A Baby by Easter (14 page)

“She's having a shower. Primping, no doubt,” the other nurse's scathing voice condemned. “A man like him, from a wealthy family—he could have his pick of women. Why send
her
roses? She's nothing. Nobody. What's she got to offer him—an illegitimate kid?”

They left moments later but the damage was done. Even Susannah's gorgeous roses couldn't erase those harsh words from her brain. Over and over they replayed, driving the shaft of pain deeper into her heart.

Why did they have to ruin it?

Because they were right. Susannah Wells wasn't worthy of David Foster's love.

The harsh truth smacked her with reality. It was an illusion, a fantasy to think she could marry him. And she couldn't afford to deal in daydreams when her baby's future depended on her making rational, sensible choices.

Susannah shook off the fairy tale, rose from her dream world and prepared for her meeting with David. Her heart cried out to God, begging Him to help her say the hardest thing she'd ever had to say.

 

“You're a wonderful man, David.” Susannah's voice was quiet yet he heard every word. “You're gentle, caring, kind. You'd make a wonderful husband.”

“But not for you.” He sat down, amazed by the decimation that rushed to swamp him. Was it possible for love to root so deeply in such a short time?
Yes,
his
heart thumped. “Is it because you think I won't love your baby?”

“No.”

He felt relief that she knew him that well, at least.

Susannah shook her golden head, her green eyes darkening. “That's the last thing I'd worry about. You would be the best father any child could have.”

“You don't love me?” He noted the way her glance veered from his.

“I'm sorry, David. I can't accept your proposal.”

“Why?” he demanded, ashamed of his desperate need to know.

“I can't use you like that,” she whispered, her face sad.

“Use me?” He didn't get it.

“David, I'd ruin your life—embarrass you and Darla. Eventually you'd be ashamed when you realized I'm not someone worthy of being your wife.” She put her hand over her mouth and looked down.

“Ashamed of you?” he scoffed. “That's ridiculous. I've always been very proud of you.”

“Thank you for saying that.” Susannah hesitated, then shook her head. “But I can't marry you, David. I'm sorry. I think the best thing is for me to give my baby a chance with someone who won't mess up as I have, someone who will make sure he or she grows up happy. That way I won't risk making another mistake.”

“Won't you?” He studied her. “Or will you be making the biggest mistake of all?”

She met his gaze but said nothing.

So that was it? He'd gambled, taken a chance on telling her his true feelings, and lost. Now he was supposed to just give up?

“You haven't said anything about love, Susannah.”

“I—uh—”

David tilted her chin so she had to look at him. “Do you love me?”

She didn't speak but her green eyes flashed a warning not to push.

“So you won't risk even saying the words, let alone allow yourself to feel love.” He shook his head. “How sad that is—because I know you care for me. I think you love me almost as much as I love you.”

“David—”

“Don't you see, Susannah? Your fear has taken over.” He had to make her understand. “It controls you so much you won't let yourself believe that you can be more than the past. You won't stretch your mind and imagine yourself living with love, being the mother your child needs, being the wife I believe you can be.”

“Don't waste your feelings on me—”

“Waste?” he scoffed. “It's not a waste for me to love you, Susannah. It's a joy and a privilege. You enrich my life, you make it worth living. I finish work as fast as I can so I can come home and see you, talk to you and listen to your laugh.”

She looked at him, eyes welling with tears. “I'm not worth loving.”

“Then you don't know Susannah as I do because I find you eminently lovable,” he insisted. “I can hardly wait to hear how you're feeling and learn what you did each day. I ache to be included in your life, to be part of it all, to help you plan for that child.”

She was shaking her head but David couldn't stop. He was desperate to make her understand the place she'd carved out for herself in his heart.

“Do you want to know how much I care about you, Susannah?” He should have felt embarrassed to be so
needy, but he didn't. He was fighting for his future and that demanded honesty. “I question Darla every night to make sure nothing's wrong, that you didn't get too tired, that you weren't bored. I make her repeat conversations just so I can be part of your world. I can't get enough of you.”

