by Irene Hannon
Adam sighed. “I guess it helps to have a teaching background. You’re probably used to dealing with kids. I never had much…”
“I told you it was for you.”
They glanced toward Nicole, who was back in the archway.
“Did you take a message?”
She walked toward Adam and thrust a slip of paper at him. Then she turned to Clare. “So will you be here for a while?”
“At least for a few days.”
“Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“That would be nice.”
“Yeah.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well. See ya around.”
Clare watched Nicole walk away, then looked back toward Adam. He was frowning at the paper in his hand.
“Trouble?” she asked.
He glanced up. “One of my patients. I need to get back to him.” He took a deep breath. “You said you planned to be here for a few days?”
Actually, she planned to stay for six months. But she simply nodded in reply.
“Let me sleep on this whole nanny thing, okay? Can I get back to you on Monday?”
“Of course.”
“How can I reach you?”
“I’m staying at the Evergreen Motel.” She rummaged around in her purse and handed him a card. “You can just call me there.”
Adam had driven by the Evergreen Motel many times. It was a nondescript one-story building that had obviously seen better days, on the other side of town. Somehow it didn’t fit with this woman’s designer clothes and Gucci purse. Nor with the woman herself. Whatever her financial situation now, everything about her spelled class. She was the type who belonged at the Ritz, not the Evergreen.
As he walked Clare to the door and they said their goodbyes, he glanced toward the street. Her car—a modest, older-model compact—was yet another confirmation that she’d fallen on tough times. But why? She didn’t strike him as the frivolous type. Was her late husband to blame for her current predicament? he wondered, as she made her way toward the street. If so, he had done a great disservice to his wife. Even after only a brief encounter, he sensed that Clare was a kind, intelligent, empathetic woman, who deserved far more than she currently seemed to have. The thought of her at the Evergreen Motel actually made him feel a bit sick.
Clare reached the car and paused to shift her purse higher on her shoulder, then shaded her eyes with one hand and gazed at the distant mountains. He found himself admiring the natural grace of her movements, as well as her quiet dignity. And he wondered what she was thinking as she looked toward the mist-shrouded peaks.
When she glanced back toward the house, she seemed surprised to find him still standing at the door. And for a moment, he had a sudden, compelling urge to call her back, to offer her a place to stay. Which was very out of character. Because he was not an impulsive guy. And she was a stranger. A moment later, the fleeting impulse disappeared when she slid into the driver’s seat.
Adam waited until the car was out of sight, then slowly shut the front door. Even though he’d told Clare he wanted to think about her proposal, he was already pretty sure that he would accept. Because he desperately needed help with Nicole.
And in his heart he had a feeling that Clare was the answer to his prayer.
The water stain on the ceiling in her cramped motel room was the first thing Clare saw when she opened her eyes the next morning, and she quickly averted her gaze. She didn’t need luxury, but neither was she used to these kinds of conditions. Tears welled up behind her eyelids, but she refused to give in to them, focusing her thoughts instead on the good, home-cooked meal she’d had yesterday in a quaint little place called the Bluebird Café, and the long, invigorating walk she’d taken through the town. The fresh air, cloudless blue sky and vibrant trees in their autumn finery had done wonders to renew her spirits. She’d arrived back at her room so tired that, despite the lumpy bed, she’d slept soundly. So, physically, she felt better today. And even though Adam hadn’t given her a definitive answer to her proposal, she was hopeful that in the end he would say yes.
In the old days, Clare would have taken a moment upon waking to speak to the Lord about her situation. But even though she still tried to pray on occasion, the words were dry and did nothing to quench the thirst in her soul. So her talks with the Lord had become infrequent at best. She wished she had A.J.’s solid faith. Tragedy had only strengthened her sister’s relationship with the Lord. Of course, Clare supposed she was better off than Morgan, who seemed to have completely abandoned the faith of her youth in her pursuit of worldly success. Still, Clare felt an emptiness that could only be filled by reconnecting with the Lord. She just didn’t know how to go about it.
An image flashed through her mind of the small white church in town that had caught her eye yesterday. Set in a grove of trees, its tall steeple rising toward Heaven, it had called out to her, offering peace and solace. She’d gone so far as to try the door, but of course it was locked in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. However, Clare had made a note of the times for Sunday worship.
She glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she could just make the second service. Since she didn’t have anything else planned for the day, and she wasn’t inclined to spend any more time than necessary at the Evergreen, she figured it couldn’t hurt to go. Maybe worshipping in a new place might give her some fresh insights that would help get her back on track in her faith journey.
When Clare pulled up in front of the church forty-five minutes later, the small lot was already full. By the time she found a parking spot half a block away and stepped inside, the service was just beginning. She had planned to simply slip inconspicuously into a pew in the back, but unfortunately, there were no empty seats in the rear. An usher motioned to her, and before she could decline he was leading the way toward an empty spot near the front. Short of ignoring his hospitality, she had no choice but to follow him.
