Her Family Wish

Snapshot of a happy family

Taking pictures of other people’s happiest moments is the perfect job for Hannah Hart. Secretly fearing that she won’t ever have a family of her own, Hannah prefers to hide behind the camera. Until she meets assistant principal Jude Bradley, whose twelve-year-old daughter instantly bonds with Hannah. Jude might just be the man to give Hannah a reason to smile—if he can let go of the past. The more Hannah and Jude discover they have in common, the more Hannah wonders if there’s a family in her future after all....

“I’m sorry I made you uneasy yesterday. I let a personal matter affect my reaction to your generous offer, and I apologize.”

Hannah waited for details, but Jude didn’t offer them. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” She still couldn’t imagine how an offer of a free photo shoot would offend, but obviously it was possible.

“It was my fault alone.” He hesitated, and Hannah searched his gaze, eager to see his secrets but not sure why it mattered so much. She quickly looked away. She had no business teasing herself with the attraction she felt. It was surely one-sided.

“Thanks for saying so.” She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Then she realized she’d just provided him with a full view of her scarred cheek, and she looked the opposite way.

Jude’s gaze followed the motion, and a flush rode up Hannah’s neck. Definitely one-sided. He had no reason to be attracted to her, and a three-inch reason not to.

Her Family Wish

Betsy St. Amant

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.

—Romans 8:28

Contents

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 Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

The only thing Hannah Hart hated more than mirrors was the spotlight.

“Class, this is Ms. Hart.”

Hannah stared at the rows of young teenagers staring back at her, and offered a tentative smile as her best friend and art teacher, Sophia Davis, continued her glowing introduction.

“Ms. Hart is the owner of Hannah Hart Photography.” She rambled on about Hannah’s business and achievements. The kids didn’t look all that impressed. One blew a bubble with her gum, which Sophia quickly confiscated with a piece of paper.

Hannah crossed her arms awkwardly over her navy suit jacket, feeling her face heat even as her skin grew clammy. Being a photographer didn’t exactly qualify her to teach photography to a junior high fine arts class, but when Sophia had pleaded with Hannah to come, she couldn’t say no. How could Hannah turn down the chance to share her lifelong love of photography with a whole set of potential future photographers?

Even if they were staring at her like she was some sort of sideshow.

Your scar isn’t going anywhere, Hannah. You might as well get used to it. The car wreck that left a jagged line from her cheekbone to her chin might have happened two years ago, but the effects lingered. She pressed a hand to her stomach. All of the effects.

“Let’s try to show her a little more respect than you guys show me, huh?” Sophia winked at the students as she tossed the gum-filled paper in the wastebasket, and a few of them giggled.

A petite blonde teen in the front row caught Hannah’s eye, her hair plaited in thick braids. She wore a plaid dress that seemed severely old-fashioned compared to the stylish appearance of the other girls. Still, the outdated look didn’t take away from her striking blue eyes and naturally thick lashes, all set within a cheekbone structure that would make many models jealous.

Hannah instinctively turned her head, tilting her good side toward the kids. Surely none of them would ask her about her scar. She was used to young children in their innocence and naïveté asking personal questions while on a photo shoot, but this was different. These kids were old enough to know better—she hoped.

“Hannah brought her camera today to show us a little about the technical side of photography.” Perched on the edge of her desk, Sophia motioned for Hannah to take center stage—as if it were that easy. Maybe if Hannah’s skin was as flawless as her best friend’s, her confidence level would be a few notches higher. But that wasn’t fair. She wouldn’t wish her insecurities on her worst enemy, much less the friend who walked Hannah through the first weeks after her accident.

Sophia pointed a finger at the kids. “Any questions you have along the way, go ahead and ask—by raising your hand.”

Hannah swallowed the nerves rising in her throat and hoped her smile appeared more natural than it felt. They’re just kids, Hannah. You photograph them all the time. The reminder did little to ease her anxiety. Kids still had eyes—judging, questioning, curious eyes.

