“If I can help, you know I will,”
Richard said gently.

He sounded sincere. Melissa was tempted to confide in him, to share her troubles, but she held back. “Thanks, Mr. McNeil.”

“You used to call me Richard.”

“And you used to call me brat.”

He chuckled. “Not to your face.”

She smiled for the first time in days. “No, not to my face, but I knew you disapproved of me.”

Turning in his seat to face her, he said, “I never disapproved of you, Melissa, but sometimes I disapproved of the things you did.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “The wildest Hamilton kid has a news flash for you, Richard. Recently I’ve done a lot of things you wouldn’t approve of. Making mistakes seems to have become my forte.”

“People can change, Melissa. It’s not too late.”

“I hope you’re right.”

DAVIS LANDING:

Nothing is stronger than a family’s love

PATRICIA DAVIDS

was born and raised in the farm and ranch country of central Kansas. As a tomboy with four brothers, Pat spent an idyllic childhood where horses, softball, church activities and books formed the foundations of her rich imagination. Today Pat works as an R.N. in the NICU, spoils her grandkids and tries to find time to write down the stories roaming around in her head. She is president of her local RWA chapter and believes that helping new writers learn the craft is the best way to repay the people who helped her. After seven years of writing, she sold her first book to Steeple Hill in June of 2004. Dreams do come true—as long as you chase after them with hard work, determination and faith.

Prodigal Daughter

Patricia Davids

To my daughter, Kathy, with all my love.

Thank you for the precious gifts of Joshua and Shantel and for being my best friend.

“There is hope for your future,” declares the Lord,

“and your children will return to their own territory.”

—Jeremiah 31:17

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

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“Y’all be careful up there, sugar.” The elderly woman’s rich Tennessee drawl slid off each word the way warm honey slips off a spoon.

Richard McNeil glanced down at his great-aunt. At eighty-eight, Lettie was still a spry lady who faced life with wit, humor and an abiding love for her family. Today, she wore her favorite pale blue cotton print dress and a thin blue sweater tied over her slightly stooped shoulders. Her snow-white hair was styled into old-fashioned waves, and she had a death grip on the side of the rickety folding ladder he stood on.

“I’ll be fine, Aunt Lettie, but maybe you should move away…just in case.”

She scurried to the other side of the camel back sofa with amazing speed for a woman her age.

“If you fall, you’re likely to lie on this floor until the cows come home ’cause there’s no way I can be picking up a man your size.”

Richard replaced the burned-out light in the high ceiling fan and stepped down with a sigh of relief. He had lost a good twenty pounds after his doctor took him to task, but his six-foot-two-inch frame still carried plenty of muscle. The antique stepladder his great-aunt had pulled from the depths of her hall closet for the occasion had creaked and groaned, but held—this time. He would see that she had it replaced with a sturdy new one before the next bulb died.

“And the Lord said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was. Thank you, my boy. That surely will help these old eyes to see the Good Book again.”

“My pleasure, Aunt Lettie. Is there anything else I can do while I’m here?” He resisted the urge to glance at his watch. He enjoyed Wednesday afternoons with Aunt Lettie, but each time he came to visit, she would find excuse after excuse to keep him from leaving. She was lonely, he understood that. More than once over the years, he had tried to convince her to move into a retirement home where she would have the company of folks her own age.

Lettie stubbornly refused to budge from the apartment over the shop in downtown Hickory Mills, Tennessee, that had once belonged to her and her husband. Their furniture store had long since closed and the space downstairs had been sold and converted into a shoe store, but Lettie wouldn’t budge from her home. She always said that she had lived here for seventy years and the only way she was leaving was in a pine box. When it came to stubbornness, the good Lord had broken the mold after He fashioned Lettie Corbet McNeil.

Glancing around, Richard had to admit her home was cozy. The high, molded plaster ceilings made the place feel spacious while the tall arched windows with white lace curtains let in plenty of sunshine. Their gleaming panes were reflected in the polished surface of the cherrywood sideboard with its brass candlesticks and artful arrangement of old china plates and figurines. All of her antique furnishings shone with loving care, from the gilt-and-black-lacquer Regency writing desk in the corner to the massive oak pedestal dinning table with its ball-and-claw feet.

His great-aunt was, he realized, very like the things she owned—a beautifully preserved part of a bygone era.

The tiny woman laid a hand on her cheek and tapped gently as she considered what needed repairs. “Let me see. The front door gets to squeaking something awful when the humidity is high.”

“I oiled it when I first came today.”

“Oh, that’s right, you did. Well, I reckon that’s all there is, but you don’t have to run off, do you?”

“I need to get back to the office.”

“Don’t you work half days on Wednesday?”

“Things have been a bit hectic lately. I have some paperwork to catch up on.”

“Your papa would be so proud to see you in that fancy place over in Davis Landing. You might have come from humble beginnings in Hickory Mills, but you’ve made your mark in the world. And that house of yours! My, my! It’s big enough to hold a dozen young’uns.”

“It feels crowded these days.”

“How is your sister getting along? Such a sad thing, her house catching fire like that. ’Twas a blessing from the Lord that no one got hurt.”

“Angela and Dave are doing okay. The girls are adjusting, but it’s been hard on them. The renovations on their house should be done in another two months. I was glad to give them a place to stay, but I do miss my peace and quiet. Angela said to tell you that she and the girls will be over to visit on Saturday, as usual.” He picked up his suit jacket from where it lay folded over the arm of the sofa and slipped it on.

“I’ll be glad for their company, that’s for sure. I reckon having those two little girls living with you is making you wish you had a family of your own. It’s long past time you settled down and got married. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“I’m thirty-four. You make it sound like I’ve got one foot in the grave.”

She set her hands on her hips and leaned back to look up at him. “Like I said—long past time.”

He leaned down and kissed her wrinkled cheek. “I’ll get married when I find a girl who can bake a pecan pie as good as yours and not before.”

“Oh, go on! Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I was hoping it would get me one more piece of pie.”

“You take the rest of it home with you for those girls. And mind you don’t go eatin’ more than your share on the way.”

Ten minutes later, Richard sat behind the wheel of his black Mercedes in downtown Hickory Mills and switched on his windshield wipers as drizzle began to fall from the leaden sky. If only he could have left Lettie’s fifteen minutes earlier, he would have missed the jam of traffic that accompanied the local dockworkers getting off shift and the arrival of the afternoon bus. Visiting with Lettie was always a high point in his week, but he hated wasting time in traffic.

As he waited impatiently behind two taxis loading baggage and passengers, he noticed the Collin’s Drugstore across the street was for sale.

The tall window cases were bare except for the red-and-white For Sale sign taped to the glass. He had worked there as a stock boy through most of high school. Several other stores on the block had closed over the past few years and hadn’t found new owners. Graffiti marred the cinder block wall beside the bus station and trash littered the alley. It was sad to see his old neighborhood going downhill.

His cell phone rang and interrupted his musing. He pulled it from his pocket. His secretary’s quiet voice claimed his attention.

“Mr. Delaney is here to see you, sir.”

“Delaney? He doesn’t have an appointment today.”

“I told him that, sir.” Margaret Woodrow’s voice dropped even lower. “He insists you said it would be all right to just drop by any old time and add a codicil to his will.”

Richard chuckled. “He probably wants to disinherit his ungrateful nephew again. Or is he adding him back? I can’t remember—he’s changed it so many times. All right, Margaret. I’m still in Hickory Mills. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. If he can wait, I’ll see him.”

He tucked his cell phone back in his pocket. The line of traffic hadn’t moved, but at least the other lane was clear. He checked in his rearview mirror before pulling out and stopped short. Was that Melissa Hamilton leaving the bus station?

Turning his head to get a better view, he saw that he was right. She walked past him to the street corner. There, she set down her black duffel bag and raised a hand to sweep her long blond hair back over her shoulder.

She certainly was as lovely as ever. The overcast sky couldn’t dim the taffy and honey brightness of her thick hair. It flowed in rippling waves almost to the center of her back. She was dressed in a flared skirt with big yellow sunflowers on a red background and a yellow blouse with short puff sleeves. Over her arms she had draped a red shawl with a yellow fringe. Pulling the flimsy shawl up to cover her shoulders, she shivered and turned her back to the wind. The late-October air definitely had a chill in it. As he watched her, the rain began in earnest. She glanced up, then lifted her shawl to cover her head.

