by Diane Noble
“Your husband is the one who authorized the transaction,” Georgia said. “Maybe he forgot to mention it.”
Kate felt the blood drain out of her face. “You’re sure there hasn’t been an error?”
Georgia gave her a worried smile. “I can show you his signature if you’d care to wait.”
Kate stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. “No, no. That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
With a heavy heart, she walked back outside to her car. For a moment, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Why would Paul withdraw so much money without telling her? The only reason she could think of was that they were in more serious financial trouble than he’d let on. Though he kept track of their accounts, she had a pretty good handle on their balances too.
And this withdrawal was shocking. Was he trying to protect her? And from what? Again, concerns about his health stabbed at her heart.
A few minutes later, she drove the Honda into the garage and parked. Paul looked up from where he was tinkering with something at his workbench. He gave her a big smile as she stepped out of the car.
“Did you get everything you needed?”
She shook her head numbly. “Not everything. I...I...I stopped by the bank to transfer the money to checking...” Her words faltered as she searched his eyes. “When I found out that there wasn’t as much as I thought, I decided against getting the gift for Melissa.”
He came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. Before she could say anything more, he placed his index finger over her lips.
“I’ll say it again. I need you to trust me, Kate.”
She reached for his hand and gently squeezed his fingers. “Of course I do.”
“In every regard.”
She let out a pent-up sigh as she studied the love in his gaze. Finally, she nodded. “All right. I’ll trust you to tell me what’s going on in good time.”
“In good time,” he repeated, then went to the back of the car to carry in her bags of groceries.
Chapter Six
Early the next morning, as soon as Kate had finished her morning devotions, she padded to Paul’s study and sat down in front of the computer. The parsonage didn’t have access to a high-speed connection, so researching anything on the Internet was painfully slow. Even so, she could check her e-mail, and she was eager to see if she’d heard anything more from Dr. Hosea.
She turned on the machine and waited patiently while the programs loaded. Finally, her e-mail program came up, and she clicked on her in-box, then the first post on her list. The subject line simply read: Photos?
“I am eagerly awaiting your photos of the urn,” Dr. Hosea wrote, “particularly close-ups. Please understand the importance of this.”
Kate wasn’t surprised by the urgent tone of the note. It somehow confirmed her own growing suspicions. She sent a reply that said she would send the photos as soon as she could, then she sat back to think about this response.
What if this urn was the real thing? What would that mean for Renee? How might it relate to Kate’s growing doubts about Collin?
After logging out of her e-mail account, she headed to the kitchen for a coffee refill and to plan for the busy day ahead. She wanted to make a batch of ginger cookies in circus-animal shapes for Mia. She wondered if she’d ever baked this many batches of cookies for anything other than a church potluck. No doubt, she loved to bake while puzzling a mystery, but this was different. Fixing meals for others, especially baking something special for those she loved, was a tangible way for her to demonstrate her affection.
She had just started to cream the butter and sugar when the phone rang. Flipping off the switch on her mixer, she grabbed for the phone and picked it up on the second ring.
It was Renee. “I just got another letter from Collin. And oh, my dear, I must read it to you.”
Without waiting for Kate to respond, she began to read:
“My darling Lady Renee,
How I miss you. Though it’s only been days, it feels like weeks since we last saw each other. I cannot believe how destiny brought us together. I wish I were a poet, but even then words could not convey the deep emotions that fill my heart...and my soul...”
Renee went on to read the rest of the letter, which grew increasingly flowery, yet with a British flavor.
“Lady Renee?” Kate couldn’t help asking at the end.
Renee chuckled. “A private joke.” Then her voice dropped. “I haven’t felt so, well, cherished for a very long time. A very long time.” Her words were dramatic, but her emotion was genuine.
What if Collin was out to hurt Renee? Kate didn’t want to go that far with her suspicions, so she quickly pushed the thought aside.
Paul came around the corner into the kitchen. He gave Kate a peck on the cheek, then poured his coffee and sat down at the table.
She said good-bye to Renee and sat down across from him.
She told Paul about the latest e-mail from Dr. Hosea and her need to run by the church and take pictures.
“I’ll go with you, if it will help.”
She gave him a soft smile. “I’d love nothing better.”
Keeping busy until the kids arrived was the best anti-worry antidote she could think of for them both.
That and prayer.
IT WAS LATE MORNING when Kate headed into the library to upload the photos of the urn from her camera onto the computer.
She had left Paul at Faith Briar to put the finishing touches on his sermon and promised she would meet him at home for lunch. Time was of the essence. She glanced at her watch. She had barely fifteen minutes to complete the upload and send the photographs to Dr. Hosea.
After a few minutes, the pictures of the urn began to appear on the computer, lined up, looking professional. She grinned. Phase one complete.
She glanced down at her watch. Nine minutes left before she had to leave to meet Paul. She wrote a quick message to Dr. Hosea, typed in his address, then began attaching the photos from the camera file.