“David—”

“I love you and your child, Susannah. So don't pretend it's to spare my feelings that you're turning me down.”

“I am trying to spare you,” she insisted. “My past isn't—”

“You're past is not you,” he said fiercely. “Not who you are today, or who you could be tomorrow. You are not that little Susannah your mother blamed.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. What you are is an amazing woman who doesn't spare herself for others. You've made an endless number of good choices since you came here. But all you can do is look backward and focus on the past.” Frustration surged inside him. “Why won't you risk being more than the old Susannah? Why aren't you willing to stretch yourself to be the mother your child needs?”

“People don't change, David,” she whispered. “Not that much.”

“You have.”

“I fell for a man who lied to me, and I believed his lies.” She sniffed, head bent, refusing to look at him.

His heart ached for her but he resolved to keep fighting.

“Okay, so you fell for the wrong man. Did you ever ask yourself why?” David grabbed her hands and hung on. “Because you didn't trust your inner warnings. That was a mistake people make every day.”

“A bad one.” Despair edged her voice.

“So?” He had to help her understand what she was throwing away. “You aren't that person anymore. You've grown, matured and taken responsibility for a baby. You've changed my life and certainly Darla's. You have a lot to give, Susannah. And by refusing to accept love, you're cheating all of us.”

“I'm not cheating anyone.” She yanked her hands from his. Bright spots of pink dotted her cheeks as she glared at him. “Don't you dare say that!”

Good, he wanted her to get worked up about her future and stop passively accepting what her mother had told her.

“You're cheating all of us, including yourself. But mostly you're cheating God.” David hunkered down to see into her eyes. “He's given you a chance to change the course of your life, Susannah. He's given me a deep, strong love for you that can withstand your past. And I believe you share that love. Are you going to accept His gift, or throw it away?”

He held his breath, waiting, praying, hoping.

An announcement came on asking visitors to leave the hospital. David ignored it. A nurse ducked her head in and told him visiting hours were over. He ignored that, too. And waited.

Finally Susannah inhaled. Then she straightened, met his gaze directly and shook her head.

“I'm sorry, David. Thank you for your proposal, but I have to refuse.” No quaver in her voice, no hesitancy—nothing that exposed what she was feeling inside. “You don't know how I wish that I could be the person you think I am. But I'm not.”

“That's it? You're just going to walk away from everything—me, your child, Darla, your future? God?”

“No, I'm planning my future the best way I know how.” Her voice was firm. “And I've made a decision.”

David knew he wasn't going to like the next part.

“I'm resigning, David.” Her big green eyes emptied of all emotion. “I promised Darla I'd take her to the pre-Easter presentation at the desert museum. That's in two weeks. It should be enough time for you to find someone else to work with Darla.”

“And the baby?” he managed to choke out.

“I want to thank you for all your help, David, but I think it's better if I find someone to adopt my child on my own,” she murmured. “But I will pay you what I owe you.”

“Money? Will that make you feel better, Susannah?” he asked as bitterness welled.

“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “Being able to pay what I owe is something I haven't always been able to do. That's just one of the things you don't know about me.”

David couldn't think of a response that wouldn't dump all his anger and hurt and frustration on her, and Susannah, with her pale cheeks and hurting eyes, didn't need the extra grief.

So he did the only thing he could.

He leaned forward and kissed her, pouring all the love he felt into that kiss. To his joy, she responded. When he finally drew back, they were both breathless.

“I love you, Susannah. That isn't going to change, no matter what you do or where you go. And because I love you, I will support whatever decision you make.” He smiled, touched her cheek. “You see, I have no worry about you. I know your heart. Maybe better than you do.”

He walked out of the room without looking back.

But his soul wept for all he'd lost.

