Heart of the Family

by Margaret Daley

  “I’m glad you came with me.” Hannah pushed her purse under the seat.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? We can always leave.” Jacob parked in front but left the engine running.

  She studied the dirty windows facing them and thought she saw someone looking out. The curtain fell back in place. “No, we came this far. I need to finish this.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Haven’t you noticed how reserved and hesitant Nancy is when Andy’s mother is visiting? When I try to talk to her, she won’t say anything. She sucks her thumb and holds her blanket.”

  “As much as you’d love to fix every relationship between the children at the refuge and their parents, you won’t be able to. Not every mother has maternal instincts.”

  “Like yours?”

  “Exactly.” A nerve ticked in his jaw. “I’m glad no one tried.”

  “You need to forgive your mother,” she said, knowing firsthand how important it was to do that if you wanted to move on.

  His hard gaze drilled into her, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because she’s still affecting your life and will until you let go of the anger.”

  “I don’t think I can. The things she did…”

  “The Lord said in Matthew, ‘For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.’”

  “I can’t. I…” His voice came to a shaky halt. He drew in a breath and stared at the small house. “Someone’s opening the door. Let’s get this over with.”

  The finality in his tone ended the conversation. Hannah climbed from the car at the same time Jacob did, his expression totally void of any emotion. But waves of underlying tension came off him as he approached the house.

  A woman in her midtwenties, dressed in torn, ragged jeans and a sweatshirt pushed the screen open and stepped out onto the porch. “We don’t want any. Git off my land.”

  A medium-sized man with a beard appeared in the entrance. Hannah’s gaze fixed upon the shotgun cradled in his arms, then bounced to his face, set in a scowl that chilled her.

  “Ya heard her. Git. Now.” The man gestured with a nod toward the road behind Jacob and Hannah.

  Jacob edged to her side and grasped her hand. “Let’s do as they say.”

  Hannah started to move back toward the passenger door when she remembered finding Nancy crying last weekend for her mama. The sight had wrenched her heart. She halted. “Are you Abby Simons?”

  The woman stiffened, still between them and the man behind her. “Who’s askin’?”

  A stench—a myriad of odors she couldn’t even begin to identify—accosted Hannah’s nostrils. “I’m Hannah Smith. I run the place that Nancy is at.”

  “So? What’s she gone and done wrong now?” Abby planted one hand on her hip, her eyes pinpoints.

  “Nothing. She’s a delight to have at the house.”

  Abby snorted. “That’s your opinion. I have nothin’ to say to ya.” She turned to go back inside.

  “You don’t want to see her?” Her stomach roiled. Hannah resisted the urge to cover her mouth and nose to block the smells coming from the house and the couple.

  A curse exploded from the woman’s lips. “I say good riddance. All she did was whine.” She shoved past the man with the weapon.

  He glared at Jacob and Hannah. “What’s keepin’ ya?” He adjusted the gun in the crook of his arms.

  Jacob squeezed her hand and tugged her back. “We’re going.” He jerked open the passenger door and gently pushed Hannah into the car, then rounded the back and climbed in behind the wheel, his gaze never leaving the man holding the weapon.

  Fifteen seconds later dust billowed behind his car as he raced toward the highway. He threw her a look of relief. “We could have been killed. I think they’re running a meth lab.”

  “You do?”

  “You didn’t smell it?”

  “I don’t know how one smells.”

  “When we get back to Stone’s Refuge, I’m calling the sheriff, although I doubt there will be any evidence left when he arrives.” Jacob pressed his foot on the accelerator.

  Hannah waited for him to tell her he had told her so, but he didn’t. Quiet reigned as the landscape flew past them.

  She’d gone into social work to help others. But perhaps Jacob was right. She was too naive. She had a lot to learn. Even if Nancy was never adopted, she was better off where she was than with her mother.

  “I was wrong,” Hannah finally murmured in the silence.

  “About Nancy, yes. The verdict on Andy’s situation is still out.”

