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A Father's Promise

Page 8

by Mindy Obenhaus


  “Yes. Though I’m not sure to what extent.”

  “Then there you go. I Skype with my clients all the time. So it won’t be as though you’re disappearing from her life.”

  He ran his fingers over the stubble that lined his chin. “I hadn’t thought of that.” A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, erasing the lines that had creased his forehead as he knelt beside his daughter and reached for her hand. “Technology isn’t necessarily my forte, but I’m willing to learn. Because being able to see each other would certainly make our time apart easier.” His eyes never left his daughter. “And I can continue to see her while I’m here.” He hesitated then. Standing again, he looked at Laurel. “If that’s okay with you.”

  Her daughter was being granted the one thing Laurel had always wanted—a father who loved her and wanted to be with her. So what else could she say?

  “Fine by me.” However, given the sudden condition of her heart, his leaving might end up being harder on her than she ever imagined.

  * * *

  Wes felt better knowing that he and Sarah-Jane would still be able to see each other while he was in Iraq. Even if it was on a computer screen, that was better than nothing. What he couldn’t understand, though, was why Laurel would think he wasn’t coming back when his year was up. Granted, living in Bliss, Texas, had never blipped on his radar before, but then, he’d never planned to have children, either. However, now that he knew about Sarah-Jane, wild horses couldn’t keep him away.

  Why would Laurel question that? Even if he still couldn’t see himself with a wife and kids, what’s done was done. He wouldn’t turn his back on his daughter. He’d just have to accept that God had a different plan for his life and then try to be the best father Sarah-Jane could ask for.

  In the parking lot of Bliss’s lone grocery store, he loaded plastic bags into the back seat of his truck, suddenly curious about Laurel’s father. While he’d heard her mention her mother and grandmother before, there hadn’t been a word about her father. And since it had been Laurel’s grandmother who had raised her after her mother died, Wes couldn’t help wondering what the story was with her father.

  Sarah-Jane and I have done just fine without you.

  He closed the door, recalling the determination in Laurel’s voice that night Wes had tried to explain his trepidation over being Sarah-Jane’s father. Could the absence of her father have been why Laurel had reacted so strongly?

  The only way Wes would ever know was to ask her. Yet while they’d been honest with each other regarding their individual concerns about his future with Sarah-Jane this afternoon, asking Laurel about her father could threaten their fragile friendship.

  With his groceries loaded, he climbed behind the wheel and headed back to Laurel’s. After a couple of hours at Founder’s Knoll, Sarah-Jane had become grumpy. The kind of grumpy no amount of snacks could appease, a good indicator that she was ready for a nap, according to Laurel. After returning to her place, Wes discovered a great backyard complete with a deck and grill. Considering what a beautiful day it had been, he offered to grill some steaks for dinner and was pleased when Laurel not only said yes, but that it gave her an excuse to make that dewberry cobbler she’d talked about. He was curious to try it, despite his less-than-favorable opinion of the fruit.

  So, while Sarah-Jane napped, Laurel called Rae to invite her to join them, and Wes headed to the store for rib-eye steaks, potatoes for baking, salad and some vanilla ice cream to go with the cobbler. Now, as he returned to Laurel’s, he hoped he could find a way to get her to open up about her father—without her shutting down or ending up mad at him.

  Lord, You’ve granted me a precious gift in the form of Sarah-Jane. Please don’t let me do or say anything that might hurt her mother.

  “These are some nice-looking steaks,” Laurel said as she removed them from the bag in her kitchen a short time later. “What type of seasoning do you use?” She opened the stainless steel refrigerator and set them inside.

  “A little bit of salt, some pepper and a touch of garlic powder.” He set the large baking potatoes on the marble counter. “Just enough to bring out the flavor of the meat, not cover it up.”

  Smiling, she rested her hip against the counter, watching him as he unloaded sour cream, cheese and bacon bits for the potatoes. “Sounds like you’ve done this a time or two.”

