“Give it time, Mark.

“You’ll soon have your life back in order,” Alice said in reassurance.

She laid a hand on his arm, and he covered it with his.

She was standing closer to Mark than she should be, Alice realized, and she tried to remove her hand and move away. But Mark held her with a firm grip.

“For the first time in months,” he said softly, “I actually believe that. When you came to us, I felt as if a burden had been lifted off my shoulders. I can’t understand it. You walk into our house, and suddenly I’m confident that all my troubles are over. Why is that, Alice?”

“I don’t know, Mark,” she whispered. “But I’m glad it’s so. Because it feels right for me to be here….”

IRENE BRAND

This prolific and popular author of both contemporary and historical inspirational fiction is a native of West Virginia, where she has lived all her life. She began writing professionally in 1977, after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself full-time to her writing.

In 1984, after she had enjoyed a long career of publishing articles and devotional materials, her first novel was published by Thomas Nelson. Since that time, Irene has published twenty-one contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles with publishers such as Zondervan, Fleming Revell and Barbour Books.

Her extensive travels with her husband, Rod, to forty-nine of the United States and thirty-two foreign countries, have inspired much of her writing. Through her writing, Irene believes she has been helpful to others, and she is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her truly inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters of strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187.

Tender Love
Irene Brand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me….

Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

—Psalms 139:1, 7

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

The Tanner home stood in sharp contrast to the other dwellings along the suburban Richmond street. Other lawns were neat and the houses in good repair, but the wooden trim and the front door at the Tanners’ needed a paint job. Draperies at the picture window sagged haphazardly. The shrubbery obviously hadn’t been trimmed last season. Blooming red and white geraniums peeked forlornly over the weeds that had taken over the brick planter along the curving sidewalk.

Alice Larkin drove by the two-story brick house three times before she had the nerve to stop. Betty was right, Alice thought. This family does need help. It was amazing that a short visit to her friend in Richmond would offer an unexpected opportunity to be of service.

Alice questioned just how far she should go to help out a family in need. For a moment she was tempted to drive on, return to her well-ordered life and forget she’d ever heard about Mark Tanner and his family. Instead, she turned her van into the driveway and breathed a prayer before she turned off the ignition.

“God, I’ve never felt Your leading so strongly in any phase of my life. If it’s Your will that brought me to this point, I pray for direction because I don’t have any idea what I’m facing.”

Her friend, Betty St. Claire, director of a local nanny agency, had set up the interview for Saturday morning when all of the Tanners would be at home. When she rang the doorbell, Alice wondered which family member would answer her ring. The door was opened by a slender girl, dressed in a blue sweat outfit. The girl’s dark hair accentuated her pale skin and blue eyes.

Eight-year-old Kristin. Betty had described her as a shy, soft-spoken girl.

Kristin observed Alice with anxious eyes.

“I’m Alice Larkin. I have an appointment to see Mr. Tanner.”

The girl unlatched the storm door. “Come in,” she said softly. “He’s waiting for you.”

Kristin beckoned to Alice, and she followed the girl down a short hallway until she paused at an open door.

“The lady’s here, Daddy.”

Alice walked into the untidy office just as a man, dressed casually in jeans and a blue sweater, rose from behind a littered desk and came toward her with outstretched hand. Kristin turned quickly and entered a room adjacent to the office.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Larkin, that I wasn’t at the door to meet you,” he said and pressed her hand with a firm grip. He motioned toward the desk. “I’ve been doing book work this morning and time got away from me. I’m Mark Tanner. Please have a seat.”

Alice sat down, gladly. Betty’s brief physical description hadn’t prepared her for Mark Tanner. Betty had said he was a forty-year-old widower, but she hadn’t said that he had thick, wavy hair as black as a crow’s feathers, neatly trimmed to his nape. Nor had she mentioned that his eyes were as blue as a cloudless cerulean sky on a crisp October afternoon. Gray streaks of hair glistened above his ears, and his smooth, fair skin was marred only by a deep dimple on his right cheek. The only flaw Alice found in Mark’s appearance was that he was much too thin for such a tall man.

“Did Betty explain our family situation?” Mark asked in a deep and pleasant voice.

“Just the basics—she didn’t give me many details,” Alice said somewhat breathlessly, wishing for a few moments to recover from the shattering blow her heart had suffered. What was there about this man that affected her so strongly? If she came to work here, she couldn’t have her emotions stirred this way.

“My wife, Clarice, died six months ago, leaving me with two children. You met Kristin just now, and Eddie, my five-year-old, is a sickly child. I need someone to care for them while I work. I’ve tried two daytime nannies, but it hasn’t been satisfactory. I’m sometimes late getting home, and often the nanny would be gone several hours, leaving the children without any supervision. Although we’re crowded for space, I asked Betty to recommend a live-in nanny.”

“Don’t you have an older woman living here?”

“Yes—my wife’s grandmother, Gran Watson. Clarice was her nearest relative, and she came to live with us three years ago after she had a stroke that partially paralyzed her. The children need more supervision than she’s able to provide.”

While Mark gave a few more details about his family, Alice recalled what Betty had said about his affairs.

“Mark Tanner,” Betty had said, “has had enough trouble to ruin any man. His son was born with a congenital heart defect, that required a series of expensive operations. Over two years ago, his wife was diagnosed with uterine cancer, and she died in December after a downhill battle all the way. He’s a brilliant man and served as pastor of our church for ten years, but he resigned about a year ago because he couldn’t fulfill his obligations to the church while he looked after his children and nursed his wife. He’d built up a good retirement fund in our church organization, and when he resigned, he withdrew the capital to take care of his living expenses. By the time Clarice died, he was on the verge of financial ruin—he still owed on his son’s medical bills, Clarice’s health needs had been expensive, and when he tried to pay those bills, his other obligations fell behind. After her death, he went to work in a bank, and so far he’s kept his home, but I’ve heard he may lose it. You might be his last hope.”

“That’s preposterous. I’m not a magician. How could I make such a difference?”

“You can take care of his children and make a home for him. If he doesn’t have to worry about the daily care of his children, he can devote more time to his work.”

No wonder he looks tired, Alice thought, but she wished that Betty hadn’t placed such a guilt trip on her. If she didn’t come to work for him, and Mark lost his long fight to remain solvent, would she always blame herself? But her reaction to Mark’s magnetic personality was an immediate red flag, for she was sure a good nanny shouldn’t be personally involved with any member of the household.

“Perhaps you should tell me about yourself, Mrs. Larkin,” Mark said, with a smile that caused her heart to move in a way she hadn’t experienced before. “Where is your home? Do you live in Richmond?”

“No, I’ve lived in Alexandria since my marriage ten years ago. I’m a native Virginian—I was born in Spotsylvania County.”

He smiled again, and the dimple deepened. “I guessed that from your soft accent. How much experience have you had as a nanny?”

Alice laughed lightly. “None! Although I haven’t worked as a nanny, I’m not a novice where children are concerned. I taught for three years in a kindergarten before I married. And prior to his death, I spent several years caring for my ailing husband, so I know quite a lot about children and illness, which seem to be the qualities you need in a nanny.”

“How long have you been a widow?”

“My husband died over a year ago as the result of a rare liver ailment. I’ve thought of teaching again, but while I was here in Richmond visiting Betty, whom I’ve known since my college days, she suggested that I might enjoy being a nanny.”

Actually, Betty’s appraisal had been a bit more blunt.

“You’ll go nuts if you don’t get out of that house and start living. Even if you do have all the money you’ll ever need, you should go to work. John Larkin was a fine man, and although I still can’t imagine why you married a man so much older than you, you’ve done all you can do for him. You need a life of your own.”

“And what do you have in mind?” Alice had answered, with only a hint of pique. She had learned long ago that Betty’s blunt manner hid a heart filled with concern for others.

“I have a client who needs immediate help,” Betty said, “and I’ve checked all my applicants without finding the right person. Let me tell you about Mark Tanner,” Betty said, and her comments had spawned Alice’s interest in the Tanners.

Mark smiled encouragingly, and Alice continued, “Perhaps you should tell me what you expect from a nanny.”

“I suppose it boils down to the fact that I just need a housekeeper.” He waved his hand around the room. “The whole house is a mess, mostly because there’s no organization.” He threaded his thick hair with long, shapely fingers. “There’s no way I can work full-time, be a parent, and take care of this house and property. I’m sure the neighbors are ashamed of the lawn, although they’ve been kind enough not to say so, but I can’t afford to hire a gardener, and I don’t have the time. School closes next week for the summer, and I must have someone to supervise the children. I need so much that I hardly know where to begin. Why don’t you tell me what you’re willing to do?”

Instinctively, Alice wanted to rush to Mark, put her arms around him and tell him that she’d shoulder his whole burden. Careful, Alice! She told herself.

“Mr. Tanner, I believe it’s customary for a nanny to work five days a week and have the weekends free, which might be a satisfactory arrangement for you. Also, Betty says that you and I should agree on my workload, benefits, and salary. Right now, however, I don’t know what any of that should be.”

