Mine to Love

By Debbie Gilliland

James Hawthorne, a widowed and recently retired minister, has searched for and found his only child, given up for adoption at birth. Leaving behind his congregation, he purchases a house next to his daughter, Marta, now an adult with a family of her own. James longs to reconnect with Marta, but secrets and tragedy force him to question everything. Tracking down the biological mother, he finds a broken woman who is weary of living. Of all the souls he has ministered to, the mother of his child is the last person he ever expected to help. In his quest for answers, she reveals information that both devastates James and sets him free. Beset by uncertainty and doubt, James must rely on faith, love, and his belief in family. Already very attached to Marta and her child, he knows they need him more than ever. But will he ever know for certain if he is Marta’s father? Will he ever have the family he has secretly wept for all of his adult life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ambassador International
• Release date: Nov 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781620204801

Book preview

Mine to Love

© 2016 by Debbie Gilliland

This is fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Unless otherwise noted, all Scriptures are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

ISBN: 978-1-62020-556-3

eISBN: 978-1-62020-480-1

Cover Design and Typesetting: Hannah Nichols

E-book conversion: Anna Riebe Raats

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Dedicated to the delightful little people who call me Grandma.

It is my prayer that every one of them will have eyes that see the best in people,

a heart that forgives the worst, a mind that forgets the bad,

and a soul that never loses faith in God.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Information

Dedication

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

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Contact Information

CHAPTER ONE

EVENING SETTLED UPON THE HOUSE with a familiar silence. Though the quietness of his solitude was sometimes deafening, it was at least comfortably familiar. The decision to pack up his few possessions and move to Merrill, Illinois, had not been made hastily. James had left considerable pieces of his soul behind in the community where he had pastored the last twenty years, but it had been time to leave. He had one more mission to fulfill, and he intended to get started while there was yet energy to pour into it.

James sipped at a cup of steaming coffee as he shuffled to the front door and looked out at the greening lawn. Spring was being fickle here, or so they were saying everywhere he went. He had few expectations of the weather and was quite content to enjoy the variety he had already experienced in the short month since he had arrived. Today was the sort of early spring day that could take off at a blustery clip and then mellow into a lazy, sun-warmed afternoon. It was, in fact, the perfect weather to nudge along visions of summer flower gardens. A smile escaped his lips as he assessed the ample room his new yard offered him to sculpt those visions into reality.

Although it appeared there were no neighboring houses within sight, the Newtons’ home came into view if James shifted his position slightly. His purchase of this property had been strategic, after all. A property that answered his requirements of both a yard to landscape as he wished and proximity to the Newtons was almost more than he had hoped to find. It seemed an answer to the struggle between his heart and his head. When he signed the papers to close on the purchase of this property, he felt confident that the decision to move to this community had not been a mistake.

It was still an odd sensation, this retirement business. With discouraging frequency in the last six months of pastoring, the idea of not being responsible for a church and its congregation had seemed so inviting. His patience with mankind’s selfishness had run its course. He had overlooked petty disagreements without a second thought in his early years as a pastor. Then, his wife had been a tempering force who encouraged him to press on in his ministry in spite of the base humanity of his flock. Cancer had stolen her away from him prematurely, however—another score that needed settled with his God.

He smiled to himself, imagining how his wife had no doubt gone directly to God and pointed out how inadvisable it had been to remove the one steady influence in the life of James Hawthorne. As convincing as her argument would have been, she was still gone. And, if the dead were allowed to settle back in the great theatre of heaven and watch life play out for those they had left behind, he hoped his dear wife would be able to forgive him for withholding this secret that motivated his life now.

His reflection in the glass of the door caught his eye. What was left of that 18-year-old boy who had fathered a child and given it up for adoption at the command of his scandalized parents? Hindsight assured him it had been the right decision, but its consequences had haunted him through the years. James had been the all-American high school athlete, excelling in any sport he tried. Academics were a breeze for him as well—further fuel for his parents’ contention that a marriage and child at that point would have destroyed his chances for success. Inconsequential to them was the possibility that giving up the child might destroy his peace of mind instead.

An ornery smile crept across his lips as he remembered the look on his parents’ faces when he announced that he would not be attending the college of their choice. "You want to do what?" had been his father’s first words when James offered his preferred plan of going to a Bible college in a small Indiana community. His own minister had cautioned him against making such a decision as a sort of self-imposed penance for fathering a child. So why had he chosen to become a minister instead of a teacher and coach? The answer to that lay in his deep need for assurance that there was a forgiving God who could transform one bad choice into a life lesson that would benefit every future decision. Having become convinced of that, his heart’s desire became sharing that confidence with others who surely had made some mistakes of their own.

