Her Baby Dreams (8 page)

And that was when Steven had shown up. No, fear of not pleasing her mother and fear of the Lord not giving her the family she so desperately wanted had cost her dearly. She wasn't going to let anything sidetrack her from finding the right man this time. She might feel completely desperate, but she would make herself be patient. That required discipline. It required her not to let Dan Dawson's boyish charm through the chinks in her armor.

 

There was nothing like taking one ten-year-old and five thirteen-and fourteen-year-olds camping. Dan had grown up without a father, and he understood all too well how important it was for the men of the church to step up and be there for boys like Max. Brady did what he could, but he worked long hours, and soon he and Dottie would have a baby of their own.

The women's shelter was in what had been Brady's home, which he'd donated when he'd moved to a smaller place on the family property. It gave him and Dottie some privacy, as opposed to living at the shelter full-time. It also freed up space for women in need.

As the campfire flickered, Dan watched the boys listening intently to Clint tell about his run-in with a group of cattle rustlers.

Dan thought about Stacy. She had started coming out of her shell. Talking to people was getting easier for her. She had even looked him in the eye earlier that afternoon. It happened more and more frequently. When those crystal-clear gray eyes met his and held, even if only for two seconds, he wanted to shout “Hallelujah!” It had taken him months of diligent, steady work and countless trips to the candy store to gain her trust. Regaining trust took time. It wasn't anything he took lightly. It had been the same way for his mother all those years ago after she'd braved the wrath of her husband by escaping with Dan to a safe house. Dan remembered the beatings as if they were yesterday, and knew he probably owed his life to his mother.

She'd broken the cycle of violence and given him a chance to become a man whose life wasn't ruled by violence, but by compassion. Still, he was deeply aware of the statistic that boys raised in abusive homes had a greater risk of becoming abusive themselves. It was always at the back of his mind. Looking at Max, a healthy, happy kid, Dan wondered how desperate the situation had been for him and Rose before they'd gotten out. Though Rose was doing a great job, he prayed for Max to one day have a new dad.

He also prayed for Stacy. She was just as heavy on his heart. With God's help and guidance, one day she would be able to hold her head high with confidence. Dan's heart was burdened with an urge to help the residents of No Place Like Home.

His thoughts turned to his new neighbor. She didn't trust him. She truly thought he was a no-good flirt. He
was
a flirt—guilty as charged. But that was a tool to plant friendship and trust with the ladies at No Place Like Home.

It was a part of him that he would never change, yet never explain, either. And it was part of the problem with Ashby.

Not just because the idea of revealing something so personal didn't set well with him. It went deeper than that. Became more complicated. He was who he was, and Ashby, like everyone else he'd ever met, would have to take him or leave him based on what they saw in him.

In his view, people who didn't look past their prejudices and preconceived notions didn't deserve an explanation of who he was at his core.

Besides, his actions involving women and children who'd been hurt were deliberate, prayed-up actions with a mission. They were his ministry.

He believed everyone had a path. A heaven-ordained path where every good thing and every bad thing a person went through would be used for the benefit of God's kingdom. He'd strayed and stumbled along the way trying to completely separate himself from his past. Hoping to rid himself of haunting memories that he'd thought lingered because of his volunteering at the shelters. After all, with his mother's guidance, they'd been volunteering at them for years. So his thinking had been that some distance would help lay the past to rest. During that time, he'd moved to Mule Hollow, a quiet little town out in the middle of nowhere. Of course, God had opened his eyes when No Place Like Home relocated out here beside him. This time his involvement was wholehearted.

He just didn't feel compelled to share that. It was almost as if sharing it would diminish it….

He'd been a kid with a no-good dad and an extraordinary mother. Looking back over his life, Dan saw that God's hand was clearly visible in the events that had happened to him. But if he opened up, revealed that, it would seem as if he were trying to take the focus off God and put it on himself.

People who looked closely enough would see a pattern, but if he talked about it, the element of humility would disappear.

And though he didn't think anyone would believe it about him, being humble was what he liked the best.

T
hings were not good. On Saturday morning Ashby's mother called. Her unhappy mother. Ashby's picture was on the Internet….

In conjunction with her weekly newspaper column, Molly Jacobs had a Web site that attracted a good number of avid readers who enjoyed hearing about small-town life in Mule Hollow. Molly was able to share far more on the Web site than she was in the paper. And it was there Molly had posted her pictures of the pig scramble.

“You look horrid! Just horrid!” her mother exclaimed the instant Ashby said hello.

It was a phrase Ashby had heard too many times through the years to recount. She'd come to realize it meant her mother was nervous, and not that Ashby necessarily looked horrid.

Lydia had obviously been to Molly's Web site and seen photos of her daughter's run-in with the pig. So today when she used the word
horrid,
she meant it.

