Читать книгу The Doctor's Family - Lenora Worth - Страница 10

“What did you say to that man, Arabella?” Jasmine asked the minute Arabella got back from dropping the girls off at preschool. “Cade and I didn’t stay to eat last night but I saw that silver car when we left.”

“I found out why he’s here,” Arabella replied to Jasmine’s rapid-fire question.

Yep, she knew why Jonathan Turner was here. Just thinking about the man had kept her up most of the night. He contradicted everything she wanted to believe about him. He’d gone about things the wrong way, but after talking to him she could almost understand his hesitancy. The man was single and a surgeon. Arrogance personified. Only he didn’t seem all that arrogant. He seemed lost and lonely.

“Who is he?” Jasmine munched on dry cereal, her eyes wide with worry.

Arabella stared at her own cold toast, wondering the same thing. “He’s a doctor from Denver.”

“Why is he here?”

“He was looking for a family member.” Asking God to help her find the strength to tell Jasmine the truth, Arabella closed her eyes and rubbed her temple with two fingers. “And … he’s found that person.”

Early-morning sunshine glinted through the kitchen windows, making Arabella wish she could enjoy the pretty fall day. She had to tell Jasmine the whole story, but so far she hadn’t found the courage. Grabbing her third cup of coffee, she took another sip.

Jasmine tapped her fingers on the counter. “You know something, don’t you? You’re not telling me everything.”

Arabella had to admire Jasmine’s shrewd no-nonsense detector. “There is more… . Go get dressed and we’ll talk.”

Jasmine frowned then headed upstairs, the slump of her slim shoulders breaking Arabella’s heart.

An hour later, Arabella sat with Jasmine in the kitchen. The old house was quiet, its bones creaking and shifting with a familiar kind of sway that usually comforted Arabella. But today it only added pressure to the tight fist holding at her heart.

“Talk to me,” Jasmine said, taking Arabella’s hand in hers. “Is that man here to stop my wedding? Is this something about my daddy?”

Arabella squeezed the girl’s hand, unable to speak.

Jasmine pulled her hand away, the tiny solitaire Cade had given her when he’d proposed twinkling like a baby star on her finger. “I won’t give up Cade. I don’t care how many spies Charley Clayton hires. I don’t care if my own daddy comes back and tries to stop me.”

Arabella winced at that declaration. “That man—he’s not a spy, Jasmine. He’s … he’s your uncle.”

Arabella hadn’t planned to blurt it out that way, but the girl was about to hyperventilate.

“What?” Jasmine held a hand to her chest, her eyebrows lifting, her mouth widening. “What are you talking about?”

“His name is Jonathan. Jonathan Turner. He’s a doctor in Denver and he only recently found out about you.”

Jasmine sank down in her seat. “You’re kidding, right? My daddy has a brother?”

“Honey, I’m not teasing you. I wish I were. And … there’s something else you need to know.”

The girl shook her head. “I can’t take anything else. I can’t believe he’s my uncle. So he’s here to see me, right? That’s why he was following us and hovering around?”

“Yes, but he didn’t mean to scare us. He only wanted to make sure he’d found you.”

“Now that he’s found me, what does he want with me?”

Arabella had to make Jasmine understand, but how could she when she didn’t even understand herself?

“Honey, he had some bad news.”

“What kind of news?” Jasmine backed away as if she already knew what was coming. “What else?”

“Your daddy … he died about a month ago. In a car accident.”

Jasmine didn’t move. She sat staring at Arabella, her mouth parted, her eyes vivid and bright, a raging river of doubt and shock. Finally, her voice cracked. “My daddy’s dead?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” Arabella reached for Jasmine but the girl pushed her away. “I … I need to talk to Cade. I want Cade.”

Then Jasmine rushed out of the kitchen and straight upstairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Arabella tossed her cold coffee in the sink, then stood staring out at the fall leaves in the backyard. She didn’t want the girls to pick up on her tension. They’d be in preschool for a few hours, but what about lunch? She’d invited Jonathan to come here to meet Jasmine.

Deciding she’d tell their teacher to take them over to the Mother’s Day Out program a lot of the moms in Clayton depended on, Arabella breathed a little easier. That would get her through this awkward lunch at least. Then she’d get the girls and settle into some afternoon baking.

