Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Read online

  Not Until Christmas Morning

  - A Hope Springs Novel –

  Valerie M. Bodden

  Not Until Christmas Morning © 2019 by Valerie M. Bodden.

  Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Valerie M. Bodden

  Visit me at www.valeriembodden.com

  Books in the Hope Springs Series

  Not Until Christmas

  Not Until Forever

  Not Until This Moment

  Not Until You

  Not Until Us

  Not Until Christmas Morning

  Contents

  Books in the Hope Springs Series

  A Gift for You . . .

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Epilogue

  More Hope Springs Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  A Gift for You . . .

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  “Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the Lord, who has compassion on you.

  –Isaiah 54:10

  Chapter 1

  Please ring.

  Austin stared down his computer, perched on the scuffed card table in his cramped eat-in kitchen. These moments before his brother was supposed to call were the hardest. The moments when his mind went to all the things that could have happened to keep Chad from calling.

  He folded himself into the rickety chair next to the table, sliding his crutches to the floor and pulling up the leg of his sweatpants. It’d been almost a year, but the jolt still went through him every time his eyes met the rounded end of his left leg. Even though he knew intellectually that his foot wasn’t there anymore―even though he accepted it to some degree―it was still surreal every time he saw the empty space where it should be. He rolled the silicone liner over his residual limb, which ended about eight inches below his knee, then grabbed his prosthetic and slid his stump into it, standing to walk in place until the pin on the end of the liner locked with a series of clicks.

  He lowered himself to the chair with a groan, tucking his legs under the table as his computer blasted the sharp alarm he’d set to indicate an incoming video call. As always, the sound set his nerves firing, ramping his heart rate to levels it hadn’t achieved since the first days of Ranger training. But he wasn’t about to lower the volume, in case he was ever asleep when his brother called. If he ever actually slept, that is.

  The moment his brother’s face filled the screen, wearing the same goofy grin as always, his heart rate slowed, and he could breathe normally again.

  “Hey, man, it’s good to see your ugly face.” There was a delay between Chad’s words and the movement of his mouth, but Austin didn’t care. Seeing that his brother was still safe―still whole―was what mattered.

  “Likewise.” He kept his voice gruff, so his big brother wouldn’t know how much he lived for these too infrequent calls. It was the only thing he lived for anymore, really. That and getting in shape to redeploy. No matter what the doctors said.

  Only two percent of soldiers with injuries like yours return to the battlefield.

  Well, Austin was going to be part of the two percent. There was no other option. No way was he going to leave his brother over there alone.

  “How are things?” Austin asked the same question every time they talked.

  And every time, Chad repeated the same bogus answer: “It’s raining peaches.” It had been one of their mother’s favorite sayings when they were growing up, and after she’d died, Chad had taken it over as if he’d inherited it the same way he’d inherited her curly hair.

  Usually, Austin let him get away with it. When he’d been stationed over there, he hadn’t wanted to talk about what was happening with anyone back home either. There was just no way to make them understand.

  But this was different. He did understand. He’d been there. He’d lost buddies there. Tanner and―

  No. He couldn’t go there right now.

  Austin squinted at his brother, trying to see what he wasn’t saying. “Stop churching it up and give me a straight answer. How many missions are you running? You look tired.”

  Chad’s grin slipped, and he ran a hand over his unshaven cheeks. “You know I can’t, Austin. I’m fine. We’re all fine. God’s got our back.”

  Austin shoved his chair out and pushed to his feet. Supposedly God had their back last year too. Right up until the moment everything blew to pieces. He’d feel a lot better when he got back over there. Then he could be the one who had everyone’s back.

  “Austin, don’t be like that.” Chad’s voice followed Austin as he took three steps to cross his kitchen.

  “I’m not being like anything,” he called over his shoulder, loudly so the computer would pick it up. “I’m hungry.”

  He yanked the refrigerator door open. But aside from a bottle of mustard and a gallon of milk he was pretty sure was at least three weeks old, it was empty.

  “Did you go grocery shopping? Got something in there for a change?” Chad’s voice carried across the small room, a rough mix of reprimand and concern.

  Austin slammed the fridge door shut with a growl, then stood with his head braced against it, the stainless steel cooling his overheated skin.

  “Austin―” Chad’s voice was gentler now, laced with big-brother authority. “You can’t keep living like this, man. Something has to change.”

  “Yeah.” Austin nodded with his head still against the fridge. “I have to get back there.”

