A Place for Family

by Mia Ross

  Over the years, she’d learned plenty of tricks for unblocking your creative mind, but no matter what she tried, the opening was as far as she got. The concept was not to worry while you’re gone, because this devoted animal lover will make sure your pets are well cared-for in your absence. On time, any species, reasonable rates.

  Those were her notes, but the more she read through them, the more the words started to blur together. Realizing that she’d hit a wall, she stood and arched her sore back while she walked over to the window.

  Waddled, she corrected herself. With only three weeks left to her due date, the penguin gait had taken over, big-time. She slept half-sitting up because getting out of bed had gotten to be so difficult, she was afraid one morning she wouldn’t be able to do it and would have to call for a crane. It felt as if her entire life was spinning out of control, at the mercy of the demanding little person growing inside her.

  No. Putting a stop to the negative train of thought, she closed her eyes and tipped her head down in silent prayer.

  Please, God. Help me through this.

  She’d discovered that when she let go of the reins and trusted Him to take care of things, she always felt better. That was the lesson, she realized. It explained why people who leaned on their faith weathered difficult times better than others. They could turn to Someone who had the ultimate wisdom and strength no human being could match. It was comforting, and more than once she’d kicked herself for straying so far away.

  But right now, she needed ideas. Harland’s streets weren’t as bustling as a city’s, but there was usually something going on. She would have gone down to mingle, but the stairs were getting tougher to navigate with the extra weight she was carrying. The trip down was okay, but the daunting prospect of coming back up convinced her to stay put. Pushing aside her longing to join the world, she contented herself with opening the window for some fresh air.

  A teenage girl was just leaving the beauty shop, pulling straight, stylishly angled hair over her shoulders before snapping a picture of herself with her phone. Wearing a delighted smile, she tapped away on the screen, obviously sending the photo to someone. Beyond her, two old farmers in jeans and plaid jackets were yacking. One of them slapped the other on the back, and they both laughed loudly enough that she could hear them from her perch two stories up.

  She could see quite a bit of the town, and she kept skimming, trolling for PR ideas. As her eyes cruised past the square, they landed on something she would have barely noticed a few months ago. Now, it drew her attention like a magnet.

  A young couple was walking with a small child between them. Dressed in overalls and a ball cap, his little sneakers wobbled along as he held both his parents’ hands. Clearly learning how to walk, he stopped a few times, and finally plopped down on the sidewalk.

  Unfazed, his father scooped him up and tossed him in the air, and he responded with that delighted child’s laugh that could make even a heartless miser smile. Then the young father set him down, held him until he was steady, and both parents took the boy’s hands again. Headed for the town playground, they tottered along until they were out of her sight.

  Every child should have that, she thought as her view swam with tears. A mommy and a daddy, one for each hand, ready to pick her up when she fell and push her on the swings. Her daughter would have only Amanda, who needed to work to support them both.

  John was serious about loving her—that much she knew. And she felt the same about him, but they hadn’t gotten anywhere near discussing the M word yet. While the thought of being someone’s wife terrified her, the possibility of divorcing her best friend absolutely paralyzed her. She had no intention of signing on for anything she wasn’t confident about, so marriage—if it ever came—could be months or even years away.

  That meant she was on her own.

  The baby chose that precise moment to go into her imitation of a mini-Rockette, and Amanda rubbed a hand over the ruckus, hoping to soothe it while she calmed her own nerves. The child refused to settle, and she began to wonder if her daughter was trying to tell her something. Like, “Please, Mommy, give me a real family.”

  “I can’t,” Amanda said out loud, feeling horrible. “It won’t be that way for us.”

  All of a sudden, the kicking stopped, and she felt the baby roll in her confined space and stop moving. Amanda knew it was insane, but she felt as if her child had turned away, too disappointed to play with her anymore.

  Sobbing uncontrollably, Amanda collapsed into a worn armchair and cried for longer than she ever had in her life. A creative thinker by nature, she firmly believed every problem had a solution. But this time, she was at a loss. While she wallowed in misery of her own making, a commercial came on the radio about foster parents.

  “You don’t need to be perfect,” the kind woman’s voice assured her listeners. “You just need to be there.”

  Nice thought, she mused, but it didn’t make her feel any better. After a couple of songs, the message from the ad got through, and she had an epiphany. Maybe, she thought excitedly as she shuffled over to her computer, there was a way.

  * * *

  Sometimes, rain was a good thing.

  They’d kept an eye on the weather all morning, baling their last cutting of hay like there was no tomorrow. Running it straight to the distributor in Kenwood took time, but in the end it meant they only had to load and unload the trucks once. John was on his way back with the last one, empty except for a layer of stray pieces he’d sweep out later.

  Right now, he was on his way to surprise Amanda. It was a little early for supper, but she was always hungry these days, so he figured she wouldn’t complain. She might even let him pick up the whole tab this time.

