Читать книгу Heart of the Family - Margaret Daley - Страница 7

Hannah stood in the entrance into the living room and observed the children interacting with Jacob. She hadn’t intended to stay and watch them play, but for some reason she couldn’t walk away. Jacob had a way with the kids, as if he knew exactly where they were coming from and could relate to them on a level she didn’t know she would ever reach.

The bottom line: he was good with them. Very good.

When the trip to the zoo had come up at dinner, she hadn’t wanted Jacob to come. Now though, she saw the value in him being a part of the outing.

A fact: if she stayed, Jacob would be in her life whether she wanted him to or not. She was a realist, if nothing else, and she would come to terms with her feelings concerning him for the children’s sake.

Andy yawned and tried to cover it up with his palm over his mouth. When he dropped his hand away, however, his face radiated with a smile as Jacob directed a comment to him.

“Gotcha! Sorry but you’ve got to go back to the start, buddy.” Jacob triumphantly removed Andy’s peg from its slot and put it at the beginning.

Gabe took his turn and brought one of his pieces home. He pumped the air and shouted his glee. “I’ve only got one more out. I’m gonna win!”

Hannah needed to check to see if the others were doing their homework. But she found she couldn’t leave. There was something about Jacob that kept her watching—after years of hating the man for what he’d done to her family.

At Gabe’s next turn he jumped up and pranced about in a victory dance as if he’d crossed the goal line. “I finally won!”

Andy tried to grin but couldn’t manage it. Instead he blinked his eyes open wide and yawned again—and again.

Hannah entered the room. “Gabe, please put the game up. It’s time for bed.”

“But we haven’t played enough.” Gabe stopped, a pout pushing his lips out.

Jacob began removing the pegs from the board. “You’d better do as she says or I might not get to read you a story. If there’s not enough—”

Gabe leaped toward the table and scrambled to put up the game. Andy’s head nodded forward. Nancy stifled her own yawn.

Hannah made her way to Andy’s side and knelt next to him. “Time for bed.”

His head snapped up, his eyes round as saucers. “No. No, another game. I haven’t won yet.”

“Sorry. You’ll have to wait for another day.” Hannah straightened.

“Andy, I’ll make you a promise, and you know I don’t go back on them. The next time I’m here, we’ll play any game you want.” Jacob stood and moved to the boy, saying to Hannah, “Here, I’ll take him to his room,” then to Andy, “I think everything has finally caught up with you, buddy. You’ve been great! I can’t believe you went this long. Most kids would have been asleep hours ago after the day you had.”

As Jacob scooped up the eight-year-old into his arms and headed to the boys’ side of the house, Andy beamed up at him, then rested his head on Jacob’s shoulder.

After hurriedly putting the game away, Gabe raced to catch up with them. “We share a room.”

Nancy looked sleepily up at Hannah. “I want a story, too.”

“How about if I read one to you? You get ready for bed while I check on the others finishing their homework.”

Nancy plodded toward the girls’ side while Hannah went back into the dining room where Terry and Susie were the only ones still doing their work. “How’s it coming?”

Susie looked up, a seriousness in her green eyes. “We’re almost done.”

“Need any help?”

“Nope.” After scratching his fingers through his red hair, Terry erased an answer to a math problem on his paper. “Susie had this last year in school. She’s been helping me.”

Leaving the two oldest children, Hannah walked to Nancy’s room and found the little girl in her pajamas, stretched out asleep on her twin bed’s pink coverlet. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor beside her. Her roommate was tucked under her sheets, sleeping, too. Hannah gently pulled the comforter from under Nancy and covered her, then picked up the child’s clothes and placed them on a chair nearby.

With the youngest girls in bed, Hannah made her way to the boys’ side to see how Gabe and Andy were doing. The evening before, her first night in the cottage, both of them had been a handful to get to bed. Even with Andy half asleep, Jacob could be having trouble.

Sure, Hannah, she asked herself, is that the real reason you’re checking on them?

