01_Gift from the Heart (16 page)

But they also came for personal reasons. To seek solace. And guidance. And grace. They came to share with the Lord their sorrows. Their joys. Their uncertainties. In other words, they came to pray. Not necessarily in a formal way. But in conversation. Or, as Reverend Nichols had so simply put it, they came to talk to the Lord.

Clare closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

Lord, please help me to know Your forgiveness. Please relieve me of the burden of my grief. Help me to fully and completely put my life in Your hands, confident that You will show me mercy and understand my sorrow and regret. I need to move on, Lord. I need to let go of the past. But I need Your help to do it, once and for all. Please help me, so that I can find the peace that comes from total surrender to Your will. And please help me as I make this last, most difficult part of my journey. Please be by my side.

She lingered for a few more minutes in the peaceful refuge, drawing strength from its tranquility. But finally she rose. It was time.

She made just one brief detour, at a florist, on the way to her final destination. She hadn’t mapped out this last leg of her trip, but even though she’d only been to the cemetery once, the route was etched indelibly on her mind.

As she slowly drove through the entrance, her last trip here came back with startling intensity. She recalled glancing out the window when the limo turned into the gates, noting the long line of cars behind her. The church had been packed, and apparently many had chosen to come to the graveside service, as well. A.J. and Morgan had sat on either side of her, gripping her hands tightly throughout the service and now, again, in the car. They hadn’t spoken much. But their very presence, and the look in their eyes, had told her how much they cared, how deeply they grieved for her. She couldn’t have made it through those terrible days without her sisters.

Clare pulled to a stop at the curb and reached for the flowers. She recognized the headstone, about twenty yards away, from the picture in the catalogue at the monument company. Slowly she got out of the car and forced her feet to move toward it. As she approached, the names on the stone gradually came into focus. Seeing them etched in granite, so permanent, so final, caused her breath to lodge in her throat, making it difficult to breath.

The words began to swim before Clare’s eyes, and she sank to her knees beside the headstone, then dropped back on her heels. Unsteadily she reached over and let her fingers run lightly over the names, feeling the ridges and the valleys of the letters and the smooth, polished granite in between. The afternoon sun beat down on the back of her head and threw the letters into relief, each name casting a shadow that extended beyond the actual letters. Just as their lives extended beyond the grave, she thought. Dennis and David would always live in her heart, in a special place reserved only for them, cherished and loved for all time. And they would always live in heaven, in the loving care of the Lord.

Clare let one hand rest on top of the headstone, and with the other she reached for the flowers she’d set on the ground beside her. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, but she made no attempt to stop them. Not this time. Carefully she laid a red rose, then a yellow one, on the grave. One for love, one to say she would never forget them. The age-old language of flowers.

“I came today to say goodbye,” she whispered, her voice choked. “And to say I’m sorry. To ask your forgiveness. To tell you that there hasn’t been one day in the past three years that I didn’t wish I could turn back the clock and make a different decision. I miss you both so much! When you left, the sunlight went out of my world. Everything turned dark, and I lost my way. I existed, but I didn’t live. I knew that wasn’t what God wanted for me, but I couldn’t find my way back to the light.”

Her voice caught on a sob, and she took a steadying breath. “Then, through Aunt Jo, God gave me a job to do. I’ve been trying to help a father and daughter create the kind of family we had. And I think I’ve succeeded. But something else happened along the way. I began to realize that I wanted to be part of their family. I knew I couldn’t do that, though, until I made my peace with you. And until I grieved. That’s why I came today. To tell you how much I love you. How much I’ll always love you. And to tell you that just because I want to let other people into my heart, they will never take your place. There’s a special spot that will always be reserved just for you.”

She rested her cheek against the stone, and her tears made dark splotches on the polished surface. “I wish I could talk with you, could know for sure that you forgive me and that you’re okay with me moving on. But I’ll just have to trust that you know what’s in my heart, and that you understand.”

Slowly she slipped the ring off her left hand and carefully tucked it in her purse. Then she let her fingers once more lovingly caress their names. “Goodbye, my loves,” she whispered.

For several minutes Clare remained in that position, the tears running freely down her face. Healing, cleansing tears of grief. Of closure.

