Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby: Mother's Day Miracle / Blessed Baby

“No, it doesn’t! Can’t you see that I only want to help these kids? I’m not asking you to be involved,” she added scornfully. “And I’m not after your money or your house or anything like that.”

“No, you’re after my kids.” His eyes glinted belligerently.

“All right! Yes, I am. I’m asking you to consider them and what it must be like to grow up like this. They can’t have friends over because there’s no one here to supervise.”

“I hired someone.” His chin jutted out as if to say “so there.”

“I know.” Clarissa nodded. “Mrs. Anders. She couldn’t come this afternoon so she asked me to stop in once they were home from school. But it’s not the same.” She continued. “They haven’t any spare time to go out with chums because there are so many chores.” She waved a hand at the house behind them.

“You talk about my house being run-down, but at least it has more than one bathroom and lots of bedrooms. This place is too small!”

As she searched his face for a hint of acquiescence, Clarissa let her heart’s desire pour out. “Why would it be so wrong to let me coddle them a little bit? I promise I’m not after you. I know I’m not wife material—I’m not beautiful or desirable or any of those things men want in a wife, but that doesn’t matter, does it? I can still be a friend to them, and a darn good one! I can love these kids and be there for them. Why won’t you let me? They’ll still love you, Wade. I would never do anything to change that.”

Wade stared at her, his mouth hanging open. He reached out and lifted a strand of her hair and tucked it back behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her cheek. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, sober. Clarissa steeled herself for the rebuff she knew would come.

“There’s nothing wrong with your looks, Miss Cartwright. You have a soft-spoken kind of beauty that any man in his right mind would find attractive. But I’m not that man. I have nothing to give. It’s all I can do to provide for four children. I don’t need a wife to look after, too.”

“Actually, I was in no way suggesting that. But those children are exactly why you do need a wife,” she countered, then stopped as the grim line returned to his mouth. “I’m not proposing, Wade. Really, I’m not! But will you at least let me help out once in a while? Will you come over for a meal now and then? Will you let me help Pierce with his birds and Lacey with her biology? Just until you’ve got things more settled?”

Wade studied her for a long time, but when he spoke there was a hint of amusement in his low tones. “Frankly, I’d be ecstatic if you’d take over Lacey’s biology. It’s a subject I detest, especially the dissecting. And you know very well that Pierce has never stopped questioning you about his collection, in spite of my protests.”

It was an admission, but Clarissa wanted more.

“And you’ll come for dinner? Tomorrow? No, Friday. You’ll let me help Tildy with her school cooking stuff?” She waited, her breath held till it hurt her chest.

“We’ll come for dinner on Saturday,” he finally agreed. “And I suppose it won’t hurt for Tildy to get some help, once in a while. But that’s all. Nothing more. You won’t drop over and clean the house or mend clothes or do the laundry.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do you promise you won’t pretend there’s something more going on when the busybodies start talking?”

“Of course not!” Clarissa was scandalized by the very idea. “I’m just a friend, and I’d like to help you out.”

“Fine. Then I’ll help out, too.” He sniffed. “Whatever’s cooking in that oven didn’t come from Tildy’s hands. In repayment for your assistance, I’ll fix your roof.”

“Oh, but it’s just a chicken pie!” She frowned, trying to imagine how much fixing her roof would cost him. “I didn’t expect you to—”

“Take it or leave it,” he warned, but there was a glint in his eye that warmed her heart. “If you help us, we help you. Friends.”

Her decision was unfairly influenced by the drop of rain on her nose. “I’ll take it. I’ve got to get going.”

“To put pails out, no doubt. You should have had it fixed months ago.” Wade shook his head as he surveyed the sorry condition of her weathered gables and red-rimmed turrets. “I’ll come over tomorrow and take a look.”

“You don’t have to—”

His look silenced her.

“All right. Thank you very much. I’ll be at the library till eight. We stay open late on Thursday.”

“I know. Believe me, I think I’ve been told everything about you.” He didn’t make it sound like a compliment.

“Really?” Clarissa frowned. “Like what?”

“You have this,” one finger trailed across her jaw where it curved up to meet her ear, touching the hairline scar, “because, at age six, you helped get Johnny McCabe out of a tumble-down barn. You broke this arm when Petey Somebody dared you to jump off a granary, and Sarah Kingsley stopped being your best friend when she stole all your doll babies in grade two.”

Clarissa gaped at him, nodding her head as he spoke.

“Mercy, they must be serious,” she whispered. “The townsfolk haven’t told anyone that stuff since Harrison.”

He frowned. “Harrison? Harrison was the man you were engaged to. He dumped you when your old friend came back to town. He married her instead of you.” Wade’s voice held a hint of sympathy. “What a jerk!”

“Harrison wasn’t a jerk,” she murmured, staring into Wade’s knowing gaze. “He was just confused. I wasn’t what he wanted, but Grace was. She was very beautiful, just like a model. I couldn’t compete with that.”

“He was a fool. Beauty goes a lot deeper than the skin.” Wade’s hand dropped away from her face as he took a deep breath. His eyes hardened. “But don’t get any ideas, Miss Cartwright. I’m not in the market for a wife. And I am not Harrison’s replacement. Not in a million years.”

The pain he inflicted with those words bit deep and it was all she could do not to burst into tears. She didn’t want someone to replace Harrison! She wanted someone better than him, a man who would think she was as wonderful as Harrison found Grace; she wanted a storybook kind of love.

Clarissa walked out of his yard, crossed the alley and yanked her own gate open. She stopped, turned and stared at him, only then realizing that he’d followed her.

“No, you’re not him,” she agreed quietly. “I don’t think anyone could ever replace Harrison in my life.” Then she closed the gate, walked across the yard and into her big empty house.

“Harrison was a sign,” she whispered as she stared out the window at the falling rain. “A sign that I’m supposed to be alone. And you, Wade Featherhawk, just confirmed it.”

She forgot all about the pails as tears, hot and bitter, coursed down her cheeks. How it hurt, to have those children there and not to be able to love them as she wanted, to mother them.

“It doesn’t matter,” she sobbed to the Lord, determination setting her jaw. “I’ll be their mother in my heart. He can’t stop me from loving them. No one can.”

But as the tears dried and her heart calmed, Clarissa couldn’t help remembering the look on Wade’s face. He’d wanted to let her help, wanted to let her in. She’d seen that.

So why didn’t he? Why was he so afraid to trust, let her into his world?

Chapter Three

Eight weeks to the day after he’d moved to Waseka, Wade pulled up to the curb in front of his house at five minutes to six, and parked, grinding the gears as he hadn’t done since he was thirteen. He forced himself to open the truck door, even though every muscle in his body begged him to just sit there and vegetate.

Man, he was tired. He couldn’t ever remember being this bone weary before. His eyes were bleary and unfocused and his hand wasn’t steady. Maybe if he put his head down, just for a moment, maybe then he could get his second wind. Or third.

“Wade?”

Oh, no, not her again! Wade huffed out a great puff of air, his brain groaning. What now?

“Wade, I think you’d better open your eyes and listen to me.”

Clarissa’s soft voice sounded deadly serious. He blinked his eyes open. Her face was white. Of course, it was always pale, but now it had lost all color. Her eyes were red and her hands blackened, as if she’d been playing in the dirt. There were the smudges all over her long floaty skirt.

How many times had he dreamed of that skirt?

“Wade? There was a fire.”

He jerked awake, his brain revving into high gear. “The kids?”

“They’re fine. They’re at my place.” She took a deep breath. “That’s not all.”