A Mother's Gift (Love Inspired) (12 page)

N
ot again.

Nick walked around the house and whistled for Belle, although he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly to where the dog had run off.

The same place she’d run off to three times that morning.

He cupped a hand over his brow to block out the sun and squinted in the direction of Julia’s house. Just as he’d suspected, a large white object lay sprawled in front of the door like a furry welcome mat.

Except Nick was pretty certain the welcome didn’t extend to the neighbor’s dog. Ruefully, Nick admitted that it probably didn’t extend to the neighbor, either.

He didn’t want to tie up Belle or confine her to the house on a beautiful spring day, but keeping an eye on her was proving to be a challenge while he tackled some of the items on his lengthy to-do list.

Irma Robertson and the volunteers from Clear Springs Community Church had made a significant dent in that list but Nick was still glad he’d put off his official starting date at the vet clinic for a few days. It gave him a chance to start fixing up his fixer-upper.

He started out in the direction of Julia’s house, praying she wouldn’t step outside and catch Belle trespassing. Or him. So far, he’d managed to pull off three covert ops but the odds of completing another successful mission were getting slim.

He slipped under the fence, slunk along a hedge of boxwood and, as he got closer to the house, he cleared his throat to get the dog’s attention. “Come on, girl. This isn’t your house.”

A carpet-square-size ear twitched, as if a pesky mosquito were buzzing around it.

Nick ran out of hedge and dove behind the nearest lilac bush. “I’ve got a nice, tasty biscuit on the counter with your name on it.”

Belle’s eyelids flickered.

Yes. The magic word.

“That’s right. A biscuit,” Nick whispered.

Wide awake now, the dog lifted her head and let out a happy woof.

Nick shot out from his hiding place. “No! No barking if you want a biscuit—”

So maybe the word wasn’t magic. Because Belle rolled to her feet and tipped her nose to the sky. And Nick knew exactly what would happen next.

Aahroorooroo!

He stumbled up the steps and made a grab for the pink collar. And somehow ended up on his back. With Belle on top of him.

“We’ve got to get home,” he gasped, twisting to avoid the swipe of a tongue against his cheek.

Belle didn’t budge, leaving Nick to conclude that she had a limited vocabulary. One that included the word
biscuit
but not the word
home.

“Off you go. Before—”

Julia appeared.

But there she was, staring down at him as if he were a smear on a microscope slide. She somehow managed to look beautiful even upside down; prim and proper in a lightweight yellow sweater that reminded Nick of sunshine.

“Julia.” Her name came out in a wheeze.

“Nick.” Julia’s smile came and went so quickly that Nick decided he must have imagined it. More than likely, the weight on his chest was cutting off oxygen to his brain.

Forget about it, Delaney. You aren’t going to get out of this one with your dignity intact.

He tried anyway. “Nice—”
breathe
“—day isn’t, it?”

Julia tilted her head and a lock of golden hair followed the movement, caressing the soft curve of her jaw. She clapped her hands twice—she didn’t even have to
say
anything—and suddenly he was a free man.

“Thanks.” Nick’s fingers performed a brief, exploratory search for broken ribs as he staggered to his feet.

“You’re welcome.”

They stared at each other.

As if Belle had decided it was her responsibility to break the awkward silence that fell between the humans, she butted her massive head against Julia’s leg. Julia caught her lower lip between her teeth and backed away.

Apparently both people
and
dogs were expected to keep their distance.

“Come on, Belle. Time to go home.” No way was Nick going to say the word
biscuit
again.

Belle’s gaze bounced between him and Julia, as if she were trying to make a decision. And then the dog—
his
dog—sat down. Next to Julia. The plumed tail thumped twice.

Nick interpreted that to mean “so there” in dog-speak.

“Belle. Home.”

In response, Belle did a belly flop at Julia’s feet, propped her chin on her paws and closed her eyes.

Nick silently added “build kennel” to his to-do list.

“I’m sorry—” He was unable to finish the sentence because he suddenly felt short of breath again. But this time he couldn’t blame it on having the canine equivalent of an anvil sitting on his chest.

A smile tipped the corners of Julia’s lips. A
real
smile. One that backlit the violet-blue eyes and revealed a captivating dimple in her left cheek.

The unexpected jolt that burned a path from Nick’s heart to his toes left him shaken. After eight years, he’d come to accept that
those
kinds of feelings had gone dormant.

There’d been several women in his former congregation who’d subtly let him know they would be open to pursuing a serious relationship, but Nick had never been moved by their interest. Now just one smile from Julia Windham left him as tongue-tied as a junior-high kid with his first crush.

Twin spots of color tinted her cheeks and Nick realized he was still staring.

Say. Something.

