01_Gift from the Heart

by Irene Hannon

  And she also believed that where there was a will, there was a way.

  It might be one of the biggest challenges of her life, but Clare was determined to help Adam find the key that would unlock his heart so that he and Nicole could finally become a family.

  Clare was freezing.

  As she groggily came awake, she automatically reached for the fluffy comforter, only to realize it was already covering her. She frowned and peered at the illuminated face of her clock. Two in the morning.

  Shivering, she reached for her bedside lamp and flipped it on, blinking as light flooded the room. Something was wrong with the heat, she realized, as a frosty cloud of breath suddenly appeared in front of her.

  Clare didn’t have a clue about the heat source for her apartment. Adam had shown her how to work the thermostat when she’d moved in, and she’d never had a need to investigate further. So she had no idea how to fix the problem. She couldn’t bother Adam at this hour, but she had to do something. Even if she piled every blanket in the apartment on her bed, it wouldn’t be enough to keep her warm.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to get up. With shaking fingers she rummaged in the dresser for her heavy wool sweater and pulled it on over her nightgown. Then she slipped her arms into her velour robe. Finally, after wrapping the comforter around her shoulders, she padded out to the living room to examine the thermostat.

  It didn’t surprise her to find that the temperature in the apartment was thirty-nine degrees. So her next stop was the furnace, which was probably in the garage, she speculated. She didn’t recall ever seeing it, but then again, she’d never really looked. As she searched in her kitchen cabinets for a flashlight, it occurred to her that even if she found the furnace, she doubted whether she could do anything to fix the problem.

  But taking some kind of action beat sitting around freezing to death.

  Adam wearily replaced the receiver on his bedside phone and wiped a hand across his face. Middle-of-the-night calls from his emergency answering service were one of the down sides of his job, and he’d never quite gotten used to being jarred awake so rudely. The resulting adrenaline rush always left him restless and unable to get back to sleep.

  He rose and headed to the kitchen to get a drink of water before returning the patient’s call. As he reached for a glass, he glanced out the window toward the garage…and his hand froze in midair. Why were the lights on in Clare’s apartment?

  A sudden wave of panic engulfed him, sending another surge of adrenaline through his veins. Then he forced himself to take a deep breath. Maybe she was doing the same thing he was doing—getting a drink of water, he rationalized. Just because she was up in the middle of the night didn’t mean there was a problem.

  But after he drank his water and jotted a few notes about his conversation with the exchange, the light was still on. For a moment he hesitated. If all was well, Clare might consider his middle-of-the-night visit an intrusion. On the other hand, he knew he wouldn’t get another wink of sleep until he assured himself that everything was okay. He’d just have to risk her annoyance, he concluded, heading for his room to pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

  Adam shivered as he stepped outside, noting that the temperature had dropped substantially during the night. He wasted no time covering the ground between the house and garage, and when he reached the top of the stairs he rapped softly on the door.

  A moment later he heard Clare’s cautious voice on the other side. “Yes?”

  “Clare, it’s Adam. I saw your lights on. Is everything okay?”

  Instead of a verbal response, he heard the lock sliding back. A moment later the door swung open.

  Clare stood silhouetted by the light behind her. At least he thought it was Clare. But the apparition before him actually looked more like a mummy.

  “Clare?”

  She stepped aside, and now the light fell on her face. She was wrapped in some sort of quilt or comforter. “Boy, am I g-glad to s-see you!”

  Her voice was shaky, and he moved beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “N-no heat.”

  Adam suddenly became aware of the bone-chilling cold in the room. “What happened?”

  “I wish I kn-knew. I just woke up a f-few minutes ago.”

  Now he could see the clouds of breath when she spoke. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you at this hour. Why are you up, anyway?”

  “Patient call. Look, you can’t stay here. Grab your coat and come back to the house. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.”

  Instead of responding, she quickly dropped the comforter and pulled her coat out of the tiny hall closet. He held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves, but her fingers fumbled on the buttons. Finally she gave up and just bunched it closed with one hand.

  Adam preceded her out the door. “Be careful on the steps,” he cautioned, eyeing her long robe. “In fact, let me go first.”

  She followed closely on his heels, and when they reached the bottom, he flipped off the light in the stairwell and opened the door. A blast of cold air whipped past them as they stepped outside, and Clare faltered. Instinctively, Adam reached for her hand, enfolding her delicate fingers in his. The iciness of her skin startled him, and without even stopping to consider his actions, he drew her closer to his body and placed a hand protectively around her shoulders as he guided her toward the house.

  When they reached the kitchen, Adam didn’t even pause. He continued toward the living room, eased her out of her coat, and gently pressed her into the chair closest to the fireplace. He retrieved the throw that was draped over the couch and tucked it around her, then knelt and set a match to the kindling in the grate. As flames began to lick up the sides of the dry wood, he returned to Clare’s side. She was still shivering noticeably, and he could hear her teeth chattering. He reached for her cold hands, cocooning them in his warm clasp.

