Missionary Daddy

Baby Gabriel, sitting on Sam’s lap, reached for a slice. Ashley gently pushed his hand away and made a face. “I’ve been with you all day and you haven’t eaten a bite. Eat. You’re not going to lose your skinny-model body over a single piece of pizza.”

Sam blinked, stunned. No wonder the pizza smell was killing her. She really hadn’t eaten anything all day. Six years ago the monster of anorexia had sent her to the hospital, malnourished and dehydrated. Nobody, not even Ashley knew about her secret shame.

Since that frightening wake-up call and the subsequent months of treatment, she was regimented about her eating, making sure she took in sufficient nutrition every day. Somehow she’d gotten off schedule since coming back to Chestnut Grove.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, Sam reached for a pizza slice. “Smells awesome.”

Ashley chowed into a fourth slice. “Tastes even better.”

Sam forced the pizza to her lips and took a bite. “Mmm. Delish.”

The food lodged in the back of her throat. She grabbed her diet soda can and swigged, forcing the pizza down. During times like this, times of high stress or emotional unbalance, the anorexia tried to rear its murderous head. She’d done enough damage to her body already. Damage that might never heal. She couldn’t allow the disorder to take control again. Next time, it might kill her.

“Why don’t you come to church with us tomorrow, Sam?” Ashley asked as she handed LEGO blocks to her son with one hand and stuffed away pizza with the other.

“Chris is coming down after service.”

Ashley’s face glowed when she mentioned her fiancé, Chris Sullivan who pastored a church in Williamsburg. Some Sundays she and Gabriel drove up to spend the day with him. On others, he drove down to spend the afternoon with them. He was a great guy who’d helped Ashley forgive herself for past mistakes, and Sam was glad to finally see her sister so happy.

“The whole church thing seems weird to me.”

“There’s nothing weird about being a Christian.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Since coming home, Sam had noticed a radical change in her family. Once cold and distant, her parents suddenly wanted to be close, to make up for lost time. They’d started attending church with Ashley and Gabriel and wanted Sam to do the same.

“I wish Mom and Dad had been this enthused about family when you and I were kids.”

Gabriel threw a block onto the floor and laughed.

“Me, too, but if I learned anything through the ordeal with losing Gabriel and trying to get him back again, it’s that we can’t change the past. We have to move on, and try to do better in the future.”

Ashley’s teenage pregnancy had been a pivotal event for all of the Harcourts. Too afraid and ashamed to tell anyone, she’d given Gabriel up at first. When Sam had found out, she’d rushed home to help her sister regain custody of the baby. She couldn’t imagine not having this precious boy in their lives.

Since then, Ashley was working hard to complete a degree in fashion design and looking forward to a future as Christopher’s wife. She’d been lucky to find a man who not only didn’t hold her past against her, but who loved her son as his own.

“I’m glad you found your path in life, sis. Really, I am. But church is so foreign to us Harcourts. All we’ve ever needed was money.”

“Look what that got us.” Ashley ripped off a piece of pizza, blew on it, then slid it into Gabriel’s open mouth. Though the little guy had been well fed before the pizza had arrived, he responded with a toothy grin.

“Yeah. Reporters calling day and night to ask what we know about the adoption scandals. The whole town acts as if we personally stole babies and still have them hidden in the attic thirty years later.”

They both laughed at the silliness. Gabriel patted the side of Sam’s face with Bob the Builder. She caught his hand and kissed it, drawing in his clean baby smell as a powerful love welled up inside.

“I don’t know why Grandfather falsified adoption papers and birth certificates. I wish I could understand. He hurt a lot of people.”

“Money, Sam. Barnaby Harcourt was all about making money. That’s all I remember about him. He looked like a kindly grandfather but he spent every waking moment getting richer.”

“He could have made money by adopting out children honestly.”

To the deep embarrassment of all the Harcourt family, Barnaby had extorted money from people who had given up their babies and then had spent years blackmailing them. Even the town mayor had fallen victim.

“Life has been insane around here since the construction workers found those papers in your wall,” Ashley said.

“The Cavanaughs are nice people. Ben didn’t deserve to find out about his birth parents that way.”

Ironically, one of Ben’s construction-company employees, Jonah Fraser, had discovered the hidden files. Since then, reporters had been hounding the Harcourt family, trying to blame them for Barnaby’s misdeeds.

Hammering issued from the other end of the house.

“Funder,” Gabriel said, eyes wide. For some reason, he’d developed a fear of thunder and lightning. Even though the hammering had continued off and on for weeks now, the toddler considered every sudden noise to be an ensuing storm.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sam crooned, raising the sturdy two-year-old body up to her shoulder. “Someday they will actually finish those rooms and stop hammering.”

Ashley chuckled. “And about the time they have the entire suite just the way you want it, you’ll run back to Chicago.”

“I don’t think so. I’m thinking of renting out my condo.”

“Are you serious?” Ashley’s face registered disbelief. “Why?”

“I’m not sure I want to go back to modeling.” Even while she was on hiatus, the pressure never stopped. Only today her agent had called, urging her to get back to Chicago. “Not full-time anyway.”

The idea horrified her sister. “Are you crazy? Why wouldn’t anyone want your life?”

“Africa,” she said simply.

Ashley titled her head, puzzled. “Now that makes perfect sense. Care to elaborate?”

Sam shrugged. “Africa did something to me, Ash. Poverty like I can’t even express and yet the people have this joy, this strength about them.”

“Excuse me if I have no clue what this has to do with your amazing career.”

“Everything.” Gabriel wiggled to be let down, so Sam turned him loose. He scooted toward the edge of the bed. “I want my life to matter more. I want to make a difference. Standing in front of a camera in pretty clothes seems so empty after what I saw there.”

“Well, half the female population would take your place in a heartbeat if they could.”

Sam knew it was true. She also knew a lot of things about the business her sister didn’t. Sure, hers was a great job, but money and success in modeling came with a high price. A price she wouldn’t share with anyone, even her baby sister.

She fiddled with the edge of the pizza box, tempted to have another slice. “What do you think of Eric Pellegrino?”

“He’s a hunk and a half. Almost as cute as my Chris. A nice guy, too. Everyone at church seems to like him.” Ashley poked a finger at Sam’s knee. “Why? What does Eric have to do with our conversation?”

“We met in Africa.”

Ashley’s mouth formed an O. “No kidding?”

Gabriel turned onto his belly and started to slide off the high bed feetfirst. Without breaking the line of conversation, Ashley helped him safely down. He toddled to his push pony and climbed aboard, saying, “Horsey, go.”

“I worked at Eric’s orphanage for a day,” Sam said. “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I found myself wishing I could stay there forever.”