Healing Autumn's Heart

Mr. Feazell chuckled. “Hannah, maybe you’ve been working too long. I haven’t brought you the fountain yet. Remember, I wanted to try to find that three-tiered one, so it’d be like the one in the square?”

Hannah looked at the empty spot in the middle of the display where the fountain should go and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

The old man laughed again and glanced over his shoulder. “You know, I did see another box of the miniature accessories in the middle of the store. Maybe that’s where that fountain is. Tell you what, Autumn. That’s your name isn’t it—Autumn?”

She nodded, her long curls bobbing with the action.

“Would you like to come look at all of the things we have for dollhouses and maybe help me find that fountain for the display? I bet Hannah might even let you put the geese around it, assuming we find it okay.” He grinned. “Sound good?”

Hannah knew Mr. Feazell was merely conducting business in his own way, showing off the toys that he thought would most appeal to the little girl. But Autumn smiled, and her father did too.

“Would you like to go look at the dollhouse things and try to help Mr. Feazell find that fountain?” he asked.

Autumn nodded, pressed her fingertips against Hannah’s cheek again then turned to the toy store owner. Mr. Feazell grinned and held open the curtain for her to pass through, and Matt Graham gently patted her back as they left.

“I love you, honey,” he said.

Autumn paused. She looked at him, then at Hannah, and then at her daddy again. “I love you, too.”

One hand moved to Matt Graham’s chin and stayed there as he watched Autumn walk away with Mr. Feazell.

The display area, which had seemed expansive all morning as she situated the mass of dollhouses, suddenly grew smaller as Hannah realized that she and Dr. Matt Graham were now alone.

She cleared her throat and stood, her knees popping loudly from kneeling so long. He didn’t seem to notice and appeared more intent to use this opportunity to talk to her than to comment on her noisy joints.

“Your name is Hannah?” he asked.

She was a little embarrassed at the fact that she hadn’t thought to introduce herself. “Yes, Hannah Taylor.”

He shifted the curtain aside and glanced into the store. Then he let the thin navy fabric fall back into place. “I didn’t want her to hear,” he said softly. “But I want to explain.” He breathed in, let it out. “Autumn hasn’t smiled and has barely spoken since we lost her mother. So when she smiled at you, when she spoke to you …” He pulled the curtain aside and glanced at his daughter again, then turned back to Hannah. “It was like watching a miracle. It’s been two years.”

Two years.

“Do I look like her mother?” In Hannah’s mind, that was the only reasonable answer for why the child would have come out of her shell today.

But he shook his head. “No. Rebecca had long curly red hair.” He smiled, obviously remembering his wife. “And lots of freckles.” Then his eyes seemed to be drawn to Hannah’s shirt, or more precisely, to the small pin on her left chest. “Rebecca had breast cancer.”

Hannah swallowed past the lump in her throat, and her hand instinctively moved to the pink ribbon pin. “You think she saw my pin from out there?”

“I don’t know, but somehow you reminded her of Rebecca.” He indicated the pin. “You’re a survivor, aren’t you? You’ve had breast cancer, too.” His eyes moved to her short hair, still growing back from her last round of chemo and radiation.

“I am. Actually, my sister and I are both survivors,” Hannah said, always finding it easy to smile with the thrill that they were both in remission now. “But we also lost our mother to breast cancer, like Autumn. So I know how much it hurts.”

He tilted his head, curiosity at Autumn’s awareness still evident on his face. “Well, for some reason, she was drawn to you. Whether it was the pin or not, I can’t say. But you got more words from her in the last ten minutes than three child psychologists did in two years.” He paused. “Or than I have, since her mama died.”

Hannah remembered her silent prayer, asking God to let her help this little girl. He’d undoubtedly granted her request. “Maybe because I’m meant to help her? God has His plans, you know.”

That made him smile, and Hannah couldn’t deny the impact that his smile had on her heart.

“Just now, when she told me that she loved me …” He inhaled, let it out, and seemed too overwhelmed to finish.

“She hasn’t told you that she loves you,” Hannah said, “in two years?”

He shook his head, looked as though he wanted to say more, but remained silent.

“Bless your heart,” Hannah whispered.

He stepped closer. “I know this will sound a little odd, but I think maybe you’re right. Maybe the reason I picked this town, the reason Autumn and I are here, is because of you.”

Hannah’s mind reeled with the statement. What was she supposed to do now? What was she supposed to say?

Thankfully, his laughter broke through her dilemma. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that made you feel. It’s just that I’ve been hoping, praying for a breakthrough for so long, and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, here you are, and Autumn speaks. And smiles. It’s … Well, I’d have to say it’s an answered prayer. And in all honesty, I haven’t prayed a lot in the past two years. Didn’t really have a reason to trust in the power of it anymore.”

Hannah found herself relaxing again. This was something she could relate to, because of her own father. “But now?” she asked, still wondering what role God planned for her to have in his daughter’s life. And, maybe, in this man’s life?

“Now I’m thinking I may need to send up a prayer of thanks,” he said, grinning.

A rush of elation filled Hannah, and she was shocked with the undeniable excitement of the request God had granted. Autumn had been silent for two years. She’d been sad and quiet, and Hannah had no doubt that her unhappiness had caused Matt Graham to be unhappy, too. But today she’d smiled.

And so did he.

Hannah made a conscious decision to try to make both of them smile again. If God had given her this gift, then she intended to use it to her fullest ability.

Mr. Feazell yanked open the navy curtain barrier and entered the display area with Autumn by his side. She walked directly to Hannah and handed her a small three-tiered fountain.

“Here,” she said, grinning with obvious enthusiasm that they’d found the perfect fountain. And it did look exactly like the one that centered two large oak trees in the town square.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, then she motioned to the square gray area in the center of the display. “Can you place it in the middle there? Then you can put the geese around it, like they are in the square.”

“Okay.” Autumn concentrated on putting the fountain in the right spot, while Mr. Feazell moved between Hannah and Matt.

“Well, that’s good,” he said softly, watching Autumn situate the geese around the tiny fountain.

“The fountain?” Hannah asked.

“No, her talking,” he said. “She never said a word while we were back there searching through all of that stuff, and I wasn’t sure she could hear me there for a second. Glad she’s okay.” The bell sounded on the front door. “Hey, more customers,” he said excitedly then darted back through the curtain.

Hannah watched Matt Graham’s eyes soften toward his daughter before he looked back at Hannah. “She’s only talking around you,” he mouthed, and Hannah feared he was right.

Now she understood that God had done more than merely grant her request. He’d given her a challenge, and she nodded, determined not to let Him—or Matt Graham—down.

“Autumn, I have a lot to do if I’m going to finish this display before the First Friday celebration next week,” Hannah said. “Do you think you could come here each afternoon after school and help me out, if it’s okay with your daddy? I could sure use your help.”

Matt nodded his approval at this suggestion.

“And you can come anytime you want tomorrow,” Hannah added, “since it’s Saturday. I’ll be here most of the day.”

Autumn’s smile claimed her face. “Can I, Daddy? Please?”