A Mother's Gift (Love Inspired) (9 page)

“S
he’s all wrinkly,” Clark said with the devastating honesty of a boy not quite three months shy of his fifth birthday.

Dixie smiled, too tired just then to chuckle as the other adults in the crowded hospital room did.

“That’s good,” Joel observed, holding Clark still with one hand as the boy knelt on the edge of the narrow hospital bed. Joel used the other hand to smooth Dixie’s hair. He hadn’t stopped touching her, in one way or another, since her labor had started fifteen hours earlier. “You were wrinkly, too, and look how good you turned out,” he told Clark.

“My goodness, Dixie, she looks just like you,” Vonnie said, and Bess concurred happily.

“Look, she’s got that little peak in her hairline, and curls, too.”

“Dark swirls all over her little head,” Dixie clarified for her husband’s sake.

“If she looks like her mom, then she’s a real beauty,” Joel said, bending down to kiss his wife’s forehead. With baby Elise cradled in her arms, their little family was connected by touch.

“I dunno,” Clark muttered doubtfully. “She’s kinda red.”

Joel ruffled Clark’s curls. “You mean you’re not still red? Last photo I saw of you, you were red as a beet.”

“Da-a-d!”

“No, it’s true.”

“Tell him, Mom! I’m not red.”

“He’s perfect, just like his sister.”

“Must be a newborn thing,” Joel said, grinning.

“She’ll be a pretty pink by morning,” Sam said in a gravelly voice. He had teared up. Again. He’d cried at their modest wedding just over two years ago, and ever since he’d wept at every happy moment in their lives, of which there had been many. Sometimes he wept when he spoke of Mark, too, which, conversely, he did with great ease now. Everyone did. Joel insisted. He wanted Clark to grow up with full knowledge of both of his fathers.

“Speaking of pictures,” Bess said, aiming her camera, “everyone smile.”

Instantly, Dixie was swept back to another time. Her heart swelled with love and, yes, a bit of sadness still. She suspected that sadness would always be with her. Oddly, however, it made the everyday joy that much sweeter. Still, she was taking no chances this time. She reached up a hand and caught the sleeve of her husband’s shirt, pulling him closer for the shot.

Bess snapped several photos of the happy family. “Oh,” she crooned, “look at you. You’re every mother’s dream.”

Joel beamed so widely Dixie marveled that his face didn’t split.

Bess waved a hand. “Okay. Nana and Pop’s turn.”

They took a group photo, then Joel and Clark drew away so Sam and Vonnie could flank the bed. Bess happily snapped away as Vonnie promised to return the favor. Bess, after all, was part of the family, and in a very real way, this had all grown out of her dream. Plus, she had proved to be the very best of mothers-in-law.

Some time later, while Bess coached Joel through his first diaper change, Sam looking on as Clark made choking sounds and provided running commentary, Vonnie sat on the edge of Dixie’s bed and took Dixie’s hand in hers.

“Bess, Sam and I are going to go soon and take Clark with us so you and Joel can get to know your daughter in private, and rest.”

Dixie smiled, weary but so very happy. “Thanks, Mom. Oh, and happy birthday.”

Vonnie brought her cheek to the top of Dixie’s head. “What a birthday gift!”

Joel looked up, not that he could see what he was doing to begin with, and grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “How’re you going to top this next year?”

“Twins,” Bess suggested.

“Bite your tongue,” Dixie scolded laughingly.

“This one’s good for a lifetime!” Vonnie exclaimed. “Pity it didn’t fall on Mother’s Day again.”

“No offense, Mom,” Dixie said, smiling, “but I’m glad it didn’t. This Mother’s Day is too special to be shared with anyone’s birthday. I can’t tell you how I’m looking forward to it.”

Sam blinked, looking slightly alarmed. “Does that mean you’re going to try to make it to church? I mean, isn’t it too soon?”

Dixie laughed, remembering a time when her father had badgered her about going to church on Mother’s Day. How thankful she was that he had!