Richard frowned. What on earth was the daughter of Wallace Hamilton doing coming into town on the bus?

Not that it mattered how she got here. The important thing was that she was home again. Wallace and Nora had both been worried sick about their youngest child. Melissa had left town with her boyfriend months ago and no one had heard from her since. That in itself was bad enough, but to disappear when her father was seriously ill seemed totally selfish. As the baby of the Hamilton family, she had always been overindulged and spoiled, but this time she had gone too far.

Wallace’s publishing firm, Hamilton Media, was one of Richard’s most important clients, but more than that, Wallace and Nora were his friends. He knew what a strain Wallace’s leukemia and bone marrow transplant had put on the man and his family. That Melissa had run off without a word hadn’t set well with Richard and a lot of other people.

He had always hoped the lovable but wayward girl would come around and grow up into a responsible adult like the rest of the Hamilton kids, but maybe he had been wrong about her.

He watched as she tried to hail a cab, but the taxis in line already had fares. She looked around as if she didn’t know what to do next. Suddenly, he was struck by how fragile and bewildered she looked.

Vivacious and flirty was the way he would have described Melissa five months ago. She had always used her charm, including batting those big brown eyes at men, in order to get her way. Now, the woman shivering on the corner simply looked tired and lost.

It only took him a moment to decide what to do next. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped Melissa Hamilton out of a jam and it wasn’t likely to be the last. He pulled out around the taxis and stopped at the corner in front of her. He pressed the electric button and the passenger-side window slid open. He leaned across the seat and called out. “Melissa, do you need a ride?”

Melissa jumped, startled by the sound of someone calling her name. She clutched her shawl more tightly and leaned down to look in the car that had pulled up beside her. Her father’s attorney sat behind the wheel of a shiny, black sedan.

She had to admit that Richard McNeil looked decidedly handsome in his charcoal-gray tailored suit and white button-down dress shirt minus a tie. It had always amazed her how such a big man could wear his clothes so well. With his rugged good looks, black hair and fabulous bright blue eyes, it wasn’t surprising that she had suffered a crush on him in her teenage years. Maybe she still harbored a trace of it, she thought, if she were being honest with herself.

Of all the people who knew her family, why did Richard McNeil have to be the one to see her slinking back into town?

“Mr. McNeil, what are you doing here?”

“It looks like I’m offering you a lift.”

She hesitated, not sure what to do next. Glancing around, she saw that no empty taxi had appeared. Waiting for one would only prolong the inevitable encounter with her sister. She took a step toward the car. “I hate to be any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m on my way back to my office, but I can drop you off at your home if you like.”

She bit her lip and hesitated, then said, “Could you drop me off at my sister Amy’s instead?”

“Sure thing. Hop in before you get any wetter.” A flurry of raindrops accompanied his words.

“All right. If you’re sure it isn’t any trouble.” She picked up her bag, opened the door and slid into the front seat. Instantly, she was engulfed by the masculine scent of his aftershave, the smell of leather upholstery and the aroma of…was that pecan pie? Her stomach did a flip-flop.

“I can put your bag in the trunk,” he offered.

“No, this is fine. Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her duffel and held it tightly in her lap, hoping to hide her pregnancy for a little while longer. At five months she wasn’t showing much, but it wouldn’t be long before even her full skirt and baggy peasant blouse wouldn’t conceal how far Wallace Hamilton’s youngest daughter had fallen.

She asked, “Do I smell pecan pie?”

“You do. My great-aunt Lettie sent one home with me. It’s on the back seat if you’d like a piece.”

“No thanks.” Her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t tell if she was hungry or if she was going to be sick again. Either way, the thought of pie wasn’t appealing. She rolled her window down an inch to let in some fresh air.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her in concern.

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but she didn’t want to elaborate on the cause. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then looked straight ahead. As he pulled out into traffic, Melissa rode in silence. After all, what could she say to defend the way she had acted? She glanced at him several more times. His face was set in stern lines, making her feel nervous and ill at ease even though she had known the man since she was eleven.

Face it, Melissa. It’s time to stop procrastinating. She knew why he was upset. “Have you seen my dad lately?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He didn’t quite mask the edge of sarcasm in his voice.

Here it was, the conversation she had been dreading. “I know what I did wasn’t right, but I do love my father, and I am worried about him.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Yeah, well things aren’t always what they seem, are they?” He wouldn’t understand the irrational panic that swept over her at the very thought of seeing her father in a hospital bed. No one understood it. Least of all Melissa herself.

She had tried to visit when her father was first admitted. She had made it to the wide doorway of the stark glass-and-steel building, but she couldn’t make herself go in. She had wanted to—but she couldn’t. If she had needed to save her own life by walking through those doors, she would have died on the sidewalk. Instead, she had run to Dean and kept on running. Until now.

Richard cast her a puzzled glance. Instead of the scolding she expected, he said, “I’m sorry if I sound like I’m condemning you. Your parents and your brothers and sisters have been very worried about you.”

“I know. How is Daddy?”

“He’s back in the hospital, but he’s doing a little better. They were able to find a bone marrow donor for him and it looks like the graft is working. He’s had a few setbacks, including a nasty infection his doctors have been fighting, but your mother is hopeful that he’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s Mom. The family’s eternal optimist.”

“Your mother relies on her strong faith, Melissa. That’s what has gotten her through this.”

“People always give God credit for getting them through the bad times. Kind of funny, isn’t it, when He gave them the bad times to start with.” Melissa didn’t try to conceal the bitterness in her words.

He cleared his throat once, then asked, “Are you back in town to stay or is this merely a visit?”

“I’m not sure.” Besides her parents, she had three brothers and two sisters who would soon know about her condition. No doubt they were all angry with her for running away when their father was ill and the family was in such turmoil. For an instant, she considered getting out of the car and heading back to the bus station. It would be easy to just ride away from the painful confrontations ahead of her, but her seldom-used common sense kicked in.

A hundred and twenty-four dollars was all she had left of the money her sister, Amy, had sent. It wouldn’t last long. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to get a place to live while she looked for a job.

“I take it things aren’t going too well for you and…what is his name?”

“Dean Orton. No, things aren’t going well for us.”

That had to be the understatement of the century. She was twenty-three years old, single and pregnant. She had no money, no job and her baby’s father was long gone.

It wasn’t fair. All she had wanted was a life free of the expectations tied to being the daughter of Wallace Hamilton. She thought Dean would give her that life. She desperately wanted to love him and be loved in return. His dreams of making it big with his rock band had sounded exciting and exotic.

If he had been surprised by her sudden offer to travel on tour with him, he hid it well. Life on the road with Dean was a far cry from her family’s successful publishing business and the strict Southern upbringing she had known.

Only Dean hadn’t really loved her. All he wanted was a piece of the Hamilton fortune. When she realized that, she had been heartbroken. And she discovered that having morning sickness in a run-down motel on the outskirts of Detroit wasn’t exotic at all.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for the two of you,” Richard said, turning on to Mill Road and heading toward the bridge that led to Davis Landing.

She scowled at him. “You don’t sound sorry at all.”

“Melissa, I’ve known you since you were a kid. I play golf with your dad, and your mother invites me to dinner. I’m a friend of the family, and that means all of the family. I care about you and your happiness.” The rain had stopped and he turned off his wipers.

“I know,” she admitted, turning to stare out the window. “Things are just so messed-up right now.”

The sounds of the tires changed as the car rolled across the bridge spanning the Cumberland River as it snaked its way through the beautiful tree-covered hills of Tennessee. Upriver she could see the hills were ablaze with fall colors of gold and scarlet, but even their beauty didn’t lift her spirits. Below her, Melissa watched two paddle wheelers moving with stately grace as they steamed past each other. Their stern paddles churned the gray river water into white latte foam behind them.

On board, their cargo of tourists hung over the pristine white wooden rails festooned with swags of red, white and blue as they enjoyed a trip back in time. The boats were from Nashville and Davis Landing was one of several stops on their itinerary. How many times as a child had she begged her father to take her on board one of them? No matter how many times he had relented and agreed, she had never tired of the ride. What she wouldn’t give to go back to those carefree days.

