When Jack walked into his house after working in the barn with the dogs, the first thing he saw was Arianna, stirring something in a pot on the stove. Her wild curls were back in a ponytail, at least mostly, and her cheeks were flushed. She was humming.
In the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, Sammy bounced contentedly in his jumper. The smell of meat loaf and onions and potatoes made Jack’s mouth water.
He stopped for a moment just to take it in, this unfamiliar, deep feeling: I’m home. This is home.
He must have made some noise, because she turned, and her wide smile made her even prettier. “Oh, hey, glad you’re home,” she said.
Did she hear how domestic that sounded? Could she be feeling anything similar to what he was feeling?
Probably not. It was probably just wishful thinking on his part.
After all, what did he know about having a loving family? His own mom had usually looked angry at this time of day, because someone was late or unappreciative or inappropriately dressed for dinner.
“I should go shower,” he said. Chloe would have already waved him upstairs, grimacing. Working with animals meant he picked up a little bit of their fur and smell even if he’d just been doing quick exams, as he had this afternoon.
Arianna lifted her hands, palms up. “Don’t worry about it. Just wash up in the kitchen sink—it’s your house.” She stepped closer. “And you don’t smell too terribly doggy,” she said with a grin.
She smelled good, like flowers.
Jack swallowed and took a step back and looked around the kitchen. Arianna had laid out plates and cutlery on the plank table in the kitchen. Sammy’s high chair was there, in between the two set places. Ketchup and salad dressing were set out in their original bottles, and the napkins were paper, although neatly folded.
He thought about his parents, their formal style of dining. Chloe had loved it, had loved going to their house and eating well-prepared food on their fine china.
Obviously, Arianna wasn’t much for formal dining. Or she wasn’t going to try to make it happen at the end of a workday with a hungry baby.
He liked that.
Confused by his feelings, he strode over to the doorway and knelt in front of Sammy. He was delighted when his son held out a hand to him, and he picked Sammy up and swung him high. Sammy didn’t chortle like a lot of babies would, but his expression changed, his mouth quirking up a little and then opening.
“He’s loving it!” Arianna stood, watching and smiling. “Look at that happy face.”
More emotions nudged at Jack’s heart, emotions that made him uncomfortable. Undeniably, he and Arianna were on the same wavelength. He drew in a breath and, after one more swing, took Sammy to his high chair.
“Thanks for staying for dinner,” he said. “I should have thought about the fact that you’re still commuting to your aunt and uncle’s place. I hope this won’t make your drive down the mountain too difficult.”
“It’s fine,” she said as she carried a big bowl of salad to the table. “Truthfully, I’m glad to have a nice meal in a clean place.”
Jack thought of her aunt and uncle’s home, how messy and disorganized it had been. “It must have been hard for you, living there.”
“Oh no, don’t get me wrong,” she said quickly. “My uncle and aunt have been fabulous to me. I’m so grateful that they let me stay with them this long. Could you grab the potatoes?” she added, nodding toward the steaming bowl. She tipped the meat loaf, draining the grease into an empty can, and then carefully put slices onto a plate. “There,” she said as she carried it to the table. “All of this can cool while you say a blessing.”
“Sure,” Jack said, even though he hadn’t prayed publicly in a long time. They each took one of Sammy’s hands, and then there was an awkward hesitation before he reached out and trapped her fingers in his. Long and slender, with calluses. Just as he’d imagined. He cleared his throat. “Father God, we thank You for this food and the chance to enjoy it together.” He was about to summon up more to say when Sammy let out a series of bleating sounds, his usual signal for hunger.
“In Christ’s name, amen,” Jack said quickly, and when he opened his eyes, Arianna was smiling.
“Short prayers are the best kind sometimes,” she said, and he laughed and nodded.
She insisted on serving, which gave him a few minutes to look around the kitchen. Of course, it was messy. This was Arianna, and she’d been taking care of Sammy as she cooked.
But he also noticed that she had put up the curtains he’d had sitting in their package for weeks and hung a small painting he didn’t remember seeing before on the wall above the table. “You did some decorating.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she handed him a steaming plate. “It just seemed like you needed little bit of...I don’t know...”
“A woman’s touch? Yes. We do.”
She was looking at him while he said that, and something flashed in her eyes. He would have given a lot to know what it meant.
