Past Secrets, Present Love

Something about Kelly’s reaction—as if she’d drawn her shield up—bothered him. She was hurting and it was his fault. He should have found a better way to tell her

Ross admitted what had been lurking in the back of his brain for weeks. He wanted to see Kelly Young without the shadows clouding her eyes, relaxed, carefree. He wanted to be the one who saw behind that icy mask of tightly leashed control.

Kelly Young had everything he’d been denied—two parents who had adored her, a job she clearly loved, friends who were nearby whenever she needed them. Her life was full, happy, the kind of tale children’s storybooks were made of. Reaching out to Sandra Lange would cost her so little.

Yet she seemed terribly afraid of even meeting with Sandra now.

Why?

TINY BLESSINGS: Giving thanks for the neediest of God’s children, and the families who take them in!

FOR THE TWINS’ SAKE—

Jillian Hart (LI#308, July 2005)

BROUGHT TOGETHER BY BABY—

Carolyne Aarsen (LI#312, August 2005)

ON THE DOORSTEP—

Dana Corbit (LI#316, September 2005)

THE CINDERELLA PLAN—

Margaret Daley (LI#320, October 2005)

HER CHRISTMAS WISH—

Kathryn Springer (LI#324, November 2005)

PAST SECRETS, PRESENT LOVE—

Lois Richer (LI#328, December 2005)

LOIS RICHER

Sneaking a flashlight under the blankets, hiding in a thicket of Caragana bushes where no one could see, pushing books into socks to take to camp—those are just some of the things Lois Richer freely admits to in her pursuit of the written word. “I’m a bookaholic. I can’t do without stories,” she confesses. “It’s always been that way.”

Her love of language evolved into writing her own stories. Today her passion is to create tales of personal struggle that lead to triumph over life’s rocky road. For Lois, a happy ending is essential.

“In my stories, as in my own life, God has a way of making all things beautiful. Writing a love story is my way of reinforcing my faith in His ultimate goodness toward us—His precious children.”

Past Secrets, Present Love

Lois Richer

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Lois Richer for her contribution to the TINY BLESSINGS series.

This book is dedicated to moms all over the world who love above and beyond. You are reflections of the Father’s love for His children.

And this book is dedicated to my mom who never believed them when they said it couldn’t be done. You go, Mom!

You are the Lord, You alone; You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their hosts, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and You preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships You.

—Nehemiah 9:6

Ross—From the Scottish or Latin, which means “from the headlands.” It is a German variant of Roswald or the English variant of Roswell or Russell.

Kelly—From the Irish, which means “warrior or bright-minded.” It was originally a boys’ name.

Sandra—A variation of the Greek Alexandra, which means “defender of mankind.” A feminine form of Alexander.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back! I hope you’ve enjoyed visiting Chestnut Grove once more as Kelly deals with a lifelong insecurity that has kept her from relaxing in God’s love. In each of us there is a kernel of disbelief that, if not checked, can grow until it saps our trust and faith in God and His divine plan for our lives.

My prayer for you is that you will lean on Him when life gets too much, that you will trust even though the struggles seem too hard. Know that He is there, waiting for you to call on Him. He will answer.

Blessings,

CONTENTS

LOIS RICHER

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

You or Ben Cavanaugh may be the adult child of Sandra Lange.

The words echoed through Kelly Young’s brain with the rhythm of a marching band on Independence Day. No matter how furiously she worked at cleaning out the old utility closet, she couldn’t silence them.

“Aren’t you leaving to get ready for Ben and Leah’s wedding?”

She glanced up, saw Florence Villi scowling at her and nodded. Scour was a word that suited the cleaning lady at Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency to a T.

“I’m leaving soon,” Kelly assured her. “Just a few things to tie up first.”

“You’re getting to be a workaholic.” Florence’s brown eyes hardened as she noticed what Kelly was doing. “I’m not responsible for any messes you make, and I’ve already cleaned this hall.”

“I’ll clean it up—don’t worry, Florence.”