  “You think there’s a chance it will work?” At the moment she needed validation she wasn’t totally off-the-wall about trying to reunite children with their parents, if possible.

  He slanted a quick look toward her, warmth in his eyes. “His mother completed her drug-rehab program. That’s a start. As well as getting a job. She’s living at the halfway house for the time being, and they’re wonderful support for people who are trying to get back on their feet.” His gaze found hers again. “Yes, I think there’s a chance.”

  His words made her beam from ear to ear. She felt as though she were shining like a thousand-watt bulb.

  “Time will tell and don’t be surprised if Lisa backslides. I remember when I quit smoking. I must have tried four or five times before I finally managed to.”

  “You smoked?”

  “Yeah. I started when I was thirteen. I finally stopped when I was eighteen. But it was one of the hardest things I ever did. And staying off drugs will be the hardest thing Lisa does.”

  “Did you have help?”

  He nodded. “Alice and Paul Henderson.”

  “I’ll be there for Lisa.”

  “We’ll be there for her.”

  Like a team. More and more she felt they were.

  “I’m glad Peter suggested we cut down one of the pines on his property to use as a tree this year. Until he married Laura, I didn’t do much at Christmas other than participate in some of the church functions.” Jacob led one of the horses across the snow-covered meadow.

  “So you don’t mind doing this?” Carrying the ax, Hannah checked around her to make sure the children were keeping up with them.

  “Mind? No. It’s a good reason to leave work a little early this afternoon.”

  “This from a man who works all the time!”

  “It was a little slow with the snow last night and this morning. Not too many people wanted to get out unless it was an emergency. I noticed the snow fort and snow figures out in front of the cottages. You all were busy today.”

  She laughed. “We had to do something with the kids home from school. I had a hard time keeping them away from the unfinished house.”

  “I imagine the kids are intrigued with it.”

  “You can say that again. I’m glad you don’t mind driving in this weather. I haven’t had much practice in snow.”

  At the edge of a grove of pines Jacob stopped and surveyed the prospective Christmas trees. “Okay, guys, which one do you want me to cut down?”

  Every child with Jacob and Hannah pointed at a different one. Nancy selected a pine that was at least fifteen feet tall.

  Hannah set her hands on the little girl’s shoulders. “I like your vision, but that one won’t fit into the living room.” Then to the whole group she added, “We need a tree that is about six or seven feet tall.”

  “How about this?” Susie pointed to one near her.

  “No, this is better.” Andy went to stand by a pine off to the side.

  While Terry started toward another, Hannah quickly said, “Hold it. Let’s take a vote on these three. They’re the only ones the right size.” She waved her hand toward Susie’s and two others.

  Andy spun toward his. “What’s wrong with mine?”

  “It needs to grow a few more years.” Jacob took the ax from Hannah and gave her the
reins of the horse.

  “Who wants Susie’s?” Hannah called out, the wind beginning to pick up.

  All the children raised their hands with Andy reluctantly the last one.

  “Well, let’s get the show on the road.” Jacob approached the chosen one and began to chop it down.

  The sound of the ax striking the wood echoed through the grove. The smell of snow hung in the air as clouds rolled in.

  Terry bent down and scooped up a handful of the white stuff and packed it into a ball, then lobbed it toward Susie. That was the beginning of a small war held at the edge of the grove.

  Hannah scurried toward Jacob to avoid being hit. “Do you want a break?”

  He glanced up at the sky. “Nope. Not much time. I think it’ll start snowing again soon. When that happens, I’d rather be back at the cottage sipping hot chocolate in front of the fireplace.”

  “We don’t have one.”

  He paused and stared at her with a look that went straight to her heart. “Then we’ll just have to use our imaginations. You do have hot chocolate?”

  “Of course, with eight children in the house that’s a necessity.”

  “We have marshmallows, too.” Nancy came up to stand next to Hannah while Jacob went back to work on the seven-foot tree.

