All Roads Lead Home

by Christine Johnson

Gabe chuckled. “Luke asks every day when his will start to grow. They’re good friends, you see. I have to give Peter credit for letting a ten-year-old hang around him so much.”

  Mariah’s heart ached at Gabe’s words. Two years ago Mariah had facilitated the placement of five Society orphans in Pearlman. Peter and Luke had been the last chosen and had apparently formed a deep bond from that day forward. Normally that would be good, but it would also make any separation that much harder. She sucked in a shuddering breath.

  Gabe’s brow creased. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here. Mom is coming in two weeks. You could have joined her if you wanted to be here when the baby’s born.” He drew a sharp breath. “It’s business, isn’t it? I didn’t think the Society sent agents on follow-up anymore, especially when the reports are all good.”

  She swallowed hard. “It is Society business, in a way.” But she couldn’t say more because one Pearlman matron after another stopped to greet her. This was not the place to tell him the bad news. When she had a moment’s break from the greetings, she asked if they might talk in private.

  He nodded. “Let’s go to the church. Florabelle will be gone by now.”

  Mariah was relieved to hear that. The church secretary was notorious for her gossiping, and this was the sort of news that Florabelle would love to spread.

  Gabe extended an arm, always the gentleman, but she preferred to walk on her own. He set an easy pace. They were of a similar middling height, their strides equal. It wasn’t like walking with Hendrick. He’d always had to slow down to match her shorter stride.

  After a dozen more greetings, they were alone again on the sidewalk. Gabe buried his hands in his pockets, brow furrowed, looking very much like a little boy. She wished she could reassure him, but her news would only bring more worry.

  “Lovely day,” she said to break the tension.

  He mumbled a reply but didn’t look up until they reached the church, its solid oaken door darkened from all the hands that had touched it through the years. She reached for the handle, but Gabe stopped her hand.

  “Is this about Luke?” he whispered.

  She couldn’t answer. Not yet. “Let’s go inside.”

  He nodded and pulled open the door. “Whatever it is, God will see us through.”

  She wished she had that much confidence. Until now, she thought she’d placed total reliance on the Lord, but this news had shaken her. It would devastate Gabe.

  Once they’d settled into their respective chairs, Gabe behind his desk and Mariah taking the seat opposite him, he waited expectantly, hands clenched, as if clinging to his new family.

  Mariah blinked back tears and tried to dislodge the lump in her throat. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt her beloved little brother. She’d always looked after him, mothered him. Then two years ago, he came to Pearlman for his first pastoral appointment and fell in love with Felicity. Their romance had been rocky, for she barely gave him the time of day at first, but Felicity had a tender soul, and Gabe was one of the few people who saw it.

  Shortly after, Mariah arrived to arrange the placement of five orphans into foster homes. All had been snapped up except Luke, whose darker coloring challenged deeply rooted prejudice. Gabe took in the traumatized little boy, and Mariah raised him for three months until Gabe and Felicity married. In that time she lost her heart to the little boy, and that’s what made this news so difficult to bear.

  She squeezed her hands together to stop the shaking and took a deep breath. “There’s a little problem concerning Luke.”

  Gabe frowned. “We haven’t gotten far in the adoption process. I thought that was due to the paperwork and investigations. Have you heard something else?” He leaned forward. “I’ll do anything to make Luke my legal son.”

  “It’s not about the adoption.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She fought the bile rising in her throat. How she wished she didn’t have to tell him this, but there was no way around it. “Luke’s father has returned.” The words fell between them like stones. “He wants Luke back.”

  All the life went out of Gabe. “His father?”

  She tried to temper the pain. “Perhaps I should say that a man who claims to be Luke’s father wants him back.”

  “Claims?” Gabe pressed his hands against the top of the desk. “Is he Luke’s father or not?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out, and that’s why I have to go to Montana.”

  “Montana? What on earth does Montana have to do with this?”

  “The man who says he’s Luke’s father lives in Montana.”

  Gabe paused, processing what she was trying to tell him. “Why do you think he isn’t who he says he is?”

