Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (38 page)

Diabetes. The diagnosis terrified him and he fought not to let her know how scared he was. She might go into diabetic ketoacidosis if her blood sugar got too high or, worse, if he had to actually use the glucagon kit the hospital had given them for low blood sugar.

He'd been through a lot of things in his life, but he'd only had himself to worry about. Now he was responsible for two people and it was a first for him.

Matt ran a hand through his hair and stared ahead, seeing his daughter's face as she'd slept in the hospital bed. Her long hair spread on the pillow, she'd looked more like six years old than nearly ten.

Suddenly everything in his life shifted. The seriousness of Claire's disease left him reeling. Nothing was more important than his daughter.

His daughter.

She'd lost her mother and now had to rely on a father she didn't know. It hadn't helped any that he had been out of the country for most of the past ten years. When he'd finally met Claire they were like strangers. The irony was that they were the only family they each had left.

Emotion choked him and he pushed aside the stack of diabetic literature on the table, fighting anger. Rage aimed at himself mostly, because there was no point in harboring a grudge against the woman who had kept his child a secret. He was as guilty as she was for their reckless act of impulsiveness. Claire was the one caught in the middle. She'd never known her father and now her mother was gone.

In the center of the table sat his Bible. He hadn't touched it since church last Sunday. Matt pulled the soft, leather-covered book closer. When he flipped through the pages the bookmark tucked in the very middle stopped him. Of course he knew what he would find nestled next to Psalm 31: a photo of him and Anne on their wedding day. Some days the picture made him smile. Other days the pain remained unbearable.

Today he closed the book as quickly as he'd opened it.

He glanced at his watch again. “Five minutes, Claire.”

Stanley barked as Claire entered the kitchen a moment later.

Her face was unreadable and expressionless as usual. Damp brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders. She wore a pink hoodie and blue jeans. He could have dealt with anger and defiance. That had been his attitude du jour, growing up with an absentee mother and a drunken father. But this indifference? Matt had no idea how to reach through the wall she'd constructed. He was an adult and he was afraid of a nine-year-old.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her face a mask.

“To see your new friend, Anne.”

A tiny light flickered in her brown eyes. “The nurse?”

“Yes. I called and we're going to her house for some diabetic instruction.”

Claire's shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Matt nodded, realizing that he had done something right. That surprised him, though he wasn't going to pat himself on the back just yet. One step at a time. That was his new motto.

Claire was pleased and that was a good thing.

“How about if you grab the testing supplies and then get Stanley into the truck for me?”

She nodded.

When they were settled, he punched Anne's address into the GPS and they drove in silence toward the outskirts of Paradise, past Patti Jo's Café and Bakery, the hardware store and several novelty shops. Pedestrian traffic was steady in the small town where giant planters of geraniums and trailing ivy decorated the sidewalks.

Summer brought tourists escaping the heat of Denver and Colorado Springs to the moderate-to-cool climate of the mountain town for fishing, hiking and other activities. The town was picturesque and quaint, nestled in the San Luis Valley with the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the north and the San Juan Mountains to the west.

As they started outside of town onto a rural road something began to click in Matt's mental map. Anne lived on the other side of the lake. They'd met in college and he'd never actually been to her house, though he'd lived just a couple of miles northwest in the even smaller town of Four Forks. She'd never wanted him to meet her great-aunt, as though she'd suspected all along that her guardian would disapprove of their relationship.

That should have been his first red flag. But he'd been young and had thought that love conquered all—including his “wrong side of the tracks” background. Now he knew to listen to those warning flags as a spiritual first line of defense. Today the closer they got to Anne's house the more his radar alarmed loud and clear.

He drove for a few miles following the directions on the GPS map, all the while watching for a location where he could safely pull off and onto the shoulder. Easing the truck to the right, he put on his emergency flashers.

“What are you doing?” Claire asked.

“Just checking something.” Matt reached into the backseat and pulled out the project plans. He carefully removed the sheath from the cardboard cylinder and unrolled the inner documents.

“Can you hold this?”

Claire held one side of the huge blueprint and he held the other.

His heart hammered. Sure enough. The very plans he'd helped create were about to complicate his life. Big-time.

Plans on paper were supposed to be adjustable. Erase them, start over and redo the mistakes. Right?

Well, it was too late for that. Everything had been set in motion. Official documents had been approved and registered. Construction had begun. Demolition permits had been filed.

The map that lay on the plans spread in front of him indicated that straight ahead they would turn right onto a narrow road. The town, in consultation with his firm, planned to expand and widen this particular rural road, providing a very necessary secondary egress to Paradise Lake and the development homes and condos.

Urban renewal—except this time it was in the country. But the theory was the same. The town of Paradise had the right of eminent domain: a legal instrument to move people and property for development projects that improved the town.

