To Find Her Place

by Susan Anne Mason

  He narrowed his eyes. “A single working woman who looks after her ailing mother? That doesn’t sound like it would fit the requirements.”

  Heat crept into her cheeks, but she jutted out her chin, refusing to admit anything.

  “Ah. I see.” He leaned closer. “You filled out those forms and approved them yourself. If that’s not a breach of the rules, I don’t know what is.”

  “That’s not true. I—no, we—were approved. Donald and I, while we were still married.”

  The kettle whistled. She pushed up from the table, clamping her teeth together to keep from growling at him as he shook his head. “And besides, Martin is perfectly safe here. You know that. No one cares about him more than I do.”

  He threw out his hands. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem. As acting directress, it’s critical you remain objective. But you can’t be objective where Martin is concerned.”

  She took the kettle off the stove and poured the water into the teapot. Her hands shook, sloshing water over the side of the pot.

  “Jane.” His quiet voice cut through her. “I have a meeting with the board of management on Monday. They want an update on my findings so far.” He came to stand beside her, his brow puckered. “I . . . what am I going to tell them about this?”

  Her head whipped up, fear coiling in her belly. “Why do you have to tell them anything?” She hated the note of pleading in her voice. “This is just a temporary measure. No harm is being done.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He stepped closer. “You didn’t want Martin getting attached to the dog. How is it fair to let Martin get attached to you?”

  She gasped, his words slamming through her, the truth convicting her. She did want Martin to get attached to her, to love her as much as she loved him. But how was that fair to him when she couldn’t give him the home he deserved? Even if she applied to adopt Martin, the board would never allow it. In all her time at the Children’s Aid, she couldn’t recall a single instance when Mr. Mills had ever granted custody to an unmarried person. And with her as directress, it put her in an even more tenuous position. No, they would laugh her right out of the boardroom.

  Still, there was nothing she could do about it tonight, and it was pointless to keep hashing it over with Garrett. She steeled herself against his knowing gaze. “I have nothing more to say. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Fine. But I’m going to talk to my parents, and if they agree, I’ll have them fill out the paperwork for temporary guardianship.” He stopped by the kitchen door. “And for the record, I intend to sit in on the interviews with the foster parents when you meet with them. I believe an objective second opinion is in order.” He gave her a long look, then walked out the door.

  All the air seemed to seep from her lungs, then almost immediately a hot burst of anger rushed in to fill the space. Couldn’t he see what an impossible situation she was in?

  And why did his disapproval sting so much?

  She gritted her teeth as she stirred sugar into Mama’s tea. Tonight, she would have to spend a lot of time on her knees praying for clarity for herself and for Martin, because it appeared that only divine intervention could help her out of this mess.

  20

  On Monday, Jane read over Mr. and Mrs. Wilder’s application for the third time, unable to find anything out of the ordinary, no matter how much she wished she could. Garrett had beaten her to the office this morning and left the forms on her desk before he’d headed out to the board meeting. She picked up the rubber stamp and rolled it between her fingers. As soon as she stamped the application approved, she’d lose Martin.

  She let out a sigh. Having the boy under her roof for the weekend had been such a gift. He’d slept in Brandon’s room, across the hall from her, and for the first time in ages, the tight grip of loneliness in her chest had eased. Ever since her mother’s health had deteriorated, Mama slept downstairs in the dining room, which they’d converted into a bedroom for her, so she didn’t have to climb the stairs. Jane never admitted it, but she’d always felt rather isolated on the second story. Knowing Martin was across the hall had been a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. And the boy had been a definite blessing for Mama, keeping her company and giving her an infusion of new energy.

  Still, Jane understood that living on the Wilders’ farm would be a better fit for the boy. He would have Garrett’s nephews to play with, the fresh country air, and the animals that he adored. An experience he would remember for the rest of his life.

  For Martin’s sake, she had to do the unselfish thing. She pressed the rubber into the ink and stamped her approval on the application as well as the carbon copies.

  When Garrett returned from his meeting, she could tell him the good news.

  She put the stamp away in her drawer with a sigh. If the news was so good, why did she feel so terrible? She swiped away a tear with a determined slash, questioning once again the prudence of remaining in her job here. How much sadness could her soul take, seeing so many children in need of loving homes and never being allowed to adopt a child of her own?

  Was it some sick form of self-torture to stay here?

  Perhaps she should follow Donald’s example and make a complete change in her life. Start over, do something completely new, though nothing as drastic as joining the army or marrying someone else. If only she had any inkling of what that could be. The Children’s Aid was all she’d ever known.

  A quick knock preceded Garrett into her office. “Hello, Jane. Have you had a chance to go over my parents’ application?”

  He was wearing a full three-piece suit with a brass-buttoned vest and a crisp white handkerchief in his front pocket that matched his shirt. His hair, which often seemed a bit disheveled after he’d run his fingers through it, now sat perfectly groomed off his forehead, highlighting those amazing eyes.

  Her pulse began an unsteady gallop. “I have.” She handed him the papers. “If your parents are ready, you can take Martin to the farm tonight.”

  He fingered the sheets, his gaze trained on her with microscopic intensity.