In the glass he saw the face of 62-year-old James Hawthorne. There were the usual wrinkles of age, and his hair was snow white. In his ornery moments, little laugh lines puckered the corners of his brown eyes. His wife had accused him of being ornery very often. He stepped back and eyed his reflection. There was no old-age slouch looking back at him. Even after college, he had continued his interest in fitness, coaching kid teams at any opportunity and disciplining himself to maintain a daily exercise program.

There had been no lack of opportunity to remarry in the years since his wife’s death. His congregation had been well stocked with widows eager for companionship as well as any financial relief he might have brought to the deal. Though he had often been advised to consider those opportunities, he could never work up any enthusiasm for the sport of courting another woman. What would be the point, after all, of becoming attached with so few years left? Besides, he was on a mission now—one that no woman would understand—and he had no desire to compromise his freedom with the baggage of a relationship with a woman who would need answers to all her questions. Indeed, would there have been a logical answer to anyone’s questions about this mission?

A runaway ball rolled into his view. Predictably, Jannah tumbled into his yard in chase. James smiled as he watched the five-year-old girl gather up the ball, a pudgy puppy bouncing along at her heels. Jannah had introduced herself to James several days ago as he walked past her house—and began asking questions immediately.

I’m Jannah Newton, she had announced boldly. What’s your name?

Glad to meet you, Jannah Newton, he had replied. My name is James.

James WHO? she had pressed.

James Hawthorne.

Oh! That’s a funny name, she assessed. It sounds like an old man’s name.

He had laughed then, and she giggled in turn. "I am an old man," he replied.

You don’t seem that old, Jannah said. Old men don’t go for walks.

I see, James said, still smiling. Although it might have been interesting to hear her view on what other things old men didn’t do, he decided against getting too familiar with this delightful nymph too quickly.

Are you my new neighbor? she continued her query.

Well, I guess I am, James answered.

Will you mind if Tucker gets into your yard sometimes? she asked.

Who is Tucker?

My dog, silly! Jannah replied. He’s just a puppy and can’t remember exactly where his yard ends. He won’t bite, but he might bark at you.

Actually, I kind of like dogs, James assured her. If he can find his way home, I won’t mind if he comes to visit once in a while.

James realized their conversation had been overheard by someone inside the house when a woman called out, Jannah, it’s time to come in! A slender woman dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and blue jeans stepped out on the porch in defense of her maternal territory. Dark hair that brushed against her shoulders was tucked loosely behind her ears. James was tempted to stare, but he waved casually and continued on his way down the sidewalk.

Bye, James Hawkeye, Jannah had shouted after him.

Now, as James watched the little girl gather up the ball, the emptiness of his unfulfilled fatherhood echoed from a far corner of his heart. It seemed pointless to assign his wife blame for their barren marriage. They had discussed adoption years ago, but a young pastor’s salary hardly spared enough resources to fund all the legal requirements. So, they had borrowed children from among their parishioners through the years, which had proven a delightful way to experience many of the joys—and sorrows—of parenting.

Jannah skipped out of sight, unaware that she had been observed. Disappointed, James turned away from the window and followed the scent of fresh coffee. Armed with another steaming cup, he settled down in his recliner to enjoy the evening paper.

CHAPTER TWO

JAMES HAD JUST FINISHED A grueling two hours of football practice in the blazing heat of an early September afternoon. As he headed for the locker room, he saw Donna leaning against the fence around the football field. When their eyes met, she motioned for him to come her way. James trudged over to her, impatient to be on his way to the shower.

What’s up? he asked from a distance.

Donna lowered her head and shrugged her shoulders. I need to talk to you, she finally said.

This isn’t a very good time, James protested. I’m really hot!

Okay, Donna said in a low voice. Her shoulders seemed to drop even further. Could you come by my house later tonight?

James shuffled his feet and swiped at the sweat dripping down his forehead. He had been planning to spend the evening servicing his car. I guess I can come over for a little while, he finally conceded.

Whenever works for you will be fine, Donna said. She turned and started up the hill to the student parking lot.

Something was bothering her, James could see that. See you later then, he shouted over his shoulder.

That was the night early in his senior year of high school when he found out that his girl was pregnant. Donna wasn’t the homecoming queen type, but she was pretty enough. Most of the boys in his class would have jumped at the chance to date her. At first, it was understood that they were not exclusive property to each other. James wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship. His days were busy enough with his summer job at the factory. When football started, there was no time at all for girls. In the last few months, though, Donna had become more possessive of his time.