When at last she straightened up, drained and weary, she was startled to find a cardinal staring at her from the ground, a few feet away. Oddly, the bird didn’t seem a bit frightened by such close proximity to a human. Its scarlet head was cocked to one side as it regarded her quizzically. When Clare didn’t move, it hopped a bit closer. Then closer still. There was something in its beak, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was.

All of a sudden, the bird hopped onto the grave, dropped its cargo, then lifted its wings and soared into the air. Clare watched, mesmerized, as it rose against the clear blue sky, circled once and disappeared among the trees.

When she looked down, the bird’s offering lay next to the roses she had placed there. Curiously she reached for it and set it in her palm. For a moment she couldn’t figure out what the triangular object was. One edge was ragged, as if it had been torn, and what looked like part of a number was visible. She turned it over…and her breath caught in her throat.

A large heart filled the small piece of cardboard.

It was the corner of a playing card.

Clare wasn’t a great believer in heavenly signs or messages from beyond the grave. But as she stared down at the sliver of cardboard in her hand, a profound, abiding peace spread throughout her. And in the deepest recesses of her soul, she felt as if she’d been given two precious gifts.

Absolution.

And permission to move on.

Tears once more filled her eyes, and she raised her face toward Heaven. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I
t sure is quiet around here without Clare.”

Adam’s hand stilled for a moment, then he continued dishing out the Chinese food he’d brought home for dinner.

When he didn’t respond, Nicole looked over at him. “Don’t you miss her, too, Dad?”

He handed her a plate. “Yes. But she’ll be back tomorrow.”

Nicole sighed and glanced disinterestedly at her food. “Yeah, but not for long. She’ll be leaving in two weeks. For good.”

Adam was well aware of Clare’s impending departure. It had been on his mind constantly. He’d prayed about it, asked for guidance, listened to his heart. He knew what he
wanted
to do. But he still wasn’t sure it would be fair to ask Clare to commit to a man who had major problems with intimacy. Yes, they’d already connected and communicated on a deeper level than he ever had with Elaine. But could he sustain that? Or would he end up disappointing Clare? He didn’t know the answer to that question. And he wasn’t sure how to find it.

He’d struggled with another question, as well. He knew Nicole had come to care deeply about Clare. But was she ready to have someone move into a mother’s role? Or would she resent another woman trying to take the place of the mother she had loved? Adam had been wanting to bring the subject up with Nicole for weeks, but he’d never found the opportunity. Or the courage. But time was running out. And there would be no better opportunity than now.

Adam forced himself to take a steadying breath and made a pretense of eating. “You’re going to miss Clare, aren’t you?” he asked, striving to keep his tone casual and conversational.

Nicole sighed. “Big-time. She’s cool. I kind of hoped…”

Her voice trailed off, and Adam looked over at her. “Hoped what?” he prompted.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. You put your arm around her once, out on the porch. And I see the way you guys look at each other, usually when you think the other one isn’t watching. I’m not a kid anymore, you know. I thought maybe…well, that maybe you and Clare might fall in love or something. If you guys got married, she could stay.”

Adam stared at her, stunned. “You hoped we’d get married?”

Nicole flushed. “Yeah.”

“But…what about your mom?”

“What about her?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about someone taking her place.”

Nicole shrugged unconcernedly. “Clare wouldn’t do that. Clare is…Clare. She and Mom are a lot different. I love them both.”

Adam stared at his daughter. She had honed right to the essence of the situation, which he had obviously made far too complicated. And he couldn’t argue with her logic. Elaine and Clare
were
different. Completely.

“So are you going to?” Nicole asked.

“What?”

“Ask her to marry you?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

She tilted her head and studied him. “How come you’re not sure?”

Because I don’t want to hurt her. Because I’m still not convinced I’m husband material. Because I’m scared she’ll say no.

But his spoken words were different. “I don’t know if she loves me.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Dad! How can you be so dense! Of course she loves you!”

“How do you know?”

“I told you. I see the way she looks at you.”

“Could you be a little more specific?”

“You know. Her eyes get kind of…soft or something. Like she thinks you’re really special.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So are you going to ask her?”

“I guess I will.”

Nicole grinned. “Cool! Then she can move into the house and we can be a real family.”

As Nicole attacked her meal with sudden enthusiasm, her last words echoed in Adam’s heart.

A real family.

That had a nice sound. A hopeful sound. And he wanted it more than he could say.

He just prayed Clare felt the same way.