“Hey, guys.” Her greeting came out froggier than she intended. Hannah quickly cleared her throat, then pulled her Nikon from her camera bag. Simply holding the equipment in her hands gave her an emotional boost, and she looped the strap around her neck for safety before holding it out before the class.

“This is a photographer’s best friend—her camera,” Hannah said. She pointed to each part as she defined the various terms. “And over here is a self-timer.” Not that she used that feature much anymore. She preferred staying behind the camera to being on film herself these days.

“Can we hold it?” a brunette girl asked without raising her hand.

Hannah’s mouth opened with uncertainty, but Sophia quickly intervened. “Not on your life. Next question?” She gestured to a boy in the second row. “Kent?”

“How much do photographers get paid?” He grinned, his freckles streaming together across his cheeks.

“That all depends on if a photographer works for a company or as an individual.” Hannah smiled back, feeling a bit of tension finally ease from her neck with the honest questions—that didn’t involve her face. “Of course we could chalk it up to not enough, and leave it at that.”

The pretty blonde she’d noticed earlier actually raised her hand, the first one to do so, and Sophia pointed at her. “Go ahead, Abby.”

Abby brought her arm back down to her side. “Are we going to discuss lighting soon? I don’t have a real camera, just the one on my phone. But I always seem to get shadows in the wrong place when I take pictures with my friends.”

Hannah nodded, impressed with the depth of her question. “We’ll discuss lighting techniques before the end of the course. That’s one of the most important aspects of photography.”

“Good.” Abby sat back in her chair, excitement shining in her eyes. “Thanks.”

Such a polite kid. Looking at Abby and the rest of the class, Hannah felt like she was staring at a page from her favorite childhood magazine. Which of these does not belong? Not only in appearance, but in intellect, manners and decorum. Abby seemed like she’d be a ray of sunshine during this course compared to the other students, judging by the disinterested expressions on the majority of faces.

Hannah finished her presentation and when the bell rang, Sophia dismissed the class without giving any homework. “Don’t think this is a habit,” she hollered over the sound of notebooks being crammed into backpacks and the scraping of chairs on the worn floor.

A multitude of groans echoed in the students’ wake, and Sophia turned to Hannah with a sheepish grin. “So some are more interested than others. What can I say?”

“They’ll warm up.” Hannah packed her equipment in her camera bag and rested the bag on Sophia’s wooden desk. “Besides, didn’t you say you only needed me once or twice a week?”

“Not that you’re counting,” Sophia teased. “But yes, that’s what I said. We’ll see if I meant it.” She winked. “Don’t forget you promised to help me carry over some of the lessons and applications into CREATE so we can get more hands-on—at least with the kids who want to.”

CREATE was an after-school club Sophia had started last year that was a big hit with some of her more motivated students, the ones who wished to dive deeper into the fine arts. Hannah smiled. “I won’t forget. Today might not be the best indicator of group interest, but some seemed more into it than others. Abby actually looked excited about it all.”

“She’s a good egg.” Sophia slid several colored binders into a tie-dyed tote bag. “Most of the time, anyway.”

Hannah frowned. “What do you mean? She was an angel today compared to the rest.”

“Her father is Judah Bradley, the assistant principal. That doesn’t exactly make her class favorite.” Sophia shrugged, her curly red hair cascading around her shoulders. “Besides that, I think she’s finally starting to realize she’s Little House on the Prairie compared to the other girls, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, she’s beautiful regardless.” Hannah rested her weight against the desk. That was the other thing that made Abby stand out from the rest of the girls in the class—she didn’t seem to realize how gorgeous she was. From Hannah’s side of the camera, that was almost unheard of. Most teens wanted to cake on the makeup and reveal as much as possible, not realizing the depth of their young beauty was still natural.

Sophia tugged the straps of her tote over her shoulder. “Jude’s a single dad, and she’s at that age now where they’re butting heads over everything. I’ve overheard more than a few teachers discussing conversations they’ve overheard.”