“I don’t mean to complain because I’ve been in tight spots before and have always managed, but right now, I’m having trouble making ends meet. However, that won’t make any difference in our financial arrangements, for the children are my major priority, and I want to provide the best care possible for them. Betty seems to think that’s you.”

Alice lowered her eyes from his warm gaze and fiddled with the purse in her lap.

“Perhaps I could come to work on a trial basis? I suggest that I come for a month at a nominal salary. I’ll take care of the cooking, housekeeping, and child care. During that time, you can see how I fit in with your family, and I can determine what needs to be done. At the end of the month, we can evaluate the situation—if you’ve found my work satisfactory and I’m contented, then we can talk about contract terms.”

“That sounds like a one-sided agreement, Mrs. Larkin—all in my favor.”

“Perhaps not,” Alice said, with her slow smile. “I may be a lousy cook, for all you know.”

The telephone rang, and Mark answered.

“Kristin, it’s for you,” he called, and Kristin tiptoed in. She took the phone and moved to a corner of the room.

“I suppose the first thing is for you to look over the house and meet the rest of the family,” Mark said.

Kristin put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone.

“Daddy,” she said, “Susie wants to know if I can go to church camp with her next month?”

Mark’s face flushed, and he said, “What would it cost?”

“Seventy-five dollars.”

“Oh, Kristin,” Mark said, “I don’t see how you can.” He motioned to the stack of bills on his desk. “I’ve explained all of this to you. By next year, I’ll be able to provide extras like that, or perhaps you can go to another camp later on in the summer. For now, I’ll have to say no. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” In the phone, she said, “Not this time, Susie. Maybe next year. Bye.”

“You aren’t getting a good opinion of our family,” Mark said, as he stood, and Alice thought his smile came with an effort. “Shall we tour the house?”

The downstairs consisted of the kitchen and dining area, living room, a large family room, Mark’s office, a powder room and an enclosed back porch, seemingly a repository for odds and ends. The family room with its deep chairs, bookshelves, a large table covered with magazines and children’s books, a comfortable couch, and large entertainment center was the most attractive room on the first floor.

Upstairs, were four bedrooms and two baths. Alice was introduced to Gran Watson, an eighty-year-old, who had little use of her left hip and leg. Gran’s voice had been affected by the stroke, and she spoke with a lisp through a partially paralyzed mouth.

Eddie was a scrawny five-year-old, with a colorless face and a weak voice. Dark curls covered his head, and his blue eyes were dull. His room was small, housing a set of bunk beds, a dresser, and a collection of toy automobiles. He lay on the bed watching a television cartoon, showing little interest in his potential nanny. Kristin followed Alice and Mark from room to room, listening intently to everything they said.

When they returned to Mark’s office, he said, “I’ll expect you to take my room, and I’ll move in with Eddie.”

Alice shook her head. “Not at all,” she objected, envisioning Mark’s cramped position in the narrow bunk bed. “You wouldn’t get any rest that way. Why can’t I sleep on the porch? If we move some of those cartons and use that extra bunk bed in Eddie’s room, I can manage all right—at least through the month’s trial period.”

Mark agreed reluctantly.

“Since I expected to be away only a few days when I left Alexandria, I’ll have to return home to get some more clothes and put my affairs in order for an extended stay. Will it be convenient if I start working a week from Monday?”

“Yes, we can manage until then.”

As Alice prepared to leave, she asked, “How much authority will I have over the children and the household? If I have to get your okay every time I need to make a decision, your burden won’t lift at all.”

Mark’s blue eyes looked long and intently into Alice’s brown ones, and she met his gaze unflinchingly. At last, he reached for her hand. “My primary concern is for Kristin and Eddie, and I believe I can trust you with the welfare of my family—that’s all I’m concerned about at this point.”

He squeezed her hand and walked with her to the car.

“If you need to contact me, Betty will know where I am,” Alice said, and waved to him as she backed out of the driveway.

An hour later, sitting in Betty’s office, Alice paced the floor and gave Betty her impression of the Tanners, excluding only her physical attraction to Mark.

“My hands were itching to pull back the draperies, wash the windows and let some light into those rooms. And on a nice day like this, both Kristin and Eddie should have been outdoors, not cooped up in the house. How sick is Eddie, anyway?”

“As I understand, surgery has completely repaired the damage to his heart, and he’s able to resume a normal life. You can find out from his father or pediatrician what he’s able to do. I don’t believe Mark will give you any opposition. He’s the best organized preacher we’ve ever had at our church, and it must frustrate him to see his household in such disorder, but he’s simply in over his head.”

“I suppose that’s the reason I decided to help him.”

“But let me caution you, Alice. I know you, and you’ll want to move in there and expect an overnight miracle. It won’t happen that way. Their home life has been going downhill for two years—you won’t change it in a few days.”

Alice shook her head despairingly. “You’re right, and I’ll try to go slow. But there is something I can do. This morning, a friend telephoned Kristin and invited her to go to church camp. Mark had to refuse because he couldn’t afford it, and I want to provide that money anonymously. Will you handle it for me?”

She reached in her purse and removed seventy-five dollars.

“No problem. I’ll put the money in a blank envelope, mark it for Kristin Tanner’s camp expenses and drop it in the offering plate Sunday. No one will ever need to know.”

Alice paused in her pacing to straighten a picture on the wall. “I’m not completely at ease with this situation, Betty. It’s quite a responsibility, and I’m afraid that I’ll get too involved with the family’s problems. You know I’ve always wanted children of my own. What if I get attached to Eddie and Kristin? It will hurt when I have to leave them.”

“That’s a risk all nannies take, and some of those listed with my agency have been hurt.” Betty observed Alice as she stood looking out the window, and she said compassionately, “But, Alice, why don’t you remarry and have children of your own?”

“I don’t intend to marry another man I don’t love. I couldn’t have found a more considerate, kinder husband than John Larkin, but I didn’t love him, and I haven’t seen any other man I thought I could love.” Mark’s brilliant blue eyes set in his charming face flashed through her mind, and she didn’t look at Betty, fearful that her friend might note the truth in her face.

Betty, a happy wife and proud mother of three, was a noted matchmaker. She took Alice by the shoulders and turned her to face the full-length mirror on the wall behind her desk.

“Look at you,” Betty said, and she enumerated Alice’s features as if she were announcing a beauty contest. “Honey-blond hair, pink-and-white complexion, finely chiseled features, with a smile that always seems to be lurking in steady brown eyes, while also possessing a firmly molded attractive body of above medium height.”

Betty released Alice’s shoulders and perched on the desktop. “You’re wasted as a single person. You must get married again.”

“When I’m ready, I’ll tell you,” Alice said, with a laugh.

Betty’s face became more thoughtful. “Although your chief role at the Tanners is to care for those children, I’m concerned about Mark, too.” She paused and rolled a ballpoint pen back and forth on the desk. “I’ve never known a more effective preacher, and he should be in the ministry—not working in a bank. It was a blow to our congregation when he resigned, and the membership would have taken him back immediately when Clarice died.”

“He didn’t ask for a leave of absence when he left the church?”

“No. He wouldn’t take one when the official board offered it. And while he said he couldn’t come back to the church because he needed a lucrative job to take care of his debts, I’ve wondered if that’s the real reason.”

“Well,” Alice said, “I’ll have to admit when I was so confined with John’s illness and couldn’t see any hope for the future, there were times when my faith faltered. We’ve all been in that position.”

“That’s true, but the doubts eventually fade away. Yet in Mark’s case, I don’t think they have.”

Once back in her own home, Alice’s mind became an emotional pendulum. One moment she’d think, This move is definitely God’s will for my life; then she’d fret, Why can’t I be satisfied with the status quo?

In spite of her doubts, she kept on packing her minivan with clothing and personal items to make her life more pleasant at the Tanners’. As she made arrangements to close her house for a few months, she questioned why she would even consider leaving her comfortable life-style, her spacious three-story brick colonial home, her church friends and her relatives to assume the responsibility of another’s family, to sleep in a bunk bed on a porch, and take on household duties that she paid to have done in her own home.

When she prayed for wisdom, God led her to a verse in the Psalms, “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you.”

That was the only assurance she had that her decision was the right one, for a visit to her parents, Harley and Norma Taylor, who lived in a retirement community in the nation’s capital, wasn’t encouraging. Norma couldn’t understand why her daughter would want to take on a nanny position.

When Alice had inherited all of John’s assets, her parents took it for granted that they were also recipients of his money, and were never hesitant about asking for financial help. They thought that if Alice wanted to take care of children, she should devote her time to her niece and nephew, children of Nancy, Alice’s single-parent sister, who always had financial needs.

Alice took comfort from her prayers and continued packing.

She timed her arrival for Sunday afternoon, and when she reached the street where the Tanners lived, she compared her present sangfroid to her nervousness the week before.

