01_Gift from the Heart

by Irene Hannon

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  Clare stared at the clear stream, tumbling over the rocks a few feet away. “Most of the time. But I don’t want to feel that way. It leaves an empty place deep inside that I don’t know how to fill.”

  “I see you at church every week. Does it help?”

  “More so since you became pastor. Your sermons are always wonderful. But a lot of the time I feel like I’m just going through the motions. I’m still missing the connection to the Lord that I used to have.”

  “Do you pray? On your own?”

  “I try sometimes. But my prayers are pretty unfocused. I don’t even know what to ask for, exactly.”

  “You mentioned that you’d had some rough times. Do you want to tell me about them?”

  Clare looked over at the minister. She rarely talked about her trauma. A.J. and Morgan knew what had happened, of course. But even they didn’t know about the burden of guilt she carried. She hadn’t shared that with anyone. It was too painful. Too incriminating. Yet maybe she needed to talk about it, to acknowledge it, before she could let it go.

  “I lost my husband and son in a car accident two years ago,” she said softly.

  Reverend Nichols’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Clare. I knew you were a widow, but I didn’t know any of the details. One tragic death is difficult enough to deal with. Two would break a lot of people. It takes great strength to endure that kind of cross. But you survived.”

  She didn’t respond immediately, and when she spoke her voice was a mere whisper. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”

  “A devastating loss can make a person feel that way,” he said gently.

  “It’s not just that.” She hesitated. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, and she brushed back a stray strand of hair with an unsteady hand. “It was my fault that they died.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then the minister spoke again. “Are you sure about that, Clare?”

  She nodded miserably. “I was at a pool party…a birthday party…for a good friend. Dennis, my husband, had just gotten back from an overseas trip. I knew he had jet lag. But I didn’t want to leave the party, so I—I asked him to drive our son to baseball practice, even though I was supposed to do it. We’d had a brief rain shower, and the pavement was slick. The accident report said h-he’d lost control of the car going around a curve on the wet road.” She drew a ragged breath and buried her face in her hands. “How I wish I could believe that! But I know how tired he was. I’m so afraid that he fell asleep at the wheel. Or that he simply couldn’t react quickly enough because his reflexes were dull from fatigue. They both died as a result of my selfishness. If only I’d honored my commitment to drive David to practice, left the party when I was supposed to, I’d still have my husband and son.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  For a moment only the sound of the tumbling brook could be heard in the stillness. Then Clare felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was almost afraid to look at Reverend Nichols, sure she would see reproach in his eyes. But when she finally did risk a glance, his eyes remained kind and nonjudgmental.

  “You’ve made a lot of assumptions, Clare,” he said gently.

  “I was there, Reverend,” she said, her eyes dull with pain. “I knew Dennis was tired. I should never have asked him to drive.”

  “Maybe not. But you don’t know what really happened on that road. Maybe your husband was fully awake. Maybe an animal darted in front of the car and he tried to avoid it. Maybe when the car started to slide, there was no way to stop it no matter who was driving. Maybe if you’d been in the driver’s seat, you would have been killed. Perhaps the Lord had other plans for you. Things He wanted you still to do here.”

  Her shoulders slumped and she looked away again. “Maybe,” she said dispiritedly. “But I still feel that my selfishness was the cause of everything.”

  “May I tell you something, Clare? Our friendship is still new. But selfish is not a word I would ever use to describe you. I’ve seen your dedication to the Feed the Hungry program. You’re at church every week, rain or shine, working in the kitchen. And I’ve seen what you’ve done for Adam and Nicole. You’ve put your heart and soul into the nanny job. And now that I know your story, I can only imagine how difficult that’s been for you. But you’re making a tremendous difference in the lives of two very lonely people who were desperately in need of help. Selfish? I don’t think so. And I don’t think the Lord does, either.”

  “I wish I could be sure of that in my heart,” Clare said wistfully.

  “May I make a suggestion? You said earlier that you’d tried to pray, but that you didn’t know what to ask for. So don’t ask for anything. Just talk to the Lord. Tell Him what’s in your heart. Tell Him about your fears and your guilt and your pain. And trust that He’ll give you what you need, whatever that is…release…healing…forgiveness…purpose. He’ll know.”

  Clare looked at the minister thoughtfully. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It is simple. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It can be very difficult to acknowledge that we don’t have all the answers and to be open to God’s guidance. In fact, we often tend to fight His direction, because it’s not the path we thought we were supposed to follow. So we have to learn to listen for His voice speaking softly in our hearts, just as Elijah did in the cave. And we can’t force God to respond. He always answers…but in His own time, not ours.”

  For the first time in two years, Clare felt hope stirring in her heart. Reverend Nichols’s words had eased her burden of guilt, and he’d given her some sound advice about how to reestablish her relationship with the Lord.

  It wasn’t a present Clare had expected to receive on her birthday. But she couldn’t think of anything she would have rather received.

  Chapter Eight

  “So why didn’t you tell us your birthday was last week?”

