The Storekeeper's Daughter by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page B

that there was no mother or baby waiting to greet him, and Mr. Stevens’s grim look gave no comfort, either.
    “Shelby, the boy’s mother, phoned me this morning.”
    “And?”
    “I’m sorry to say she’s changed her mind.”
    “About the adoption?” Jim’s face heated, and it was all he could do to remain seated.
    The lawyer nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so, and as you already know, she has the right to do that.”
    Jim jumped up. “But she can’t back out now! Linda and I were counting on this adoption. We’ve come a long way to get the boy.”
    “I’m aware of that, but you knew there was a chance this could happen. I’m sure your lawyer advised you of the birth mother’s rights.”
    “Yes, he did, but we hadn’t heard anything to the contrary since we signed the papers on our end, so we assumed—”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Scott. I’m sure once you explain the details to your lawyer, he will try to find you another child.”
    Jim trembled as he fought for control. “What details? Why did the birth mother change her mind at the last minute? I need to have something to tell my wife when I show up without the baby.”
    Mr. Stevens nodded toward the vacant chair. “Please be seated, and I’ll explain.”
    Jim remained firmly planted in front of the desk with his arms folded.
    The lawyer shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Shelby said after thinking it over, she’s not able to part with her son. She’s had him a whole year and has grown quite attached.”
    “Then why in thunder was she planning to give him up for adoption?”
    “If you wish to hear the rest of the story, then I insist you calm down.”
    Jim drew in a deep breath and sank to the chair. “I’m listening.”
    “The birth mother and the baby have already bonded, and she feels her son will be better off with her.”
    “That’s ridiculous! What can an unwed mother give a child that my wife and I can’t?”
    “In a material way, probably nothing, but she does have a mother’s love to offer her son.”
    “We would have loved him.” Jim clenched his fingers until they were digging into the palms of his hands. “I own a successful painting business. We could give the boy a good upbringing, and he would lack nothing in the way of material things.”
    “I’m sure that’s true, which is exactly why your lawyer should have no trouble finding you another child.”
    “So that’s it then? There’s nothing more to be said?”
    “No. I’m sorry.”
    As Jim stood, a sense of defeat crept into his soul and wrapped itself tightly around his heart. How could he face Linda and tell her they had no son? There would be no grandbaby to show off to his folks in Ohio. The truth was, there might never be.
    Without another word, Jim stormed out of the lawyer’s office, slamming the door behind him. When he climbed into his van and drove away, it felt like a fifty-five-gallon drum of paint rested on his shoulders. He headed out of Bel Air, up Interstate 1, and onto Highway 222 toward Pennsylvania, wondering what he could tell Linda that might soften the blow.
    He gripped the steering wheel and clenched his teeth. “If there’s a God in heaven, why would He have allowed this to happen?”
    Two hours later, when Jim drove into Lancaster County, he was still fuming. “I need to get myself calmed down before I go back to the hotel.” He rolled down his window, but a blast of hot, humid air hit him full in the face.
    Snapping on the air conditioner, he turned off the main road and drove aimlessly along the backcountry roads. Over a covered bridge, past several Amish farms, he went farther and farther. A sign nailed to a fence at the end of a driveway caught his attention: HOMEMADE ROOT BEER—$3.00 A GALLON.
    He turned in. “Root beer won’t solve my problems, but it might take care of my thirst.”
    ***
    Since Zach was happily crawling around on the clean floor, Naomi decided to tackle the kitchen cupboards. The girls had finished