pit opening up, ready to swallow her whole.
She would never have entrusted her child to anyone else but Sara. Annie had known for many years of Sara’s plan to adopt children when she married.
When the time came to make the decision on her baby’s future, she had made the right one. Annie had also asked Sara not to tell her family that she was Toby’s natural mother.
There was always the chance she would for some reason return to Guthrie. She hadn’t wanted them to be uncomfortable or worried that she had come to take him back. She’d moved to the city long before conceiving Toby and nobody in Guthrie had known of her condition except Sara.
That was how she wanted it to stay.
Not telling anyone had just seemed better and Sara had respected her wishes. Now Annie was glad she had made the decision to keep it a secret between them. Jared would never have understood why she’d given her child away.
Her child. She savored those words, wondering why life had turned out this way. Fate had given her the chance to be his mother again.
How ironic that all she had ever wanted was within her reach because of a freak car accident that had killed Sara and James Monroe just six months ago.
Annie reached into her bag. She stared at the photograph again. Her doubts banished the guilt for now, as she gazed into eyes the same color as her own and wondered what it would be like to hold Toby in her arms for the first time.
Jared couldn’t help but smile when Annie opened the door to him that Friday afternoon. She wore a pale green lightweight cotton short-sleeved shirt, faded blue jeans and sturdy thick-soled boots. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, wild tendrils escaping to frame her face.
“You can take the girl out of the country,” he said, approval in his tone. “But there’s always a little country that you can’t take out of the girl.”
Annie let out the breath she’d been holding. “I want to make a good impression.”
“You don’t have to impress anyone.”
“I’m meeting your parents after a long time, and the children for the first time.”
Jared smiled. “My parents will love you.”
She picked up on what he did not say. “And the children?”
“Let’s talk about it in the car.” He reached for the small suitcase she had at her feet. Only when they were pulling out of the parking garage did he speak.
“I told the boys at breakfast this morning. Toby is too young to understand. Luke asked if you were pretty and if you could cook.”
She smiled. “And Caroline?”
“She’s going to need some time. Caroline’s afraid that when we get married it’s going to be a repeat of her past all over again, that something will happen and she’ll be pushed out, not wanted.”
Annie felt for the little girl. How horrific that memory must be for her. “We’ll just have to prove to her every day that it won’t be the same.”
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“I know, but if I can show them all I’m not a threat, that I’m not going to take you away from them, it will give us something to build on.”
“Until I spoke to Caroline I never realized that they might feel threatened by someone new.”
Annie turned slightly to face him. “Right now you’re the focal point of their lives. Of course they are going to be protective of your time and your attention.”
“Like you said, we’ll just have to make sure they know they come first.”
Annie cast a covert glance at him. He had dressed casually today. Moleskin trousers in a dark brown color, work boots with a thin film of dust on them and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He was a very handsome man, his looks striking. He looked like an advertiser’s dream for country living.
For the next hour, conversation touched on many topics—politics, world affairs, different jobs they’d had. But both stayed away from personal questions, as if by silent understanding that the other person would not welcome it. Finally, she stifled a yawn.
“I’m sorry, Jared, I’ve not been sleeping a lot lately.”
“We’ve still got a ways to go. Why don’t you recline the seat and get some sleep?”
Annie did, but each time she closed her eyes her mind wandered back to a different time, back to the day she’d turned her back on Guthrie and walked away.
Seventeen and lost, angry with her mother and with God, Annie had traveled a path of loneliness, living mostly in shelters. Whenever she did find work, she made just enough money to get a room. They were barren and stark, usually with just a bed and a washbasin.
Then Chris had started working at the fast-food restaurant. He was kind and he smiled a lot. He became a special person in her life. They found in each other somewhere to belong if only for a while. He was estranged from his family for reasons he never did want to talk about.
The day she’d found out she was pregnant, excitement had warred inside her with fear. Angry as she had been at God, Annie had tried to live a life of His teaching. Still, in her heart she knew something as joyous as a baby couldn’t be a bad thing. It was God’s creation, just as she was.
She never did get the chance to tell Chris he was going to be a father, never would know what he might have said or done. Death had taken him from her life as quickly as he had come into it. Something as simple as a coughing fit turned too quickly into a fatal asthma attack. By the time she’d gotten to the hospital, he was gone.
The days after his death were still a blur to Annie. She had found it hard to cope with the grief. Each day it threatened to suck her into a black hole.
She was unskilled, with no high school diploma and no prospects of ever getting one. Suddenly having a baby on the way and being alone had caused her to make some tough decisions.
Toby might not have been a planned baby, but to the seventeen-year-old girl who had carried him inside her, he had been her guiding light. Because of Toby she had found her faith again. She began to trust the Lord again, realizing that when she had run from Him, He had not abandoned her, but had waited to welcome her back into His love.
Toby had made her want to be less selfish than her mother, to want more for a child that deserved something other than a life of poverty and struggle in a dingy, hole-in-the-wall bedsit.
There had been times during her pregnancy when she’d convinced herself she could raise a child alone. But the memories of her own childhood, of going without things she saw other children take for granted, were still so fresh in her mind and her heart.
She had wished away her childhood because it had been so bleak, without color and sound and laughter. Growing up had meant getting out, looking after herself. Having a life.
Envy was a sin, she knew, but oh, how she had envied the children, even the ones who had made fun of her with her charity clothes and shoes a size too big for her.