Richard reached over and laid a hand on hers. “I, for one, am glad you decided to come back, Melissa. Your family needs you. I don’t know how much you know about what’s been going on since you left.”

“I spoke with Amy not long ago. She sort of filled me in. I know that Jeremy is only our half brother.” She cast Richard a sidelong glance. As the family attorney, had he been privy to that secret before the rest of them?

He said, “It came as a shock to everyone. Especially to Jeremy.”

Another major understatement. “No kidding. Did you know that Mother was pregnant when she met Dad?”

“No, they never told me. It wasn’t until your father became so ill that anyone knew. He’d accepted Jeremy as his own child. He told me keeping the secret was his decision. I think he knows now that it wasn’t a very wise one.”

The car left the bridge and entered the business district of Davis Landing. Old redbrick-fronted stores and black iron lampposts added to the town’s quaint turn-of-the-century charm. Just ahead, she saw the three-story brick office building that housed her family’s business, Hamilton Media. Both the Davis Landing Dispatch newspaper and the Nashville Living magazine had offices there.

Her great-grandfather had started the paper as a local weekly in the 1920s. Under the sound business hands of both her grandfather and then her father, the business had grown to a daily paper and now included a monthly lifestyle magazine that enjoyed tremendous success locally and across the region. Except for her brother, Chris, who had decided to become a cop, all of the Hamilton children had worked alongside their father in the family business.

“Amy said that Jeremy and Dad had a falling-out, that Jeremy quit.” As the company’s vice president, her oldest brother, Jeremy, had been her Dad’s right-hand man and everyone assumed he would take over the company when the time came. Now what would happen? Would her brother, Tim, as second in line, step in to run both the paper and the magazine?

Richard nodded. “That’s true. Apparently Jeremy and Tim had quite a fight about it. To make matters worse, the story was leaked to the Observer.”

“I imagine they had a field day with that. The Observer loves a good scandal and they’ve been trying to put Hamilton Media out of business for years.”

“A smear campaign won’t accomplish that.”

“You’re our attorney. Why don’t we sue them?”

“Because what they printed was true.”

She waved aside his comment. “Oh, that’s just a technicality.”

“It’s an important one in court. We were worried about how the news leak would affect your father, but he’s holding up well.”

“What about Mom? She must feel like her reputation is in shreds.” Melissa knew exactly how that felt.

“Your mother’s answer was that if people who didn’t know her wanted to talk, she couldn’t stop them. She said the only thing that matters is how she is living her life today—not what she did thirty-five years ago. She’s kept her head high. Your mother is a true lady.”

“Now I’m back to add to their troubles.” Melissa wondered if she would be able to hold her head up when her condition became known.

“What’s wrong, Melissa?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Okay, it’s not, but it’s not something I can talk about right now.”

“If I can help, you know I will,” he said gently.

He sounded sincere. She was tempted to confide in him, to share her troubles, but she held back. “Thanks, Mr. McNeil.”

“You used to call me Richard.”

“And you used to call me a brat.”

He chuckled. “Not to your face.”

She smiled for the first time in days. “No, not to my face, but I knew you disapproved of me.”

He stopped the car in front of the entrance to the Enclave, an upscale condominium not far from the downtown area. Turning in his seat to face her, he said, “I never disapproved of you, Melissa, but sometimes I disapproved of the things you did.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looked up at the building where three of her siblings made their homes. “The wildest Hamilton kid has a news flash for you, Richard. Recently, I’ve done a lot of things you wouldn’t approve of. Making mistakes seems to have become my forte.”

“People can change, Melissa. It’s not too late.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am. Just take it one small step at a time. The Lord will carry your burdens for you if you let Him.”

She chose not to offend him by offering an opinion on his beliefs. He was welcome to them; she just didn’t share them anymore. She pushed open the door of his car and stepped out. Hefting her duffel bag over her shoulder, she leaned down and said, “Thanks for the lift, and I’d like to ask for one more favor.”

“Certainly, if I can.”

“Please don’t tell my parents that you’ve seen me.”

“Very well, but may I ask why?”

“I’ve got to make some decisions before I see them. But don’t worry, I’ll see them soon.”

“All right. Take care of yourself, Melissa.”

“I will. Goodbye.”

As he drove away, Melissa felt as if her only friend were leaving her in front of the lion’s den. Facing the building, she looked up at the six-story structure with renewed qualms about the wisdom of this move.

“The truth is, I don’t have much in the way of options,” she muttered.

She squared her shoulders and walked through the front doors. The uniform-clad guard on duty was one who knew her on sight. He nodded in her direction, then went back to reading the paper. The Observer, she noticed, not her family’s paper, the Dispatch. Even burly security guards liked a little scandal, it seemed.

She took the elevator to the fourth floor and quickly found Amy’s apartment. Standing in front of her sister’s door, a dozen doubts flew through Melissa’s mind. What if Amy wouldn’t let her stay? What if she insisted on telling Mom and Dad about the baby? What if none of the family wanted her back?

“One small step at a time, Melissa. That’s all you have to do,” she whispered, remembering Richard’s words.

Taking a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her stomach, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Chapter Two

Melissa rapped on the door again, then waited, fighting down the urge to run. She was the bad penny, returning to bring more trouble to her already overburdened family. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She took a step back, but the door opened before she could vanish.

Amy stood framed in the doorway, looking at first startled, then genuinely pleased. She grinned and Melissa knew she had made the right decision after all. She took a step toward Amy and found herself enveloped in a warm and welcoming hug. She cherished the feeling as she returned her sister’s embrace.

A second later, Amy drew away but kept her hands on Melissa’s shoulders. Her hug was immediately followed by a firm shake. “It’s about time. Where have you been? When you didn’t show up after I sent you money, I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“I did change my mind. About a dozen times, and then I changed it back again. I wasn’t sure anyone would want to see me after the way I took off.”

“Of course we want you home. Everyone has been worried sick about you, Mom most of all.”

“How is she?”

“Holding up. You know Mom. She’s the Rock of Gibraltar in our family.”

“She is that.” Melissa’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And Daddy, how is he?”

“He’s had a hard time of it. He’s lost weight and he’s pale but he’s as stubborn and determined as ever. It hurt him when you ran off with Dean.”

“You don’t have to tell me that Daddy doesn’t like Dean. I think that was partly the reason I started going out with him.”

“Now that you’re back, you should go see Dad.”

Shaking her head, Melissa looked away. “I can’t. Not yet.”

Amy took Melissa’s hand. “Look at me, standing here scolding you instead of inviting you in. Come on, I have some people I want you to meet.”

Melissa hesitated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company. I should have called first. I’m not feeling up to meeting strangers.”

“These people aren’t strangers. They’re going to be part of your family, too.”

Amy pulled Melissa inside and steered her toward the condo’s spacious kitchen. A man and a young boy rose to their feet beside the table strewn with pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

“Bryan, Dylan, I’d like you to meet my sister Melissa. Melissa, this is Bryan Healey and his son Dylan.”

Melissa was bewildered to hear both love and pride in her sister’s voice as she introduced the pair. The man’s name sounded familiar. She searched her memory and then asked in surprise, “The same Bryan Healey you dated in high school?”

“The very same,” he admitted with an engaging grin.

Taking a closer look at Bryan, Melissa saw a man of about thirty with thick auburn hair. His deep brown eyes assessed her in return and she had the sinking feeling that he knew all about her.

“Hello, Melissa. I’m pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand and she took it. His handshake was firm and his voice was definitely friendly, no matter what he was thinking.

The boy with tousled auburn hair, glasses and freckles across his nose wormed his way in front of his dad and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Dylan. I’m five. Amy is going to marry my daddy and be my mother ’cause my real mom is in heaven. Do you wanna help put our puzzle together?”

Melissa turned her startled gaze to Amy. “What?”

Amy blushed but nodded. “That wasn’t exactly how I intended to tell you, but yes, it’s true. Bryan and I are engaged.”

Melissa fought down a stab of jealousy. She loved her big sister and wanted her to be happy, but this news coming so soon on the heels of her own unhappiness was bittersweet. She gave Amy a quick hug. “Congratulations. Wow, both you and Heather have gotten engaged.”