At the doorway she came to a halt, her mouth nearly dropping open at the scene before her. Andy was in bed, lying on his side, desperately trying to keep his eyes open as he listened to the story Jacob was reading. The doctor lounged back against Gabe’s headboard with the boy beside him, holding the book on his lap and flipping the pages when Jacob was ready to go on to the next one. Neither child was bouncing off the walls. Neither child was whining about going to bed. Jacob’s voice was calm and soothing, capable of lulling them to sleep with just the sound of it.

Cathy is right. Jacob would make a good father.

That thought sent a shock wave through her. She took a step back at the same time Jacob peered up at her, the warmth in his gaze holding her frozen in place. For several seconds she stared at him, then whirled and fled the room. She didn’t stop until she was out on the porch. The night air cooled her face, but it did nothing for the raging emotions churning her stomach.

How could she think something like that? For years she had hated Jacob Hartman. In her mind he wasn’t capable of anything good. Now in one day her feelings were shifting, changing into something she didn’t want. She felt as though she had betrayed her family, the memory of her brother.

Her legs trembling, she plopped down on the front steps and rubbed her hands over her face. Lord, I’m a fish out of water. I need the water. I need the familiar. Too much is changing. Too fast.

She leaned back, her elbows on the wooden planks of the porch, and stared up at the half-moon. Stars studded the blackness. No clouds hid the beauty of a clear night sky. The scent of rich earth laced the breeze. Everything exuded tranquility—except for her tightly coiled muscles and nerves shredded into hundreds of pieces.

She’d lived a good part of her life dealing with one change after another—one move after another, the accidental death of her husband after only one year of marriage. She had come to Cimarron City finally to put down roots and hopefully to have some permanence in her life. Instead I’m discovering more change, more disruption.

“Hannah, are you all right?”

She gasped and rotated toward Jacob who stood behind her. So lost in thought, she hadn’t even heard him come out onto the porch. She didn’t like what the man was doing to her. She wanted stability—finally.

“I’m fine,” she answered in a voice full of tension.

He folded his long length onto the step next to her. She scooted to the far side to give him room and her some space. His nearness threatened her composure. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his thighs and loosely clasped his hands together while he studied the same night sky as she had only a moment before. His nonchalant poise grated along her nerves, while inside she was wound so tightly she felt she’d break any second.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her lungs burned. She drew in deep gulps of air, suffused with the smells of fall, while grasping the post next to her, all the strain she was experiencing directed toward her fingers clutching the poor piece of wood.

He was no fool. He would want to know what was behind her cool reception of him. And she intended to keep her past private. After today she knew now more than ever the secret could harm innocent people—children. She couldn’t do that for a moment of revenge. Their shared past would remain a secret.

“Have we met before this morning?” he asked, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.

She sighed. This was a question she could answer without lying. “No.” She was relieved that her last name was no longer the same as her brother’s.

“I thought maybe we had, and I’d done something you didn’t like.”

“I’ve never met you before this morning.” Which was true. Kevin and Jacob hadn’t been friends long when the car wreck occurred. She felt as though she were running across a field strewn with land mines and any second she would step in the wrong spot.

“I get the feeling you don’t care for…my involvement in the refuge.”

Thank You, Lord. His choice of words made it possible for her not to reveal anything she didn’t want to. “I’ve seen how you interact with the kids this evening. They care very much for you. How could I not want that for them? They don’t have enough people in their lives who do.”

Jacob faced her. “Good. Because I intend to continue being involved with them, and I didn’t want there to be bad feelings between us. The children can sense that. Gabe already said something right before he went to sleep.”

“He did? What?”

Although light shone from the two front windows, shadows concealed his expression. “He wanted to know what we had fought about. He thought I might have gotten mad at you because Andy got hurt. I assured him that accidents happen, and I wasn’t upset with you.”

Hannah shoved to her feet. “I should go say something to him.”

“What?”

“Well…” She let her voice trail off into the silence while she frantically searched for something ambiguous. “I need to assure him, too, that we haven’t fought.”

“By the time I left him he was sound asleep. I’ve never seen a kid go to sleep so fast. I wish I had that ability.”

Had he ever lost sleep over what he did, as she had? “You have a lot of restless nights?” slipped out before she could censor her words.