Donna had managed to share the news with him in a calm voice. When James did not immediately respond, she had collapsed into heavy sobs. He could not deny that they had been physically involved. They had. Now Donna was pregnant. After an uncomfortable silence, James had suggested that they both take some time to think about what they should do. What were their choices though, really? What would his parents say? What would Donna’s parents say? Donna would have to drop out of school when the news got around.

They agreed to tell their parents separately. James’ father exploded at the news. It was pretty clear from his reaction that no one in the history of mankind had ever done anything as stupid and irresponsible as James had. His mother just cried.

Well, that young woman doesn’t need to think you are going to give up your future just because she got herself pregnant! his dad had sworn. You could have a football scholarship to Northwestern next year, for Pete’s sake!

James sat and silently endured his father’s tirade. Donna had not gotten pregnant all by herself, but he knew it wasn’t a good time to point out the obvious to his father. Donna was an all-right girl. James could marry her and find a full-time job. They could make a go of it somehow.

We’re getting married. James’ words surprised himself—he hadn’t even suggested marriage to Donna. Maybe she expected it, but they had not talked about it.

Are you out of your mind? his father shouted. "Do you realize that you wouldn’t even be able to finish high school then, let alone go to college? What kind of future do you think that would give you?"

Then what am I supposed to do, Dad? James had asked. Do you want me to ignore the problem and hope that it will just go away?

She can just deal with it, his father retorted, refusing to even use Donna’s name. If she had kept her clothes on, this wouldn’t have happened. Who knows? Maybe there have been other guys besides you.

Dad! James protested. Donna wouldn’t have claimed he was the father if there had been any question. Would she? It didn’t matter. The facts were the facts: Donna was pregnant, and she held him responsible. I’m going for a drive, he said. The screen door slammed behind him.

He drove to the football field and sat in his car for several minutes. Hoping some fresh air would help, he pushed the door open and walked down to the fence. The place was deserted, so he climbed to the top bleacher seat and stood staring down at the field. He had made some pretty impressive plays on that piece of grass. Everyone—not just his dad—expected James Hawthorne to be offered a football scholarship. He would play football while working on his teaching degree. And he would take coaching classes! What a perfect outline for the rest of his life!

Overwhelmed with the impossibility of that dream now, James sank down to the bench and dropped his head to his knees. He was stupid and irresponsible—just like his dad said! He knew he should have used protection, but he hadn’t had the nerve to go into the neighborhood drug store to buy it. Besides, the first time was totally unplanned.

What a loser! Wouldn’t the guys have a grand time with this news! He imagined walking down the hallway at school Monday morning if word spread—there would be knowing looks on everyone’s faces, whispering, and snickering. And they would all be thinking, What a stupid and irresponsible guy James Hawthorne is! The teachers would all shake their heads at the enormous waste of his opportunities.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, but the tears came anyway. He pulled the bill of his cap down low, shielding his tears from the world. James sat there with his head in his hands for two hours, sobbing his regrets and relinquishing his dreams of college. It seemed that life could not possibly get any worse than this.

He was mistaken.

Donna didn’t come back to school after that weekend. James went by her house one night after practice, but he was met at the door by her father and was asked to leave. When he called Donna’s house, he was always told that she was not able to come to the phone right now. He wondered if Donna knew that he had tried to make contact with her. Or, maybe it was her choice not to see him. There was no way to know.

News about Donna’s pregnancy passed through the school hallways in whispered voices. Since James was the backbone of the football team, the repercussions for him amounted to little more than some good-natured ribbing from his friends, and only for a few days. It was surprising how quickly everyone was willing to overlook his indiscretion. But he wondered about Donna every day. Was she okay? Where was she, anyway?

The football team made it to districts, then lost the final round before state competition by three points. After only a couple weeks off, James was running laps in the gym and practicing lay-ups for the basketball season. He had been on the starting team since his freshman year, and this year he was one of the team captains.

Most of the time, sheer busy-ness kept James from wondering about Donna and her baby. There were times, though, in the silent hours of the night, when he was haunted by the reality of their relationship. One of Donna’s friends had told him that she had gone to live with her grandmother until the baby was born. That would be sometime in April—only a few months from now. Then what? How would Donna be able to keep the baby? James admitted some resentment for not knowing the answer to that question. If Donna had only allowed it, he would have done what he could to help her.

His parents