Mark opened the door before she had time to ring the bell. His wavy hair was tousled, there was a black smudge on his face, and he wore an apron over his jeans with a message printed in flashy letters, What’s A Nice Guy Like You Doing In A Dump Like This?

“You did come back,” he said, and the relief expressed in his eyes and on his face reinforced her belief that it was right to be here.

“What made you think I wouldn’t?” she said in her low voice, as he held the door for her.

“I couldn’t blame anyone for hesitating to take on a job like this one,” he said with a slight laugh.

“In my own strength, I wouldn’t have tackled it, but Mr. Tanner, I believe God is calling me to this position.”

Mark’s face darkened, and he ignored her comment.

“You’re in time to join us for a late lunch, early dinner or whatever. I’m grilling hamburgers in the backyard. We’re about ready to eat. Gran and Kristin are making lemonade. I was going upstairs to bring Eddie down when I heard your car drive in.”

When Mark turned toward the stairs, Alice walked into the kitchen. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked after she greeted Gran and Kristin.

“You can carry out the lemonade, if you like,” Gran said in her halting voice. “I need both hands for my walker, and the pitcher is a bit heavy for Kristin.”

“We’ve got your room ready, Mrs. Larkin,” Kristin said. “Want to see?”

“Sure.”

Alice walked with Kristin to the porch. The mini-blinds were closed, and the room was cool. One corner was piled high with boxes, but the rest of the room had been cleared for her use, and a small chest, chair, table and bunk bed moved in.

“Is the room all right?” she asked anxiously, reminding Alice of a troubled adult.

“I’ll be very comfortable here. I brought my own television, and a few other personal items that I’ll move in later.”

“Daddy says you’re only coming for a month.”

“Maybe longer, if we get along all right.”

“Guess what!” Kristin said excitedly. “I’m going to camp next week. Daddy couldn’t afford to send me, but someone at the church provided the money.”

“That’s great,” Alice agreed. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy church camp—I always did when I was a girl.”

When they returned to the kitchen, Mark was entering with Eddie, stooping low with an arm around the boy to support him. Eddie shuffled along like an old man.

Alice carried the iced beverage, Kristin picked up a package of hamburger buns and a bag of corn chips and they followed Mark and Eddie out to the yard, where hamburgers sizzled on the grill. Gran awkwardly maneuvered her walker down the two short steps, but Alice didn’t offer to help because she gathered that Gran wanted to maintain as much independence as possible.

The backyard was larger than the small weedy area in front of the house, and it was secluded from the neighboring houses by a tall wooden fence that required a coat of water seal. Shrubs needed a good pruning, and the grass was sparse in spots, while weeds grew profusely. A huge evergreen shaded the lawn, littering the whole area with pine needles. A wooden picnic table was situated on a stone patio beside a gas grill sending out tempting aromas.

“Kristin, will you bring the carton of potato salad from the refrigerator?” Mark said as he settled Eddie into a chair. With a dimple-deepening grin at Alice, he added, “I bought it at the deli—I’m not a cook and wouldn’t have time to prepare food if I was.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Not a thing,” he insisted. “This meal is on me. You don’t start work until tomorrow.”

Alice sat in an aluminum folding chair and sipped the lemonade that Kristin brought her.

“What should we call you?” Kristin asked.

“I’d like for you to call me by my first name— Alice.”

The hamburger was overdone and ketchup dripped around the edges of the bun, but Alice ate it, as well as the large pile of corn chips, and scant portion of potato salad that Mark served.

“I’m tired, Daddy,” Eddie whined before Mark had time to eat anything. “I want to go back to my room.”

“Can’t you eat anything else, Son?” Mark asked worriedly.

Eddie shook his curly head, and Mark left his plate and helped Eddie back into the house. Alice watched their departure speculatively. Did Eddie need all this coddling or had they spoiled the boy? she wondered.

Alice turned to Gran. “What is Eddie’s problem? Betty St. Claire told me his surgeries had been successful.”

Speaking with difficulty, Gran said, “The heart’s malfunction has been repaired, but he isn’t gaining much strength.”

“I’ll get Mark’s permission to call his doctor and find out what kind of diet and exercise would help Eddie. He’ll have to be stronger than he is now if he goes to school this fall.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon unloading Alice’s van. Mark whistled in amazement when she opened the rear gate of the van. “Where will we put all these things?”

“We’ll leave most of them in boxes, and I’ll unpack when I need something. I brought my television and computer, and a folding table for them, and there’s plenty of floor room for that. I didn’t notice a computer when I was here last week, and I thought it might be a good way to entertain the children.”

“Kristin has been pestering me to buy a computer,” he said lightly, “but that’s another thing I can’t afford right now.”

“Give it time, Mark. You’ll soon have your affairs in order.” She laid her hand on his arm, and he covered it with his. She was standing closer to him than she should be, and she tried to remove her hand and move away, but he held her with a firm grip.

“For the first time in many months, I believe that. When you came this afternoon, I felt like a burden had been lifted off my back. I can’t understand it. You walk in the house, and suddenly I’m confident that all my troubles are over. Why is that, Alice?”

“I don’t know, Mark, but I’m glad it’s so,” she whispered. “It feels right for me to be here.”

Chapter Two

Before she went to bed, Alice checked out the kitchen. While the equipment was adequate, the food supply was short, and she’d need to go to the grocery store before she did much cooking. Alice located several boxes of cold cereal, some fruit bars and a box of oatmeal that hadn’t been opened. There was plenty of milk and orange juice, and a small can of coffee in the refrigerator. Although an expensive coffeemaker sat on the cabinet top, a jar of instant coffee on the table indicated that Mark didn’t take time to fresh perk his coffee.

Her sleep was sporadic, and since the master bedroom was over the enclosed porch, Alice heard Mark’s footsteps when he got up at six o’clock. She dressed in denim shorts and a yellow knit shirt and hurried into the kitchen. She prepared the coffeemaker, sprinkled oatmeal in a pan of boiling water, poured a glass of orange juice, and placed a plate and cup on the table. Two slices of bread were waiting in the toaster when Mark came into the kitchen.

He was dumbfounded!

“Why, Alice! I don’t expect you to wait on me. I’ve always gotten my own breakfast.”

“I was awake, and I might as well be doing something. I’ve cooked oatmeal. Would you like to have eggs with your toast?”

He sat at the table awkwardly, seemingly at a loss to know how to deal with the situation. “The oatmeal and toast will be fine. I don’t eat a heavy breakfast.”

Alice lowered the bread into the toaster, dipped up a serving of the steaming oatmeal, sprinkled a handful of raisins on it, and set the bowl in front of Mark. She placed the milk container beside his plate. “Sugar and cream for your coffee?”

“No, I drink it black. Won’t you eat with me?”

“I’ll have a cup of coffee now, but I’ll wait to eat with the children. Do you mind if I set up a schedule for meals?”

“Make any schedule you like. I’ve told both of them to do what you say.”

“What time do you get home in the evening?”

“Usually between five and six—but I sometimes have to stay late with a client.”

“Shall we schedule dinner for six o’clock? If you’re not here by then, we’ll go ahead and eat.”

“I’ll do my best to be here as much as possible. I need that time with my family. And I’ll take care of them at night, so you can have every evening free if you want to go out.”

The rest of the week was an endurance test in patience for Alice. On Monday morning when she tried to get the children out of bed at half-past eight, Kristin came down reluctantly, but Eddie said he didn’t want any breakfast. About ten o’clock, she heard a bell ringing, and Kristin informed her that Eddie rang the bell when he wanted something. She climbed the stairs dutifully, and when she entered his room, he said, “I’m hungry, Alice.”

She looked at her watch and said, “It’ll be two hours before lunch. I’ll call you when it’s ready. In the meantime, perhaps you should straighten up your bed and pick up some of these things on the floor. I’m going shopping this afternoon, and I want you and Kristin to go with me.”

“I want something to eat now.”

“Eddie, your daddy said it was all right to have our meals at a regular time. I’ll have lots to do to keep your home comfortable, and I can’t be serving food all day. You’ll soon get used to eating earlier in the morning.”

Eddie closed his eyes, drooped forlornly, and he absolutely refused to get out of his chair and tidy the room, but Alice noticed that when noon came, he hungrily ate his grilled cheese sandwich and apple, and asked for a second glass of milk.

At the end of the first few days, Alice’s patience was stretched to the breaking point—the children didn’t like the food she cooked, they wanted to watch television rather than play outdoors, and they hadn’t been taught to look after their own rooms. Alice hesitated to push Eddie too much, until she’d spoken with Eddie’s pediatrician. After she heard Dr. Zane’s blunt assessment, Alice knew for Eddie’s sake, she had to force him to change his life-style.

“I’ve told Mark,” Dr. Zane said, “to quit mollycoddling that boy. In earlier years, he did have to take it easy, but the surgeries have corrected his heart problem, and he needs to be more active. To sit in his room and watch cartoons on TV is more detrimental to his health than if he starts playing Little League ball. Do what you can to snap him out of his lethargy, and I’ll support you.”

