically like Sam and Charles’ father’s beatings, but I still paid a price. If only Momma could have explained how the men in her life hurt her. I’d have understood her behavior, and maybe the admission would’ve brought us closer.”
“Oh, Addie, are you saying my sons saw the trouble between Sam and me?”
“I don’t know. But I’m certain of one thing. They’re fortunate to have you for their mother. They feel loved, while I didn’t. Talk with your boys. See if they’ll speak frankly. Pray with them. Pray for them. Charles and I’ll pray for all of you.”
Mary nodded, determined to talk to Philip about his stomachaches and to Michael about taking on a role too big for him. But she couldn’t risk revealing Sam’s drinking, a subject better left closed. They were too young to understand. Besides, she couldn’t bear for them to think ill of their father.
Mary kissed Lily’s forehead and then handed the sleeping baby to her mother. “I’ll talk to them. Thanks for listening.”
On the way home, Mary realized that even with Addie’s support, after talking with her, Mary felt adrift in a world where people walked two by two.
She thought back to yesterday with Luke…and wondered…was it possible to have what Addie spoke of? To have a marriage based on an alliance between a man and a woman, instead of living behind the facade of a happy family?
But then she reminded herself dreams could easily vanish, as hers had with Sam. This time, she’d be like Daniel with King Belshazzar and read the handwriting on the wall. In the case of Luke Jacobs, the writing was crystal clear.
Luke might hold an attraction for her, but he didn’t hold any of the answers.
Mary entered the office, hung her coat on the hall tree by the front door and then went in search of her father. She found him in the surgery going through cabinets. “I’m here.”
Henry smiled. “Did you have a good visit with Addie?”
“Yes. Lily’s beautiful and sleeping through the night.”
“In all my years of doctoring, I’ve never seen a more contented baby.” Her father chuckled. “Well, except for a lusty protest upon her arrival.”
“Where is everyone?”
“Luke’s out on a house call. I think Frank’s in the backroom. It’s been a quiet morning.”
“Glad you weren’t swamped while I was socializing.”
Her father put an arm around her. “With three doctors in the practice, there’s no reason you can’t take a break.”
“You do know Luke is leaving, right, Daddy?”
“Well, he hasn’t, now has he?”
Now that Frank had entered the practice, why did Luke stay? Something unnamed inside her tightened, filling her with unease. “I don’t understand that either.”
Her father winked. “I think I do.”
“What are you saying?”
“I have eyes. Luke’s are on you, if you’re within his line of vision.”
Mary glanced into the hall to make sure she had privacy, then turned to her father. “I won’t deny there’s an attraction between us, but something else is there too.” She bit her lip, trying to voice a vague, yet real sense of disquiet about Luke. “I think he’s hiding something.”
Her father’s untamed brows rose. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. I just feel it.”
“Hmm. From what he said, he found the Lord fairly recently. If he doesn’t fully comprehend the forgiveness of God, something in his past may be troubling him.”
Could that explain why Luke talked about his difficult childhood, about his career, but glossed over years in between? “Maybe that’s it.” But guilt didn’t explain why he stayed.
“I’ll have a talk with him. Make it clear a believer’s forgiven, no matter how troubled his past. When a man can’t accept forgiveness, he usually hasn’t forgiven himself.”
That Luke might struggle with regrets as she did pressed against her heart. She might not want to care about this man, but she did. “If that’s true, I hope you can help him.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be at my desk.”
Outside the backroom, she stopped. Frank sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a medical journal. “Good morning.”
The young doctor rose, beaming at her like the noonday sun. “Mary, join me for a cup of coffee during this lull.”
She took in his smiling face, his eager posture. Frank was a good man, open, easy on the eyes, and he was clearly interested in her. He was everything any woman would want. So why didn’t she feel a thing when he was near? Perhaps her lack of response was the most compelling reason for giving him a chance. Her attraction to Sam had clouded her judgment and made her rush into a marriage that had gone wrong. Perhaps if she spent more time with Frank…“Thanks, I will.”
He grabbed the pot off the stove and filled a mug and then placed it on the table. He pulled out her chair and sat beside her, always the perfect gentleman. “I missed seeing your smiling face when I came in this morning.”
“I stopped to see my sister-in-law.”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Graves. I met her at church. A lovely woman.”
“Yes, she’s more like a sister to me.”
“I know the importance of family. I ought to, with four older siblings, all married, and fifteen nieces and nephews.” He chuckled. “I’m a late-in-life baby. Sometimes I think my parents are still recovering from the shock.”
Mary laughed. “I doubt that. I’m sure they’re proud of you.”
He grinned. “The whole bunch is busting buttons at having a doctor in the family. I come from hard-working, God-fearing farm folk. I worked on the farm for several years before deciding to enter medicine.”