But it wasn’t his business to go digging into her psyche. He needed to keep his distance. He busied himself with cutting Sammy some small pieces of meat and potatoes, and Sammy ate with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. “Wow, he seems to like it.”
“I was hoping he would. I noticed he’s a little picky about texture.”
“Soft, but not too soft,” he said. “This is perfect.”
“For him. Sorry I made you baby food.”
“No, this is really good,” Jack said, meaning it. He scooped in several more bites before continuing, “I love comfort food, and your sister never made it.”
Silence.
Jack replayed what he’d said in his mind and then felt like a complete jerk. He shouldn’t be making comparisons. He shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.
After a moment Arianna spoke, her voice more thoughtful than condemning. “Chloe was more like our mom, who really wanted to be sophisticated about food,” she said. “She was a wannabe foodie.”
“So that’s where Chloe got it,” he said, relieved that she had ended the awkwardness. “What about you?”
“Oh, I was a disappointment. I was always so ordinary.” She laughed dismissively.
Oh no, Arianna. You’re anything but ordinary.
Even the thought made guilt overwhelm him. Arianna might not know it, but Chloe had been pathologically jealous about Jack and other women—for no reason Jack could understand—and her jealousy had focused on her sister. Chloe had suspected that Jack was drawn to Arianna. That was one big reason she had pushed her sister away. And it was one reason Jack had always tried to keep his distance from Arianna. He didn’t want to stir Chloe’s anger or give her any cause at all to feel more jealous.
Now Chloe’s frequent disapproval echoed in his mind.
What was he doing, having Arianna in his house, in the mother’s role, having a family dinner?
Unfortunately, Chloe had shared her belief that Jack was attracted to Arianna with his parents, with whom she was quite close. And considering how negatively Jack’s father had reacted to them having coffee together, if he heard that they’d shared a home-cooked dinner, say, it would create a big uproar.
Jack could deal with his father, but Arianna shouldn’t have to. Dad was blunt, sometimes rude. He could hurt Arianna. That was the last thing Jack wanted.
Oblivious to Jack’s inner turmoil, Arianna was spooning bites of meat loaf into Sammy’s mouth. She glanced over at Jack. “Look, he’s starting to eat with a spoon a little bit,” she said. “The next step will be to have him hold it himself. I’ve been reading about breaking everything down into small steps, and the TSS who was here yesterday helped me figure it out.”
Mixed feelings coursed through Jack. Arianna was warm. She was wonderful with Sammy. He’d done the right thing hiring her.
Except that he liked her way too much. Admired her. Could fall for her.
He stood and started clearing off the table, aware that it seemed abrupt but unable to sit still a moment longer. He brought a cloth over to the table and wiped Sammy’s face. Then he nodded at Arianna’s still half-full plate.
“I’ll take Sammy up to his bath and bed,” he said. “That will give you a chance to finish your dinner in peace.”
But as he picked Sammy up, Arianna pushed her plate away. “Do you mind if I come with you?”
As she tagged along to the bathroom, as she watched Jack kneel to gently wash Sammy, ignoring the fact that he was getting soaked himself, Arianna swallowed the tight knot in her throat.
She was absolutely blessed among women to be able to participate in her son’s care. To watch his loving father bathe him, to help put him to bed.
She didn’t deserve it. How well she knew that. God had given her grace.
Jack had gone quiet, but that was okay. Sammy liked quiet and peace. So did Arianna, for that matter. She handed Jack the hooded towel that hung on the back of the door, and he pulled Sammy out and wrapped him in it.
Sammy almost smiled, and Arianna’s heart melted at the sight of Jack holding his son in such a loving way.
If there were ever any question about whether adoptive parents could care for their children as much as biological parents did, it was answered in this tender moment. Jack clearly adored his son. And although Sammy wasn’t expressive, the way he stared up at his father, his focus and intensity, made Arianna believe that he adored Jack just as much.
God works all things for good.
Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes as she followed the father and son into Sammy’s room. She was tired, that was all. Like every day, she’d gotten up early to take a stab at cleaning her aunt’s kitchen, and then she’d driven up the mountain. She’d been working with Sammy most of the day and then painting in what little time off she had.
That had to be the reason she was emotional. She wasn’t getting enough sleep. She was tired.
“Pick him out a pair of pajamas,” Jack said as he sat on the edge of the rocking chair, Sammy bundled in the towel in his arms.
