God was giving him a spiritual workout. For two days—forty-eight hours—he sweated while he waited, all the while marveling at Gabby’s mustard-seed faith. His little princess never stopped smiling. Instead, she would ask in the morning and evenings if Ryder had heard from her mom, and he would tense when he told her that he hadn’t, expecting Gabby to fall apart.
But she only tilted her head and said, “God’s going to do it. Because I asked Him.”
Every time she said that, her quiet confidence punched him in the gut. Ryder could only nod and say, “Yep. He will.”
On the evening of the second day, Gabby sat at the kitchen table with her legs tucked under her. She was coloring in her Disney-princess coloring book when she made the usual inquiry about her mother calling, and he gave his typical response. But this time, she narrowed her gaze and looked at him like she was seeing his thoughts. “Do you believe that she’s going to call, Daddy?”
He stepped back. “Um. Well, she might be busy.”
Gabby’s face fell. Picking up her crayon, she said, “That’s why she hasn’t yet. Because you don’t believe it’s impawsible.”
“You mean possible.” His mouth popped open at her perceptiveness. She was five, but her thinking was that of someone twenty years older. “Of course I think it’s possible.” It was only logical that Brittany would reach out eventually.
“But you have to belief,” she insisted, getting to her feet and walking over to him.
“I do believe,” he replied, putting emphasis on the word.
“Then, can you pray, Daddy?” she asked, putting a hand on her hip like she was grown.
I have been praying, he wanted to say. But had he really prayed with the kind of faith required? “Okay, honey, I will pray.”
He held her hand and prayed to God to ask that He allow Brittany to call. As soon as he ended the prayer and Gabby had returned to her coloring, his cell phone rang. Hope filled his chest when he looked at the screen. But it was a number he had identified as spam. Defeated, he allowed the call to go to voice mail. He slipped the phone in his back pocket and exhaled, feeling silly for thinking God would come through that fast.
Did God view his prayers as spam calls? A nuisance? An annoyance? A disturbance compared to even more important prayers?
He squelched those questions and recited Matthew 7:9 under his breath. “Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?” God wouldn’t do that, and he would keep repeating the Scripture until it became his truth.
Later that night, after he had tucked in Gabby and gotten into his king-size bed, his cell phone rang. It was facedown on his nightstand, and Ryder almost let the call go to voice mail. Almost.
The mustard-seed hope refused to die.
Even though his eyes burned, Ryder picked up the phone, yawned and uttered a sleepy, “Hello?”
“Ryder?” the voice asked.
“Brittany? Is that you?” He shot up, wide awake, and threw off the covers. “Of course it’s you.”
“I’m so glad I finally got through,” she said, laughing and sounding relieved. “You don’t know how many times I tried to reach you, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. We prayed. Gabby prayed for you to call.”
“Well, He must have heard your prayers, because this is the first clear line I have gotten in weeks.”
He put her on speaker, scampered into Gabby’s room and turned on the light. Then he gave his daughter a light shake. “Gabby, wake up, wake up. Mommy’s on the phone.”
She sat up with his help, her head lolling from side to side, and rubbed her eyes. “What?”
“It’s Mommy, sweetie. Mommy is on the phone.”
“Oh.” Her voice sounded groggy and lacked enthusiasm—a sure sign that Gabby was not awake enough for his words to register.
“Gabby?” Brittany called out, but Gabby’s eyes remained closed. Ryder had to prop her up with his elbow to keep her from falling back onto her pillow. Great. God had answered her prayer, but she was too tired to know.
He slipped to his knees by the edge of her bed, wiped his brow and tried again, his voice in a panic. Ryder wasn’t sure how long Brittany would be able to stay on the call or when she would be able to call again, so it was imperative Gabby talk to her mother now.
“Gabby. Gabby. Mommy is on the phone. You’ve got to wake up.”
“Gabby, baby, it’s Mommy,” Brittany said in a louder tone. He could hear the slight hysteria in her voice and knew that Brittany also feared disconnection.
Lord, please let Gabby wake up.
