by Janet Dean
“Your mother’s resting at the Becker House,” his father went on. “She found the trip fatiguing.”
For a well-traveled woman, that hardly made sense. Was she leery of facing Luke after all the bitter words between them, afraid of his reaction? Whatever her reasons were for not accompanying his father didn’t matter. What mattered was protecting his son. “Why do you want to see Ben?”
“I’d think that’s obvious. We’re his grandparents. We should be involved in his life.” The uncomfortable expression on his father’s face gave him away. Thomas knew how ludicrous the claim would sound to Luke.
“You didn’t show the least interest when I told you about Ben’s plight and my intention to track him down.”
“Suffice it to say, we’ve had a tweak of conscience.”
All the pain of the past, the images of Joseph, reared up inside of him. Luke scowled. “That’s kind of new for you, isn’t it?”
Thomas didn’t meet Luke’s gaze. “I prefer seeing it as doing our duty.”
Luke saw no reason to expose his son to his parents, people who didn’t know the meaning of love, who’d carted off their younger son because of his imperfections.
His heart stuttered in his chest. If his parents saw Ben, they’d reveal Luke’s identity and ruin Ben’s life. He had to convince them to leave. “What if I told you Ben had epilepsy? How would you react to your grandson then?”
Dark, wounded eyes lifted to Luke’s. “I’m very sorry to hear that, but that’s all the more reason for us to help. We have the resources—”
“What? To put him in an institution? To do to my son what you did to Joseph?”
His father reached for Luke, but he stood too far away and grasped only air. “No!”
“Keep your voice down.” Luke glanced toward the examining room. “I don’t believe you.”
Thomas waved toward the window. “How can you keep him in this podunk town, when in New York, he can have every advantage?”
Hot waves of fury rushed through Luke’s veins. “The people Ben loves are here. I won’t move him.”
Thomas scowled. “As a doctor I’d think you’d want your son to receive the best care for his disease.”
Luke sighed. “Ben doesn’t have epilepsy.”
His father’s face crumpled. “So that statement was a test? Do you think so little of me?”
Luke didn’t answer. Anything he said would only add fuel to the fire. “I won’t let you see Ben.” He walked to the window, gazing out at the street. “No one knows Ben’s my son, and I insist on keeping it that way.”
“You’ve been in this town for weeks and haven’t claimed the boy?”
Luke whirled to face his father. “I won’t uproot him like…”
They stared at one another for what felt like forever.
“Like we uprooted Joseph? Isn’t that what you mean?” His father pointed a finger at Luke. “Aren’t you the hypocrite? You hammer at us for sending Joseph away. Perhaps you need to take a long, hard look at what you’re doing—denying your own child.”
“By not claiming him, I’m saving him.”
“That’s not how I see it.” His father’s eyes glinted like flint. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to bring Ben to us. If you don’t, in a town this size, it shouldn’t be difficult to track him down.” With that threat, his father strode out the door.
Luke’s thoughts flitted to an image of Mary hugging the child close. A staggering weight the size of Texas dropped onto his shoulders. He hadn’t spent much time talking to God since he’d arrived in town. If only God was listening.
Lord, I’ve made a mess of things. I’ve kept my identity secret, thinking it was best for everyone, but now, I see my actions are a sin of omission that could ruin Ben’s life.
He had to tell Mary the truth before she got wind of it.
God, help her understand.
That would take a miracle.
Luke took in Mary’s rosy cheeks, her green eyes brimming with joy, as she talked about her plan for medical school. This woman, beautiful inside and out, was a rare creature.
He turned to the window, watching the boys cavort in the backyard like puppies, happy and full of life. A normal family lived in this house. A family he’d never had but wanted with a desperation that left him shaken.
Mary saw Ben as a throwaway child, a child like herself. She’d never understand how he could turn his back on his unborn baby. What he must say would destroy the fragile threads of connection between him and Mary. If so, he deserved it, but his son didn’t.
Please, God, don’t let this harm Ben or Mary’s boys.
