Healing Autumn's Heart. Renee Andrews

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      The little girl pointed at Hannah and said something to her father, who seemed genuinely mesmerized by his daughter. He was totally absorbed by her every word, as though there was nothing more important in the world than what she had to say.

      Hannah’s heart tugged at the scene. She crooked her finger and motioned for them to come inside and see the display, not only because she wanted the little girl to have a better view, but also because she wanted to get a firsthand look at the closeness these two shared.

      A pang shot to Hannah’s heart as they made their way around the side of the window and through the toy store’s front door. When Hannah was about that little girl’s age, she had spent afternoons at the square with her father. Daddy-daughter days, that’s what he’d called it back then. She’d also had her mommy-and-me days with her mom, and then the entire family would have family fun days, which included Hannah’s older sister Jana. Daddy-daughter, mommy-and-me and family fun days had consumed Hannah’s existence as a child.

      When she was thirteen all of that changed, and their family had never been the same.

      She blinked a couple of times, sniffed back the emotion that occasionally pressed its way to the surface with old memories, and found another smile for them as they passed through the curtain separating the display window from the rest of the store.

      “Hi,” Hannah said, primarily to the little girl, since she was still on her knees and the girl was eye level. “What’s your name?”

      She was even prettier than Hannah had realized, her dark eyes framed with a bounty of even darker lashes and her skin as smooth as the porcelain dolls in the toy store’s wooden curios.

      She gave Hannah a shy smile then stepped forward. “I’m Autumn.”

      Hannah heard her father’s deep inhalation and glanced up to see the man staring at the two of them. His face was filled with something close to awe, and Hannah wondered why he was so affected by her interaction with his little girl. Evidently he realized that Hannah noticed his reaction and that her attention was now on him.

      “I’m Matt Graham,” he said, and a light chuckle found its way into his words. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m just—” he visibly swallowed “—very happy right now.” He cleared his throat, shook his head then ran a hand through black wavy hair. “I’m sure that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but Autumn hasn’t smiled—” another clearing of his throat “—hasn’t been this happy in quite a while, and I can’t tell you what this means.”

      Matt Graham. She’d heard the name recently, but couldn’t place it. However, it wasn’t his name that held her interest. It was his statement. His little girl—Autumn—hadn’t been happy in quite a while. She seemed happy now, beaming at Hannah.

      “Well, Autumn, do you like the dollhouses?” Hannah asked.

      The little girl opened her mouth, then closed it and smiled again. And Hannah realized that she’d barely noticed the dollhouses since entering the display area. Instead, she seemed more interested in … Hannah.

      Hannah glanced up at Autumn’s father and found herself drawn to the easy smile he had for his daughter, to the sky-blue eyes bordered with thick black lashes, and to the fact that those eyes glistened with emotion for his little girl. He was a striking man, not only in appearance but in the unharnessed emotion that seemed to shine from his very soul.

      She silently told herself to get a grip. He was this little girl’s father, a lady’s husband, and Hannah had no right to notice his eyes, or his smile, or the way that his love for his little girl made her own heart flutter. One day, she’d have a husband and a child, and her husband would look at their son or daughter that way, the way he looked at his daughter now.

      “Autumn? Do you like the dollhouses?” he asked, in an obvious effort to get her to respond to Hannah’s question.

      “Yes,” she whispered, but again, she didn’t look at the houses. And her next words didn’t have anything to do with them at all. “You’re like Mommy.” Her dark eyes grew wider, and she moved closer to Hannah. Then she reached out and gently, with a feather-soft touch, as though she didn’t know whether Hannah was real, pressed small fingers against Hannah’s cheek. “You’re like her.”

      Hannah didn’t move, didn’t breathe. The child was so embraced in the moment that she didn’t dare break the connection.

      Then Autumn’s mouth quivered, and she blinked. “I miss her. I miss her every day.”

      Hannah looked up to the man who stood grounded to the spot and whose eyes were definitely wet now. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. And Hannah didn’t need him to. She’d been around that look of sadness enough to know. Autumn, this precious little girl with eyes that appeared as though they’d seen a lifetime worth of sorrow, had already lost her mother.

      Hannah fought for composure and attempted to keep her own feelings at bay, since her mind immediately catapulted to that day twelve years ago when she told her own mother goodbye for the last time. This little girl was so young. Hannah had been thirteen and still struggled each day to understand why her mother was gone. Autumn appeared to be five or six, about the same age as the children Hannah taught in her class at church.

       God, please help her. And help me to help her. I know how much it hurts to lose a mom.

      Autumn’s palm was still on Hannah’s cheek when Mr. Feazell drew back the curtain and announced, “Hannah, guess what? I found some!”

      The little girl dropped her hand, and Hannah took a deep breath, the intense moment broken.

      “Oh, hi,” Mr. Feazell said to the pair. “I didn’t hear the bell, didn’t realize we had people checking out the display. How do you like it?”

      Matt Graham nodded to the toy store owner, but only took his eyes away from Hannah and Autumn for the slightest second before looking back at them and answering, “It’s amazing.”

      Hannah had no doubt that he wasn’t talking about the dollhouse display.

      “I know,” Mr. Feazell said, completely unaware of the dual conversation taking place. “Hannah ran the idea by me, and I thought it’d be good, but I had no idea …” He shook his head. “It’s uncanny how much it looks like the real square, isn’t it? Hannah has a knack at really touching the heart of things, don’t you think?”

      “Definitely,” Matt Graham answered.

      Again, Hannah knew for certain that he wasn’t talking about the dollhouses. And she had touched the heart of something here, but she didn’t quite know what. All she knew was that this little girl had been sad, but now she seemed happy.

      And as a result, so did the compelling man standing before her.

      “Well, Hannah, I finally found these. They’ll make it even more authentic for sure.” Mr. Feazell stretched out his hand to display a palm filled with tiny geese.

      Hoping to ease the tension in the room, Hannah gave Autumn a soft smile, then reached for the gaggle of geese in Mr. Feazell’s hand. “They look perfect.”

      “I thought they’d be a nice touch since, СКАЧАТЬ