And if anything could cure her headache, it was that.
Like every case that ever seemed to matter, this one came in to the Center for the Preservation of Religious Rights (CPRR) by way of an anonymous phone call. Matt and Tanner ran the firm as equal partners, but the caller wanted only to talk to “Mr. Eastman.”
Though a dozen situations demanded his attention, Tanner took the call. It was a woman, and Tanner could tell from her broken sentences that she was crying. “They’re … They’re taking our church from us.”
Tanner gazed out his office window. “Who’s taking it?” There was a chance she was a nutcase or a prank caller. But something in the woman’s voice made him think otherwise.
The woman drew a shaky breath. “The city of Benson, Colorado.”
Tanner grabbed a legal pad and sat up straighter. Benson was a suburb of Colorado Springs, the hub for a dozen Christian ministries. Rumor on the religious freedom vine was that Benson was run by a city council hostile to anything remotely Christian.
In the past year Tanner had heard of two situations that very nearly became full-blown national cases, both of which were based in Benson. The first involved a judge who refused to remove from his courtroom wall a plaque bearing the Ten Commandments. The judge took early retirement and the issue was resolved before a case could be filed.
A few months later a public school teacher was told he couldn’t sponsor a community betterment club. The reason? His beliefs might bias students toward his faith. Just as the situation was gaining public attention, the Benson City Council ruled that it could no longer be responsible for community betterment groups. The high school club was dropped and the situation became a nonissue.
“Okay.” Tanner kept his tone factual and prayed it would have a contagious affect on the woman. “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”
Once the woman had control of her emotions, her story was clearer than water. The congregation at First Church of the Valley had a lease arrangement with the city to hold services at City Hall. The woman’s husband was Pastor Casey Carson, who headed up the church and had worked out the lease deal himself.
According to the woman, three weeks ago the church leaders were notified by someone on the city council that they were in violation of their lease agreement. They were ordered to stop holding services at the hall. Four days later a Sunday morning class on transcendental meditation began meeting there instead.
The woman released a tired sigh. “Not only did the city council cancel services, they refused to refund the remaining lease money. We paid for a year in advance. That’s what they asked for and. We had no options.”
Tanner felt his heart engage. “How many months were left?”
“Four.”
Four months of rent money? “That would be thousands of dollars.”
“Right.”
Tanner scribbled as fast as his hand could move. “On what grounds?”
“Violation of contract.”
“Violation?” Tanner’s enthusiasm fell flat. If the church violated some aspect of the contract there would be no case.
“We read the contract and didn’t see it—” The woman was clearly on the edge of tears. “We never imagined that by …”
The woman paused, and Tanner tapped his pencil. “By what?”
“My husband believes there’s only one way to heaven, through Jesus. And … and that’s why they pulled our lease.”
The pencil fell to Tanner’s desk. He eased his chair in a half rotation and stared out his window, across Warner Center and over the Los Angeles foothills. Just when I think I’ve heard it all … “They pulled your lease because of the content of your husband’s sermons?”
The woman’s voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.”
Tanner made an appointment with her for the next day and met with Matt in the conference room before leaving that evening. “It could be big.”
Matt leaned back and stroked his chin. “Could be a misunderstanding.”
There was silence for a moment. “Good point.” Tanner slid a copy of his notes from the earlier conversation across the table.
That’s why he liked working with Matt Bronzan. Matt’s considerable experience as a district attorney tempered his reaction to cases like this one, especially in the early stages.
Tanner considered his partner. Matt liked to say that Tanner was the firm’s fiery energy, its passion and heart. Tanner was at his best in closing arguments, spilling his guts without reservation as though the jurors were close friends privy to his deepest, most intimate feelings. Tanner seldom failed to win a jury’s empathy—and most often its vote. It was what earned him a reputation as the best religious freedom fighter in the land.
But Tanner knew none of it would have been possible on his own.
Matt was the conduit through which Tanner’s energy flowed, a stabilizer with an endless ability to reason and debate prior to trial. He brought to Tanner’s fire a wealth of research knowledge and an uncanny talent for finding perfect precedent cases. There was no way Tanner could have run the firm without him, and after three years Matt was more than a brilliant partner.
He was Tanner’s best friend.
Aside from Jade, of course. The thought of her sent a shot of anxious adrenaline through his veins. What was wrong with her, anyway? He’d waited all his life to love her, to be her husband and share forever with her. So why the headaches? Could she still be struggling that much over the miscarriage?
In a single motion, Tanner pushed his chair from the table and stood. That had to be it. Because he couldn’t begin to imagine the alternatives.
Matt looked up from the notes. “Going home?”
“Yeah.” Tanner reached for his leather bag, his shoulders feeling suddenly heavy. “Hey, pray for Jade, will you?”
Concern flooded Matt’s expression. “The headaches?”
Tanner nodded and exhaled in a way that filled his cheeks. “She can’t get rid of ’em.”
