Mended Hearts (18 page)

Jeff withdrew his key ring and tossed Matt the house key. “Make yourself at home.”

“You've made up?” Hannah eyed both men, then turned her attention to Jeff. “You're being nice to your brother?”

He shrugged, hating to make a big deal out of something he should have done long ago. “Family first, right?”

Hannah's smile bloomed. “Yes. Always.”

Matt headed toward the door. “See you guys.”

Jeff barely noticed, Hannah's smile drawing him closer. “I called you.”

She winced. “I know.”

“You were avoiding me.”

The wince turned into a grimace. “Yes. When I saw you with Callie, and knew you weren't being honest with her…” Her voice trailed off. She shrugged.

Jeff wanted to move closer, but he needed to say this, clear the air. “You assumed I was guilty and shut me out.”

She had, but for good reason, right?

One look at Jeff's face said no. “You were feeding Callie a line. We both know that.”

Jeff shook his head. “I was
walking
a thin line, yes, because I promised Matt to keep his deal confidential and I'd almost ruined it once. To make amends to my brother, I needed to honor his wishes.”

“His deal?” Hannah frowned, not understanding.

“Matt's about to close on Callie's father's subdivision.”

Cobbled Creek.

Hannah sighed, chagrined.

“So when I apologized to Matt and promised to stay out of his way—”

“And offered him a place to bunk…”

“Yes. I couldn't exactly be forthright with Callie because the deal is out of our hands and I didn't want to betray Matt.” This time he moved closer, his gaze saying something else. Something more. “But mostly I hated to see that disappointment in your eyes.”

And that was exactly how she'd felt that night, as if her knight in shining armor fell way short of his horse. She took a step forward, halving their distance. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you.”

Jeff closed the last little bit of distance, reached out and tipped her chin up. “Faith, hope and love.”

She wrinkled her brow.

“From this moment forward I want you to have faith in me and know it's well deserved.”

The thought of trusting him seemed amazingly right. “That sounds doable.”

He slipped one arm around her waist, drawing her in. “And I want to inspire hope in you, every single day. Hope for today and hope for tomorrow.”

Gentle words. Inspirational words. She tilted her head, wanting more. “And love?”

He smiled down at her, his gaze a promise. “That one's easy. I love you, Hannah, and I'll spend every day showing you that if you'll let me. Be my wife. Have my babies. Deal
with the sometimes crazy demands of my job. Can you do that, Han?” He swept her lips a gentle kiss that stretched into something deeper, more meaningful as long seconds ticked by. When he finally broke the kiss, he cradled her face between two strong hands, his gaze sincere. “Can you handle the way my job pulls me sometimes, because it's not likely to change.”

She met his gaze, leaned up and kissed him back. “Neither is mine, Jeff, so I'll ask you the same thing. Can you handle knowing that I'll be in that classroom day after day? And that sometimes you'll be on diaper duty because I'm doing test prep or science team practice?”

He laughed and hugged her close. “That's what grandmas are for, honey. Haven't you heard?”

The idea of Dana and Helen helping with their future children didn't sound bad at all. “That sounds like some good strategic planning to me.”

“Me, too.” Jeff settled one more sweet, long kiss to her mouth, then dropped to one knee. “I believe there's a proper way to finalize this deal.”

She smiled through watery eyes.

“Will you marry me? Be my wife? Deal with a stuffed-shirt corporate exec for the rest of your days?”

Nothing on God's green earth could make her happier. “Yes. And soon, please. I want to be your wife, savor every moment God gives us.”

Jeff grinned, rose and gave her one last kiss before they headed out the door. The rain had gentled to a cool mist, a welcome respite from the earlier torrent. “Then I suggest we head to my mother's, prove we're fine and make her day by letting her take over the details.”

Hannah squeezed his hand. “That's perfect, Jeff.”

“Of course it is.” He grinned, cocky and delightfully self-assured, but also sincere. “And then the scarecrows can move in together and live happily ever after.”

Hannah beamed up at him. “That will make Mrs. Scarecrow very happy.”

