More Than Words: Stories of Hope

by Diana Palmer; Kasey Michaels; Catherine Mann

The little fella pivoted in her lap and launched himself at his dad with obvious affection. This time, however, he squirmed down to walk, holding his dad’s hand.

  Anna eased herself up from the swing. “What’s the verdict?”

  “Since we made it out of here before closing, you got off with a simple ticket, but no jail time.”

  “I guess that will have to do, but I was hoping we could squeeze in some news coverage.”

  A tight smile crooked his perfectly sculpted mouth as he mimicked her voice. “Why, thank you, Forest, for keeping me from paying an expensive fine. And heaven forbid I might have actually had to go to jail and eat their fine cuisine. It’s great to see you again.”

  She slumped back in the swing. He had gone to a lot of trouble for her and she was being ungrateful. “Thank you for your time and help. It’s, uh, good to see you, too.”

  Even if it had cost her the short stint in jail and a much-coveted feature in the weekly local newspaper.

  Forest shrugged through the kink in his neck and picked up the pace as he made his way back to his truck in the now-dark park, carefully leading his son around trees and over jutting roots.

  Anna had seriously snagged his attention in high school, even if she was more than a little quirky. And yeah, spunky. He’d admired those qualities, even though he’d craved normalcy after a lifetime spent with parents who hip-hopped from one outrageous commune to another. But she sure was pretty and he knew her beauty owed nothing to the pricey spa treatments his ex craved.

  His newest client wore her corn-silk blond hair in a single thick braid down her back. Her hair had a bit of spring to it in the curl at the end of the braid and the stray wisps teasing cheeks pink from the cool lake breeze.

  Her fresh-scrubbed face glowed with health, even the freckles dotting her nose. The flowing green dress she wore, with its sunflower pattern, and her cheery yellow sweater brightened the drab overcast evening.

  But despite her uncomplicated beauty, understanding Anna required more study than the bar exam. Forest had given up second-guessing her when she’d staged a protest outside his high-school baseball game. She and a group of her friends had handcuffed themselves to bike racks in a protest against budget cuts that cost the chorus teacher his job, while leaving the sports budget intact.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  She strolled past him to the bicycle stand. “I rode my mountain bike.”

  Anna worked the lock that secured her bike to the metal rack while Officer Smitty fired up his cruiser over by the curb. Forest sighed at the inevitable.

  “Let me give you a ride. We can store your bike in the back of my truck.”

  Still she didn’t face him, just stowed her lock and wheeled her bike backward. Was that a yes or no?

  He couldn’t let her pedal off in the dark. Even in this sleepy little town, with Officer Smitty readying to cruise the streets, it wasn’t all that safe for an attractive woman to be out alone on the backwoods roads that ran along the lake. Shoot, he was here in the first place to watch over her because of the debt he owed Judge Bonneau for mentoring him during the year his parents spent in Oscoda—their longest stint anywhere in his entire life.

  The cop rolled down his car window and nodded to Forest. “Good evening, Counselor. Quite a change from your regular stuff, with, uh—”

  “Insurance litigation.” Forest smiled tightly as the wind wafted the scent of vanilla. He was mighty sure that didn’t come from Smitty or Joey. “Every client’s important.”

  Anna waved to the cop. “Hi, Officer Smitty. Hope to see you at the recycling drive this coming weekend. Make it a family day. There’ll be treats for the kids.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’m always looking for things to occupy the girls on my weekend with them.” He nodded sympathetically to Forest, another single father.

  Anna pulled a flyer from her oversize backpack and passed it to the cop. “Always happy to help out. About my handcuffs—”

  Smitty had begun to roll his window up again. “Oh, right. Here ya go.”

  Forest waited while Anna chatted with Smitty about his kids. Joey ran circles around him, trailing his hand around his father’s knees as he wore himself out. Anna flung her braid over her shoulder, her face animated and her eyes sparkling as she spoke to the police officer.

  Beautiful eyes.

  Forest almost dropped the tote bag full of toys.