“You didn’t have to go to the Bluebird, Adam. I would have been happy to make dinner.”

Adam glanced over at Clare. Since her return from Kansas City a few days before, she’d seemed tired and a bit too pale. He’d known the trip would take a lot out of her, physically and emotionally, and he’d been right. So he’d insisted that she take it easy for a couple of days.

“You can cook tomorrow if you really want to.”

“I really want to.”

She turned to look at the mountains then, and as he studied her in the twilight, he was grateful to see that tonight there was more color in her cheeks. She hadn’t talked much about her trip, except to say that she was glad she had gone. But in her eyes there was a quiet serenity that hadn’t been there before. And he had noted the absence of her wedding ring. So he knew the trip had done what she’d hoped—released her from the past so that she could build a new future.

A future he hoped included Nicole and him.

Adam felt his heart begin to thud heavily in his chest and he turned to look out over the distant mountains. He’d been waiting for the right moment to propose, and this seemed to be it. It was a beautiful evening, the stillness broken only by the song of birds. Nicole had gone to dinner at a friend’s house and wouldn’t be home until much later. It was the perfect time.

Adam swallowed and looked over at Clare. She was still focused on the mountains, her face placid and at peace, her legs curled up under her. She looked so right sitting there on his porch, he thought. As though she belonged with him. For always.

He cleared his throat, and Clare glanced at him expectantly. Suddenly he wished he was sitting beside her instead of in the wicker chair at a right angle to the settee. But maybe this was better. From here, he had a better view of her face, a better angle from which to gauge her reactions.

“We missed you while you were gone,” he began.

“I missed you both, too.”

“Nicole said it just wasn’t the same around here without you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she remained silent.

“She was right,” he added.

Again, Clare remained silent, her eyes inviting him to continue.

Adam leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “The thing is, Clare, we don’t want you to leave when the nanny job is over.”

She waited a moment, as if she expected him to say more. When he didn’t, she spoke. “I have a job waiting for me in Kansas City.”

“But there’s a job for you here, too.”

The tiniest frown creased her brow. “I never planned to be a nanny permanently, Adam.”

“I don’t mean that job.” He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m really making a mess of this. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing.”

“Just tell me what’s in your heart, Adam,” she encouraged softly.

He looked over at her, suddenly afraid. Afraid to do as she asked. And just as afraid not to. If he told her what was in his heart, he would be completely vulnerable. But if he didn’t, how could he convince her to stay? He fought against his doubts, but fear knotted his stomach and made it difficult to breathe.

When he spoke, his voice was taut with tension. “I’d like you to stay, Clare. As my wife.”

For a long moment she searched his eyes. Then she spoke. “Why?”

It was a simple question. And the answer should be equally simple. But he couldn’t say the words he knew she wanted to hear.

“I’d like us to be a family,” he said unevenly. “You’ve been wonderful with Nicole, and she doesn’t want you to leave. Neither do I. I think we could have a good life together, the three of us.”

He knew his response was lame. He knew it even before he saw the flicker of hope that had initially sprung to life in her eyes change to disappointment, then to sad resignation. Nevertheless, she waited silently for a moment, giving him a chance to say something else. But he couldn’t find the words.

Finally she spoke again. “Thank you for the offer, Adam,” she said quietly. “But I’m not in the market for that kind of job. You and Nicole will be fine now. I’ve done what Aunt Jo asked me to do. It’s time to move on.”

Adam felt something inside him break.

Once more she waited. But when he didn’t speak, she rose and looked down at him, her eyes sad—and hurt. “I’m pretty tired, Adam. I think I’ll go back to my apartment and turn in early.”

A moment later he heard the screen door close gently but firmly behind him.

Adam let his head drop into his hands.
Lord, what am I to do now?
he pleaded desperately in the silence of his heart.
I can’t let Clare leave. She means more to me than life itself. Please help me find a way to convince her to stay. Give me the courage to fully open my heart to this special woman, to overcome my father’s bitter legacy once and for all. Please give me another chance!

Suddenly the words of Reverend Nichols’s Easter homily came back to Adam. The minister had said that in order to grow, we have to be willing to trust our heart with other people. That unless we let go of our fear, we can never move forward or fulfill God’s plan for us. And that we need to love as Christ did—completely, selflessly and without reservation.