In Paradise that meant that all three of the houses along that road were slated to be razed. Homeowners had been given generous market value offers and they'd receive positive responses from all but one.

The single holdout, by virtue of no response, was address twenty-two-fifty.

Too late, he realized that twenty-two-fifty was the house that belonged to Lily Gray.

What were the odds?

Ten years later and Anne still lived with her aunt. Matt fought the desperate urge to turn the truck around, go back home, pack his bags and head straight to Denver.

If that wasn't bad enough, and it absolutely was, he realized he was about to come face-to-face with Lily Gray after all these years. The woman he blamed for turning Anne against him. For destroying the happy ending he'd planned for his life.

He began to roll up the blueprint, carefully tucking the document back into the protective tube.

“Is something wrong?” Claire whispered in her soft voice.

Matt released a breath and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“What is it?”

“Hard to explain,” he answered. “But it's nothing that a little prayer won't fix.”

Claire frowned slightly and cocked her head, her amber eyes clear. “Do you pray about everything?”

“I try to.” He turned and fully faced his daughter. “Do you pray, Claire?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“That's good, because God is the best daddy either of us has. He won't ever let us down. Today I am definitely going to need His help. And if today is one of those ‘sometimes' for you, I'd like a few prayers, as well.”

She blinked and studied him, as though digesting his words, and then offered him a small nod.

The gesture comforted him as he signaled and got back on the road.

After driving a quarter mile farther he turned right. He saw the house long before the GPS device announced their arrival. This was the house Anne had talked about all the time when they were together. The home she was raised in as an orphan by her aunt. He'd recognize the cookie-cutter-trimmed Victorian from her descriptions. Architecturally he could appreciate the amazing structure with its period corbels, fish-scale shingles and cedar shakes.

Matt regretted that he hadn't actually looked at the house before this, instead relying only on the geographic maps to plan the construction.

Would he have changed his mind and found another way to the lake if he'd seen how unique it was? If he'd known it was Anne's home?

He'd never know for sure. “That's her house?” Claire breathed.

“Looks like it is.”

“It sort of looks like a castle,” she said, talkative for the first time ever.

“What makes you think that?”

“Look at that pointy room there with the long windows.”

“A turret.”

“Turret,” she repeated. “That's a room where a princess lives. Like Rapunzel.”

“A princess,” Matt murmured. He shook his head, trying to see the big house from his daughter's eyes.

“I never thought about it that way, Claire. But I can see you're absolutely right.”

Yeah, it was a castle with a princess inside. A dark-haired princess with chocolate-brown eyes who apparently had no clue that her castle was under siege.

CHAPTER FOUR

“T
hey're here,” Aunt Lily called. Excitement bubbled over in her voice. “Oh, hurry, hurry.”

“I'm right behind you.” Anne smoothed her hair and took a deep breath as her aunt pulled back the heavy, paneled curtains for another peek.

“My, isn't he handsome?” Lily said, cocking her head to the side. “He looks a little familiar. Do I know him?”

Anne swallowed and began a hasty prayer under her breath.

“Oh, look they brought their dog,” she announced.

“He's a big fellow.”

“Yes. Six foot three.”

Lily laughed. “I meant the dog.” She turned to Anne and smiled. “My, you look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you.” Anne glanced down at her black slacks and rose-print blouse and removed a small thread. She tucked her hair behind her ear and fussed with her bangs.

She'd obsessed over what to wear this morning, finally deciding to go casual yet professional. However, confidence in her apparel and being fully prepared to instruct on Type 1 Diabetes still failed to take the edge off her churning stomach or to still her trembling hands.

When the doorbell rang Aunt Lily carefully maneuvered her walker down the short hall. She straightened her dress and pushed her shoulders back, ready to greet her guests. A huge grin lit up her elfin face as Anne opened the door.

“Hello, hello,” Lily brightly called.

Behind the screen stood Matt, bigger than life on crutches, with Claire by his side, her arms protectively crossed. A pink backpack with all her diabetic supplies hung from her wrist. Stanley panted eagerly, ready for action, though he obediently waited on the sidewalk, his tail slapping the cement.

“Ma'am.” Matt nodded and met Anne's gaze. His was apologetic and revealed the depth of his nervousness. “I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It's not a problem.” She smiled at his daughter. “How are you feeling, Claire?”

“Better,” the little girl murmured.

“Aunt Lily, this is Mr. Clark and his daughter, Claire.”

“How wonderful to meet you,” Aunt Lily said with enough perky energy and enthusiasm to cover the potential awkwardness of the moment.

Confusion registered on Matt's face as he stared at Lily. He quickly regrouped.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Gray.”

“Call me Lily. Oh, we're going to be friends. I can see that.” She glanced at his ankle boot and crutches. “What happened?”