At the end of the first week, Alice could note some progress. They ate meals on schedule, and while Alice did furnish some of their usual snacks, the children were also eating more vegetables and fruits. When she weeded the flower beds, she kept Kristin and Eddie beside her and was gratified when they pulled a few weeds and happily reported to their father what they’d done. Eddie still expected Kristin or Alice to come running when he rang his bell, and when he begged her piteously to do what he wanted, his blue eyes, so much like his father’s, beseeching and hurting, Alice found it hard to deny him anything. Although she wanted to bestow tender love on the boy, she knew she must occasionally practice tough love.

Fortunately, Gran Watson supported Alice. “These children have needed a firm hand for a long time. After Clarice became ill, she couldn’t do anything, and Mark had too much on his mind to discipline his children. When they complain to me, I’ll turn a deaf ear,” and she added with a whimsical little laugh that Alice found endearing, “I can’t hear very well anyway, so it’s easy enough.” Gran was no trouble to Alice, for she cared for her own needs and kept her room in order, and she was overly complimentary of Alice’s cooking.

“I used to be a good cook,” she said, “but I’d lived alone for fifteen years before I came here, so I was out of the habit of cooking, and with my handicap, I haven’t been up to preparing a good meal. Mark doesn’t have time to cook, even if he knew how, which he doesn’t. We’ve been existing, and very little more.”

At night, Alice went to her room as soon as she straightened up the kitchen after dinner, closed the door, and left Mark alone with his family. When Saturday came, she was ready for a break, and after eating breakfast with Mark, she left for the day. By previous appointment, she went to Betty’s house.

“You look a little harried,” was Betty’s first comment.

“It’s been a hard week,” Alice said with a laugh, as she leaned back in a lounger and dropped her shoes to the floor. “But I’ve made a difference in their lives, and that was my goal in the first place. After a year of drifting, it’s challenging to be needed again.”

When Betty heard all that she’d done during the week, she threw up her hands in dismay.

“Alice! You’re supposed to be a nanny—not chief cook and bottle washer. You’ll kill yourself with such a schedule.”

“If you were working there, you’d do the same things I’m doing. Everywhere I look, there’s something important to do. My main concern right now is how to spend the money to make their lives more comfortable without Mark learning about it. Although his back is against the wall financially, I don’t believe he’ll readily accept help from a stranger.”

“What kind of financial help do you have in mind?”

“Nothing major. On my first trip to the grocery store, I spent more than what he’d budgeted for the month. I can get by with that, and he’ll never know, but Kristin should have some new clothes before she goes to camp. She’s a thin girl, but she’s quite a bit taller than she was last summer, and her jeans are too short.”

“Watch the paper for yard sales, and take her to one of those. You can add a few new outfits, and Mark won’t notice.”

“I also want to have a professional cleaning service come in and clean the whole house. He does have a woman come in for a few hours on Thursday, but she can’t keep up with all the work.”

“A group of our church women has taken house cleaning as a ministry. If the family is able to make a donation, fine. If not, they clean the house free of charge. Talk to Mark about it—he’ll never know how much money you give them.”

“Thanks, Betty—you’ve solved my two biggest problems.”

“Let me warn you, Alice, that Mark Tanner is an intelligent man, and he’s going to realize soon that you aren’t an ordinary nanny. You should tell him before he figures it out for himself.”

“This is only for a month’s trial,” Alice reminded her. “After that, I may tell him.”

“If you stay there three more weeks, Alice, you’ll be hooked, and you know it. I’m your friend, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I feel responsible for you since I’m the one who mentioned the Tanners to you.”

Alice laughed at her. “Hey, I’m a big girl now— I can look after myself.”

Betty’s eyes were skeptical. “I wonder.”

“By the way, who is Ethel Pennington?”

Betty grinned at her. “So you’ve seen her, have you?”

“I can hardly help it. She’s been in and out of the house several days this week, and Wednesday, she brought hamburgers and French fries for Kristin and Eddie at two o’clock in the afternoon. I took charge of the food and told her that we’d have it for dinner—that I’d scheduled regular hours and I didn’t want the children nibbling between meals. She was obviously angry, and Kristin and Eddie weren’t happy about it either, but I won that battle, for so far, Mark is supporting me. Too much of that kind of food isn’t good for Eddie. Dr. Zane said he needs fruits and vegetables.”

“To answer your question—Ethel is a spinster who’s had her eye on Mark for years. She lives a few blocks from the Tanners, and as soon as Clarice got sick, she became the ministering angel. She intends to be the next Mrs. Tanner, and she’s working on Mark through the children.”

“Is Mark interested in her?”

“I doubt it very much, but she isn’t easily discouraged.”

The night before Kristin left for church camp, Mark telephoned that he would be late getting home.

“If you don’t mind, Alice, you can put the children to bed early. I don’t want them staying up until I come home.”

She prepared beef stew, Waldorf salad, and hot rolls for dinner, putting aside enough food for Mark in case he hadn’t eaten before he came home. The children were quieter than usual as they ate, and Kristin merely picked at her food. As Alice cleared the table and filled the dishwasher, the children dogged her steps—she couldn’t get a foot away from either one of them.

After her work was finished, she said, “Your father asked me to send you to bed early, for he didn’t know when he would be home.”

“Oh, Alice, please don’t make us go to bed before Daddy comes,” Kristin begged, and Eddie puckered up as if he would soon burst into tears.

“But he doesn’t know what time he’ll be here, and we leave for camp early in the morning.”

Kristin grabbed her hand, and Eddie tugged on Alice’s jeans. “But I won’t sleep until he comes. When he’s late, we’re always afraid he’s not coming home. Please, don’t send us to bed, Alice. Eddie will cry until he’s sick.”

Like a bolt from the blue, Alice suddenly realized that she’d misjudged the situation in this home. Her whole focus had been to discipline these children, Eddie in particular, and to build up their physical bodies with the right kind of foods and exercise. And while those things were necessary, suddenly she realized that, more than anything else, Kristin and Eddie needed love and security. They’d witnessed their mother’s slow death, and knowing that Mark was all they had left, their fear of losing him was overpowering.

She’d been listening to her head and not her heart. Her conscience smote her, and she put an arm around Kristin and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

“You can wait up for a while anyway. Why don’t you take your baths, get into your pj’s, and we’ll sit in the living room and wait for him? What do you and your father do in the evenings?”

A smile lit Kristin’s face, and Eddie hugged Alice’s legs. “We play games sometimes or sit on the couch and watch television.” She giggled. “We watch the programs, but Daddy sits with his arms around us and goes to sleep most of the time.”

“I should be able to handle that,” Alice said. “Up the stairs with you, then. I’ll help you with your bath-water, Eddie, and I’ll turn down your beds so you’ll be ready when your daddy comes home.”

“Will you tell him we got ready all by ourselves?” Eddie asked.

“If I don’t have to do too many things for you.”

While she waited for them to finish bathing, Alice tried to think of a game that would interest both of them. As soon as Mark helped her set up the computer, she could provide many educational and entertaining programs for them to watch, but that wouldn’t help her tonight.

Deciding there was a difference between spoiling and loving, she started downstairs. “Come down when you’re ready,” she called. She was mixing a pan of fresh apple muffins when they found her in the kitchen.

“I’m going to put these in the oven to bake, and we can have milk and muffins later on.”

“Oh, boy,” Kristin cried. “We’ll like that, won’t we, Eddie?”

He nodded happily and tugged on Alice’s hand. She knelt beside him and smoothed back his wet hair, and he threw his arms around her and kissed her. The caress had a strange effect on Alice, for it lighted an ember in her heart that had never been touched—she had the first glimmering of what a mother’s love entailed. Her voice quavered when she spoke.

“While the muffins bake, let’s play a game my sister and I used to enjoy. We’ll sit here at the table.” On the table, Alice laid a sheet of paper she’d brought from her room. “We’re going to draw creatures. I’ll start first.”

“But Eddie can’t draw,” Kristin said.

“Sure, he can. I’m going to draw the head of a dog, then you, Kristin, can add the body, and Eddie will draw the legs and feet of the dog.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” Kristin agreed. “I make good grades in art.”

“Ah, but there’s a catch to it,” Alice said. “Neither of you can look while I’m drawing the head, and I’ll fold over the top of the paper before I hand it to you. Eddie can’t watch while you’re shaping the body, and you’ll fold over what you’ve done before he draws the feet and legs.”

Kristin frowned. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Let’s try it anyway. Each of us will mark where the next part of the animal is supposed to be drawn. Cover your eyes.”

Alice quickly sketched an outline of what purported to be a poodle, although art wasn’t one of her strong points. She folded the paper so that only the edge of the neck was showing.

“Okay, Kristin, you can look now, but Eddie keeps his eyes covered.”

Kristin screwed up her eyes in concentration as she carefully drew the body of a dalmatian. Watching her, Alice deduced that she did have some artistic talent. When Eddie’s turn came, with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, he outlined four legs that could belong on no other dog except a dachshund.