Adam believed that in his heart. But putting it into action required tremendous courage. A courage he was afraid he didn’t have.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

Adam lifted his head from his hands and looked up at Nicole from the shadows. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat on the porch, but the sky had grown dark.

Nicole moved closer. At the sight of his face, her eyes widened in alarm. “Is Clare sick again?”

Adam forced himself to straighten up. “No. She just went to bed early.”

“So what’s wrong?”

Adam sighed. “Sit down a minute, sweetie.”

Nicole moved to the spot on the settee that Clare had vacated earlier and perched on the edge. When Adam didn’t immediately speak, she leaned forward impatiently. “Dad?”

He wiped a hand wearily down his face. “Remember what we talked about the other night? About Clare staying? I asked her tonight. She said…no.”

Nicole stared at him incredulously. “You asked her to marry you?” At his nod, she frowned. “But she loves you! What did you say to her?”

“I asked her to stay. As my wife.”

Nicole’s frown deepened. “What else?”

“I told her that I wanted us to be a family, and how much she meant to you, and that we didn’t want her to leave.”

She waited, much as Clare had waited earlier, as if expecting him to say more. When he didn’t, Nicole leaned forward. “Is that it?”

“Pretty much.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “That is so unromantic! It makes it sound like the only reason you want her to stay is because of me.”

“But that’s part of it,” he said defensively.

She looked at him with a wisdom far beyond her eleven years. “Dad, no woman is going to marry a guy because his kid likes her.”

Adam felt his neck grow red. “It’s more than that.”

“Than what?”

“I like Clare.”

“Like?”
she practically shrieked.

“Okay, okay. I love her.”

“And…”

“And what?”

“Come on, Dad! What else? Tell me how you feel about her.” When he hesitated, she leaned over and laid her hand on his knee. “It’s okay. You can tell me. This is the kind of stuff you share with people you love,” she said gently.

Adam drew an unsteady breath, digging deep for the courage he hoped was there. “I—I can’t imagine my life without her anymore,” he said quietly, his voice slightly unsteady.

“That’s better,” Nicole said encouragingly. “Keep going.”

“Sometimes…sometimes it scares me, but the fact is…I need her. Because she makes me a better person. And she makes my life so much richer. When she walks into the room, it’s like…like the sun coming out after a gray, rainy day. Everything seems so much better and brighter. I love her so much sometimes that…that it hurts.”

There was silence for a moment, and when Adam risked a glance at Nicole she was staring at him in awe.

“Wow!” she breathed. “Did you say any of that to Clare?”

“Not exactly.”

Nicole leaned forward. “You need to use those exact words, Dad! Man, she’ll melt!”

“But she already said no, Nicole.”

“So? You can’t give up! But the next time you need to do this right. The words are important, but you also need to be more romantic.”

Adam gave her a helpless look. “Romance isn’t my specialty.”

She dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. “I have lots of ideas,” she said confidently. “Do you want to hear them?”

Adam was pretty sure he wouldn’t be very comfortable with Nicole’s suggestions. But he didn’t have any other brilliant ideas. And if she could help him figure out a way to change that look of sad resignation in Clare’s eyes to one of love and acceptance, he was willing to give them a try. “I guess I don’t have anything to lose at this point.”

Nicole leaned forward eagerly. “Okay. Let’s start with roses….”

Clare sat cross-legged on her bed, sorting half-heartedly through a box of printed material she’d accumulated since arriving in North Carolina. School schedules and phone numbers and driving directions and brochures about various points of interest in the area that she thought might someday make nice outings. She really didn’t need any of it now, she thought, her spirits drooping.

Clare rested her chin in her hands and propped her elbows on her knees. This wasn’t the way she’d hoped her time in North Carolina would end, she thought with a melancholy pang. Thanks to Aunt Jo, she had found a new family to love—and a wonderful man to spend the rest of her life with. She’d dealt with her guilt and her grief. She was ready to move on. To start a new life.

Unfortunately, the wonderful man wasn’t.

Clare sighed. She knew that Adam loved her. Knew that his feelings for her ran deep and strong. But she also knew that unless—or until—he was able to express those feelings, to admit that he loved her and needed her just as much as she loved and needed him, the relationship would be out of balance. A marriage in which one party held back, withholding trust at the deepest level, was not the kind of marriage she wanted.