“A little accident.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

Still looking perplexed, Matt held up a dog dish and a water bottle. “Would it be okay for Stanley to wait out here?”

“We can do better than that,” Lily said. “The backyard has a little gazebo. He could wait there and have some shade.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“I like your house,” Claire said, her gaze moving past Anne and Lily to peek down the long front hall.

“Well, thank you, dear. It is very special.”

“Claire says it reminds her of a castle,” Matt added.

“A castle?” Lily smiled at the girl. “You're very right. That's exactly what my grandmother had in mind when the house was built for her.”

Lily turned to Anne. “Why don't you show Mr. Clark and his dog the way to the backyard? This young lady and I will meet you there. I'll give her a little tour of our home along the way.”

Claire's eyes widened with delight and Anne could only blink with pleasant surprise at her aunt's take-charge attitude as she held open the door and ushered Claire in. Today Aunt Lily was very lucid and Anne couldn't help but wonder if it was Claire who was responsible.

“Your aunt isn't exactly what I remembered,” Matt said as he tucked his crutches beneath his arms.

“Ten years is a long time. And as I recall, you had about twenty minutes in her presence.”

“Yeah, well,
as I recall
, twenty minutes was pretty much all I needed.”

Anne could hardly refute his words. Her aunt had been ruthless in her dismissal of Matt, forbidding Anne from contacting him in any way, shape or form.

The two of them were silent as Stanley led the way, trotting gingerly on the wide, shale paver path along the side of the house and pausing on occasion to wait for Matt to catch up on his crutches.

Were they both thinking of the past?

“Your aunt really doesn't remember me?”

“Not today she doesn't. She has some vascular dementia and was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Some days her personality, temperament and memory fluctuate like the weather.”

He frowned. “Claire will be okay with her?”

Anne stiffened. “Yes. Of course. She's not dangerous.”

“Sorry. I'm not familiar... I didn't mean to imply...” He shrugged.

She knew she should say something gracious to let him off the hook, but the words eluded her. The situation was becoming more awkward by the minute, just as she'd feared.

When they passed the corner of the house, the yard came into view. Stanley was desperate for freedom and made his needs clear as he tugged on the leash and whined in an effort to reach the expansive and lush lawn spread in front of them.

The sight was one Anne never took for granted. An acre of green grass that rivaled any golf course stretched all the way from the house to a border of dense trees.

“Wow, that's quite a yard. How do you get the grass so green?” he asked.

“My aunt spent years cultivating just the right mixture of seed and fertilizer. She used to mow it with a riding mower herself. Now we pay a local kid to take care of it. But this yard is her pride and joy.”

“All this is your property?”

She nodded. “On the right we're bordered by those apple trees and lilac bushes.” She pointed left and smiled. “That old barn is on the property line to the left.”

“No fence?”

She scoffed. “Would you fence in this beauty? We don't have any close neighbors on this side of the road, except an occasional family of deer, so why bother?”

“Good point,” he said, suddenly frowning in thought.

When he shifted his stance Anne glanced down at his walking boot. “How's the ankle?”

“Annoying.”

“Then I imagine it would be a waste of time for me to mention you should be taking it easy for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours until the swelling goes down.”

“You would be correct.”

Anne resisted a smile. Stubborn. That hadn't changed, either.

Stanley's whining became urgent and this time his tugs on the leash were accompanied by low groans of impatience. “Okay to let him run? He can barely stand being on this leash.”

“I don't blame him. Of course. Let him have some fun.”

Matt held both crutches with one hand and knelt to release the leash. Immediately, Stanley shot forward, nearly knocking Matt off his feet. The crutches dropped to the ground and he pitched forward.

Anne grabbed the tail of Matt's shirt, yanking him back from a certain fate with the ground, as he, too, struggled for his balance.

“Whoa. Thanks,” he said as he righted himself.

When she picked the crutches up from the ground and handed them to him their hands brushed. She nodded, her face warming at the brief touch.

For minutes they both stared quietly at Stanley, a diversion from the awkwardness of the moment. The Lab raced down to the woods, then ran in circles, barking as he chased a bird that soared across the clear blue summer sky overhead.

“That's one happy dog,” Anne commented.

“We're renting a house in town with only a small patch of grass.”

“I wish we had a dog to take advantage of this yard.”

“Why don't you?” he asked. “There are plenty of animals waiting to be rescued and loved at local shelters. That's where we got Stanley.”

“It's not that simple. I have a challenging work schedule. I'm constantly on call to back up my team.”

“That's the nice thing about a dog. Forces you to go home at the end of the day, because you know they're depending on you.”

She mulled his words. “I'll take that under consideration.”

“Good. I mean it,” he responded.