One by one they attached themselves to the e-mail. She soon had a dozen in place, and the e-mail was obviously ready to make its way through cyberspace. She clicked Send.
She sat back in her chair, closed her eyes, breathed deeply, then opened her eyes again. She spent her last few minutes answering other e-mails, then reached for the mouse to log out of her e-mail account.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that a return e-mail had already landed in her in-box.
Dear Mrs. Hanlon,
After a cursory glance at the photos you sent, I am even more intrigued by the urn. The cracked and pitted surface shows patterns of aging particular to centuries-old alabaster. These are very difficult to duplicate, and costly, because most souvenir-grade copies are made of a resin-type material. I would like to examine the urn in person and perhaps run further tests to determine its authenticity. If my suspicions are correct, we may be dealing with an original artifact with a greater value than can be imagined.
Kate quickly reread the note to make sure she’d gotten it right.
An original artifact?
When she could breathe again, she noticed his postscript: “Please telephone my office as soon as you can.”
She made note of the phone number, then folded the paper and tucked it into her handbag.
She trotted down the stairs, waved at Livvy, then exited the library, heading for her car.
Once inside, she clutched the steering wheel, stunned at the turn of events.
An original artifact? The words played over and over in her mind.
She turned the key in the ignition, then sat back, nibbling at her bottom lip. As she backed out of her parking place, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Why hadn’t Dr. Hosea mentioned the faded inscription around the bottom?
With his expertise, he must be able to read it. One would think that would be of utmost importance. But then, he had written his response so quickly and urgently, he probably hadn’t h
ad time to give the photos a proper inspection.
KATE AND PAUL had just finished lunch when John and Melissa’s car pulled up to the parsonage. They hurried to the front door and flung it open even before the kids were out of the car.
Melissa ran into her mother’s open arms. John came up the walkway behind her, a sleepy-looking Mia in his arms. When Melissa pulled back, Kate could see her eyes were swollen and red. Kate noticed that they filled when she hugged her father.
Even though Mia was snuggling against her father’s shoulder, there was something about her that seemed different.
Gone were the rosy cheeks, the big smile that showed all her teeth, the squealing giggles she usually had the instant her grandma came into sight.
Instead, she just fixed her gaze first on Kate, then on Paul, with her big blue eyes, and then lay still. Her arms were thinner too, and her tiny face seemed pinched and thin.
Then it hit her, and Kate almost gasped.
Was something wrong with Mia? Was that why they’d come?
Chapter Seven
As they moved into the living room, Paul and Kate exchanged glances, and Paul reached for her hand. They had agreed beforehand to let John and Melissa take the lead, but Kate found it difficult to wait, now that they were here. Now that she suspected Mia was at the center of their concerns.
John stood slightly behind Melissa, attempting to smile, but his expression said something was terribly wrong. Mia was perched on his arm, and he had curled his other arm protectively around her.
“We need to put Mia down for a nap,” John said quietly. “She’s had a tiring day.”
Melissa stepped nearer to her husband and combed back strands of the toddler’s blonde hair with her fingertips. Mia looked up at her mother and gave her a wan smile. Kate loved that her granddaughter had inherited Paul’s vivid blue eyes that sparkled with life.
Melissa’s hair was much like Kate’s—strawberry blonde, though more reddish—and she wore it in a chin-length bob, which accentuated her heart-shaped face. She had always been petite, and now she seemed thinner than ever, her eyes reflecting some sort of inner sorrow.
Kate went over to stand beside them, and Paul did the same, circling his arm around Kate.
“Our little angel...,” Kate whispered and brushed the backs of her fingers against Mia’s soft cheek.
“We’ll get her settled,” John said. “And then we’ll tell you everything...about our little angel.”
Kate’s heart dropped. She glanced at Paul, whose face had turned ashen.
John and Melissa took the baby into Paul’s study where Paul had already set up a borrowed port-a-crib. When they returned to the living room, the couple sat close together on the sofa.
Paul settled into a chair, but Kate stood by the rocker. “Would either of you like a soft drink or some iced tea?”
After their long drive, she thought they might be thirsty. Besides, from the look of things, what the kids were about to tell them wouldn’t be easy. A cool drink might help them get through it.
“Sounds wonderful. Let me help you, Mom,” Melissa said.
She stood and accompanied her mother to the kitchen. An awkward silence fell between mother and daughter. Kate so desperately wanted to take Melissa in her arms and comfort her, but Melissa clearly wasn’t ready to talk.
After a few minutes, they returned with their drinks. Kate set a plate of cookies on the coffee table. John gave her a grateful smile, but he didn’t reach for one.
Paul was the first to speak. “We’ve been praying for you. Your mother and I both sensed that something must be terribly wrong or you would have told us on the phone.”
John glanced at Melissa. “Do you want me to start?”
She nodded, and he circled his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s about Mia,” he said. “About three months ago, we started noticing some changes in Mia. The first sign was her weight. She just didn’t seem to be gaining the weight she should for her age and height.”
“I remember you telling us about her weight,” Kate said to Melissa. “But you were a slender toddler too, so I attributed it to that.”