If Frank hadn’t gone directly to college, he was probably about her age. Yet somehow he acted years younger, perhaps because he couldn’t pass a mirror without combing his handsome head of hair. Well, he might be vain, but a man could have worse faults.
“That life made me who I am today. I’m not afraid of long hours, of doing without while I build my career.” He smiled at her. “And I love kids.”
Mary’s stomach tightened. Frank spoke like a lawyer building his case. What was behind such eagerness?
He took a sip of coffee, studying her. “Tell me about you.”
“I’m an only child who grew up under this very roof. As you already know, I’m a widow with three sons.”
“And soon to be a doctor.”
Her fingers tightened on the handle of the mug. “I hope I make it.”
“You will. Any woman who can raise three children, work here and stay involved in the community like you do can handle medical school.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Just stating the facts.”
Sipping her coffee, Mary gazed into Frank’s guileless blue eyes. Nothing about him suggested he had anything to conceal.
What a contrast to Luke.
“How about having dinner with me tonight?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Frank moved fast. But she really should give him a chance. Her sons wanted a father. He’d made it clear he loved children and family. Maybe in time, he’d grow on her. “After being away from the boys all day, I don’t like to leave them at night. Would you care to join us for dinner instead?”
“Yes, I would. Very much.”
“I live a stone’s throw from here.” She scribbled her address on a pad of paper, tore it off and handed it to him. “We eat at six.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Mary. I look forward to it.”
Luke appeared in the doorway. His gaze dropped to their entwined hands. Mary pulled hers away then chided herself for her reaction. If she wished, she could hold the hand of every man in town. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d better get to work.”
Luke frowned as Mary dashed by. He’d obviously interrupted a cozy moment between her and Frank. Isn’t that what he wanted? So why did the sight of Sloan holding her hand bang against every nerve? He turned to go.
“May I speak to you a second?” Sloan asked.
Luke nodded, though at the moment he’d prefer conversing with a rattlesnake.
“I feel like I should ask. Is there anything between you and Mary?”
A connection Luke couldn’t admit. A child they both loved. Luke shoved his response past clenched teeth. “No.”
Sloan smiled. “Good. From the scowl on your face, I was afraid you’d staked a claim.”
“Mary’s not a piece of land up for grabs.” Sloan chuckled, like Luke had made a joke, but he’d never been more serious. “You’ve mentioned a desire to be on staff at the best hospital in the country. You should know Mary loves this town. She wants to take over the practice one day, continuing her father’s legacy.”
Sloan’s self-satisfied smile set Luke’s teeth on edge. “A noble goal, but once Mary discovers a whole world’s out there to explore, she may broaden her sights.”
Remembering Mary’s desire to travel, Luke cringed inwardly. Could she be persuaded to leave? To leave the people she cared about in this town, her father and the legacy she said she wanted to continue?
He hauled in a shaky breath. Perhaps with this dashing fellow she could leave it all behind and never look back.
“I’ll have a chance to discuss it with her tonight. She’s invited me to her house for dinner.”
A muscle worked in Luke’s jaw. He pried open his mouth and said, “If you’re intending to court Mary, I hope you have permanence in mind.”
“Permanence?”
He laid his palms on the table and leaned toward Sloan until they were nose to nose. “Yeah, like a ring on her left hand.”
Frank slid his chair back. “It’s a bit early for that discussion, but I will tell you this much, Doctor, I don’t play games.”
“Glad to hear it.” With that lie fresh on his lips Luke left the room.
The Children’s Aid Society had given him until the end of the month to claim Ben. He couldn’t tear that child out of Mary’s arms nor could he let Ben go. He cared about his son more than he’d ever imagined possible.
Yet he couldn’t stomach the idea of staying and watching Sloan woo Mary.
But to stay, to fight for Mary, he’d have to tell her the truth about Ben. About his past. Once Mary learned he was Ben’s father, and the circumstances surrounding his birth, she’d never forgive him. He’d made his bed.
No one had told him lying in it would be this painful.
Chapter Fifteen
In his room over the carriage house, Luke dropped onto his bed. Since the minute he’d arrived in this town, he’d lived a lie. Not in so many words but a lie nevertheless.
He’d done it to protect Ben.
How could he disrupt the boy’s life when he had a good mother like Mary and two brothers who plainly adored him? Why rip him from the safe haven he knew? If Luke accepted his paternity, the Children’s Aid Society had made it clear he’d be expected to raise him.
But he couldn’t be a good father. He didn’t even know what a good father was.