“That’s between Dixie and the good Lord,” Joel said complacently. “Elise and I will leave it to them.” He got his hands under the freshly diapered baby’s little rump and head and lifted her to his face, nuzzling her cheek. “Isn’t that right, sugar lump?”

Sam looked as if he might cry again.

Dixie gazed up at her misty-eyed mother. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it. Dreams, I have discovered, have a way of coming true.”

“Oh, indeed they do,” Joel said, unerringly placing the babe in the crook of Dixie’s arm. “When they’re part of God’s plan, they always come true.”

Yes,
she thought,
just look at us.

What more could anyone ask for than living proof?

Dear Reader,

As a young widow, I dreamed that a hickory tree fell on my toddler son’s new swing set. A tall, dark-haired, bearded man rescued my son in that dream. Imagine my shock when that tree actually fell. It was nothing compared to my shock when I later met that man! Unnerved, I fell on my knees.

My anger after the death of my young husband had kept me away from the Lord for many months. Strangely, it was just after I confessed my sin of anger that I had the dream.

But what did it mean?

The man in my dream had no doubt. He actually asked me to marry him on our first date. I actually agreed! Thirty-three years ago.

God is so good!

God bless,

Kathryn Springer

To every woman who was once a little girl who loved horses (you know who you are!)

Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.

—
Psalms
37: 3, 4

“W
hat do you mean there’s a glitch? What kind of glitch? I’m supposed to sign the paperwork on Monday!”

Julia Windham rose to her feet so abruptly that the chair she’d been sitting on started to tip over. Her fingers curled around the wooden spindles—an attempt to steady not only the chair but the sudden, uneven skip of her heart.

“Please sit down, Julia. I’ll try to explain what happened.” The thread of tension in Lucy Robertson’s cheerful, customer-friendly voice hinted that she wasn’t looking forward to the task.

Julia’s gaze shifted from the Realtor to the bay window over her kitchen sink instead. On the opposite side of the pasture, the moss-covered roof of a house peeked through the trees. And a ribbon of gray smoke unfurled from the top of the stone chimney.

She turned accusing eyes on the woman seated at the kitchen table. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the…
the glitch
…is there?”

In my house,
she wanted to add.

The only thing that prevented her from saying the words out loud was the knowledge that the house didn’t belong to her yet. But it would. By ten o’clock on Monday morning.

Glitch or no glitch.

When Lucy had called earlier that morning and asked if she could stop by for a few minutes, Julia had assumed it was to talk about the closing. She hadn’t even thought it strange that the Realtor had chosen a Saturday morning to go over the final details. The town of Clear Springs, Wisconsin, was so small and full of down-home charm that it wasn’t unusual for people to discuss business over a cup of coffee at the diner rather than in an office building.

That cozy, everyone-knows-your-name way of life was one of the reasons Julia chose to live outside the city limits.

She took a restless lap around the room while she waited for Lucy to deny it.

Except that Lucy
didn’t
deny it.

“I know this is going to come as bit of a shock, Julia.” The Realtor sighed. “When you and I spoke on the phone after the attorney called and said that I should list the Kramer property, I had to go out of town for a few days. I left my…ah, mother…in charge of things. I did mention that I’d hired her part-time, didn’t I?”

Julia vaguely remembered that she had. But if she weren’t mistaken, Lucy had also mentioned that although Irma Robertson had recently obtained her real-estate license, her duties would be limited to answering the phone and scheduling showings.

“I think so. But you told Irma that I had already made a verbal commitment to buy the property, didn’t you?”

The twin spots of color that tinted Lucy’s cheeks answered the question. “I was only going to be gone a few days. I didn’t think it was necessary to tell her that you’ve always had a standing interest in the Kramer place.”

“And now someone else is interested.”

Unfortunately, Lucy didn’t deny that, either.

“The day after I left, someone called and said he was looking for a house in the country. I hadn’t even bothered to log the property into the computer, but when Mom was still on the phone with him, she spotted the notes I’d jotted down. She saw a new listing and a potential buyer and decided it was…”

“A chance to prove herself.” Julia finished the sentence when Lucy’s voice trailed off.

“No.” The Realtor shifted uncomfortably. “Divine intervention.”