Ashby had actually thought about doing bodily harm to Molly when she'd realized the photos had been uploaded. She'd checked them out before going to bed last night and had been mortified. Thankfully, her mug shot was in a collage with several others. Harmless, right? That was what she'd told herself as she'd tried to go to sleep.

Until this moment, though, listening to her mother's hysterics on the phone, she hadn't been sure that Lydia was actually keeping up with what went on in Mule Hollow. It wasn't as if Ashby made the papers all that much.

“Calm down, Mother.”

“How can you expect me to calm down when all my friends will be seeing
this!
”

The rebellious side of Ashby wanted to remind her that a lady did not screech, scream or raise her voice. Nor did she surf the Web looking for compromising images of her daughter. But Ashby didn't. At times like this, she felt like the little girl in the pink taffeta party dress who'd just embarrassed her mother at Agatha Hathaway's seventh birthday party. Even at six years old, Ashby had recognized the humiliation in her mother's eyes…and hated knowing she'd put it there. Despite the fact that she'd purposefully poured the red punch down her dress, knowing it would bother her mother. She just hadn't expected how ashamed it would make her. That was the day Ashby started denying the rebellious child inside her and began trying to make her mother proud of her.

It had taken years to realize that was an unattainable goal. Lydia loved her in her own complicated way, and that had to be enough.

“Your friends in Pacific Heights won't even know it's me,” Ashby said now, happy that Molly hadn't tagged names to individual photos. The entire grouping bore the label “A fun time at the pig scramble for the ladies of Mule Hollow.” Thank goodness for small blessings.

“I can only hope that's true. However, a
pig scramble
—Ashby, that's pushing the limits of good taste. From the picture, it's obvious you were wallowing in the dirt with that animal. Surely, even you can see my point in this.”

The acid in her stomach churning, Ashby closed her eyes and prayed the Lord would give her patience. “Yes, Mother, I understand completely. I apologize for any embarrassment I may have caused you.” She knew there was nothing else that would appease her mother.

“Very well. I must go. I'm presenting at the garden club this afternoon and I have much to do.”

“Enjoy yourself, Mother.” Ashby's fingers tightened around the handset. There was a brief pause before the line went dead. Holding the silent phone, Ashby fought to regain her footing, longing for a closeness with her mom that she knew she would never have.

One day she would have her own child…and things would be different. Her arms ached to hold her baby, and her heart longed to show it the love she'd always craved for herself.

She blinked hard against the threat of tears. God must let her have a child.

 

By the time Ashby made it out to Dan's place, cleanup was in full swing. It looked like anyone who didn't have to work was here offering a helping hand. As she got out of her car, she shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and tried to decide where she should start. Esther Mae, Adela and a few of the younger ladies had formed an assembly line of sorts. They were taking items such as flatware from a pile of salvaged goods and scrubbing them down. Ashby saw overalls-clad Norma Sue poking around in the ruins with a hoe. Several cowboys were doing the same, trying to see if anything of value survived in the ashes.

Her gaze settled on Dan, who was walking around with Will Sutton. Will had a business creating beautiful, artistic iron gates, but he also happened to be an architect. Ashby surveyed the damage. Most of the outer walls were a combination of brick and limestone and they were still standing, but the majority of the wood framework was either charred or completely burned. Many interior walls were gone, the roof was missing and rubble covered the concrete foundation. It was a disaster.

The good news was that Dan had insurance. Though items with sentimental value were a loss, he would come out of this with a new home. At least that was how the local grapevine had it. Ashby hadn't talked with him personally about it beyond their brief conversation the day before.

Dan seemed to have his head on straight when it came to material possessions. She couldn't really say whether, if her place burned, there would be much she would be heartbroken about losing. Still, Ashby suspected there would be emotional effects from the ordeal. Then again, as Dan had said, the crucial thing would be that no one was hurt in the fire.

They might have their differences, but she loved his perspective on what was important in life.

Over the past few days, she'd started to realize Dan Dawson actually had layers she hadn't seen before.

“Hey, Ashby!” Lacy poked her head out from behind a half wall that had hidden her from view. She had soot across one cheek and portions of her pale hair had black tips. At her exclamation, everyone looked up and greeted Ashby. Dan smiled and made his way over to where she stood.

“You did come to join the party,” he said warmly.

“I would have been out sooner, but I had to work until noon.” She reminded herself that he smiled like this at all women. And that his eyes twinkled naturally.

“I'm glad you came.”

“So, what should I do?” Ashby asked Dan, ignoring the way her stomach flipped when he was near.

“You could help over there, maybe.” He waved toward the washing line. “I wouldn't advise coming in here. I've been trying to get the ladies to stay on that side of the site because of nails and other hazards. As you can see, there are two who have ignored me.”

“Hey, I heard that,” Lacy called, peeking back over the wall.