His answering grin said Mrs. Scarecrow wouldn't be the only one. Hannah blushed and ducked into her car. “I'll follow you, okay?”

He leaned in, gave her one last kiss and stepped back, his smile a blessing. “I couldn't ask for anything more, Hannah.”

“W
e don't have to go,” Jeff told Hannah the following Fourth of July, his expression reflecting his concern. Having glimpsed her face in the mirror, she didn't have to ask why, but…

No way was she about to stay home.

“Of course we have to go,” she told him, grabbing her bag and breathing slowly, hoping the maneuver worked. Sometimes it did, and sometimes, well… “It's the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the Farmers Free Library, the project that—” she stepped closer to him and swiped a gentle hand across the furrowed lines of his brow “—brought us together. We're not going to let a little thing like morning sickness keep us from it.”

“Are you sure?” He cupped her cheek with his palm, his gaze intent. “I could go and send your apologies. Everyone would understand.”

“Or I can go and stay far away from anything that smells like cooking meat, which shouldn't be a problem this morning. But the Independence Day Festival later…”

“We'll take a pass on,” Jeff announced. “You've got your crackers?”

She patted her bag.

“Ginger ale?”

“In the car.”

“All right.” He grasped her hand as they headed outside, then gently nudged her as they crossed the broad front porch. “You know people talk about us, don't you?”

“As well they should,” she quipped, pretending she didn't understand. “We're young, reasonably good-looking professionals, newly married and expecting our first child before the end of the year. We've given them a lot of things to consider.”

“I meant them.” Jeff pointed to the porch where a family of scarecrows made a cheerful appearance, their broomstick ends thrust into fresh bales of straw. “Shouldn't we put them away until fall?”

Hannah didn't have to feign surprise. “They're dressed appropriately, Jeff. I've seen to that. And I like seeing them there, all cute and funny in their cutoffs and tank tops. That little red-haired boy scarecrow is adorable, isn't he? Do you have any redheads in your family? Because I don't, but I always thought it would be fun to have a red-haired child.”

“People think we're weird because scarecrows are a traditional fall decoration.”

“People are silly. Farmers use scarecrows all summer long. Why can't we?”

He could have given a laundry list of reasons, but Jeff had learned the valued lesson of picking battles. With Hannah's morning sickness making these last couple of weeks distinctly uncomfortable, he'd let the scarecrow issue slide. He knew their summer garb only made the straw family seem like a bigger oddity to passersby, but if it made Hannah happy…

He sighed, patted her knee and pulled out of the drive, figuring the straw family could become permanent inhabitants as long as Hannah was happy.

They pulled into the already crowded grass lot sev
eral minutes later, the early July sun intense despite the morning hour.

“Over here, you two!” Cindy Pendleton, his grandmother's no-nonsense secretary, directed them to the front of the library where a big red, white and blue ribbon marked the holiday and the ceremonial reopening. “We need to get pictures for the paper and you guys are late.” One look at Hannah's face had Cindy shrugging an arm of comfort around Hannah's waist. “It gets better, I promise. Usually,” she added with her typical candor. “How far along are you?”

“Sixteen weeks.”

Cindy nodded. “It should ease up soon. I can't begin to tell you how excited your grandmother is. She's beside herself. Instead of work specs on her desk, I find baby catalogs. Online receipts for the myriad of things she's already ordered.”

“She's adorable.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Cindy sent Hannah a dubious look. “When all this stuff ends up at your door, remember that. I keep reminding her that babies really need two things—a mother and diapers—but she won't hear a thing I'm saying.”

“Then I'm glad we've got a four-bedroom house,” Jeff cut in. “And storage over the garage.”

Cindy placed them strategically with the rest of the fundraising committee and the local newspaper photographer snapped several pictures. Then they lined up Helen, Jeff and Hannah to do the ribbon cutting. “Jeff, you do it,” Helen insisted. “Hannah and I will flank you.”

