Loving Tenderness (7 page)

She’d done as she’d feared. The words caught in her throat. “It’s the way I was brought up.” She hoped the explanation would suffice.

He stopped and motioned toward a bench beneath the trees with a view of the lake. “I’ve often wondered about your family. You don’t talk about them.”

Bile rose in her throat again, and she wished she’d just agreed she was shy. “They’re long gone. I don’t hear from my sister. We all scattered across the country years ago.”

“That’s too bad.”

It wasn’t bad at all in Hannah’s mind. She had felt relief being free from their troubled lives. When she looked into Andrew’s eyes, she felt a nudge to be honest. If her background was going to chase him away, then she’d better reveal it now before she had too much at stake in their friendship.

Hannah drew in a lengthy breath. “My folks were
poor, Andrew. My dad drank himself to death, and my mom wasn’t a strong woman, though she was a Christian and tried to protect us. She died ten years ago. My brother Bill died in a drunk-driving accident. He ran into a tree. My sister ran off with her boyfriend. Last I heard she’d married someone else. That’s about it.” The words came out in a rush, and her lungs felt depleted.

“I didn’t realize,” he said, looking at her with tenderness and not the scorn that she’d expected.

She calmed her thoughts. She’d told him the truth and now he knew. “But I refuse to let that affect me. I found a job to support myself and I got away from home. I wanted control of my life. That’s still my goal. I want to be the best mom I can be. JJ is my joy, and I’ll fight anything or anyone who tries to harm him.”

“You’re a great mother, Hannah. Sometimes troubles make us stronger. We put things in perspective and find priorities,” Andrew said.

“JJ’s my priority.”

Something behind his look sent her an uncomfortable feeling.

Andrew rose and reached for her hand. She offered it to him and felt the strength of his larger palm against hers as they headed back the way they had come. Quiet settled around him except for the birdcalls echoing through the trees and the waves surging to shore.

“Why did you marry Jack?”

The question flew out of the silence, and Hannah let her hand slip from Andrew’s. Jack had been one of her bad decisions, a failing that she longed to forget. “I was foolish. There’s no other reason.”

“Was he abusive from the start?”

“Not really. Rougher than some, I suppose, but it
seemed more playful. I knew he drank, but I didn’t know it was a problem. It seemed right at the time. I’d gotten laid off from my job. I felt purposeless and alone. Jack walked into my life with lots of promises and seemed the answer to my prayers. Obviously I was wrong.”

Andrew didn’t respond, and as she studied his face, Hannah felt on edge at the look in his eyes.

A
ndrew’s gut tightened when Hannah gave him a puzzled look. Now would be the perfect time to tell her about his past, but something kept him from revealing it. She’d never asked about his past so Andrew assumed she still hadn’t heard the rumors. He sensed she respected him as a man with a future. Why would he want to chase her away by revealing his own bad decisions?

The situation struck him. Hannah had become more than a casual friend to him. His brain told him she was a woman who needed someone, but his heart made him face the fact that he longed for her as a special woman in his life, and if anything were to come of their relationship, he would have to admit his failures.

But Andrew closed his mouth and stifled his admission. He looked into Hannah’s concerned eyes. “I’d never think less of you. Trust me. The Bible says we shouldn’t judge unless we want to be judged. I understand that at times we all make decisions we feel are justified. Sometimes we’re wrong.”

Hannah blinked as if his comment surprised her.

Before he opened his mouth to explain, his cell phone chimed, and remembering Philip’s earlier call, he grabbed the phone from his pocket.

Philip’s voice came through the line. “It’s Jemma. She’s in hard labor. Can you take care of Ellie until Claire can close the store and get over here? I hate to ruin the picnic.”

“The picnic? What’s more important than you and Jemma? I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Is it Jemma?” Hannah asked, her eyes inquiring as she kept pace with his brisk strides.

“He asked me to watch Ellie. They need to leave for the hospital. Do you mind catching a ride home with Jenni?”

“I’d like to go with you if you don’t mind.”

Her response surprised him. “Not at all, but what about JJ?”

“He’ll come along.” She sounded breathless. “Maybe I can help with Ellie.”

He didn’t argue and liked the idea of having her company. The excitement of the new baby kicked in, and he kept his strides fast and steady until they returned to the picnickers.

Hannah hurried away to find JJ while Andrew packed up the chairs and the items Hannah had brought. Soon Hannah returned with a pouting son, and Andrew couldn’t blame the boy. JJ didn’t want to miss the fun.

“Are you sure?” he asked Hannah, tilting his head toward JJ.

She nodded. “I’m sure. He’ll be fine when he meets Ellie.”

Andrew didn’t ask again. He hurried them back to the car with the picnic gear and headed for Philip’s. When
Andrew pulled in front of his brother’s house, the door flew open, and Philip darted outside with a small suitcase. “We’ve waited too long,” he called in passing.

Philip’s words fell like a weight in Andrew’s gut, and he eyed Jemma who stood in the doorway, kissing Ellie goodbye. He could see the pain on her face and the stress in her posture.

Though Ellie whined at her mother’s leaving, she changed her attitude when Andrew called hello.