“Divine intervention.” Julia repeated the words in disbelief.

“You know Mom.” Lucy’s shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “She doesn’t believe in coincidences.”

Julia wanted to argue that from where she stood, the situation seemed more like a cosmic joke than divine intervention. Especially given the fact that she and God hadn’t been on speaking terms for a long time.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. When Lucy had called with the news that Zach Kramer’s only surviving relative had finally decided to sell the house next door, she’d been thrilled.

And now some…outsider…wanted to buy it.

What Julia couldn’t figure out was why.

The acreage itself wasn’t anything to get excited about—a small notch of land near the creek that bordered Julia’s property. Tangled skeins of wild grapevine wove through the branches of the oak trees that circled the unkempt yard. The changing seasons had gradually taken their toll on the clapboard farmhouse, whittling away at it until only a glimpse of its original charm remained.

Did the person interested in buying it want to turn the house into a weekend retreat? Or fix it up and resell it for a profit?

Neither possibility set well with Julia.

“The client drove up and took a look at it….” Lucy paused and a shiver of unease skated down Julia’s spine.

Every time Lucy paused, the situation got more complicated. And Julia didn’t need complicated.

“So Irma gave him permission to spend the night there?” she guessed. “Is that something you let prospective buyers do now? Try out the property before they buy it?”

“Prospective buyers, no.” Lucy studied the lace tablecloth as if she’d never seen one before. “Buyers…yes. The paperwork was signed an hour before I got back into town late yesterday afternoon. The property officially belongs to a man named Nick Delaney now.”

“Wind River Farm. Does our farm have a name, Dad? Can we give it one?”

Nick Delaney suppressed a smile as he turned down the paved driveway just beyond the weathered sign Beth had spotted. If he could only figure out a way to bottle and distribute his ten-year-old daughter’s enthusiasm, he’d be a multimillionaire.

“I don’t see why we can’t. Although it’s not really a farm.”

“Not yet.” Beth bounced on the seat, her lively gaze taking in the scenery around them. “But it will be.”

“How about you and I move in first? Before we start collecting animals like Noah?”

“Or we could all move in at the same time.”

“Come to think of it, the house does have a unique,
country
odor.” Nick couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “The animals should feel right at home in our living room.”

“The house smells great.” Beth smiled blissfully, as if she’d spent the night in a four-star hotel rather than a drafty farmhouse. “Everything is great. I can’t wait for Granna Claire to see it. She’s been praying that we would find just the right house. And we did.”

Nick hoped his mother would feel the same way when she got her first glimpse of the place that Irma Robertson, the woman who had given them an official tour of the place, had cheerfully referred to as “a handyman’s dream.”

To most people, it probably looked more like a nightmare.

“Do you think Ms. Windham will like the brownies I made for her?”

Another bounce. Another question. He’d been peppered with them from the moment Beth poked her head out of the sleeping bag that morning. Only this time, Nick wasn’t sure how to answer.

The garrulous Irma Robertson, who’d provided him with brief but thorough background information on most of the residents of Clear Springs, had become strangely evasive when Nick had inquired about their closest neighbor. The only thing she’d said was that Julia Windham lived alone and “kept to herself.”

Nick filled in the blanks, understanding it to mean that the elderly woman preferred to be left alone. Unfortunately, it hadn’t translated the same way to his outgoing daughter.

While Nick had spent the majority of the morning taking an inventory of the repairs the house would need, Beth had been busy, too.

She’d added a box of brownie mix to the cart when they’d made a quick trip to Clear Springs to pick up a few groceries the night before. And his daughter had quickly set him straight about who was going to reap the fruit of her labor. When he reached for the pan cooling on the scarred Formica counter, she had informed him the brownies were for Ms. Windham.

A “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

Nick didn’t want to point out that since they were the ones who were new to the neighborhood, it made more sense that
they
be on the receiving end of dessert.

But he’d given in, because generosity—like flossing—was another important quality that Claire Delaney had encouraged in her granddaughter. It was up to him to keep the torch lit.