  Maybe he should start dating again. He’d been celibate since his divorce three years ago, but he didn’t trust his judgment in women. He and Paula had seemed a perfect match with shared dreams, but it hadn’t worked. He definitely wasn’t ready for a relationship, especially not with a woman who was trouble incarnate.

  Besides, his son needed him as he grew up without the love and care of a mother to help him through the tough times ahead.

  Forest snagged Anna’s helmet from her handlebars to impede any thoughts of escape. Her tantalizing vanilla fragrance teased his nose. “Anna, can we speed this along? I need to get Joey fed and tucked into bed.”

  He could almost feel the wind whipping over him. Countless summers, he’d tooled around the country in his parents’ motorcycle sidecar. Other children, kids blessed with family trips in the comfort of a station wagon, had giggled and pointed. Forest’s grip tightened on the helmet buckle.

  He would take her home to her little cottage on the water and then his debt to the judge would be canceled.

  So why did that vanilla scent seem to taunt him, making him believe that Anna was back in his life for a reason?

  Anna knew when to fight and when to surrender with grace.

  Insisting on biking home in the dark would sound petty. And while she considered herself independent, that didn’t give her the right to be rude. Inside the extended-cab truck, she reached into the backseat to stroke Joey’s chocolate-brown curls and savor the feeling of peace that stole over her as the child tipped his face into the chilly night breeze drifting through the open windows.

  Forest leaned toward her as Anna grappled with her own seat belt. Her arm brushed his chest.

  “Uh, Anna—”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with this seat belt.” She wrestled with the buckle. “I can’t seem to get it clicked.”

  Forest shifted in his seat. “Do you, uh, need some help?”

  Heavens, she hoped not. She straightened, her palm extended. “Gummi Worm!”

  “What?”

  “There was a Gummi Worm stuck in it.”

  “Joey’s snack. A token of single fatherhood. Bribes.” He passed the half-full bag of Gummies to Joey. “Here ya go, son.”

  “Well, I didn’t think it was yours.” She flicked the biodegradable candy out the window. “Actually, I’m starving. I ran out of snacks around three.”

  She’d sneaked off for bathroom breaks when the place looked deserted, but there weren’t any vending machines, and going into a restaurant to grab a hamburger seemed like cheating.

  Oaks and pines whizzed past as they drove along the deserted roads. Forest was quiet, and so was Joey, happy with his treat. But Anna was still geared up.

  Five minutes passed before she finally exploded, “They want to build a—” she glanced back at Joey then over at Forest “—S-T-R-I-P club there. Oh sure, they’re calling it a ‘gentleman’s club,’ but we all know what that really means. It’s bad enough to have an establishment like that in our town, but especially awful right next to the library.” She shook her head. “I can’t stand silently by.”

  “I’m frustrated, too, Anna, but it sounds like a done deal.” The dashboard light illuminated his strong square jaw.

  “It’s not over until they roll in the bulldozers. I couldn’t stay quiet while there’s time to make a difference.”

  “I hear you and I understand. But there are better ways.” Forest turned into Anna’s driveway, gravel crunching as he drove toward the brick cottage she’d rented last week.

  Headlights swept across the dormant gard
en and highlighted the man rocking on the front porch. Judge Edward Bonneau sat bathed in the hazy glow. Her father.

  No doubt he’d received his courtesy call from the police station on how things had shaken down. Politics and protocol were more than a little loose in small-town Oscoda. Of course. Why else would Forest have shown up in the first place?

  Could the night get any worse?

  Anna eased her achy body out of the vehicle, stiff from sitting so long. She really could have benefited from a bike ride home. Her father pushed to his feet, short and wiry, but imposing nonetheless. The porch light cast a friendly glow over the paver stones she’d crafted with inset marbles. She’d carted those hefty steppers from home to home—treasures she’d made with her mother as a child.

  Her father snapped his suspenders over his seersucker pajama top. “Sugar, you’ve come to the end of the line. I hear my old rival Judge Randall’s gonna crack down next time you get a ticket, and throw the book at you. We’re talking serious jail time, daughter dear.”

