Hidden in the Heart (23 page)

Claire followed Jessie into the kitchen. Jackson was perched on a stool at the counter. He turned when they entered the warm room.

“Clayah!” Jackson put his arms out, a delighted smile lighting his face. Claire picked him up and held him close, needing his tight hug.

“Action Jackson! What’s up?” She planted a kiss on the blond head and plopped him back on the stool.

He played with the zipper on his red footie-pajamas, faded from many washes. His pj’s displayed an image of his favorite Disney movie, something about cars, she couldn’t remember now. “Papa’s making pancakes, see?”

“Really, Mac? I didn’t know you could cook.” Claire straddled a stool beside Jackson and grinned at the look Mac gave her. Jessie laughed and excused herself, saying she needed to get dressed.

“Ayuh. I was a cook in the army. Made the best grub in Vietnam.” Mac poured batter into a fry pan. The sizzle and tempting aroma of pancakes and sausages soon made Claire’s mouth water.

“Sure smells good.”

“Ayuh. You’re up awful early, ain’t ya?” Mac chuckled and winked at her.

Claire laughed, pulling a stray thread off Jackson’s pajamas. “Figured I’d tag along to church with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Yay!” Jackson gave a whoop. “We gotsa walk though. It’s far.”

“No, it’s not. Just up the road a stretch.” Mac put two plates down in front of them, a small helping for Jackson and three huge pancakes for Claire, with a side of sausage and bacon. “Coffee?”

“Please. Oh, I don’t think I can eat all this.”

“No matter.” Mac poured two mugs of coffee and juice for Jackson. He settled across the worn counter with his own meal. Claire picked up her fork, but then hesitated. Jackson had smothered his food with syrup, but he hadn’t started eating yet, so she decided to wait. Claire had been invited to eat more than a few meals with them and knew they prayed before eating. Maybe they did it at breakfast too.

Mac closed his eyes and gave a heavy sigh.

Claire watched Jackson shut his eyes tight and clasp his hands under his chin. Mac prayed for Darcie, prayed for Jessie and Rick and Jackson and even for her. Claire couldn’t stop a smile as she Jackson opened one eye to see whether Mac was close to finishing. Mac was.

“Geesus is name amen.” Jackson speared a piece of pancake and shoved it in his mouth. Claire burst into giggles and Mac’s tired eyes lit with a smile.

“Dig in, Claire. Nice to have you here.” He kept his gaze on her for a moment and Claire felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She and Mac hadn’t spoken much since she’d come to Tara’s Place. He seemed to keep to himself. Claire sometimes got the feeling he wasn’t exactly thrilled with her presence here. Since her first thoughts about searching for her birth mother, Claire was becoming well acquainted with the feeling of being unwanted. She lowered her gaze and focused on her food.

They ate while Jackson entertained them. The child enjoyed his food, but he also liked to talk. Mac scolded him more than once about speaking with food in his mouth. Eventually he finished his plate and was sent upstairs to get dressed.

“Looks like you were hungrier than you thought.” Mac nodded toward Claire’s empty plate.

Claire stared in surprise, almost embarrassed. “I guess I was.”

“It’s good for you. You need some meat on those bones.”

His eyes came to rest on her again and Claire shifted. “Have they said when Darcie might be able to come home?”

“Maybe sometime this week, long as they get rid of the fever.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and gave her a warm smile. “You and Darcie got the same spirit. She’ll pull
through just fine, same as you. Don’t you worry ’bout our girl.”

Claire balled up a paper napkin, his words resonating. They had the same spirit all right. “Will Darcie’s mom come to see her?”

Mac’s steady gaze faltered for an instant. He cleared his throat and began to stack the plates. “I doubt it.”

“Has Jessie spoken to her yet?”

“Not that I know of.” He walked across the kitchen and put the dirty dishes in the sink.

Claire rose and grabbed the ketchup and syrup, going toward the fridge. “I’m sure it would mean a lot to Darcie if she came. And you and Jessie too.”

“Oh, sure. But…” Mac let out a weary sigh and turned to face her. “We don’t get on. There’s good reason for it and I don’t blame her for staying away. But I don’t wish for the impossible. Not like your…Jessie.”

