Lonestar Angel (15 page)

His lips brushed her brow in the darkness. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His breath stirred her hair, then his lips trailed down the side of her face. “You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.”

She held her breath and nearly turned her head to press her lips against his. What was she thinking? This was much too dangerous. But she was too languorous to move, her muscles too heavy with desire. They’d always had this chemistry between them. She never should have agreed to this charade. But all her internal protests weren’t enough to make her move.

She pulled away a fraction. “I think I want to see her. Is that crazy? She doesn’t love me, but I still love her. She entertained men, and those were awful nights. But I also remember the evenings we watched TV and ate pizza together.”

“It’s perfectly understandable.”

“Is it?” she whispered. “To love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

“Maybe she realizes her error. She might have found God too.”

Was that possible? She’d prayed for her mother. Somehow it made the pain of rejection better. Clay touched her cheek and turned her face toward him. She was helpless to resist him.

“I’ve missed you, Eden. So much.”

His lips trailed across her face to her lips. She couldn’t help the way her arms came up and pulled him closer. Why not? They were married. It was perfectly natural. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she heard a tap at the door.

“Miss Eden?” Madeline’s voice. “Paige wet the bed and it got on my nightgown.”

Clay groaned and his arm fell away. “I thought five was too old to be wetting the bed.”

“They’re still babies.” She felt cold without his arms around her. “I’ll be right there,” she called, swinging her legs out of bed. It was just as well. Making love to him would have led to endless complications when the time came for their lives to separate.

The bedding had been changed and the girls settled. Clay still detected the faint stench of urine, but the apple candle Eden lit was quickly chasing the odor from the room. The candle’s flickering light illuminated five eager faces turned toward where they sat on the edge of the bed with Katie and Paige.

“Sing to us,” Madeline demanded. “Do you know ‘Amazing Grace’?”

Clay didn’t want to look at Eden’s expression, but he had to. He’d overheard her singing in the shower a time or two, but she never sang when she thought someone was listening. She was biting her lip as she tucked the blanket under Katie’s chin. The air conditioner hummed.

“I know the song,” Eden said. “But you need to go to sleep.”

“I have to hear it,” Madeline insisted. “I tried to play it on the CD tonight, but it’s scratched.” The other girls chimed in with their pleas as well.

Clay saw Eden physically wilt at the plaintive tones in the girls’ voices. “I’ll sing with you,” he said.

“You can sing it by yourself,” she said.

“He can’t sing,” Lacie said, over in the next bed. “I heard him in the barn today. He sounded like the cow.”

Clay grinned. “Just for that, you might have to be tickled.” He wiggled his fingers at her, and she squealed and huddled under the covers. He looked at Eden. “I don’t think you can get out of it.”

She sighed and stared at Madeline’s determined face. “Then you have to promise to go to sleep. Mr. Clay and I are tired. It’s nearly eleven.”

“We will,” the girls said in a chorus.

Tension radiated from Eden’s slim shoulders, clad in pale blue cotton. He could still feel the texture of her pajamas under his palm from earlier. Probably just as well they were interrupted. She had no intention of working on the marriage. Any entanglement would make the ultimate breakup even more painful. He would not think about how right she had felt in his arms.

“You start,” he said. “I’ll chime in.” He waggled his brows at Paige, who giggled and pulled the sheet up to her chin, then sneezed.

“‘Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.’” Eden’s voice was a little choked but sweet and even.

“‘That saved a wretch like me.’” His raspy voice blended with hers.

“‘I once was lost but now am found. Was blind but now I see.’” His eyes stung when he saw the way the girls listened. Did they feel lost as they went from foster home to foster home? Only a couple of them had stayed in the same place. The hunger in their eyes made him want to gather every one of them in his lap and never let go.

And Eden. She’d had the same experience they had. He saw the sheen of her eyes and the way she gulped down her emotion. What would have happened to them all but for God’s grace? His gaze met Eden’s across the bed as the song ended. The pathos in her eyes told him she saw it too. The hunger for love in these little girls.

“Time for sleep, kiddos,” he said. He and Eden made the rounds, brushing kisses across every cheek. “Love you, honey,” he told each little girl. The starved way they wrapped their arms around his neck brought a lump to his throat. Katie didn’t want to let loose of Eden, and he watched her hold the child close.

He followed Eden back to the living room and dropped onto the sofa. “That was hard,” he said. “They need love so badly. Every one of them.”

Her eyes were moist when she turned to stare at him. “You love kids so much. Why didn’t you just sign the divorce papers and remarry? You could have had two or three more by now.”

“God hates divorce. So do I.” His voice shook, and he tugged his boots off. There were so many things they’d never told each other about their past and how those things had shaped the person they’d become. “My parents divorced when I was seventeen,” he said, wincing when his voice showed his pain. “I always thought it was my fault. They were always arguing about something, and usually it involved me. Whether I would be allowed to stay out late the night of homecoming. Whether I should have a job. I realize now I was just a convenient excuse to show their dislike for each other.”

He glanced up to see sympathy in her eyes. Was there any hope of tearing down the walls between them? He was willing to try.

She sat beside him on the sofa. “You’re worried about Brianna and how growing up with us divorced would affect her.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Of course. She’s been in a foster home, without the security and love of her own parents. We don’t even know what kind of circumstances Brianna has been in, but looking at the girls’ reports, not one has been in a place I’d want our daughter to experience.”