  “No.” Chad’s voice was firm, and Austin jerked toward the computer screen. His brother’s face was grim.

  �
�What do you mean, no?” The snap of his words carried across the room, bouncing off the walls.

  Chad had never been anything but supportive of Austin recovering and redeploying. So what was he saying now?

  “Maybe you’ll get back here, Austin, maybe you won’t. But either way, you have to learn to live with it.”

  “I am living with it.”

  “Yeah? When’s the last time you left your apartment or ate anything besides takeout or went on a date or even talked to another human being?”

  Austin opened his mouth to respond, but Chad jumped in. “And I don’t count.”

  “I leave my apartment three times a week for physical therapy. I have no interest in dating. I talked to my mailman this morning.” He couldn’t argue about the takeout, though. Still, three out of four wasn’t bad.

  “That’s not a life, Austin.”

  He almost argued again. But the little voice in his head that said Chad was right got the better of him. “I know. But what else am I supposed to do?”

  “Get out of town for a while. Go somewhere warm. Florida or Hawaii or something. You’ve got the money from selling Mom’s house.”

  Austin lifted his lip. Go to Hawaii? That was his brother’s answer? He had no desire to go to Hawaii.

  “Chad, I’m not going―” But he cut off as his eyes fell on the single picture he kept on his refrigerator. A family of four: Mom, Dad, Chad at maybe four years old, and little baby Austin.

  He snatched it out from under the magnet and strode to the table, his gait sure despite the uneven floor that often tripped him up. He held the picture in front of the computer’s camera.

  “Do you remember this?”

  Chad squinted, and Austin waited for his delayed answer.

  “Yeah. That was right before Dad was called up. I think it’s the last picture we have of all four of us together.”

  Austin pushed aside the familiar stab of jealousy that Chad had four years with their father before Dad was killed in action. Austin had been too young then to remember the man at all.

  “What was the name of the town again?”

  “Hope Springs? Why?”

  Hope Springs. That was right. His parents had grown up there, but after his father’s death, Mom had found a job opportunity in Iowa. Every once in a while, she’d tell them a story about the town, though, and to Austin, it had always sounded like the perfect place.

  “I’m going to go there.” He said it with certainty, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. Even though some part of him knew it was the exact opposite.

  “Go where?” Even with the poor video quality, Austin could see Chad’s brow wrinkle.

  “To Hope Springs.” He dropped into the chair next to the card table. “To see where we were born. Where Mom and Dad grew up.”

  “Okay.” Chad dragged the word out, and Austin could tell he was trying to avoid saying a whole lot of other things. “If that’s what you want to do. But November in Wisconsin sounds even less pleasant than November in Iowa. I still think somewhere warm and―”

  “No.” Austin peered at the picture again. This was where he wanted to go. Where he needed to go, even if he didn’t know why.

  And if he left right now, he could be there before dark.

  Chapter 2

  Leah had no idea why she’d agreed to this.

  Scratch that. She did know. Her sister-in-law could be persuasive, that was why.

  She arranged her face into what she hoped was a polite smile as the waiter set a salad in front of her. Across the table, her date―ugh, she hated that word, date, but there was no other word for a man you didn’t know sitting across the table from you and trying to make small talk―stabbed a forkful of spinach and brought it to his mouth.

  Leah followed suit. At least the food would give her an excuse to stop searching for topics of conversation. So far, they’d tried to talk about his job as an accountant, her catering business, and the Packers. When even the subject of the team’s winning streak hadn’t been able to sustain a conversation of more than five minutes, Leah had known the date was doomed.

  Well, that wasn’t true exactly.

  She’d known it was doomed from before she got here. Not because there was anything wrong with this guy in particular. She was sure Robert was a perfectly nice man. But she wasn’t interested in dating him―or anyone else.

  But it seemed that every time she told that to Jade, her sister-in-law simply took it as a challenge. One she seemed determined to win.

  No more. After tonight, Leah was putting her foot down. No more setups.

  Still, that didn’t mean she wanted to be rude to this guy. He was probably just as uncomfortable as she was. As she understood it, he was in one of Jade’s classes at the university, where she was studying for her education degree. He’d probably rather be anywhere than here as well.