“It could be rumors,” Hannah pointed out. She’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.

Sophia shrugged. “Either way, it’s obvious they’re having a rough time of it lately. But thankfully Abby’s a really smart kid.”

“I think so, too.” A deep baritone sounded from the open door of the room, and Hannah jerked upright as a man in a dark suit strolled toward them. His sandy brown hair, short and gelled, brought out the deep blue of his eyes that had obviously been passed down to Abby. He shoved his hands casually in his pockets as he came to a stop beside Sophia. “Are you going to introduce me to your new assistant, or just discuss my family life?” A soft smile took the edge off his words, though his expression still meant business.

“Principal Bradley, I’m so sorry.” A rare blush crept up Sophia’s neck and Hannah felt one of her own crawling up her chest. “This is Hannah Hart.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jude extended his hand. “Please, call me Jude.”

Hannah shook it, and an instant spark jolted from her wrist to her elbow. She quickly pulled her hand back and forced a smile, hoping the blush hadn’t made its way to her ears yet. A red face only made her scar that much more obvious.

“Nice to meet you, too, Jude.” His name rolled off her lips too easily, and her stomach churned a reaction she hadn’t felt in years. Don’t be ridiculous, Hannah. You were caught gossiping about him. You don’t stand a chance. Not that any man that looked like Jude would glance at her twice anyway, unless they were ogling her scar. Her ex-fiancé had made that clear enough.

He crossed his arms over his dress shirt. “How was the first class on photography?”

“I think it went pretty well, considering.” Hannah willed her stomach to settle. “Some of the kids seemed more interested than others.” She gestured to Sophia. “We were discussing how attentive Abby was.”

“Glad to hear it. She’s a good student.” Jude nodded briskly. “And it was nice of you to volunteer to do this for our school. I’m sorry we can’t pay you for your help.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Hannah answered honestly. Maybe she wasn’t so thrilled at first, but she couldn’t help but feel especially happy about it now while standing in front of Jude. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment, and despite his polite smile and clean-shaven, professional appearance, a shadow lingered in his eyes. Hannah tilted her head to one side, recognizing the emotion she’d lived with for years—regret. She couldn’t even imagine the struggles of life as a single parent, much less as a single dad. No wonder Abby seemed so out of fashion. Jude probably had his hands full keeping them above water, never mind trying to pay attention to the latest styles.

Eager to brighten Jude’s obviously overworked day and make up for her embarrassing gossip blunder, Hannah gestured toward her camera bag. “I couldn’t help but notice how photogenic your daughter is. I’d love to do a portrait session with her, for free of course—or even a family photo, if you’d be interested. It’d be great for my portfolio.” Not to mention their own personal collection of memories. She doubted family pictures were something a single dad would think of keeping up with over the years. Her excitement grew at the idea of helping them out. “Would you be interested?”

Jude’s smile slowly faded and his eyes darkened as a sudden storm clouded the depths of blue. “No, I wouldn’t. But thanks.”

Shock cemented Hannah’s mouth shut, and before she could react, Jude turned and nodded at Sophia. “See you ladies tomorrow.” Then he strode away as quickly as he’d appeared.

Chapter Two

Jude slid into the driver’s seat of his silver sedan beside Abby, mentally kicking himself as he fastened his seat belt and fished for the key. Talk about a bad first impression. He’d practically snapped at Ms. Hart—Hannah—over nothing at all, at least as far as she was concerned. She couldn’t have known that nothing was indeed something. He’d been hurrying past the art room on his way to his office when he’d heard Abby’s name from inside. The entire incident was his own fault for eavesdropping, but he had a right to know what teachers—and volunteers—were saying about his daughter.

Especially lately, with Abby’s first hint of teenage rebellion jump-starting like a Camaro off the line. A too-familiar headache pinched Jude’s temples, and he rubbed his forehead before cranking the engine.