“You looking for something special?”

“Just a little more space.” Kelly lifted out yet another broom, held it up. “Do you ever use this stuff?”

“Not my job to clean out all the closets in this building,” Florence grumbled. “I keep my stuff in the basement. I’m not responsible for this.”

“I wasn’t implying you were, I was just wondering—” Kelly felt the anger emanating from the other woman and decided retreat was wise. “Never mind. Are you working late tonight?”

“Same as any other night, isn’t it?” Florence eyes narrowed. “Nobody ever had a complaint about that. I do my job and I do it right.”

She did, Kelly agreed. Usually not with a happy face, but Florence kept the place clean and minded her own business. Except for the time she’d leaked information to the Richmond Gazette about some botched birth records. As she watched the over-painted lips on that grim mouth turn down, Kelly decided not to remind her of that faux pas. Florence already didn’t like her, why make it worse?

“I suppose everyone else is gone,” she murmured, trying to ease some of the articles back inside the closet.

“They left long ago. Could be that they all have people at home waiting for them.”

Unlike you.

Having uttered her unspoken little dig, Florence pushed her mop down the hallway, nose in the air as she studiously avoided the mess Kelly had made.

“‘Be ye kind, one to another. Tenderhearted, forgiving—’ ” Kelly recited her mother’s favorite verse until some of her frustration drained away. Carol Young had loved life, refused to let someone else’s unpleasantness drain her joy. She’d set a good example for her daughter.

Thank goodness her mom had never known about Sandra Lange and this search she was conducting for her long-lost child. Of course Kelly wasn’t Sandra’s child. It must be Ben.

Kelly checked her watch, gasped. How had it grown so late? Ben and Leah’s wedding was important to her, there was no way she wanted to miss it. Fortunately her house was only minutes away. She could make it if she hurried.

“You are not watching me do this, Mom,” she muttered as she shoved the jumble of brooms back into the closet willy-nilly. Of course they wouldn’t go in as easily as they’d fallen out. Kelly wiggled and pushed, determined to get them inside, but something solid seemed in the way.

“What on earth is back here anyway?” she grumbled, standing on a gallon paint can to peer over the mess. “A filing cabinet? What’s that doing here? It can’t have anything in it.”

Kelly scoffed at the very idea. There was no way Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency kept its outdated files in a utility closet, not with her as director. Although stranger things had happened under the previous director’s orders. She stretched an arm over a pile of old rags and yanked on the handle to open it, but the drawer of the cabinet wouldn’t open.

“Figures.” Her watch bleeped the time. One hour and counting. “Rats!” She abandoned that effort and stuffed everything else inside. By using her body to hold the door closed, she managed to finally lock it.

“Later,” she promised the steel gray door. No doubt there’d been some reason to put a lock on a utility closet. To keep people away from the mops, maybe? Mocking her own foolishness, Kelly got her coat.

It took five minutes to get home and fifteen minutes to shower, fix her hair and change. A record by any standard. The ringing phone delayed her a few minutes more, but when no one answered, Kelly quickly hung up. Then she was out the door and on the road.

At least for ten minutes.

That’s when the ability to steer suddenly left her car. Without warning she found herself careening all over the road. Something was definitely wrong!

Kelly prayed for help as she tried to maneuver around a parked car with a combination of braking and intermittent steering ability. She touched the brakes just a little too hard and found herself sliding across an ice-slicked street toward a child with a sack of newspapers who was doing his best to skate his sneakers across the road in front of her.

Kelly held her breath, tapping gently on the brake pedal as she dragged at the stiff, unyielding wheel, afraid to honk lest she frighten him into turning into her path. As it was, he slid a little too close. She jerked the wheel hard right, begging it to obey.

At the last moment the car turned and skidded over the sidewalk. Kelly came to a shuddering halt smacked against a massive oak tree, right beside the busiest intersection in town. The little boy glared at her, then walked away, mouth pursed in an angry line.

