Healing Autumn's Heart

“I believe that could be arranged,” he said. “If Ms. Taylor is sure that we won’t be in her way.”

“Hannah. You can call me Hannah, Dr. Graham.”

“I’d like that,” he said, “but only if you call me Matt.”

“Okay,” she said, unable to hold back a grin. “Matt. And no, you won’t be in my way at all.”

“Then I’d love to bring Autumn to help.”

Autumn stood and wrapped her arms around his legs. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He scooped her up and held her close, kissed the side of her head and looked directly at Hannah. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes said it all. Dr. Graham—Matt—was getting his little girl back, because of Hannah. And because God had granted her request, an opportunity to help Autumn. “Thank you, Hannah,” he said. “You have no idea how much this means to her, and to me.”

Hannah’s heart hummed with excitement as the two left the display area. She looked at the new world she’d created with the array of dollhouses and thought about Autumn’s world, and how it’d become a little bit brighter today after her visit to the toy store. After her visit with Hannah. Hannah had made her smile. And she’d made Matt Graham, the handsome doctor, loving daddy and undeniably intriguing man smile, too.

Thank you, God.

Chapter Two

“It just doesn’t seem right, that they’d make you wait through the weekend. I never understood that. Those doctors did it that way with your mother, and I told them back then how frustrating it was, but they still did it, and now they’re doing it again with Jana and with you. I guess they do it to everybody. But it isn’t right to leave people hanging like that.” Bo Taylor sat on the cushioned visitor bench in the display area while Hannah gathered the craft paints she’d need for the next dollhouse, the town square’s candy shop.

“Daddy, sometimes it takes several days for the labs to complete the test results. And if my appointment is near the weekend, they can’t help it that the testing isn’t done before the end of their workweek. I’m sure the doctor will call Monday or Tuesday.” She eyed the candy store dollhouse then glanced out the toy store’s window to see the real Sweet Stop Candy Shop across the square. Her replica still needed an awning, patio tables outside and candy displays inside, but she should get all of that taken care of today with Autumn and Matt Graham’s help. Hannah couldn’t wait for them to arrive. She’d been looking forward to seeing the little girl all morning. And truthfully, she also looked forward to seeing Matt Graham. In fact, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the handsome doctor since he left yesterday.

“Hannah? Did you hear me?” Her father gave her a frown and lifted one dark brow, a look that said he’d been waiting for her response, and of course, she’d been so absorbed in thinking about Matt and Autumn Graham that she hadn’t heard the question.

“What did you say, Daddy?”

“I said I simply can’t stop worrying about you and your sister, and these doctors don’t make it any better by making us wait when you get those tests done every three months.”

“Well, after this set of screenings, I’ll have been a year in remission,” Hannah happily reminded, “then I’ll only get tested every six months, so you won’t have to worry so often. And Jana only gets hers done annually now. If I keep getting clear results, I’ll eventually move to that category, too.” She grinned. “Hey, maybe then we can set up our tests on the same day, and you’ll only have to worry once a year.” She laughed.

He didn’t. “You just wait until you have kids one day. You’ll see how easy it is not to worry,” he said, pointing a finger at her and squinting one eye to punctuate the statement. “You’ll see, when you have kids.”

Hannah instantly remembered Autumn’s hand against her cheek and recalled the warmth that spread through her at that sweet child’s touch. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, kids make it worth the worry. And we’ll have another little one soon, won’t we? With Jana’s baby, I mean. I was so worried when she told us she was having a baby, but I admit I can’t wait for that little girl to get here. Thank goodness her pregnancy has gone well … so far.”

Hannah put down the paints, turned toward him and rested a hand on his knee. Her mother, Dee, had been the worrier in the family. After she passed away, Bo Taylor had taken over the role. “Daddy, Jana’s baby will be here any day. The doctor says that little Dee is healthy and that Jana is doing great, so there’s nothing to worry about there either.”

“I know,” he said, looking a little guilty for always being so troubled, “but I’ll breathe a little easier when that little angel is here, safe and sound.”

Hannah hated it that her father had such a hard time finding peace of mind. It would be so much easier if he’d somehow find a little of the faith he’d lost when her mother died. Hannah thought of Matt Graham and his words from yesterday.

“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.”

She’d understood what he meant, because she’d watched it firsthand with her father. If he’d turn his worries over to God, he’d be a lot happier, a lot calmer. She’d tried time and time again over the past twelve years to get him back in church, to help him find a relationship with God again. That was what he needed more than anything, and Hannah wasn’t ready to stop trying to help him yet.

“Daddy, why don’t you come to church tomorrow? We’re having the annual fall fellowship on the grounds after the morning service.” She squeezed his knee. “It’d be good for you.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know, Hannah.”