“I did, too,” Norma Sue shouted from the back corner of the house. “I'll have you know I can look out for a nail as good as any man can. Being a woman doesn't make me blind.”

Dan chuckled and looked sheepish. “Can't do a thing with those two. It's a mess in here, though, so I would feel better if you didn't cross the threshold.”

“Ashby, you can come in here and help me,” Lacy called. Obviously, she had supersonic hearing.

Curious about what her friend was doing, and ready to put some space between herself and Dan, Ashby stepped into the ruins despite his wishes. “I'll be careful,” she said when his brows dipped with worry.

“Okay, but watch yourself.” He took her arm as she stepped over a burned ceiling beam, and continued to grasp her elbow as she skirted water-damaged debris.

Ashby wasn't sure why they thought anything could be salvaged. The whole place was a disaster. She glanced up to find Dan watching her.

“I know what you're thinking. I tried to tell them it was hopeless.” He shrugged. “No one is paying any attention to anything I say. What's a man to do?”

His whipped-puppy expression made her chuckle again. “Poor baby. I guess you'll just have to humor them.” Her teasing surprised her and elicited a smile in return.

“Why, Miss Templeton, I do believe you just made a joke.”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “And now
I
need to get busy, so don't let me keep you from what you were doing.”

“Okay, but really, be careful.” He sauntered off in that easy gait that was pure Dan.

Ashby squatted down beside Lacy. “What are you doing?”

Lacy showed her the pile of ash she was digging through. “I'm finding Dan's mother's jewelry.” With her free hand, she reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a smoke-blackened necklace.

Ashby gasped, watching Lacy tuck it back into her pocket. “He didn't have it in a safe-deposit box?”

“Men. They don't think! He told me he kept her jewelry box in a drawer of his dresser. So I'm just digging around. I've found a necklace and a bracelet. They may be ruined beyond repair, but I feel good trying to salvage them for him. He said though she didn't have a lot of it, he'd planned on giving it to his children someday. If he had any.”

Ashby started to poke around in the grimy mix of ash and burned items. Until yesterday, she hadn't even pictured Dan with children. But watching him play with the boys at the party had awakened her to the fact that he would be a good father if he ever decided to settle down. Which would be
years,
she reminded herself. Even he had tagged on
if
he had any to his statement.

“Oh!” She felt positively giddy when she realized the black oval she was looking at was a ring. Picking it up, she held it in her palm and studied it.

“Is it a wedding band?” Lacy asked, just as excited.

“Maybe. There doesn't appear to be any stones on it. Here, tuck it in there with the other pieces and let's keep going. I might turn into a treasure hunter yet. We could even rent a metal detector before the bulldozers come in and take it all down.” If Dan's mother had been anything like hers, there could be a truckload of jewelry in this pile of ash.

“Nope.” Lacy shook her head. “He said she had two rings, a bracelet and three necklaces. So we're almost done. One more each is all.”

Ashby found herself curious about the woman who inspired that devotion. “He really loved his mother, didn't he?” Their voices were hushed, both of them aware how their words could carry.

“I think they had a hard life. He doesn't speak about it. I was talking once about how hard it was sometimes without my dad in the picture for me and my mother, and Dan got this really sympathetic look on his face. He said something I've never forgotten—that it gave us an unbreakable bond. He understood, I could tell. He's never been one to talk much about his past, so it makes me curious. Ya know what I mean?” She'd been digging in the ashes and now sent Ashby a sideways smile.

Ashby pointed at the ground. “Stop it, and dig!”

Her friend laughed. “Okay, but you aren't fooling me. I know you noticed. And I know you're curious, too.”

She was, Ashby thought, glancing over at him. But she didn't want to be.

“Whoo-hoo and glory be!” Norma Sue shouted suddenly. “
Pictures!
Y'all come look.”

Everyone made their way over to where the woman stood, with a Texas-size grin plastered on her face. Beside her was what looked like a two-foot pile of ashes.

“I went to rake these up and the drawer front just fell off.”

Dan reached into the cavity and pulled out the picture album Norma Sue had revealed. It was covered in soot, but when he opened the cover, the pictures inside were safe. “Would you look at that,” he said as he turned the pages. There was awe in his tone and his expression.

Ashby felt her throat tighten with emotion, overwhelmed by the moment. He'd regained another connection to the past, which, yes, she was becoming more and more curious about. When he closed the book and engulfed Norma Sue in a bear hug, Ashby's heart was touched.

Tugging at his mustache, Norma Sue's husband turned and surveyed the disaster. “I wonder how many more of these here piles have surprises in them.”

An almost electric excitement infected everyone as they surveyed the heaps of ashes and debris.

“Let's get digging,” Lacy exclaimed, and with renewed energy, everyone set to work once more.

Ashby met Dan's gaze as she started to turn away, and she smiled at him. And for the first time since she'd known him, it felt totally sincere.