  “What can I say? I appreciate a good steak.”

  “I’m sure the cattle ranchers of Bliss will thank you for that.” A slight noise drew her attention to the video monitor sitting on the opposite counter.

  He turned toward the small screen, watching his daughter rouse from her slumber. “That’s a pretty cool gadget you’ve got there.”

  “I know, I love it. Saves me from having to guess what she’s doing in there or disturbing her by trying to sneak a peek.” As she spoke, Sarah-Jane moved to her knees, then pulled up on the side of the crib. “Guess I’d better go get her.”

  He gathered up the items that needed to go into the fridge. “I’ll be checking on the grill to see if it needs to be cleaned. When was the last time you used it?”

  Her face contorted as she thought. “New Year’s Eve, when Rae, Christa, Paisley and I rang in the new year.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was.” Smiling, she headed down the hall.

  After depositing the items in the refrigerator, he made his way onto the wooden deck that overlooked a decent-size backyard with a lush lawn. A couple of well-established trees sat near the back of the property, their deep green leaves dancing in the slightest of breezes. Man, it was a beautiful day. One you wanted to set on repeat to play over and over.

  A sweet fragrance touched his nose then, drawing his attention to the wisteria-covered fence on the other side of the driveway. The vines dripped with clusters of purple flowers in a spectacular show of color.

  Lifting the lid on the gas grill, he noticed the wire brush dangling from a hook. One glance at the grates told him he was definitely going to need that. He’d just started scrubbing when the back door opened, and Laurel emerged holding Sarah-Jane.

  “Somebody’s in a very good mood.” A smile lit Laurel’s gray-green eyes as she stood the child in front of her, keeping hold of her hand.

  Wes knelt opposite his daughter. “Did you have a good nap, Sarah-Jane?”

  She smiled and bounced. Seconds later, she let go of Laurel’s finger and took a step.

  Laurel’s quick intake of air was hard to miss as she watched her little girl.

  Still kneeling, Wes stretched his hands toward Sarah-Jane. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.”

  She stepped once more, then bobbled, but caught herself before continuing. Several steps later, she collapsed into Wes’s waiting arms.

  “You did it, Sarah-Jane!” He hugged her tight, pride weaving through him.

  “I can’t believe it.” Laurel pressed a hand to her cheek. “That’s more steps than she’s ever taken. She was actually walking all by herself.”

  “I guess you just had to strengthen up those legs, didn’t you, Sarah-Jane?” Still holding his daughter, he stood.

  “Or have the right motivation.”

  He looked at Laurel to find her smiling as she approached.

  She took hold of her daughter’s hand. “Were you showing off for your daddy?” Laurel froze then and so did he.

  Their eyes met.

  “I—I’m sorry.” She took a step back. “That just kind of slipped out.”

  “No, it’s okay.” He smoothed a hand over his daughter’s back. “Daddy is a distinction I will wear proudly.” But could Laurel say the same about her father?

  She started to turn away.

  “Laurel?”

  “Yes?” She faced him again.

  Suddenly he was nervous. This wonderful moment could be blown to smithereens if he put his
foot in his mouth again.

  Lord, help me get this right.

  “You’ve told me a little bit about your mother and your grandmother. But what about your father?”

  Her eyes seemed to search his before falling to the weathered boards beneath their feet. And when she wrapped her arms around herself, he wished he hadn’t brought it up.

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to—”

  “He went to jail when I was a little younger than Sarah-Jane.” She rubbed her arms now. “It was only supposed to be for six months, but he didn’t come back for us. My mom and I, we never saw him again.”

  He didn’t come back for us. Those six words hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder she had such concerns about Wes leaving. She was convinced he was going to do the same thing. Leave and never come back for Sarah-Jane.

  In two steps, he closed the distance between them, determined to make her understand that he was not like her father. “Laurel, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried like that.”