  “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  When Adam returned a few minutes later and silently handed Clare a steaming mug, she sent him a grateful look. “Thank you. This looks wonderful.”

  But no more wonderful than she did, he realized. The flickering firelight cast a warm glow on her face, and her eyes looked large and luminous. Yet it was her hair that caught his attention. He had never seen it so loose and free before. It tumbled around her shoulders in disarray, gossamer strands of gold as fine as newly spun silk. Another rush of adrenaline that had nothing to do with his late-night patient call surged through him, and he felt an almost overpowering urge to reach out and run his fingers through her soft tresses. He stifled the impulse by jamming his fists into his pockets. What was wrong with him tonight?

  Clare took several long sips of tea, then sighed contentedly and snuggled more deeply into the chair. “I’m finally starting to feel my fingers again. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “You should have called me right away.”

  “I hated to bother you in the middle of the night.”

  “I would have been more bothered if I’d discovered that you tried to stick it out till morning. And maybe ended up with pneumonia in the process.”

  “I never get sick. I told you, I’m stronger than I look.”

  “Well, don’t push your luck. I need to return a call to my patient. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

  “Of course. Take your time.”

  Adam was gone longer than he expected, and by the time he returned Clare had set the empty mug beside her chair and fallen asleep. With her hair spilling over one cheek, and her face in repose, she looked younger than ever. And more fragile, somehow, despite her claim about being strong.

  Adam felt a bit indiscreet, standing there watching her sleep, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so lovely. And her loveliness went deeper than mere physical beauty. She was kind and sensitive and caring, and generous to a fault—much like Jo had been, he reflected. Despite her own pain, she
had opened her heart to him and Nicole and given far more of herself than her job as nanny required. And because of that, she was making a huge difference in their lives.

  Without conscious decision, Adam moved slowly toward her and tentatively touched her hair. It was whisper soft. Silky. And so appealing. Just like the woman.

  Suddenly Adam was overcome by a longing so deep and intense that it took his breath away. Not just a longing for physical intimacy, but for an even deeper, more lasting connection. A connection of the heart, mind and soul. The kind that Jack and Theresa shared.

  Jack had told him at Christmas that there was no secret to what he’d found with Theresa. It just required a willingness to reveal to special people what was in your heart. And Adam wanted to do that. Desperately. But the memories of his father’s ridicule the few times he’d tried, as a youth, to express his feelings were difficult to overcome. How did you move past that? How did you learn to trust the most fragile of all your possessions—your heart—with another person?

  Adam stared at Clare and drew a long, unsteady breath. He didn’t know the answer to those questions. Nor was he sure he could find them. But unless he did, he would never make much headway with Nicole. She was his first priority. He needed to focus on their relationship, to find a way to welcome her into his heart. To open himself up and share.

  Then maybe, if he succeeded with her, he would succeed with other relationships.

  That was a big maybe, of course. And even if he got that far, even if he decided to explore another kind of relationship, he needed to move very slowly. He’d made impulsive decisions once, with Elaine, and the results had been disastrous. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Adam raked his fingers through his hair. The whole notion of emotional intimacy was uncharted territory for him. And he couldn’t exactly go out and buy a road map to show him the way. So he bowed his head and sought direction from a higher power.

  Dear Lord, I know I’ve made a mess of things up till now in my relationships. But with Your help, I’d like to try and escape from the self-imposed emotional exile I’ve lived in for so long. You’ve already sent us a great blessing in Clare, and I thank You for that. I thank You, also, for the example of a good marriage that You’ve given me in Jack and Theresa. And for the insights of my brother, and his support. Please help me to listen with my heart to the guidance You are providing, and to recognize the opportunities to grow that You send my way.

  I also ask that you let Clare feel Your healing presence in a special way. I know that You have given her a great cross to bear, and sometimes I think that her slender shoulders may not be able to hold it up. I see the pain and sadness in her eyes. She has been so good for us…please be good to her. Help her to find a way to replace her sorrow with joy.

  And finally, Lord, please pass a message on to Jo for me. Tell her I said thank you.

  “So how’s the birthday girl?”

  Clare smiled. “Hi, A.J. The birthday girl is trying to ignore the increasing number of candles on her cake.”

  “You’re only as old as you feel.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re the youngest.”

  “You aren’t that far ahead of me. Did you hear from Morgan?”

  “Yes. She called before she left for work. Woke me up at some uncivilized hour this morning. Apparently there’s some crisis at the agency. Sometimes I think she should just close up her apartment and move into her office. She’s never home, anyway.”

  “Tell me about it. Someone needs to give that girl a good talking-to.”

  “Someone did. Grant Kincaid, to be exact.”

  “The guy who inherited half of Aunt Jo’s cottage?”

  “None other. She tried to get him to meet with her on Christmas Eve to discuss it, and he told her to forget it. That it was a holiday and he was spending the time with his family.”

  “Good for him! I take it Morgan wasn’t too happy about that?”

  “Apparently not. It was still on her mind when she called today. And Christmas was two weeks ago.”