“That’s what we thought,” John said. “It wasn’t until a week ago that it was obvious something else was wrong.”
Kate exchanged a quick glance with her daughter. From her expression, Melissa obviously knew what she was thinking. “We didn’t want to worry you or Dad until we knew more,” she said gently. “This came on so fast, and our focus has been on Mia...and setting up her appointments with the specialist.”
Melissa glanced at John, who then went on. “The doctor had already been monitoring her weight, but when she began to have difficulty breathing last week, he started looking elsewhere for the cause. At first he thought it might be asthma.”
Melissa sat forward, her gaze intense. “It made sense that maybe the onset of asthma might cause her to lose interest in food. But her pediatrician wanted to run further tests, and we agreed.”
She blinked back fresh tears and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, a habit carried over from childhood. “Then a few days ago, after her nap, Mia tried to pull herself up to stand in her crib. I came into her room just as she toppled backward. At first I thought she’d stopped breathing, but when I picked her up...” Melissa started to cry quietly.
John took her hand and continued. “I was in the kitchen, and when Melissa called for me, I came running. I called 911, and the EMTs got there within minutes. By the time they did, Mia had opened her eyes and was smiling up at us and looking around as if to say, ‘What’s all the fuss about?’”
“The doctor immediately ran more tests, this time focusing on her heart,” Melissa said, her voice still trembling. She sipped her iced tea, then drew in a deep breath. “When the results came back, he recommended that we bring Mia to Tennessee to see a friend of his from med school.”
John had again wrapped his arm around Melissa’s shoulders. She looked up at him as if for strength, as he said, “He’s a pediatric specialist in congenital heart defects.”
Congenital heart defects? Kate felt the sting of tears at the back of her throat and reached for her iced tea as a distraction. She needed to be strong for Melissa and John. She heard Paul clear his throat, then he reached for his drink, a sure sign that he was in the middle of his own emotional battle.
“The specialist, Dr. Timothy Lucas, practices in Pine Ridge,” Melissa said. “As soon as we found that out, we decided there’s no place we’d rather be than here with you.”
John broke in. “He was born and raised in Pine Ridge, and after he finished his internship and residency, felt led to return to his hometown. He had his pick of university hospitals and big city medical centers to choose from, but he chose to come home and treat the babies and children who need him the most.”
“We think that says a lot about his character,” Melissa added.
Kate finally trusted her voice enough to speak. “What treatments are being considered? Did your pediatrician give you any indication?”
Melissa took a deep breath. “We won’t know, of course, until more tests are run, but it could be anything from medication to open-heart surgery.”
When Kate heard the word surgery, another sting at the top of her throat told her a flood of tears was on its way if she didn’t do something fast. She needed to be strong for her daughter and John, for them all. She blinked rapidly, sipped her tea again, and then reached for the plate of cookies, offering it around. This time John took one, and so did Paul, but Melissa shook her head.
John popped the cookie into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Then he said, “Dr. Lucas is considered to be an excellent doctor. He’s part of a team of specialists that often travel to medical schools here and in other countries to work with other pediatricians on new diagnostic techniques. From everything we’ve heard about him, we feel that he—and maybe others in his team—can give us the best advice and diagnosis for Mia. That is the great blessing
in all this. Our little daughter will be in good hands.”
Melissa gave her mom and dad a tremulous smile. “The other blessing is that we can be here with you, knowing you’ll hold us up in prayer, moment by moment.”
“We’re so glad you’ve come,” Paul said quietly. “You know you’re welcome anytime, but now especially, you need to know that our home is yours. And anything we can do to help, we’ll be available day or night.”
Melissa went over to give her dad a hug. Paul stood and drew his daughter into his arms. Kate did the same, wrapping her arms around them both.
“I feel better just being here with you,” Melissa whispered.
John was now standing beside her. He took her hand, his expression somber. “Dad, would you offer a prayer for Mia?”
Paul nodded. “Let’s go in and stand by her crib.”
John’s eyes glistened with tears. “Thank you.”
Moments later, the four adults circled the little port-a-crib, holding hands.
“Father,” Paul prayed, his voice a low whisper, “sometimes it is so hard to find the words to express the heaviness in our hearts—and even to know how to pray. But you know our hearts better than we do ourselves. And you know Mia’s needs right now. Cradle her in your arms, heavenly Father. Give her the tender care that only you can provide. And give us, her parents and grandparents, your peace that passes all understanding with the assurance that you are with all of us each step of the way.”
He paused, and everyone joined him to breathe a soft amen.
At the sound of their voices, Mia woke. She blinked at the faces looking down at her, rubbed her eyes, then sat up. When she saw Kate, she gave her a big smile and held out her arms to be picked up.
One glance at Melissa’s face told Kate Mia hadn’t slept as long as they’d hoped.
“Why don’t you try rocking her back to sleep,” she whispered to Kate.
As Kate drew her granddaughter into her arms, she held her close, never wanting to let go.