Wade was still in the doorway, still waiting for some kind of response, though the chill in his gaze told her he wasn’t going to wait much longer. She needed to say something, anything, because if she didn’t, she would never get another chance.
“Do you remember when we talked about what Missy said—about our nevers being the doors we keep closed?”
Wade shrugged, the barest of acknowledgments. He was going to make her work for this, and she supposed after everything that was only fair.
“Anyway, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized she was right. Being a mother was one of my nevers because I was afraid I’d get it wrong. But that isn’t the only door I’ve been keeping shut. There were others, like letting myself love someone—and letting myself be loved. And then you came along, and I was so scared that I did get it wrong. But I don’t want to get it wrong anymore. I want to figure out how to get it right—with you.”
He was standing with his arms crossed now, his face still carefully blank. “So that’s it? Just like that, you’re ready to turn over a new leaf?”
Christy-Lynn took a step forward, then checked herself. “It isn’t just like that, Wade. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. You made me think about it. And I know now that it’s what I want, that you’re what I want.” His face became a blur as her eyes filled. She blinked away the tears. “I can’t . . . lose you.”
There wasn’t a chink in Wade’s frosty facade. “You’ll forgive me for being skeptical.”
She wiped at her eyes again. “Please. I know I hurt you, and you have every right to be skeptical. But you have to know it wasn’t on purpose.”
“I do know that. I also know it won’t be on purpose next time. And there will be a next time, if I let myself believe you.”
“You’re wrong,” Christy-Lynn shot back, closing the distance between them in two quick strides. “Yes, I ran. Because it’s what I’ve always done. But it was because you were trying to make me see things I didn’t want to see.” She dropped her eyes to the floor, her throat thick with a fresh rush of tears. “I just didn’t see them until it was too late.”
She was startled when she felt his fingers under her chin, tilting her head back until she was forced to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t have to be too late, Christy-Lynn. Not if you really mean what you’re saying. I told you once that I’d wait, but I have to know—for sure this time. Do you want this? Do you want . . . us?”
Christy-Lynn dipped her head, afraid to trust her voice. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do. But I warned you once—I might not be worth the wait.”
“And I told you I’d risk it.”
“Even if I’m still scared?”
He pulled her close, his lips feather light as he touched them to her forehead. “Especially if you’re scared.” His words were like honey, slow and warm and unbearably sweet. “I can be brave enough for the both of us until you get good at it.”
“How do you know I will?”
“Because you’ve finally decided to. And because the woman I know is much too strong to let a little thing like being loved scare her for long. You’re going to get good at it, Christy-Lynn. I promise. In fact, something tells me you’re going to get very good at it.”
He kissed her then, so slowly and thoroughly that she felt herself sway against him. It was the delicious surprise of it that made her head swim, the rightness of their bodies melding together, like two halves of the same perfect whole. She was ready. After years of running, of hiding, of punishing herself, she was ready to let herself be happy.
But there was something they hadn’t discussed. She pulled away briefly, looking up at him through damp, spiky lashes. “In the interest of full disclosure, I need to inform you that I’m now a package deal—I come with a little girl.”
Wade grinned broadly as he dragged her back against his chest. “And a cat,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t forget the cat.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Riddlesville, West Virginia
October 15, 2017
Christy-Lynn glanced at Wade as he pulled the Rover into Rhetta’s drive and cut the engine.
He must have felt her gaze because he turned and reached for her hand. “Ready?”
She pulled in a deep breath, the kind kids took before hurling themselves into the deep end of the pool. “I think so.”
Wade gave her fingers a squeeze. “You are. I promise.”
Rhetta was at the door before they made it up the porch steps. She looked frailer than the last time Christy-Lynn had seen her, her eyes rimmed with shadows, her face worn. Inside the door, a pair of battered green suitcases waited, along with a pink fleece jacket and Iris’s beloved teddy—a child’s life stuffed into two avocado-green Samsonite cases. The sight brought a sharp pang of memory, of other moving days, of strange beds and new schools, of having to start all over—again.
She must be terrified.