Claire drew herself up and inhaled. Did Mac and Jessie have their own suspicions?

She couldn’t ask him. Not now. Didn’t have the nerve.

“Well, now.” Jessie breezed into the kitchen, pretty in a peach-colored pantsuit. Claire rarely saw her dressed up and couldn’t help smiling.

“That’s a good color on you.”

Jessie grinned and smoothed down the linen fabric. “Ach. This old thing. I really should get into town and buy a couple of new outfits. Darcie’s always after me about that.”

Claire glanced down at her jeans and light cotton blouse. “Should I go change? I didn’t know what to wear.”

“Oh, no. You’re fine. Our church doesn’t stand on ceremony.” Jessie went to the sink and shooed Mac away. “You go on and see what Jackson’s doing.”

“Thanks again for breakfast, Mac,” Claire said as he made for the door. He looked
over his shoulder, shook his head and flashed an almost shy smile.

“My pleasure.” His voice sounded thick and he hurried away. Claire sighed and wondered if she should say anything to Jessie. There was no way for her to know whether Mac and Jessie knew their daughter had given a child up for adoption. She would hate to be the one to break it to them if they didn’t. Still, they were her grandparents. They needed to know the truth.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why she’d been brought her here.

Chapter Twenty-One

They hiked up the beaten path together. Jessie walked in step with Claire, Mac just aways ahead, with Jackson on his shoulders. When they rounded yet another corner and the church came into sight, Claire sucked in her breath.

The round wooden structure sat at the crest of the hill surrounded by pine trees. A metal cross was secured in the middle of the gray slate roof. She recognized Rick’s handiwork at once. The cross was simple enough, but hung around it, carved out of bronze now green with age, was something that looked like a cloth.

“Coming, Claire?” Curiosity made her stare longer than she’d realized, and Jessie’s voice startled her. She nodded and hurried to catch up.

About ten people stood around in groups of two or three, chatting. Claire didn’t know any of them but they all smiled and greeted her warmly. She managed her own greeting and went into the church with Mac and Jessie. There were more people inside and soon they were surrounded, everyone enquiring after Darcie.

Jackson ran off with a group of children his age and older. Claire looked for somewhere to sit. There were no pews or regular chairs. Hollowed out tree trunks carved into benches or individual chairs were placed around the circular room. The homey smell of pine permeated through her. Brightly colored rugs lay on the floor, beautiful banners hung on the walls ablaze with color. Some were quilted, others embroidered, some made from flannel.
They held messages like
Jesus Saves
and
God is Love
.

Where was the one that said
Exit
?

Three men sat on stools toward the front of the room strumming on guitars and singing.

“This is a surprise.”

Rick’s low voice made her turn. He nodded her way and she smiled. “I was supposed to come today with Darcie.” Sudden tears burned her eyes. She should invest in the Kleenex Company—they were making a fortune on her consumption alone.

He returned her smile and stepped toward her. “So what do you think of our place?”

Claire laughed. “It’s not like any church I’ve ever been in.”

“That’s kind of the point.” Rick chuckled and rolled up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt he wore un-tucked over jeans “Mac and a bunch of us built it a few years ago. We don’t have a pastor or any of the traditional ‘church’ type things you’d expect to find. Come have a seat.”

Claire sat beside Rick in one of the tree chairs, which were surprisingly comfortable. She wound her thumbs around each other and wondered what would come next. After a moment the others sat, some around them, some on the floor. A middle-aged man made his way up to the front of the church.

“Welcome friends. Let’s pray.”

~

Claire sat silent through most of the singing. She didn’t know the words but she liked the music. When Mac got up to speak, she just about fell out of her chair. She listened intently to his every word. By the time he’d finished, she had a feeling he was talking directly to her.

Mac closed his Bible and nodded his head. “I’ve made some terrible mistakes in my
life. Most of you know our story. We founded this very church on God’s promises of restoration. We clung to the hope of forgiveness and we pressed on after Him, seeking His truth and His love. I’m still holding on to those promises. I don’t know how to explain things like cancer, babies dying and families being torn apart. But I do know we all have choices to make.”