Clare was aware of the curious glances of the congregation as she traversed the main aisle. She supposed that in a small town like Hope Creek, visitors were big news. But she’d never liked being the center of attention, so she kept her eyes looking straight ahead. Only when she murmured a thank-you to the usher did she glance at the pew across the aisle—and found Adam and Nicole watching her. Adam gave her a brief smile and nod, and Nicole peeked around him and waved. Clare smiled in response, then turned her attention to the service. Or at least tried to. But she found herself casting frequent, surreptitious glances at the doctor and his daughter.
Nicole sat on the other side of Adam, so she couldn’t see the young girl very well. But she caught enough glimpses to know that Nicole was dressed in tight black hip-hugger jeans. Her top seemed to be a bit more discreet than the one she’d worn yesterday, but it was not attire Clare would have deemed appropriate for church.
Adam, on the other hand, was well dressed. His broad shoulders filled out his dark suit, and a gold tie lay against his starched white shirt. He’d looked great yesterday in jeans, and was equally handsome in today’s more impressive formal attire, which gave him a distinguished air.
Clare did her best to sing the hymns and listen to the sermon, but the elderly minister was a bit dry, and she found her attention—and her gaze—frequently wandering over to the doctor and his daughter…until she found Adam staring back. For a moment they’d both seemed startled, then Clare quickly looked away as hot color stole on to her cheeks. Served her right, she thought in chagrin. She was in the house of God. That’s where her thoughts should be, too. For the rest of the service she made a concerted effort to be more focused.
As the last hymn ended, however, her thoughts returned to Adam and Nicole. She was so preoccupied formulating a greeting in her head that it took her a moment to realize the woman next to her had spoken.
“I’m sorry. Were you speaking to me?”
The older woman smiled at her. “I’m the one who should apologize. You must have been deep in prayer. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
Pra
yer had been the furthest thing from her mind, Clare thought with a pang of guilt. “No reason to apologize. I must admit that I was thinking about something I need to do after the service. But I should have been praying.”
The woman chuckled. She had short, stylish gray hair that established her senior status, but her blue eyes twinkled with the enthusiasm of a youngster. “That’s something we’re all guilty of on occasion, I suspect.” She held out her hand. “I’m Adele Malone.”
Clare returned the woman’s firm handshake. “Clare Randall.”
“You’re new in town.”
“A visitor, actually. I’m here on…business.”
“Well, I’m glad you joined us this morning. Why, Nicole…”
Clare turned. Adam and Nicole had moved out of their pew, and stood only a few steps away.
“Your hair looks lovely today!” Adele said.
For the first time Clare noticed that Nicole’s hair was done in a neat French braid.
“Thank you. It was Clare’s idea.”
“We had to find a salon that would take Nicole yesterday afternoon without an appointment. But it was worth the effort. The style suits her.” Adam’s remark was directed at Clare, and she could read the gratitude in his eyes.
Adele looked with interest at Clare, then at Adam. “You two know each other?”
“We just met yesterday. On a business matter,” Adam replied.
“How nice. Well, I was just going to invite our visitor to stay and have coffee in the church hall. I hope you can join us, too.”
“Not today, I’m afraid. Nicole has quite a bit of homework, and I have to return a couple of pages that I received during the service.”
Was there regret in his voice? Or was it just her imagination, Clare wondered.
“Another time, then. I do hope you’ll stay, my dear,” Adele said, turning back to Clare.
Clare almost refused. But she really didn’t have anything else to do today. And if Adele knew Adam, perhaps the woman could offer a few more insights about the good doctor that would help Clare persuade him. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
“Good to see you, Adele,” Adam said. Then he turned to Clare. “I’ll be in touch.”
She nodded, and both she and Adele watched as Adam and Nicole made their way out.
“Such a nice man. And a wonderful doctor,” Adele said. “Hope Creek was lucky to get him when Doc Evans retired last year. And he certainly tries hard with Nicole. But it’s such a challenge raising children these days. Especially alone.” She glanced down at the ring on Clare’s left hand. “Do you have children, my dear?”
Clare’s throat tightened. Maybe someday that question would be easier to answer. But not yet. It still hurt as much as it had two years before. “No. I’m a widow.”
The older woman reached over and spoke softly as she touched Clare’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t suppose that’s something one ever gets over. I know I’d be completely lost without my Ralph. He’s home today with a cold, and it just didn’t feel quite right sitting in church without him. But you have your faith to sustain you. That’s such a great blessing in times of trial.” She tucked her arm through Clare’s. “Now come along and let’s get some coffee and a doughnut. Adam’s forever after me to lose twenty pounds, but honestly, I don’t think one doughnut on Sunday is going to hurt, do you?”
The woman chatted amiably as they made their way to the church hall, where she took pains to introduce Clare to several members of the congregation. It became clear that Adele was quite prominent in the town, obviously active in both church and civic pursuits. When they finally found themselves alone for a moment, Clare glanced at her watch and set down her cup of tea.
“I think I’ve taken up far too much of your time,” she apologized.
“Not at all. I enjoy meeting new people. Will you be in town long?”
“At least for a few days.”
“Do you have any friends or family nearby?”
“No.”