Kelly switched off the key before resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

“That was close, Lord,” she whispered, her entire body weak with thoughts of what could have happened. What on earth was wrong with the steering? She’d checked with the dealer a few weeks ago, made sure she was prepared for whatever nature tossed out. Obviously her steering wasn’t okay. Maybe she’d bought a lemon.

Once she’d regained her equanimity, Kelly dragged her coat lapels over her best red silk dress and climbed out of the car to inspect the damage. Her silk-clad ankles stung at contact with the wet snow.

The front bumper was a mess, the tire on the passenger side was half-flat and the undercarriage was lodged against the cement curb, making it perfectly clear that she was going nowhere fast.

“Out joyriding, Miss Young?”

Kelly wheeled around, met the dark blue gaze of Ross Van Zandt. As usual, one hank of dark hair flopped over his left eye. More than a hint of dark stubble accented the rigid line of his jaw. He had the kind of jaw people sculpted—rock solid, determined.

He cleared his throat. Kelly realized she’d been staring at him. Her face flushed a hot embarrassing red.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” It would have to be him, wouldn’t it? The one man in town she did not want to see.

“I just wondered if you’d begun living on the wilder side of life.” His voice held that hint of amusement that always made her bristle. One black eyebrow lifted as he took in her predicament. “Party dress, fast car—you know.”

“Oh, of course,” she muttered, gritting her teeth against the icy chill that her silk dress did nothing to block. “Party animal that I am, there’s nothing I like more than parking my car against a tree when I’ve just put on my best heels and a silk dress.”

“You’re on your way to the wedding.” It wasn’t a question. He leaned over and unlatched the passenger side door, thrust it open. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride. You don’t have much time.”

“But my car—” Kelly hugged into the warmth of her white cashmere coat while he pulled out a cell phone, dialed, then began speaking.

“Vinnie? Ross. Got a little problem.”

In less than fifty words he’d conveyed the problem and formed a solution. That was Ross. Succinct didn’t begin to describe his use of language.

The wind was bitter, filled with piercing bits of ice that stung when they hit the skin. Kelly shivered again, wondered if she’d be doing something illegal if she left. But then Ross was a private detective. He’d know all about this stuff, wouldn’t he?

“I’ll drop you off, then come back and watch while Vinnie loads your car and tows it. Now will you get in?”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks. Just let me get my bag.” Kelly stepped daintily through the soggy mess underfoot, dragged out her black beaded bag and her car keys, then locked the door. By the time she made it into Ross’s car her feet felt like icicles.

He watched, one inquisitive eyebrow raised, as she slipped her toes out of the delicate shoes, burying them in the carpet.

“Very pretty, Ms. Young, but not exactly weather-appropriate footwear,” he mumbled, then quickly flicked the heater on high.

“They’re very appropriate. It’s a wedding, not a trapper’s festival,” she snapped, then wished she hadn’t. “Sorry,” she murmured when his eyebrows rose.

Kelly hated snarky people and had long ago decided not to become one of them. But something about Ross Van Zandt and his piercing scrutiny always made her tense. Maybe it was because he made a living probing into people’s secrets. More likely it was because he was the one Sandra Lange had hired to find her child. That would be reason enough, especially since it was Ross who only days ago had informed her and Ben Cavanaugh that one of them might be the long lost child Sandra had been looking for. He had no idea how wrong he was.

Of course, Kelly felt sorry for Sandra. As director of Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency, Kelly spent every day dealing with people who were giving up their children for adoption. It was often a difficult and heartrending event. Sandra must have suffered terribly when she was forced to give up her own child.

But Kelly did not want to be her daughter.

Of course she knew she’d been adopted, had known it for years. In fact, she’d been the first child whose adoption Tiny Blessings had handled back when Barnaby Harcourt had been in charge. But being adopted had never been an issue with Kelly. Marcus and Carol Young were the best parents a girl could have. Living with them, being part of their family—that’s all she’d ever known. They’d showered her with so much love she never wanted anything to spoil it, especially not now when they were both gone, especially not with Sandra Lange’s problems.

“How’d you do it?”

