Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ the heavy oak banged shut behind him, Clarissa heaved a sigh of relief mingled with regret. He was so handsome!

      “Okay, God. I get the message. You’re in control. You’ll decide when and if I should get married, let alone be a mother.” She closed and locked the fine drawer, which never held more than three dollars anyway, placed her pen in the holder and pushed her chair neatly behind the big desk.

      “It’s in Your hands,” she acquiesced with a sigh. “But I’m not getting any younger. I hope You keep in mind that I’m no spring chicken, and I would like to enjoy my kids while I’m still young enough to keep up with them. If I get kids, that is.”

      Since there was no audible reply, or any other sign from above, Clarissa picked up the sweater she’d worn this morning, grabbed her handbag and her empty lunch sack and walked out of the musty building. It took only a second to lock the solid worn door.

      Clarissa trod down the steps carefully, grateful for the fresh late-afternoon breeze that still blew. She needed a little air after her first day back at work.

      A busy little town that drew on the agricultural industry surrounding it, Waseka hummed with early springtime activity. The place was so small that everybody knew everybody else, and their business. Which was part of Clarissa’s problem, but also part of the reason she loved it here.

      It meant that they all knew how Harrison Harder had abandoned her the day before her wedding, to marry that city upstart who’d only been back in town for three weeks and claimed to be Clarissa’s best friend. Today the reminder of his defection only made her smile.

      Harrison Harder! The same man who’d trailed after her since seventh grade, defended her from Tommy Cummings when she hadn’t needed his help, and vowed that he’d never love anyone else.

      Clarissa had smiled her way through those awful days, too. The nights she spent weeping for a precious dream that had died. It was then that she’d realized that Harrison had only been the means to an end. Now she wasn’t sure she’d ever really loved him, not the way a wife needed to love her husband. He’d been her way of getting the family she craved, of avoiding having to move in with one of the great-aunts just for company.

      Her minister had tried to counsel her, to tell her that sometimes God sent roadblocks so people could see they were going down the wrong path. He was staunch in his belief that God had something much better in store for her. Clarissa tried to accept that, but with every day that passed, all she felt was more empty, more alone, more of an outsider in a town where everyone had someone.

      That solitary feeling magnified when Gran died three years ago and Clarissa was left with a big, old house, and a hole in her heart. Who would she love now? Would she never have the family she’d longed for ever since her parents had died?

      But all that was years ago. Clarissa didn’t have any tears left for Harrison. Instead, she stubbornly clung to her dream. A family, a big, happy family where she showered all the devotion she wanted on people who would reciprocate with enough to fill her needy heart.

      She ached for her own circle of love, especially now, after that wedding in Hawaii where honeymoon couples abounded. In fact, the surfeit of amorous couples found at those weddings was a perfectly good reason for avoiding the next one!

      “Hi, Clarissa. Noticed you met our newest resident.” Millie Perkins giggled, her broad face wreathed in smiles. “Now there’s a fine specimen of a man. He’d make a good husband for you. And is he handsome!”

      “You mean Wade Featherhawk? Yes, I met him.” Clarissa blushed, recalling that prayer. “I don’t think he’s interested in me, Millie.” Belatedly she remembered he was married.

      “Nonsense! Of course he’s interested. Just doesn’t want to seem too eager is all. A man in his condition needs a good woman.” Millie thumped her purse as if that settled the matter.

      In his condition? Clarissa’s radar went on high alert. She didn’t want to fix anyone else’s problems. She’d had enough of that with Billy Stuart and Lester Short, two men she’d once agreed to date. She still regretted those hastily made encounters.

      “He said he was looking for a book for his son.” Clarissa half-whispered it, wondering how long it would take the older woman to spill the beans she was obviously so anxious to share.

      The day had been long. Clarissa was tired and hungry and she wanted to go home. She wouldn’t tell a soul that what she really wanted was to spend some time thinking about that tall, dark man she’d met this afternoon. Instead, she prepared to hear the local’s lowdown on one Wade Featherhawk.

      “You’ve been away so I’ll fill you in. Came to town the day after you left. Seems Jerry Crane is a friend of his, and Wade put a bid in on that country club Jerry’s building.” Millie stopped just long enough to gulp for air. “Jerry announced the winners last week, and first thing you know we have a new resident.” She nodded smugly, as if she’d done her share of arranging that.

      “So he’s a carpenter. That’s nice.” Clarissa pushed away the thought of those big, rough hands.

      “Apparently a good one, too. Or so Jerry says.” Millie huffed once more and continued. “He didn’t come alone. No, sir. He’s got a passel of kids. Not his, though. And no wife. Myrna Mahoney over at Sally’s Café told me that. The bunch of ’em were living at the motel for a while. Must have been terrible expensive. Heard they moved. She couldn’t find out where. He doesn’t talk much. The strong, silent type.”

      Millie hitched up her purse, adjusted the snug skirt surrounding her burgeoning hips and shoved her hat farther down on her freshly permed hair. “I’ve gotta go, hon. Burt doesn’t like for me to be away too long when they’re seeding.”

      “Yes, of course. Bye, Millie.” Clarissa, embarrassed to find herself so interested in a perfect stranger, waved politely and started toward home once more, quickly jaywalking across to the fire hall to avoid Betty Fields, whom she saw waiting on the next corner.

      She opened the white picket gate that led to her yard and stepped inside, appreciating the lovely old house as she went.

      “It needs a coat of paint and some work on the roof, but it’s still a great house,” she assured herself. “A perfect house for a family. With a little work.”

      Dinner didn’t take long. She’d set out her pork chop to thaw that morning. As she waited for her potato to boil, she wished again for a microwave. Better yet, a family to cook for! Making food for one was so boring. Baking one potato in the oven meant heating up the whole house, and it seemed foolish to do that with electricity so high. As she pulled a bottle of blue cheese dressing out of the fridge, she caught sight of the chocolate Valentine she’d given herself.

      “Should have thrown that out.” Instead, she closed the door on it, just as she’d shut down her hopes and dreams. There was no point wishing for something that was never going to happen.

      Since it was still light outside after her meal and the silence inside the house was somehow depressing, Clarissa decided to finish working her flower bed. She’d always been one of the first to have pansies and petunias blooming. This year wouldn’t be any different.

      It is a silly dream, she lectured herself, kneeling to insert the delicate bedding plants. Lots of people would say I’m too old to keep daydreaming about kids. Even if I had a husband who wanted them. Which I don’t.

      She sighed at the hopelessness of it all СКАЧАТЬ