Wade followed the direction of her gaze. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “This is good. It’s right.”
Christy-Lynn nodded, noting the trio of half-packed boxes in the middle of the living room floor. Rhetta had been packing, picking and choosing which things to take with her to Pine Brook and which to leave behind. She was glad to see it. Part of her had been afraid she might change her mind at the last minute.
Christy-Lynn nodded at the boxes. “You’ve been busy.”
Rhetta’s faded blue eyes moved wearily around the room full of knickknacks, as if wondering where it had all come from. “I’m leaving more than I’m taking. They say I won’t even need to bring dishes to the new place. I should be able to finish boxing the things I want by the time you come back.” She paused, making another scan of the living room. “I still can’t believe I’m leaving this place. I always thought I’d die right here in this house.”
Christy-Lynn had no trouble believing that. “Will you miss it?”
Rhetta mulled the question a moment, lips pursed thoughtfully. “I’ll be sad to leave Honey all alone in that cemetery,” she said finally. “She always hated this town, and now she’ll never get out. But Iris will, and I’m glad of that. She deserves better than the little bit I could give her.”
“Where is Iris?” Christy-Lynn asked, imagining her hiding somewhere, sobbing her heart out.
“She’s in her room. I sent her to check her closet one last time. Trying to keep her busy.” She paused, gathering a shaky breath, then called down the hall. “Iris, honey. It’s time to go.”
Christy-Lynn cringed, wondering what those words must sound like to a three-year-old who was about to be yanked up by the roots, torn from the only home she’d ever known.
“How is she? Is she . . . upset?”
Rhetta’s lips thinned. “There were some tears when I first told her. But she settled down when she realized she’d be living with you—her Angel Mama.”
Rhetta loved the nickname, and apparently Iris did too, but it still made Christy-Lynn uncomfortable. It wasn’t an easy name to live up to, especially for someone with no maternal skills whatsoever.
Rhetta reached for her hand, her smile teary. “Don’t you worry. She’s young, and young hearts mend. A year from now she won’t remember this place, and you’ll be her mama for real.”
Christy-Lynn felt the butterflies in her stomach stir to life. “She knows you’ll be nearby though, right? That she can see you whenever she wants?”
“Yes, but not too much at first, I think. Having me around in the beginning would only confuse her. That’s why I wanted to wait a bit before coming. She needs to get settled in, to know her place is with you now.”
Before Christy-Lynn could protest, Iris appeared wearing the sparkly pink sneakers she had brought her the last time she visited. Her eyes went wide when she spotted Wade and Christy-Lynn.
“Baby,” Rhetta said gently. “Can you say hello?”
Iris mouthed the word soundlessly, her gaze locked on Christy-Lynn.
Rhetta bent down and smoothe
d Iris’s blonde curls, her gnarled hands skimming over the child’s hair, face, shoulders, as if trying to memorize the feel of her. “Are you ready to go on a nice long car trip like we talked about? All the way to Virginia?”
It took a moment, but Iris finally nodded.
Rhetta reached for her hand, leading her across the living room to where Christy-Lynn stood. “And you’re going to be a big girl for Nonny, aren’t you?” she asked with a sudden catch in her voice. “You’re going to be brave and not cry.”
It was all Christy-Lynn could do not to turn away, but she needed to be brave too. As much for Rhetta’s sake as for Iris’s. And it was only temporary, she reminded herself. In three weeks, Rhetta would be with them in Sweetwater, living just a few miles away, a welcome addition to her rapidly growing family. In the meantime, she’d be fumbling her way through motherhood with zero advance training. Not that motherhood ever came with an instruction manual. According to Missy, you learned to be a mother by being a mother—one skinned knee and juice spill at a time. She prayed it was true.
“Let’s make sure you’re good and warm,” Rhetta was saying as she zipped Iris into her jacket. “And then it’s time to get in the car.”
“I’ll take the bags out,” Wade said, grabbing the suitcases and heading for the door.