  “It’s fine, Wes. You weren’t prying.”

  He looked at the child he still held in his arms. “I promise you right here and now, unless the good Lord decides to take me home, I will be back. Sarah-Jane is my daughter. And while the role of father may be one I was hesitant to take on, I would never turn my back on my own flesh and blood. The love I feel for her is something I still can’t fathom, but it’s there and it’s strong and it’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

  Lips pursed, she smiled, nodding repeatedly. She didn’t believe him. And, unfortunately, it would be a year before he could prove himself, which meant he’d have to work all the harder now to convince her that he was a man of his word. But that was proving to be more difficult with each and every day, because keeping his word to Servant’s Heart meant stepping away from the most important role of his life. And that might prove to be the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

  Chapter Eight

  For the life of her, Laurel couldn’t figure out why she’d told Wes about her father. That was so not like her to open up to someone she barely knew, yet she seemed to do it over and over—first in Vegas, and then yesterday. Just because he’d asked about her father didn’t mean she had to tell him. But did that stop her? Not one bit.

  The love I feel for her is something I still can’t fathom, but it’s there and it’s strong and it’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  Even now as she sat in the sanctuary of Bliss Community Church, those words brought tears to her eyes. And while they could be just that—words—the depth of sincerity in Wes’s voice and his expression had told her that Sarah-Jane was one blessed little girl. A little girl who was now walking. Laurel still couldn’t believe it.

  If only she hadn’t referred to Wes as daddy. Even though it may be true, there was something about saying it out loud that had felt rather intimate, like a term of endearment shared between a couple. Something she and Wes definitely were not. Instead, they were barely friends. Not that there weren’t times when she wondered what it might be like if they were more.

  Like right now as she sat in the pew, wedged between him and Rae during Sunday morning worship service.

  She surreptitiously glanced his way, taking in the sound of his baritone voice as he sang, the scent of soap and raw masculinity, and the blue plaid shirt that matched his eyes... To top it all off, the man was oblivious to how attractive he really was, which made him even more appealing. Yet while she’d admittedly allowed herself to fall for him once, she couldn’t afford to do it again. Not when it meant she could get hurt. While Wes might be accepting of his daughter, Laurel and Sarah-Jane weren’t a package deal. And if her parents had taught her anything, it was that Laurel was disposable.

  “I like that pastor.” Wes followed Laurel and Rae out of the sanctuary after the service and into the long hallway that led to classrooms and the fellowship hall. “He’s not all flowery and doesn’t try to impress everyone with his knowledge. He just tells it like it is.”

  Even though Laurel’s mind had been too preoccupied to listen to the sermon, she agreed wholeheartedly. Bliss Community was not the first church she’d visited when she arrived, but it was where she’d felt at home.

  “One of many reasons we will do whatever is needed to keep Pastor Kleinschmidt around,” said Rae.

  “Rae!”

  All three of them turned to see Anita McWhorter hurrying to catch up. The woman in her midforties with short sandy-colored hair pulled some papers from her Bible. “Here’s that information I promised you about becoming a foster parent.”

  Rae, who was in her early forties and had never had children, smiled as she accepted the papers. “Oh, good. I’ve got a couple of questions I’d like to ask you, though. Have you got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Rae glanced at Wes and Laurel. “You two grab Sarah-Jane. I’ll catch up.”

  Wes leaned toward Laurel as they again moved down the hallway. “Foster parent?”

  “Yes. There’s a huge need right now.” Something that always broke Laurel’s heart. If she didn’t legally name a guardian for Sarah-Jane and something happened to Laurel, her daughter would be one of those kids. Unfortunately, between the accident and Wes’s sudden appearance, she had yet to take action.

  “But why would Rae want to do that?”

  Stopping, Laurel looked up at him curiously. “Because she loves kids. She’s a born nurturer, and since she never had any children of her own...”