Stanley stopped running and began to roll over and over in the grass. Anne couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

“Do you suppose it's true that there aren't any fleas at this elevation?” Matt asked.

“You grew up in Four Forks. Shouldn't you know the answer to that?”

“I've never had a dog before.”

She shook her head. “There's a new vet in town. Maybe you should ask.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

Anne turned and pointed to the back of the house. “Aunt Lily and Claire will be on the sunporch or the deck. There's a stone path behind the rose garden that leads to the gazebo. Plenty of shade if you take your dog there.”

“Thanks. I'll do that.”

“Um, Matt, I suggest you take your time out here.”

He frowned in question.

“I think it would be best if my time with Claire is one-on-one for now.”

“My presence is a problem?” His eyes narrowed in challenge.

“What I'm saying is that I think your daughter has a lot going on in her head right now. It's normal for her to be confused. And angry.”

“What? Angry? She hasn't been angry. I only wish she'd show emotion.”

“I've been where Claire is. Trust me. She's angry, all right. If she's reaching out to a stranger for help when she's hit rock bottom, then she's very needy, as well. How long has it been since she lost her mother?”

“Six months. But her mother had been sick for almost a year. Claire was living with the local pastor's family for some time. They tracked me down about six weeks ago.” Matt paused. “Fact is, I, um... I didn't even know I had a daughter.”

Her head jerked back in surprise. “You just met Claire?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Anne swallowed, trying to fit all the pieces of the timeline together. There were too many questions that she didn't have the courage to ask right now because the answers were something she wasn't ready to deal with.

“For the record, all I want is what's best for Claire,” Matt said. “Tell me what to do and I'll do it. I'll do anything I have to do to ensure she gets better.”

“Her world is chaos right now. If I can provide a safe place for her emotionally, then I'll be able to encourage her to participate in her care.”

“Okay. Sure.” Matt cleared his throat. “Sorry. I didn't mean to sound so defensive before.” He raised a hand in gesture. “Look, Anne, I want to apologize for all this.”

“This?”

“Inviting ourselves to your home. Barging into your life. It wasn't my idea.”

“I realize that. But I like your daughter and, as I said, if this will encourage her to take an interest in her health, then it's a win-win. Right?”

“It seems to me that I'm getting more out of the deal than you are.”

Anne nodded to the back of the house where her aunt and Claire now sat outside on the deck in oversize wicker rockers.

“Aunt Lily is thrilled to have company. I haven't seen her so excited in a long time. Most of her friends have either passed away, are unable to drive or are in a residential care facility in Alamosa. She gets a monthly visit from the Paradise Women's Auxiliary, and occasionally goes to Alamosa, but most of the time she's bored. This is a real treat.”

“If you say so, but I can't help but think that your arm was twisted.”

“I can assure you that it was my decision. I'm not easily persuaded to do what I don't want to do, and I'm happy to do this for Claire.”

“Right. For Claire.” He cleared his throat. “So you don't find this whole situation awkward?”

“Excuse me?”

He stopped walking. “Anne?”

She was forced to look him at him. The blue eyes were unwavering as they searched her face.

“How long are you going to continue to ignore the elephant in the room?” he asked quietly.

Releasing a breath, Anne stared straight out toward the faded wood of the old barn, imagining herself anywhere but here right now. “I'm hardly ignoring anything,” she said, her voice harsher than she'd planned.

She heard his sharp breath before he spoke.

“Shouldn't I be the one harboring a resentful attitude?” he said.

“Is that how I sound? I'm sorry. I don't mean to be short.” She, too, took a calming breath. “I want you to know that I find this just as awkward as you do, Matt, probably more so. I keep trying to remember that we were kids back then. We're adults now. We've moved on.”

“Moved on. Is that what we grown-ups have done?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“No regrets, huh?”

She sighed, suddenly weary. “Is this really the time to discuss the past?”

“If not now, when?”

She faced him again. His jaw was set as if he was biting back words.

“What do you want from me, Matt?”

“Maybe a few answers. Closure.”

“All this time and you haven't had closure?” She looked pointedly across the lawn to where Claire now stood on the steps, her gaze on them, waiting.

“Isn't your daughter evidence that you closed the door on your past a long time ago?”

He winced. “Claire was conceived during a period when I was hurting and confused. Her mother and I were passing strangers. That wasn't a time in my life I'm proud of.”

Anne looked away, not sure she wanted to hear any more and, at the same time, knowing she'd asked for this.

“All I'm saying is that I'd like some time to talk. Don't you think maybe you owe me that much?”

“Owe you?” She shook her head. “I'm not keeping score. The only thing I know for certain is that we have the same goals right now. That's your daughter's health. You and I can talk if you insist. However, not until Claire is on the road to recovery.”