Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby: Mother's Day Miracle / Blessed Baby. Lois Richer
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the first guy she liked for her own best interests. Because I couldn’t be bothered hanging around that reservation. I had to be free to find my dreams.”
There was nothing she could say. Nothing that would obliterate the sorrow he carried inside. All she could do was help him understand that God still loved him, as He loved them all in spite of their shortcomings. She whispered a prayer for guidance, then concentrated on Wade’s next words.
“I should have checked him out more, come home more often, paid attention to her letters. When she finally got hold of me in California, her life was a mess. Her marriage was on the rocks and her husband was dumping her and the kids, just like good old Dad.” He shoved his head into his hands, his fingers tugging on the glossy strands of black.
“But did I get her out of there, even then? No! All I could see were my selfish plans going down the tubes, my life getting put on hold, my dreams unfulfilled.” He kept his head bowed, his face averted. “I hurried home to talk her into trying to make it work, just a little longer. Just until I got what I wanted. That way, I could avoid my responsibility to take care of my sister. It was the one thing my mother made me promise I’d do and I failed her. Again.”
Wade’s face was carved into hard lines when he finally shifted in his chair, his bitter gaze pinning Clarissa where she sat.
“Kendra died in that car accident because I sent her there. She didn’t want to go with Roy, he’d been drinking. But I persuaded her that she could make it work if she just persisted. It’s my fault those kids have no father or mother.” His eyes shone like polished iron, his mouth tight.
“So you tell me, Clarissa. Am I the kind of person you want to be married to, the kind of man you want making decisions about your future?”
He lunged to his feet, his eyes blazing. “Don’t bother to answer. I know you only wanted to help the kids. So do I. You probably think they’d be better off without me messing up time and time again. You probably wish I’d take off for good and leave them in your capable hands.”
His voice dropped to a whisper as he turned away.
“And I would. God knows I’d leave in a minute if I could. But I promised her I’d raise them. It’s the last promise I ever made to her and I can’t break it. I just can’t.”
Clarissa sat stunned and immobilized by the heartrending grief that shredded his voice. She wanted to reach out, to assure him that he was doing the right thing.
But was he? Were they?
She watched him walk around the lake, a lonely solitary figure lost in a brooding silence that clearly stated Keep out. When he disappeared into a stand of towering blue spruce, Clarissa let the tears roll down her cheeks.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, “what have I done? How can I help this hurting family?”
Though she sat there for an hour, the answer evaded her. Eventually she got up, picked up her and Wade’s empty mugs and returned to the cabin. She cleaned it, made some sandwiches for lunch and set a fresh jug of iced tea in the fridge. But Wade did not return.
As she lay at the side of the lake later that afternoon, Clarissa forced away the thought that Wade had run away, left her behind. Not this time, she told herself. He’s committed this time. And I intend to see that he doesn’t feel chained down. I’ll go on with my life as usual and he’ll realize that I’ve accepted him for exactly who and what he is. He won’t have to fulfill my expectations because I won’t have any.
She pulled off her cover-up and stretched out on the towel, allowing the hot sun to touch her sun-screened skin.
“’They that wait upon the Lord,’” she reminded herself. “Your timing is best.”
“You’re going to burn if you stay out here much longer.” Wade’s soft voice broke through her dream, the words tentative. “Maybe you should cover up?”
“I think I’ll try the water first.” Clarissa sat up, surprised to see him clad in his swimsuit, a towel looped over one arm. “Are you going in?”
He nodded. “I love swimming. The colder the better. We used to have an old swimming hole….” His voice trailed away. “Never mind.”
Clarissa let it go. “Well, I’ll try,” she mumbled doubtfully, accepting his outstretched hand as she got to her feet. “But if it’s cold, I’m outta here.”
He tilted up one arrogant eyebrow. “I never thought I’d see the day when Clarissa Cartwright would back down from a challenge,” he teased.
“Featherhawk,” she reminded him. “And I’m not backing down. I’ll go in. And then I’ll get out.”
He rolled his eyes when she tentatively toe-touched the clear water lapping against the white of the beach. “Uh-huh. Chicken. That’s what I said.”
Clarissa could feel the tension in him, knew he was trying to lighten things between them. Very well. She would help him. She untied her beach jacket and tossed it to the sand, then dashed into the water.
“Last one in is the biggest chicken,” she bellowed, then gurgled as she stepped off a ledge and the icy water closed around her sun-heated body and filled her gasping mouth. “Oh!”
“You live on the edge, don’t you?” Wade’s big hand wrapped itself around her arm and tugged her toward shore. “You don’t have to prove to me that you’re brave, Clarissa. I’m the guy you married, the fellow whose four crazy kids you took on. Remember?”
“I remember.” She hugged herself tightly, arms wrapped around her middle to conserve what little warmth still pulsed through her body. “Since you already know how brave I am and that I’m not a chicken, c-c-can I get out n-now?”
Wade threw back his head as he roared with amusement at her chattering teeth and shaking lips. Gently he led her out of the water, wrapped her beach coat around her and wrapped his own towel around her dripping head.
“You don’t back down, do you, lady?” he said, admiration lacing his voice.
Clarissa gathered her stuff into her bag and headed toward the cabin, fully aware that Wade was right beside her. “Feel the fear and do it anyway,” she mumbled. “That’s my motto.”
They walked toward the cabin and up the steps. At the top, Wade reached out a hand and stopped her. His eyes held a quizzical look that she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Sometimes fear is a good thing, Clarissa. It makes us stay away from situations where we can get badly hurt.” His dark eyes bored into hers.
She held his gaze. “And sometimes hurt teaches us things we wouldn’t have learned if we hadn’t stepped out in faith, believing that God is always in control. ‘If God is for us, who can be against us?’” she quoted softly.
His hand dropped away, his face a study in conflicting emotions.
“I’m going to change,” she told him finally.
He nodded, wet hair drooping into his eyes. He slicked it back, his eyes on her. “In that bag of tricks, have you hidden the ability to cut hair?”
She winked. “I can cut it.” She shrugged. “It might end up a little shorter than you like, but I can cut it.”
He nodded. “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Trying.” He opened the door. “After you, Mrs. Featherhawk.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, Mr. Featherhawk.”
As beginnings went, it was a start. A good start.
Chapter Six
As honeymoons went, Clarissa didn’t think it ranked among the most romantic, but she’d enjoyed it more than she’d believed possible three days ago. They spent their time hiking around the lake, sunbathing, dipping their toes in the frigid water and talking.
She