  Sugar? Daughter dear? She was twenty-five years old, for Pete’s sake. Why couldn’t they communicate as adults?

  Uh, wait. Her feet stalled. Serious jail time? She was cool with being booked for a few hours or even a night, as had happened in the past. But nothing more, especially if it interfered with her new job. “I’ll be working at the library before he can make a big stink.”

  Her father ambled down three of the five steps, stopping eye level with Forest. “Well, boy, what’s your plan?”

  “Pop, calm down.” She breezed over and kissed his leathery cheek. She missed the simpler days of their attempted picnics and homework review. “Forest will take care of everything. You can go home.”

  “Not a chance. I need to hear his plan of action.”

  Of course he would. She knew this battle wasn’t worth fighting. Her father showed his love through trying to micromanage her life. She’d learned to basically keep her silence and go her own way.

  She might as well play with Joey, who was squirming to get out of his booster seat. Anna turned to the two men on the porch.

  The sooner Forest could talk to her dad, the sooner both men would head home. “Fine. I’ll just let Joey out to play.”

  “Anna,” Forest called out. “About Joey—”

  She waved over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I may not be a parent, but I can handle one little boy.”

  The dome light illuminated Joey’s frustration as he strained against the confines of his booster seat. He continued to thrash until his precious little sunglasses flew off to one side—

  Revealing wide, unseeing blue eyes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Forest?” She turned to look at him for affirmation of what she couldn’t deny but didn’t want to voice out loud in case she upset the child.

  Little Joey was blind. Only now did she see the white stick at his feet on the floorboard. Forest had been carrying him earlier or holding his hand. She thought of all his sentences, which she’d interrupted, and now—

  Forest simply nodded his head, his expression fiercely protective. Of course. Any normal parent would be, because she’d learned long ago that people could be cruelly imperceptive at times.

  Her heart ached for the little guy and the extra challenges he would face. As if life wasn’t already tough enough. But she refused to make Joey feel self-conscious. He was an active young boy, just like the students she’d worked with in her reading groups—special needs or not—during her previous library position.

  The minute they cleared up things with her father, she would go online to the Seedlings Braille Books for Children Web site to place her order for some preschool books with Braille added.

  “Hi, Joey. It’s Miss Anna.” She announced herself so he wouldn’t be surprised. “I’ll let you out now so you can play while we talk. If you’re hungry, how about graham crackers?”

  “I’m full of Gummies now. I just wanna play.”

  “Fair enough, big guy.”

  She unstrapped him and helped him out of the seat, then slipped her hand into his. She leaned into the truck for his white cane and passed it to him. In her work at the library, she’d learned that small children needed a cane that reached shoulder level rather than sternum level. The smaller canes caused too many injuries if a child stumbled forward. At four, Joey would still be acclimating to the cane, so she called out potential hazards and kept hold of his hand.

  “Big tree root ahead,” she announced, lifting him over it with a squeal of “Whee!”

  His giggle swept away all the frustrations of a long day. She glanced up to the porch. The gratitude on Forest’s face stirred an entirely different sort of excitement in her.

  Swallowing hard, she returned her attention to Joey. She needed to think of something to keep him occupied in this unfamiliar environment while the adults spoke. Her eyes lit on the wheelbarrow. “Would you like a ride in my magic wagon?”

  “Magic?” His face tipped up to hers, his sightless gaze slightly left of her.

  “Magic and super speedy.” Most little boys enjoyed fast-moving toys, and bottom line, he was like any other child.

  She slid her hands under his armpits, plopped him in the wheelbarrow and started steering him along the bumpy yard. He clutched the sides and squealed, apparently content with the magic chariot for the moment at least.

  Her father made his way down the steps of her two-bedroom cottage so they could converse while she jostled around the yard with Joey.

