Redemption (44 page)

Like everything else about her life these days.

Gradually the contraction eased, and Kari leaned back against the seat, remembering all she’d survived these past months. The news articles detailing how Tim had been shot in front of his lover’s apartment, and the article a week later explaining that Dirk Bennett, the shooter, was being tried for first-degree murder. The funeral service where Pastor Mark talked about the beauty of redemption and how Tim and Kari had found peace before his death.

Everyone had been supportive. No one, not even Ashley, had mentioned that perhaps his death was for the best, that maybe Kari would be better off without a husband like Tim Jacobs.

Kari wasn’t stupid. She knew people had to be saying some of those things behind her back. There had been a time when she might have been tempted to say them herself. But not now. Not after the way they’d come together before his death.

They were within the city limits, and her dad was driving as fast as he safely could. Another wave of pain swept over her, and she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. “Dad . . .” The contraction took her breath away, and she rocked forward, trying to survive.

“Two minutes, baby, two minutes. Hang on. We’re almost there.”

Kari closed her eyes when the pain eased, praying for strength. She knew God would see her through the physical act of labor. It was everything that came afterward that worried her.

Being a single mother . . . explaining to her child what had happened to Tim. Kari had no idea how she’d do any of that.

Oh, Father . . . it’s so hard.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she began to cry, deep inner sobs that came from a place that was still raw, still grieving the fact that Tim had died, still hurting over the memory of his last words to her and the sad irony that she had lost him just when they were finding each other again.

Her father hit the brakes. “We’re here.”

Kari opened her eyes and saw a nurse with a wheelchair waiting outside the emergency-room door. “You phoned ahead?”

John Baxter was already out of the car opening Kari’s door. “Absolutely.” He smiled warmly at her as he reached down and helped her from the car to the wheelchair, wiping her tears with a brush of his thumb. “I don’t want my grandchild born in a hospital waiting room.”

The next fifteen minutes were a blur of preparations and contractions as the nurses set Kari up in a labor room and monitored the baby’s progress. After a few minutes the doctor appeared and did an exam. “I’d say it’ll be sometime in the next hour.” He patted Kari’s hand, and she could feel his sympathy like a warm blanket—both soothing and smothering. It seemed like everyone in Bloomington knew what had happened to Tim—how his poor, grieving widow had been six months pregnant and waiting stoically for her husband’s return when he was shot and killed in front of his girlfriend’s apartment. She appreciated the doctor’s concern as well as that of everyone else. But she hated how it made her the object of pity wherever she went. Especially here, giving birth to her first child only months after burying her husband.

Another contraction hit, and Kari thought she might pass out from the pain. The doctor gripped her hand as she rode it out. Then he angled his head, studying her tear-streaked face. “You okay?”

Kari nodded. “I’m ready to meet my baby.”

He grinned. “That’s a girl. Listen, you have some family out in the hall. Shall I let them in?”

“Sure.” She tried to smile.

When the door opened, Ashley and Cole filed in with her parents. They were followed by Brooke and Peter, both wearing their white coats and ear-to-ear grins. Behind them was Erin with word that Sam would be by later, and at the end of the line was Luke with an entire bouquet of white roses. They gathered around her bed, laying their hands on her knees and shoulders and smoothing stray pieces of hair off her sweaty face.

The pains were coming faster, harder, and under normal circumstances Kari knew she would not have wanted company. But these were the people she loved, her family—the ones who had stood by her all her life, whether they agreed with her or not. As long as they were willing to be there, she would not consider asking them to leave. Besides, they wouldn’t stay long. They had planned that only her mother would stay with her through the delivery.

The group was quiet, all eyes on Kari, when her dad cleared his throat and took her hand. “We didn’t want you to be alone in here.”

Kari swallowed and waited until she could speak. “Thanks.”

“They came as soon as I called.” John glanced at the faces. His chin quivered as he looked back at Kari. “No matter how long it takes, we’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”

She nodded, unable to do anything but groan as another wave of pain crashed over her. When it passed she met the eyes of each of her family members, her breathing labored, sweat beading on her forehead. “I love you guys.”

There were smiles and whispers of “We love you too” all around her, and again her father took control. “We need to go. Let’s pray for Kari and the baby.”

Everyone nodded and no one, not even Ashley or Brooke or Peter, showed any signs of hesitation. One by one they joined hands until the only broken link was between Luke and Ashley, who happened to be standing next to each other. Finally Luke smiled at his middle sister and reached out his hand. And with that the circle was complete. Tears shone in every eye, and Kari felt her heart lift at the love she felt amidst her family.

Her father looked at each of them, one at a time, then bowed his head. “Lord, you are gracious and merciful in all things, even this, the pain of new life. Father, we ask you to let the baby come quickly and without stress or trouble of any kind, and we pray that you keep both Kari and her child safe in the process.” His voice cracked, and Kari felt the familiar wetness fall upon her face. She knew her father must have been deeply touched by the way they’d all come together here. Especially Luke and Ashley. “I’ve prayed it a million times before, Lord, but let me say it again. Thank you for my family. Other than you, Father, they’re the most important part of my life.”

Almost as soon as the prayer ended, Kari jerked into another contraction, and this time her dad motioned for the nurse to join them. The woman entered the already crowded room and checked the readouts from the monitor. “Okay, Kari, I think it’s time.”