  He pulled into two open spots that wouldn’t clog up the parking in front of anyone’s store, then grabbed two white takeout bags from a new chicken place he’d come across on his drive back into town. Dodging raindrops, he got out of the truck and climbed the outside stairs that led to the second-floor landing.

  Outside her door, he kicked quietly with his boot. “Room service!”

  “John?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have chicken.” It took her a few seconds, but he waited patiently, grinning when she opened the door. “It’s raining.”

  When she laughed, it occurred to him that he hadn’t heard that from her much lately. He wondered what had happened to brighten her mood on such a gloomy afternoon.

  “I can see that. Come on in.” She moved back to let him in and closed the door. Sniffing the air, she smiled. “Smells good.”

  “Fried for me, broiled for you. How you can eat such bland food is beyond me.”

  “Less fat equals less to lose after the baby’s born.”

  Being a farmer, John didn’t worry much about working off what he ate. “Must be a California thing.”

  “We aren’t all born buff like you. Have a seat, and I’ll get some plates.”

  John plunked himself down in one of the two chairs at her table and noticed her computer open. “Working on that pet-sitting thing?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Her tone should have been all the warning he needed, but he couldn’t resist leaning in to see what was on the screen. She hadn’t told him not to, but when he read the title, he really wished she had.

  His heart lurched into his throat, and he waited a few beats so he’d sound reasonably interested instead of panicked. After all, he didn’t know much about PR. Maybe he’d misunderstood. “What are you doing on an adoption website?”

  “I’m just getting some information right now.” Moving the offensive laptop to the counter, she began setting two places at the table. “Infants are really in demand these days.”

  “Yeah, so are soybeans,” he shot back. Her casual manner irritated him, and he figured the time for being calm had passed. “I
can’t believe you’re thinking about giving away the baby you claim to love so much. Your daughter.”

  Hoping to shame her into seeing reason, he leaned heavily on the last word. She didn’t even blink.

  “I’m considering this because I do love her so much,” Amanda said quietly. “I want her to have everything, and she won’t get that with me.”

  “Everything like what?”

  “A mother and father, for starters.”

  “Give me a break.” Growing more frustrated by the second, he reminded her, “Dad raised four kids on his own, and he did a great job.”

  “I’m not Ethan.”

  “I know that, but—”

  “I’m not discussing this with you anymore,” she announced in that high-and-mighty tone he despised. “You’ve made your feelings clear, but in the end this is my decision.”

  Slumping in his chair, John picked at the chicken he couldn’t wait to rip into five minutes ago. A thought popped into his head, and he pegged Amanda with a very direct look. “Is this why you haven’t picked out a name for her? Were you planning to give her away all along?”

  “Don’t say it like that,” Amanda snapped. “I haven’t decided anything yet, I’m just exploring the options.”

  “Your options. She doesn’t get a say, does she? ’Cause she’s a helpless little baby.”

  John knew he’d landed a blow when tears started pooling in Amanda’s eyes.

  “Don’t do that to me,” she whispered. “This is really, really hard.”

  It took every ounce of strength he had not to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. But he’d learned that when she needed that, she’d come to him. He did uncross his arms and fold his hands in his lap to give a more open-minded appearance. “You haven’t said a word about any of this before. What happened?”

  She told him about the little boy and his parents, how idyllic that scene was. “I just want her to have a family like that.”

  Inspired, John did the most impulsive thing he’d done in his whole impulsive life. “Then let’s give her one.”

  “What?”

  Realizing that she wasn’t following along, he took her hands in his and went down on one muddy knee beside her. “Amanda, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  Gasping, she jerked her hands away, shaking her head so violently, he was afraid she’d snap her neck. She was struggling to get out of her chair, and John felt compelled to help her up. When he tried, she slapped his hand away and pushed herself to her feet. She skittered as far away from him as she could in the small room, and the tears streaming down her face almost did him in.

  With his heart tumbling in a free-fall, he gave her the space she was so frantically trying to put between them. Recalling that Amanda cried at puppy-food commercials these days, he went with some humor to lighten the moment. “Did I do that wrong?”

  Making a sound that was half sob and half laugh, she shook her head but still refused to meet his eyes. After a few deep breaths, she wiped her cheeks and squared her shoulders before facing him.

  “John, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I’m sorry I reacted so badly.”

  “That’s okay.” Relief started flooding in, and he felt his heart recovering some altitude.

  Her next look sent it spiraling back down again. “But I could never accept your proposal now. It’s because of the baby, and I don’t want you to regret it.”

  “I wouldn’t.” He stood and moved closer, just enough to remind her that he’d promised to be there for her, no matter what. “You’ve seen me. I love kids, and they’re pretty fond of me, too.”

  “I know.” She sounded so miserable, he knew he hadn’t quite convinced her. “But this is the rest of our lives you’re talking about. You can’t just jump off a cliff like that when you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’m good at winging things.”