From the passenger seat, Abby quirked a curious eyebrow. He tried not to notice the Look with a capital L and forced what he hoped resembled a carefree smile. “Sorry I’m late. Forgot something in my office.” And had been more than a little sidetracked along the way. He backed out of the parking lot, ready to get home and get out of his suit—and away from the memories of Hannah’s beautiful smile. “How was your day?”

Abby zipped the backpack shut at her feet and wrangled into her seat belt, ignoring the question and jumping straight into the obvious. “What’s wrong with you?”

He clenched his jaw. “Just a stressful day, honey.” He couldn’t tell Abby he’d snapped at a teacher’s assistant—not exactly the role model image he kept desperately trying to project.

Residual anger at his ex boiled in his stomach. Miranda, how could you put me in this position? Not that she could hear him anymore from whichever gravesite in California she resided in. In fact, she hadn’t heard a word he’d said ever since their jaunt down the aisle when they were practically teenagers themselves.

He drew a deep breath to clear his head. “More budget issues. The usual.” It wasn’t a lie. The strained school budget was stretching to the point of snapping like a rubber band, and he couldn’t help but flinch every time he came near the paperwork—or Head Principal Coleman, who had sent an email today indicating one of the school electives would be cut.

“I saw you go into Ms. Davis’s room after school.” Abby twisted in her seat to face him as he pulled onto the frontage road. “Did you meet Ms. Hart?”

Jude kept his eyes on the traffic, partly for safety but mostly because he knew Abby’s game. Her slightly-higher-pitched-than-usual tone proved she was feeling him out about the pretty new assistant. She’d used the same pitch about her fourth grade gym coach, her fifth grade room mother, and her sixth grade math teacher. Matchmaking ran thick in Abby’s blood—yet made him want to run the other way. He’d dated here and there, but no one had been worth risking his heart over. It looked like his dream of having a big family would have to wait a little while longer. He might be over Miranda, but the effects of the woman lingered like a bad perfume.

“Yes, I met her.” He kept his voice level, even as traitorous thoughts of Hannah flitted in his mind. His hands tightened on the wheel. So what if she was attractive? So what if her silky dark hair danced across her shoulders with each turn of her head? So what if her eyes shone such a rich brown it took him a full minute before he noticed the three-inch scar marring her cheek?

None of that mattered. Hannah took pictures for a living, and now taught the skill to the students—to his Abby. His stomach clenched as he flipped on his blinker. If this wasn’t a credit-counting elective and if missing several weeks wouldn’t set Abby back to the point of likely failing, he’d pull her out to avoid the whole photography unit. But that would raise questions—no one would understand why.

Especially not Abby.

“Did you think she was nice?” Abby pressed, yanking the tie off one of her braids and combing her hair with her fingers.

“I only spoke with her for a minute, sweetie.” Long enough to know he was glad this was a temporary course. He could grit his teeth for a few weeks and make the best of it. Surely Abby wouldn’t be corrupted to the point of becoming like her mother in less than a month—right? After all, photography wasn’t modeling. But it was close enough to make him uneasy. What if Abby learned so much about the behind the scenes part that she decided she wanted to learn about being in front of the camera, too?

That would be the first step of many—and one he couldn’t allow.

Abby flipped the visor down to check her reflection in her mirror. She rubbed her bare face with her fingers and sighed. “Lindsey was wearing makeup today.”

Jude fought the automatic parental response threatening to roll off his tongue about friends and bridge jumping. “We’ve talked about this before, Abby. Twice, actually.”

“But it doesn’t make sense.” Abby shut the visor with a snap as Jude pulled into the driveway of their modest, ranch-style home. “Most of the girls in my class wear makeup now. I’m almost thirteen.”

“You don’t need makeup.” Jude hoped his voice conveyed the same finality he felt in his heart. “And you won’t be thirteen for a few months.” Three and a half, to be exact, and he was clinging to every last second. Although it felt like Abby had been a teenager for at least a year already. He shifted into Park and turned off the ignition. And to think he used to dread the terrible twos.