T
ucson's warm desert wind stole moisture the way it stole energy. Susannah was drained.

She'd expected her last two weeks with Darla to be problematic, and they were. But not for the reasons she expected.

For one thing, Darla kept asking her about the baby and Susannah had no definitive answer.

Then there was David. He didn't press her to change her mind about marriage, didn't ask her why and didn't insist she rethink her decision. In fact, Susannah scarcely saw him, though each day there was some small reminder that he'd said he loved her.

A jar of the gourmet pickles she loved, a little book about the hilarious woes of pregnancy, a pretty bouquet in pinks or blues or both, a box of luscious chocolates, trinkets that were original and thoughtfully chosen, never duplicated.

Each one would appear with Susannah's name carefully printed on the tag in his precise writing with “Love, David” etched beneath. His manners were faultless when he arrived at home in the evening, and his demeanor as considerate as anyone could ask for. He was everything
a good friend would be—kind, considerate and very gentle.

Except Susannah wanted more.

Which was totally unreasonable, and she knew it. She'd refused his proposal. She couldn't expect him to hold her when she felt ugly and horrible, or understand that she ached to hear a word of encouragement. She waited, but he never inquired about her most recent doctor's visit or commented on the fact that her feet had become all but invisible.

But she wanted that. She wanted all of it. Badly.

Each day when she left his house in the evening, he said the same thing.

“I love you, Susannah.” Then he kissed her.

And each night she sat awake with her child doing acrobatics inside her, and wished the fairy tale she dreamed about could come true.

Susannah's days were full as she escorted Darla to her programs, watching the girl blossom with confidence in every activity. One evening she sat Darla down and told her she would be leaving shortly. Darla didn't argue, as she'd expected. Instead she accepted Susannah's words, hugged her tightly and told her she loved her. Then she'd disappeared to her room. Later Susannah heard her weeping.

Susannah found herself in tears often. It was so hard to think of never watching her child grow, take her first step, stumble and know she wouldn't be there to see that baby walk. Her heart squeezed tight whenever she realized she would never hear her child say “Mommy.” She felt a special bond with her baby now, a secret flush of wonder each time a tiny leg stretched or a hand reached up. The wonder of this life had turned her prayers to
God into pleas for help to do the hardest thing she'd ever contemplated.

But God didn't seem to be listening, because the ache intensified right along with her feelings of worthlessness. That, more than anything, reinforced her belief that she couldn't be a mom.

The warm spring air added a precious clarity to Susannah's days as the desert began to bloom and come alive in ways she'd never imagined. One afternoon Connie drove her out to the desert museum so she could get her bearings for her trip with Darla the following week, and to witness the first burst of cactus flowers.

“I never imagined there were so many cacti,” Susannah said when they'd wandered the paths for a while.

“Those are hedgehog, those are fishhook and those are saguaro cacti,” Connie pointed out. “Don't walk there,” she warned, grabbing Susannah's arm and drawing her back. “That's a Jumping Cholla and its spines are nasty.”

So many dangerous things in this world. Would her child's adoptive mother be sure to protect her baby from all of them?

“This will all be decorated for Easter. It's unbelievable. We came last year and Silver was tongue-tied for at least ten minutes.” Connie chuckled and waved a hand. “There will be specially trained museum volunteers all over the place. They'll be wearing white shirts. They can answer questions about the plants and animals in the Sonoran Desert—pretty well any that Darla can think up, I'm sure.”

“She wants to know everything.” Susannah smiled as pride swelled inside. “I think she wants to be a docent. Someday.”

“It would be perfect for her.” Connie took her arm to
steer her away from the cactus garden. “You look tired, Suze. There's a café. Let's stop and relax. We can get some coffee. Or tea.”

“And maybe some sorbet?”

“Sure.” Connie giggled. “You and Darla seem to share a fondness for that treat.”