“Unkie And’woo.” She opened her arms, beaming a sweet smile and ran toward him as his chest knotted.

“We’ll be fine,” he said to Jemma who hadn’t moved from the porch. “This is Hannah Currey and JJ. They’ve come to help.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jemma said, trying to look pleasant when she was obviously in distress.

“You’d better be on your way,” Hannah said, waving them off. “We can visit some other time.”

Jemma gave her a weak smile and hugged Andrew. “Thanks. Claire should be here in an hour or so.”

Philip helped her down the porch steps, his look tense, and hovered over her as Jemma slid into the sedan.

Andrew cuddled Ellie in his arms, wrapped in her unconditional love, so unlike much of his life. When Philip’s car had disappeared down the highway, Andrew pushed open the door and beckoned Hannah to enter.

JJ gave a curious look at Ellie. “Can she talk?”

Andrew chuckled. “She talks up a storm, JJ, and she has some pretty nice toys, too.”

Hannah shooed him inside and followed.

“Girl toys?” JJ asked charging ahead.

Andrew shut the door and strode into the living. “Not all girl toys. She has blocks and books.”

“Blocks,” Ellie said, squirming to get down. “Let’s play.” She charged across the room and opened a wooden bench beneath the window. A large bag of building blocks tumbled to the floor.

JJ only took a minute to dart across the room and collapse into the midst of them.

“Have a seat,” Andrew said to Hannah while she stood back near the archway.

Her eyes shifted as she took in the room, then she ambled in and sat on the sofa. “They have a pretty house,” she said, running her hand across the upholstery. “This is expensive.”

Andrew shrugged. “It’s Jemma’s taste, I think. She likes the antiques and sturdy pieces of furniture. When Philip lived at the resort, he had contemporary. Nice, but nothing this fancy.” He gestured toward the grandfather clock and the seating arrangement around the fireplace.

“How you doing?” Andrew asked, wandering toward the children. He knelt beside Ellie and brushed hair from her eyes. “Do you know where your mommy went?”

“To bwing a new baby home.”

“Right. Did you put in an order? What do you want—a brother or sister?”

She gave the question a lengthy thought as she stacked one block on another before she answered. Finally she giggled. “Just a baby.”

“I’m sure you’ll get that, my little sugar cake.” He patted her cheek.

JJ handed him a block. “Build a fort.”

“A fort?” Andrew gave Hannah a silly grin and settled onto the floor, his legs crossed Indian-style.

Hannah watched from across the room, her heart tugging at the sight of Andrew with the children. She
had volunteered to come to the house, thinking Andrew might not be comfortable caring for the little girl, but she’d been very wrong. Ellie had run to him as if he were the ice cream man, her arms open and a huge smile on her face. He’d lifted her into his arms with so much love and ease, Hannah knew it hadn’t been the first time.

Andrew lined up the blocks, responding to JJ’s constant chatter, and Hannah relished the sight of her son with a man who gave him attention. She’d tried to compensate for Jack’s disinterest, but nothing could provide a father’s love like a father. She realized Andrew wasn’t her son’s father and never would be, but his manly interest gave JJ something he’d never known before.

Her gaze drifted back to the elegant living room. The blocks and toy bench seemed so incongruous in the lovely surroundings. Jemma had created the perfect conversational setting around the fireplace. Closer to the living-room entrance, the sofa and a chair formed a reading area. Hannah noticed the pile of magazines beneath the table and, on it, a novel with a bookmark placed between the pages.

She glanced again at the children and Andrew, deep in concentration while building the fort. Even Ellie handed him blocks without toppling the creation.

Hannah looked below the table at the magazines and pulled one out.
Architectural Digest.
She flipped through the pages, viewing the elegant homes and furnishing ads. She’d grown up in a house with threadbare upholstery and nicked pine furniture. The pictures on the wall were jigsaw puzzles her mother had placed on adhesive paper and framed. They’d brightened the room, but when the light hit them just so, she could see the grooves and shapes of the pieces.

Hannah’s life had been like those puzzle pieces—a blur of colors and patterns that never revealed a clear picture. The picture had become clearer when JJ was born, and at that moment she’d known smoothing the ruts from their lives was her goal. When she’d finally loosened herself from Jack, she’d felt free, but then he’d returned with a vengeance.

She had to keep JJ safe. What could she do to protect him when Jack got out of jail? She had to make changes. She wanted Jack out of her life forever.

Hannah dropped the magazine in her lap, feeling a sudden sense of grief. She had to remain strong. She had to find courage to keep Jack out of her life. She’d met nice people today. They’d treated her as an equal. And she was, Hannah reminded herself. She was a child of God. Even in the midst of their chaotic life, her mother had taught her that. She could still picture Jesus’s outstretched arms, inviting her into his embrace. Why did she fight the invitation?

She glanced at her watch. She and Andrew had arrived nearly an hour ago, and now her thoughts turned to Jemma and her labor. Hannah recalled her own labor, which had taken place while Jack sat in a bar. She’d been unable to find him, and a neighbor had taken her to the hospital. Eventually Jack had shown up, his chest bursting with pride that she’d given him a son. He’d insisted he be named after him—Jack Darren Currey, Junior. That was the last day Jack seemed to care about JJ.