“I guess Belle would rather stay here a little longer.” Nick was even more stunned by the realization that he didn’t blame the dog a bit. He was tempted to linger, too. Which was crazy, considering the fact that Julia didn’t want him on her property. Or living in the house next door.

“Excuse me.” Julia ducked her head but not before Nick caught a glimpse of another smile. “I’ll let the two of you work this out while I check my mail.”

She started down the steps and Belle rolled to her feet, attaching herself to Julia’s side like a well-trained guide dog.

Building the dog kennel moved to the top of the list. “We’ll, ah, walk with you. We’re heading in that direction anyway.” Nick tried to focus on something else so she wouldn’t catch him staring. Again.

“It’s hard to get used to the quiet,” he said, lifting his face to the sun as they fell in step together down the driveway.

“Quiet?”

Nick chuckled at the astonishment in Julia’s voice. He realized that the birds’ lively chorus in the trees around them didn’t exactly meet the definition. “Okay, it’s hard to get used to the sounds of nature instead of sirens and traffic.”

“Not everyone adjusts to country living.”

“You did.”

Julia’s gaze remained fixed ahead of them. “Sometimes a person doesn’t have a choice. Sometimes they have to…adjust. Whether they want to or not.”

There was something in her voice that Nick couldn’t quite identify. Resignation? Regret?

“Growing up, I was a frustrated city boy. I must have read
Hatchet
a dozen times and I remember driving my mother crazy every time she found me sleeping under my bed instead of on top of it.” Nick smiled at the memory. “Beth takes after me, I suppose. Her mother’s idea of roughing it was staying at a hotel without a concierge.”

If Nick were honest with himself, it was one of the reasons he’d stayed in the city so long. Chicago had been the place where he and Liz had met and eventually married. The place he felt closest to her. Moving away would have felt as if he were severing another connection with her. So he’d stayed. Until his mother had challenged him to pray about his future, and the answer had ultimately led him to a dilapidated old farmhouse. A house that already felt like home.

“But…Beth’s mother will visit here, won’t she? She’ll want to see Beth’s room and meet Belle.”

Nick sucked in a breath, reminding himself that Julia wouldn’t know anything about his personal life.

“Liz—” it didn’t hurt quite as much when he said her name anymore “—died when Beth was two years old.”

Julia’s mask slipped and her eyes filled with compassion. “I assumed…”

“That I was divorced,” Nick finished. “Don’t worry. It’s an honest mistake. Not too many guys are widowers at the age of twenty-four.”

He still couldn’t believe eight years had gone by. Sometimes it seemed as if the accident had happened a few days ago…and other times it felt as if it were a lifetime ago.

“Liz had met some friends for lunch and was on her way home. A driver ran a red light at the intersection.” A condensed version of a day that had come close to destroying the underpinnings of his life. And faith.

If Liz hadn’t left Beth at his mother’s, he would have lost them both.

“I’m sorry.”

Nick had heard those formal little words spoken dozens of times from people who had inadvertently stumbled into a similar conversation. But the faint tremor in Julia’s voice went beyond sympathy. It sounded like…understanding.

She’d lost someone, too.

Who?

As much as Nick wanted to know the answer to that question, he wasn’t about to risk the fragile connection that had sprung up between them.

Lost in thought, he suddenly realized that Julia had stopped at the end of the driveway, where two silver mailboxes were fastened to a single post.

“I don’t have to ask which mailbox belongs to you and which one is mine.” Nick couldn’t prevent the low rumble of laughter that escaped. “It looks like I’ll have to add ‘put up a new mailbox’ to my list.”

“After you paint Beth’s room?”

Nick frowned. “How did you know I was painting her room?”

“You have…pink paint. On your cheek.”

Of course he did. Because being turned into a throw rug by a Samoyed-shepherd mix hadn’t been humiliating enough.

Nick performed an exploratory search along his jaw. “Did I get it?”

“No, it’s right…here.” At the feather-light touch of Julia’s fingers against the side of his face, Nick felt another breaker switch in his heart flip on.

Julia yanked her hand away and her eyes darkened with confusion.

That makes two of us,
Nick thought.

He forced a rueful smile, sensing that Julia was ready to bolt. “Beth’s favorite, favorite color.”

“Rose petals.”

Nick was surprised she’d remembered. “I guess it’s a good thing she didn’t insist on painting the outside of the house that color.”

“You’re painting the house?”

“Weren’t you going to?” Nick asked without thinking.

A pause. And then, “I was going to have it taken down.”

“Taken…” Nick’s voice trailed off when the meaning sank in. “As in, demolished?”

“That’s right.” Julia’s gaze shifted to the house.
His
house. “It’s old and falling apart. It’s an eyesore.”

Why did he get the feeling she was repeating someone else’s words?

