love. How would the formidable Grandpa George have handled this situation? He’d probably hire someone to run the doctor out of town. But George Clayton hadn’t been all bad. She remembered how he’d come into the hospital room when the girls were born. He’d stared down at the three little pink bundles without a word. But a single tear had fallen down his rusty old cheek. Then he’d turned and walked out of the room.
That tear had told her more than any words ever could.
Grandpa George loved his great-granddaughters. And he loved Jasmine, too. He’d want Arabella to fight for her home and for her children, including Jasmine.
Why had God allowed them to love Jasmine, to make the girl one of their own, only to bring Jonathan Turner here with bad news? Would he entice Jasmine with his wealth and position? Or would he promise her the moon but then leave and forget her? Jasmine had suffered enough.
Arabella had suffered enough, too. Was she being selfish, wishing Dr. Turner had never found his niece? Like it or not, Jasmine had grown up and was to be married in December. Arabella would have to let her go, one way or another.
Arabella had a hard time letting go, though. Her own mother had left her here in Clayton when Arabella, a teenager at the time, had refused to move away. She’d stayed for love, or so she thought. She’d married too young, and before she knew it, her marriage had fizzled out like a dud stick of dynamite. People were always leaving her, and she was tired of it.
What next? she wondered.
Outside, the leaves fell from the trees with a gentle abandonment that seemed to Arabella like a release. She wished she could just drift away like that. But she had responsibilities. She had to face reality. She couldn’t let her protective feelings put a wedge between Jasmine and her. There really wasn’t anything she could do, except pray that Jasmine would be happy, no matter where she wound up.
Arabella spent the next hour making soup and baking rolls for lunch. Only she didn’t have an appetite and she couldn’t get Jasmine to come downstairs.
Cade called Arabella’s cell. “What’s wrong with Jasmine? She left me a message, and she was crying.” His voice filled with concern. “Is this about the wedding? Did somebody say something to her? I called back but she wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone.”
“Are you coming over here?” Arabella asked, hoping the boy could comfort Jasmine but dreading all that she’d have to tell him. “We can talk then.”
“I’m finishing up some things with Mr. Jameson at the Circle C. I’ll be over there when I’m done.”
“That’s fine,” Arabella told him. Cade had big plans to become a doctor, but right now he needed a steady income and the Circle C ranch needed workers. Thankfully, Cody paid him a fair wage for a good day’s work. “Come on over when you’re done. I’ll be here through lunch, so Jasmine won’t be alone. Just get here when you can and maybe you can talk to her. She won’t talk to me right now.”
She was glad she’d told the girls’ preschool teacher to take them next door to Mother’s Day Out. Normally, she only sent the girls over there when she had deliveries or other appointments.
Their teacher, Mrs. Black, had readily agreed. “They’ll be just fine, Arabella. The girls love playing with the other kids who stay late. Don’t worry. Enjoy your afternoon.”
Arabella didn’t see how that would be possible. This was one of those day where she wished she could just run away and start fresh. But she busied herself with cooking, something that always soothed her when she was worried about things.
Her cell rang, showing Brooke’s number. “So … what’s up with you and that handsome doctor?”
“He’s new in town,” Arabella told her cousin. “And … he’s Jasmine’s uncle. His name is Jonathan, and he told me her daddy died a short time ago.”
“Oh, that’s horrible. How’s she doing?”
“Not so great. I just told her this morning. Jonathan’s coming over for lunch so he can talk to her.”
“Give Jasmine a hug for me,” Brooke said. “Listen, I heard from Vivienne.”
Arabella braced herself. Had her cousin decided against coming home for the requisite year? “What did she say?”
“She’s visiting friends in Denver right now, but … she lost her job. She said since she’s got nothing to go back to in New York, she’ll be home soon. She’s willing to try the year thing.”
Arabella thought how hard her vivacious cousin had worked to become a successful chef in New York. Vivienne hadn’t been thrilled at the stipulation of having to return to Clayton for a year to receive her inheritance. But now she’d need that money. “Viv is being brave about this. I hope she won’t regret it.”
“I told her I sure am glad I came home, in spite of everything.”
“Me, too,” Arabella replied. “Thanks for the update. Now we need to pray Zach hears from Lucas.”
“I’m on it,” Brooke said before hanging up.
Arabella went back to her cooking, her prayers scattered from her cousin Lucas missing somewhere in Florida to Vivienne at loose ends in Denver and everyone in between. Especially Jasmine … and her uncle.
Jonathan walked up onto the inviting porch of what everyone called Clayton House. The big old Victorian looked pretty from a distance, but up close he could see the signs of wear and tear. The yellow paint was chipped and peeling in places and some of the big white shutters drooped with a heavy-lidded sway. This painted lady had seen better days. The house had to be over a hundred or so years old, so Jonathan took it in with a forgiving eye.
Maybe Arabella Michaels would be the same. Pretty from afar but worn a bit when he got up close. He almost wished that were true. Except last night she’d looked pretty good for a woman who’d come to confront him. He didn’t need the distraction of a pretty woman right now. He had to talk to Jasmine, tell her he wanted to give her a chance for a new life and then get back to his old life. If he kept taking time off from the hospital, he could be out on his own, searching for a new place to work.
The front door creaked open with a groaning cackle. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t hide in the bushes anymore.”
Jonathan gave Arabella a twisted smile. “I’m not hiding in the bushes. I’m right here in plain sight.”
“Then why didn’t you knock on the door? You’ve been standing there for at least five minutes.”
He took in her careless chignon and the soft green sweater she wore over old jeans. And she had on yet another pair of cowboy boots—these a rich, burnished brown that matched her upswept hair. Unlike the house, she did not look worn and frayed around the edges. She looked great. All natural and all attitude.
“I … uh … this is hard,” he said, his tongue tripping over his teeth. “I brought Jasmine a few things.” He shoved the gift bag and a small bouquet of flowers toward Arabella. “The flowers are for you. And … some stuffed animals for your girls.”
Arabella took the flowers and looked down at the big floral bag then back up at him, surprise and sweetness in her eyes. “I see you’ve been to the Flowers and Fancy Finds