  “Mmm. I love marshmallows. I guess I’d better hurry if I want a cup.”

  A snowball whizzed by Hannah’s head. She pivoted in the direction it came. Suddenly she noticed the quiet and the reason for it. All the children were lined up a few feet from her with ammunition in their hands.

  “Duck,” Hannah shouted, and pulled Nancy with her behind a tree.

  Jacob, in midswing, couldn’t react fast enough. A barrage of snowballs pelted him from all angles. When he turned toward the crowd of kids, he was covered in white from head to toe. He shook off some of the powder, gave the ax to Hannah, then patiently walked a couple of feet toward the children with a huge grin on his face. The kids stood like frozen statues, not sure what to do.

  Suddenly Jacob swooped down, made a ball and threw it before the first child could run. Another snowball ensued then several more after it. Kids scattered in all directions. Jacob shot to his feet and raced after the nearest boy, tackling Terry. As they playfully rolled on the ground, several boys joined them and it became a free-for-all.

  Hannah, with Nancy beside her, watched by their chosen tree. The sound of laughter resonated through the meadow with the girls cheering on the boys in their endeavor to overpower Jacob. Although outnumbered, the good doctor was having the time of his life if the expression of joy on his face was any clue. She knew he wanted a family. He should be a father.

  And you want a family. You want to be a mother. What are you doing about that?

  When a snowflake fell, followed by several more, Hannah peered up at the sky. Another hit her cheek and instantly melted. She put two fingers into her mouth and let out a loud, shrill whistle that immediately called a halt to the melee on the ground.

  “In case you don’t know, it’s snowing again. We need to cut down our tree and get back to the cottage. Playtime is over, boys.”

  Amidst a few grumbles Jacob pushed to his feet, drenched from his tumble in the snow. He shoved his wet hair out of his eyes and strode to the ax Hannah held out for him.

  In five minutes he yelled, “Timber,” and the tree toppled to the ground. “I always wanted to do that.”

  Having tied the horse’s reins to one of the branches of a nearby pine, Hannah moved toward it, calling to the children. “Help Dr. Jacob with our Christmas tree.”

  After quickly securing the pine with some rope, Jacob guided the horse toward the cottage with their tree gliding over the snow behind the animal. Snow came down faster as they reached the porch.

  “I’ll take the horse back to the barn,” Terry said when Jacob untied the pine.

  “Come right back. It’ll be getting dark soon.” Hannah helped Jacob drag the tree up the steps and placed it to the side of the front door. “Who’s up for hot chocolate?”

  Hands flew into the air.

  “While I’m fixing it, change out of those wet clothes then come into the kitchen.” Hannah opened the door and went into the house.

  Footsteps pounded down the hallway toward the various bedrooms.

  “That’ll give us a few minutes of quiet.” Hannah’s gaze moved down Jacob’s length. “I wish I had something for you to change into. Your jeans are soaking wet.”

  He started to remove his coat, but stopped. “I’ve got some sweats in my trunk. Can I use your bedroom to change in?”

  Her step faltered. “Sure,” she answered, trying not to imagine him in her room.

  As he jogged to his car, she waved her hand in front of her face and thought about turning down the heater. Memories of his kiss swamped her. She wanted him to kiss her again. Oh, my. She was in deep.

  As she prepared the hot chocolate and a plate of cookies under the disapproving eye of Meg, the children flooded the kitchen. They snatched a mug and one cookie then fled the room, nearly knocking Jacob down in their haste.

  “Whoa. What was that?” He entered as the last boy zipped past him.

  “Those cookies are gonna spoil their dinner,” Meg grumbled while she stirred a large pot on the stove.

  “Mmm. Is that your stew?” Jacob took the last mug sitting on the counter.

  Still frowning, Meg nodded.

  “Then you don’t have a worry. The kids love it. There won’t be a drop left at the end of the meal, especially if a wonderful cook invites a certain doctor to dinner.” Jacob winked at Hannah right before he took a sip of his drink.