  Clare shot Adam a startled look across the table. “How did you know?”

  “I ran into Reverend Nichols in town today. He said you two crossed paths by the creek on your birthday.”

  “Your birthday was last week?” Nicole stared at her. “We didn’t even have a cake!”

  Clare flushed. “I don’t need a cake. And I stopped counting birthdays a long time ago.”

  “But birthdays are a big deal! We should have had a party or something!”

  “I agree,” Adam said. Then he turned to Clare. “Do you have anything planned tomorrow?”

  She stared at him, taken aback. Her Saturdays were generally her own, except when Adam had patients in the hospital. Then she watched Nicole for a couple of hours in the morning, as she was planning to do tomorrow. “I’ll be over here in the morning while you’re gone. That’s about it.”

  “Good. Then how about we go out to lunch when I get home, and afterward take the sled to Logan’s Hill? I heard we’re supposed to get several inches of snow tonight, now that our brief reprieve from winter is over.”

  Nicole and Clare stared at him incredulously, and Adam felt hot color steal up his neck. He knew his suggestion was out of character. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Spontaneous when it came to planning family outings. But for some reason, the sledding idea had popped into his mind and he’d just run with it. Though based on their looks, maybe he should have run in the other direction, he thought ruefully.

  Nicole spoke first. “What sled?”

  “The one I bought on the way home tonight.”

  “Cool!”

  At least he had Nicole’s approval, he thought with relief. But he wasn’t so sure about Clare. When he looked at her, he saw uncertainty in the depths of her eyes. Had his suggestion triggered some unhappy memories, he wondered suddenly? It hadn’t occurred to him that sledding might make her think of similar outings with her own family. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  “If you’d rather do something else, just say the wor
d,” he told her. “We could go to a movie instead.”

  “I like the sledding idea,” Nicole declared.

  “But it’s Clare’s birthday, Nicole. So we need to pick something she’ll enjoy.”

  Clare looked from father to daughter. She was deeply touched by Adam’s gesture to recognize her birthday, although sledding wouldn’t have been her first choice. It reminded her of the childhood accident that had damaged her tooth. And of similar outings with David and Dennis. But if her goal was to help Adam and Nicole become a family, she should be encouraging them to do things like this together, not putting a damper on them. Surely she could put her own memories aside for the day.

  “Sledding sounds great!” she assured him enthusiastically, hoping they wouldn’t notice that the brightness in her voice was slightly forced. “But you really don’t have to do anything.”

  “Can we get a cake, too, Dad?”

  “Of course. What kind would you like, Clare?”

  “Really, Adam, it’s not necessary.”

  “She likes chocolate,” Nicole told him.

  “Chocolate it is, then. I’ll call the bakery in the morning.”

  Clare capitulated with a smile. “Okay, I can see I’m being overruled here. But you have to promise me one thing. No presents.”

  “It’s not a birthday without presents,” Nicole protested.

  “No presents, or I’m not going sledding,” Clare said firmly.

  “That’s not fair,” Nicole sulked.

  “Hey, we did pretty good so far. Let’s not push our luck,” Adam told Nicole. Then he turned to Clare. “Okay. Cross my heart. No presents. Deal?”

  Clare smiled at his teasing tone. “Deal.”

  As the dinner progressed, punctuated by easygoing conversation and laughter, Clare had the oddest feeling. It wasn’t altogether unfamiliar, but it had been absent for so long that she almost didn’t recognize it. Contentment.

  It didn’t take her long to pinpoint the reasons for her feeling of warmth and well-being. The chip on Nicole’s shoulder was slowly disappearing. The relationship between father and daughter was showing definite signs of thawing. Her pain and guilt had eased slightly since she’d begun to talk to God, as Reverend Nichols had suggested. And now she had an impromptu party to look forward to with two very special people.

  So much for a quiet and inconsequential birthday, she thought with a smile.

  A.J. would be pleased.

  “Okay, it’s Clare’s turn again,” Nicole said, handing over the sled.

  “Just one more run, then we need to leave,” Clare responded. “The sun’s going down. Besides, you’re starting to look like Rudolph.”

  Nicole giggled and rubbed her nose. “I don’t care. This is fun.”

  “Well, we’ve outlasted everybody, that’s for sure,” Adam said, surveying the deserted hill.

  Clare lay on the sled, and Adam moved behind her. “Ready?” At her nod, he leaned down and grasped the edges of the runners. A moment later he gave her a hearty push.

  The cold air whipped past her face as she flew down the hill, and Clare smiled both at the invigorating ride and the success of the day’s outing. They’d shared a late lunch, and Nicole had been more animated than usual in anticipation of the sledding to come. She’d even teased Adam once, which had clearly delighted him. Since arriving at Logan’s Hill, it had been nonstop action. And just plain fun. An unexpectedly happy, laughter-filled interlude she suspected they’d all needed desperately.