  She traced the wood grain of the chair’s arm with her fingernail. “His name doesn’t quite match the records. The old Detroit office listed the father as Francesco Guillardo. The man says he’s Frank Gillard. He claims he anglicized his name.”

  He sat back heavily. “People do change their names to avoid prejudice. Remember how Luke was received when people heard his full name was Luciano?”

  She nodded. How could she forget the gasps of shock, the slurs against the boy’s dark skin?

  Gabe’s long sigh weighed heavily on the hot summer air. “Where in Montana?”

  “The western part. A town called Brunley.”

  He stared off into space. “So far.”

  Mariah ached for him, for Felicity and even for herself. During those three months she’d stayed with Luke, she’d spent every moment of the day with him, had heard his first words, had wiped his tears after the nightmares. Luke was the closest she would ever get to having a son. “I won’t let Frank Gillard take him.”

  “Mariah! That’s kidnapping.”

  “Is that any worse than abandoning a child?” She stood, too agitated to sit. “That’s what Luke’s father did two-and-a-half years ago. And whatever happened before they got to the asylum made Luke so afraid of his father that he stopped talking. I’m not about to let that man touch him.”

  Gabe frowned. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t come to the same conclusion.”

  “That he was abandoned, yes. That’s on the record, but you don’t know what made Luke stop talking.”

  She held his gaze. “Did Luke ever tell you anything about that time?”

  Gabe shook his head. “He got so upset any time I tried to talk about his parents that I stopped trying. I figured he’d be ours soon, and it wouldn’t matter.”

  “Do we dare ask him again?”

  He shook his head. “He can’t know a thing. Promise me you won’t say a word.”

  “If you promise to fight.” She felt the hot tears rise. “We’ll find a way to keep Luke here. We have to.”

  He stared into space a long time, thinking. At last he hit on something. “Didn’t Frank Gillard sign away his parental rights when he left Luke at the orphanage? That is the usual procedure.”

  Mariah squirmed under the horrible truth. “The termination-of-rights paperwork wasn’t done correctly. The agent must have mixed up Luke’s paperwork with someone else’s because the signature doesn’t match the name. Instead of Francesco Guillardo or even Frank Gillard, it’s signed Desmond Corliss.”

  “What?” Gabe shook his head in bewilderment. “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. Mistakes seldom happened, and, when they did, they hadn’t mattered. Until now.

  He strode back to the desk. “Show it to me.”

  She drew the papers from her handbag and laid them on the desk. He pulled them close and sat down, jaw taut as he scanned the pages.

  After agonizing minutes, he raised hopeless eyes to her. “You’re right.”

  She couldn’t stand to see his despair. “I’m going to do everything in my power to stop him. Everything.”

  “How?” His voice sounded hollow. Defeated. “We have no proof o
f wrongdoing other than a child’s refusal to talk. That could mean anything, and in a court’s eyes, it’s useless. You know as well as I that the birth parents have every right to reclaim their children, as long as they haven’t signed that right away. We have no way to stop this man from taking Luke.”

  She couldn’t allow it. She wasn’t going to let Gabe or Luke down. “I’m going to Montana, and I’ll get Mr. Gillard to sign new termination-of-rights papers.” She pressed her hand over his. “I promise you I will not rest until Luke is safe.”

  Gabe slowly shook his head. “I don’t see how you can convince a man who has already asked for his son to sign away his parental rights. I wouldn’t sign them if I were in his shoes.”

  “That’s you. You’re a good, loving father. You would never have abandoned Luke in the first place. Frank Gillard is another matter. Something’s not right about this, Gabe, and I intend to find out what it is. Come with me. Together we can find a way to save Luke.”

  He sank back in his chair. “I can’t go to Montana. Felicity—” He rubbed his eyes to hide the tears, but he couldn’t hide the quiver in his voice. “She doesn’t want anyone to know, but the pregnancy has been difficult. She started bleeding last week. It stopped, but—”

  Mariah gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth.