  “Anna,” Pop said, “word around the courthouse has it Judge Randall wants to get back at me for all the years I beat him out for a position on the bench. We all know he’s a vindictive old cuss. You’re playing right into his hands with your protesting.” His expression of concern mirrored Forest’s for his child a few minutes earlier. “I’m worried about you.”

  That small show of affection from her father almost crumbled her defenses. Almost. But she’d stopped looking for his approval long ago. They just didn’t connect. “Pop, I’m an adult. What I do doesn’t reflect on you. Disown me. I officially absolve you of responsibility.”

  Gasping for breath, she turned and jabbed her finger toward Forest, quickly grabbing the wheelbarrow handle again. “And you—there won’t be any need for you to defend me, because I will simply lie low as Dad suggests.”

  Her father fished out a handkerchief from his pocket. “Now, sugar, don’t get all fired up. You look just like your mama when you do that. You’re gonna make me get all maudlin, and that’s not good for the old ticker.”

  Sometimes, Anna thought, listening to her father, it was hard to believe he was a respected judge. She steered a cheering Joey toward her father. “Pop, you have the heart of a sixteen-year-old.”

  “Please, Anna.” He raked a hand through his rusty-red hair. “Listen and pretend to care about my opinion.”

  Anna reminded herself that her father didn’t pay her bills, hadn’t since she’d graduated from high school and landed her first scholarship. So why should she care about his opinion?

  Because he was still her father and she was a natural-born caregiver. She sighed. “Five minutes, tops.”

  “Five it is then. Come on over here and have a seat, you two. Pass that little fella to me.”

  A possessive feeling stirred within her. “I’ve got Joey.”

  “Joey,” her father called. “Wanna come sit with me?”

  “Papa Bonneau! You have any candy?” The boy turned his head, a huge smile creasing his precious chubby cheeks.

  He scrambled out of the wheelbarrow, but Anna caught him a split second before he hit the ground. She took his hand and led him to her father, which was apparently where he wanted to be.

  Her father scooped up the little guy and pulled out a roll of Lifesavers. “Forest?”

  Anna wilted onto the porch swing. “We might as well hear Pop out,” she said to Forest. “He’ll only track us down later.”

  “Fine.” Forest scrubbed a hand over hi
s face, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

  He climbed the steps slowly, like a man marching toward the gallows. His eyes narrowed as he joined Anna on the swing, the only seat left on the porch. Had the swing shrunk with the last rain?

  She breathed in the calming, earthy scents from the vegetable garden. “Okay, Pop. I’m listening.”

  Her father thumbed another piece of candy for Joey, tapping his shoes as he rocked. “You’ve done well for Anna today, Forest. I always knew you’d make a levelheaded attorney. But daughter dear, I’m afraid even Forest can’t save your hide if you land in Randall’s court.”

  Anna drummed her fingers along the armrest and studied a water bug scuttling across the planked porch. Forest shifted, crossing his long legs at the ankles as he set the swing into motion. How much had he grown since high school?

  “I appreciate your, uh, concern, Pop, but I’m not giving up my protests for anyone.” She’d seen in college how effective a simple sit-in could be to protest a book banning at the library. “If Judge Randall wants to turn tough next time, I’ll be the one stuck with the consequences.”

  Her father shot a pleading look at Forest. “Got any thoughts on this in your bag of summation tricks?”

  Forest hooked his arm along the back of the porch swing and faced Anna. “Do you realize how lucky you are to have grown up in a town like this? An established good name isn’t something to throw away.”

  She hesitated. Of course she had considered that aspect, not that she would acknowledge it to the pair of controlling males on her porch. The answer flowered in her mind like the blossoming buds on her tomato plants in season.

  “You’re both right.”

  Their slack jaws could have trapped a healthy supply of flies.

  She continued while she had them off balance. “I know the best way to keep me out of Judge Randall’s radar. Poor Forest is in a real pickle with no nanny. How can he work with his son underfoot all day?”

  Forest stared at her with a deep intensity until she couldn’t resist the gravitational pull. He had such beautiful eyes, baby blues, now filled with a concern that caressed her like a refreshing spring shower.