  She swiveled in her chair to open one of the credenza drawers and pretended to search for a file. Anything to keep him from seeing how much this was hurting her.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” he asked, his voice gentle. “My mother said to invite you for dinner. Perhaps it will make the transition a little easier for everyone.”

  For her, he meant. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Blindly, she pulled a folder out of the drawer and turned back to her desk. “Thank you, but I don’t think so.”

  “Jane.”

  She squared her shoulders. “It’s better to make a clean break.”

  “What about Martin? Do you want him to sense you’re not in favor of this move?”

  She whipped her head up. “I didn’t say I’m not in favor of it. I know living on the farm will be wonderful for him. It’s just . . . hard.” She ducked her head and picked up a pen.

  “My mother’s chicken and dumplings might make it a bit more bearable.” He wiggled his brows at her, one dimple winking out.

  She stared at him. Why was he being so nice? Was he feeling guilty about something else? “You didn’t tell the board about Martin or about my divorce, did you?” Her voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper.

  His smile disappeared. “No. When I got here this morning, I didn’t feel ready for the meeting. I decided I wanted more time to determine Bolton’s part in the financial discrepancies. So I called and postponed our meeting for a couple of weeks.” He gave her a pointed look. “By then I assume Martin’s situation will be settled.”

  Relief flooded through her. She got the distinct feeling that he’d postponed the meeting more for her sake than for the Mr. Bolton situation. She nodded, pressing her lips together to contain her emotions that were too near the surface. “Can I think about dinner?”

  “Sure. Mom always cooks enough for ten people, s
o it won’t be a problem.” He folded his parents’ copy of the approved application and shoved it inside his jacket. “I’ll be by for Martin around five o’clock. You can let me know then.”

  With the barest of smiles, he left the room.

  Jane sagged back against her chair, the energy draining from her. She almost wished Garrett wouldn’t be so noble, that he’d stayed the interloper in her mind. Because lately he was becoming far too appealing to resist. Even if they weren’t co-workers who would eventually be vying for the same job, a future with Garrett wasn’t possible. He deserved someone unblemished by life. Someone fresh and pure. Not a divorcée who couldn’t give him the children he deserved. She slid her glasses back in place and focused back on her work.

  Nothing could be gained by indulging in some romantic fantasy.

  Her heart wouldn’t survive if she did.

  “Really?” Martin’s brown eyes sparkled. “I can go and stay at Mr. Wilder’s farm?”

  Jane had expected excitement, yet it still stung that Martin was so eager to leave. She held her tight smile in place. “For now, yes. Just for a few weeks until we make other arrangements.” She didn’t want him to think he could stay there permanently.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Soon. But first we need to have a talk.” Jane motioned for him to sit beside her on the sofa. Mama was taking a nap, so this was the perfect time to address the incident at the shelter.

  He must have sensed what was to come because he sat perfectly still, his head bent.

  “I need you to understand that your behavior at the shelter was totally unacceptable and that Mrs. Shaughnessy had every right to ask you to leave.”

  His gaze remained glued to his knees.

  “Even if the older boys taunt you and try to provoke you, you have to learn to ignore them.”

  “I don’t like it when they laugh at me,” Martin said so quietly Jane could barely make it out.

  “I understand that laughing at someone is hurtful. Mrs. Shaughnessy has spoken to the other children very sternly about it. But that doesn’t make it okay for you to destroy the toys and threaten them with a bat.”

  Martin lowered his chin to his chest.

  “You only ended up . . . hurting yourself.” She almost said causing a seizure, but she didn’t want him to be worried that any time he got upset it could happen again.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Linder.”

  “I accept your apology. And I trust you will remember this conversation when you’re at the farm. Mr. and Mrs. Wilder are very nice people, but they won’t put up with bad behavior either. You will have to get along with the other children in the house and be as helpful as you can.”

  “I will, Mrs. Linder. I promise.” His fearful gaze flicked up to hers.

  Jane had to hold herself in check at his remorseful expression and not give in to the urge to hug him. She couldn’t reward bad behavior, no matter how much she wanted to. Even allowing him to go to the farm almost seemed like a gift.

  “Mr. Wilder will be here soon,” she said. “Do you need help getting your things ready?”

  “No, thanks. It won’t take long.” With that he scampered out of the room and up the stairs, his feet thumping loudly on the carpeted runner.

  Jane shook her head with a bemused chuckle. Despite her sadness at their impending separation, she couldn’t help but be happy for him. Martin would thrive on the farm, she was certain. Maybe it would give him a better idea of what a true family looked like.

  As Jane got up from the sofa, her mother came into the living room.

  “Mama, did you have a good rest?”

  “Yes, I did.” She took a seat in her chair and picked up her knitting.

  “What would you like for dinner? There’s some leftover stew from yesterday.”

  Her mother looked over. “It’s the church potluck tonight, remember? Mrs. Peters is picking me up at six. That’s why I made sure to have a rest.”

  “Oh. It slipped my mind completely.” Jane bit her lip. In all the uproar with her job lately, had she been neglecting her mother? She should have made something for her mother to take with her to the church.