  Gabe stared off into space. “Doc Stevens wants her to carry the baby as long as possible. I’m supposed to ensure that nothing upsets her. Hearing this would be the worst thing for her and the baby. If I left with you, she’d know something was afoot.” He turned worried eyes on her. “Promise you won’t say a word.”

  Mariah nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Did you plan to take Luke with you?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not.” She gripped her brother’s hand. “It’ll turn out all right, Gabe. I promise.”

  He smiled weakly. “First you have to get to Montana. The trains aren’t running right now, but you’re welcome to stay until they are.”

  She didn’t have the luxury of waiting. “I’m driving my car.”

  “Your car?” he said incredulously. “The one that’s broken down?”

  She nodded.

  “By yourself? That must be two thousand miles. You can’t drive that far alone.”

  She would not be dissuaded. “I will do whatever it takes to stop that man from uprooting Luke.”

  Gabe shook his head, signaling he knew when he was defeated—and when his goal matched hers. “I don’t know how you’re going to manage.”

  “With God’s help.”

  He let one corner of his mouth lift, just for an instant. “Promise me you’ll take someone with you, preferably a mechanic.”

  She knew exactly whom he had in mind. “Gabriel John, you know full well that I can’t travel two thousand miles with a man who’s not a relative. I will drive to Montana myself.” She whisked the papers into her bag and left his office.

  He followed on her heels. “Then take a woman along, but don’t go alone.”

  Her hand stilled on the door handle. A woman might be acceptable. “I’d love to bring a female mechanic. Whom do you suggest?”

  He didn’t answer, of course. He had no more idea than she did.

  “Just what I thought.” She yanked open the door and stepped into none other than Hendrick Simmons.

  With a gasp, she jerked backward, losing her balance. Hendrick steadied her with a hand to her shoulder, and the touch sent electricity zinging to her toes. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. The time apart was supposed to erase those crazy feelings.

  He quickly pulled his hand away, and she retreated a step to recover her senses.

  “Miss Meeks,” he said dryly, the tone telling her he was just as unhappy to see her.

  She swallowed hard, but the pain wouldn’t go away. “What are you doing here?”

  He lifted her valise. “Bringing your luggage.” But instead of handing it to her, he set it down while his gaze drifted to her face.

  She gulped when his warm brown eyes met hers. Why did he still affect her so? His commanding height took her breath away. The sculpted features and strong jaw made her heart flutter. His brown hair curled just a bit at the temple, and she had to resist raising a hand to brush that one stray lock off his brow.

  “Hendrick.” Gabe ducked around her. “It’s good to see you.”

  Hendrick ripped his gaze away from her. “You, too, Pastor.” He pointed to the valise. “Well, I’ve delivered your sister’s bag, so I’ll be going.”

  Mariah couldn’t help noticing that Hendrick’s speech was more polished and that he’d worn his Sunday-best shirt and trousers. Odd. Peter said he’d been working on Jack Hunter’s aeroplane engines.

  Gabe cornered Hendrick on the edge of the church steps. Though her brother couldn’t drape an arm around the taller man’s shoulders, he didn’t hesitate to leverage Hendrick by the elbow. “I’ve got a project I’d like to discuss with you. Why don’t you come to supper at the parsonage tonight?” He briefly glanced her way. “Bring your sister along.”

  “Gabe,” Mariah warned. She knew exactly what he was up to, and it was not going to work. Under no circumstances would she drive to Montana with Hendrick Simmons.

  “I, um.” Hendrick looked from Gabe to her with obvious discomfort. “Supper?”

  “And your mother, too. Bring everyone,” Gabe added a bit too cheerfully.

  The whole Simmons clan? What was her brother up to? He couldn’t suggest that Hendrick travel to Montana with her in front of his mother and sister—not to mention Felicity. There’d be too many questions. But to all appearances, that was exactly what he planned to do. Mariah folded her arms and tapped her foot. She couldn’t be any clearer that this was a bad idea, but Hendrick actually looked like he was considering the invitation. She had to put a stop to this crazy idea right now.