He cleared his throat again, his face turning a deeper shade of red. Tears stood in his eyes. “We can choose to blame God when things go bad or we can choose to praise Him, and trust that He loves us, even through the hard stuff. Through the things we just don’t understand. Even when we’re not all that sure He exists. Oh, I don’t have all the answers and I don’t pretend to. Not anymore. What I do know is this: My God loves me.” He thumped his chest and gave a hoarse chuckle. “
No matter what
.” Mac’s eyes came to rest on Claire. She held his gaze, but her jaw trembled.

He
was
talking to her.

And it was entirely possible, perhaps even probable, that God was talking to her too.

She stood on the edge of a precipice, not knowing whether to jump or step back and return to the safety of solid ground. Every word reached down into her soul and soothed her, pouring a healing balm on raw skin.

Claire wasn’t sure what Mac said after that. She lowered her head and allowed her tears to fall. The only thing she was aware of was Rick’s gentle hand on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be all right Claire.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Just let it out.”

Agonizing sobs ripped through her as every awful memory of the past year of her life flooded back.

Her mother dying.

The last miscarriage, sirens screaming through the night.

James’ awful silence afterward.

Every harsh word they’d said to one another and all the things they hadn’t said.

She heard Jessie on the other side of her, and then Mac. Claire allowed the pain to surface. There was so much of it and she’d been fighting it, holding it at bay for far too long.

It was time to let go.

“God, please…help me.” She barely recognized her own voice.

Eventually she raised her head and wiped her eyes. Only Mac, Jessie and Rick remained, all the others gone. A peace and a sweet blessed release she could not explain filled her soul. Claire smiled and basked in the luxury of it. Slowly she met Jessie’s eyes and unspoken words passed between them.

Claire reached for Jessie’s hand and squeezed it tight.

Jessie smiled and placed her other hand on Claire’s cheek. “Let’s walk back. We’ll get some lunch. Then later, we’ll talk.”

~

Claire sat with Mac and Jessie on the back porch. Rick took off after lunch saying he had work to do at home. Jackson was down for his nap. Claire had read him a story and eventually his little eyes closed and he fell asleep. They planned to take him to see Darcie later.

Claire fiddled with the beaded bracelets on her arm that Darcie made for her. Nobody said anything for a while. Claire half hoped one of them would speak first, tell her they knew she was their long-lost granddaughter. But it didn’t happen. Eventually she looked over at Jessie, suddenly nervous.

“I have something I need to tell you.” Claire forced herself to look at them. Her voice came out soft and shaky and feared she might break down again. Jessie and Mac exchanged a worried look, but still didn’t speak.

She pulled at the gold chain around her neck, found her courage and went on. “You know I went down to Connecticut for my birthday, the day Darcie was taken to hospital. I had an interesting conversation with my father. We talked about my adoption.” She clenched her fingers around the sides of the rocker she sat in and told them everything.

“My dad only wrote down the last name, but he memorized my birth mother’s given name as well. It was Michelle. Michelle Kelly.”

The afternoon sun bled through the thick pines around the lake. Squirrels chattered and birds chirped, but all Claire heard was the thumping of her heart. She settled her gaze on Jessie and waited.

The silence was broken every now and then by the birds. Tears slipped down Jessie’s cheeks. Mac patted her arm every now and then, his forehead creased as he glanced from her to Claire. Then Jessie stood abruptly and went into the house.

Claire stared at Mac, worry wrapping around her and squeezing tight. “Where is she going?”

“Don’t know.” He was quiet, thoughtful looking, studying Claire as though seeing her for the first time.

Jessie hurried back out onto the porch, her eyes lit with sure excitement. She held out a silver-framed portrait and placed it in Claire’s hands.

Claire stared at the image and sucked in her breath. “Is this your daughter? Michelle?”

Jessie nodded, her eyes shimmering. Further explanation wasn’t needed. The face in the picture was almost identical to Claire’s.

Jessie held Claire’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and shook her head. “I knew who you were the minute I laid eyes on you. Oh, he didn’t believe me,” she shot her husband a grin, “but I knew. I’ve prayed for you every day, my dear. Prayed that one day God would bring you back to us. And He has.”

Tears blurred her vision, but Claire managed to get to her feet. Jessie enfolded her in a tight hug and held her as they both cried.