One little eye popped open. “Mommy?”
“Yes, honey,” he said, relieved. “You wanted to talk to Mommy, and God answered your prayer.”
She emitted a loud yawn and opened her other eye, seeming more alert. “Mommy, I asked God for you to call me, and He did it.”
“I’m so glad you did,” Brittany said. “Ryder, can you hold up the phone so I can see her?”
She was on FaceTime? He must have been sleepier than he thought. Ryder held the device up in Gabby’s line of vision.
“Oh, baby, I see you. I see you.” Brittany began to cry. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too. Guess what, Mommy. Guess what! I lost my tooth!” she yelled.
Taking the phone from him, Gabby began to pace the room just like Ryder did when he was on the phone. Ryder’s lip quirked. He sat on the carpet, scooting until his back was against the wall while his daughter filled Brittany in on everything she could remember. Gabby mentioned Cara’s name several times.
Ryder knew Brittany would be asking him about her once Gabby was off the phone.
“Are you coming home for Christmas?” Gabby asked. He waited with bated breath for Brittany’s response.
“Um... I’ll see, baby,” Brittany said.
Uh-oh. He knew that meant Brittany wouldn’t be back by Christmas and was stalling, unsure of how to tell Gabby.
“You said we would have a real Christmas this time,” Gabby said, clutching the phone. Her face crumpled like she was about to cry.
“Uh, something came up. But I mailed you a present. It should get there way before Christmas.”
“But it’s not the same,” Gabby said, her voice breaking. She came over to where Ryder sat and dropped onto his lap. Gabby hid her face in his chest, holding the phone away from her.
Ryder had to clamp his jaw shut to keep from interfering. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Gabby and urged her to talk to her mother. She did, but her voice lacked excitement. Her body slumped against his, feeling as weighty as her disappointment.
“Let me talk to Daddy,” Brittany finally said when she couldn’t appease Gabby anymore. “I love you, Gabby.”
“I love you too,” Gabby said, handing Ryder the phone and running back into her bed. She covered her head and burrowed under the covers. He could hear her quiet sobs, but he knew he had to talk with Brittany in private before he could console his child.
“You know she’s disappointed, right?” he said, furious that Brittany wasn’t keeping her word.
Her large eyes pleaded with him. “I got a chance to take part in this groundbreaking research, and they won’t let me take Gabby. Can you explain that to her for me?”
“You expect a five-year-old to understand why her mother can’t be here for Christmas? Why can’t you take a break?”
“Not everyone in the world celebrates Christmas, and I have the chance to become the lead. The flights are too expensive, and I’d spend most of the couple days I have off traveling. Gabby and I can have Christmas when I return,” Brittany said, her voice steely. “She knows my work is important—”
“More important than her?” he challenged. Bitterness rose within him. His parents had put his feelings last, and to see the same thing happen to Gabby stoked his fury.
“I had Gabby for five years, toting her along with me. I just can’t take her on these expeditions. Besides, I can’t concentrate with her here.”
His chest heaved and he told himself not to judge Brittany by his parents’ actions. “I get it. But don’t you see how this is hurting her?” This punctured him deep in his core. “I love that little girl with everything within me, and she needs you.” He stopped and exhaled long plumes of air, trying to calm himself. He wasn’t going to beg a mother to spend time with her child. He wasn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her tone repentant.
He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his temples. “The milk is already spilled, so to speak.” Changing topics, he asked, “When are you coming back?”
“Right after New Year’s.”
He nodded. Gabby was going to be upset, but he would have more time with his daughter. “Did you get my emails about sending all her medical records and that Gabby has to see an ear specialist?”
“Yes, I did,” she said, her tone now calmer and businesslike. “I emailed you scanned copies right before I called. The originals are packed in the box with Gabby’s Christmas present.” Brittany leaned closer to the camera. “Care to tell me about Cara?”
Ryder didn’t miss the fact that she hadn’t asked about Gabby’s referral to the specialist. She was more concerned about his next-door neighbor.