But everything would be different by then. Although she didn’t relish this new development, she squared her shoulders and decided to get on with things. Some changes you just couldn’t stop or fix—like death or divorce or feuding families. She’d tried to fix all of those things and failed miserably.

“I need You, Lord,” she said on a whispered breath. “I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m tough and You’ve seen that. I never knew my daddy and I watched my mother walk away. I watched my husband pack his bags. I stayed by my grandpa, watching him die when no one else would help. I’ve tried to raise my girls the right way. But this—this is throwing me for a loop, Lord. I need You to help me get through this.” Jasmine had come to mean so much to Arabella. She’d already been bracing for Jasmine’s wedding and now this. She’d miss the girl, whatever Jasmine decided.

But after trying with all her might to stop the wedding, Arabella had a change of heart. Maybe because life was so fragile and unsure or maybe because underneath all her bravado, she still believed in love. How would the formidable Grandpa George have handled this situation? He’d probably hire someone to run the doctor out of town. But George Clayton hadn’t been all bad. She remembered how he’d come into the hospital room when the girls were born. He’d stared down at the three little pink bundles without a word. But a single tear had fallen down his rusty old cheek. Then he’d turned and walked out of the room.

That tear had told her more than any words ever could.

Grandpa George loved his great-granddaughters. And he loved Jasmine, too. He’d want Arabella to fight for her home and for her children, including Jasmine.

Why had God allowed them to love Jasmine, to make the girl one of their own, only to bring Jonathan Turner here with bad news? Would he entice Jasmine with his wealth and position? Or would he promise her the moon but then leave and forget her? Jasmine had suffered enough.

Arabella had suffered enough, too. Was she being selfish, wishing Dr. Turner had never found his niece? Like it or not, Jasmine had grown up and was to be married in December. Arabella would have to let her go, one way or another.

Arabella had a hard time letting go, though. Her own mother had left her here in Clayton when Arabella, a teenager at the time, had refused to move away. She’d stayed for love, or so she thought. She’d married too young, and before she knew it, her marriage had fizzled out like a dud stick of dynamite. People were always leaving her, and she was tired of it.

What next? she wondered.

Outside, the leaves fell from the trees with a gentle abandonment that seemed to Arabella like a release. She wished she could just drift away like that. But she had responsibilities. She had to face reality. She couldn’t let her protective feelings put a wedge between Jasmine and her. There really wasn’t anything she could do, except pray that Jasmine would be happy, no matter where she wound up.

Arabella spent the next hour making soup and baking rolls for lunch. Only she didn’t have an appetite and she couldn’t get Jasmine to come downstairs.

Cade called Arabella’s cell. “What’s wrong with Jasmine? She left me a message, and she was crying.” His voice filled with concern. “Is this about the wedding? Did somebody say something to her? I called back but she wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone.”

“Are you coming over here?” Arabella asked, hoping the boy could comfort Jasmine but dreading all that she’d have to tell him. “We can talk then.”

“I’m finishing up some things with Mr. Jameson at the Circle C. I’ll be over there when I’m done.”

“That’s fine,” Arabella told him. Cade had big plans to become a doctor, but right now he needed a steady income and the Circle C ranch needed workers. Thankfully, Cody paid him a fair wage for a good day’s work. “Come on over when you’re done. I’ll be here through lunch, so Jasmine won’t be alone. Just get here when you can and maybe you can talk to her. She won’t talk to me right now.”

She was glad she’d told the girls’ preschool teacher to take them next door to Mother’s Day Out. Normally, she only sent the girls over there when she had deliveries or other appointments.

Their teacher, Mrs. Black, had readily agreed. “They’ll be just fine, Arabella. The girls love playing with the other kids who stay late. Don’t worry. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Arabella didn’t see how that would be possible. This was one of those day where she wished she could just run away and start fresh. But she busied herself with cooking, something that always soothed her when she was worried about things.

Her cell rang, showing Brooke’s number. “So … what’s up with you and that handsome doctor?”

“He’s new in town,” Arabella told her cousin. “And … he’s Jasmine’s uncle. His name is Jonathan, and he told me her daddy died a short time ago.”

“Oh, that’s horrible. How’s she doing?”

“Not so great. I just told her this morning. Jonathan’s coming over for lunch so he can talk to her.”