Kelly twisted in her seat, stared at Ross. “Excuse me?”

“Your car, pasted against that tree. How’d it happen?”

“I’m not sure.” She tried to recreate the sequence of events in her head. “The steering seemed wonky,” she mused.

“Wonky?” Ross put on his left signal and waited for a car to pass before he turned toward the church. “What does that mean?”

“Soft, spongy. Unresponsive.” What part didn’t he understand?

“Has it happened before?” He frowned when she shook her head. “It’s a new model, isn’t it?”

Kelly nodded. “I just got it in the fall.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a maintenance problem. Maybe some manufacturing defect is to blame.”

Remembering, she shuddered.

“I’m just glad I wasn’t on a freeway when it happened. As it was I missed a little boy by inches.” She chided herself for forgetting her manners. “I’m glad that you were driving past. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

She studied his thick jacket and jeans. “You’re not going to Ben and Leah’s wedding?”

“Nah. I’m not all that big on church stuff.” He pulled up near the door, glanced around. “Looks like you beat the bridal party to the church.”

“That’s a blessing. Thank you very much for coming to my rescue and for handling the tow for me, Ross.” She handed over her keys, then rested her hand on the door handle, wondering if she should say it. “You know they’d love you to come. Why don’t you at least attend the reception?”

“I’m waiting for a call from the lab,” he told her. “About the DNA tests.”

Kelly froze. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Both she and Ben had given samples for testing last week.

Don’t let me be her daughter!

“I didn’t realize you’d find out so soon,” Kelly whispered, staring at her feet. They were bare. She used her toes to grope for her shoes.

“You mean you were hoping.” His voice held a hint of condemnation.

“I have a full, rich life,” she told him, bristling a little. “I loved my parents. They gave me a wonderful life. It’s not that easy to suddenly accept that someone I’ve known for years could be my biological mother.”

“Someone you feel would take away the glory from your mother, is that what you’re saying?”

“I guess. Sort of.” It was more complicated than that, but Kelly had deliberately avoided probing her feelings to discover what lay beneath her sense of fear about this situation.

“Sandra’s not asking for anything, Kelly.” He reached out, touched the hand she’d clenched on her lap. “She just wants to know the child she gave birth to all those years ago.”

“So you’ve said.” Kelly opened the door, felt the sting of the cold crisp air hit her in a wave. Impulsively she turned, faced him. “But I already had a wonderful mother whom I dearly loved,” she blurted out. “Nobody can take her place.”

Kelly didn’t wait for the argument she knew would follow. She didn’t want to hear it. Instead she swung her legs out of the car, and rose. Then she bent and met his frowning stare.

“Tell Vinnie I’ll manage without the car until he gets it fixed. And thanks for the ride. I appreciate it very much.” She swung the door closed and hurried toward the church door, stuffing away all the doubts that had surfaced in the last few minutes.

“Please let it be Ben,” she murmured over and over as she hung up her coat, then was shown to her seat. “Please, please let Sandra’s child be Ben and not me.”

She sat in her pew, unable to relax until Reverend Fraser had taken his place at the front and Olivia, Ben’s precocious seven-year-old daughter began her stroll down the aisle, preceding the bride. She heard a rustle at the back and twisted in time to see Caleb and Anne sneak into a back pew. So they’d made it back from their honeymoon for the wedding! Caleb still had a week off from his duties as youth minister for the Chestnut Grove Youth Center and she’d specifically told Anne to forget about the books at Tiny Blessings for two weeks. Kelly suspected they’d disappear as quietly as they’d arrived to finish celebrating their own nuptials.

Anne looked so happy, so content. A frisson of envy twigged at her. It must be nice to have somebody to share with, somebody to help when life got to be too much.

Kelly pushed away the longing and turned back to concentrate on the ceremony. By the time the wedding march sounded, she’d almost convinced herself that everything in her world was just the same as it had always been.

Almost.

