“You’re doing great,” the nurse told her. “It won’t be long now.”
“It hurts.” Leah panted the words and felt the young woman’s hand squeeze hers reassuringly, saw the compassion in her dark blue eyes.
“I’ll stay here with you.”
And she had stayed. Through the next two hours of labor and afterward. It was the blue-eyed nurse who had brought Leah’s baby girl to her, wrapped in a soft pink blanket. So Leah could say goodbye. Then, she’d wrapped her arms around Leah when she’d started to cry.
The nurse had been Julia Cavanaugh.
Tears burned Leah’s eyes. Tears she was unable to hide from Ben’s mother. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, my dear. You must be a sensitive soul! I know I am. Ty teases me because I even cry during TV commercials.”
Leah was rescued from a response by the pint-sized seven-year-old who suddenly careened around the corner.
“Aunt Rachel needs Leah,” she said. “And Grammy, Daddy said to tell you he’s got the chess board set up.”
“That’s my cue.” Peggy brushed a stray curl off Olivia’s cheek. “Every year your dad tries to beat me at chess.”
“He said this is going to be the day he wins,” Olivia whispered.
“He can try.” Peggy gave them both a mischievous wink.
Leah stepped into the hall but was still having a difficult time breathing normally again. She felt a soft touch on her arm and forced a smile, assuming it was Olivia. It wasn’t. It was Peggy.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Leah.”
Chapter Five
“You sit next to me and Leah, Daddy.” Olivia dragged Ben over to the table, where a perfectly roasted turkey had taken its place as the centerpiece. Across the room, Rachel lifted her chin and gave him a smug look.
“How did you sneak all this food in, Eli?” he asked innocently. “Is there a chef hiding in the kitchen?”
His brother laughed and drew Rachel against him, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “Don’t worry, honey,” he said in a stage whisper. “Next time we play football, I’ll grind that attitude right out of him.”
Watching them, Ben felt a pang of regret. He and Julia had only been married three years when the doctors discovered she had ovarian cancer. Although they’d known each other in high school, they hadn’t started dating until she’d finished college and came back to Chestnut Grove. Everything in their relationship had been perfectly timed. He’d proposed after a year. They’d married eight months later. He thought he’d have a lifetime of memories with her, and now he found himself struggling to preserve the few but precious ones he had.
“Are you going to stare at that turkey all day or sit down and eat it, son?” Tyrone gave him an affectionate slap on the back as he headed toward the table.
Ben moved to take his place, which was between Leah and Olivia. Leah had a smudge of flour on her cheek and, without thinking he reached out and brushed his thumb against it.
She turned and their faces were inches apart. Once again he felt the fine jolt of electricity that had become annoyingly familiar whenever he was close enough to Leah to see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
“You had flour on your cheek.” He showed her his thumb as proof.
“Oh.” Leah’s face was as pink as Olivia’s bedspread. “Thank you.”
Eli tapped his spoon against the rim of his glass. “Before we eat, I’d like to resurrect an old Cavanaugh family Thanksgiving tradition. Rachel and I thought Olivia might enjoy it.”
Ben tensed. There was only one Cavanaugh Thanksgiving tradition that he remembered and both he and Eli had done away with it the minute they were out on their own….
“Under everyone’s plate are corn kernels. The number you have is the number of things you thank God for during the blessing,” Eli continued.
Olivia picked up her plate immediately and he could see the delighted expression on her face. Emotion shifted inside him. He recognized it for what it was—guilt. He hadn’t given his daughter any spiritual guidance over the past seven years. Hadn’t taken her to church. Hadn’t prayed with her the way his parents had prayed with him while he’d been growing up. Hadn’t taught her to praise God for the blessings in her life or to lean on Him when things went wrong.
“How many did you get?” Olivia asked, craning her neck to look at his plate. “Daddy, you haven’t even looked yet!”
He lifted his plate up and saw four kernels of corn. Four. If Eli had duplicated the tradition, the most a person got was four. Suspiciously, he wondered if some devious person had rigged his plate.
“I only got two,” Olivia said, then leaned across his lap. “How many did you get, Leah?”
“Two.”
Ben frowned. Leah’s hand was clenched so tightly around the kernels of corn that her knuckles were white.
“Everyone ready?” Eli asked cheerfully. “Dad, why don’t you start?”
Ben couldn’t see a way to back out of this, so dutifully he closed his eyes. Four things he was thankful for. That shouldn’t be so difficult. The hard part was who he was thanking. He liked to think that he’d worked hard to achieve the good things in his life.
Suddenly, he heard Leah’s low, musical voice.
“Lord, I am thankful for Your faithfulness. And I’m thankful to You for bringing me to this table today, to share Thanksgiving with my—with the Cavanaughs.”
“Lord,” Olivia solemnly copied Leah’s opening, “thank You for my dad. And for bringing Leah to our house.”
Ben drew a deep breath and wondered why his insides suddenly felt as if he’d swallowed a box of rusty nails. Maybe because he hadn’t talked to God since the day he’d shouted at Him…the day Julia had died.
“I’m thankful for my family and friends and my business. And especially for this seven-year-old stick of dynamite beside me.” He heard Olivia giggle and his fingers found the ticklish spot on her knee under the table.
When he opened his eyes, he saw his mother squeeze Eli’s hand and there were tears in her eyes. Ben knew why. At least one of her prodigals had returned home. But he wasn’t a prodigal, was he? He hadn’t gone out and squandered his life. Just the opposite. He’d done everything right. He’d done everything a Christian was supposed to do. He’d read his Bible and prayed. He’d been active in his church youth group as a teenager. He’d rarely missed a Sunday service. And Julia had still died. He’d realized seven years ago that he couldn’t have faith in a God Who didn’t fulfill His part of the bargain.
After the others had shared their thanks, and the dinner conversation turned to the upcoming Christmas holiday—another celebration that Ben had to grit his teeth and survive every year—Olivia suddenly bounced several times in her chair.
“I’m in a play at church,” she said loudly.
Everyone fell silent.
“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” Peggy said with a quick glance at Tyrone.
“It’s a musical. They picked parts last Wednesday when Leah took me to church. I’m an angel and I get to sing one song all by myself.”
“And how did all this come about?” Ben asked quietly.