  He glanced back at his sister with a fondness Laurel hadn’t seen before. “Rae is definitely a nurturer. Yet that louse of a husband she had never wanted kids.” His gaze shifted to Laurel. “At least, not with her.”

  That was obviously a reference to the fact that Rae’s ex had married his pregnant mistress and then gone on to father two more children with her.

  “Well, from what I’ve been able to gather,” said Laurel, “she’s better off without him.”

  “That’s for sure.” The corners of Wes’s mouth tipped upward as they started walking again. “I guess this foster thing is why she’s so eager to get her apartment fixed up.”

  “Probably.”

  The sounds of children at play drifted into the hall as they approached the nursery. One of the workers was holding Sarah-Jane when they stopped outside the brightly colored room. As always, Sarah-Jane’s smile was wide as she reached for Laurel.

  “Here’s her diaper bag.” The worker passed it over the half door.

  “I can take that.” Wes reached for the backpack.

  “Say goodbye, Sarah-Jane.” Laurel encouraged the child to wave, but Sarah-Jane wasn’t having any part of it.

  With a final farewell, Laurel again started down the hallway and almost bumped into Pastor Kleinschmidt. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no, you’re the one with the baby,” said the pastor. “I simply wasn’t watching where I was going.” The balding man in his late fifties turned his attention to Wes. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Ron Kleinschmidt.”

  “Where are my manners?” Laurel looked from one man to the next. “Pastor, this is Wes Bishop. He’s—” She saw the way the pastor’s eyes shifted from Wes to Sarah-Jane. Was this the right time to introduce Wes as Sarah-Jane’s father? After all, Bliss was a small town. And while the pastor may not talk, if anyone else overheard... “—Rae’s brother.”

  “Oh yes.” The pastor shook Wes’s hand. “Rae told me you were going to be in town for a few weeks. I also hear you’re taking care of the repairs over at Irma’s.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wes looked from the pastor to her. “Though it’s Laurel who’s calling the shots.”

  Pastor Kleinschmidt’s gaze homed in on Wes. “Rae mentioned that you’d accepted a job with a mission organization in Iraq.”

  “Servant’s Heart, yes. I’ll be working on some reb
uilding projects.” He slung Sarah-Jane’s pack over one shoulder. “Having served over there, it’ll be nice to aid the Iraqi people in a less intimidating capacity.”

  “Well, the church will certainly keep you in our prayers.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that, sir.”

  Sarah-Jane chose that moment to start fussing. She rubbed her eyes.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready for a nap.” The pastor patted the child on the back.

  “Probably.” Laurel finger combed her daughter’s hair to one side. “She had a lot of excitement yesterday.” Her gaze inadvertently drifted to Wes. “She took her first steps.”

  “Uh-oh.” The pastor’s expression turned serious. “If you thought you were busy before...”

  “Trust me, I’ve already thought about that.” She shifted her daughter to the other arm. “Come on, sweet pea. Let’s get you home.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Wes.” The pastor waved as they walked away.

  Wes held the door for Laurel as they continued outside.

  “Thank you.” A bird’s song carried on the gentle breeze as she stepped into the midday warmth. The weather was almost a carbon copy of yesterday’s, though perhaps with just a tad more humidity.

  Stopping, Wes faced her, his expression suddenly serious. “So, is that how it’s going to be, Laurel? I’m Sarah-Jane’s daddy behind closed doors, but in public I’m Rae’s brother?”

  Laurel’s whole being cringed as she recognized the hurt etched across his handsome face. While he’d been there to witness Sarah-Jane’s first steps, he hadn’t been able to share the joy when Laurel had talked about it because she’d been too busy worrying what someone else might think. Why hadn’t she considered Wes’s feelings?

  “Wes, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did, Laurel. I saw you hesitate. But I get it. This is new territory for both of us. Yet while I may be leaving for a year, I will be back. So you’d better get used to it.” He kissed Sarah-Jane’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

 

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