Amy took a deep breath. “And someone else.”

Puzzled, Melissa waited for more of an explanation.

Bryan laid a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “I think Dylan and I will take off. You and your sister have a lot of catching up to do. Come on, son.”

“Aw, do we have to?”

“Yes,” he said. “Melissa has been out of the loop for a while and it’s going to take some time to get her up to speed.”

“What’s a loop? Do we got a loop, Dad?”

“Never mind. Go get your jacket.” Bryan bent to place a quick kiss on Amy’s cheek. “Call me later.”

“I will, and thank you.”

After he and Dylan left, Melissa sank onto Amy’s plush cream-colored damask sofa. “Okay, sis, bring me up to speed.”

Amy swept her chin-length blond hair back behind her ears. “The news about the rest of the family can wait. How are you? You sounded so distraught when you called.”

“I was, but I’m better now. We can talk about me later. Tell me what the others have been up to.”

“My sister, Melissa, doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s a first. All right, but I’m not exactly sure where to start.”

“Start with Jeremy. How is he? Where is he?”

“He called not long ago. I think I told you he left to go looking for his biological father’s family. He has located his grandparents in Florida.”

“This is so totally strange. Out of all of us, Jeremy is the most like Dad.”

“I know. I was as stunned as everyone else, but truthfully, it hasn’t changed the way I feel about him one bit. He’s still our brother.”

“You’re so right, but it makes me wonder what else Mom and Dad haven’t told us. You implied that you and Heather weren’t the only ones to get engaged. Who else has taken the plunge?”

“The twins started it all.”

She stared at her sister in shock. “Heather and Chris? No way. To whom?”

“Heather is engaged to Ethan Danes.”

“I know you said Ethan on the phone, but do you mean she landed that hunky photographer at the magazine? How did that happen? Heather is so shy, she practically blends into the wallpaper.”

“Not anymore. She received an amazing makeover the same day Ellen Manning, the magazine’s now ex-makeover expert, took off for greener pastures. You wouldn’t believe the change in Heather. She has really come out of her shell. I know it wasn’t easy for her, growing up between us.”

“Between the homecoming queen and the drama queen, you mean?”

Amy chuckled. “Something like that. Heather isn’t as outgoing as you or I, but she has a heart of gold. That’s what Ethan fell in love with, not her new look.”

“And Chris?”

“That is a slightly longer story. I don’t know if you remember the woman reporter the paper hired a few months before you left, Felicity Simmons?”

“Is she the one with long, red hair?”

“That’s her. She was working on a story about political corruption when she began receiving threats. At first she blew it off, but it soon became apparent that she had a stalker.”

“Let me guess. Brother Chris rides in on a white horse and saves the damsel in distress.”

“I think it was his police cruiser, not a horse, but you’ve got the picture. It turns out that an aide to Mayor Whitmore had been taking payoffs from a local developer in a land scheme. When Felicity got too close to the truth, he tried to scare her away. When that didn’t work, he tried to kidnap her.”

“Such wild goings-on in peaceful old Davis Landing. Who would have thought it? Is anyone else in the family getting married?”

“Not at the moment, but Tim is dating Dawn Leroux.”

“His administrative assistant?”

“That’s right. I think Mom is hearing more wedding bells, but there hasn’t been anything official. Enough about our siblings. I want to talk about you.”

“There isn’t much to talk about. I messed up again, only this time in a big way.”

“Tell me what happened. You weren’t making a lot of sense when you called.”

“I know. By the way, thanks for wiring me the money. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. It meant a lot to me. I wasn’t sure anyone would want me back after this last stunt.”

“Of course we want you here. We’re your family. We love you. I told everyone you had called and they were all glad you were okay.”

Melissa looked at her sister in sudden panic. “You didn’t tell them I was pregnant, did you?”

“Of course not. You asked me not to say anything and I didn’t. But you should go see Mom, at least.”

“I will. In a day or two.”

“Good. Now, tell me about Dean.”

Tears stung Melissa’s eyes. “I thought he loved me. I wanted…oh, I don’t know what I wanted. Maybe to be someone other than Melissa Hamilton.

“At first Dean seemed genuinely happy about the baby. It wasn’t until he started talking about how much money my ‘old man’ would shell out for his grandkid that I started to see Dean for what he was. Someone who wanted me only because I was Wallace Hamilton’s daughter. Dean didn’t have stars in his eyes when he looked at me, he had dollar signs.”

“I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.”

“Once I convinced him that my stern, Southern father wasn’t going to give his pregnant, runaway daughter a dime, Dean couldn’t leave fast enough.”

She didn’t tell her sister about the way Dean had thrown a wad of money at her and told her to “Get rid of it.” She didn’t mention how she spent the money paying for another week in the same motel, or about the days and nights she had waited in that dingy place hoping Dean would change his mind and come back for her. Even now, she shuddered to recall the fear and loneliness that kept her pinned in that small room with the snowy TV, peeling, faded purple wallpaper and black mildew climbing the tiles around the chipped bathtub.

After a week, she accepted the fact that he was gone for good. There had been nothing left to do but pack her few belongings and board a bus.

Amy took Melissa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad you came home.”

Melissa nodded, too choked by emotion to speak.

Amy rose from the sofa. “Why don’t I fix us a cup of tea?”

Without waiting for a reply, she moved to the kitchen and Melissa had a few minutes to compose herself. She was so much more emotional of late. One minute she was fine and the next she found herself crying a river. It had to be the pregnancy. She certainly didn’t intend to shed one more tear over Dean.

Leaning her head back on the sofa, Melissa closed her eyes. She was so tired. Her nerves had been strung tighter than fiddle strings all day. She needn’t have worried. Her big sister was happy to see her in spite of the trouble she brought. Maybe being home wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Melissa opened her eyes and wondered where she was. Pushing her hair out of her face, she struggled to sit up. Both her neck and her back protested the change in position. The afghan covering her slid to the floor and she remembered she was at her sister’s condo.

The living room was dark except for a single lamp glowing softly on the cherrywood desk in the corner of the room. She squinted at the clock on the wall. It said six-thirty.

The darkness beyond the window had to mean it was six-thirty in the morning. Had she really slept away half the day and all of the night?

Rising, she stretched away her aches, then wiggled her toes and wondered where Amy had stashed her shoes. Looking around, she saw them peeking from under the Monet-styled throw her sister had used to cover her. She folded the blanket, donned her clogs and headed for the kitchen. Now, she was definitely hungry.

A quick survey of the fridge netted her cream cheese and blueberry bagels. She popped the bagels in the toaster, set the kettle on to boil and happily discovered her favorite brand of tea bags in the cupboard beside the sink. She inhaled their pungent fragrance and was instantly struck by memories of herself, her sisters and her mother all enjoying morning tea on the terrace at home.

“You’re up early.” Amy stood in the kitchen door. Her normally immaculate hair had run amok in the night and the pink terry cloth bathrobe over her pajamas had seen better days.

Melissa felt a stab of guilt. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, I have to go into the office early today. How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think. I couldn’t believe I was so tired, but I’m as hungry as a horse.”

“I’d offer to make breakfast, but I see you’ve helped yourself. Will you fix me a cup of tea while you’re at it?”

“I was just thinking about how we used to join Mom on the terrace for tea in the mornings. Dad would be bellowing from inside the house, ‘Nora, where’s my briefcase?’ Mom would smile and say, ‘It’s on the hall table. Right where you left it, Wallace.’ Then he would come out and give us all a kiss before he left for the office and tell us how pretty we were, but you knew he was really telling Mom how pretty she was.”

Amy slipped her arm around Melissa’s shoulders. “There will be plenty of good times with Mom and Dad again.”

“I hope so.”

“Have faith. I don’t believe the Lord is ready to take our dad. I think He has other plans for him.”

“I wish I shared your belief, but I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Is that because of Jennifer?”

Jennifer Wilson had been Melissa’s best friend since kindergarten. She had been witty and funny—always laughing and often getting them both into trouble. Then, the year Jenny turned sixteen, she died of cancer, and Melissa had been by her side.

Melissa nodded, the ache of grief suddenly sharper than it had been in a long time. “God doesn’t care how good someone is or how hard you pray. Dead is dead.”