“Give Jasmine a hug for me,” Brooke said. “Listen, I heard from Vivienne.”

Arabella braced herself. Had her cousin decided against coming home for the requisite year? “What did she say?”

“She’s visiting friends in Denver right now, but … she lost her job. She said since she’s got nothing to go back to in New York, she’ll be home soon. She’s willing to try the year thing.”

Arabella thought how hard her vivacious cousin had worked to become a successful chef in New York. Vivienne hadn’t been thrilled at the stipulation of having to return to Clayton for a year to receive her inheritance. But now she’d need that money. “Viv is being brave about this. I hope she won’t regret it.”

“I told her I sure am glad I came home, in spite of everything.”

“Me, too,” Arabella replied. “Thanks for the update. Now we need to pray Zach hears from Lucas.”

“I’m on it,” Brooke said before hanging up.

Arabella went back to her cooking, her prayers scattered from her cousin Lucas missing somewhere in Florida to Vivienne at loose ends in Denver and everyone in between. Especially Jasmine … and her uncle.

Jonathan walked up onto the inviting porch of what everyone called Clayton House. The big old Victorian looked pretty from a distance, but up close he could see the signs of wear and tear. The yellow paint was chipped and peeling in places and some of the big white shutters drooped with a heavy-lidded sway. This painted lady had seen better days. The house had to be over a hundred or so years old, so Jonathan took it in with a forgiving eye.

Maybe Arabella Michaels would be the same. Pretty from afar but worn a bit when he got up close. He almost wished that were true. Except last night she’d looked pretty good for a woman who’d come to confront him. He didn’t need the distraction of a pretty woman right now. He had to talk to Jasmine, tell her he wanted to give her a chance for a new life and then get back to his old life. If he kept taking time off from the hospital, he could be out on his own, searching for a new place to work.

The front door creaked open with a groaning cackle. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t hide in the bushes anymore.”

Jonathan gave Arabella a twisted smile. “I’m not hiding in the bushes. I’m right here in plain sight.”

“Then why didn’t you knock on the door? You’ve been standing there for at least five minutes.”

He took in her careless chignon and the soft green sweater she wore over old jeans. And she had on yet another pair of cowboy boots—these a rich, burnished brown that matched her upswept hair. Unlike the house, she did not look worn and frayed around the edges. She looked great. All natural and all attitude.

“I … uh … this is hard,” he said, his tongue tripping over his teeth. “I brought Jasmine a few things.” He shoved the gift bag and a small bouquet of flowers toward Arabella. “The flowers are for you. And … some stuffed animals for your girls.”

Arabella took the flowers and looked down at the big floral bag then back up at him, surprise and sweetness in her eyes. “I see you’ve been to the Flowers and Fancy Finds gift shop.”

“Dorothy recommended it. And asked me several pointed questions about why I wanted to buy frilly gifts.”

“I’ll reckon she did,” Arabella said, standing back. “C’mon on in. I might as well let you know—I told Jasmine everything and now she’s locked in her room. Cade’s supposed to come over in a little while.”

Jonathan’s heart knocked against his chest. “I didn’t want it to be this way.”

“She’s upset about her daddy. In spite of Aaron Turner’s nasty ways, I guess the girl still loved him.”

“He wasn’t always bad,” Jonathan said, following her into what looked like a parlor. He saw antique sideboards and cherrywood tables mixed with a modern brown leather couch and high-back chairs strewn with colorful pillows. In one corner, a massive wicker basket filled with children’s books and toys seemed to fit right in. Family pictures lined the bookshelves. “Maybe if I talk to her …”

Arabella pointed to a floral chair by the fireplace. “Have a seat. I’ll bring in coffee. I made vegetable soup and bread. And I have pie.”

“But—”

She whirled to stare at him, the big bag clutched in one and the flowers in the other. “I’m going up to tell her you’re here. Maybe she’ll come down.” Laying the bag on a side table, she said, “And if she doesn’t, well, you and I still need to have a long talk. So make yourself comfortable. This might take a while.”

Jonathan sat down, nonplussed by her bossy attitude. He was used to bossing people around, but it sure wasn’t as much fun to have the tables turned. He decided this trip wasn’t going to be as short and sweet as he’d imagined.

Things were getting more and more complicated by the minute. And from the frown on Arabella Michaels’s heart-shaped face, he had a feeling this was just the beginning.