He surged to his feet, and his face came into view. “I have my share.”

The expression in his eyes—intense, assessing—bored into her. She looked away. “It’s been a long second day. I need to make sure the rest of the children go to bed since they have school tomorrow. Good night.”

She’d reached the front door when she heard him say in a husky voice, “I look forward to getting to know you. Good night, Hannah.”

Inside she collapsed back against the wooden door, her body shaking from the promise in his words. Against everything she had felt over twenty-one years, there was a small part of her that wanted to get to know him. His natural ability to connect with these children was a gift. She could learn from him.

On the grounds at the Cimarron City Zoo Hannah spread the blanket out under the cool shade of an oak tree, its leaves still clinging to its branches. Not a cloud in the sky and the unusually hot autumn day made it necessary to seek shelter from the sun’s rays. She’d already noticed some red-tinged cheeks, in spite of using sunscreen on the children. Susie, the last one in Hannah’s group to get her food from the concession stand, plopped down on the girls’ blanket a few feet from Hannah’s.

Where were the boys and Jacob? She craned her neck to see over the ridge and glimpsed them trudging toward her. Jacob waved and smiled.

Terry hurried forward. “I got to see a baby giraffe! Giraffes are my favorite animal.”

“I’m not sure I can pick just one favorite.” Out of the corner of her eye she followed Jacob’s progress toward her. He spoke to the guys around him, and they all headed toward the concession stand. “You’d better go get what you want for lunch.” Hannah nodded toward the departing boys and Jacob.

Terry whirled around and raced after them. Ten minutes later everyone was settled on the blankets and stuffing hamburgers or hot dogs into their mouths.

Nibbling on a French fry, Hannah thought of the trip this morning to the zoo on the other side of Cimarron City with Jacob driving. Not too bad. She’d managed to get a lively discussion going about what animals they were looking forward to seeing.

Quite a few of the children had never been to a zoo and were so excited they had hardly been able to sit still in the minibus. Andy literally bounced around as though trying to break the restraints of the seat belt about him. Since his accident he had gone to school every day and the minute he returned to the cottage he would head to the barn to help with the animals. Last night he had declared to her at dinner that he wanted to be a vet and that he was going to help Peter and Roman with “his pets.”

“May I join you?”

Jacob’s question again took her by surprise. She swung her attention to him standing at her side. She glanced toward the other two blankets and saw they were filled with the children. “Sure.” She scooted to the far edge, giving the man as much room as possible on the suddenly small piece of material.

“How are things going so far?” Jacob sat, stretching one long leg out in front of him and tearing open his bag of food, then using his sack as a large platter.

“Good. The girls especially liked the penguins and the flamingos.”

“Want to guess where we stayed the longest?” Jacob unwrapped his burger and took a bite.

“The elephants?”

“Haven’t gone there yet.”

“We haven’t, either.”

“Why don’t we go together after lunch? They have a show at one.”

“Fine.” Her acceptance came easier to her lips than she expected. He’d been great on the ride to the zoo. He’d gotten the kids singing songs and playing games when the discussion about animals had died down. Before she had realized it, they had arrived, and she had been amazed that the thirty-minute trip she had dreaded had actually been quite fun. “So where did y’all stay the longest?”

“At the polar bear and alligator exhibits. Do you think that means something? The girls like birds and the boys like ferocious beasts?”

Her stomach flip-flopped at the wink he gave her. Shock jarred her. Where had that reaction come from? “I had a girl or two who liked the polar bears. One wanted a polar bear stuffed animal.”

“Let me guess. Susie?”

She shook her head. “Nancy.”

He chuckled. “I’m surprised. She’s always so meek and shy.”

“She’s starting to settle in better.” Nancy had only been at the refuge two weeks longer than Andy, and being the youngest at the age of five had made her adjustment to her new situation doubly hard on her.

“That’s good to hear,” he said in a low voice. “Her previous life had been much like Andy’s, except that her mother doesn’t want her back. I heard from Peter this morning that she left town.”

Hannah’s heart twisted into a knot. How could a mother abandon her child? Even with all that had happened in her life, she and her mother had stuck together. “I always have hope that the parents and children can get back together.”