“Yeah. Only she prefers pistachio and I love key lime.” Susannah laughed and pretended everything was fine, but inside she wept. She and Darla had grown so close. Who would love and care for this sister of her heart?

David. At least she knew Darla would be safe with him.

It was a relief to sit in the shade of the cottonwood trees and sip their hot drinks in between spoonfuls of frosty sorbet. Nearby a rock-surrounded garden burgeoned with the buzz of bees from the pollination gardens and cut the stillness of the warm afternoon.

“How are you feeling?” Connie asked.

“Big. Ugly. Tired.” Susannah forced a smile. “I don't seem to be able to sleep much at night anymore.” She touched her stomach. “She's always dancing.”

“Or maybe
he's
playing football,” Connie teased. “Are you sure you'll be well enough to trail around here with Darla? You're getting awfully close to your due date, aren't you?”

“Not that close. The doctor says I probably have at least two more weeks, and I will most likely go overdue.” Susannah made a face. “How much bigger can I get?”

“You're so small, it just shows a lot. You look beautiful,” Connie reassured. She was silent for several minutes before asking, “How are things with David?”

Tired of being alone and struggling to sort out her confusing feelings, Susannah had confided in Connie after David's hospital visit. Connie hadn't been surprised
to hear of David's proposal. Susannah had a hunch her friend had long since guessed at her feelings, too.

“He's fine, I guess. Very busy at work, I think, but he always takes time to compliment me about something each evening.” She didn't tell her friend about the good-night I love you's that kept her awake. “He keeps leaving me little gifts.” Susannah tipped back her head and let the breeze cool her neck. “I feel guilty but he won't stop no matter what I say.”

“Don't you like his gifts?” Connie asked, frowning.

“Oh, yes. I like being surprised by them.” Susannah called herself a fool to be so transparent. “Yesterday he left the catalogue from the college. He's gathered a lot of information on the courses I will need to take to get my degree. I didn't think he'd even heard me talk about it.”

“Good thing you'll have the summer to get used to the baby's schedule.” Connie smiled. “You can start your program in the fall and then add as you feel able.”

“I probably should have told you this before,” Susannah murmured, knowing it was way past time to tell her friend. “But I'm going to give the baby up for adoption.”

“Oh, Suze.” Connie's eyes brimmed with tears.

“I can't keep this baby,” she said firmly. “I'm a horrible role model.”

“That's not true.” Connie reached out and squeezed her hands, her face serious. “Listen, Susannah, I know you've been working hard to rebuild a relationship with God. Well, part of that needs to include letting the past go. It says in the Bible that God remembers our sins no more. If He can forget, why can't you?”

“David said the same thing. I haven't thought much about it,” she said.

“Well, think about it now,” Connie insisted.

“Why?” Susannah asked. “What difference will it make?”

“It will help you understand why you shouldn't keep hanging on to guilt from the past,” Connie said, her voice stern. “When God forgives, it's gone. He doesn't keep going back and harping on it over and over. What good does His forgiveness do if we keep bashing ourselves over the heads with our mistakes?”

“But you don't know—” Susannah gulped.

“No, I don't. But the thing is, God knows, Suze. And He's forgiven it all.”

Susannah sipped her tea and wondered how it felt to be clean, forgiven, made all right.

“Suze, there's always been part of your story that you held back. All that time at the farm—I've always known you never told me everything that happened with that fire.” Connie squeezed her fingers.

A shadow fell over them. They glanced up. David stood staring at Susannah. It was clear he'd overheard Connie's last remarks.

“David?” Connie blinked.

“Wade sent me. Silver fell off her bike. He wants you to meet them at the hospital.” He shook his head when she rushed to her feet. “She's fine, just needs a stitch. Darla's with her but she's calling for you.”

“I'll go with you.” Susannah pushed away her glass.

“No, stay. David can bring you back.” Connie glanced at him, waiting for his nod.

