Betsy Amant: 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?”