The Gift (12 page)

When Cora had first met Evan during his residency at the hospital, she’d been convinced that they were meant to be together because they had many things in common. They both had careers in the medical field and were dedicated to their jobs. They enjoyed traveling and had taken trips to several places around the country whenever they could. Once Evan got established in his own private practice, he’d bought them an upscale condo, with all the benefits of high-class living. When Jared was born, they’d sold the condo and bought a house. Evan was thrilled when he found out Cora was having a boy—said he couldn’t wait to build a relationship with his son.

“Yeah, right! Where’s Jared’s father now, when Jared needs him the most?” Cora grumbled. At this stage in their son’s life, he needed his father more than ever—especially when Cora didn’t have a clue what a teenage boy really wanted or needed. All she knew was that Jared hadn’t been happy since Evan walked out of their life, and she had no idea what to do about it. Apparently, Dr. Evan Finley wasn’t the dedicated father she’d thought him to be. Emily, the pretty blond nurse who’d stolen him from Cora, seemed to be all he could focus on these days. What kind of power did a woman like her have over a man? Was it because “Miss Blondie” was younger than Cora? Or did she have a personality that meshed better with Evan’s?

Sighing, Cora pushed the covers aside and rose from the bed, stretching her arms over her head.
Maybe I should sell this place and move somewhere else—someplace where there aren’t so many temptations for Jared. Perhaps a rural area would be better than living here in the big city. Jared might find a better class of friends if he lived in a more wholesome environment. If we moved, I wouldn’t be the focus of the hospital gossip mill, either.

Cora moved over to the window and stared out at the drizzling rain. She and Jared were still living in the house Evan had bought for them several years ago. It had been their dream home, even though it needed some improvements. Over the years, they’d remodeled it nicely, choosing one project each summer, the last one being a new roof. Not thinking anything of it when they chose the type of roof, it was beyond Cora why she’d ever agreed to the fancy roofing tile. It just added to her annoyance this morning, with every
ping
of raindrops hitting the roof reminding her of what used to be. Looking out the window, Cora felt irked by how agreeable she’d always been with Evan—not just concerning the roof he’d chosen but about practically everything else he’d wanted.

We should have chosen regular shingles like most of the other homes in this area have,
she fumed, folding her arms.
But no, Evan had to have the best of everything. Humph! Guess that’s why he went for someone younger than me.

It still amazed Cora that Evan had let her keep the house. He was so selfish, she figured he’d not only want his new wife but the house he’d once shared with Cora, too.

Even though Cora’s home was lovely, her anger toward Evan made it difficult to look at his favorite chair or the bed they’d once shared. The death of a spouse, whom one loved so dearly, would be difficult for anyone, but divorce was a bitter path, filled with many regrets. Every time Cora saw Evan and Emily together, her slow-healing wounds reopened. A clean break might be the only way for her and Jared to get through this ordeal.

Think I’ll call a Realtor after I get off work today and see how much he thinks I can get for the house. Then I’ll put my résumé out to a few of the hospitals and clinics in some of the rural areas here in Illinois and see what happens.

Arthur

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” Leah’s mother asked as they prepared breakfast that morning.

Leah shrugged while stirring cinnamon-dusted apple slices in a frying pan. “Not much, really. I don’t have anyone coming for a reflexology treatment today, so I thought I might stop over at Adam’s and see how he’s doing since his sister’s death. I’m sure it must have been a terrible shock for him to lose his sister and brother-in-law.”

Stirring a batch of oatmeal, Mom turned her head toward Leah. “I didn’t realize he was back from Indiana. I thought Adam would stay there a few more weeks in order to take care of his sister’s estate.”

“I heard he was coming back last night, and I don’t know why he didn’t stay longer. I ran into Elaine yesterday, and she said that Ben told her Adam was bringing his nieces home to live with him.”

Mom’s mouth formed an O. “A bachelor raising three small girls? I don’t see how that’s going to work.”

“I’m sure he will hire someone to help out.” Leah removed the frying pan, took three bowls down from the cupboard, and placed them on the table. “Thought maybe I’d take some cookies for the children, because I doubt that Adam does any baking.”

Mom raised her eyebrows, giving Leah a questioning gaze. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re going over there?”

Leah’s face heated. “Of course that’s the only reason. What other motive would I have for going to Adam’s house?”

“Well, he is an attractive man.”

Leah held up her hand. “Don’t get any ideas about me and Adam, Mom. He may be good looking, but he’s definitely not my type.”

“Exactly what type of man are you looking for, Leah?”

“One who will love me for the person I am. Someone who respects my opinion. Of course, I’m not looking for a man, so there’s no point in discussing this.” Leah opened the silverware drawer and took out three spoons. She should have known better than to mention Adam, and maybe she shouldn’t go over there today. But she loved children and wanted to meet his nieces and see how they were all doing. They’d been through quite an ordeal and needed some reassurance. She was almost certain that Adam didn’t have a clue how to care for his nieces. The children needed nurturing, and with Adam working all day, how could he offer them that?

But if she ever decided to go over to his place again, she’d just go without mentioning it to Mom. No point in giving her false hope. Leah was not interested in Adam.
And he’s certainly not interested in me.

W
hat’s that supposed to be?” Ten-year-old Amy squinted her brown eyes and pointed to the plate of pancakes Adam had placed on the table.