“I guess that depends on whose eyes are looking at it,” Nick said softly.

Julia didn’t reply as she pulled a stack of envelopes out of her mailbox.

“I’m sorry about Belle,” he said, reluctant to leave things between them on a bad note. “Beth and I will work on training her to stay in the yard.”

Julia’s hand kneaded the soft curve of her hip. “Thank you,” she said, her tone once again polite. Distant. “I work out of my home so my hours vary every day. It’s difficult to get anything accomplished if there are constant…distractions.”

Nick read between the lines. Distractions like a precocious ten-year-old and her ninety-pound canine sidekick.

He tamped down the disappointment that stirred inside of him. With a little creativity, Nick knew he could keep the ninety-pound sidekick out of Julia’s hair—and her yard. But he had a feeling the precocious ten-year-old would prove to be the greater challenge.

J
ulia’s cell phone came to life in her jacket pocket, belting out the theme song from one of her favorite musicals.

“Hello?”

“Julia?”

At the sound of Nick’s voice, the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir a batch of homemade spaghetti sauce slipped out of her hand and clattered across the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry. Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

Just thinking about you
was the first thought that popped into Julia’s head.

“N-no.” Her hands trembled as she bent to retrieve the spoon.

“I hate to bother you.” Nick’s ragged exhale on the other end of the line had Julia’s fingers tightening around the phone.

“Is everything all right? Is it Beth?” The questions tumbled over each other.

“She’s the reason I’m calling,” Nick admitted. “I’m on my way to a house call. A dog was struck by a car and its owner is an elderly woman who lives alone. I usually pick Beth up after school and she stays at the clinic with me until we close for the day….” His voice trailed off and Julia connected the dots.

He needed her help.

“What about Irma Robertson? Or Lucy?” she blurted.

“Oh.” There was a pause and Julia’s could almost
see
Nick run his fingers through his hair. It was a little unsettling to discover that she was already familiar with some of his mannerisms. “I thought of you first.”

Strangely enough, a feeling of warmth, rather than panic, bloomed inside of her at the admission.

“Beth needs a ride home from school?”

“No, I called the principal and Beth can take the bus home today. It’s just that I’m not comfortable with her being alone, especially when I don’t know how long this will take. I should have asked Irma. You’re probably busy.”

Not to mention she’d more or less told Nick that she preferred to be left alone. They both knew it—although he was too polite to remind her of their last conversation. The conversation that had plagued her with guilt—and regret—ever since.

It had been an evasive maneuver. A futile attempt to override the urge to comfort him when he’d told her that his wife had died. To tell him that she understood grief. And loss.

The troubling part was that even though she hadn’t said a word, Nick had still known. She’d heard it in his voice. Seen it in his eyes. The fact that he’d looked past her defenses and discovered the truth had stirred up her flight response.

When she’d told Nick that she didn’t need any unnecessary distractions, he’d thought she meant Beth and the dog. But the truth was, she found Nick a distraction, too. His appealing, lopsided smile. The husky, masculine laugh that wove its way through the frozen terrain of her heart, melting a path through her defenses like a warm spring breeze.

If she weren’t careful, it would be all too easy to let Nick and Beth Delaney into her life. In less than a week, they already occupied more of her thoughts than they should. Beth’s sweet personality and impulsive hugs made Julia long for things she could never have. And Nick…

She refused to let her thoughts go there.

Julia tried to come up with an excuse. A valid reason why having Beth over wouldn’t work out. But she couldn’t think of a single one.

“I’m not busy,” she heard herself say instead. “Beth can stay here until you get home.”

Silence. And then, “Great. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The relief in his voice was palpable.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about Beth.” Nick chuckled. “I know she’ll be in good hands. I’m just sorry I had to inconvenience you.”

“It’s not an inconvenience.” As soon as she said the words, Julia realized they were true. She didn’t know what Nick had said to Beth, but neither the little girl nor her dog had made any impromptu visits over the past few days. Even though she tried to convince herself it was what she’d wanted, she couldn’t help but feel a little…disappointed.

“Great. I’ll see you soon.”

Julia hung up the phone and glanced at the clock. In half an hour, Beth would be getting off the bus.

Panic squeezed the air from her lungs.

Was she supposed to fix her an after-school snack? Did she have anything in the cupboard that would appeal to a ten-year-old? Should she help with homework?

I know she’ll be in good hands.

Nick’s words scrolled through her mind, easing her momentary panic. He’d sounded so…confident.

Why did he trust her?

She’d been less than neighborly since they’d moved in next door. Rebuffed Beth’s invitation to share a picnic lunch. She’d even put in a generous offer on the house that Beth believed God had provided for them.