“Think about it,” she said, “for me, and for Jana and the new baby. You know we’ll all be attending church every week, me, Jana, Mitch and baby Dee. You know you’ll want to sit beside all of us on the pew every Sunday.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half grin. “You aren’t ever going to give up on getting me there, are you?”

“Don’t plan on it.”

The other side of his mouth joined in and he gave her a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Hannah turned toward the candy store dollhouse, picked up the red-and-white-striped awning she’d found for the entrance and ran a bead of craft glue along the top. Then she placed it above the shop’s entrance and held it to bond. She glanced at her father and saw that he’d leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and set his mouth in a tight, firm line. She assumed he was trying to decide what to do about church. Hannah thought he’d come close to returning to God a few times over the past decade, but something always held him back. Maybe a new baby in the family and thoughts of the future would prompt him to return.

God, help him come back to church. Help him come back to You.

She reached for a paintbrush to put the store’s name on the redbrick building and then heard her father’s deep sigh. Placing the brush back in the glass cup, she sat back on her knees to look at him.

He was forty-nine now, his hair still dark for the most part, with a patch of silver at each temple and a bit sprinkled above his ears. His build was that of a man who jogged daily, because that was one of his rituals since Hannah’s mother had passed, running several miles each morning to relieve the stress. He had a healthy tan and was dressed neatly in a pale blue button-down shirt, jeans and the same style of light tan work boots that he’d worn as long as she could remember.

By all appearances, her father was a nice-looking man with Richard Gere appeal who should be enjoying life to the fullest. Except for the fact that he’d become a widower at thirty-seven and had to raise two daughters that were merely thirteen and fifteen at the time, and who both eventually ended up with the very disease that had taken his wife.

When he opened his eyes, their dark depths showed the sadness of those final facts and the reasons that he didn’t enjoy life anymore, the reasons that he didn’t trust in faith, or love, or for that matter, God, anymore.

“I want you back at church tomorrow, Daddy,” she said. “It’d mean a lot to me, and I think it’d do a world of good for you, too.” She waited, and when he didn’t speak, she whispered, “Say yes, Daddy. Please.”

He looked at her, but remained silent.

“Okay then, say maybe.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

The bell on the door sounded, and Mr. Feazell called out a greeting to the incoming customers. “Well, hello, Dr. Graham. How are all of you doing today?” The store owner proceeded to announce that his new puppets had arrived that morning, and then Hannah heard him direct them to the back of the store, where he’d set up a small stage for children to practice with the marionettes. Mr. Feazell had been eager to get every child’s opinion on the new setup.

Her pulse skittered. She’d been looking forward to this all day and wanted her father to realize that Autumn and Matt Graham were special. “Daddy, there’s a little girl I’m trying to help,” she whispered, hoping her voice wouldn’t carry far beyond the curtain barrier between the display and the store. “I just heard her arrive, and I’d like for you to meet her and her father. Her name is Autumn, and her father is Matt Graham, the new doctor in town.” She paused, not wanting to make her father uncomfortable but wanting him to understand how important this was and how much she wanted to help Autumn. “Daddy, she lost her mother to breast cancer two years ago.”

“How old is she?” he asked, keeping his deep voice low as well, undoubtedly realizing that Hannah didn’t want this conversation overheard by the newcomers to the toy store.

“I believe she’s five or six. She’s in school, probably kindergarten or first grade. Anyway, her father brought her in yesterday, and she spoke to me, connected with me.” Hannah watched him nod as though he totally understood, but she knew he couldn’t until she told him the rest. “And then he told me that she hadn’t spoken more than a word or two at a time since her mother died.”

Bo Taylor frowned. “That’s terrible.”

“But she did yesterday, for me. She talked to me, smiled for me. I—” Hannah tried to form the right words to explain it “—I felt a connection between me and that little girl, Daddy. She needs someone who understands what she is going through. She needs me to help her cope with losing her mom.” Hannah leaned forward so she could peek through the tiny crack in the display area’s curtain and saw that Matt, Autumn and an older woman were all still listening to Mr. Feazell describe the elaborate puppet area. When she was certain they couldn’t hear their conversation, she dropped the curtain back in place.

“Five or six,” her father said. “And already lost her mom.” He sighed wearily.

“She said that I’m like her mommy. I don’t know if it’s because she saw my breast cancer pin, or maybe because my hair is shorter, or what. But because she sees me as someone ‘like her mommy,’ she’s willing to open up to me. Daddy, it touched my heart so much, I can’t even explain it. I’ve been thinking about her all day.” Hannah didn’t add that she’d also been thinking about Matt Graham all day. Or the fact that he fell into the same category as her father, losing a wife to breast cancer and being left to raise a child, even if Matt only had one to raise and her father had been left with two.

However, looking at her father’s face now, Hannah suspected that her dad also put the similarities together and could literally feel the little girl’s pain … and, of course, Matt Graham’s pain.

“Daddy, I really think I can help her. I think I’m meant to.”