“Nope.” He put the wide scissors into Hannah's hand and stepped aside. “You two do it together. If I'd had my way I wouldn't have been involved in any of this, and it's only your tenacity—” he sent a direct look to his grandmother “—and your courage—” he switched his gaze to his wife “—that got us here. So, ladies, smile for the camera….” They did, Hannah and Helen grasping the scissors together as a local
news crew caught the breaking ribbon on camera. “Let's open the doors so people can examine the fruits of their labors.”

Clean red brick had replaced worn vinyl siding. The library had nearly tripled in size, and while still small, it now housed the technology of big-city branches on a more minute scale. They moved inside; the new air-conditioning was a delightful respite from the summer sun. Cool drinks and coffee waited in the social room, a gathering spot in the new wing to the west of the building, the entire room paid for by a significant donation from the Fantigrossi family.

And at that very moment, both Dominics strode into the new facility. The professor pumped a few hands on the way, but young Dominic headed straight for Hannah. “Did you read my applications?”

She nodded. “Of course. They were fine, nothing less than I'd expect. And I like how you used your troubled times as your essay in two of them. It makes you sound real and college boards like kids who don't sound manufactured. I added my recommendation letters to each of them.”

He grimaced, then smiled. “I was
too
real for a while, that's for sure. But things are better now.”

“And your father's doing okay?”

Dominic nodded. “It's been rough since my stepmother left, but yeah. He's doing all right.”

“And you?”

He pumped out a breath, glanced around and gave her a firm nod. “I feel normal. I mean, I
think
I feel normal, but it took so long that I'm not even sure what normal is anymore. But I'm definitely doing better.”

Hannah had no trouble relating. “I understand completely.”

He smiled and it softened his young features. “I knew you would.”

A commotion at the door drew their attention. Hannah moved forward as Trent Michaels wheeled Jane Dinsmore into the foyer. Her look of delight downplayed the gravity
of her condition. A wig covered the aftereffects of her latest round of chemo. She beamed as Hannah and Jeff approached, then clasped Hannah's hands in hers in a gesture of respect and honor. “I've heard your good news, and while I'm quite fond of babies in the abstract having raised none of my own, I'm hoping you're modern enough to want to teach
and
have a family.” She squeezed Hannah's hands lightly. “The proper response to that is a simple
yes.
”

Hannah laughed and kissed the older woman's cheek. “Yes. We've got day care all lined up and since my schedule will coincide with the kids' schedules once they get older, it would be silly to stop doing what I love. As a teacher, I get the best of both worlds. A great profession and time with my kids.”

“I'm so glad, Hannah. And I wish I'd been here to see that first-place win in the state science championship,” Jane added.

Hannah waved toward young Dominic who was now stuffing his face full of cheese and crackers, looking wonderfully normal for a seventeen-year-old. “Dominic shored up our weak physics link. After that, it was a walk in the park.”

Jane's smile said she knew better, but she nodded toward Hannah's midsection. “Do we know if it's a boy or girl yet? And have you picked names?”

“Too early to know,” Jeff explained. He slipped an arm around Hannah's waist, letting her take the second question.

“If it's a boy, we're going to name him Jonas, after his great-grandfather.”

“Lovely.” Jane beamed and nodded. “Helen will be so pleased. And if it's a girl?”

Hannah exchanged a smile with Jeff and bent closer. “We'll call her Jane, after you, and we can only hope she'll grow up to be the kind of woman she's named for. Jane Alice Brennan.”

Quick tears filled Jane's eyes. “I don't know what to say. I'm overwhelmed.”

“Say you'll keep up the good fight so you can be around to see your namesake,” Jeff told her. “If it's a girl, of course.”

“I will.” She nodded, vigorous, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue Hannah provided. “And if it's a boy, I'll just stay healthy enough until we have a girl.”

Hannah crouched to Jane's wheelchair level, her smile forthright. “Your job is to get better and see what happens, because this is one experiment we have no control over.”

“So we let go and let God,” Jane offered, determined.

Hannah felt the warmth of Jeff's hand on her shoulder, the grace of new life within and the scope of opportunities she'd embraced by being pushed out of her comfort zone less than a year before. She smiled, her heart full, her soul content. “Amen.”