  “Not my call.” The beginnings of a grin tempered Meg’s unyielding expression as she swung her gaze from Jacob to Hannah.

  He turned a pleading look on Hannah. “I worked up quite an appetite chopping down your tree.”

  She took a cookie off the plate. “Here. This ought to tide you over until you can eat.”

  His fingers grazed hers as he grasped the treat. “The important question is where will I be eating dinner?”

  “Meg, we might as well make a permanent place for Jacob at our table as often as he’s been here for dinner.” The image of him at one end of the table and her at the other darted through her mind. Like a family—with eight children! She should be fleeing from the kitchen as quickly as the kids did moments before. What was she doing thinking of them as a family?

  “I heartily agree. Meg’s cooking is much better than mine.”

  Meg barked a laugh. “You’re cooking is nonexistent.”

  “Not from lack of trying.”

  Meg swept around with one hand on her waist and a wooden spoon in the other. “When? You work way too hard. I’m glad to see you spending more time with the children.”

  “I think that’s our cue to leave the chef alone to create her masterpiece.” Jacob grabbed the last cookie, held the door for Hannah and accompanied her from the room with Meg muttering something about him eating everything on his plate or else.

  “She’s a treasure. You’d better not run her off,” Hannah said in mock sternness.

  “I want to know what ‘or else’ means.” He headed toward the sound of children talking in the living room.

  “You’re a brave soul if you dare to leave anything uneaten.”

  Jacob blocked her path into the room. “I enjoyed this afternoon. Thank you for inviting me. Other than the birth of Christ, the holidays have never held much appeal to me.”

  “I have to admit Christmas has never been my favorite time of year.” After Kevin died during December, she and her mother hadn’t done much in the way of enjoying themselves during the holidays. In fact, they had ignored it until they had become Christians.

  “Shh. Don’t let the kids hear you say that.”

  “That’s why we’ll be going all-out this Christmas here at the house and at church.”

  “I’d love to help you with your activities.” His gaze captured hers.r />
  Her pulse rate spiked. “I’m glad you volunteered. Next weekend we’re going to the nursing home to perform the Nativity scene. Roman can’t come because of a prior commitment, but we’re taking some of the animals to make the play more authentic and I could use an extra pair of hands beside Peter.”

  “How many animals?”

  “Two lambs for the shepherds. A couple of dogs. Maybe a rabbit or two.”

  “I don’t remember there being any dogs or rabbits in the manger.”

  “We thought we would dress up two of the big dogs as though they’re donkeys.”

  Jacob tossed back his head and laughed. “I’m sure they’ll love that. This production could be priceless.”

  “Hey, just for that, you can help with the rehearsals, too. Every night after dinner this week. We aren’t nearly ready.”

  He wiped tears from the corner of his eyes. “Definitely priceless.”

  “Be careful. That box has all the ornaments in it.” Hannah hurried over to help Susie carry the oversized one to the living room where Jacob and Terry were setting up the Christmas tree in its stand on Saturday afternoon.

  The scent of popcorn wafted through the large cottage. Meg came out of the kitchen with two big bowls of the snack. She placed both of them on the game table. “One is for stringing. The other for eating.”

  A couple of the kids dived into the one for consumption, in their haste causing some of the popped kernels to fall onto the floor. Abby pounced on it.

  Hannah scooped the puppy up and gave her to Nancy. “There’s enough for everyone.” Hannah moved the one for stringing over to the coffee table where some of the younger children sat. “Nancy, you might put Abby in the utility room until we’re done.”

  Meg settled on the couch behind the kids working with the popcorn to assist them while Hannah opened the box with strands of twinkling white lights.

  She pulled the tangled mess out and held it up, “What happened here?”

  “Peter. Last year he took them down and made a mess out of them.” Meg gave Nancy who had returned without Abby a needle with a long string attached.

  “Remind me not to accept his help this year with taking down the tree.” Hannah sat cross-legged on the floor and searched for one end of the strand. “How many are here?”