He tried to read her expression, but she kept her gaze on the clasped hands in her lap. “Do you still have any hope left, Eden? Hope for that perfect little family we dreamed about once?”

She raised her eyes to his. “Sometimes. But I’m afraid, Clay.”

His pulse leapt at her admission. “You think I’m not? I failed you and Brianna once. I want to be here for you both and never let you down again.”

Something flickered in her eyes. He wanted to believe it was the beginning of a bit of trust and hope, but before he could nail it down, one of the girls let out a heart-stopping scream.

“Get away, get away!” the child’s voice shrieked.

Clay leaped from the sofa and rushed for the bedroom. Eden was right behind him. They spent the next hour soothing Katie from her nightmare, but watching Eden’s face, he wondered if she was thinking about what he’d said.

15

E
DEN
’
S EYES WERE BLEARY FROM LACK OF SLEEP
. S
HE
’
D TOSSED AND TURNED MUCH OF THE
night with the words of the old hymn echoing in her brain one minute and the thought of what she would say to her mother the next. She sat sipping her coffee with Allie and Della at the kitchen table while Rita bustled around clearing away the breakfast dishes. Beyond the window, Clay and the children were out with Rick and Zeke, headed to the corral for another riding lesson.

“I needed coffee this morning,” Della said, taking another swig. “One of the girls was throwing up all night.” She nibbled on a piece of toast.

“Eden, you’re pensive,” Allie said, dumping more Cheerios in Matthew’s bowl.

Eden felt she didn’t know Allie well enough to bare her soul about her mother. Or God. “Paige wet the bed last night. And Katie had a nightmare. By the time we got the bedding changed and all of them settled down again, it was one.”

Allie winced. “That was one of our fears when we agreed to take kids this young. We had plastic mattress covers put on all the beds.”

“Good decision. She soaked everything. I’ll bring the laundry over after a while.”

“Tepin will get it,” Rita said. “Won’t you, Tepin?” she asked the quiet worker who was washing the dishes.

Tepin nodded. “When breakfast is over, I get it.”

“I hate to cause you more work,” Eden said.

“It is my job,” the woman said.

“I want to watch Barney,” Matthew demanded. He banged his spoon onto the table and began to slide down from the chair.

“I’ll turn on the video,” Rita said. “Madeline will be sorry she missed it. And I made her some peanut butter fudge. I was hoping she’d hang around this morning.”

“She’s glued to Clay,” Eden said. “All five girls think he’s Superman.”

Rita smiled. “I’m making him the hero of my novel. He’s enough to make all my readers swoon.”

The other woman’s focus on her novel was cute. Eden took another sip of her coffee. “The girls have all had such a hard life. It’s heartbreaking.”

Allie’s smile faded. “That was the hardest thing to get used to while running this camp. We love them for a little while and try to make as much difference as we can. Eventually we have to let them go, though. The only way I can get through it is to put them in God’s hands.”

“Why would he let them go through something so awful?” Eden asked. “I’ve never figured that out.”

Allie’s forehead wrinkled. “Life is hard, Eden. For everyone. We all have different challenges to face. All those hardships strengthen our faith and form us, though. I suspect God has great tasks in mind for some of these children. They’ll need great grace to accomplish those tasks, so great trials are needed.”

Eden frowned. “You believe trials change us?”

“Don’t you? Have you ever had a trial that didn’t?”

When it was put that way, Eden supposed she hadn’t. “Some changes aren’t always for the better.”

Allie shrugged, then stood and picked up Matthew’s bowl. “Only if we allow ourselves to be bitter and resentful over our lot in life. Sometimes we have to ask how we can allow this to make us a better person. There’s always a choice in how we react.”

Della sat listening quietly. “Was that you I heard singing late last night? I thought it was ‘Amazing Grace.’”

Eden smiled. “Madeline insisted. It’s her favorite song and she claimed she couldn’t sleep without it.”

“Sounded to me like you knew the song pretty well.”

“I do.” Something squeezed in Eden’s chest. She stood and walked to the door. “You need me for anything, Allie? I have to make a call.”

Allie shook her head. “I’m going to check on Matthew, then take Betsy over to play with Gracie’s daughter, Hope.”

Rita came back into the kitchen and called after Tepin, who had slipped out the back door. “Bring those soiled linens and don’t dawdle. I’m doing laundry today.”

Eden grabbed the portable phone from the wall and took it outside, where she settled onto the porch step. The breeze brought the scent of the desert to her nose. Some sweet smell from the wildflowers blooming on the hillside. The purple and yellow blooms fortified her for what lay ahead. She dug the number Daniel had given her out of her pocket and punched it into the phone. Her gut clenched as it began to ring on the other end. The pen in her fingers slipped to the ground and she picked it up.

The phone was answered by a woman with a gravelly voice that made Eden assume she was at least fifty. Or a smoker. Eden cleared her throat. “This is Eden . . . um . . .” Should she say Larson or Davidson? “Davidson,” she said. “Eden Davidson. Someone from your office sent me a letter to tell me that my birth mother is asking for contact with me.”

“Ah yes, Ms. Davidson. Your foster brother said you weren’t interested. If you’ll give me your social security number, I’ll log in your refusal.”

“Actually, I’d like to contact my birth mother.”