Jacob’s jaw clamped into a hard line. He remained quiet and ate some of his hamburger. Waves of tension flowed off him and aroused her curiosity. Remembering back to her second night at the cottage, she thought about his comments concerning Andy and his mother fighting to get him back. What happened to Jacob to make him feel so fervent about that issue? Was it simply him being involved with the refuge or something more personal? And why do I care?

For some strange reason the silence between her and Jacob caused her to want to defend her position. She lowered her voice so the children around them wouldn’t overhear and said, “I was up a good part of the night with Nancy. I ended up in the living room, rocking her while she cried for her mother. It tore my heart to listen to her sorrow, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Yes, you did. You comforted her. Her mother wouldn’t have. She left her alone for days to fend for herself.”

“But her mother was who she wanted.”

“Because she didn’t know anyone else better.”

The fierce quiet of his words emphasized what wasn’t being spoken. That this conversation wasn’t just about Nancy. “But if we could work with parents, give them the necessary skills they need to cope, teach them to be better parents—”

“Some things can’t be taught to people who don’t want to learn.”

“Children like Nancy and Andy, who are so young and want their mothers…I think we have to try at least.”

“Andy wants to go home. He never said he wanted his mother. There’s a difference.”

Hannah clutched her drink, relishing the coldness of the liquid while inside she felt the fervor of her temper rising. “Maybe not in Andy’s mind. Just because he doesn’t say he wants his mother doesn’t mean he doesn’t. The biological bond is a strong one.”

“Hannah, can we play over there?” Susie pointed to a playground nearby with a place to climb on as though a large spider had spun a web of rope.

All the children had finished eating while she and Jacob had been arguing and hadn’t eaten a bite. A couple of the boys gathered the trash and took it to the garbage can while Terry and Nancy folded the blankets. “Sure. We’ll be done in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” Susie raced toward the play area with several of the girls hurrying after her.

When the kids had cleared out, Hannah turned back to Jacob to end their conversation, since she didn’t think they would ever see eye to eye on the subject, and found him staring at her. All words fled her mind.

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Do you think she heard?”

Granted their words had been heated, but Hannah had made sure to keep her voice down. “No, but I’m glad they’re playing over there.” She gestured toward the area where all the children were now climbing on the spiderweb, leaping from post to post or running around. “While in college I helped out at a place that worked to find foster homes for children in the neighborhood where their parents lived.”

“I’m sure that was a complete success.” Sarcasm dripped over every word.

“Actually they had some successes and some failures, but those successes were wonderful. They went beyond just placing the children near their parents. They counseled the parents and tried to get help for them. While I was there, several made it through drug rehab and were becoming involved in their child’s life again. The children still stayed in their foster home while the problems were dealt with, but the kids didn’t feel abandoned by their parents. That went a long way with building up their self-esteem.”

“What about the child’s safety and welfare when that parent backslides and starts taking drugs or abusing alcohol again?” Jacob pushed to his feet and hovered over her.

His towering presence sent her heart hammering. She rose. “You can’t dismiss the importance of family ties.”

He glared at her. “I’ve seen too many cases where family ties meant nothing.”

She swung her attention to the children playing five yards away, but she sensed his gaze on her, drilling into her. “Family is everything.”

“I’m not saying family isn’t important—when it is the right one. When it isn’t, it destroys and harms a child.”

She noticed Andy say something to a woman. “I can understand where you’re coming—”

“Don’t!”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob pick up the blanket they’d been on and begin folding it. When she looked back to the children, she counted each one to make sure everyone was there. Shoulders hunched, Andy, now alone, sat on a post and watched the others running around and climbing on the ropes.

Jacob came up to her side. “I was in foster care. I got over it and moved on.”

“So these children will, too?”

“With our help.”

Andy walked a few feet toward her and stopped. “Hannah, I’m going to the restroom.”

“Sure, it’s right inside the concession stand.” She started toward the boy.

Andy tensed. “I can go by myself. I’m eight!”

“I’ll just be out here on the porch waiting for you, then we’re going to the elephant exhibit.”

He grinned. “Great.”