  Wrong choice of words, he realized when she slowly shook her head. “You don’t ‘wing things’—” she did those annoying air quotes “—when a child is involved. I have a few weeks still, and I’ll make a rational, mature decision about what to do. I hope you’ll agree with it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  She arched one eyebrow, looking so calm her meaning was crystal clear. If he didn’t go along, it didn’t matter. Amanda was doing what she wanted, just as she always did.

  After all they’d been through, the massive effort he’d put in to make her feel safe and loved, nothing had changed.

  “I just need for you to understand,” she confessed, easing back a touch.

  Oddly enough, her emotional appeal was what finally set him off.

  Furious, he pointed to the laptop screen, still frozen on the adoption website. “I’ll never understand how you could even think of giving your baby away.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off. “Don’t correct me, ’cause that’s what it is. You’re perfectly capable of giving your daughter the family you want her to have, but you won’t because you’re too scared and stubborn to marry me.”

  “Even if it was just you and me, I would’ve said no. It’s a huge step, and I don’t want either of us committing to it until we’re absolutely sure it’s going to work.”

  “You want a family—I offered you one.”

  “You’re not ready for that right now, and you know it. You only asked so I’ll keep the baby.”

  Her phrasing had taken on a more positive note, and John felt a glimmer of hope flare inside him. “Will you?”

  In reply, she frowned and bit her lip. He could see she was confused, but she’d taken a stand and refused to back away from it. “Quit badgering me and let me figure this out for myself.”

  Outmaneuvered by a gorgeous blonde with an exasperating mind of her own, John finally admitted defeat.

  “Fine.” Fishing the keys out of his pocket, he headed for the door. There was a good chance they’d never discuss this again, so he thought it best to make his position absolutely clear. Turning, he looked her dead in the eyes.

  “But if you give this child away, we’re done. You might as well go back to California and never come back.”

  With that, he spun on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and the Sawyers had gathered for their customary family supper. Something was up this week, though. John recognized it the second he saw Matt’s face as he, Caty and Hailey made their way into the kitchen.

  He was smiling. Not the half smirk he usually wore, but an all-out grin, as if he’d just heard the best news of his life. John was dying to know what had put that cat-in-cream look on his intense big brother’s face, but he sensed there was news to share and didn’t want to spoil the moment.

  Once they were all settled, Matt folded his hands on the table and glanced around the group that had grown considerably in the past three years. Caty had become a Sawyer, and Ridge had dropped out of the sky to join Marianne and her kids. Seth’s quiet presence was a welcome addition to the chaos, keeping Lisa grounded in reality. With Hailey, Drew and Chelsea added to the mix, the old farmhouse was full to bursting.

  Ethan would have loved it, John thought fondly. Now, he could think of his father without choking on the guilt he’d carried around for so long. Amanda had helped him put that behind him, and he’d always be grateful to her. But thinking of her made him sad, so he pushed the thought aside to focus on happier things.

  As Matt smiled at each of them in turn, he resembled Ethan more than he ever had in his life. John recognized that something important had changed inside his brother, and he suspected Hailey was the reason.

  Family, John thought with pride. This was what it was all about.

  “I’ve
got something to tell all of you,” Matt began in his low drawl. After pausing for effect, he went on. “As of five o’clock today, the Sawyer farm is officially out of debt.”

  Everyone whooped and hollered, and even Tucker joined in, jumping up and down, barking his approval. John knew how the Lab felt.

  “That’s awesome! But I don’t get it,” John added in confusion. “We were way short in May. What happened?”

  “The price of soybeans doubled in October. Some blight somewhere, so the value of ours went through the roof. Congratulations, Goldilocks. Your crazy experiment put us over the top.”

  Ridge clapped John on the shoulder. “Nice job.”

  “I have to admit, I was skeptical,” Matt confided.

  Caty laughed. “As usual.”

  “But you were right on the money, John,” he continued, ignoring the jab. “Assuming we don’t have a drought or flood next year, this farm will actually make money for the first time in ten years. Thanks to you.”

  His proud smile made John sit up a little straighter, and he nodded his appreciation. Matt didn’t often call people out that way—good or bad. That he’d chosen to do it now made it clear just how much John’s efforts had meant to the overall health of their family’s business.

  “That’s really cool, Uncle John,” Kyle chimed in. “You should plant more soybeans next year.”

  “Yeah, I should.” Rubbing his sore shoulders, he chuckled. “Maybe it’ll be easier next time.”

  “We’ve got good news, too.” Ridge traded grins with Kyle. “Wanna tell them?”

  “Ann Marie’s almost ready,” the boy said excitedly.

  Marianne’s expression brightened even more than it had with Matt’s revelation. “I can’t believe it! That’s wonderful.”

  The others piled on their own praise about the biplane, and then dug into their meals. This was what they’d all been praying and working for. With that huge loan payment off their backs, they could plan for the future instead of putting all their energy into clawing their way out of what had seemed like an inescapable hole. But while he enjoyed the lively banter that moved around the table with the passing of salad and pork roast, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Someone.