The others filed out of the room—all except her mother, who held her hand and walked beside her as she was moved into the delivery room. Kari was grateful they had planned it this way.

The final phase of labor seemed much shorter than the first, and within thirty minutes the doctor was urging her to push one last time. As she did, Kari felt a great sense of relief. Seconds later the room was filled with the bleating sound of a beautiful, newborn cry.

“Congratulations, Kari.” The doctor held up the squirming baby, and Kari could hardly believe it was really happening. “It’s a girl.”

A cry escaped from Kari’s throat. She fell back exhausted, overwhelmed, elated. Her mother was at her side, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead. “Oh, sweetheart, she’s beautiful.”

“I knew she was a girl. God told me months ago.” Kari smiled and noticed that she was no longer crying. Instead, an unspeakable joy coursed through her heart and soul, a joy of relief and awe and amazement at the miracle of life.

“There’s something very special about a daughter.” Her mother brought her face up against Kari’s. “I remember exactly what you’re feeling now.” She paused, and her happy tears felt damp against Kari’s cheek. “Now you know why I love you so much.”

“Her name’s Jessie Renée.”

“That’s beautiful, Kari. Your great-grandmother would have loved her.”

A delivery-room nurse appeared at her bedside with the infant clean and wrapped in a blanket. “Thought you might like to meet your daughter.”

Gently, as if the baby might be made of glass, Kari took her and held her close. “Oh, Mom . . . there’s nothing like it. I can’t believe how she feels in my arms.”

Kari stared at her tiny daughter, awed by her. She had been wrong the night of Tim’s death. The best part of life wasn’t over. Hope lived on—her baby girl was living proof.

God’s plans for her were not dead; they had merely been revised, made new.

As new as the precious life in her arms.

Strange sounds filled the morning air, but Kari couldn’t force her eyes open. What was it? Almost like someone was singing . . . no, humming . . . right here in her hospital room.

The tune was familiar, and though she was still half asleep, she finally recognized it.

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;

As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

The humming became clearer still, and Kari figured her father must be in the room. It was his favorite hymn, the one he always sang when God’s hand was so clearly at work among them. The humming continued into the chorus, and since Kari was almost fully awake, she joined in.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

She opened her eyes then, and her heart stopped. How did he . . . ? Who’d told him about . . . ? It wasn’t possible.

The man sitting in the chair beside her, rocking little Jessie as carefully as if she were his own, was not John Baxter.

It was Ryan Taylor.

Kari’s heartbeat returned, and she stared at him, unable to speak.

“She’s beautiful, Kari.” He smiled at the baby through wet eyes. “She looks just like you.”

Kari blinked so she could see through her own tears. “Ryan . . . I don’t . . . how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about Tim.” He gazed down at the infant and kissed her downy forehead. “I made her promise to tell me when the baby came, and I guess she talked to your dad. He called yesterday around noon, after Jessie was born.” He looked up and met her eyes. “I caught a flight a few hours later.”

She studied him, not sure she understood. “Why?”

He ran a big finger delicately along the baby’s brow and looked from Kari to little Jessie and back. “A long time ago you told me something I’ll never forget.”

“I did?” Kari’s heart was beating almost out of her chest, and she couldn’t keep up with the emotions that assaulted her.

Ryan nodded. “You told me love is a decision.” He paused and glanced at her tiny daughter. “I thought I loved you, Kari.” His eyes found hers again. “But it was a selfish love. Not the kind of love that honored you. Definitely not the kind of love you had for Tim.”

She watched his eyes fill up again, and hers did the same. Finally he swallowed and found his voice. “After you went back to Tim, I had a little chat with God and realized you were right. Love—real love—
is
a decision.” He nodded once. “So I decided then and there I was going to love you the way you wanted to be loved. And that meant letting you go.”

The baby stirred. Ryan adjusted his position and spoke in little more than a whisper. “It was a decision to—” His voice broke, and he hung his head for a minute as a single tear fell onto Jessie’s cheek. Ryan sucked in a quick breath and wiped the wet spot with his thumb. Then he looked up at Kari. “A decision to love you in a way that nearly killed me.”

There it was.

His real feelings were out in the open, and she could think of nothing to say. The loss of Tim was still too raw, too recent, for Kari to even begin reading her heart on all she felt now in Ryan’s presence.

Ryan’s face grew more serious, and he blinked back another tear. “I’m sorry about Tim. That’s not how . . .” He inhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling for a moment before returning his attention to Kari. “I’m sorry.”

The tears flowed freely down Kari’s cheeks now, and she nodded. “Me too. We were . . . we were moving in the right direction.”

They were quiet awhile. Eventually Ryan looked down at the baby and allowed himself a crooked smile. “She’s perfect. A complete miracle.”

Kari waited a minute, her eyes fixed on her little girl’s dainty features. “So . . . you’re in New York?”

“Yes.” He cocked his head, studying her. “Coaching the Giants.”

She nodded. “That’s what I heard.” Her mind searched for something neutral to say. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good.” He smiled sadly. “I miss home, but you know I’ve always wanted to coach at that level.”

She sank back against her pillow and soaked in the sight of him—strong and handsome and familiar, cradling her newborn with awkward tenderness. Her heart refused to do any more than that; the possibilities on either side of her private path of pain were more than she could consider. It was too soon or maybe too late ever to go back. Either way, this was neither the time nor place to consider what might lie ahead.

Besides, Ryan’s life was in New York now, and hers was here with her family.