The office air conditioning clicked off, and a somber quiet filled the room. Matt studied Tanner, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”
There was no point hiding the truth from Matt. The two of them had seen enough heartache in their days to know better than to lie to each other. “I am.” A strange mix of anger and sorrow seized Tanner’s heart, and tears stung his eyes. “She can’t be sick.” He blinked twice and worked the muscles in his jaw. “Not now … after all we’ve been through.”
Matt linked his fingers and stared at the floor. When he looked up, he patted the empty chair beside him. “Why wait.” His smile didn’t erase the worry from his eyes. “Let’s pray.”
Tanner’s fingers relaxed one by one, and the bag dropped from his hand. With small, slow steps, he made his way around the table and sat across from Matt. Then they did the one thing that set their business relationship apart, the thing that convinced them their friendship would outlast anything they might do in the field of law.
They prayed.
In quiet unison, heads bowed, they lifted Tanner’s precious Jade to the very throne room of heaven.
An hour later Tanner was tossing a football with Ty out front when Jade pulled up.
“Hey, Dad …” Ty caught the ball and jogged to Tanner’s side. “She looks good.”
It was true. The heaviness in her eyes had lifted, and there was a spring in her step as she made her way from the car to the place where the two of them stood.
Jade grinned at Ty and then at Tanner. Tanner felt his pulse pick up when he saw her eyes well with tears, but then a smile broke across her face. She wrapped her arms around both of them, drawing them close.
“Guess what, guys?”
There was joy in her voice, and Tanner held his breath as Jade lay her head on his shoulder. “I’m pregnant!”
“You are? Yeah!” Ty let out a whoop and tossed the football high in the air.
Elation and relief coursed through every vein, every
inch of Tanner’s body. “Thank God!” He cradled Jade’s face with his fingertips and kissed her, the same way he’d kissed her that night when they first found each other again. His voice was the happiest whisper. “I love you, Mrs. Eastman.”
She giggled and kissed him back. “I love you, too.”
“Come on.” He took Jade’s hand and led her to the house with quick steps. “Let’s call the Bronzans.”
Jade’s quick smile ignited fresh sparkles in her eyes. “Can I call?” She grabbed Ty’s hand and they headed inside together. “Hannah has to hear the news first.”
Tanner stood back with Ty, watching Jade tap out the Bronzans’ number. His heart soared. How long had it been since he’d felt this good? The corners of his mouth felt like they were permanently fixed halfway up his cheeks.
“Hannah, it’s me. I went to the doctor today, and they found out what’s wrong. You won’t believe it …” She squealed. “I’m pregnant!” Pause. “I know. Yes, God is so faithful. Always.”
The phone conversation between the women continued and Tanner closed his eyes. He refused to think of the what-ifs. They didn’t matter anymore; Jade was pregnant! All their prayers had been answered—his and Jade’s, Matt’s, and Hannah’s. They’d each begged God on Jade’s behalf, and now the tiny baby growing inside her was His miraculous reply. Her headaches, the nausea … all of it was for the best reason of all.
Jade was going to have a baby, a brother or sister for Ty. The child they’d dreamed of.
And everything about their lives and the happily-ever-after they were building was going to work out just fine after all.
Five
The phone was ringing as they brought in the groceries. Jenny went back for the rest while Hannah set three bags down on the counter and grabbed the receiver. Her heart still felt light within her. The same way it had felt since hearing Jade’s good news the day before.
“Hello?” Hannah leaned against the counter and gazed out at the ocean.
“Mrs. Bronzan?” The caller’s voice was familiar, but Hannah couldn’t quite place it.
A flock of seagulls filled the sky, standing out against the clear blue. “Yes.”
“This is Edna Parsons from Social Services.” The woman hesitated and Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. “We have a little girl for you.”
Hannah’s breath caught in her throat and her knees went weak. Was it really possible? Had the social worker found the child they’d been praying for? “You … you do?”
Jenny entered the house with the last of the groceries.
“Your file says you’re not interested in the foster-adopt program.” A heavy sigh sounded across the phone lines. “But I’ve worked in this department for twenty-four years. Mrs. Bronzan, there’s no way this little girl’s going back to her mother.”
Anger stirred in Hannah’s heart. This wasn’t the call they were waiting for. It was some sort of mistake. Why were they calling if the girl wasn’t legally free? Hadn’t Hannah and Matt made it clear that the last thing they wanted was to fall in love with a child they might wind up losing? I’ll say we’re not interested … Hannah drew a deep breath. “Tell me about her.”
Jenny came up beside Hannah and arched an eyebrow. Hannah covered the receiver with her hand and whispered, “Social Services.”
Mrs. Parsons continued. “Well … she’s a Caucasian child, four years old. Our department took an anonymous call up in the Santa Maria area. The child was living with her mother in the back of a van in an abandoned field. Her mother worked as a prostitute and was part of a drug ring, one that police have been trying to bust for months. The woman’s been moved to Los Angeles because of an outstanding warrant here. She’s in jail awaiting trial; the little girl is in temporary foster care in the San Fernando Valley.” The social worker paused. “This is the third time the woman has been arrested for drug trafficking and prostitution. It was her last chance and she blew it. There’s no next of kin. The judge has already started the process of terminating the woman’s rights to the child.”