“It’s
pannekuche
.” Adam gestured to the maple syrup beside the plate. “You girls like pancakes, don’t you?”

“Jah, but these are burned.” Linda, who was seven and also had brown eyes, plugged her nose, backing away from the table. “They smell awful, too.”

“Aw, they aren’t so bad.” Adam absently rubbed his arms. “They’re just a little brown around the edges.”

Amy thrust out her chin and folded her arms. “Our mamm wouldn’t have burned the pannekuche, and we’re not gonna eat ’em. Besides, they don’t even look like pancakes. They’re too
flach
.”

Before Adam could respond to Amy’s comment about the flat pancakes, four-year-old Carrie looked up at Adam, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “I’m
hungerich
.”

Carrie reminded Adam of his sister—shiny brown hair and ice-blue eyes. He had to turn away so the girls wouldn’t see his tears.

Feeling more helpless by the moment, Adam was tempted to tell the children that the pancakes were all he had for breakfast, but then he remembered there was a box of cold cereal in the pantry. “If you three will take a seat, I’ll get some cereal,” he said, moving in that direction. “You like cereal, don’t you?”

Adam sighed with relief when they all nodded. “Okay, that’s good.”

When Adam returned with the cereal and milk, the girls were seated at the table. Three innocent faces guardedly watched him, as if to see what he would do next.

He then poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Amy. “Let’s bow our heads for silent prayer.”

“Don’t you think we need some bowls and spoons? I mean, how do you expect us to eat cereal without ’em?” Amy questioned.

His face heating up, Adam got up and took three bowls down from the cupboard, then he grabbed some spoons from the silverware drawer. After placing them on the table, he sat back down. “There. How’s that?”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Linda wanted to know.

He shook his head. “I’m not that hungry this morning. A cup of coffee’s good enough for me.” The truth was, Adam’s stomach was so knotted he didn’t think he could eat a thing.

Amy grunted and pushed a lock of blond hair out of her eyes. She’d obviously made an attempt to braid her hair, as well as her sisters’, when they’d gotten up. But Adam could see that the braids were loose and probably wouldn’t hold up all day.

“I’m gonna pray that Mama and Papa come and get us soon,” Carrie announced.

“They’re not coming to get us ’cause they’re in heaven with Jesus.” Linda’s brown eyes filled with tears. “Don’t you remember when we put Papa and Mama in the ground at the cemetery?”

Carrie shook her head vigorously. “No! They’d never go in the ground. It’s cold and dirty down there.”

Adam’s throat constricted. Carrie either hadn’t realized it was her parents they’d buried, or else the little girl was in denial. Then again, perhaps she was too young to grasp the concept of what death really meant. He tried to think of the best way to explain, but once again her older sister spoke up.

“There’s no point talking about this right now ’cause it won’t bring Mama and Papa back.” Amy took a drink from her glass of milk.

Carrie’s eyes widened, and she started to cry. “They’re gone for good?”

Amy nodded then grabbed the cereal box and poured some into their bowls, adding some milk. Pushing two of the bowls in front of her sisters, she said in a bossy tone, “Just eat now, and quit talking.”

“We can’t eat till we’ve prayed. God wouldn’t like it, and neither would Mama and Papa if they were here.” Linda looked over at Adam, as if waiting for him to comment.

“That’s right,” he agreed. “We always need to pray and thank God for the food.”

Amy wrinkled her nose. “It’s a good thing we don’t have to eat those pannekuche ’cause I’m sure they’d taste baremlich. I could never be thankful for that.”

The constant rain outside could be heard hitting the roof, and Adam lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. What was he going to do with his nieces today? They wouldn’t be able to go outside and play—not in this nasty weather. He had a few games but no puzzles or anything exciting to keep them entertained other than a coloring book and a box of crayons. If there was one thing he knew with certainty, taking care of three little girls was not going to be easy. Short of a miracle, he didn’t see how he could manage the task alone. “As soon as we’ve finished our prayer, I’ll take the pancakes outside for the dog.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet even Coal won’t eat ’em.”

Adam was tempted to argue the point because so far the dog had eaten anything set before him. But instead of trying to explain that, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.
Heavenly Father,
he prayed silently,
please give me the wisdom and strength to see that Mary and Amos’s girls are raised properly.

Adam’s place was less than a mile from Leah’s, and had it not been for the steady rain and the food she was bringing, Leah would have ridden her bike. Instead, she’d gotten out the horse and buggy.

In addition to the peanut butter cookies Leah had baked, Mom had sent along a chicken casserole Adam could heat for supper this evening. She hoped he and the girls would like it.

Leah had only met Adam’s nieces briefly when their parents had attended church during one of their visits last year. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for the girls, losing both of their parents and then having to leave their home and move in with their uncle in another state.

She thought about Elaine, who had lost her parents when she was a girl and had been raised by her grandparents. But there’d been two adults to nurture and guide Elaine throughout her childhood. Adam wasn’t married and lived alone. Surely he had no idea how to care for his nieces.

I guess it’s none of my business,
Leah told herself.
If Adam needs any help with the girls, I’m sure he’ll ask for it.

When Leah pulled into Adam’s yard, she spotted the black Lab sitting on the porch.
Guess I was right about the hund,
she told herself.
That dog must belong to Adam.