Christy-Lynn watched him go, feeling suddenly bereft. He was giving her a few moments with Rhetta, to say whatever needed saying. But what was there to say at this bittersweet moment that hadn’t already been said over the past weeks and months?
“Iris,” Rhetta said evenly, stooping down with arms extended. “Come say goodbye to Nonny.”
Iris melted into Rhetta’s arms, her violet eyes brimming as her great-grandmother pressed one last fierce kiss to her cheek, then handed her off to Christy-Lynn. “Take care of each other,” she whispered brokenly.
Christy-Lynn stifled a gasp as Iris landed in her arms. The sudden weight of her, warm and slight and already clinging, was sobering. “It would be so much easier if you were coming with us today, Rhetta. For Iris and for me.”
Rhetta forced a smile. “Easier isn’t always best.”
“What if there’s something I need to know, like how she likes her oatmeal or what vitamins I’m supposed to buy?”
“We’ve talked about all that, Christy-Lynn. And if there’s something we missed, there’s always the phone, though I doubt you’ll need it. Aside from the nightmares, she’s an easy child, and I expect those will stop soon. She just needs to feel safe, and she will with you. You’ll see. Now get gone. You’ve got a long drive.”
“You’re not coming out to the car with us?”
Rhetta closed her eyes, throat bobbing convulsively. “I don’t think I can. I know I’ll see her in a few weeks, but we’ve never been apart, and it’s . . . hard. Just know how grateful I am to you. Everything changed the day you knocked on my door.”
Christy-Lynn blinked back tears of her own as she pressed a kiss to Rhetta’s cheek. “It’s me who should be grateful. We’re family now, and that’s something I’ve never had.”
Rhetta reached into her pocket, fishing out a tissue. “Stop that talk or you’ll really have me blubbering. Now go on. I’ve got packing to do, and you’ve got a little girl to get home.”
Iris clung to Christy-Lynn’s neck, propped on one hip as they stepped off the porch and out into the bright afternoon sunshine. Wade was waiting, the back door of the Rover thrown open, ready to buckle Iris into her car seat. Christy-Lynn met his gaze as she handed Iris over, grateful for the unspoken reassurance she saw there. She was going to be fine. They . . . were going to be fine. And in that moment, perhaps for the first time, she knew it was true.
She glanced back at the house as Wade turned the Rover toward home, recalling Rhetta’s words of gratitude. Everything changed the day you knocked on my door. The thought brought an unexpected sting to the backs of her lids.
Everything had changed for her too.
EPILOGUE
Iris sat wide-eyed on the edge of the pink princess bed, sparkly sneakers drumming rhythmically against the dust ruffle. Christy-Lynn eased down beside her, a small velvet box tied with silver ribbon in her lap.
Poor thing. She still looked a bit shell-shocked, as if afraid this new world might evaporate at any moment. And why shouldn’t she be afraid? When she’d just been whisked away from everything she had ever known. If anyone knew what that felt like, it was Christy-Lynn. But she also knew she could change that for Iris, and she would.
Wade stood watching from the doorway, a shoulder pressed against the jamb. He smiled as Christy-Lynn caught his eye, shooting her a wink that sent a ripple of warmth and gratitude through her. She hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but then she never expected to be sitting in a pink bedroom with a three-year-old gazing up at her.
“I have a present for you, Iris,” she said softly, holding out the box.
Iris continued to stare, her violet eyes wide pools of uncertainty.
“Would you like me to open it for you?”
Iris nodded then ducked her head, as if suddenly shy.
Christy-Lynn’s hands shook as she tugged the ribbon free, then lifted the lid of the box.
Iris’s eyes shot even wider as she caught a glimpse of what lay inside—a pair of silver necklaces that when fitted together formed a single shiny heart. But a crease suddenly appeared between her pale brows, her gaze shifting from the box to Christy-Lynn.
“It’s broken.”
“Oh no, baby—look.” Christy-Lynn lifted out both necklaces, placing them side by side in her palm. “They’re part of the same thing—two pieces of the same heart. There’s one for you and one for me. I’ll put yours on if you hold up your hair.”