“Oh, honey. You are so wrong about that. We can’t know what God has planned for any of us, but He loves us. And dead isn’t dead. Death is simply crossing over to a better place where we get to meet Jesus face-to-face.”

Melissa used the whistling kettle as an excuse to end the conversation. “Looks like the water is ready. Do you want cream or sugar in your tea?”

Amy hesitated, but seemed to understand that Melissa wanted to change the subject. “A little cream.”

The conversation lagged until the women were seated at the table. Melissa finished half her bagel before Amy spoke again.

“What are your plans, Melissa?”

“I plan to finish the rest of my breakfast.”

“I’m serious.”

“The funny part is, so am I. I can’t think beyond the next fifteen minutes, let alone make plans for my future.”

“You have someone else’s future to think about.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not mother material. I mean, look at me! I can’t take care of myself. I’m a college dropout. I’ve always lived at home. I’ve never had to take care of anyone. I don’t even have a job.” Melissa’s bagel suddenly lost its appeal. She laid it on her plate, then picked up her spoon and stirred the contents of her cup.

“You have a job.”

She glanced at Amy and raised one eyebrow. “I do?”

“Dad wouldn’t let Tim fill your position at the paper. Instead, he placed you on indefinite leave. You still have a job—one with benefits, like health insurance, which will come in very handy.”

“Do you see what I mean? I never even thought about insurance.”

Amy reached across the table and laid a hand on Melissa’s arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had a lot on your mind. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“I wish none of this had happened. I wish Dad wasn’t sick and I wish I’d never met Dean, or run off with him. I wish I could erase the past six months and go back to being a bored copy aide at the Dispatch, answering phones and compiling paperwork for the editors.”

“Oh, Melissa.”

“It’s not possible. I know, but I wish it were.”

“It’s going to be hard, but you have to start looking ahead.”

Melissa remembered Richard’s advice and nodded. “I need to take things one small step at a time.”

“That’s right.” Amy smiled and took a sip of her tea.

“I guess if I have a job, that’s a start.”

“That’s a good start, although a few things have changed at Hamilton Media that you should know about.”

“Like what? Besides Tim’s running the show now that Jeremy has left. You mentioned Ellen Manning was now the magazine’s ex-makeover expert. I never really liked her anyway. Don’t tell me the Gordons have retired?”

“I doubt you or I will live to see that day. No, Jeremy had to fire our accountant, Curtis Resnick.”

“You’re kidding. They’ve been friends for ages.”

“Curtis was embezzling from us. Because they had been such good friends, Jeremy fired him instead of turning him in to the police. That was really what sparked the dustup between Dad and Jeremy.”

“I see. Poor Jeremy. And poor Tim, to have to take over when things were in such an uproar. How is he handling things?”

“He was pretty tough on the staff, at first. They started calling him Typhoon Tim behind his back, but I have to admit he has found his stride. The business is doing well with him at the helm.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

Amy looked down at her teacup. “Not right at the moment.”

Melissa had the feeling there was more, but she didn’t want to pressure her sister.

Suddenly, Amy looked up and said, “Why don’t you move back home with Mom? The place is certainly big enough.”

The idea was tempting, but somehow Melissa knew that if she did, things were never going to change. She would let her well-meaning family take over more and more of her responsibilities instead of facing them herself. “I think I’d rather get a place of my own.”

“You’re welcome to stay here until you find something. I only have one bedroom, but you’re welcome to the sofa.”

“Thanks. I may have to stay for a little while.”

“Melissa, you haven’t said what you intend to do about the baby.”

“You noticed that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I’ve been thinking about what I should do for months. I know I told you the baby belonged with me, but in my heart, I also know I’m not cut out to be a mother.”

“Have you thought about adoption?”

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“And?”

“I’m not sure. I mean—I may be the pits as a mother, but what if some weirdo gets her or him? You hear horror stories all the time.”

“There is someone at the paper you should talk to. She adopted a child not long ago. I think she might be able to put your mind at ease on that score. But there is something else you need to think about. Dean may be out of the picture as far as you’re concerned, but he has exactly the same rights to your baby as you do.”

“The guy is a jerk.”

“Granted, but jerk or not, he’s the baby’s father. He may have to surrender his rights the same way you will in order to place the child for adoption. Before you make any decisions you need to know where you stand legally. You need to talk to Richard McNeil.”

“Mr. McNeil can see you now, Miss Hamilton.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Woodrow.” Melissa rose from her chair in the reception area and followed Richard’s secretary down a mahogany-paneled hall to his office. Richard stood holding the door open and waiting for her.

“Hello again, Melissa. Come on in.” He indicated one of a pair of burgundy leather chairs that faced his desk. He was wearing another beautifully tailored suit, a dark blue pinstripe with a light blue dress shirt. This time a patterned tie completed the look. The outfit made his eyes seem darker, more intense. Perhaps it was only her imagination.

“I’m thankful you could see me on such short notice.” Melissa took a seat and plucked at the front of her wine-colored velvet tunic. It was another loose-fitting top that she hoped would hide her expanding waistline. She kept her handbag in her lap.

“You said it was important.” Instead of sitting behind the desk, he sat in the chair next to hers.

Melissa’s grip tightened on her handbag until her knuckles whitened. This would be the best thing for her child, but how did she go about telling someone who had known her all her life that she didn’t want her own baby? What would he think?

He leaned forward in the chair and laid a comforting hand over her tightly clenched ones. “Anything you say to me will be kept in the strictest confidence.”

She managed a weak smile. “I know that. After all, you never told anyone I was the culprit behind the Reindeer heists.”

He chuckled and sat back. “No. I never squealed on you. Although how you managed to steal nine of them in one night without getting caught remains a mystery to this day. You weren’t old enough to drive.”

“I borrowed some shopping carts from the Piggy Wiggly parking lot.”

“Ah! And how did you get the deer into the school and dressed in the basketball team’s jerseys?”

“They looked good, didn’t they? The Davis Landing Bucks weren’t winning any games that year. I thought we needed a whole new team. Getting into the building was a bit difficult. Getting them dressed wasn’t hard.”

“I always figured it was an inside job.”

“Remember the night watchman, Mr. Chapman?”

“Don’t tell me that he helped you, after all? I thought the reason you came to me was so that he wouldn’t lose his job.”

“He didn’t exactly help, but he did step out often for a smoke break. He’d leave the gym door propped open sometimes. Once we—I was inside, it was easy to wait until he left to make his rounds again. It didn’t seem fair of the school board to let him go because of my prank.”

“You did the right thing when you called me and confessed that you and Jennifer had stolen Rudolph and his team from the Christmas display in front of the Wilcox home.”

She tipped her head to the side. “I never told you Jennifer was the one who helped me.”

“You two were thick as thieves back then. Who else would have helped you pull off a stunt like that?”

“She always had the coolest ideas.”

“And you were the one who couldn’t let someone else take the blame. So what is this about, Melissa? Not more stolen reindeer, I hope?”

She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see the expression on his face. “I wish that was all. I came today because I need your help.”

“I’m listening.”

There was no way to beat around this bush. She gave up trying and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Three

A long silence met Melissa’s declaration. She chanced a peek at Richard. She expected him to be stunned, but she was surprised to see that he looked…hurt and disappointed. The expression was fleeting. When he met her gaze, he smiled and said, “What kind of help can I give you?”

So far, so good. “I want to find out about adoption.”

“You want to place your baby for adoption?” He looked astounded.

She stared down at her handbag and began to open and close the clasp without noticing what she was doing. “I think it would be the best thing, don’t you?”

Click, click.

“Just because I’ve made a mess of my life is no reason to mess up my kid’s life. Right?”

Click, click.

“I mean, look at me. I’ve only got a job because my daddy owns the paper. I’m a college dropout. I don’t even have a place to live. I’m staying with Amy, but she only has one bedroom and her sofa isn’t that great to sleep on.”

She continued clicking her bag open and shut until Richard placed his large, warm hand over hers and held them still. “Melissa, are you sure about this?”