As she watched Eddie’s tiny fingers painstakingly creating the legs and feet, Kristin smiled broadly, and when he finished and Alice unfolded the paper, Kristin laughed, shouting, “That’s the funniest looking dog I’ve ever seen.”

The head of an aristocratic poodle attached to the spotted, thin body of a dalmatian, supported by four short, sturdy legs was amusing.

Eddie giggled, saying, “But I did make nice legs, didn’t I, Alice?” He jumped up and down on the chair. “I want to draw a bird. Let me draw first this time.”

They’d made three more creatures by the time the muffins were ready, and the two children were more animated than Alice had seen them. She removed the muffins from the pan.

“Do you want to eat a muffin now or wait until they’ve cooled?”

“They smell so good, let’s have one now,” Kristin said, “and maybe we can have some more when Daddy comes home.”

“We need to share with Gran. Eddie, will you take her a muffin while I pour the milk?”

He jumped out of his chair. “I want to show her our pictures, too.” He tucked the images they’d drawn under his arm and took the muffin Alice placed in a plastic bowl. She watched him a bit anxiously for she hadn’t seen Eddie go up or down the stairs by himself, but neither he nor Kristin seemed to realize that his behavior was unusual. She waited with bated breath until he returned to the kitchen, and although his color was heightened and his breathing accelerated, soon after he sat down and started eating his muffin, his complexion and breathing were normal.

“I want to show Daddy the pictures, too,” he said.

“Fine. Help me rinse our glasses and plates, and we can leave them in the sink. We might have another snack with your father when he comes home, if it isn’t too late.”

“But you said we could wait up for him,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that, but if you do get sleepy, I’ll stay upstairs with you until he’s home.”

When they went into the family room, before they turned on the television, Kristin said, “What’s another game you and your sister played?”

“We used to tell progressive stories. One of us would think of a subject and we’d make up a story about it. The first one would talk for a few minutes, then the other one would add on ideas. We’d switch back and forth, changing the story content to fit what the one before had said until we thought the story was finished. They were make-believe stories. Think you could do that?”

“I can do it,” Eddie said, “if Kristin can.”

“I want to start the story,” Kristin insisted.

They settled on the couch with Alice between the two children.

“Natasha was a little girl, and she was afraid of spiders,” Kristin started.

“I don’t like that name—I can’t say it,” Eddie protested.

“Make him listen, Alice,” Kristin said, and turning a stern eye on her brother, she said, “You’re not supposed to say anything until I’ve finished.”

Alice put her arm around Eddie, and he snuggled close. “If you can’t pronounce Natasha, maybe you can say, Tasha.”

“Tasha,” he said experimentally. “I’m going to call her Tasha. Hurry up, Kristin, so I can talk.”

Two stories and an hour later, Alice had learned a lot about her companions. They were both afraid of spiders, they were terrified of the dark, they couldn’t understand why their mother had to die, and they were worried about the future—especially what would happen to them if their father should also die. These revelations disturbed Alice, especially when she knew that Kristin was going to camp tomorrow where she would probably encounter lots of darkness and spiders.

When the second story ended, Eddie said, “Okay—what’re we going to play now?”

Smothering a yawn, Alice said, “How about the ‘take a nap’ game?”

“Hey, Alice, that’s sneaky,” Kristin said. “I bet there isn’t any such game.”

“No, but I’m sleepy. Let’s find a show on television that you like, and you can watch while I take a nap.”

Kristin looked at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock, and we usually aren’t awake this late, so we don’t know what to watch.” Her face twitched nervously as she added, “It’s awful late, I wonder if Daddy is all right.”

“I’m sure he is.” What could she say to calm the fears of these children? “Shall I tell you a story before I take my nap?”

“Is it the kind where we talk, too?” Kristin asked.

“No, this is a Jesus story? You know who Jesus is, don’t you?”

They solemnly nodded their heads.

“Once when Jesus was talking to a group of his friends, he told them they shouldn’t worry about things that they couldn’t change. Some of them were afraid they wouldn’t have enough food to eat, others didn’t think they had enough clothes. And Jesus said that they should trust God to take care of them and not worry about what might happen tomorrow.”

Kristin and Eddie looked at her in mystification, obviously without any understanding of her words.

“Take your daddy, for instance. Let’s say he’s had a flat tire on the way home, and it took some time for him to repair it. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

“I don’t think so,” Kristin said slowly.

“Then why should you worry about it? Or be afraid that something terrible has happened to him? God loves your father, and He’ll look after him.”

“Then why did He let my mommy die?” Eddie whispered, tears glistening in his big blue eyes.

God, I’m getting in over my head. Help!

“Your mommy was very sick, wasn’t she? God took her to be with Him, and she won’t ever be sick again. Would you want her to still be here with you and hurting a lot?”

“No,” Kristin said, “but why didn’t God heal her? We need her more than God does.”

“I don’t have all the answers, but I know this— God could have healed your mother, but why he didn’t, I can’t tell you. We have to trust God to do the right thing, although we can’t always understand why He doesn’t do what we want Him to do.”

“I miss my mommy,” Eddie said, his chin quivering, and Alice’s heart ached for the boy. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, now wet with tears.

“I know you do, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back. So instead of worrying about things you can’t help, why don’t you be the kind of children your mother would want you to be?”

“What would she want us to do?” Kristin wondered.

“Oh, she’d want you to help your daddy and not let him know how sad you are, and try to grow up healthy and strong, and learn a lot of things. Do you think you can do that?”

“Maybe,” Kristin said, but she looked doubtful.

“Let’s learn a Bible verse? There’s one that says, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Could you say that with me and mean it?”

Several times, they repeated in unison, “I will trust and not be afraid.”

When she thought they had the verse committed to memory, Alice said, “Let’s turn on the TV and watch one program. If Mark isn’t home by then, you should go to bed.” When she found a commentary on wild animals that seemed appropriate for the children to watch, she added, “I’m going to take a nap—your father will probably be here by the time the program ends.”

Alice didn’t really intend to go to sleep, but she thought it might induce sleep in her charges. When she awakened groggily, she slitted her eyes, noting that Kristin was lying with her head on Alice’s lap, and that Eddie was snuggled against her, sheltered by her right arm. Her arm was numb, and she supposed that had awakened her until she roused further. Mark stood over them, the remote in his hand, turning off the television.

Alice flushed to have him see her in such close proximity to his family, and she sat up, her movement awakening Kristin and Eddie.

“Daddy!” Kristin cried. “You did come home. We worried about you until Alice taught us a verse, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Then all of us went to sleep.”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Eddie wiggled away from Alice and ran to Mark. He clutched the pictures they’d drawn. “Look, Daddy—we’ve been drawing pictures.”

“And telling stories,” Kristin interrupted him. She took Mark’s hand. “Come in the kitchen. Alice made apple muffins, and we saved some for you. I’ll pour the milk.”

“Pictures, stories and muffins, too! I’ll have a hard time entertaining you from now on,” Mark said to his children, but his eyes were on Alice, and she lowered her lashes against his intent gaze.

She got up from the couch, straightened her clothing, and pushed her hair away from her face. Since she’d arrived at the Tanners’, she’d been French-braiding her hair, but it was always disheveled by the end of the day. As the children ran ahead of them to the kitchen, she said, “I know you said to put them to bed, but they begged so hard to wait up for you that I didn’t have the heart to make them go. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

“Mind?” he said, laughing. “I was being considerate of you. You’re supposed to have free evenings, and I didn’t want you to be bothered with them, after you’d had them all day.”

“I enjoyed the evening as much as they did. Besides, they needed help tonight, so I’m glad I was here. I’ll tell you about it later.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, and she darted a quick glance toward him. The expression in his blue eyes startled her, and she dropped her gaze quickly, not daring to interpret what she saw there. Impulsively, Mark embraced Alice in a brotherly hug, and for a moment, Alice rested her head on his shoulder.

Careful, Alice, don’t misinterpret his caress—he’s simply grateful to you for looking after his children, she told herself.

He dropped his arms, and she moved away from him casually, saying, “I can warm your dinner in the microwave if you haven’t eaten.”

“We had food sent in, so I’ve eaten, but the milk and muffins sound good.”

“Did you have a difficult evening?” she asked as they walked companionably down the hallway to the kitchen.

He groaned. “We met with a rich and very difficult client—one of the officers had offended him, and he was threatening to withdraw all of his assets from the bank, so the CEO wanted all of us there to mollify him.”

“Did it work?”

“Finally, but it was a long session.” He yawned.

Kristin had already placed four glasses of milk on the table, and muffins on napkins for each of them. Alice had intended to go to her room and not infringe on this short time Mark had with his kids, but she knew Kristin wouldn’t understand, so she sat down. She had no appetite, however, for as the children chattered about their day’s activities, from time to time, she sensed Mark’s eyes searching her face.

