A Father For Bella. Jill Weatherholt
to care for a man whose business plan would make her homeless and unemployed. Where would she and Bella go? Whispering Slopes was the only home they’d known.
Patent leather shoes tapped along the hardwood floor. “Mommy, will Mr. Joshua be okay?”
She turned toward the doorway and her heart squeezed. Bella had a way of melting her worries. Wearing Faith’s favorite dress, her daughter looked like a princess. “I think he’ll be fine. Mrs. Watson is keeping a close eye on him today. He just needs rest.” She headed toward the pantry and pulled out a box of cereal, trying to ignore the concerns she had about Bella’s growing attachment to Joshua.
“Why aren’t we having pancakes?” Bella’s shoulders drooped as she took a seat at the table.
Sunday morning pancakes were a tradition for a couple of years; they’d been Bella’s father’s favorite. After he died, she’d continued the tradition with her daughter. With her mind on the auction and playing nurse, she’d completely forgotten. “I’m sorry, there’s not enough time for pancakes this morning.” She poured the chocolate puffs into Bella’s favorite cereal bowl and bit her lip. “What if we have them for dinner instead?”
Bella’s chair squeaked as she bobbled up and down. “That’s even better.”
“It is?” Faith poured the milk and placed the bowl in front of Bella.
“Because pancakes are for breakfast—we’re breaking the rules.” She giggled and scooped a spoon of puffs into her mouth.
Faith ran her hand through her daughter’s curls. “You’re a goof—now eat. Mrs. Underwood will be here any minute to take you to Sunday school.”
Bella took a sip of her orange juice. “Why aren’t you taking me?”
She didn’t want her daughter to know anything about the auction until she had all the facts. Faith strolled to the coffeepot and poured another cup. “Aunt Joy is coming over this morning. I have to talk with her about something.”
Bella swallowed her last bite. “About what?” She lifted the bowl and started to drink the now-chocolate milk.
Faith reached for her hand. “Use your manners, please.” She took the dish, placed it into the stainless-steel sink and turned on the faucet. “If you want chocolate milk, you’ll drink it from a glass, not a bowl. Now hurry along and brush your teeth.”
“But I want to stay and listen.”
Faith walked toward her daughter with her arms crossed. “Bella.”
Bella gulped down the last of her juice and zipped toward her bedroom.
Gravel crunched outside. Faith glanced out the window and spied Mrs. Underwood’s minivan cruising up the driveway. The horn tooted. Faith opened the front door, just off from the kitchen. She waved as a blast of January air smacked her in the face. “She’ll be right out.” Shutting out the cold, she shuffled into the laundry room and grabbed her sweater. “Bella, your ride is here,” she yelled down the hallway.
“Coming.” The girl tore into the laundry room and snatched her coat.
“Aunt Joy and I will see you after Sunday school.” Faith stooped down and kissed her cheek.
“Love you, Mommy.” She hopped down the porch steps and rushed to the van.
Fifteen minutes later, dressed in a tan pantsuit with a long-sleeved chocolate turtleneck underneath, Faith topped off her coffee and placed it into the microwave for one minute. Her heart squeezed as she recalled how special Sunday morning coffee used to be before Chris died. As though they were the only people in the world, they’d share their hopes and desires during those precious predawn hours. Their first dream had come to fruition with the birth of their daughter. The second had died in the fire, along with Chris.
The microwave beeped. Faith removed the steaming mug as the sound of a car door slamming signaled her twin’s arrival. Her heart raced, anxious to get Joy’s thoughts on the auction.
A chilly draft consumed the room as Joy made her entrance into the foyer and sauntered into the kitchen. “So what’s so urgent, sis? The message you left at three o’clock this morning sounded a little cryptic.” She reached for a coffee mug and poured herself a cup before stripping off her coat and flinging it across the back of the kitchen table chair. “What on earth were you doing up so early?”
“Trying to quiet my racing mind—I need to talk to you about something.”
Joy studied her twin. “What’s wrong? Is Bella okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. It’s about the inn going up for auction.” Saying it out loud made it even more real.
Joy’s brow crinkled as she slumped into the chair. “What’s the big deal? Businesses go under new management all of the time and nothing changes. You and Bella won’t be forced to move, and you’ll be able to keep your job—after all, you’re the reason the place is so successful.”
Their voices fell silent as a cardinal chirped outside the window.
Despite her worries, she smiled. “I never told you, but Chris and I talked about purchasing an inn one day. At first, I thought it was silly, but Chris really wanted it. In time, I warmed up to the idea and actually became as excited as he’d been. We spent hours huddled around the kitchen table making plans. I have two notebooks packed with our ideas, sketches, costs—everything.” Faith shivered. “If only we’d put our dream into action sooner, he’d be alive.”
“Come on, don’t go down the road of blaming yourself. Chris loved his job.”
True—but she’d pushed him into a field he’d never considered, all because she needed security. What kind of security did she have now? Sure, there was a life insurance for Bella’s college tuition, but she’d lost her best friend, Bella had lost her daddy, and sadly, Chris had never fulfilled his dream. “I’m thinking about bidding on the Black Bear...” Her voice trembled.
Joy’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
Tears escaped Faith’s eyes. “I forced Chris into a job he never wanted. He would have been content to work along with his father, building furniture for the family business.”
“You know that wasn’t Chris.”
Maybe it wasn’t, but at least he’d still be alive. She’d have a husband, and her daughter, a father. “There wasn’t any security in that position. His father always struggled to make ends meet and he couldn’t afford to send any of their children to college.” Faith wiped her eyes. “I didn’t want that for our future children.” She swallowed hard to force down the lump lodged in her throat. “Or for me. I was selfish and greedy.”
“Wanting security for your family isn’t being greedy, Faith.”
A sense of excitement missing for years returned, as adrenaline coursed through her body. Maybe the auction wasn’t meant to be bad news. Perhaps it was an opportunity for Chris’s dream and hers to live on—for her to provide security for her daughter. She sprung from her chair. “I’ll be right back,” she yelled over her shoulder as she took off down the hall. Her feet skidded on the hardwood floor.
Inside her bedroom, she dropped to her knees and yanked open the lid to the pine chest sitting at the foot of her bed. Underneath Bella’s baby blanket—their dream. She snatched the two spiral notebooks and clutched them close to her heart. Tears moistened her eyelashes as she recalled the day she’d packed them away—the day she buried her husband. Tossing the blanket inside the chest, she closed the lid. On her way back to the kitchen, she grabbed a tissue from the box on her dresser. I’m going to do this, sweetheart—for us. She blotted her eyes and bolted out of the bedroom, excited to share their plan with her sister.
“What’s come over you? You’re glowing like the top of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse,” Joy said as she picked up one of the spiral notebooks Faith had placed in front of her. “Is