As a single dad, Nick had come to rely on his mother’s wisdom and experience. She’d braved the shopping malls for school clothes in the fall and organized Beth’s annual birthday parties. Her sense of humor and deep faith had helped smooth out the rough spots after Liz died.

Nick had finally given up trying to repay his mother because he didn’t think he could. The opportunity, however, had unexpectedly presented itself on Christmas Eve. A widower named Robert Owens had been visiting their church and happened to sit next to them during the fellowship time after services.

Nick figured it was the first time in Claire Delaney’s life that she had deliberately ignored someone. Which told him more than anything how impressive the man had been to his mother.

It also gave him an opportunity to do what any good son would for the mother who had put her life on hold for eight years in order to make his a little easier.

He and Beth had invited Robert over for dinner.

Robert had accepted the invitation. And the next. In fact, the retired surgeon wisely had accepted every dinner invitation that followed until he’d won Claire over.

It hadn’t taken long. A month ago, Nick had walked his mother down the aisle. Beth had been the maid of honor.

Before she had left for her honeymoon cruise, Mom had ambushed him, suggesting that maybe it was time for him to make a new start, too. At first, Nick had rejected the advice.

A new start? He was doing fine. He and Beth were both doing fine.

But she’d made him promise that he would pray about it.

In a roundabout way, the answer to that prayer was the reason he and Beth had ended up trading a two-bedroom condo in the Windy City for a fixer-upper that looked as if it belonged on the set of
Green Acres.

“Look at her barn!” Beth squealed. “It’s huge.”

From the expression on his daughter’s face, Nick could tell she was trying to determine just how many horses a barn that size could hold.

As they pulled up to the house, the curtains in the window drifted shut. It occurred to Nick that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drop in unannounced on an elderly woman who lived alone on an isolated country road.

“Beth, why don’t we—”
Come back another time,
he was going to say. After they’d called first.

“Get the brownies, Dad!” His daughter had unbuckled her seat belt and was already scrambling out of the car.

By the time Nick had closed the car door, Beth was halfway up the flagstone walkway that led to the front door.

Because it was tucked away in the sheltering circle of a stand of oak trees, Nick hadn’t realized the house was so big.

Or so imposing.

His gaze moved from the stately two-story brick home to the L-shaped barn farther down the driveway. Several outbuildings fanned out around it, all of them painted an identical shade of brick-red and trimmed in white. Flower boxes lined the multipaned windows of an oversize shed, ready for spring planting.

There was an understated elegance to everything. In fact, it looked more like a country estate than a farmhouse. And it was a far cry from the house that he and Beth were going to call home.

Nick resisted the sudden urge to check for a servants’ entrance at the back.

By the time he reached Beth’s side, she’d enthusiastically tried out the bronze door-knocker several times.

She frowned up at him. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“That’s all right.” Nick tried to hide his relief. It was probably better this way. “We can leave the brownies on the porch with a note.”

“But her dog might eat them.”

“I didn’t see a dog.”

“Neither did I, but she has to have one. It’s a farm, Dad.”

Nick knew there was no point in arguing. Beth firmly believed that everyone who lived in the country would have as many animals as possible. Just because they could.

“Fine. I’ll find a safe place for them while you run back to the car and write Ms. Windham a note. There’s paper in the glove compartment.”

Beth looked disappointed but darted back to the car to carry out her part of the mission.

While Nick tried to decide the best place to keep the pan of brownies away from a dog that may or may not exist, the front door opened.

A woman stepped onto the porch but she wasn’t the elderly neighbor Nick was expecting to see.

Not even close.

This woman was in her mid to late twenties. Tall and slender, her cap of honey-blond hair framed delicate features—sculpted cheekbones, a small, straight nose and a pair of stunning, violet-blue eyes.

Nick blinked.

Because the cool look in those stunning, violet-blue eyes made him sorry he
hadn’t
checked for that servants’ entrance.

“I’m…We’re looking for Julia Windham. I’m Nick Delaney.” He extended his hand. “My daughter, Beth, and I are moving into the house down the road. We wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she touched her fingers to his in the barest of handshakes before quickly pulling her hand away.

“I’m Julia Windham.”