Mark took the last bite of his muffin and asked for another one. “Is it all right, Alice?” Kristin asked.

“Of course.”

“Now, you kids, go upstairs, brush your teeth and get in bed. I’ll be up to kiss you good-night as soon as I finish my snack,” Mark said. “Kristin, help Eddie.”

Alice started to tell him that Eddie didn’t need any help, but she decided to let Mark find that out for himself.

As the sounds of their footsteps faded up the stairs, Mark spoke quietly, “What kind of help did they need tonight?”

“Do you realize that Kristin and Eddie are afraid you’re going to die?”

His face blanched, and Alice continued, “They think they’ll lose you like they did their mother. They can’t understand why God let their mother die. I tried to talk with them and reassure them, but I don’t know how to explain God’s will to children. Betty said you’re an excellent counselor—perhaps you can talk with them.”

Mark laid down his fork, shoved the half-eaten muffin aside, and stared at the floor. At last he looked at her, and Alice was chilled by the bleak expression in his eyes.

“I can’t give them any assurance when I don’t have any for myself. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

He pushed back his chair, and without a word left the kitchen. His footsteps sounded leaden as he climbed the stairs.

Alice remembered something Betty once told her, “I think he’s lost his faith, and that’s a terrible thing to say about a man who was a powerhouse in the ministry.” Alice had purposely watched to see if Betty’s suspicions were true, but since Mark had always been upbeat, she decided that Betty was overly concerned. However, it had bothered Alice that God was never mentioned in the house, and that none of them attended church services. The family’s spiritual life had been neglected during Clarice’s illness, and Alice intended to start taking the children to Sunday school. But in light of Mark’s words tonight, she suspected that he did have a serious problem.

If she was inadequate in comforting a couple of children, what words could she find to encourage Mark Tanner? And why should she concern herself about this man’s happiness—she’d come here only to be a nanny to his children, hadn’t she? Alice didn’t dare truly answer that question—not even to herself.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Mark had reverted to his pleasant self, and Alice sometimes wondered if she’d dreamed that moment when he seemed defeated, as if life had handed him more trouble than he could handle. Yet she knew she hadn’t imagined it, and during her daily devotions, she prayed for Mark’s spiritual condition.

Mark had agreed to the housecleaning plan, and Alice had arranged for the women to come the day she took Kristin to church camp, for since Gran and Eddie were going along, the house would be empty for the workers. She’d replenished Kristin’s wardrobe without Mark questioning the cost. He was impressed with the secondhand garments she’d purchased, not realizing that some of the items were new. He gave Kristin a ten-dollar bill for her camp expenses, and was none the wiser when Alice doubled the amount. For the first time since John Larkin had died and willed her a fortune, Alice felt good about her money.

Gran had protested when Alice invited her to go along.

“Oh, no, Alice, you don’t want to be saddled with an old woman like me.”

“Gran, you haven’t been out of the house since I’ve been here, and that isn’t healthy for you.”

Interest dawning in her eyes, Gran continued to protest. “But I don’t think I can get in that van of yours.”

“My husband was in a wheelchair the last several months of his life, and the van is equipped with a lift, which will make it easy for you to get in.”

“All right. It’ll be nice to drive out in the country. The campsite is in a very pretty part of this state.”

The camp was located near Charlottesville—the same camp Alice had attended when she was a girl, although quite a few improvements had been made since then, including an Olympic-size swimming pool. When she’d gone to camp, the swimming hole was in the creek, but she’d learned to swim there. It was at this camp that she’d dedicated her life to God, even then praying for a life of service. She’d thought her prayer had been fulfilled when she took care of John for several years, but perhaps that was just the beginning.

Since the round-trip drive would take several hours, Mark had hesitated to allow Eddie to go with them.

“He tires so easily,” he said. “I’m sure that Ethel will be glad to keep him. She’s helped out before when I didn’t have anyone to stay with the children.”

“But, Daddy, I want to see where Kristin is going.”

With a worried look, Mark finally agreed, but Alice wondered if he’d had second thoughts, when just before they were ready to start, Ethel barged into the house.

“I’m taking care of Eddie while you’re gone.”

“Eddie is going with us,” Kristin said. “Daddy said it’s all right.”

“Perhaps he changed his mind,” Ethel said breezily, a smug look on her face as if she had information they didn’t.

“I want to go, Alice,” Eddie said.

“Of course, you’re going, Eddie, unless Mark tells me differently within the next five minutes.”

She turned to Gran, who was limping down the stairs, and reached out a hand to help her descend the last two steps.

“Then I’m coming with you, Alice,” Ethel said. “You’ll need help with Gran, and Eddie, as sickly as he is.”

Eddie wilted at her statement, and annoyed, Alice said, “Eddie is not sickly. He doesn’t need any help.”

But short of physically removing Ethel from her car, Alice was helpless in the face of the woman’s brashness, as Ethel took Gran’s arm, led her out of the house, helped her into the van, and preempted the front seat where Alice had expected Kristin to sit. Her aggressive behavior was annoying, but since Ethel had been helpful during Clarice’s illness and after her death, Alice wasn’t in a position to antagonize a friend of the family. She was provoked at herself because part of her anger stemmed from Betty’s comment that Ethel was angling for Mark’s attention by befriending his children.

Ethel wasn’t a bad-looking woman. She was of medium height, with a slender waist, and shapely. Only a long thin nose kept her from having a beautiful face. Ethel was probably forty years of age, although she tried to disguise her few wrinkles with a heavy coat of makeup.

“Do you know how to find the camp?” she asked as Alice left the city behind and headed into open country.

“I attended camp there when I was a girl, but I wasn’t sure how to get there from Richmond, so Mr. Tanner gave me directions.”

“You called him ‘Mark’ earlier. Why change to Mr. Tanner now?”

“It depends on whom I’m talking to. I sometimes call him Daddy when I’m talking to his children.”

That comment silenced Ethel for several miles, and when she started talking again, she addressed most of her remarks to Gran and the kids. Alice soon noted that Ethel had an adverse effect on Eddie. She constantly referred to his disability, and by the time they arrived at camp, Eddie was limp as a rag, and Alice had to persuade him to get out of the car.

“I don’t feel good, Alice. I’ll stay in the van.”

“Nonsense! You need to walk around a bit, and we’ll have lunch with Kristin before we start home.”

They found a shady spot where Gran and Eddie could sit on a bench, and when Ethel would have taken control of Kristin’s registration, Alice said firmly, “I’ll go with Kristin to register and find out where she’ll be staying. The rest of you stay here in the shade.”

Picking up Kristin’s suitcase, Alice headed toward a log building that had a registration sign tacked on a post.

The camp was located in a small river valley, with woodlands along its banks. A dozen log dormitories were scattered among the trees, and one long building with a wide veranda, that Alice took for the dining hall, was situated beside the swimming pool. A badminton court and a softball field were beyond the pool. From one point, they had a good view of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Kristin placed a trembling hand on Alice’s arm, and she knew that the child feared this new experience.

“I don’t see Susie anywhere—she said she’d be here to meet me. She came to camp last year so she knows what to do.”

“I’m sure she’ll arrive soon, and we won’t leave until she does come. I remember the first day I came to camp, and it was scary, but in a few hours, I felt right at home. You’ll enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll miss Daddy.”

“He’ll miss you, too, but you’ll be so busy with crafts, hiking and sports activities that the week will pass before you know it.”

They entered the open door of the rustic building crowded with girls and their parents. One child detached herself from a group and ran toward Kristin.

“That’s Susie,” Kristin said in relief.

“Hi, Kristin. I’ve already registered and I was watching for you. We’re assigned to Bear Cabin—it’s a nice one. Come on, I’ll show you what to do.”

Alice placed the suitcase in a corner where a lot of other luggage was stacked, and queued up with the two girls to wait their turn at the registration table. A young woman joined them and, with a broad smile, said, “I’m Susie’s mother, Erin Saberton. You must be Mrs. Larkin.”

Alice shook hands with her. “Yes, I’m Kristin’s nanny. I’m glad to meet you. I hope you’ll let Susie visit Kristin when they return from camp. The house is too quiet.”

With a laugh, Erin said, “It won’t be quiet if Susie is visiting.” She lowered her voice. “Susie’s wanted to visit, but Mark has been so withdrawn since Clarice’s death that I thought he didn’t want visitors.”

“He’s gone so much that he does like to have evenings alone with his kids, but there’s no reason Susie can’t come during the daytime. I’ll be glad to have her.”

“When the Tanners had only part-time nannies, I hesitated to send another child for them to oversee. But thanks for your invitation—Susie will telephone before she comes.”

It was almost noon by the time Kristin was settled in Bear Cabin—a small cottage with five sets of crude bunk beds. There were a couple of lavatories in the cabin, but a central bathhouse would take care of their other needs. Alice helped Kristin make up her bunk bed, which was right below Susie’s. Mrs. Saberton had to return home, so Susie ate with Kristin and her family in the long dining room.