  “Why don’t you come with us, dear? There might be some nice young men bringing their mothers.” Mama winked.

  “Really, Mama. Will you ever stop trying to marry me off again?” Jane gathered the few dirty dishes from her mother’s lunch and swept a glance over the rest of the room, its faded charm a testament to her childhood. She should think about doing some redecorating. Something simple that wouldn’t cost too much.

  “Not until I see you happy and settled with a family of your own.”

  “You are all the family I need.” She dropped a kiss on top of her mother’s head.

  “And Brandon, when he returns.” Her mother gave her a sharp look. “Don’t count him out yet, Janey. He’s strong and tough. He’ll come back to us.”

  “I pray you’re right, Mama. I really do.” At least her mother’s attitude had become more positive.

  She carried the dishes to the kitchen and set them in the sink. Then she opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Judging by the sparse interior, she would need to make a trip to the market soon.

  The doorbell rang. Jane ran a hand over the printed dress she’d changed into after work. Perhaps she should accept Mrs. Wilder’s dinner invitation. It would be better than moping around the empty house, missing Martin’s chatter.

  As she headed down the hall, footsteps pounded from upstairs, and the eager boy beat her to the door.

  “Hello, Martin.” Garrett stepped into the hallway.

  “Mr. Wilder! I can’t believe I get to come and stay on the farm.”

  Garrett ruffled the boy’s hair. “My family is looking forward to having you. Especially my nephews.” He lifted his head, and his gaze met Jane’s. “Are you going to join us for dinner?”

  Jane did her best to ignore the leap of her pulse. “Since Mama’s busy at the church tonight, I’d be pleased to accept your mother’s invitation.”

  His smile widened. “That’s great.” He looked over at Martin. “Do you have a bag I can carry out for you?”

  “It’s by the stairs. I’ll get it.” He raced off before anyone could move.

  Jane reached for her jacket on the coatrack, and immediately Garrett moved to help her. “I must warn you about something.” His breath tickled the hair by her ear.

  “Oh?” she said, trying to keep the heat from rising in her cheeks.

  “I have a surprise for Martin.” He gave a sheepish shrug.

  “A surprise for me?” Martin appeared, lugging his small suitcase.

  “That’s right.” Garrett grinned, looking like a mischievous boy himself. “It’s in the car.”

  Jane didn’t know who was more excited, Garrett or Martin. “Let’s say good-bye to my mother first.”

  Martin rushed into the living room. “Good-bye, Mrs. Mitchell. It was great playing checkers with you. And learning that song on the piano.”

  Mama smiled at him. “You have fun on the farm and be careful. Mind Mr. and Mrs. Wilder.”

  “I will.”

  “Have a good time at the potluck, Mama.” Jane bent to kiss her cheek. “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “Enjoy yourself, dear. And please give my best to Sarah and Ben.”

  By the time Jane got her purse and made her way outside, Martin was huddled in the back seat of Garrett’s car. A large black dog lay on the seat beside him, a bandage wrapped around one back leg.

  Jane folded her arms and shot an annoyed look at Garrett on the sidewalk.

  Garrett came over and laid a hand on her shoulder, his eyes earnest. “They couldn’t find the owner, so I’m taking the dog. At least Martin will know Blackie has a good home.”

  Jane watched the dog lick Martin’s hand and pushed back a wisp of envy. Garrett was giving Martin everything she’d always hoped to—a home, a family, and a pet, even if only on a temporary basis. Was it terrible to
wish that she could be the one to provide him with such happiness?

  With a sigh, she rounded the car. The only thing that mattered was Martin’s well-being. He would enjoy living on the farm, and it would give Jane time to find him the permanent home he deserved.

  She needed to focus on that and be grateful for God’s small mercies.

  Later that night, Garrett stood in the shadows of his parents’ porch, observing the kids as they introduced Jett and Blackie. He’d decided to delay the meeting until after dinner, keeping Jett outside while Blackie got accustomed to the house and the new people. Blackie had lain on a blanket in the corner of the kitchen while they ate, and when he seemed perfectly at ease, they decided to see how the two dogs would get on.

  In typical Jett fashion, the border collie raced in circles around the injured lab. Blackie laid on the grass, his tongue lolling, watching Kevin and Dale run after Jett. Martin stayed by Blackie’s side, his arm draped across the animal’s back.

  Garrett worried that all the chaos might be too much for the older dog, but Blackie seemed to be taking it all in stride.

  Jane came out the screen door and joined him by the railing. “They certainly are having fun.”

  Her wistful tone made Garrett take a closer look. A definite aura of sadness surrounded her, evident in the downturn of those full lips and the bow of her shoulders.

  “He’s going to be fine. You’re doing the right thing.”

  She shook her head, her attention still trained on Martin. “Then why does it feel so terrible?”

  The urge to comfort her proved too strong, and since they weren’t at work, he indulged his impulse to put an arm around her and pull her close. “You’re welcome to come and visit him anytime. Mom and Dad would love to have you. They think you’re pretty special, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  She gave a quiet sniff. “I like them too.”

  “For the record,” he said, “I think you’re pretty special as well.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide and damp.