“She’s a friend.” That’s all he would say. He gave her a challenging look, hoping Brittany didn’t have a problem with Cara being in Gabby’s life. Because Gabby would be devastated.
After a few beats, Brittany said, “I see. I trust you, and Gabby seems to like her—so I’m fine with it, I guess.”
He could hear the jealousy in her tone and knew it was about Gabby. Ryder rushed to reassure her. “No one can take your place, Brittany. You’re her mother. Remember that.”
“I know,” she said, wiping the corner of her eye. “I just needed to hear you say that.” Her lower lip quivered. “I don’t want Gabby to hate me.”
“She doesn’t. She loves you. So don’t worry about that. You didn’t desert her. You left her with me. Her father. The past few months with Gabby here have added meaning to my life in ways that I can’t explain. I would have her for a lifetime if I could. If you wanted me to.” There, he had said it. Planted a seed. Maybe it would develop into something.
“Gabby is a precious little girl,” Brittany said, straightening. “But I am coming back for her.”
“Okay,” he said. “But we can work out something once you’re back in the States, because I need my daughter in my life. Maybe we can get joint custody.”
She averted her eyes. “I’ve got to go, but please email me and let me know what’s going on with her hearing,” Brittany said before she disconnected the video call.
Ryder went to check on Gabby. His daughter was sound asleep. He turned off her bedroom light and closed her door before traipsing down the stairs.
Wolf’s ears perked up, and he gave a little moan.
It was late. Really late. But Ryder couldn’t get to sleep until he reached out to Cara. She would want to know that they had finally heard from Gabby’s mom.
He sent her a quick text. Prayers have been answered.
She replied so fast that Ryder knew she had to have already been awake. Woot! Woot!
Sauntering over to look out his living room window, he could see her bedroom light was on. Want to fill you in. Meet me outside in five?
The three dots danced until her answer appeared. I’m bringing hot chocolate.
“Ms. Cara’s coming over,” Ryder said to Wolf, opening the front door.
At that, his dog stood and shook his fur. Then he joined Ryder by the door, wagging his tail. Wolf appeared to be as anxious to see her as he.
Chanel didn’t cry over spilled paint. She kicked the can instead. Okay, it had been an unintentional accident, and the can had been on tarp, but the end result was that her wooden floor had been marred with paint the size of teardrops. She had been cleaning paint off her kitchen floor when Ryder’s text came through. So she was more than ready for a break.
After tossing her soiled pants and work boots into the trash, she changed into a dark blue track suit and sneakers and donned a thick coat before hiking across the yard to Ryder’s house. She held a thermos of hot cocoa she had quickly mixed up. Maybe it was the hour, but Chanel hadn’t thought to ask Ryder to make the hot cocoa since she was going to his house and not the other way around.
Wolf yelped when he saw her. She gave the hand signal for him to sit. When he did, Ryder clapped. “He’s come so far.”
“I think we will have our last lesson tomorrow morning, and then I’ll let Wolf show off his skills.”
“I don’t know how I can thank you,” Ryder said.
She thought about the paint on her kitchen floor. “I do.” She explained the dilemma.
Ryder laughed. “I’ll bring a can of acetone when I come over tomorrow morning. That should do the trick, and your floors should be good as new. Oh, don’t forget that we’re going to Gabby’s appointment at twelve thirty.”
“I have it marked on my calendar,” Chanel said. She was glad he had asked her to tag along, because she would have texted him every five minutes to ask what was going on anyway.
She held up the thermos, and he went to the kitchen cabinets to get two big mugs. Returning outside, handed them to her, and she poured cocoa for each of them. Handing him one of the steaming mugs, she curled her fingers around the other, welcoming the warmth against her hand. Blowing on it, Chanel sat in one of the chairs on Ryder’s porch and took a sip. Wolf settled by her, using her leg as a back scratcher.
“So, what happened with Gabby’s mom?” she asked, not bothering to hide her curiosity. She was eager to know more about the woman who had given birth to such a sweet child and captured Ryder’s interest, even if for a short time.