Julia had tried to keep a safe distance…but the feelings that Nick stirred inside of her felt anything but safe. Watching him and Beth interact—seeing the affection between them—made her long for things beyond her reach. Things she’d accepted would never be part of her life. A close, loving family. A home filled with laughter.

In a single moment, those dreams had shattered along with the bones in her body. For a little while, her fiancé had held her hand and made her believe that everything would be all right. But in the end, Steve had walked away, too.

There was no point in dreaming. Dreams only led to disappointment.

Quarter to ten.

Nick winced, mentally practicing the apology he owed Julia.

He’d kept his promise—to get home as soon as he could. The trouble was, this was the soonest he could get home. Which meant Julia had been in charge of homework, supper and the general all-around mayhem that typically accompanied Beth’s bedtime routine.

Maybe he should have stopped at the grocery store and bought a box of chocolates. To go along with the apology.

Maybe you shouldn’t have called her in the first place.

Why had he? A split second after Julia had answered the phone, Nick had wondered why she’d been the first person who had come to mind when he’d been called out on an emergency. After stumbling through the explanation as to
why
he’d called, he half expected she would laugh. Or hang up on him.

He’d almost dropped the phone when she’d agreed to keep an eye on Beth until he could get home. And he hadn’t imagined the undercurrent of concern in her voice when she’d asked if everything was all right. As if she actually cared that everything was all right.

But that didn’t make sense, either, considering she’d all but told him that she wanted to be left alone.

He’d done his best over the past few days to keep his determined offspring so busy that she didn’t have time to slip under the fence and drop by their neighbor’s house for a visit.

He’d hinted that Julia worked out of her home…
no, he had no idea what she did
…that she wasn’t too keen on being disrupted…
yes, it was possible Belle fell into that category
…and that it was important to respect people’s wishes. And their privacy.

Beth had accepted everything he’d said but that didn’t stop her from talking about Julia. Every chance she got. Or adding her name to the list of people Beth prayed for at bedtime.

God, thank You that we moved here.

The first time Nick heard that one, it was all he could do to stifle a groan. If Julia talked with God at all, he doubted she was saying a similar prayer.

Still, there were moments when she seemed to soften; making him wonder if some lingering pain below the surface had forged the cool reserve she used like a shield.

He thought about the smile she hadn’t been able to suppress when Belle had plopped at her feet that day. The smile that continued to linger at the edges of his memory…

You keep lecturing Beth on keeping your distance. You should probably take your own advice,
Nick chided himself.

As he guided the car around the corner, his foot came down hard on the brake. Julia’s house was completely dark except for a soft glow in the kitchen window. His house, on the other hand, was lit up like a Christmas float.

It occurred to him that they’d probably switched houses because it was getting close to the time Beth went to bed and Julia didn’t know when he’d be home.

Because my cell phone battery died. And Mrs. Vanderbeek’s dog needed emergency surgery….

He parked the car and slipped inside the house, half expecting to find Julia waiting for him on the other side of the door. Tapping her foot.

The front hall was empty. There was no sign of Belle, who usually greeted him the moment she heard his key turn in the lock. Everything was quiet. So quiet that Nick wondered if he
had
gone to wrong house by mistake.

He made a quick search of the first floor and then padded up the stairs. When he reached the top step, he saw a sliver of light underneath Beth’s bedroom door. Nick tapped on it before turning the knob.

“Anybody in here?” He pushed it open, his heart fisting at the sight that greeted him.

His daughter was already in her favorite pajamas and tucked under the covers. Propped up on her knees was the book of family devotions they read together every night.

That part of the scene, however, was a familiar one to Nick. The one that stole his breath from his lungs was the fact that she was leaning against Julia, their heads close together. Julia’s long legs were tucked underneath her and a necklace made of braided ribbon and gaudy beads adorned the powder-blue cashmere sweater she wore.

In spite of the differences in their coloring, she and Beth looked as if they fit together like the last two pieces of a puzzle.

Nick felt the world suddenly shift beneath his feet. Swamped by an unexpected wave of emotion, he struggled to regain his equilibrium.

For eight years, he’d done everything he could to make sure that Beth didn’t feel the void that Liz’s death had created in their family. His mother had provided a wonderful role model. He’d made sure Beth had regular playdates with friends. He encouraged her interests and hobbies.

Nick had convinced himself that his daughter had everything she needed. Their lives were full. Their family complete, even though it was only the two of them.

What he hadn’t realized until this moment was that he’d tried to convince himself of that, too.

The thought slammed against his defenses. Defenses that Nick hadn’t even known existed. Until now.

For years he’d refused to date, telling himself that he needed to protect Beth from the complications a serious relationship would inevitably bring. But now, as if God were aiming a light into a shadowy corner of his soul, Nick realized that maybe, just maybe, Beth’s heart hadn’t been the only one he’d been protecting.