His touch was so gentle and comforting. She looked into his bright blue eyes filled with kindness and it was as if a dam broke inside her. Her words came out in a rush of emotion. “I’m not sure of anything. I have no idea what I should do. My father is always sure about everything. My mother is the same way. My brothers and my sisters, they all seem to know what they want in life. Even you! You knew you wanted to be a lawyer and that was that.

“What’s wrong with me that I can’t see my way? Why is my life such a fog when everyone around me sees things so clearly? Why am I so different? My family puts up with me because they love me, but I always disappoint them. I’m tired of forever making the wrong choices. I want to start making the right decisions. How do you do it?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Melissa. All I can say is that life isn’t about making one choice and then everything falls into place. I face tough choices all the time. I use my faith as a guide and I try to make the choices I believe God wants me to make. Sometimes I fail.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I try to take an honest look at why I made that decision. Then I try to fix what went wrong.”

“That’s what I want to do. I want to fix what I did wrong.”

“Have you discussed this with your parents?”

She raised her chin. “No. This has to be my decision.”

“That’s true, but this isn’t an easy task. It will require a strong commitment and you will need your family’s support. Have you been to see your father?”

“My sister, Amy, is helping me. I haven’t told anyone else. I’m certainly not ready to have Dad read me the riot act.”

“I think you’re misjudging him.”

“No, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that Dad is going to be furious when he hears this. Oh, he won’t be surprised. He always said I’d come to no good if I didn’t mend my ways. I think that’s what I hate most about this. I ended up proving him right.”

“Nothing has to be decided today, Melissa. Here is what I want you to do. Sleep on this decision. If tomorrow you still feel this is what you want, call me and I’ll help find a suitable couple for the child.”

“But tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I have special hours for special clients. Call me. I’ll be here.”

“Amy mentioned that Dean has a right to the baby and that he could block the adoption.”

“That’s true. As the child’s father, he can.”

“Do we have to tell him about it? He told me to get rid of the baby. He doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

“Many people say things in the heat of the moment that they later regret. Either way, legally, we will need his consent. Do you know how to contact him?”

“I’ll give you the name of his band manager. He should be able to find Dean.”

“Good.” Richard stood and helped Melissa to her feet. Slipping his arm around her shoulder, he gave her a quick hug. “I’m not an adoption attorney, I do corporate law, but I have a good friend who runs an adoption clinic. With his help, I’ll take care of all the legal paperwork. Try not to worry. Everything will work out.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who’s going to look like a hippo in three months.”

Chuckling, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “Courage, Melissa.”

She took a deep breath. “If you insist, I’ll give it a try.”

After Melissa left his office, Richard sat in the black swivel chair behind his desk. Poor kid, she’d really done it this time. He, like most people, had considered her capricious and careless. To hear in her own words how lost and alone she felt pulled at his heartstrings.

She needed someone she could talk to. One of her own family members made the most sense, but he suspected the Hamilton family had just about all they could deal with at the moment. An idea began to form in the back of his mind.

He leaned forward and pressed the intercom. “Margaret, please get my sister on the phone. She should still be at her office at the university.”

“Yes, sir.”

He leaned back and waited. Melissa needed a place to stay and he had an extra bedroom at his home. If Angela and Dave didn’t have any objections, maybe Melissa could stay with them.

Before he got too far into his plan, Margaret buzzed him to let him know his sister was on the phone. He picked up line one. “Hi, Angela. I’m sorry to interrupt you at work. Are you busy? This could wait.”

“I’m swamped, but now is as good a time as any. I was getting ready to call and let you know I’m going to be late again tonight. Do you think the girls will mind pizza?”

“They’ll survive. Do you know what Dave has planned?”

“He said this morning that he would be working late at the house. He’s getting the rest of the electrical lines run tonight so the drywallers can start putting up Sheet-rock tomorrow. What did you need?”

“Do you remember Melissa Hamilton?”

“Certainly. I had her in my English 101 class last year. She was a bright student, but she never seemed to have much focus. Once she turned in the most amazing paper on women writers from the South, but her next piece was terrible. It was as if she didn’t want to succeed. Why do you ask about her?”

“She’s in a bit of trouble and she’s looking for a place to live. If you didn’t mind, I thought I’d offer to let her stay with us while you and Dave are there.”

“It’s your home, of course, but why can’t she stay with her mother? The Hamilton house is bigger than yours.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it, but she has her reasons. I only thought of it because you mentioned hiring someone to help with the kids until your workload lets up. I know that Dave is spending all his free time getting your house repaired. With Melissa living at our place, it might make things easier for you. It’s just an idea.”

“I did like her, and I certainly don’t mind helping someone out. I’ve received more than my fair share of help from friends and family since the fire. It would feel good to give back a little. You’re right, it might make things easier. I’ll talk it over with Dave and give you an answer in the morning.”

“Great. Thanks, sis.”

Richard hung up the phone. His sense of satisfaction was quickly followed by a niggling doubt. Was he helping or hurting Melissa by trying to make things easier for her?

Melissa let herself into Amy’s apartment. Tossing her handbag on the desk, she kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the sofa. Lassitude crept over her and she longed for a nap. A nap at one o’clock in the afternoon? Did being pregnant make everyone exhausted by the middle of the day? How had her mother managed to do this five times? Once with twins, no less!

A single glance at her puffy ankles was enough to convince Melissa she needed to put her feet up. It didn’t take much extra effort to pull the coverlet over her shoulders and settle her head on one of Amy’s bright green throw pillows. The next time she opened her eyes, the clock on the wall said two-thirty and she was starving. Again.

A handful of carrot and celery sticks pilfered from her sister’s refrigerator took the edge off her hunger pangs, but she wanted something more, something substantial. As she surveyed the contents of her sister’s cupboards, fridge and freezer, Melissa settled on a plan of action. Lasagna, garlic toast and a fresh salad would make a wonderful dinner. Never one to do much cooking, Melissa searched for and found a cookbook with full color photos of the finished product.

Her mother was fond of saying, “If you can read, you can cook.” Usually she had been talking to the boys at Sunday dinner when they started complaining about their bachelor existences and living off takeout. Well, there was no time like the present to test her mother’s theory. Wouldn’t Amy be surprised when she came home?

Setting to work with a sudden burst of energy, Melissa diced, chopped and simmered away the rest of the afternoon. By five-thirty the apartment was filled with the smells of tomato sauce, oregano, basil and baking bread. She was setting the table when she heard Amy’s key in the door.

Amy walked in and stopped short. “I must be in the wrong apartment. Something smells wonderful.”

“Surprise! I thought I would make dinner to say thanks for putting me up—and for putting up with me.”

“Melissa, I didn’t even know you could cook.”

“You’d better reserve judgment until after you taste it. The bread is sort of burned on the bottom and the tomato sauce didn’t thicken the way the recipe said it would.”

“I’m still impressed. Let me change and call Bryan first.”

Melissa’s pride in her accomplishment plummeted. “You have plans for tonight, don’t you? Of course you do. It’s Friday.”

“Bryan had asked me out, but he’ll understand.”

Melissa plopped into one of the padded Windsor chairs that surrounded Amy’s table. “No, don’t change your plans for me.”

“I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste. Bryan and I can change our date to Saturday.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“No, don’t do that.” Dejected, she straightened the silverware beside one plate.

Amy came across the room and sat beside her. “Do you think you made enough to feed two more people?”

Melissa brightened, “I’ll have to throw together a little more salad, but sure.”

“Great. I’ll ask Bryan and Dylan to come over, then we can still catch a movie afterward.”

Mollified, but still unhappy that she hadn’t thought about asking her sister if she had plans, Melissa retreated to the kitchen while her sister went to change. Stacks of tomato-stained pans and bowls met her gaze. When had she made such a mess? Even the stovetop was splattered with burned sauce. She hurried to load the dishwasher and wipe up before her sister noticed the disaster in her normally immaculate kitchen.

Later, with Amy and Bryan heaping praise on her for the meal, Melissa began to feel that she hadn’t completely blown the couple’s evening. Dylan cleaned his plate in short order.

“You’d better hurry, Dad. We don’t want to miss the movie.”

Bryan smiled and rubbed his son’s unruly hair. “Take it easy, tiger. We won’t miss a thing. I’m sorry we have to eat and run, Melissa.”

She waved aside his concerns. “The next time I decide to whip up a feast, I’ll make sure no one has plans.”

