01_Gift from the Heart (12 page)

But he was turned toward Jack. And as she watched, a brief, knowing look passed between the two brothers.

Feeling like an eavesdropper, Clare quickly turned back toward the front. But she couldn’t help wondering what that look was all about.

“Do you think Dad will be surprised?”

Clare turned toward Nicole, who was setting the table. Fresh flowers were arranged in a glass bowl in the center of the snowy-white cloth, and there was a festive feel in the air. “Absolutely. I think he’s convinced we’ve forgotten his birthday entirely. I didn’t say a word to him about it this morning.”

“Me, neither.”

Clare flipped the switch for the oven light and checked the meat thermometer. “Looks like we’re about ready. Now let’s hope the guest of honor is on time.”

As if on cue, they heard the sound of crunching gravel as Adam’s car pulled up the driveway to the garage.

“Showtime,” Clare said with a smile.

Nicole nervously wiped her hands on her oversize apron. “I hope he likes everything.”

“Pork tenderloin, potatoes au gratin, green beans almondine—and a killer birthday cake—what’s not to like?” Clare said encouragingly.

“Yeah. I guess.”

A moment later they heard the door open. Adam strode into the room—but then stopped abruptly as his gaze fell on the beautifully set table, then traveled to the Happy Birthday banner and balloons that decorated the room.

“Happy birthday, Dad.”

He heard the barely suppressed excitement—as well as the touch of uncertainty—in Nicole’s voice, and gave her his full attention. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”

She giggled. “We wanted to surprise you. That’s why we didn’t say anything all day.”

Adam looked at Clare. “So you were in on this, too, huh?”

She smiled. “Guilty. But it was mostly your daughter’s doing. In fact, she cooked most of the dinner.”

“It smells wonderful.”

“Well, it’s all ready. Go ahead and sit down, Dad.”

Adam did as instructed, and while Clare and Nicole set out the food, he couldn’t help recalling last year’s birthday. There had been no celebration. Nothing at all to mark the occasion. If Nicole had even remembered that the day held special significance, she had chosen to ignore it. His childhood memories weren’t much better. The only concession to birthdays in his father’s house had been a cake for dessert. Even during his marriage, he and Elaine had simply gone out for dinner—usually to a restaurant of her choosing. He had never had a birthday like this, in his own home, with decorations and a dinner cooked especially for him. He felt his throat grow tight, and there was an odd stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“Would you like to say grace, Adam?”

At Clare’s gentle voice, he looked up, noting that she and Nicole had taken their places. Forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, he nodded and bowed his head.

“We thank You, Lord, for this wonderful meal, and for the gift of special people in our lives. We thank You for the many blessings You give us, for Your comfort and companionship in times of trouble, and for the joy and peace that comes from knowing You are always with us, in good times and bad. I ask Your special blessing today on Nicole and Clare, who have given me a birthday to remember. Please watch over them and keep them in Your care. Amen.”

When he finished, the wistful look in Clare’s momentarily unguarded eyes told him that his words had touched her deeply.

Adam couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a meal more. The food Nicole had prepared was wonderful—thanks, he was sure, to Clare’s close supervision—but even better was the company. Nicole chatted animatedly throughout the meal, and the easy banter among the three of them was in marked contrast to the silent, strained meals he and Nicole had shared prior to Clare’s arrival. He had only one word to describe the transformation that had occurred in his relationship with his daughter:
miracle.

Which was exactly what he’d prayed for. Thanks to an unexpected nanny. Adam thought back to his early conversations with Clare, how her surprising offer hadn’t been exactly the kind of help he’d had in mind when he’d asked the Lord for assistance. But he also recalled reminding himself at the time that God’s ways weren’t always our ways. And that maybe Clare was the answer to his prayer.

As he regarded the lovely woman sitting across from him, he suddenly knew there were no maybes about it. Recalling Jack’s advice, he also knew exactly what he was going to wish for when he blew out the candles on his cake.

“I can’t eat one more bite,” Adam groaned as he finished off a second slice of the split lemon torte.