Iris stared at the necklaces with a kind of wonder, then fumbled to rake her hair out of the way, holding very still as Christy-Lynn snaked the silver chain around her neck and fastened it.
“Good girl. Now I’ll do mine.”
On cue Wade stepped in, taking the remaining necklace from her hand. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to clasp it. Christy-Lynn grinned at Iris, then pointed to the mirror over the dresser.
“See—we match.”
Iris gazed at her reflection with enormous eyes, mesmerized as she stroked the necklace at the base of her throat. After a moment, she turned to Christy-Lynn. “Match.”
“Yes. You have one half, and I have the other. Because from now on, you’re going to be a part of my heart. And I hope that one day I’ll be a part of yours.”
Iris seemed to weigh what this might mean, her little brow puckered. Finally, she cocked her head to one side, regarding Christy-Lynn quizzically. “Are you my mama now? My real mama?”
Christy-Lynn blinked down at her, not sure how to answer, or if she’d even be able to find her voice. “Would you like that?”
Iris nodded, but her tiny face was clouded with questions. “Will you still be my angel if you’re my mama? Nonny says God sent you to take care of me.”
Christy-Lynn couldn’t help thinking of the dreams that had once plagued her almost nightly—dreams that hadn’t returned since she agreed to take Iris—and wondered if Rhetta had been mistaken.
“I think Nonny got it backwards, sweetie. I think I’m the one who needed taking care of, and now here you are, my own little angel—just like a dream.”
There was no warning, no time to brace for impact before Iris launched herself full force into Christy-Lynn, clinging so tightly that it was impossible to say who was hanging on to whom. But suddenly it didn’t matter. Suddenly it felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if this child had somehow always been a part of her life.
Peering over Iris’s blonde head, she found Wade again in the doorway, her heart full as their eyes locked. She’d been living with nevers for far too long, holding happiness at bay with both hands. But now there was Iris. And Wade.
It seemed never had come after all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
> No book is written in a vacuum. There’s always a long list of people to thank, ranging from the professionals whose job it is to get a book on the shelves or onto your Kindle, to the helpful contacts who aid us in research, to the loved ones who feed us, make sure there are clean clothes, and otherwise sustain us throughout the process. And so, I will begin my list, praying as always that I don’t forget anyone.
As with all my writing projects, there is one person without whom a finished book would never come into being. Her name is Nalini Akolekar of Spencerhill Literary Agency, and she is without a doubt the best agent in the biz. Thank you for all of it: for the books, for the journey, for the guidance, for the smarts, and for the support!
To my amazing editors, Jodi Warshaw and Charlotte Herscher, thank you for believing in this book and helping me get the best version of it out onto the page. And what can I say about the rest of the Lake Union Publishing team, except every good thing I’ve ever heard is true. Your ongoing commitment to authors makes it a true pleasure to be a Lake Union author. I couldn’t be more thrilled to be part of this amazing team of writers and professionals!
To my brothers and sisters of the pen scattered all over the country: Barbara Claypole White, Diane Chamberlain, Laura Spinella, Kim Boykin, Karen White, Terry-Lynn Thomas, Normandie Ward Fisher, Heather Webb, Anita Hughes, Bernie Brown, Matt King, Doug Simpson, Lisa Cameron Rosen, Mitch Richmond, Michelle Hicks, Sheryl Cornett, and so many more, who are never too busy to read, critique, encourage, hand hold, council, blurb, and otherwise prop up a writer in need—my deepest love and gratitude. You will never know what your friendship and support mean to me.
To the real Melissa (Missy) Beck, Queenie Peterson, Dar Setters, Carol Boyer, and Doug Simpson, whose names I lovingly borrowed for several of the characters in this book, many thanks for the special place each of you hold in my heart.
To Pat Crawford, mother extraordinaire and world’s greatest cheerleader, thank you for your faith in me, for your wonderful example, and for every word of encouragement you’ve sent my way along this journey. I can’t begin to tell you how often you’ve kept me going when I wasn’t sure I could get it all done. Love you. Love you. Love you gobs!
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