Luke’s eyes stung. His best intentions—all meant to ensure Ben was well cared for—had led his parents to Ben. He’d ruined everything.
“I told the boys about medical school.”
“How did they react?”
“Michael and Philip thought it was funny that I’ll be going to school like they do. None of the boys exhibited the least bit of concern.” She smiled. “I’ve talked to Carrie Foley. She’ll watch Ben while I go to classes, but come January, she won’t be available on Wednesdays. I feel sure the Willowbys will love having Ben one day a week. It’s all going to work out.”
“I’m glad.”
“You’ll be happy to know I even said no to a request to—” She stopped and shot him an odd look. “What’s wrong?”
Apprehension knotted at his throat, skittered down his spine. Would he be able to get the words out? He swallowed hard, fighting for composure, and then took Mary’s hand in both of his, meeting her perplexed gaze. “I know you’re expecting to receive Ben’s guardianship papers.” He shoved out the words. “They aren’t going to arrive.”
“What are you saying?”
He knew no other way to explain it but to tell her the hard truth. “I’m Ben’s biological father.”
The room stilled as if all the life had been sucked from it. Luke took a step closer, but Mary stumbled away from him.
“What?” Her face paled, oddly devoid of expression. “You’re Ben’s father? How is that possible?” She swayed on her feet. He reached for her, but she slapped at his hand, fending him off. “We’ve worked side by side, I’ve had you in my home, we’ve shared our thoughts and you’ve kept such a secret from me. I trusted you,” she said, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to protect Ben.” He hadn’t just been protecting Ben. He’d wanted to keep Mary’s good opinion, but by waiting, by living this lie, he’d ensured she’d never forgive him.
“Don’t you mean, protect your secrets? Isn’t that what’s happened since you came to town, Luke? You’ve kept one secret after another.” She shoved out a hand. “You’ve lied to me!”
“Can’t you see? Once I saw how happy Ben was, what a good mother you are, how much he loved Michael and Philip, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t risk ruining what Ben has here.” He reached for her hand. “You of all people should understand why. He’s happy, Mary. I couldn’t tear him from that.”
Her eyes misted. “If that’s true, why are you telling me now?”
He sucked in a breath. “My parents are in town. They’re insisting on seeing Ben.”
“See him?” She lurched to the sofa and sank into it as if her legs gave way. “Or take him?” Tears filled her eyes. “If they’re determined, with their money, you can’t stop them.”
“I won’t let that happen. I promise.”
“Why should I believe you?” she asked. Behind her the fire hissed, as if deriding him too.
He knew, before Mary opened her mouth, what question was coming. The one he hoped not to answer. The one that would reveal him to be a man without a heart, without the guts to do the job God had given him.
“After what you went through, how could you abandon your own child in an orphanage?”
The words hung in the air, caught in the ticking clock, the heavy silence between them. Luke examined his heart, searched his mind for an answe
r Mary would understand, but came up empty. What words could he offer to a woman who’d been abandoned as an infant that would ever justify his sin?
“I didn’t know Ben was in an orphanage.” Mistrust pooled in Mary’s eyes. It was true—you reaped what you sowed, and he had sown a bad path in those years. “I barely knew Lucy, Ben’s mother. When she told me she was pregnant, I didn’t want to marry her, to hitch my life to someone who clearly was the wrong woman. And to raise a child when I…” His voice trailed off. “Lucy didn’t want me either, but she did want money, so I took the easy way out. I paid her off, shutting that door to my past, or so I thought.”
Mary’s silence became his judge and jury. She stood as if seeing him for the first time, as if she again saw him as nothing but a peddler, here to steal the townspeople’s money and their misguided trust.
He had to get the ugly truth out, all of it. “Ben’s mother died from complications a few days after his birth. Without family to help her, she did the only thing she could do and placed the baby in an orphanage. I had no idea until—”
“Ben is your child, Luke! Your flesh and blood.” Her gaze went to the portrait of Philip and Michael on the mantel. Her features softened with love. “How could anyone give away their child? Pay for him to go away?”
