Dana Corbit - Finally a Mother

A Mother’s Second Chance

Working at a home for teenage moms is a constant reminder for social worker Shannon Lyndon of the baby she gave up. When state trooper Mark Shoffner shows up at her door with a troubled teenage boy, Shannon knows she’s looking at her own child. Temporary custody is given to Mark, but the handsome officer is more than she bargained for. She has another opportunity to be a mom, and Mark’s rugged good looks and charisma are a distraction she can’t afford. But as Shannon gets to know her son, and the man who’s stealing her heart, she realizes that this makeshift family could be the happy ending she’s always wished for.

“How are you handling your son’s arrival on your doorstep?” Mark asked.

Shannon turned back to him. “Have you looked at me tonight? I’m not handling it that well.”

He had been looking at her. He could barely take his eyes off her. “I think you’re doing all right. It’s a lot to digest.”

“You act as if it came as a big surprise to me that I had a child.” A sad smile spread on her lips. “Believe me, I never forgot it.”

“But you never expected him to show up on your doorstep like an overnight delivery, either.”

“No. That I didn’t expect.”

Suddenly Shannon lifted her head and looked right at him. She seemed to be searching for something. Was she trying to decide whether he was just being polite or if he really wanted to know her story?

He was surprised to realize that he did want to know. More than he had any right to.

DANA CORBIT

started telling “people stories” at about the same time she started forming words. So it came as no surprise when the Indiana native chose a career in journalism. As an award-winning newspaper reporter and features editor, she had the opportunity to share wonderful true-life stories with her readers. She left the workforce to be a homemaker, but the stories came home with her as she discovered the joy of writing fiction. A Holt Medallion award winner and Booksellers’ Best award finalist, Dana feels blessed to share the stories of her heart with readers.

Dana lives in southeast Michigan, where she balances the make-believe realm of her characters with her equally exciting real-life world as a wife, busy mom to three nearly grown daughters and food supplier to two tubby cats named Leonardo and Annabelle Lee.

Finally a Mother

Dana Corbit

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Do not judge, and you will not be judged.

Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.

—Luke 6:37

To Ruth Ryan Langan,

you are an example of graciousness and class

in the publishing industry and in real life.

Thank you so much for supporting me, guiding me and making me believe in myself and in all of those characters clamoring in my head for their stories

to be told. You are the real deal, my friend.

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Chapter One

“Miss Shannon, he just kicked me.”

“On my way.”

Shannon Lyndon grinned at the sight she must have made, galloping in like the cavalry toward the voice coming from the computer room. The voice of one of her girls. The chance that one of them was in any real danger was slim after all. At Hope Haven, a kick didn’t necessarily signal an attacker, stomach upset seldom meant the flu and excessive restroom breaks were as ordinary as pop quizzes.

Inside the room, half a dozen teenage girls were crowded around a redhead named Holly. Her chair was pushed back from the computer desk, and hands of varying sizes and skin tones were pressed to her slightly protruding tummy. Most of the girls had rounded abdomens to match hers, and the remaining few would blossom in a matter of weeks.

“He’s doing it again.” Holly’s eyes were as wide as the grin on her freckle-dusted face. She’d already started referring to her child as a “he” although it was too soon for an ultrasound test where she could find out for sure. “Want to feel it, Miss Shannon?”

“Of course I want to.”

Well, want was a strong word, given that perspiration dotted the back of her neck though late fall already held Southeast Michigan in its frozen fist. And given that no matter how many times she shared moments like this with the teens, she’d never been able to escape her own private longing. But she brushed away the dampness, tucked the lock of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear and stepped right inside the circle of teens. One of her girls had invited her into this special moment, and she was determined to be there for every one of them no matter how much it cost her.

It couldn’t matter this morning that Holly and the other girls entering their second trimesters weren’t the only ones intimately familiar with the butterfly flutter of life inside of them. Shannon’s secret was just another square stitched into a faded quilt of memories, and that quilt needed to remain folded away for another day.

She bent over the sixteen-year-old and splayed a hand on her belly. It came as no surprise that she felt no motion beneath her fingertips other than the rise and fall of the girl’s breathing. When she shook her head, Holly’s smile fell.

“Here, let me try.” Kelly, a recent Hope Haven addition with close-trimmed black hair and lovely café au lait skin, squeezed in closer. She held her fingers to the spot Holly indicated for several seconds and then pulled them away. “I don’t feel it, either.”

Shannon patted Holly’s shoulder. “At first you might be the only one who can feel the baby’s movements, but before long they’ll be strong enough to knock a quarter off your stomach.”

“She’s right. Believe me.” Brooke, in her thirty-third week, rubbed a spot where a foot or elbow must have been poking her rib cage.

Holly’s smile returned as she traced a circular pattern near the hem of her oversize Michigan State sweatshirt. Still a child herself, she clearly was in love with her baby.

Shannon could relate to that. As much to escape from her feelings as to hide them, she turned away from the sweet scene. Only then did she notice the three girls sitting in a row at computer terminals, focused on their online assignments while avoiding the excitement surrounding Holly’s pregnancy milestone. It seemed unfair that they couldn’t enjoy this celebration of life together since they’d all already chosen life for their babies. But for some of the girls who’d committed to adoption, becoming attached to the fetuses they carried was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

Unfortunately, Shannon could relate to that, too.

The girls’ varied reactions served as reminders of where they were. No matter how positive she and the other staff tried to make Hope Haven, it was still a Christian home for teen moms. The girls there would make more critical decisions than even the unfortunate choices that led to their pregnancies. Most would make those decisions with no input from their babies’ fathers, some without their families’ support. Shannon only prayed that the girls would be able to live with their decisions.

“Miss Shannon, have you planned the menus for our Thanksgiving celebration?” Tonya called from one of the PCs across the room.

“We’re all set, but the holiday’s still six days away, and you have midterms coming up, so don’t start thinking about turkey and dressing yet.”