“Yes, I can. No problem. In fact, I could use a drink myself. It's hot this afternoon. Drive carefully,” he said to Connie.

“I will. See you later, Suze?” It was a question.

Susannah knew Connie was asking if she'd be all right with David. “Go, Connie. And kiss Silver for me.”

David hailed a passing vendor and purchased a drink. Then he sat down across from her, his stare intense.

“What?” she said, feeling as if she was under a microscope.

“I overheard Connie. And I agree with her. I think you have held back something that happened at that fire.” He leaned forward, touched her cheek with a forefinger. “I think you need to say it, to get it out so you can forget it.”

“I'll never forget,” Susannah said bleakly.

“Why?”

“Because I was the cause of that fire.” She couldn't look at David, couldn't bear to see the condemnation in his eyes. “I am the reason my sisters died.”

“I don't believe it.” He shook her head, as if that put an end to it.

“Believe it. I left a pan on the stove. It used to get so dry in our house in Illinois in the winter. I got nosebleeds sometimes. My mother told me that if I kept a pan of water on the stove, the moisture would help. So that's what I did.” She gulped as the memories flooded back, then turned to look at David. “I didn't turn it off before I left. It must have burned dry, got too hot and caught on a dishtowel or something. I was mad, you see. I wanted to get away and I never checked…”

The tears would not be stopped, grief for years of trying to erase the images of her little sisters alone, crying for help.

“Oh, Susannah.” David shifted his chair nearer and wrapped a loving arm around her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you were too young to be responsible for any of that—even if it did happen that way, and I'm not sure it did.”

“It did.” She scrubbed her cheeks, irritated by her emotions. Good thing she had said no to David. This was just something else he'd be ashamed of.

“It doesn't matter what happened. Don't you understand? God doesn't say that one mistake is worse than another, that He'll forgive some things but not all.” David smoothed her hair, his voice brimming with love that soothed. “He says ‘I forgive' and He means everything. Whatever it is. And He wants you to forgive yourself, too. He wants you to enjoy a full life, to experience love and joy. He planned that especially for you, Susannah.”

“I've done a lot of things I'm ashamed of.”

David only smiled.

“Doesn't matter,” he said. “You asked for forgiveness and God gave it. He doesn't hold it against you. He knows you, Susannah. He knows you were young and mixed up and hanging with the wrong group. He knows who you are, everything that you've done, and He loves you anyway.”

“I don't understand how that could be.” Susannah listened as David explained more about forgiveness on the way home. And she promised him she'd try and forgive herself for her past.

But late that night, as she sat on the window seat watching the moon slide in and out behind clouds, Susannah knew that while forgiveness might be possible, forgetting was not. She would carry those scars of guilt for the rest of her life.

And she couldn't bear it if her child found out. Adoption was the only way.

 

“So you're saying Susannah Wells's mother is still in jail?” David scribbled the information on a pad to study later.

“Not still—again. And not exactly jail,” the social worker said. “It's a facility to help Mrs. Wells deal with her personal issues. But yes, she has been committed to staying there until the doctors feel she can handle life on the outside. Given her refusal to accept any responsibility for her recent actions, my understanding is that she will not be leaving soon.” The social worker listed the most recent charges that had been added to Mrs. Wells's latest sentence.

She wouldn't give him specific details, of course. And David hadn't expected any.

“The lady has a problem with responsibility,” she finished.

“Me, too,” David muttered after he'd hung up.

But his problem was of another kind. He'd been so preoccupied with being overwhelmed with responsibility, he now realized he'd missed out on a lot of what life offered. Now he desperately craved the opportunity to be responsible for Susannah and the life she carried. But she would have none of it.

And he didn't know what to do about that.

For years after his father's death, David had believed he had to be in control of everything in his world. But when Susannah came along, she'd inadvertently forced him to realize that he needed to surrender the controls of his life. Recently Wade and Jared, too, had helped him realize he needed to completely surrender his past, present and future to God.