  As a sudden spray of snow crystals stung her face, Clare closed her eyes for a brief moment. She didn’t even see the hard clump of ice that loomed ahead and brought the sled to an abrupt stop. All she knew was that she was suddenly flying through the air, minus the sled. She opened her eyes in alarm, then quickly shut them again as she landed in a heap with a bone-jarring thud that completely knocked the breath out of her.

  For several long seconds she lay unmoving, trying to coax her lungs into working again. Just when she was about to panic, they kicked into gear, and she gasped greedily, inhaling the bracing cold air.

  As she concentrated on breathing in and out, she felt the hair being brushed back from her face.

  “Clare? Are you all right? Don’t move!”

  At the undisguised panic in Adam’s voice, she struggled to turn over. But a firm hand on her shoulder restrained her. “Don’t move!” he repeated, his voice strained and tense.

  “Dad, is she okay?” Nicole sounded scared and close to tears.

  Clare took another deep breath before she tried to speak. “I’m fine,” she reassured them, her voice muffled. “Adam, please let me up. I just had the wind knocked out of me.”

  For a moment his hand remained in place, then gradually the pressure eased. “Okay, but let’s take this slow and easy.”

  When he rolled her onto her back, Clare almost lost her breath again. There was still panic in Adam’s eyes, though it was tempered slightly now. But she saw something else, as well. Something that made her heart stir to life. Adam’s worry about her condition wasn’t just driven by professional concern or even friendship. He cared about her. Deeply. Not just as a person who had come to be important in his life and the life of his daughter. But as a woman.

  Oddly enough, Clare wasn’t even sure he recognized the depth of his feelings. Or wanted to recognize them. Which was probably good. Because she certainly wasn’t ready to deal with them. Or with her own.

  “Does anything hurt?”

  She blinked, trying to refocus her thoughts so she could answer Adam’s question. “No.”

  “Did you hit your head or black out, even for a second or two?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. Let’s try a couple of things.”

  She flexed the limbs he requested, then waited while he examined her scalp with gentle fingers.

  “Everything seems to be okay,” he finally said with evident relief.

  She sat up. “I told you that at the beginning.”

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. Come on, I’ll give you a hand up and we’ll get Rudolph here out of the cold.”

  Clare glanced at Nicole. The girl was hovering a few feet away, her red nose bright against her suddenly pale face. Obviously Adam had noticed how upset she was and was attempting to lighten the mood.

  Clare put her hand in Adam’s, and he pulled her to her feet in one swift, smooth motion. She was grateful for the support of his arm around her waist, however, because her legs suddenly felt very rubbery.

  When she looked up, he studied her face assessingly. “Okay?”

  “A little shaky. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  Nicole edged closer, and Clare reached out a hand. “Hey! Cheer up. You should be glad it was me that wiped out and not you. Now you guys can tease me about my rusty sledding skills.”

  Nicole took her hand. “Are you really okay?” she asked tremulously.

  “Fine. Ask the doctor,” Clare said with a smile.

  “I expect she’ll have a few bruises. But other than that, no harm done,” he assured his daughter.

  “Can we go home, then? I’m getting pretty cold now.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Clare agreed.

  As they started for the car, Adam kept his arm around her waist and Nicole held tightly to her hand. Almost like a family.

  Unfortunately, just not her family, she thought with a sudden, wistful pang.

  Adam caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up from the medical journal he was reading. Nicole was hovering in the doorway of his office, her face uncertain.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I just finished my homework.”

  Adam waited while Nicole shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “So…are you busy?” she finally said.

  Adam closed the journal. “Not really. I can read this anytime.”

  She hesitated, then moved slowly into the room, her hands in her po
ckets. “I just wanted to make sure you really thought Clare was okay.”

  “She’s fine. Just a little headache. She hit the ground pretty hard.”

  “Yeah. I was kind of scared for a minute.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nicole perched on the edge of a chair, tension quivering in her body, like a child about to make her first jump off the high-diving board. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and a little shaky. “It made me remember how fast Mom died. I mean, one day she was taking me shopping, and the next she was gone. Like, with…with no warning.”

  Her voice broke, and Adam’s heart contracted. He set aside the journal and leaned forward. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Nicole. It’s very hard to lose someone you love, especially when you’re so young.”

  “I felt really alone after that. I mean, I know you took me in, but it kind of wrecked up your life. Like all of a sudden you were stuck with a kid living with you. At first I…I felt like you didn’t want me. Like I was in the way. Sometimes I…I still do.”

  Adam felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Instinctively he stood and moved out from behind his desk to sit on the arm of the chair beside Nicole. Tentatively he put his arm around her thin shoulders. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

  “You weren’t in the way. And I did want you,” he told her emphatically. “Even before the accident, I wanted to be more involved in your life, but I didn’t know how. You and your mom had a special bond, and I never felt like I fit in very well. I know a lot of that’s my fault. I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings. But I’m learning. Because I love you, Nicole. I always have. And I’m doing my best to make us a family. I want that more than anything.”

  She sniffled and looked up at him. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She looked down again and fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “Sometimes I get scared that maybe…maybe you’ll go away, too,” she said in a small voice.