If only he knew that Mary could forgive him for his treatment of Lucy, for keeping his fatherhood secret, then perhaps he could stay, could share his feelings for her. Unlikely as it was, if she could find a way to return those feelings, perhaps they could marry and make a real home.
But that meant settling down. He didn’t know how to forge a family.
What example did he have? Years at boarding schools without one shred of interest from his parents, as a small boy trying over and over again to please them, desperate for one smidgen of approval and failing. Recurring nightmares of Joseph, the brother Luke had loved unabashedly, being ripped from his arms. One scene after another paraded through his mind, each incident filled with rejection or pain. His fists knotted at his sides as anger, guilt and loss galloped through him, eating at his wounds.
Look where loving had gotten him.
Worse, if Mary could find it in her heart to forgive and love him, he’d inevitably let her down. The only thing he excelled at was his work. He thrived in the solitary existence of his lab. There he could make amends for his failure to help his brother, for his failure to do right by Lucy.
At some point, what if he got that itch to leave? Or worse, turned out to be like his father? Harsh, disapproving, distant?
But whether he was prepared to be part of a family or not, once Mary knew the truth, she’d never forgive him. His heart panged in his chest. The best thing to do was to leave town, leave Ben in Mary’s care, a safe, comfortable pocket of happiness.
At the prospect of never seeing Mary and the boys, his throat tightened. It might kill him to go, but by leaving he’d be ensuring Ben had a good life.
Mary opened the door, welcoming Frank into her home. He swept a black bowler from his head. Dressed in a suit and tie, he made a handsome figure. “Let me take your hat,” she said, pleased he had the good sense and decorum to wear one. She doubted Luke even owned a hat.
Her sons stood apart, watching with uncertain eyes. Frank ambled over to them, talking about the latest Cincinnati Reds game. The boys followed baseball, and their eyes shone with excitement. She left the room to finish preparations for dinner, certain her sons hadn’t realized she’d gone. Obviously Frank’s experience with his nieces and nephews stood him in good stead with her sons. Normally reticent with strangers, especially men, Michael and Philip took to Frank like fleas to a long-haired dog.
Or perhaps Luke’s coming around had prepared them for Frank.
Too bad he’d ruined her for any other man.
Where had that come from? She didn’t love Luke Jacobs. Barely trusted him, in fact. She’d do well to concentrate on Frank Sloan, exactly what she’d do for the rest of the evening.
Dinner went well. No spilled milk, no squabbles, no whining about the food. When they finished, Mary cleared the table, and the three boys and Frank played dominoes while Mary cleaned up in the kitchen. Frank didn’t offer to help with the dishes but then she hadn’t expected him to. Her father hadn’t done domestic chores and neither had Sam.
Still, a whisper of disappointment ran through her. She couldn’t help but compare Frank to Luke. To compare the entire night to one much like this a week ago. Water up to her wrists, she remembered Luke standing exactly in this spot, doing the same. Her heart twisted for a moment. She wished he was here with her now, with that grin of his a
nd that twinkle in his eye.
Yet Luke held things back, didn’t want permanence. Too much about Luke Jacobs warned her away.
So why couldn’t she put him out of her mind?
Luke opened the door to the waiting room, ready to call back the next patient. Normally Mary took care of ushering people into the examining room, but when appointments ran late as they had today, she had to gather Ben and get home before Michael and Philip came in from school. Whenever Mary left the office, he had the weirdest sense of loss. He missed her. Badly.
A woman sat near the outer door holding a baby. According to the schedule, written in Mary’s neat script, that had to be little Quincy Shriver and his mother. Across the way, a man stood in front of the window, his back to the room. The set of his shoulders, the way he held himself all pointed to one man. Thomas Jacobs. Everything within Luke froze.
His father turned to face him. “Hello, Luke.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Not a very warm greeting for your flesh and blood.”
The baby hiccupped, and his mother patted the infant’s back, watching the exchange with unabashed interest.
“Dr. Lawrence is in the examining room, Mrs. Shriver,” Luke said. “Why don’t you and Quincy go on back?”
Once they were alone, Luke strode to where his father stood. Thomas’s gaze roamed the room lined with battered Windsor chairs. The bouquet of asters and pictures of the boys on Mary’s desk didn’t disguise the simplicity of Doc’s waiting room. “I can’t understand how you could leave a prosperous practice—” his hand swept the space “—for this.”
“Small-town practice may not be lucrative, but I find the work satisfying.”
His father smirked. “Ah, you’ve always been the family philanthropist.”
“I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”
“Your mother and I have come to meet our grandson.”
His parents wanted to see Ben? The punch of his father’s words whacked Luke low in his gut, stealing his breath. That his parents had come all this way to see their grandson was so improbable Luke couldn’t have prepared for it in his wildest imaginings. What motive did they have?