Tears stung his eyes. “I was a different man then, Mary. That’s before I’d found God.”
She turned away from the portrait, the warm fire blazing in the hearth, her face cold, erecting an icy wall between them. Luke shivered.
“Are you a different man, Luke? You lied to me. You lied to your own son. All to protect the life you have.” Her eyes flared, and she pointed an accusing finger at him. “You wouldn’t want to inconvenience yourself with a family, now would you?” she said, her words laced with scorn.
“You don’t understand. I’m not the kind of man who should have a family.”
“I’d begun to trust you.” Her voice broke. “To care about you. You’ve broken that trust.”
He reached for her, tried to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes hardened like jade. “Sorry doesn’t change what you’ve done.”
“I promise I won’t uproot Ben.”
“I don’t believe anything you say. Please leave.”
With Mary’s words slashing at him, Luke walked out. In many ways, having the truth out in the open was a relief. He no longer had to watch every word he said. He’d grown up keeping secrets, but could Mary be right? Did he possess the same cruelty as his parents, who’d shuffled off a son who was an inconvenience?
A sob escaped his throat. He didn’t know himself at all.
But the bleak, aloof look in Mary’s eyes left no doubt in his mind. Any feelings Mary had for him had died, along with her trust.
Luke left Mary’s and strode to Doc’s office, closed at this hour. Days ago he’d told Henry about Joseph, shared the years of regret over his brother’s suffering. Henry had understood and joined Luke’s quest for a medicine to control epilepsy. He’d taught Luke how to relate to patients. He’d pushed him to fight Sloan in his blatant campaign for Mary’s affections. Doc had been Luke’s champion.
And now he had to expose who he was to this man, who’d been like a father to him but who would surely despise him now. Still, he couldn’t regret the existence of his precious son whose arrival on this earth should’ve been cause for celebration and wasn’t.
Inside the office, he saw no sign of Sloan and heaved a sigh of relief. He found Doc in the surgery, cleaning instruments.
One look at Luke’s face and Doc ushered him to a seat, then pulled a chair up beside him. “What’s wrong?”
The words flowed out of Luke. He didn’t gloss over one horrid truth. When he’d finished, Doc sat unmoving. Luke waited for his censure.
At last Henry met Luke’s gaze. “I thought something was bothering you but never imagined this. I’ll admit it’s thrown me.” His normally mellow eyes bored into him. “How’s Mary?”
“She’s furious and frightened that my parents will take Ben. I’ll never let that happen.”
Doc’s lips flattened. “You’ve hurt my daughter. I warned you about doing that.”
Luke’s gaze found the floor. “I’m sorry. I never meant to. But it’s too late to mend things between us.”
“Perhaps things aren’t as dire as you believe.”
Luke’s throat clogged. “She ordered me out of her house.”
“Mary’s disillusioned with you for not taking responsibility for your son. And rightly so.” Doc leaned toward him. “Your mistakes have impacted Ben. All of us.”
Luke nodded, sucking in air filled with the scent of antiseptic and soap. If only he could be cleansed as easily as the instruments now drying across the way. Inside he felt dirty. Unworthy. Rotten to the core. “I wish I’d been a better man.”
“So you found God after this?”
“Yes. But that cuts no ice with Mary. If I’d claimed Ben immediately, she might’ve found it in her heart to forgive me. But I didn’t feel fit to be a father to Ben.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I still don’t.”
“Do you believe any man feels qualified for such a role? The day Susannah found Mary on our doorstep we were suddenly thrust into parenthood. Mary doesn’t know this, but the timing wasn’t good. I’d just opened my practice. We didn’t have two nickels to rub together. God chose that uncertain time to give us our daughter.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “It was exactly the right time. Still, I remember the sense of inadequacy.”
“But even so, you took on the responsibility. I shirked it. Perhaps Mary is right. I see Ben as an inconvenience.”
