In a Heartbeat. Carla Cassidy
This would be his first, really up-close look at her. He walked to where she stood at the fence.
Brown eyes. He’d hoped they’d be blue…as blue as the spring sky overhead…as blue as his Katie’s. Hannah was a pretty little girl, with gamine features framed by a curtain of long, dark hair. The utter antithesis of blond-haired, blue-eyed Katie.
As he handed her the ball, the familiar weight of grief crushed against his chest. What he wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms, breathe deeply into her hair, see if she smelled like Katie…that wonderful blend of sunshine and little girl.
“Thank you,” she said with a bright smile, then she turned and ran back toward the tiny house where Caleb knew she lived with her mother.
The agony inside his chest expanded as he watched her go. The little girl who lived because his little girl had died.
Caleb wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the renewal of the anguish of loss. He stumbled through the back door of the house, half-blinded by tears he’d thought he no longer had the capacity to cry. Sinking into a chair at the table, he drew in deep, steadying breaths, wondering if this all wasn’t an incredible mistake on his part.
He hadn’t realized it would be so hard. Where was the healing, the closure he’d come here to find? Maybe his expectations had been too high. After all, grief was a long process. Surely he couldn’t expect to be healed by a single meeting with Hannah.
Time. That was what he needed. Time to get to know Hannah, who was forever bound to him through a miracle of modern medicine.
He didn’t want to tell Hannah or her mother about his connection to them. His grief was private, and far too big a burden for them to bear.
He’d come here to meet them with two goals in mind. The first was his need to witness that Hannah Clemmons’s life was good, that she had all the things he’d ever wanted Katie to have.
The second reason was his longing to find out what the heart remembered. When the doctors had taken Katie’s heart and placed it into Hannah’s chest, had any memories been transferred, did pieces of Katie’s soul somehow migrate into Hannah? He knew the very idea was probably crazy, but it was a hope he hadn’t been able to let go of until he discovered the truth for himself.
The next afternoon he was once again working on the porch when Hannah came out into her backyard. She didn’t even pretend to be playing catch, but rather walked right up to the fence and offered him a sunny smile.
“Did you buy that house?” she asked.
Caleb nodded. “I sure did.”
“It’s a wreck,” she said with childish candor.
He smiled. “Yes, it is. But, I’m fixing it.”
“It’s a big house. It’s gonna take lots of fixing.” She smiled again. “What’s your name?”
“Caleb. Caleb McMann.”
“I’m Hannah. Hannah Marie Clemmons. And my mommy’s name is Erica.”
Caleb walked over to where she stood at the fence. Just like yesterday he felt a curious mix of interest and anxiety. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Hannah.”
She giggled, and the sound of girlish joy wrapped around Caleb’s heart and squeezed painfully tight. Did all little-girl laughter hold that special timbre of gaiety, that sense of utter elation?
She sobered and eyed him curiously. “Are you going to build a tree house in that tree?” She pointed to the old oak that towered over his backyard.
Caleb tilted his head and looked speculatively at the tree. “Now that you mention it, those thick limbs make a perfect place for a little tree house, don’t they?”
Hannah nodded. “One with real windows and pink curtains, and you’d let me come over and play in it anytime I wanted.”
A burst of laughter erupted from Caleb, surprising him. Maybe he would build her that tree house she dreamed of. After all, he had time on his hands and it would obviously make Hannah happy. And that was what this was all about, right? It had been almost a year since he’d had anything to laugh about. It felt good…natural.
“Hannah.”
They both looked toward Hannah’s house, where a young woman stepped out the back door. The first thing Caleb noticed about her was her hair, a long curtain of dark strands that gleamed with red highlights in the afternoon light.
“That’s my mommy,” Hannah explained.
As the woman drew closer, Caleb saw the immediate physical resemblance between mother and daughter. Like Hannah, Erica Clemmons had petite features and large eyes, only unlike Hannah’s, Erica’s were the blue of a summer’s day.
“Hannah, you shouldn’t be bothering people,” she admonished as she approached.
“I’m not bothering people,” Hannah protested. “I’m just talking to Mr. Man.”
“Hi. Caleb McMann.” Caleb held his hand out over the top of the fence.
She hesitated a moment, then shook the hand he offered. “Erica Clemmons.” She dropped her hand and placed it on Hannah’s shoulder. “I hope she hasn’t been bothering you.”
“Not at all,” he said hurriedly. He smiled at Hannah. “She’s been very neighborly.”
Erica looked at his tools strewn about, then at the towering house. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” she observed.
“Yeah. It’s going to take a lot of time, but it’s mostly cosmetic. The structure is sound.”
“Mommy said if she had a million dollars she’d buy that house,” Hannah quipped.
Erica blushed and Caleb realized she was quite pretty. “If I had a million dollars, I’d do a lot of things, sweetheart.” She turned and Caleb knew she was about to leave. He didn’t want her to go…not yet.
“I’ll bet your place used to be a part of this house,” he said.
She looked at the small structure she and Hannah called home. “I think somebody told me at one time that it used to be the carriage house of your place…or maybe it was the gardener’s cottage.”
Once again she placed a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “It’s time for you to come inside.” She looked at Caleb. “Good luck with your work, Mr. McMann.”
“Thanks.” Caleb watched them go, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he wanted…what he needed. But he knew his brief interaction with both Hannah and her mother wasn’t enough.
“Belinda says her mommy lets her stay up until real late, and she gets to go to bed whenever she wants,” Hannah complained when her mother told her it was bath and bedtime.
“Belinda is older than you,” Erica reminded her. “And Belinda is full of beans.”
Hannah giggled. “What kind of beans?”
“Lima beans.” Erica laughed as her daughter’s face wrinkled in disgust.
“Hi, Peaches.” Hannah greeted the apricot poodle who bounded across the kitchen floor, her toenails clicking across the linoleum. She scooped up the dog and laughed as a little pink tongue licked her cheek. “Peaches doesn’t want me to take a bath. She wants me to play with her.” Hannah looked up at her mother with big brown, appealing eyes.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Erica took the dog from Hannah’s arms. “You aren’t about to get out of taking a bath.” She put Peaches on the floor and the poodle instantly sought refuge beneath the table, obviously thinking the bath was for her.
They went into the bathroom, where Erica started the water in the tub while Hannah undressed. “Lots of bubbles,” she commanded, watching