“So it was okay?” Nicole asked anxiously.

He grinned. “It was more than okay. It was the best birthday cake I ever had.”

She smiled, and the pleasure in her eyes warmed his heart. “Cool!”

He reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You can cook for me anytime.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without Clare. She showed me how to make all the stuff.”

“Then my hat is off to Clare, too,” he acknowledged.

“And did you like your presents?”

Adam smiled. Nicole had given him the latest detective novel by his favorite author, and Clare had knitted him an incredible fisherman’s sweater. He couldn’t even begin to guess how many hours it had taken her to complete it.

“They were wonderful.” His compliment encompassed both of his dinner companions, and a becoming flush spread over Clare’s cheeks.

His response obviously satisfied Nicole, too. “I guess we did okay, huh, Clare?”

She smiled. “I guess we did.”

Nicole turned back to Adam. “So do you have to work tonight?”

“Not unless someone calls.”

“Good. Then we can play a game before I do my homework. You’re supposed to have games at parties.”

Adam grinned. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at pin the tail on the donkey.”

She gave him a what-planet-are-you-from? look. “Dad, that is prehistoric! Nobody does stuff like that anymore. I borrowed a game from Candace that we played at her slumber party. It’s called Revelation.”

He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “How does it work?”

“Well, everyone draws ten cards, and each card has a question. Like, ‘What’s your middle name?’ or ‘What are you most afraid of?’ Stuff like that. And you write your answers down. Then all of the questions get put in a pile, you draw them one by one, and everyone has to guess who wrote what answer. The person who guesses right most often wins.”

Adam shifted uncomfortably. The game sounded a little too personal to him. He was trying to be more open about his feelings, but he wasn’t sure he was up to something this potentially revealing. Even though he could almost hear Jack telling him to loosen up, he just wasn’t there yet.

Adam was literally saved by the bell when his pager went off. Trying not to look too relieved, he reached for it and read the message. “I need to call the exchange,” he said when he finished.

Nicole made a face. “But it’s your birthday.”

“People still get sick.” He stood and put his hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you start that homework, and we’ll try to fit the game in later?”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“Hey.” He leaned down. “Even if we don’t get to the game, this is still the best birthday I ever had.”

She searched his eyes. “Really?”

“Really.”

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’m glad.”

“Now you scoot, and I’ll take care of this call.” He stood and looked over at Clare. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take your time. I’ll get the dishes started.”

Adam took as long as he possibly could with the call, and by the time he returned Clare had restored the kitchen to order.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes. Is there any coffee left?”

She checked the pot. “Looks like a couple of cups. Would you like some more?”

“I’ll get it.” He helped himself, then glanced toward the hall.

“I mentioned to Nicole that you were probably tired after working all day and might not be up to the game,” Clare told him.

He shot her a grateful look. “Thanks.”

She dried her hands on a dish towel, then folded it carefully and set it on the counter. “You didn’t seem too anxious to play.”

He took a sip of coffee. “I’m not sure it’s my kind of game.”

She looked at him. “That’s what I figured.”

What else did she figure, he wondered. Even though he’d been careful not to reveal too much about himself, this insightful woman seemed to understand things about him that he barely understood himself. Which was more than a little disconcerting.

But also encouraging. Because she hadn’t backed off at his reticence, nor had she seemed put off by any negative conclusions she’d come to. Adam had told Jack that he trusted Clare. But he hadn’t actually done anything to prove that. Maybe tonight was the time to see if he could live what he said he believed, as Reverend Nichols had suggested in his Easter sermon four weeks before.

“I thought I might sit on the porch for a while. It’s a beautiful night. Would you like to join me?” he asked, striving for a casual, conversational tone.

Clare looked at him in surprise. The porch, with its wicker furniture and its restful view of blue-hazed mountains across the valley, was one of her favorite spots. But Adam rarely had the time—or took the time, she corrected herself—to enjoy it. She was glad he wanted to take advantage of it tonight. It would be a nice ending to his birthday.

“Sure. Let me grab a sweater.”