As he watched the campers, Eddie’s spirits improved a little, showing interest in the place his sister would be living for a week. While they ate hot dogs, potato chips and cookies, Eddie said, “When can I come to camp, Alice?”

“Not until you’re as old as Kristin.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to be a camper, Eddie, so I wouldn’t count on it,” Ethel said.

Eddie turned a piteous look in Alice’s direction, and she patted him on the back. She was too angry to answer Ethel, but she had her emotions under control when they were driving back to Richmond. Gran settled down for a nap, and when Alice saw that Eddie was sleeping tight in his seat belt, head leaning forward, she said to Ethel, “Why do you persist in making an invalid out of Eddie? I talked with his pediatrician, and he said that Eddie’s health problems have been corrected. He told me to encourage Eddie to live like any other five-year-old boy. I can’t do that if you keep telling him he’s sick.”

Anger flashed from Ethel’s black eyes. “I’ve been looking after Kristin and Eddie since their mother got sick. It’s none of your business how I treat them.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Mark has hired me to look out for his children, and I’m going to do that to the best of my ability.”

“But you’re only a stranger—how can you know what’s better for them than I do?”

“A stranger can often see things that others can’t. For instance, Eddie has made a slave out of Kristin—she runs at his beck and call, and it isn’t necessary. There isn’t any reason he can’t get a drink of water when he wants it, why he can’t go up and down the stairs without help, and I hope to instill some independence in him this week. Gran isn’t able to wait on him, I’m not going to, and I’ll appreciate it if you don’t interfere.”

Ethel didn’t respond, but the look she cast in Alice’s direction was venomous, and Alice was convinced that she’d report the conversation to Mark.

The cleaning women were just finishing when Alice returned. Even from the outside, the house looked better because the windows were clean and shining, and the lemony fresh smell inside the house was stimulating. After she settled Gran and Eddie in their rooms for a nap, Alice went to the porch where the women were washing the paneling.

“The house looks great,” she said. “It won’t be so difficult to keep everything tidy now.” When she paid them before they left, she tripled the amount that Mark had laid aside for them, and the woman to whom she gave the money, stared at her speculatively. Apparently this was more money then they usually received, and she hoped she hadn’t overdone it. Since Mark was known to be hard up, people might start wondering where he was getting so much money.

The next night, Alice asked Mark to help her set up the computer, and he readily agreed. Since she wanted to supervise the children’s use of the computer, they put it in her room.

Mark protested a little. “Maybe we’d better set this up in the dining room—you could still keep your eye on them when they’re using the computer. They’ll want to use it all the time, and you won’t even have any privacy when you go to your room.”

“We’ll see how it goes first.”

Since she knew Eddie would want to try it out at once, Alice had stopped by the video store and rented an educational game. While Mark played the game with Eddie, Alice sat in the rocker and picked up her sewing basket. She hadn’t accomplished much on the tablecloth she was making for her sister since she’d come to the Tanners.

“Time for bed, Eddie,” Mark said. “We’ll get your shower, and I’ll tuck you in.”

Eddie went without much protest, and he came over to Alice, and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for bringing the computer, Alice. It’s been a fun thing to do with Daddy.”

Alice laid down her embroidery and hugged him tightly, shutting her eyes to keep any tears from escaping. “You’re a good boy, Eddie,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve had a nice time.”

“I’ll come back down after Eddie’s in bed, Alice. I noticed you have a Scrabble game on the hard drive. Can I challenge you to a game?”

“But, Daddy, I’m afraid to go upstairs without Kristin. Won’t you stay upstairs with me?”

Mark hesitated, but he said, “Not tonight, Son. You’ll soon be asleep, and I’ll hear you if you call.”

Alice had always enjoyed playing Scrabble, and had been good at it, but she was no match for Mark. She could readily understand Betty’s comments about his superior intelligence, for he quickly spelled out a word clue. They played two games, and Mark won both of them. But Alice excused herself, for she couldn’t concentrate on the game, finding it difficult to think of any words. Mark’s name rolled over and over in her mind excluding all others, and of course, in Scrabble, she wasn’t allowed to use given names. They sat close together to have a good view of the screen, and when their shoulders touched or hands collided as they typed in their answers, Alice’s pulse raced and her temperature soared.

“That’s not very nice of you—beating me on my own computer,” she said when Mark pushed back his chair. “I’ll have to withdraw your computer privileges.”

Mark’s eyes softened into a smile. “Oh, don’t do that. This is the most pleasant evening I’ve spent for ages. We may do this every night.”

“Not if you keep beating me,” she retorted, a smile on her face.

Mark stood up and stretched, and Alice looked away quickly. “I’ll check to see if Eddie is okay, and then let’s sit on the patio. It’s a pleasant evening. I’ll open the window in Eddie’s room, so we’ll hear him if he calls.”

Don’t do it, Alice. Keep this relationship on a professional level.

But despite her qualms, when Mark came downstairs, she went with him to the backyard. He cleaned the lounge chairs with a cloth, and when she was seated, he stretched out on the chair beside her, breathing deeply.

“Wow! It’s good to relax. I didn’t even take time for lunch today at the office, and thank you for the good meal tonight. After fasting all day, I really enjoyed it. You’re a good cook, Alice. You must have had lots of experience.”

“My mother taught me and my sister to cook when we were girls, and I did several 4-H projects on foods and nutrition, so I started at an early age.” She didn’t mention that after her marriage, they’d kept the same cook John had employed when he was a widower.

“Besides the work at the bank, the care of the kids almost overwhelms me at time. I had no idea the kind of burden a single parent carries, and sometimes I blush in shame when I realize how blithely I used to counsel single parents.”

“But you’re a good father, Mark—you’ve done well with your children.”

She saw him shake his head in the semidarkness, and a lock of hair fell over his forehead. “No, I’m not really. I’m neglecting some of the most important things they need to know.”

She wondered if he referred to his lack of spiritual training. They were sitting close enough that Alice could have reached out and touched his arm in encouragement, but she refrained.

“It takes time, Mark. It’s only been six months.”

“I keep telling myself that, and months before Clarice’s death, she wasn’t able to deal with the children’s problems. I shielded her as much as possible.” He sighed. “But I don’t find it as overwhelming as I did a few months ago. It’s taking time to deal with my hang-ups, but I’m working on it.” He took a deep breath. “Thanks for listening to me, Alice. I’m probably imposing on you, but it’s been a long since I’ve had an adult to listen to me. A minister needs someone at home to support him, because he’s usually giving of himself all day. Even though I’m not working with a church congregation as I used to do, I’m a counselor at the bank, and I still have to deal with other people’s problems.”

“When are you intending to take another church?” Alice dared to ask.

“I don’t know, Alice—I really don’t know what to do.”

The rest of the week, as soon as Eddie was settled in, it seemed natural for Mark and Alice to seek the peace and comfort of the patio. Alice excused her actions by believing it was a good time to discuss her rehab program for Eddie and to talk of Kristin’s maturation, but she knew those weren’t the only reasons she wanted to be in Mark’s company. Sometimes they didn’t talk much, but Alice felt that the times of silence were good for him. After being with people all day, he didn’t need to talk—he only needed a companion.

And her work with Eddie had resulted in some progress. After one day of whining, Eddie learned to do a few things for himself. He walked slowly up and down stairs by himself, he went to the bathroom unattended, and Alice showed him how to straighten his bedsheets and cover them with a spread. Every morning, after he’d eaten his breakfast, she walked with him around the neighborhood streets, increasing the distance each day.

When he dozed over his food one night at dinner, Mark gazed at him in concern, but he offered no complaint to Alice.

Parents were invited to the closing exercises at the camp on Friday evening, and Mark arranged to leave work a few hours early on that day to attend.

“I’d like for you to go with me, Alice, unless you have other plans for tonight,” Mark had said as he picked up his briefcase that morning and started to work.

This isn’t wise, Alice cautioned herself mentally, but she heard herself saying, “I’ll be happy to go— I’m eager to find out how Kristin enjoyed herself.” She had a giddy sense of excitement as she helped Eddie dress, and later as she looked in the closet to choose her own garments. She’d mostly worn jeans and sweatshirts since she’d come to Richmond, but she chose a white cotton knit skirt styled with a self-sash, a multistitched elasticized waist, and inseam pockets. She pulled a blouse of cream fabric with an overall floral pattern over her head. Her long blond hair was brushed backward, and secured with a barrette. She strapped on a pair of white leather sandals and thought she looked well-groomed for a trip to camp.

Alice prepared dinner early, and she ate with Gran and Eddie before Mark came home. She wrapped a plate of food with foil and kept it warm for him in the oven.

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that, Alice,” Mark protested. “I often miss a meal.”

“Which you shouldn’t,” she said. “Take time to eat, while I put the dishes and pans in the dishwasher.” She was sure Mark had gained a few pounds, and she wanted to continue the trend until he looked more like the man in the picture she often looked at on the living room mantel.

