Christine Johnson - All Roads Lead Home

“Send the cable,” he said. “Let Burrows know I’m interested.”

“Will do.” Jack grinned as his wife climbed out of the cockpit. “Gotta run, pal.”

Hendrick nodded and watched Hunter hurry across the airfield. Darcy raced toward him, arms opened wide. Their embrace and the way he swung her in a circle tore Hendrick to pieces. Everyone his age was getting married and having children. He wanted a family so bad it hurt.

He couldn’t stand to watch any longer so he hopped on his motorbike and tore toward town in a cloud of dust. The wind against his face made him feel free. No responsibilities. No worries. No business to run or family to support. And most of all, for one moment, he could forget the aching emptiness.

Then he saw it: a green-and-black automobile parked beside his garage. He pulled his motorbike to a stop alongside the Overland. That knot in his gut wrenched tighter. It couldn’t be. But even before he saw her gloves on the front seat, he knew the car was hers.

Mariah was back.

News travels fast in small towns. Gabe met Mariah before she reached the church. Her little brother looked the same, perhaps a bit filled out in the midsection, but his dark curls still flopped wildly and he still disdained a suit jacket in the summer. Neither the ministry nor marriage had changed him one bit.

“Sis.” He enveloped her in a big hug. “Heard you were in town. What brings you here?”

She squeezed tightly, relishing this last moment before she broke the bad news. “I missed you, little brother.”

“Then you shouldn’t have stayed away so long.” He stepped away and assessed her. “You should have let us know you were coming. Felicity will blame me for not telling her in time to set up the guestroom.”

“I’m sorry for being so thoughtless.” Mariah brushed the dirt from her duster. “I don’t want to put you out, especially with Felicity so close to her due date. I’ll stay at Terchie’s.”

Naturally he refused to let her stay in a boardinghouse. “We have five extra rooms. You’re staying with us. Did you leave your car there?”

She crossed her arms, pretending to be vexed at his assumption. “How do you know I drove?”

He shook his head. “Even if the trains were running, you’d drive that car of yours.” He glanced up and down the street. “Where is it?”

“At the garage,” she admitted.

“The garage?” he snorted, unable to hide his mirth. “How’s Hendrick?”

“I didn’t see him. Peter looked happy, though. He’s grown so tall, and I think I saw the beginnings of a mustache.”

Gabe chuckled. “Luke asks every day when his will start to grow. They’re good friends, you see. I have to give Peter credit for letting a ten-year-old hang around him so much.”

Mariah’s heart ached at Gabe’s words. Two years ago Mariah had facilitated the placement of five Society orphans in Pearlman. Peter and Luke had been the last chosen and had apparently formed a deep bond from that day forward. Normally that would be good, but it would also make any separation that much harder. She sucked in a shuddering breath.

Gabe’s brow creased. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here. Mom is coming in two weeks. You could have joined her if you wanted to be here when the baby’s born.” He drew a sharp breath. “It’s business, isn’t it? I didn’t think the Society sent agents on follow-up anymore, especially when the reports are all good.”

She swallowed hard. “It is Society business, in a way.” But she couldn’t say more because one Pearlman matron after another stopped to greet her. This was not the place to tell him the bad news. When she had a moment’s break from the greetings, she asked if they might talk in private.

He nodded. “Let’s go to the church. Florabelle will be gone by now.”

Mariah was relieved to hear that. The church secretary was notorious for her gossiping, and this was the sort of news that Florabelle would love to spread.

Gabe extended an arm, always the gentleman, but she preferred to walk on her own. He set an easy pace. They were of a similar middling height, their strides equal. It wasn’t like walking with Hendrick. He’d always had to slow down to match her shorter stride.

After a dozen more greetings, they were alone again on the sidewalk. Gabe buried his hands in his pockets, brow furrowed, looking very much like a little boy. She wished she could reassure him, but her news would only bring more worry.

“Lovely day,” she said to break the tension.

He mumbled a reply but didn’t look up until they reached the church, its solid oaken door darkened from all the hands that had touched it through the years. She reached for the handle, but Gabe stopped her hand.

“Is this about Luke?” he whispered.

She couldn’t answer. Not yet. “Let’s go inside.”

He nodded and pulled open the door. “Whatever it is, God will see us through.”

She wished she had that much confidence. Until now, she thought she’d placed total reliance on the Lord, but this news had shaken her. It would devastate Gabe.

Once they’d settled into their respective chairs, Gabe behind his desk and Mariah taking the seat opposite him, he waited expectantly, hands clenched, as if clinging to his new family.

Mariah blinked back tears and tried to dislodge the lump in her throat. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt her beloved little brother. She’d always looked after him, mothered him. Then two years ago, he came to Pearlman for his first pastoral appointment and fell in love with Felicity. Their romance had been rocky, for she barely gave him the time of day at first, but Felicity had a tender soul, and Gabe was one of the few people who saw it.

Shortly after, Mariah arrived to arrange the placement of five orphans into foster homes. All had been snapped up except Luke, whose darker coloring challenged deeply rooted prejudice. Gabe took in the traumatized little boy, and Mariah raised him for three months until Gabe and Felicity married. In that time she lost her heart to the little boy, and that’s what made this news so difficult to bear.

She squeezed her hands together to stop the shaking and took a deep breath. “There’s a little problem concerning Luke.”

Gabe frowned. “We haven’t gotten far in the adoption process. I thought that was due to the paperwork and investigations. Have you heard something else?” He leaned forward. “I’ll do anything to make Luke my legal son.”

“It’s not about the adoption.”

“Then what is it?”

She fought the bile rising in her throat. How she wished she didn’t have to tell him this, but there was no way around it. “Luke’s father has returned.” The words fell between them like stones. “He wants Luke back.”

All the life went out of Gabe. “His father?”

She tried to temper the pain. “Perhaps I should say that a man who claims to be Luke’s father wants him back.”

“Claims?” Gabe pressed his hands against the top of the desk. “Is he Luke’s father or not?”

“That’s what I intend to find out, and that’s why I have to go to Montana.”

“Montana? What on earth does Montana have to do with this?”

“The man who says he’s Luke’s father lives in Montana.”

Gabe paused, processing what she was trying to tell him. “Why do you think he isn’t who he says he is?”

She traced the wood grain of the chair’s arm with her fingernail. “His name doesn’t quite match the records. The old Detroit office listed the father as Francesco Guillardo. The man says he’s Frank Gillard. He claims he anglicized his name.”

He sat back heavily. “People do change their names to avoid prejudice. Remember how Luke was received when people heard his full name was Luciano?”