Amy sent Bryan on to the car with Dylan, then she turned to Melissa and said, “I know you’ve been worried about how you were going to tell everyone about your pregnancy. I sort of took matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve called everyone except Dad. I’ll let you tell him in your own time.”

Melissa’s hands clenched into fists at her side. She struggled to hide her sense of betrayal. “Amy, I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I understand that you wanted to tell the others yourself, but this way you don’t have to face everyone and rehash the story over and over. Now, it’s done and you won’t have to worry about it any longer.”

Her anger at her sister faded quickly. Amy was right. It was a relief knowing that everyone had been told. Melissa gave Amy a wry smile. “My big sister is still trying to find ways to make life easy for me.”

“Just this one last time. Then I’m done, honest.”

Melissa bit her bottom lip, then asked, “What did they say?”

“I’ll spare you the brotherly comments. Once everyone digested the news, they were willing to support you in any way they can.”

“And Mom?”

“Mom said she would call you.”

“That was it?”

“That was it.” Amy started for the door, but turned back, a look of indecision on her face. “Melissa, before you talk to Mom, there is one more thing I think you need to know.”

“What?”

“It’s about Dad. There’s a rumor being spread around that he had an affair and that it resulted in a love child.”

“What? I don’t believe it. Who would say such a thing?”

“I don’t believe it, either. The story came out in the Observer’s gossip column. It hinted that the woman was someone well-known in the community. As you can imagine, all of this has been hard on Mom.”

“I guess so. Poor Mom.”

After her sister left to catch the latest action-adventure flick, Melissa sank onto the sofa. The sudden quiet pressed in, making her feel lonely and tired. Tired but not sleepy. She tried watching TV but nothing on the ninety-three cable channels held her attention. Giving up after flipping through them twice, she shut the set off and silence ruled.

What would she say to her mother when she called? As much as she disliked Amy’s interference, Melissa had to admit she was glad the news was out to the family. It would make the next meeting with her siblings easier, if not the next meeting with her parents.

The harsh ring of the phone suddenly ripped into the quiet and Melissa jumped. Another shrill ring sent her scooting off the sofa to look at Amy’s caller ID—although she suspected who it was before she saw the number displayed. Of course it couldn’t be some telemarketer selling time-shares. No, it was her mom.

Melissa’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Oh, Melissa, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

The love and concern pouring through those few words was all it took to crumple Melissa’s defenses. She sank to the floor and began to weep. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” she managed to get out between sobs.

“Don’t cry, honey. Please, you’re breaking my heart.”

“I don’t know why I do these things. I know they’ll hurt you, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I know you’re worried about Daddy, and I didn’t want to burden you with this, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s all right. You did the right thing. With God’s help, we’ll deal with this, too.”

“Don’t tell Daddy. Please don’t tell him,” Melissa begged.

“Honey, he’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“I know. I’ll tell him—but just not yet.”

“This is so difficult over the phone. Why don’t you come home, sweetheart?”

“Because I got myself into the mess and I’m going to deal with it without adding to your troubles, Mom. If I come home you’ll try and fix it like you always do. This I have to take care of by myself.”

“I respect that, Melissa, I do, but I think you should reconsider.”

“Tell me about Daddy. How is he, really?”

The pause on the other end of the line let Melissa know her mother wasn’t ready to change the subject. After a deep sigh, Nora said, “I think you would be shocked to see the way this has aged him, but his spirit is still as strong as ever. Sometimes, I think he is in complete denial. It’s been hard on everyone to see him laid low, but you know your father. When someone says he can’t do something, he had to prove them wrong. Honestly, I think his stubborn streak works better than any of the drugs they give him.”

“When you see him, will you tell him that I love him. Tell him that I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”

“You aren’t a disappointment, honey.”

“Right, and Elvis isn’t dead. He lives over on Main Street in Hickory Mills.”

“If your father wasn’t expecting me at the hospital, I’d come over to Amy’s now. I can call him and tell him I’ve changed my plans.”

Sorry for her flippant attitude, Melissa said, “No, don’t do that.”

“If you won’t come home, at least meet me somewhere where we can talk.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Please, Melissa.”

“All right. I can do that.”

“Why don’t we meet for lunch tomorrow at Betty’s Bakeshoppe? We can have tea and catch up on things, and cry on each other’s shoulders. I’ve been where you are, honey. I understand what you’re going through.”

“Betty’s will be fine.”

“Good. Tomorrow at two?”

“I’ll be there.”

“You won’t run off again, will you, Melissa? I’m so worried about you.”

“No, Mom. I’m back in town to stay.” As Melissa made the promise she wondered if she was brave enough to keep it.

After talking to her mother, Melissa lay down on the sofa and curled onto her side. A deep sadness settled in her heart. She had caused everyone so much pain. Her hand moved to the swell of her stomach. She poked the bulge softly with one finger. “You do realize that you’re the cause of this. Besides breaking my mother’s heart, you’ve made it hard to button my jeans.”

A strange, tiny flutter deep inside Melissa caught her by surprise. She pressed her hand tightly against the feeling.

There it was again!

A sense of wonder replaced the sadness she had been feeling. “You moved! I think you kicked me!”

Melissa sat up and waited to see if she had imagined it. No, it was definitely a thump. Oh, why wasn’t Amy home? Melissa wanted to share this moment with someone. Richard’s face flashed into her mind. He would understand what a thrill this was. Would Dean feel the same way if she gave him the chance? She cupped both hands around her tummy.

“Are you knocking? Do you want out? Don’t be in a hurry to get here, kid. Life isn’t all that grand. Your daddy’s run off. Your mother is a fool—and these could be the lyrics to a country-western song.”

A bubble of giddiness rose in Melissa and erupted into a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m talking to my stomach.”

Another faint thump, thump left no doubt. Her baby had moved. The thought was closely followed by the knowledge that he, or she, would soon be someone else’s baby.

Melissa’s merriment faded. Conflicting emotions tumbled through her heart. Longing and misery, amazement and sorrow. She would give her child away as soon as it arrived in the world.

“I hope you know this is the best thing for both of us. I’m not the kind of person who would make a good mother. Someday maybe you’ll understand that,” she whispered. “Maybe someday you’ll forgive me.”

Melissa tipped her head back and sighed. One more giant heartache loomed on her horizon. Where would she find the strength she needed to do the right thing?

Chapter Four

It was almost ten o’clock the next morning before Melissa worked up the nerve to call Richard McNeil. The level of candy in the clear glass bowl Amy always kept on hand had dropped significantly and a pile of discarded foil wrappers littered the desktop.

Thinking about putting her baby up for adoption was one thing. Actually making the call to tell Richard to start the process was a whole different story. Her mind said this was the right thing to do, but her heart seemed bent on arguing.

“One small step at a time, girl,” she murmured as she grasped the receiver and held it to her ear. With her free hand, she punched in the numbers she had memorized, then she wadded the silver wrappers into a ball and tossed them into the trash can.

When she told Richard about her decision, would he think she was throwing her baby away?

His secretary answered on the second ring and put Melissa through to him.

“Richard McNeil speaking.” His voice came across sounding curt and professional. Her courage wavered.

“Richard, this is Melissa Hamilton.”

“Melissa, how are you today?”

“Honestly? I’m frightened, confused, nervous and about to expire from an overdose of chocolate kisses,” she said in a rush. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Would it make you feel better to know that is how most people feel when they have to call an attorney?”

She heard his amusement and she relaxed a little. “At least I’m not calling from jail.”

“Always a good sign in my books.”

“I wanted to let you know that I’ve made up my mind.”

“And?”

“I want you to help me find this child a good home.” She winced inwardly at her choice of words. This wasn’t like finding someone to take in a stray puppy.

“Melissa, are you sure about this?”

“Yes. Tell me what I need to do.” If only she could feel as sure as she sounded.

“I’ll get the paperwork started. Have you thought about what type of adoption you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want an open adoption, where you choose and meet the adoptive parents and remain in limited contact with the child? Or would you rather not know anything about the family?”

“Open sounds better, doesn’t it?”

“That’s up to you.”

“I guess I’ll have to think about that. What else do I need to know?”