He didn’t belong here—not among these happy people, certainly not at a wedding reception where people celebrated marriage. The only thing Ross Van Zandt knew about marriage was that it didn’t work. Not for his dysfunctional family anyway.

Ross thrust away the past and concentrated on finding her among the guests now milling freely through the hall. He’d deliberately waited until the toasts were made, the speeches given, hoping not to ruin this lovely day.

Kelly was seated at a table with three other young women. Sandra had told him that four women had been friends for many years—Meg, Rachel, Pilar and Anne, who wasn’t at the table—and had a habit of meeting at Sandra’s Starlight Diner for brunch on Sundays. It was clear from their giggles and boisterous laughter now that they were trying to talk Kelly into joining them. By contrast, Kelly’s response sounded more restrained. He wondered if she was always so uptight, so restricted. If she ever let herself forget all the rules and relax.

“Ross?”

He wheeled around at the sound of his own name, found the groom standing to one side of the doorway, partially hidden by the massive potted palm that guarded the entrance.

“Hey, Ben. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Ben shook his hand while he studied his face. “You need to see Kelly,” he guessed.

“Yeah, I do. I just got a call from the lab and—”

Ben held up one hand. “You don’t have to explain. I understand. I’m not Sandra Lange’s child.”

“I was going to tell you after I told her.” As an apology, it lacked a certain something. Ross sighed. “Could my timing be any lousier?”

“It doesn’t matter, man. Really.”

“Yes, it does. I haven’t been able to find anything to lead me to your birth parents. That’s got to bother you.”

“Maybe it should,” Ben admitted with a grin. “And probably it will when I’ve got time to sit down and think about it. But right now all I can think of is that God gave me the most beautiful woman in the world to be Olivia’s mother and my wife. We just kissed Olivia goodbye. My brother is taking her to his house. Now Leah’s waiting for me to get out to that car so we can start the first phase of our life together. That’s pretty awesome, don’t you think?”

Ross smiled broadly. He liked Ben’s attitude. “Yes, it is.”

“Later I’ll have a lot of questions I’ll want answers to, and maybe I’ll hire you to find the truth, but not today. Today is for celebrating.”

“And you’re wasting time standing here because?” Ross raised one eyebrow.

“Because I forgot that I left my car keys with my dad. I was hoping to snag someone who wouldn’t mind getting them for me. Leah’s a wonderful woman and more patient than most, but she’s sitting in the car waiting to go on our honeymoon. If I show my face in that room again we’ll be delayed even longer. I barely got away unscathed the first time we left.”

Joy, anticipation and a certain confidence filled Ben’s voice. Ross’s discomfort at telling him the news today of all days eased a fraction. The man was clearly looking forward to some time alone with his new wife. The least he could do was help him.

“I’ll get the keys,” he told the beaming groom. “Stay out of sight and I’ll be right back.”

“Great! Thanks a lot.”

Ross stepped into the beautifully decorated reception room and breathed in the scent of flowers that mingled with burning candles, fully aware of exactly when the conversation stalled as curious eyes fell on him. Kelly’s friends were less than subtle in their nudges and winks, but Kelly ignored them to stare at him, a tiny frown pleating the smooth skin of her forehead.

Ross kept his course steady, approached Ben’s parents and quietly explained the problem. His father slipped him the keys while teasing, “Your P.I. technique of going unnoticed needs a little work,” he chuckled.

Ross tossed back his own witty retort then strode toward the door. Kelly rose, said something to Meg, and met him halfway.

“So you did come,” she murmured, her voice low, for him alone. “But you’ve missed the bride and groom.”

“Not quite. I’m on my way to see him right now.”

“Ben’s still around? Oh.” She trailed along beside him toward the door, stepped through and looked around. A soft chuckle burst from her. “Ben, why are you skulking behind that palm?”

“Shh!” He took the keys Ross held out and grinned. “Thanks a lot, pal.” He paused, spared a look for Kelly, glanced at Ross, saw the shake of his head and nodded once, understanding immediately that she didn’t yet know the truth. “See you guys later,” was all he said before he turned and disappeared.