So Arianna knelt and opened the drawer of Sammy’s cute, pale blue dresser. She stared in amazement at the folded pajamas lined up perfectly in the drawer. Wow, Jack was neat. “Is there a particular pair he really likes?”
“The blue ones with teddy bears. They’re the softest.”
So she pulled them out and helped Jack diaper Sammy and then put him into the one-piece pajamas. Sammy rubbed the backs of his little hands over his eyes.
“Somebody’s tired,” Jack said. Tenderly, he set Sammy down in the crib and rubbed his arms and legs with gentle pressure. “It helps relax him,” Jack explained. “Helps him drift off to sleep.”
Hesitantly, Arianna reached in and did the same, rubbing her fingers gently along Sammy’s pajama-clad arms and legs.
What would it be like if this were real? If Jack was the father and she was the mother and Sammy was their child?
She already knew: it would be all she’d ever wanted in the world.
But no way, no way could she have it, and she was going to break her own heart if she kept having these crazy fantasies. She coughed, trying to clear her throat of the golf ball–size lump that had lodged there. “I think I’m going to go downstairs, give you two some privacy,” she said in a rush. She backed out of the room, and then, at the doorway, she spun and hurried down the stairs, her feet clattering. She’d probably woken Sammy up again, just when Jack was getting him to sleep, but it was better than falling apart in front of Jack and then trying to explain it.
She went into the bathroom, locked the door, sank down on the edge of the bathtub and turned on the fan and the water. Then she let the sobs come.
How had she ever given her precious baby away? Why, oh, why had she done it?
Intellectually, of course, she knew that it had been the right thing to do. She believed in adoption, and she’d read all the research showing that parental love in an adoptive family was just as strong as parental love in a biological family. Sometimes better if a biological parent wasn’t ready.
But what the literature hadn’t said was how much it could hurt the birth mother. How the thought, let alone the sight and sound and smell, of the child she’d grown in her own body could tug her heart straight out of her chest.
Arianna had been drifting through life ever since she’d given birth, and this was why. Because there was a hole in her. Because she felt incomplete and didn’t know if that would ever change. Because she was grieving the fact that she couldn’t see her son, spend the days with him, get to know him, watch his every move.
She heard Jack’s heavy tread on the stairs, and it brought her back to reality. She was in a better position than a lot of birth mothers, because she’d placed her child with family. And now she did get to help with Sammy. She did get to know him, at least some, and she could see for herself that he was fine, doing well. It was more than she had ever expected, because it was more than Chloe would ever have permitted. It was more than many birth mothers had, and it would have to be enough.
She splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe, in the dimming light of evening, Jack wouldn’t notice that she’d been crying.
But when she came out of the bathroom, he was standing in the middle of the living room waiting for her. He studied her face, tilting his head to one side. “You okay?”
She nodded quickly. “Fine,” she said, afraid to say any more. She hurried into the kitchen, started gathering up her things. “I hate to leave you with this mess,” she said to him when he followed her. “Just let it go and I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”
“You’re already doing enough for us,” he said. “Besides, you know I like to clean.”
Even in the midst of her distress, that made her smile. “You’re strange,” she said.
“In a bad way?” His tone was light, but his gaze lingered on hers.
She licked her lips. “I better get going,” she said nervously.
“I feel terrible about having you drive down the mountain,” he said. “Why don’t you just stay up here tonight?”
His offer seemed to hang in the air between them. What was he actually suggesting? Why was he looking at her that way? And why was her own heart beating so fast?
She reached for her newfound faith and values. “Jack, I would never... That’s not what I do.” She was about to say more, to describe the change she’d gone through.
But he held up a hand as color climbed from his neck into his face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he said, his words tumbling over each other. “I just meant, I hate to have you drive so late at night. I’m sure you could stay with Penny.”
“No, no,” she said. “I have to go. I need to go home. I’ll be fine.” She headed toward the door. When she went to open it, he was there, opening it and holding it for her.
He was so close that she could smell his spicy, masculine scent.
He stared down at her and lifted his hand. One finger brushed her cheek.
She drew in her breath with a gasp. He was going to kiss her. And God forgive her, but she was going to let him.
But something came into his eyes and he pulled back, his expression disconcerted. “Go get in your car,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll watch you.”
“Jack...”
“Go on. Now.” It was an order.
And there was something in his eyes, some wildness that she had never seen in her gentle brother-in-law. She spun and scurried to her car, her heart pounding so hard that it made her breathless.