  “So, Jade said you have a daughter?” Leah set down her fork to take a long sip of water. If she’d had her way, she’d be at home in a bubble bath right now, after a long week of catering a corporate retreat. Later, she promised herself. Maybe she’d stop at the candle shop on her way home and get something fall-scented―apple cinnamon or pumpkin spice―to add an extra touch of relaxation to her soak.

  “I do.” Robert set down his fork too. “Savannah.”

  “That’s a pretty name.” Leah waited for him to elaborate about his daughter, but when he didn’t, she poked at another forkful of salad.

  “Thanks.” Robert resumed eating as well.

  “How old is she?”

  “Six.”

  “Oh.” Leah’s mind tripped over other possible topics of conversation as she scooped up another bite. Had they talked about the weather yet?

  “Did you hear if it was supposed to snow? It feels like it could.” If she wasn’t afraid he’d think she was rolling her eyes at him, she’d roll them at herself. But it was true. When she’d walked out of the conference center earlier, the air had nipped at her uncovered ears, and low clouds had formed a flat ceiling overhead. It was only early November, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.

  “I hope it doesn’t.” Robert slid his empty salad plate to the edge of the table. “I hate winter.”

  Leah almost dropped her fork. The guy hated winter? Her favorite season? Had Jade gotten no info on him before she’d set them up?

  “A dusting of snow is just what we need.” She kept her voice light. “It will put everyone in the Christmas mood.”

  Robert drew in a breath to speak, and Leah marveled that she’d finally stumbled on a topic of conversation that lasted more than two sentences. But her phone trilled from her purse on the chair next to her. She reached to grab it as people at the nearby tables swiveled to give her dirty looks. “Sorry, I thought I silenced this.”

  She slid her finger to dismiss the call, but when she noticed the number, she couldn’t help the gasp. She’d assumed it would be months yet before she got this call.

  “I’m sorry. I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” She swiped to answer as she hurried toward the restaurant’s doors so she wouldn’t disrupt the other diners.

  “Hello?” Her greeting came out at the same moment the sharp November air hit her skin, sending prickles up and down her bare arms. She probably should have grabbed her coat, but she didn’t care.

  “Is this Leah Zelner?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded matter-of-fact and clinical, with no hint of the excitement Leah could feel building in her own belly.

  “This is Leah.” Her teeth chattered, but she couldn’t tell whether it was from the cold or from the possibility that this was really happening.

  “Ms. Zelner. This is Jen Peters, a caseworker with Child Welfare Services. I see you have completed your home study and that you received your foster and adoption licensing certificates a couple months ago.”

  “Yes.” She said it louder than she intended, and she imagined the woman on the other end pulling the phone away from her ear.
r />   “And are you still willing to take a placement of an older child?”

  Willing? She was more than willing. This was what she was supposed to be doing right now. She just knew it.

  But she forced herself to keep her voice calm. “I’m willing.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. We have a child we’d like to place with you. However―”

  “Yes. I’ll take him. Or her.”

  “Slow down.” The caseworker cut in. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but there are some things we need to go over before you agree.”

  Leah made herself take a breath. She could be professional about this, even if her heart had taken up a giddy two-step. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “First, you should know that Jackson has had some disciplinary issues and has been removed from his last three foster homes because of them.”

  “Okay.” But Leah’s heart had latched onto the name―her child’s name. Jackson.

  “The issues include truancy, fighting at school, fighting with foster siblings, and running away, among others. Do you understand that should you accept this placement, these issues are likely to still be present?”

  Leah swallowed. She’d known when she started this process what she was signing up for. Older foster children often came with special challenges. But that was exactly why she wanted to take in an older child. Babies would always find a home, but older children were often forgotten.

  But Leah could change that. She could make a difference for them. Change their life.

  “I understand,” she answered.

  “I hope you do.” Jen sighed into the phone. “But I’d like to fill you in a little more on his case history. Can you come to the office right now? We have about an hour before Jackson arrives.”

  An hour?

  That was fast. Really fast.

  Leah was good at waiting. She’d been prepared for the woman to say they had a child who would need a home in a month or even a week. But right now?

  That was nowhere near enough time to get everything ready. Sure, the guest bed was all made up, the dresser was just waiting for a young person to stash their clothes in it, and she’d stocked a bookshelf with some of her childhood favorites. But she’d been picturing how she’d make the child’s transition to her home a celebration. She’d prepare a special meal, get a cake from her friend Peyton, and gather all her friends and family to welcome the child. To let the child know that they were going to have more love than they knew what to do with.