“Isn’t it possible you’re just scared? You’ve had no example of fatherhood. If you’re looking for guidance, look at Jesus’s life, at His relationship with His Heavenly Father and with His earthly parents. Everything you need is in the Bible.” He rubbed his chin. “Give my daughter some time to think about this.”
“You have wisdom, Doc, but no concept of Mary’s anger. I’ve not only lost her trust, but I’ve lost her respect. I should’ve told her immediately.”
Doc’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure about that.” He spoke slowly like waiting for his mind to send each word. “What would that have done? Forced you to take Ben right then and there? You were a stranger. Ripping him from his family would’ve been horrible. Or perhaps you’d have told her but then left without getting to know your son. That would’ve been a loss for both of you.”
Luke hadn’t thought through the consequences of claiming Ben right off.
“Not that I’m making excuses for deceit, Luke. But knowing what I do about your brother, about your childhood, about your concern for Ben’s health and welfare, I can see you were in a tough spot.” He laid a hand on Luke’s arm. “You and God need to have a long talk.”
“I’ve asked God to forgive me for what I did to Lucy and my son, for not telling Mary the truth, but that won’t fix this mess.”
“No, but it fixes things between you and God. Never doubt He forgives a contrite heart. We humans find it difficult to forgive, not God.” Doc tightened his grip on Luke’s arm. “Right now things look bleak, but God has a way of bringing good out of bad. I’m praying for you, praying for my daughter and grandsons. Sometimes that’s all we can do.” Doc released his hold and gave a gentle smile. “God has a plan for our lives, even yours.”
“What plan are you speaking of?”
“Why, the plan that brought you to Noblesville. You’ve told me about Joseph, how his death caused you to pursue medicine.”
Luke frowned. “What does that have to do with my coming here?”
“Plenty. Joseph’s suffering lit a fire in you. I suspect what happened to your brother made you look for Ben. You had to ensure Ben didn’t wind up like Joseph. Am I right?”
Luke nodded.
“So, you came looking for Ben, peddling your remedy.” Doc rose and plucked a bottle of Luke’s remedy from the cabinet
. “This has improved the quality of people’s lives. You’ve become important to people in this town. To me. To Mary and the boys. All this happened because of Joseph.”
Luke’s gut knotted. “If that’s God’s plan, I’ve botched it. And I still haven’t found a remedy for epilepsy.”
“All in God’s time.”
The past couple of weeks Luke had pulled out the Bible in his nightstand drawer. He’s read a great deal about God, learned more about His patience. His justice. His power. His love. Hope roiled through him. Could God work this out?
Doc placed the bottle on the table in front of him. “Your quest is honorable, Luke, but finding medicines isn’t enough. Not for a man who loves God. Fight for what matters. Fight for your son. Fight for Mary. In doing so, you’ll find your heart—and God’s plan.” He rested a hand for a moment on Luke’s shoulder and then slipped out of the room.
Alone, Luke closed his eyes and leaned against the back of his chair. His throat knotted.
Could God bring good out of bad?
His gaze moved to the bottle. In his mind, he saw Mary opposing him that first day. As if she’d instinctively known he meant nothing but trouble in her life. In Ben’s. Doubt coiled through him, weighed down his limbs until he couldn’t move.
No matter what Doc had said, his medicine reminded Luke of failure. He’d found no cure for epilepsy. He didn’t have the money to build a refuge for those afflicted with the disorder. And he’d let Mary down. He’d let down his son. Worst of all, he’d opened the door to his parents who were capable of anything.
He gave the bottle a shove, harder than he meant to. It toppled, sliding across the table and disappearing off the edge, hitting the floor, splattering liquid and shattered glass in every direction.
A mess. Exactly what he’d made of his life.
Mary sat in the back of Addie’s shop while her sister-in-law brewed tea. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she forced them away. Luke was leaving. She was sure of it. How right she’d been when she’d accused him of not being able to get involved. He didn’t deserve her tears. He’d let her down, as Sam had.