He waited until she reappeared from the mudroom, a light sweater slung over her shoulders, then followed her to the front porch. Clare sat on the settee, assuming Adam would choose the matching chair at right angles. But to her surprise he settled in beside her, their bodies just a whisper apart. As the faint but heady scent of his after-shave filled her nostrils, her pulse suddenly vaulted into overdrive and her breath lodged in her chest.

Clare was completely taken aback by her reaction to Adam’s close proximity. And she was more than a little frightened when a surge of longing swept over her, so strong it stole the breath from her lungs. Trying not to be obvious, she discreetly attempted to put a little more distance between them. But she was already wedged against the unyielding arm of the settee. Short of getting up and calling attention to her predicament, she had no choice but to remain where she was.

“Jack really enjoyed this spot while they were here for Easter,” Adam remarked, clearly oblivious to her dilemma.

Clare swallowed. It had been a long time since she’d had a reaction like this to a man. Visceral, powerful—and ill timed. She wasn’t ready to get involved with any man. Especially this man, who was struggling with his own demons. Get a grip! she admonished herself, drawing in a long, steadying breath.

“I know you guys spent a lot of time out here one evening,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice even. “He and Theresa are really a nice couple.”

“They have something special,” Adam agreed. “And I’m happy for them, of course. But sometimes…well, I guess I’m a little…envious.”

She could relate to that. Watching Jack and Theresa interact over the holiday had been a bittersweet reminder of the good times she’d enjoyed with Dennis. “It’s hard to be alone,” Clare said quietly.

He shook his head. “It’s not just that. I don’t even have happy memories to fall back on, like you do. Even when we were at our best, Elaine and I…we never related the way Jack and Theresa do. We were never that much…in sync.”

Clare had a feeling that they were moving on to untried ground. Though she had on occasion glimpsed deeply felt emotions in Adam’s eyes, he had never before spoken of anything this personal. The closest he had come was the day of Nicole’s party, when he’d alluded to his emotionally bleak childhood.

“Maybe you and your wife just weren’t compatible,” she ventured cautiously.

“That was certainly part of it,” he conceded with a sigh. “We got way too serious way too fast. And that was my fault.” He paused, and his voice was more halting when he resumed speaking, as if he had to dig deep to find the words. “I had…very few friends growing up. And I didn’t date much. So I was completely blown away when Elaine took an interest in me. Later, when things started to fall apart, I realized that she…she had always been more interested in being married to a doctor than to me.”

Knowing what a tight rein he kept on his feelings and emotions, and how carefully he protected his heart, Clare could only imagine what that admission had cost him.

“It sounds to me like there was fault on both sides,” she said gently.

“Mostly mine. When I was growing up, my father…he made fun of us if we showed emotion—of any kind. He thought it was a sign of weakness. Jack was able to get past that and march to the beat of his own drummer. That’s probably why he has such a happy marriage. But I…I wasn’t as strong as he was. I cared what my father thought and tried to please him. Though I never did, of course. So I gradually closed up. And eventually I…I lost the ability to express emotions and to…connect with people.”

Clare frowned. “That’s not true, Adam. I’ve seen you with your patients. They love you. You have a wonderful bedside manner.”

He dismissed her comment with a frustrated shake of his head. “That’s different. It’s all one-sided. They teach you how to listen and be sympathetic in medical school. But on a personal level, when you’re trying to establish a relationship with the people you love, it has to be a two-way street. Listening isn’t enough. You have to share with them, too. Let them see what’s in your heart. I’ve never been able to do that.”

He expelled a long sigh, and when he took a sip of his coffee Clare noticed that his hand wasn’t quite steady. “Eventually, that’s what turned Elaine off. Despite the fast courtship, despite the fact we married for the wrong reasons, maybe we could have worked things out if I’d been willing to let her in. But I couldn’t. Instead, I began focusing more and more on the one area of my life where I felt capable—medicine. Which only made matters worse. And over time, any love between us died quietly, gradually slipping away, until one day it was simply gone.”