Arabella found a crystal vase for the flowers. The fall arrangement contained vines and briar roses mixed in with fat burgundy mums and variegated sunflowers in amber and orange. It wasn’t very big and it wasn’t formal, but the cluster of flowers made a statement.

Was the man sitting in her parlor trying to make a statement, too?

She fussed with the arrangement and then put it in the middle of the long oak dining table. Jonathan’s act of kindness had touched her. But then she figured he was making nice before he met Jasmine and plied her with big-city dreams. And why would a busy single doctor want to deal with a teenager anyway?

Maybe because that teenager was his only family?

Arabella could certainly understand that concept.

She heard footsteps and saw Jasmine moving down the stairs, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair falling in gentle brown ribbons around her face. Before Arabella could say anything the girl marched across the entry hall and into the parlor, stopping inside the arched doorway.

Arabella hurried after her but stopped in the dining area behind Jasmine.

“So you’re my uncle?” Jasmine said it in the form of an accusation, the words sharp like arrows, her voice hoarse and raspy but determined.

Jonathan stood up, his hands going into the pockets of his jeans. “Uh … yes. I’m Jonathan. I’m sorry we had to meet this way.” His expression was filled with a cautious joy, but his eyes held a definite sorrow.

Jasmine didn’t say anything for a split second. Then she crossed her arms at her midsection and said, “And so, my daddy’s dead?”

Jonathan shot Arabella a helpless look and then focused on Jasmine. “Yes, he is. I’m sure you knew he was an alcoholic—”

“Yeah, I did know that. How did he die?”

Another pleading look. “He left a bar late at night and … apparently lost control of his truck on a curve.” He started to say more but held back. Finally, he said, “He died on impact.”

Jasmine raised a hand to her mouth then put her head down. “He wasn’t always so mean. He just couldn’t beat the liquor.”

“I know,” Jonathan said, his eyes burning with what looked like unshed tears. “I understand and I’m so sorry. He wasn’t always like that when we were growing up, either.”

Jasmine’s head came up. “What made him get that way?”

“It was probably the disease.” Jonathan stepped closer. “He followed our father’s example, I think maybe to have something in common with our old man. They used to drink together a lot once my brother got older.”

Jasmine swiped at her eyes. “But you turned out different? How’d that happen?”

He shrugged, his shoulders slumping, the weight of this discussion seeming to wear him down. “I tried to just survive. I … was younger. Aaron took the brunt of things. He wanted to protect me. I only wish I could have protected him.”

Jasmine whirled toward Arabella and rushed into her arms. Arabella grabbed hold and hugged Jasmine tight, warning Jonathan away when he moved toward the girl. “It’s all right. We’ve been through a lot together and we’ll figure this out. It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” She voiced that promise loud enough for the man standing there to hear it.

Jasmine sniffed and looked up at her. “I always thought he’d come back here one day. That he’d want to come back for me. Or maybe he’d show up at my wedding. Now I’ll never see him again.”

Arabella held her own tears inside. It wouldn’t do for her to fall apart, too. She had to be strong to keep Jasmine intact. “Maybe he was trying to get back. We can’t be sure. Maybe he went away to get better and … just didn’t have the strength to make it home.”

Jasmine turned then, her eyes scalding Jonathan. “Maybe if he’d had someone to help him—”

“I didn’t know where he was,” Jonathan said, but it sounded like a pitiful excuse and he seemed to realize that. He dropped his hands to his sides. “I wish things could have been better between us. I tried to stay in touch, but he never answered my calls or my letters. He resented me going away to college.”

Jasmine lifted her head an inch, her chin jutting out. “He used to pick on me about that. Said college was a big waste of time and money. Said I didn’t have enough sense for higher education. I’d do better to get a job right here in Clayton and learn my place in this world.” She held herself, her arms tight against her stomach. “I guess he was right.”

Arabella leveled her gaze on Jonathan. “He was wrong, Jasmine. You’re a very bright girl. If you want to go to college, we can make that happen.”

And she dared the good doctor to dispute that.

Then Arabella had a new thought. Denver had several very good colleges. Maybe the doctor could actually help make Jasmine’s dreams come true. And maybe it was time Arabella stopped wallowing in her own woes and, instead of resenting Jonathan Turner, found a way to help make that happen.