  “Hmm. Maybe she’s finally met someone who can talk some sense into her. We can hope, anyway. But I called to talk about you. Any special plans for the day?”

  “No. Just the usual.”

  There was a moment of silence. “You haven’t told anyone it’s your birthday, have you?” A.J. said, her tone slightly accusing.

  “No. I don’t want people to make a fuss.”

  An audible sigh came over the line. “I wish I was there. We’d go out on the town, have a great dinner, see a movie. Look. Promise me you’ll do something special today. I don’t care what it is. Just something.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s important to mark the special days in our lives. Even if it’s only for ourselves. Just do something out of your normal routine, okay?”

  Clare smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

  As she hung up the phone a few minutes later, Clare thought about A.J.’s request. Her sister was right, of course. And up until two years ago she’d enthusiastically embraced that same philosophy, making it a point to celebrate special days in ways that created happy memories that could be pulled out and relived on not-so-special days. But she’d gotten out of the habit since Dennis and David died. No day seemed special to her anymore. Which was a sign of depression. She’d learned that from the reading she’d done over the past two years as she’d searched in vain for solace and comfort.

  But she’d promised A.J. she’d make an effort. Considering that it was an unseasonably warm day, maybe she could take a hike along Hope Creek. She’d seen the trail marker outside of town and she’d been meaning to explore. And a change of scene might help lift her spirits, which always took a nosedive on special days. Especially since she now spent most of them alone.

  Clare paused and listened. The path had veered momentarily away from the creek, but she was sure she heard the splash of a waterfall through the trees. She struck off toward the sound, brushing aside the branches that blocked her way.

  A couple of minutes later, she paused in delight as she emerged into a secluded, magical clearing. A small waterfall cascaded into a clear pool, and large, flat rocks were strewn along the edges. It was the kind of place where a fanciful sort of person would expect to find a leprechaun sitting on a boulder, hammering on his shoe.

  A smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. That was more like something A.J. would dream up, she thought affectionately. Her youngest sister had always had a whimsical streak. Morgan, on the other hand, had always been all business. She’d been the one who ran the lemonade stand when they were kids and devised ways to increase sales, while A.J. drank away most of the profits. Clare had been the practical one, making sure there were enough cups and napkins for the customers Morgan hoped to entice.

  But right at this moment, in this place, she didn’t feel practical. She felt young. And at peace. It had to be the setting, she concluded. The mist-clad mountains rose in the distance, but the sky above was cloudless, and the wind whispered in the fir trees. She lifted her face and closed her eyes, letting the sun seep into her pores. It felt so warm, so relaxing, so…

  “Clare?”

  Her eyelids flew open and she gasped, jerking toward the voice. At the sight of Reverend Nichols sitting on a rock a short distance away, a book in his hand, Clare’s shoulders sagged in relief.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “I was engrossed in my reading, and when I looked up there you were. At least I thought it was you.”

  “That’s okay. I didn’t see you, either,” Clare reassured him as she closed the distance between them. “Then again, I wasn’t looking. I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

  “I stumbled across this spot a few months ago, and I’ve sort of adopted it as my private hideaway. It’s a great place for contemplation.”

  “Then I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

  “Not at all. I was just getting ready to
go back. What brings you out on this beautiful day?”

  “I’ve been meaning to explore the creek. And when my sister called this morning to wish me a happy birthday, she suggested I do something different to celebrate the day. So I took her advice.”

  “Well, you couldn’t have picked a better way than to spend time in God’s glorious creation. Especially on a day like this. And I think I have a perfect verse for both the place and the occasion.” He flipped through his book, which Clare now realized was a pocket Bible, until he came to Psalms. “‘I lift up my eyes toward the mountains; when shall help come to me?’” he read. “‘My help is from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.’” He continued further down the page. “‘The Lord will guard you from all evil; He will guard your life. The Lord will guard your coming and your going, both now and forever.’”

  The minister’s voice echoed in the stillness, and for a moment after he finished he was silent. Then he closed the book and looked up at Clare. “What better birthday present could we ask?” he said quietly.

  She blinked rapidly a few times, then gave him a melancholy smile. “That’s one of my sister’s favorite verses.”

  “But not one of yours?”

  The question was gentle and held no reproach. Clare studied the young minister, debating how best to answer. “I’m not sure I’ve experienced that verse in my life,” she said slowly.

  “And your sister has?”

  Clare thought about his question. A.J. had suffered plenty of trauma and tragedy in her thirty-two years. Enough to last a lifetime. The loss of her fiancé. A disabling injury. Shattered dreams. Yet her faith had never wavered, as Clare’s had. She still found comfort in the Bible. Even in the verse Reverend Nichols had just read. Slowly Clare sat down on the rock across from the minister, her face troubled.

  “I think so. But I’m not sure why.” She recounted A.J.’s story, then shook her head. “Despite everything she went through, she never lost her connection to God, even though it didn’t seem He’d been very diligent in guarding her.” She sighed. “I wish I had her faith. When things got rough for me, I felt as if the Lord had abandoned me.”