Hannah’s eyes grew wet. “What … What does that mean?”
“The woman goes to trial in two weeks. At that time if she’s sentenced to prison—and she will be—the judge will order the child placed in a foster-adopt home pending termination of the mother’s rights. In cases like this, the child should be legally free within six months.”
Legally free in six months? The thought danced about the surface of her heart. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Hannah pictured the little girl sleeping in the back of a van. If anyone needed a stable family, this child did. Besides, life was full of risks.
And if she said yes … if they were willing to look past the technicalities, she might be a mother again in a matter of days!
Hannah wanted to shout out loud with the possibility, but she bit her lip and locked eyes with Jenny. The mix of emotions in her daughter’s face made her reach out and take Jenny’s hand. Excitement, fear, sorrow. Feelings they were all bound to have throughout the adoption process.
This was only the beginning.
Hannah closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why us, Mrs. Parsons? We made it clear we weren’t interested in taking a child unless she was legally free for adoption.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Phones rang in the background in the office of Social Services, and Hannah struggled to concentrate. She was dying to tell the social worker yes … yes, they’d take the little girl and give her a real bed, a real home, and a family who would love her forever.
But what if something happened? What if somehow the mother’s rights weren’t terminated? How in the world would the child survive then? How would she survive?
What am I supposed to do here, God? Give me wisdom … please.
Edna Parsons drew a deep breath. “I’ve met the girl, Mrs. Bronzan. And, well, she’s very special. Other than a very rough first few years, she’s in perfect health. She’ll be very easy to place. I called you first because I can picture her in your family.”
Hannah opened her eyes and felt the familiar sting of tears. A lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. She swallowed hard, already drawn to the lonely little girl sitting in a foster home somewhere.
A little girl whose name God was even now writing on her heart.
Mrs. Parsons interrupted her thoughts. “I can give you a few days to think about it. If you’re not interested, I need to look through my other files as soon as possible.”
Hannah squeezed Jenny’s hand and nodded, finding her voice once more. “That’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you for thinking of us.” She almost hung up, but then she stopped. “What’s her name?”
She could hear the smile in the social worker’s voice. “Grace …”
Grace.
The moment the phone was on the hook, Hannah led Jenny to a sofa in the next room. Her heart raced and her hands trembled as she faced her daughter, smiling through eyes clouded with tears. “They have a little girl for us. Mrs. Parsons said she could picture her in our family.”
Jenny searched Hannah’s face. “But—” her voice was barely audible—“she’s a foster child, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
Hannah shrugged. She released her hold on Jenny’s hands and leaned back. “For now. She’ll be free in six months. The mother’s in jail, and in a few weeks Grace will be placed in a foster-adopt home.”
“Grace?” A flicker of hope danced in Jenny’s eyes.
“Yes.” Hannah smiled and played the child’s name over again in her mind. Grace. It was a good name, a good sign. It was God’s grace that made the risk worth taking. Somehow the Lord would see them through the adoption process.
Jenny folded her hands, her forehead a mass of wrinkles. “How old is she?”
Hannah reminded herself to breathe. Her mind still spun from the information. The phone call felt like something from a dream, and now that Mrs. Parsons had explained the situation, Hannah could already imagine
the girl coming home in a few days. “Four. She’s been living in the back of a van.”
Jenny’s chin quivered. She stared out the window at the gentle surf and breathed out, soft and slow. Hannah’s heart ached for her daughter and the emotional roller coaster they’d ridden these past years—as well as the one they’d ride in the coming months if they took this child.
Jenny faced Hannah again. There were tears on her cheeks, and she wiped the wetness with the back of her sleeve as the uncertainty in her eyes fell away. In its place a grin formed, one that convinced Hannah beyond a doubt that they were doing the right thing by adopting. “We’re going to take her, right?”
“Well …” Hannah laughed and sobbed at the same time. “When Matt gets home, we’ll talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Jenny’s eyes sparkled and she threw her hands up. “God must want her with us. Otherwise he wouldn’t have had the social worker call.”
Hannah wrapped her arms around her daughter, taking in the warmth of her, the fresh smell of her shampoo. She silently thanked God for sparing this precious child four years ago. Hannah pulled back and searched Jenny’s eyes. “So if we take a vote, yours is yes?”
A smile filled Jenny’s face. “Absolutely.”
When Matt got home an hour later, the decision was unanimous.
Hannah called Mrs. Parsons the next morning and told her the news. “How soon can we have her?”
The social worker laughed. “Within an hour of her mother’s sentencing.”
From the moment Hannah hung up the phone she was bathed in reassurance, grateful for the little one God was bringing into their lives. It was a miracle, really. In two weeks she would be a mother again, sharing the joys of parenting a child who desperately needed love and security, a home and a family that would be hers forever. A miracle that never would have happened if they hadn’t lost Tom and Alicia.
Further proof that God grew fragrant flowers of hope in the ashes of loss.
The days dragged on. More than once Hannah would be out shopping for a toaster or a purse or groceries, and find herself drawn to little girls’ dresses. No, she told herself. Not until the hearing.