“Ivy. Ivy Rose. How do you like the sound of that?”
The baby grunted and squeaked in her sleep like a newborn pup.
“If you must know, I’m naming you Ivy for the way you’ve wrapped yourself around me quicker than I could blink, squeezing this heart of mine to life. And Rose is for . . . for someone I wanted to help, but I failed her. I won’t fail you. I’ll be stronger for you.”
He brushed his lips across the fuzzy head resting under his chin, inhaling her scent, locking it in his memory. “You are loved, Ivy Rose. You are wanted.”
Harvey turned onto the next street. Fog descended as the cool night air married with the humidity of the day. He peered through the wisp, hunting the moon.
God, if you’re up there . . . I don’t know you. But somehow, I know you know this child. Help me find the person who is supposed to take care of her . . . Amen?
Did God receive simple prayers like that?
A steepled building crept into view as he rounded the bend, a white apparition in the fog. One light glowed in the front, and there was another at the rear.
He walked around to the back. The light illuminated a hanging sign that read THE PANTRY. Cradling Ivy with one arm, he used his other hand to cut the glare on the glass, detecting the outline of baby clothes, diapers, bottles, and formula within.
Harvey’s heart pounded in his chest as he reached for the handle, his breath lodged in his throat. He released the doorknob like it branded him. This wasn’t who he was. But Ivy needed him.
Taking three steps back, he spotted a hedge of chokeberry bushes. He slipped the baby from beneath his shirt and again stowed her under sheltering limbs.
Harvey swallowed to still the slithering sensation in his stomach. He’d never taken anything before. He would grab only what was absolutely necessary and then find another way to provide for her. After talking to God for the first time in his life, this church appeared. So that meant something—right?
He turned the knob and slipped through the door, cringing when the creak of the rusty hinges shattered the still night. Harvey froze and held his breath, listening for any signs of movement within. He left the door open behind him, letting moonlight spill in. Scavenger bag at the ready, he inhaled an odd scent—dank basement melded with baby powder.
He grabbed diapers and wipes. Then he went to the formula, scanning each label in case there was a special kind for new babies. A bottle. A book on baby care. He stood by the door in the silver light of the moon, thumbing pages. His heart hammered loud enough to alert the police in the next county.
Clothes, of course. He chose a purple footed pajama from the rack and held the outfit up, gauging it for Ivy’s size. Tiny as it was, the pajama still seemed too big.
As he stuffed it in the bag, fluorescent light flooded the room from overhead. Harvey’s heart jumped to his throat and stopped beating.
“Hey! Sss-stop . . . thief?”
Harvey held up his arms in front of his face, squinting for the source of the uneven voice that accused from the shadowed stairs. He backed toward the door.
“Hey. I mean it. Stop.”
Harvey’s feet rooted to the spot.
CHAPTER
FOUR
PRESENT DAY
Ivy stared out the window at the headlights on the other side of the highway. Seth’s voice droned on beside her, the background noise to her thoughts. He’d been on a call since he picked her up. Something big must be going down. Usually there were flowers and compliments on her dress. Tonight he hadn’t bothered to get out of the car, hardly glancing in her direction.
She shifted toward him in the seat when he finished the call. “Everything okay?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You seem distracted.”
“Just work stuff. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
She placed a hand on his knee. “If it’s a part of your life, it’s a part of mine.”
His gaze flicked downward. “What are you wearing? That’s not the dress Mother sent over.”
She tugged her dress-length sweater back over the exposed yellow fabric of her dress. She’d thought he would like it. It was bright and fun, the cut of the fabric elegant. At least she thought so.
“I’ll get the shop on the phone right now. Mistakes like that are completely unacceptable.” He straightened his white tuxedo tie and grabbed his phone from his lap.
“They didn’t send the wrong dress, I—”
He huffed and smacked the phone back down on the console. “Closed. Of course they are. That is the last time I purchase from—”
“Seth.”
“I am so embarrassed this happened. That dress is . . .” He sucked air through his teeth and shook his head.
“They didn’t make a mistake.” Heat pricked behind her eyes. “I was just in the mood to wear something with a little color. Something fun.”
He locked his focus on the road. “Darling, we talked about this.”
Like Alice in Wonderland drinking a potion, she shrank as she swallowed his tone. Soft and firm, as though he spoke to a wayward child.
“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb. This is a black-and-white function. You’ll be the only one in color.”
Ivy blinked rapidly and clenched her hand. Her nails bit into her palm. The taillights ahead became blurred red orbs. “I . . . I didn’t realize . . .”
“The invitation I sent over said as much. I’m trying to help you find your place, but you refuse to follow simple instructions. I don’t understand you.”
Ivy winced at the tightening in her chest. “I’m sorry.” Her phone rang inside her purse. Desperate for any escape from this discussion on her endless string of faux pas, she answered without looking at the ID.
“Where are you? I thought you’d be here by now.” Concern tinged the rich timbre of her childhood friend’s voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in months.
She flipped through her mental calendar. Had she forgotten a birthday? Some celebration? “Reese? What are you talking about?”
The line went quiet for a moment. “Ivy, sweetheart, have you spoken to your mom or dad?” His solemn tone sent her stomach churning.
“I missed some calls from Mom, but I’ve been so rushed I haven’t called her back yet.” Her voice cracked. “What . . . what’s going on?”
Ivy glanced up. The car felt like it had lifted off the asphalt as they darted in and out of traffic. Seth’s jaw was set. The speedometer’s needle crept higher. Her heart rate climbed. “Seth, please. Slow down.”
“Ivy, are you still there? You’re with someone?” Reese’s voice jerked her attention back to the call.
“Yes, I—”
“Good, good. Listen, you need to come home. Your grandma’s not doing well. The doctors are trying to make her comfortable, but that’s all they can do at this point. She’s lucid, telling everybody who will listen that ninety-four is a good long run, and she’s ready to see Jesus. But she’s asking for you.”
An ache swelled in her middle and tightened her throat. “How long does she have?”
Reese sighed. “They’re not sure. But I would hurry. She’s a fighter, but she’s tired.”
“Of course. I just need to run home and change and I’m there.”