“Gabby was excited to finally hear from her. Brittany is in some remote location, so it was hard for her to reach us, but she’s sending over Gabby’s pertinent information along with her Christmas gift.”
Chanel furrowed her brows. “I thought she was coming in time for Christmas?”
“Her plans changed. She won’t be back until after New Year’s. Or at least, that’s what she said.” His tone implied that he didn’t believe her. Ryder gave a little chuckle. “I even brought up the idea of joint custody, though what I really wanted to say is that she should just leave Gabby here with me full-time and visit when she pleases.” He sat in a chair next to her, drank some of his hot chocolate and rested his mug on the floor. “I know she wouldn’t do that, though.”
Chanel heard the secret yearning in his voice and wished there was an easy solution. “How did Gabby take it when she heard her mother wasn’t coming home in time for Christmas?”
“She was upset. When Brittany was leaving, she promised to give Gabby a spectacular Christmas, since Gabby’s never had a chance to really celebrate the holiday. She was always on some excavation site with her mother, so any celebration had to be minor.”
“Oh, wow.” Her chest constricted. “Every child deserves to have a memorable Christmas. Besides honoring Christ, Christmas is all about spending time with family and opening presents first thing in the morning. I remember not being able to sleep the night before because I couldn’t wait to see what my parents had gotten me.”
And her sister. Chanel and Cara had often received similar presents in different colors. But she couldn’t mention that. She felt a pang at having to leave that out. Every year for the past forty-one years, Cara and Chanel had spent the holiday together. Of course, Cara had traveled to Chanel’s house since she wouldn’t come here.
Except this year.
She looked over at Ryder, who had gone quiet. He was staring straight ahead, sipping his hot chocolate.
To distract herself, she continued, “Although, as I got older, the best part was stringing the popcorn, making eggnog and watching It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s sort of a family tradition.”
Her neighbor didn’t say a word.
“What about you?” she asked, thinking she had been rambling so much that he hadn’t had a chance to contribute to the conversation. “What do you remember most about Christmas?”
“My parents leaving me.”
His words made her gasp. She slapped her forehead. “Oh, Ryder. I was so caught up... It slipped my mind...”
“No. It’s okay.” He turned to face her. “I haven’t celebrated Christmas since that day. For me, it’s just another day, so I didn’t mind that Brittany was coming for Gabby, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about it. But now that she isn’t coming, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have any good memories about December twenty-fifth.”
She held her stomach. Hearing the sorrow in Ryder’s voice made her heart ache. “How about we get through Thanksgiving? It’s not even December yet, so you’ll have quite a few weeks to get used to the idea.”
“I don’t have to get used to something I don’t do.”
His tone sounded final.
Even though her mind told her to let the matter rest, Chanel couldn’t remain quiet. “I’m sorry, but you’re a parent now. This isn’t about you. It’s about Gabby and what she needs.”
Ryder’s lips curled. “She doesn’t need a holiday to know I love her. I tell her that every day,” he said, his tone frostier than the night air. “I think you have a different definition of need than I do. Gabby needs clothes, food and shelter, and I have provided that for her,” he said, pointing toward the house. “That’s what she needs.”
Putting a hand over her mouth, Chanel said, “I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“Oh yes, you did,” Ryder said, cutting her off. “You’re not a parent. So don’t presume to try to tell me what to do with my child.”
She sucked in a huge breath. Her mug crashed to the floor. Chanel didn’t realize she’d loosened her hand to touch her chest. His harsh words sliced her to the core, and for a moment, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
Looking at Ryder, Chanel couldn’t believe he had said those words knowing how much she had wanted children.
Standing, Chanel rushed down the steps, almost tripping in her haste to get home.
She felt a hand on her back and flinched.
Ryder spun her around to face him. His eyes were wide, like he himself was having trouble processing what he had said. He touched her cheek, “Oh, Cara. I was upset. I didn’t mean that.”
Her eyes filled. “But you said it. And words, once spoken, cannot be taken back or forgotten.”