A Mother's Secret. Gabrielle Meyer
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Joy searched Chase’s face. He almost looked as excited and eager as the boys. “Would you like to build them a tree fort?”
He nodded, his mouth tilting up in a smile. “I would.”
“It’ll be better than the one we built,” Ryan said with assurance.
How could she say no to this request? The boys didn’t have many male role models in their life—and though she would have chosen someone other than Chase, it seemed that God had brought him here.
Hopefully not for long.
“Did you speak to your father?” she asked Chase.
“Mama!” the three boys called out impatiently.
“Can we build a fort?” Jordan asked.
It didn’t pay to fight them. She put her hands on Jordan’s cheeks and smiled down into his adorable little face. “You can build your tree fort, but only when Mr. Asher has time. Don’t bug him if he’s busy.” She knew how persistent these children could be. They would drive him crazy if she didn’t stop them.
“Yes!” Ryan pumped his fist in the air and the other two tried to mimic him.
“Now go wash up for supper.” She ruffled Kodi’s hair as he ran past.
The door between the butler’s pantry and the dining room swung on its hinge after the boys rushed through. It squeaked mercilessly.
Chase walked over to the door and opened and closed it a few times. “I’d be happy to fix this for you.”
It had been making that noise for weeks, and Joy would be grateful to have it fixed, but she didn’t want Chase in the house, if she could help it. “I can take care of it.”
“It’s why I came, Joy.” He went to the French doors that led from the fountain room into the dining room and ran his hand over a piece of trim that had come loose. “If you have time tomorrow, I’d like to go through the whole house and make a list of the minor repairs that need attention. If there’s something major, I’ll call a professional.”
Joy was conscious of being alone with Chase, even if her kids and Mrs. Thompson were on the other side of the butler’s pantry. While Chase had called his father, she had run up to her room, pulled her hair out of the messy bun, changed into some cuffed jeggings and put on a nice shirt. She’d even touched up her makeup and slipped on a pair of sandals. She told herself she had done it because he was a guest, and she usually tried to look nice when she entertained—but she knew she had done it because there was still a part of her that didn’t feel worthy of Chase Asher. It was a part that had been with her since she was a child in her first foster home. She was always viewed as the dirty, unlovable kid that no one wanted. When Chase left her, it only confirmed that belief.
“I didn’t realize you were the handy type,” Joy said, wanting to change the course of her thoughts. She was now a respectable adult, raising a houseful of kids. She didn’t have anything to prove to anyone.
He smiled as he continued around the dining room inspecting the trim, the windows, even the wallpaper. “When I was here last time—” He paused and glanced at her, regret on his face. “About that, Joy. I’d like to explain why—”
She lifted her hand to stop him. “Please don’t.” There was nothing he could say to make up for what he had done to her. She’d rather they not discuss it.
Chase let out a long sigh. “Mr. Thompson took me under his wing that summer and taught me a lot. I helped him with several projects and found I had the knack for handiwork. You can trust me.”
Trust him. How could she ever trust him again?
“Dinner’s ready.” Mrs. Thompson poked her head into the dining room. “Come and get it.”
“Aren’t we eating in here?” Chase asked.
Joy wrinkled her nose. “We prefer to eat in the kitchen. The dining room feels too formal.”
She led him into the butler’s pantry and through another swinging door into the kitchen. The room wasn’t overly large, but it was big enough for a table and chairs. A large window looked out at the river, displaying the late evening sun glistening off the water.
“It smells delicious, Mrs. Thompson.” Chase went to the sink and washed his hands. “I remember your lasagna well.”
Mrs. Thompson grinned. “I thought you would. I once made a pan, just for you.” Her eyes grew wide when she looked at the children. “And he ate the whole thing in one sitting!”
“Whoa!” Ryan said, clearly impressed by such a feat.
“Hello again,” Chase said to Harper and Kinsley, who were seated in their booster chairs at the table, large bibs covering their pink and purple overalls.
Joy held her breath while her pulse ticked in her wrists. Would he recognize them as his daughters now?
“Sit here,” Kinsley ordered Chase, pointing to the chair beside her.
“Please,” Joy reminded her, watching Chase closely. If he had any suspicions, he didn’t show them.
“I’d be happy to sit beside you,” Chase answered, “but you better not try to steal my lasagna.”
Kinsley’s dimpled grin lit up her face. “I eat all your lasagna!”
“Not if I can help it.” Chase laughed with the little girl and Joy’s heart squeezed at the sight. From the moment she knew the girls were on their way, to this moment now, she had always wondered what it would have been like if Chase had chosen her over his family money. All throughout her uncertain pregnancy, while she was giving birth and in the long months afterward when she was trying to finish college and get a job, she had been so angry at him. As a child, she had promised herself a different life for her children than the one she had been dealt—yet here she was, a single woman, trying to do the work of both mom and dad. She couldn’t even guarantee a place for the kids to live.
Harper sat across the table from Kinsley and Chase, uncertainty in her dark brown eyes. She was the least likely of Joy’s children to embrace a stranger, but when she allowed someone into her heart, she held on to them fiercely. Joy had witnessed it in the Sunday school classroom, in her preschool classroom and in their interactions with neighbors and friends. Would Harper ever embrace Chase?
“Hello, Harper.” Chase must have noticed the little girl’s frown as she stared at him.
Harper didn’t respond, but put her head down on her folded arms.
The food was already on the table, so Joy took a seat beside Harper and laid her hand on her back. “Harper is just a little shy around strangers,” she tried to explain—though why she felt the need to clarify anything to Chase was a mystery to her. After the way he had left her, he deserved very little from her or the children.
“Let’s say