He laid his briefcase and coat aside, washed his hands in the utility room, and sat down at the table.

“I’m imposing on you, Alice, and I shouldn’t do it, but I make so many decisions that it’s occasionally nice for someone to just tell me what to do.”

By now, Alice had learned Mark’s dietary habits. She took a salad from the refrigerator and placed it before him with a bottle of Italian dressing. She poured chilled tea over a glass of ice cubes and dropped in a sliver of lemon. When he finished with the salad, she handed him the warm plate of baked turkey, potato cakes and green peas.

“I didn’t prepare dessert, for I think they’ll serve ice cream to everybody at the camp.”

Mark didn’t voice any further appreciation, but it was reward enough for Alice to see him enjoying his meal while he looked over the front page of the newspaper that she’d laid by his plate.

While she secured Eddie in the back seat of Mark’s station wagon, Alice suppressed a sense of excitement, reminding herself that she wasn’t a girl going on a first date. She was a nanny now, and her role was to look after Mark Tanner’s children, not fancy that he’d invited her because he wanted her company; but she had trouble remembering that when she listened to Mark, who was an engaging conversationalist.

“This reminds me of old times,” he said, as they left Richmond on I-64. “I used to direct a camp every summer, usually for boys in their early teens. It was a rewarding experience, and I’ve missed it.”

“I often camped when I was a girl. We lived on a farm, and I went to 4-H camps more often than to church camps, and I loved them.”

“What about family, Alice? Do you still have your parents?”

“Yes, they live in a retirement community now, but the farm is still in the family, and my aunt and uncle are the tenants. I have a sister, too, who’s divorced with two children, so I have some understanding of what’s it’s like to be a single parent.”

“My parents live in Tennessee,” Mark said, “and we don’t see them often. They own a business in a small town, and they can’t get away very often. They were here six months ago for the—” he paused and looked over his shoulder at Eddie “—the funeral,” he continued. “They feel badly that they aren’t close enough to help out with the kids, and I did consider moving back to my hometown, so I could have some help. But I have to stay in a metropolitan area to make the money I need right now.”

Seeing that Eddie was getting fidgety, Alice said, “Let’s play a game, Eddie.”

“We can’t play a game in the car.”

“Oh, it’s a travel game. You count the number of animals you see in the fields on the left-hand side of the road, and I’ll count the ones I see on my side. We’ll get a point for each animal. How far can you count?”

“I can count up to twenty. Kristin taught me.”

“Then, as long as there aren’t more than twenty in any field, you have it made.”

Alice fished a small notebook out of her purse. “I’ll keep score.”

Mark entered into the spirit of the game, and since Eddie was too short to see what they were approaching, he would call out, “Coming up on the left—look quickly.”

“Hey!” Alice protested in mock reproof after a few miles. “Two against one isn’t fair.”

“Oh, stop complaining,” Mark said. “Coming up on the right—a large herd of cattle. Start counting.”

Laughing, Alice counted, “One, two, three…” By the time they reached the camp, she and Eddie were neck and neck in total points. As he drove into the parking lot, Mark said, “I don’t know why I haven’t thought of something like that. Eddie has never been a good traveler.”

“Most children aren’t, I understand,” she answered. “He didn’t enjoy his trip to the camp on Monday.”

“No, Ethel said he was listless.”

Well, thanks, Ethel. Apparently she’d reported everything to Mark. Alice wasn’t aware that she contacted him in the evening, so she must have telephoned him at the bank.

Kristin and Susie raced to meet them when they approached the council circle where the closing program was to be held. One look at Kristin’s tanned face and the delight that flamed from her blue eyes repaid Alice for the money she’d spent on the child. If only she had the right to give this family everything they needed!

Mark knelt and took Kristin in his arms. “Well, honey, have you had a good time?”

“Yes, Daddy, and I want to come back next year. We’ve been horseback riding, swimming and hiking. But the food hasn’t been very good.” She turned to Alice. “I’ve missed your good meals. If it hadn’t been for the snacks I bought, I’d have gone to bed hungry every night.” Worry crossed her face. “I’ve spent almost all of that twenty dollars you gave me.”

From his kneeling position, Mark flashed a quick look toward Alice, and in spite of herself, her face grew warm.

“I want to ride horses, too,” Eddie said. “Why can’t I come to camp?”

“You’re too little, Eddie,” his sister said bossily. “But there is a family camp—we could come as a family sometime,” she said hopefully.

“We’ll plan on that for next year,” Mark said, as he stood up.

“Hey, Brother Tanner,” a man’s voice sounded, and soon Mark was surrounded by several men—some embraced him, others thumped him on the shoulder. “We’ve missed seeing you at our ministerial meetings.”

It occurred to Alice that these men had known Mark when he was serving at Tyler Memorial Church. As they continued toward the campfire burning in the distance, one older man, whom Mark had introduced as “Reverend Astor, my friend and mentor,” walked beside Mark, who was leading Eddie. Alice moved forward to join Susie and Kristin, as both of them talked at the same time about the incidents they’d enjoyed during the week. Although she didn’t intend to eavesdrop, she couldn’t avoid hearing the conversation behind her.

“Brother Mark,” the man said, “it’s a great disappointment to me that you’ve forsaken the ministry. Have you forgotten the promise you made to serve our Lord with your life? Surely you aren’t happy rejecting your divine calling.”

Mark didn’t answer at first, and Alice envisioned wrinkles creasing his brow, the bleak look in his eyes and a rigid cast on his lips—expressions she’d noticed a few times when he didn’t think anyone was looking.

“You know why I had to resign from the pastorate. My wife was dying, and at that point, I believed my priority was my family, rather than my church.”

“I agree with that, and it was noble of you to sacrifice your career for your family. But what about now? I’ve had several churches inquire about you and would willingly call you to become their leader.”

“I’ve had churches contact me, but not one of them can come close to paying me the salary I’m receiving at the bank. And I’m not being mercenary—I’ve never demanded anything from a church—but my debts have accumulated to such an extent that if I don’t pay them, I’ll have to declare bankruptcy and end up losing our home.”

“It’s obvious to me, Mark, that you’re placing your trust in the wrong security. You’ve been a pastor long enough to know that God meets the needs of His people. Trust Him for the future, not the security of a large salary.”

Bitterly, Mark said, “I trusted Him for everything, but when He forgot Mark Tanner and his family, I had to turn elsewhere.”

Over the girls’ chatter, Alice heard an audible moan from Reverend Astor. “If I hadn’t heard it from your own mouth, I wouldn’t believe you made that statement. Don’t let your troubles overwhelm you.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, “I don’t know why I said such a thing—I really don’t believe it. It’s just that I’m having trouble coping with my own life right now, and I don’t believe I’m capable of dealing with the needs of a church congregation.”

Reverend Astor put his arms around Mark’s shoulders. “I know you’ve had a difficult time, Mark, but you’ll come out of it a better man. Remember Job’s example. He had a lot of trouble, but he kept his faith in God’s goodness through it all.”

“My friend, I’ve read the book of Job so much in the last two years that those pages in my Bible are almost threadbare. There’s hardly a day, I haven’t voiced Job’s words, “But he knoweth the way that I take: when he has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.”

“God bless you, Mark,” Reverend Astor said. “I’ll continue to keep you in my prayers.”

When Mark again walked by Alice’s side, in a low voice, he said, “I suppose you heard the raking over the coals I just had.”

Alice nodded. “I couldn’t keep from hearing. I’m sorry, Mark—try to forget it. Be happy for Kristin tonight.”

“I can’t forget it. I know I’m not fulfilling God’s will for my life, and it’s making me miserable.”

His eyes mirrored the anguish reflected in his words, and in spite of herself, Alice lifted a hand and touched his cheek. “One of my grandfather’s favorite sayings was, ‘The sky is the darkest just before the dawn.’ Dawn will come for you before long.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand as she lowered it from his face. “The darkness has lifted a lot in the past three weeks,” he said meaningfully.

On their way home from the camp, Mark was unusually quiet. Alice chose to sit in the back seat to give Kristin an opportunity to talk to her father, but eventually both Eddie and Kristin went to sleep. Alice made no effort to engage Mark in conversation, for she suspected he was wrestling with God much as Jacob in the Old Testament had done when he ran away from his brother’s wrath. If Mark Tanner had been the powerful voice for God that so many people believed he was, then God wasn’t going to release this man from the vows of service he’d taken without a mighty struggle. While Mark struggled, Alice prayed that God would once again bring peace to Mark’s heart, inspire him to accept a renewed call to ministry, and that his financial burden would be eased.

Alice believed that God often expected an individual to put wings to her own prayers. Only God could help Mark with his spiritual needs, but she had the means to alleviate Mark’s financial burden. Was it the right thing to do? She couldn’t decide.

When Mark turned into his driveway, Kristin stirred as the garage door lifted and the light came on, but Eddie still slept soundly. Mark cast a fond look at his son. “Don’t waken him,” he said. “I’ll carry him upstairs and put him to bed.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.