“As I told you, I have a friend who is an adoption attorney. I’ll have him put together some information for you and then we can go over it after you’ve had a chance to read it and think about it. After that, we’ll form an adoption plan. If you want to meet the prospective parents, I’ll set up some interviews.”

“That sounds good.” With Richard to help her, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

“I’ll draft a letter to Dean to let him know what you’re planning. He won’t be able to relinquish his rights until after the baby is born. You understand that you can’t, either. Nothing will be final until the baby arrives.”

“I understand that.”

“Good. There is something else I’d like to discuss. You mentioned that you don’t want to move back home. Do you still feel that way?”

“Absolutely. I’ve talked to my mother and she understands how I feel.”

“In that case, I have an offer for you to consider. My sister and her family recently had a fire at their home. While their house is being renovated, they’re staying with me. To make a long story short, Angela is working a lot of overtime and Dave is spending his free time trying to get their house repaired. That leaves the girls with me or on their own. My sister has been thinking about hiring someone to help with the housework and entertain the girls when she can’t get home. Would you be interested in the job? She can’t pay much, but you would get free room and board. You would have a bedroom and a bath to yourself. Are you interested?”

“You’re offering me a job?”

“Let’s call it a temporary solution to several problems. My sister needs help and you need a place to stay. It won’t be for more than five or six weeks, but that should give you time to find a place of your own.”

“That’s very kind of you, Richard.”

“This isn’t kindness. It’s a business offer. Unless, of course, you really like sleeping on Amy’s couch. In that case, I’m sure Angela can find someone else to help.”

Melissa gave the cream-colored divan a sour glance. It was pretty, but as a bed, it didn’t quite make the grade. “If you’re sure this is a job and not charity, I accept your offer. When do I start?”

“I could help you move in tomorrow. Would that be too soon?”

“Not at all. Tomorrow will be fine.”

“Good. I think you’ll like the girls. Samantha is twelve and Lauren is eight. They’re old enough that they don’t need a lot of supervision, but they’re still too young to leave alone for any length of time.”

Something in his voice made her question him further. “I get the feeling there is something you aren’t telling me.”

“The girls have had some trouble adjusting since the fire, especially Samantha. Usually she is as happy as a lark, but since the fire, she has been unhappy and withdrawn. I’m hoping that having someone new in the house will help take her mind off of things.”

“I’m sure we’ll get along. I come from a big family, remember?”

“I remember. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon. What time works for you?”

“I think I can have my duffel bag packed by four.”

“So, I won’t need to rent a moving van?”

“No, not this time.”

“Great. My back was aching at the thought.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She chuckled as she hung up the phone. In spite of her current situation, Richard always seemed to make her smile. But then, he always had been able to make her laugh.

Melissa pulled open the glass door to Betty’s Bakeshoppe a few minutes before two that afternoon and was instantly surrounded by the mouthwatering smells of cinnamon rolls, aromatic coffee and baked apples. The shop was more than a coffee house. Over the past twenty years Betty and her daughters had expanded the bakery into a restaurant area and had added a small used bookstore at one end. Betty’s Bakeshoppe now took up three connecting shops along the downtown street. But it was Betty’s excellent cooking and the convenient location across from the Hamilton Media building that made it a prime meeting place for employees and downtown business people.

Looking around, Melissa saw several faces she recognized from the paper. The Saturday-afternoon lunch crowd was long gone, but there were still a few customers lingering over their desserts. She spied her mother seated at a table by the window in the corner, where shelves made a partial wall between the eatery and the bookstore.

A petite woman, Nora Hamilton might have been mistaken for one of her own children if not for the strands of silver in her shoulder-length blond hair. She was dressed simply in a belted red dress with a wide white collar and white trim on the short sleeves.

Nora’s face brightened when she caught sight of her daughter, but not before Melissa noticed how tired her mother looked. Guilt gnawed at Melissa’s conscience. She was responsible for adding to her mother’s already heavy worries.

Threading her way between the tables, Melissa watched her mother rise. An instant later she found herself gathered in a warm embrace, one she returned fiercely as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She had missed her family more than she realized.

Nora was the first to draw back. “I’m so glad you came. Let me look at you.”

“Mom, I’m fine.” Melissa wiped the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand and submitted to her mother’s scrutiny.

“I believe it now that I see you with my own eyes. You had us all worried.”

They took their seats and Melissa glanced around the room to avoid looking at her mother. Embarrassment made the sudden silence painful. Instead of talking about herself, she sought a neutral subject. “I’ve always liked coming to the Bakeshoppe.”

“I remember how you would beg your father to meet us here for lunch when you were little.”

“I thought it was the coolest place. I’d never been to any other store where the drapes were painted on the windows. I see they still have that rug painted on the old wood floor in front of the cash register.”

“Remember how you used to stand on it and hop on and off? You told me you could make it fly.”

“Mom, I think I must have been four then.”

Nora smiled softly as she looked back in time. “It always made your father chuckle. Time goes by too fast.”

“Then I grew up and made Dad mad all the time.”

“Not all the time, dear.”

“More times than not.”

“You went through a very difficult time after Jennifer died. We knew that but we couldn’t seem to help you.”

Talking about Jennifer was the last thing Melissa wanted to do. Fortunately, Justine, Betty’s daughter, came up to the table with her order pad in hand. “Mrs. Hamilton, it’s nice to see you. How is Mr. Hamilton? We’ve been keeping him in our prayers.”

“He’s doing better, Justine. Thank you for asking.” Nora glanced toward the kitchen. “Is your mother here?”

“No, she had to leave early today. Melissa, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been out of town, but I’m back now.”

“What can I get for you ladies? Our special today is apple pie.”

After ordering a slice of pie and a cup of tea, Melissa waited until Justine served them and then moved away. Before she could decide how to bring up the subject that hung in the air between them like an elephant in the middle of the room, her mother reached across the table and laid a hand on Melissa’s arm.

“I want you to know that I understand what you’re feeling, Melissa. I faced the same thing when I was pregnant with Jeremy.”

“I couldn’t believe it when Amy told me Jeremy wasn’t Dad’s son. How? I mean, who was his father?”

“His name was Paul Anderson and we were engaged to be married. We were young and careless. We were in love, and we thought nothing else mattered. Then he died in a motorcycle accident. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. A few months later, I met your father.”

“Did he know?”

“Not at first. It took a lot of courage to tell him, but I knew it was the right thing to do.”

Melissa wanted to ask her mother another question, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. She picked up her spoon and began to stir her tea, but couldn’t contain her troubling thoughts. “Was that the only reason you married Daddy? For the sake of the baby?”

“Melissa, look at me,” Nora said softly.

Melissa raised her eyes and met her mother’s unflinching gaze.

“I fell deeply in love with your father, and I have thanked God every day of my life that He sent Wallace to me. Never doubt that.”

Melissa had always believed her parents loved each other. It was good to know that that part of her life hadn’t been a sham. She looked down at her teacup again. “Did you ever think about giving Jeremy up for adoption?”

“Of course I thought about it. I prayed about it, and I wavered back and forth, but in the end I knew it wasn’t what God wanted for me. Are you thinking about adoption?”

“Yes. I’ve already spoken to Richard McNeil. He is going to help me find a family. In a way, it’s a relief to have finally made a decision.” Melissa forked a bite of sweet, tart apples and featherlight crust into her mouth.

Nora’s eyes filled with sadness. “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but please give this a lot of thought and prayer. God has a plan for all of us, even if we can’t see it. It would be hard to raise a child alone, but I would help all I could. I know your father will feel the same way. This is, after all, our first grandchild.”

It was hard for Melissa to swallow her food past the lump that pushed up in her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m not like you. I don’t have what it takes to be a mother. I don’t have patience or good sense. This child will be better off with someone who wants a kid. Besides, I’m not so sure that Daddy will want anything to do with this baby.”

“You’re judging him harshly, Melissa. It will be a shock for him, but he’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“You always believe the best of people.”

“And I’m rarely disappointed. What about the baby’s father? Will he help?”

Melissa pushed her pie aside. “He doesn’t want either of us. We didn’t fit into his big plans.”

“I wish I could ease your heartache, Melissa. Things look bleak now, but God heals all wounds. Have faith, honey, and give it some time.”

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