The Forever Family. Leigh Bale

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СКАЧАТЬ Rachel Walker dredged this up in his mind. The longing. The regrets.

      He yearned for someone to shower his love upon. Someone all his own who loved him in return. No matter how full his life got, he’d never get used to the emptiness in his heart.

      Or the loneliness.

      Chapter Three

      Rachel awoke to the smell of bacon frying. She opened her eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight filtering through the lacey curtains in Gladys’s living room. The snow had stopped.

      Turning her head, Rachel saw Danny and another boy she assumed was Charlie sitting together in the recliner next to the Hide-A-Bed. The boys giggled, their legs dangling over the seat as they stared at her.

      “See? I told you she’d wake up soon,” Danny told the other boy.

      She smiled, unable to resist the merry twinkle in Charlie’s eyes. “Good morning, boys. How are you?”

      “Fine,” Danny responded.

      “You slept in.” Charlie’s freckled nose crinkled.

      Rachel stretched, finding her body stiff and sore from the accident. Thinking about her crumpled car made her groan. “What time is it?”

      Charlie shrugged, raking his short fingers through the unruly mop of red hair falling over his brow. “I don’t know.”

      Danny glanced at the cartoon character watch Alex gave him for his sixth birthday. “Almost eleven o’clock.”

      Wow! She had slept in, but they’d gone to bed so late.

      “Good morning! Are you hungry?” Gladys called from the doorway of the kitchen. She wore her long chestnut hair curled and loose around her shoulders. Dressed in a red checkered apron, she clutched a plastic spatula in one hand.

      Rachel sat up and slid her bare feet to the hardwood floor. Still dressed in the nightgown and bathrobe Gladys gave her the night before, she barely felt the cold in the snug house. “I am hungry, actually.”

      “I laid out clean towels in the bathroom. Sam brought your bags in before he left.” Gladys pointed the spatula to where Rachel and Danny’s blue suitcases sat near the Hide-A-Bed.

      “Where did he go?”

      “He drove out to his place early this morning, to feed and water his livestock.”

      “He was able to drive through the snow to Finnegan’s Valley?”

      Maybe he’d give her and Danny a ride out to Grammy’s place. She hated to impose, but she had few options.

      “Sure! A country doctor knows how to get around any impediment. His truck has 4-wheel drive with a plow blade attached to the front fender. If he gets stuck, there’s a snowmobile and an extra can of gasoline in the back.”

      Hmm, impressive. Rachel stood and hugged Danny, breathing in his warm, sweet skin. She gave silent thanks they were safe. When she thought of what could have happened last night, she almost shuddered.

      She didn’t recognize Danny’s pajamas and thought he must have borrowed them from Charlie. Both boys wore animal slippers, Charlie’s brown with floppy-eared dogs on the insteps, Danny’s yellow with ducks that squeaked when he walked. She reached to tickle the boys’ ribs with her good hand. Both of them squealed and scrambled away.

      Charlie raced to the television set and flipped it on. “Hooray! Now your mom’s awake, we can watch cartoons.”

      Both boys plopped down on a love seat and shared a red afghan for warmth. Charlie worked the remote control, flipping through channels.

      Rachel watched her son, who seemed to accept their predicament quite well. In spite of the accident, it lightened her heart to see him so happy.

      “While I finish making breakfast, why don’t you get ready? Sam should be back any time now,” Gladys told Rachel.

      This information prompted Rachel into action. Running a hand over the blue bathrobe, she realized she didn’t want Dr. Thorne to see her like this. Why she cared about a stranger’s opinion, she refused to contemplate. Instead, she hurried to get ready.

      Forty minutes later, she emerged from the steaming bathroom dressed in practical blue jeans and a warm sweater, her hair curled and her makeup in place. As she walked into the living room, she saw the Hide-A-Bed had been put away and Gladys had folded the quilts Rachel used the night before. Danny and Charlie now sat at the kitchen table wolfing down pancakes and eggs.

      “I know it’s several days away, but why don’t you and Danny share Sunday dinner with us?” Gladys said.

      “Oh, we couldn’t impose.”

      “Nonsense. You’ll need time to get settled. I always fix Sunday dinner over at Sam’s place. He has a huge kitchen.” Gladys stowed the pile of sheets and blankets in a hall closet.

      Rachel hesitated. She didn’t feel up to cooking much right now. But she wasn’t certain what she thought of having dinner at the doctor’s home.

      “Stop worrying.” Gladys squeezed Rachel’s good arm. “You can invite us over to your house later. Now, come have something to eat. You must be starved.”

      Rachel followed Gladys into the cozy kitchen. She sat at the table, feeling lazy and confused by Gladys’s generosity.

      “We’ve already blessed the food, so dig in,” Gladys said.

      “Sam says our car got totaled in the crash.” Danny spoke with both cheeks bulging.

      “Don’t talk with your mouth full, son.” Rachel wished he hadn’t reminded her of their ruined car.

      “Yes, I saw it. What’ll you do for transportation?” Gladys stood at the stove, stirring scrambled eggs.

      Rachel looked down at her plate, noticing the small blue corn flowers swirling around the outer edge. The Lord would provide for them. She had to trust in Him. “I’m not sure.”

      “How are you fixed for money?”

      Wow! Gladys was certainly blunt.

      “We’ll get by.”

      “We’re looking for a receptionist over at the clinic. Do you need a job?” Gladys sat down with her own plate of food.

      “I, uh, yes I do.”

      But at a veterinarian clinic? She squeezed her left forearm, touching the scars beneath the fabric of her sweater. She swallowed, hating to admit dogs scared her to death. Ever since she was eleven years old and a dog belonging to a neighbor had attacked her. She figured goldfish were harmless enough.

      “Can you type?” Gladys asked.

      “Absolutely!” No more than forty words per minute, but she’d taken some evening classes at the community college in Rochester. She wasn’t fast, but she knew word processing and spreadsheet programs. How hard could it be?

      “Sam СКАЧАТЬ