Hannah caught herself and stopped her negative thoughts. Andrew had become a special friend. She liked him, and he knew about her past and said he didn’t care. She had to learn to trust.

“Anyone hungry?” Andrew asked from across the room.

Though four hours had passed since they’d eaten, Hannah hadn’t felt the twinges of hunger. She’d only felt the ever-present gnawing sensation from earlier that day when she’d tried to eat a hot dog at the picnic.

At Andrew’s question, Ellie jumped up and clapped her hands while JJ’s face brightened at the mention of food. Andrew beckoned to her and slipped through the archway with the two children on his heels.

Hannah took the hint he wanted her help and entered the kitchen. She faltered in the doorway, seeing the expanse of cabinets in rich oak and the striking rust-colored counter tops. Andrew stood beside the center island, reading a note.

“Ready to eat?” His eyes met hers, then waved the scrawled message in her direction. “Jemma says there’s plenty in the fridge that she planned for the picnic.”

When she opened the refrigerator, Hannah found salads, sliced ham and a scrumptious-looking bakery cake. Andrew joined her, setting the table while she pulled out the food, but as they sat down for supper, the telephone rang, followed by the doorbell.

As Andrew headed for the phone, Hannah hurried to the entrance. As she suspected, Claire stood on the porch, and Hannah grinned at Claire’s look of surprise. “I was with Andrew at the picnic when Philip called,” she said, explaining before Claire asked.

“Thanks for coming with him,” Claire said, sweeping into the room.

“Nana,” Ellie cried when Claire stepped into the kitchen.

But when she looked at Andrew’s face, Hannah’s heart squeezed with concern.

“Claire’s here now,” Andrew said. “I’m coming up, Philip.”

“What is it?” Claire asked as soon as he hung up the receiver.

“Complications. Umbilical cord prolapse, and they’re doing a cesarean section.”

“No,” Hannah moaned, filled with dread. “The baby’s been cut off from its oxygen supply.”

“If the physician works fast, Philip said, everything will be fine.”

Hannah drew in a ragged breath. “But an emergency cesarean isn’t good.”

Claire gave a knowing nod as if she understood. “She’s right, Andrew. You go to your brother, and I’ll take over here.”

“No, please,” Hannah said, “let me stay with the children. Claire, you should go, too.”

Claire held up her hand. “I can be helpful with all kinds of problems, but not this one. I’d feel more useful staying here. Hannah, you go with him.”

“No. This is a family matter. I can call a cab. You go ahead, Andrew. Please.”

Andrew shook his head as he headed for the door. “The hospital isn’t that far from your house. I’ll drop you off.”

“And you’ll let me know how—”

He touched her cheek, stopping her words. “You know I’ll keep you posted.”

Andrew eyed the waiting-room wall clock, then checked his watch. Time seemed to stand still. Philip
had paced the floor from the moment Andrew had arrived, and no matter what he said Philip wouldn’t sit.

“You’re wearing out the carpet,” Andrew said. “Let me get you some coffee.”

Philip only shook his head. “What’s taking so long?”

He strode across the room to the desk, and Andrew’s heart broke watching his brother’s anguish.

Marriage and family had begun to settle in Andrew’s thoughts. He’d always told himself that he had nothing to offer a woman, but Hannah seemed different. She had none of the expectations most people had of the Somervilles. She’d come from a family with so little, yet she’d done her best and made a life of nothing. Why couldn’t he do the same?

Hannah always made Andrew smile. He knew why she’d offered to come to Philip’s: she’d figured he’d be useless babysitting his niece, but he’d fooled her. He’d seen the surprise on her face when Ellie had bounded into his arms. He didn’t want to be cocky, but he’d proved to himself that the past hadn’t totally destroyed the love of family. Envy had wheedled its way into his thoughts, but hadn’t destroyed the love he still felt for Philip. He’d just had a difficult time showing it.

JJ had been an eye-opener, too. Sure, he figured loving his niece was natural, but loving a child who was no relation, that was another story. But that’s what had happened. He found himself doting on the young boy.

Andrew shifted his gaze and noticed a surgeon in the hallway outside the waiting room. Philip seemed to notice at the same time. He darted across the room and met the man before he came through the doorway.

Nailed to his seat, Andrew watched the drama unfold
and finally could no longer contain himself, but rose and joined the two men.

“She’s not out of the woods,” the physician said.

Fear surged through Andrew. The baby or Jemma? He clamped his mouth closed rather than interrupt their conversation.

“We’re doing all we can, but it will be twenty-four hours or more before we can be certain.”

“The baby?” Andrew whispered, giving in to his uncontrollable worry.

Philip’s head gave a slow shake. “It’s Jemma.” His voice trembled, and tears sprang to his eyes.

Jemma? Dear Lord, no.
Andrew’s prayer flew to heaven.

“Your son is in good health,” the physician continued. “You can see him in a few minutes. I’ll have a nurse let you know.” He took a step backward. “I’m sorry, Mr. Somerville. I wish I had better news.”