Abby made no move to get out of the car. “I’m not talking about black eyeliner and hot pink lipstick. Just a little lip gloss and mascara.”

Maybe that was all for now. But as Miranda taught him, inches gave way to miles, and if Jude gave in today, Abby would be on the fast track to false eyelashes and stilettos. Begging to wear makeup would lead to begging for professional head shots and the next thing he knew, he’d have created a monster.

Again.

“Don’t push this. My decision stands.” Jude tugged off his seat belt, exhaustion knotting his neck.

She snorted. “If my mother were still alive she’d—”

“Abby!”

“What? It’s not my fault she died when I was little. You never want to talk about her, and that’s almost as annoying as your stupid rules.”

Abby might have the details wrong, but the main truth of that statement smacked Jude in the stomach like a boxing glove. She was right—he didn’t want to talk about Miranda. Didn’t want Abby to know the truth about her mom. The mother figure she’d made up in her head all these years had kept Abby from feeling rejected, kept her from insecurities she shouldn’t have to face at such a young age.

It just made Jude the bad guy.

Her tirade finished, and knowing she’d crossed a line, Abby wisely remained silent as she unbuckled her seat belt and threw open the car door. She stomped up the stone walkway to the house, where she waited with her back rigid for him to come with the keys.

Jude took his time pulling his briefcase from the backseat, giving them both a little space to cool off. Maybe he was being strict, but Abby didn’t understand. If she knew what her mother had done, had become, she’d get it. But he couldn’t tell her now, not during this sensitive time in her life. The teen years were hard enough without discovering your mother abandoned you as a kid because she preferred the bright lights and airbrushed pages of modeling to motherhood—and the recreational drugs that flowed in abundance and were her ultimate demise.

No, Abby shouldn’t have to deal with the same pain Jude spent nearly a decade muddling through. Since she didn’t have any memories of Miranda, Jude had mercifully put off the questions over the years, being just vague enough for Abby to draw her own conclusions. It was close enough.

And much better than the truth.

* * *

Hannah felt funny peering in the door to the teachers’ lounge, as if she were once again a student wondering what on earth the adults did in there all day. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but she wasn’t an official staff member, either, so the unease lingered.

She poked her head around the frame of the mostly deserted room and looked for Sophia, who said to meet her during her break before the last period. Hopefully Jude wouldn’t be inside. She couldn’t bear to face him yet after the awkward conversation from Monday. Hannah’s eyes darted anxiously to each table. Did assistant principals even use the lounge? Sophia waved from a corner table, and Hannah exhaled in relief as she made her way over.

“Decaf coffee? Stale donut?” Sophia pointed with a laugh to the unappealing array of leftovers, sitting on the counter by the sink cluttered with mugs.

Hannah made her way toward her, ducking her head to hide her scarred cheek as she passed a table of teachers hunched over what seemed to be lesson plans. “As, uh, tempting as that is, no thanks.” She smiled and adjusted the strap on her camera bag. “How has the rest of the week gone?”

“They’re slowly getting into it.” Sophia brushed some crumbs off the table, then crumpled her napkin and tossed it into the trash can. “They stopped asking ridiculous questions, at least.”

Hannah grinned. “That’s a start.” She tapped her bag. “I brought a lot of sample photos on lighting like you asked—even some pretty bad ones I saved from my practice days to show them the difference.”

“See, this is why I need you! You’re so much better than a textbook.” Sophia grabbed her purse and motioned for Hannah to follow her out the door. “Let’s go set up. The bell will ring in about ten minutes.”

They quickly laid out Hannah’s various photos and handouts, finishing as the bell rang. Students laughed and pushed their way inside the classroom, excited to get the last class of their Friday over with now that weekend freedom danced just out of reach.

“Come on, guys, settle down.” Sophia clapped her hands and managed to wrangle their attention. “Ms. Hart’s going to talk about lighting today.” She took the chair behind her desk and motioned for Hannah to start.