“So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”
Clare hadn’t really thought much about the holiday, even though it was only four days away. A.J. had just arrived in St. Louis, so she wasn’t in a position to leave the bookstore. And the last she’d heard, Morgan intended to work most of the holiday weekend. So Clare had planned to just grab a bite somewhere by herself. Which was a far cry from how she preferred to celebrate holidays, she thought wistfully. Special days should be festive occasions filled with fun and family. But both of those things were now absent from her life. Treating Thanksgiving like any other day seemed the best way to cope without falling apart.
“I really don’t have any plans,” she told the older woman.
“Then you must join us for dinner.”
Clare stared at her, surprised by the impromptu invitation. “But…I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family celebration.”
Adele waved her concern aside. “You won’t be. My husband and I don’t have children, or any close family. So we’ve always invited others to join us for Thanksgiving. The associate pastor and his wife will be there. And Adam and Nicole are coming, too. Adam’s only brother lives in Charlotte, and they go to his wife’s house for Thanksgiving. So Adam and Nicole will be on their own for the holiday. There will be a few others, as well. You’d be more than welcome.”
Clare considered the invitation. It was certainly preferable to eating at the Bluebird, charming as it was. Besides, the café might not even be open on that day. And it would give her a chance to press her case with Adam. But more than anything, she was touched by the older woman’s generosity in opening her home to a stranger on a holiday. Her invitation was truly Christian charity in action.
“Thank you,” Clare said with a smile. “I’d love to come. May I bring something?”
“Just yourself.” Adele opened her handbag and withdrew a small notepad and pen. “I’ll jot down my address and phone number. We usually begin to gather about four.”
Clare took the slip of paper a moment later and tucked it in her purse. “Thank you, Mrs. Malone.”
“Adele, my dear. We aren’t that formal in Hope Creek. And it’s my pleasure. No one should spend the holiday alone. Or lonely.”
As Clare said her goodbyes, she reflected on Adele’s parting words. The woman was right, of course. And she’d apparently taken care of the “alone” part for a number of Hope Creek residents. But the loneliness was harder to deal with. Because it went deeper. And wasn’t always as visible.
Adam and Nicole came to mind. They lived in the same house. They shared meals. They went to church together. So they weren’t alone. Yet Clare knew they were lonely. And sometimes that kind of loneliness was worse than being physically alone. There was something especially tragic about two people living in close proximity who were unable to connect.
Her work would be cut out for her with Nicole, Clare reflected. The young girl desperately needed guidance. But in her mind, there was a whole lot more to this nanny job than simply helping Nicole get her act together.
Bottom line, Adam and Nicole needed to establish a bond. And they needed an intermediary, a catalyst—maybe even a referee—to help them do that.
It would be a challenging role, Clare knew. But she wanted to play it. Because in the short time they’d spent together, she’d felt their pain. And she wanted to help them salvage their relationship before it was too late.
For Nicole’s sake, of course.
But also for Nicole’s father.
Chapter Three
“Thanks for coming by on such short notice.”
Clare nodded. She hadn’t expected to hear back from Adam so soon, but when she’d returned to the Evergreen after church and a quick breakfast she’d found a message waiting, asking her to stop by his house at four o’clock that afternoon. She’d called back, confirming the appointment.
“Would you mind if we talked in the kitchen?” Adam asked. “I
had to make an emergency run to the grocery store and I just got back. I need to put a few things away.”
“Of course.”
Clare followed him down a hallway toward the back of the house. At least the sunny kitchen had a little more personality than the living room. It was painted a pale blue, and a border of trailing morning glory vines had been stenciled along the top of the walls. A weathered oak table and four chairs stood beside a bay window that afforded a lovely view of the pine woods on the hillside behind the house.
“Have a seat and I’ll be with you in just a minute,” Adam said.
She chose a chair that gave her a view of the restful scene out the window. But instead Clare turned her attention to Adam, watching as he rapidly took items out of the plastic grocery bags—eggs, canned soup, bread, lunch meat, crackers, milk, cereal, microwave dinners. She caught a glimpse of his nearly empty refrigerator when he opened the door to put the milk inside.
“Sorry about this,” he apologized. “I try not to shop on Sunday, but sometimes the week just gets away from me. Then it becomes an emergency. I thought I’d have everything put away before you got here, but it always takes me longer at the grocery store than I expect.”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have any plans today, anyway.”
He glanced at the counter. “I think that takes care of all the perishables. Can I offer you something to drink?”
When she declined, he filled a coffee cup and joined her at the table. “I know I said I’d call you tomorrow, but frankly, I didn’t see any reason to wait. Seth Mitchell has confirmed your story. You seem sincere. I trust Jo’s judgment, and I desperately need help with Nicole.” And you need Jo’s legacy. He didn’t voice that reason. But it had been a definite factor in his decision.
Coils of tension deep in the pit of Clare’s stomach began to unwind. “Then you’re willing to take me on as nanny?”
He took a sip of his coffee and looked at her steadily. “To be honest, I’m still not entirely comfortable with this. It doesn’t seem right for me to accept your services at no cost.”