  “I don’t think Mr. Simmons would care to dine with us tonight,” she stated. There, she’d given him a way out. Alas, her effort produced the opposite effect.

  With a look of defiance, Hendrick turned to Gabe. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Two

  What had he been thinking? Hendrick sure didn’t want to spend the evening with Mariah, but she’d goaded him into accepting the pastor’s invitation when she said he wouldn’t want to come. No one told Hendrick Simmons what he did or didn’t want.

  Her jaw had dropped, and that made him feel good for a moment, but then she’d clapped her mouth shut and shot a glare at her brother. She did not want to see him, even for a couple of hours. The realization hurt as much as it had a year and a half ago.

  Still, even though he knew it would only hurt more, he couldn’t stop looking at her. That wild mossy scent hung about her, not exactly perfume, just entirely her. The curly dark hair, the way her hazel eyes turned greenish in the sunlight and the determined tilt of her chin still turned him inside out. He couldn’t look away.

  “Everything’s settled, then,” said Pastor Gabriel. “I’d better get home to tell Felicity we’re having guests, or there’ll be trouble.”

  Mariah didn’t say a thing, but judging by the set of her mouth, she wasn’t pleased.

  Gabriel pointed to Mariah’s valise. “That your bag, sis? I’ll take it so you can stay to chat with Hendrick.”

  “Why on earth would we need to chat?”

  Pastor Gabriel picked up her bag. “Oh, something about your broken car.”

  She wrestled the valise from her brother. “I can carry my own luggage.” She added a glare at Hendrick, as if he somehow had finagled this invitation. “How long will it take to fix my car? I have important business that can’t be delayed.”

  “Me, too,” Hendrick countered with equal vigor. “It’s not like I don’t have important things to do.” Like a future with Curtiss Aeroplane.

  A flicker of worry crossed her face, and her voice softened. “But you can fix it? I—I don’t have much time.”

  The hint of vulnerability almost made him fe
el bad for her. Almost. But any sympathy passed the moment she offered to pay extra for speedy repairs.

  She had to bring up money. She knew he could never compete with her there. The Meekses were wealthy New Yorkers at the top of society. They hobnobbed with Astors and Vanderbilts. They attended the opera and ballet. He could afford only one good suit and shirt, a shirt that needed pressing if he was to look respectable tonight.

  “I won’t charge one dime more than I’d charge anyone else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for dinner.” He tipped his cap and retreated down the church steps. His sole consolation was the glint of terror that crossed her face when he mentioned supper. At least this meal was going to be as painful for her as it would be for him.

  Mariah was going to kill Gabe.

  She sat on the bed in one of the parsonage’s guestrooms and yanked a comb through her knotted hair, trying to get it into a semblance of order. The dust and wind on the drive had left it a mess, and there was no time to wash it. She’d changed her gown, but the hair would have to do.

  Why she should care was beyond her. Hendrick Simmons shouldn’t mean anything to her anymore, but the man still somehow sent her calm, stable world spinning out of control. Even though he despised her.

  To be honest, she deserved it after the way she’d treated him. She owed him more of an explanation, and she’d give it, but not at dinner. Above all, she couldn’t upset Felicity. Gabe had made that clear.

  So why had he invited the Simmons family? The stress of hosting a dinner party couldn’t help Felicity’s nerves, but when Mariah insisted on cooking, Felicity had coyly informed her that Gabe had hired a housekeeper. Mariah never thought she’d see the day when her brother hired help. For years, he’d decried their family’s social status and insisted on living without the trappings of wealth. That’s why he’d accepted the pastorate in small town Pearlman. Hiring help must have wounded his pride. Thankfully Felicity had talked some sense into him.

  “Luke’s home,” Felicity called up the stairs.

  Mariah smoothed her wrinkled skirt, though the boy wouldn’t care one bit what she looked like. Little Luke had spent the day with the Highbottoms, who had a farm and five very energetic children, including one of the orphans Mariah had brought here. After all that running around, he’d be tired and cranky.