Mixed Blessings
A routine medical exam told widowed Marie Cadant that her little boy had been switched with another at birth. But when she tracked down wealthy Peter Hallock– the man who had her biological son– she was surprised to find another single parent, and one eager to love not just his own child, but hers, as well.Even as they struggled to keep their children close despite their far-flung homes, Peter was intrigued by Marie' s inner strength and deep faith. He prevailed on her to accept a marriage of convenience for the children' s sake, then faced the challenge of convincing her that despite the circumstances, theirs was a marriage truly made in heaven.
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“We can talk here.
Do you have any other children?”
Turning back to face Peter, Marie steeled herself with a gulp of air. “The only other child I have is in your house.”
An agonized roar tore from his chest as he bolted to his feet.
“Mr. Hallock, I have to see my baby.”
“We don’t know for sure that Luke is your son.” Even as he spoke, his face flushed. Was it from anger, or guilt?
Marie felt sick at how she’d torn this man’s world apart, but she couldn’t leave without learning the truth. “What does he—your son, Luke—look like?”
“You’re not getting my son.” His eyes bored through her. His volume dropped ominously, but the rumble carried conviction. “The Hallocks are never losing another child.”
CATHY MARIE HAKE
walked five miles uphill in the Southern California snow (both ways) every week to check out books from the library. Then she grew up. Discovering the real mystery and adventure in life was men, Cathy fell head over heels for romance. She married the high school sweetheart she met at church, and now has two kids, two dogs and a fulfilling job as a nurse and Lamaze teacher. She enjoys writing stories that combine love and faith in a romance you can believe in.
But God commends His own love toward us,
in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
—Romans 5:8
To Andrea, who had faith with me and in me.
To Krista, who held my hand through cyberspace. To my family, who believed and waited with me. To Deb, who blessed me with her insights. And most of all, to the Lord, for His mercy and grace.
Dear Reader,
In my other life, I’m a Lamaze teacher. (Yes, it’s an absolutely delightful profession.) One night, after class, a father-to-be asked, “What if the worst happened? What if our baby got swapped?” He was thrilled to learn our hospital allows daddies to stay with mother and child the whole time. That lucky baby girl has a father who loves her, wants her and is protective.
If an earthly father wants good for his daughter, how much more does the Heavenly Father want for His daughters? Luke 11:13 says, “If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?”
Even then, we all have problems. Burdens. Tragedies. Marie and Peter experienced one of the worst imaginable. Their hearts were torn, their faith tested. In the end, the Lord helped them see the potential, the blessings and the triumph He sees when asked to be with us as we walk the path set before us.
My prayer for you is that you will hold tight to the Heavenly Father’s hand on the days you skip with joy, and that in the dark of night when all you have are tears, you’ll know the comfort of His drying them. All we have to do is ask.
I’d love to hear from you. You can write to me through my Web site http://members.aol.com/cathymariehake or through Steeple Hill at the following address: Cathy Marie Hake c/o Steeple Hill Books, 223 Broadway, Ste. 1001, New York, NY 10279.
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter One
“Mr. Hallock, the Cadant woman is out here. She pulled right up to the gate and is blocking the driveway. I’ve already notified the police.”
Peter Hallock gripped the receiver. “I’ll be right there to handle her. Don’t let her in.” He slammed down the phone and headed for the front walkway. This woman had pursued them zealously, and he was going to put an end to it—here and now. No one threatened his son.
Four days ago, she’d tilted his world when she called and introduced herself, then rasped, “We have to talk. I— I have your son.” Peter could see Luke with his nanny just outside the window, so he’d hung up and immediately called them inside. He refused to accept three other subsequent calls from Ms. Cadant.
When Ms. Cadant persisted by sending a letter marked “Urgent!” via next-day mail, he consulted a security specialist and returned it unopened, as recommended. He also hired a security guard. Worried, he’d taken off from his job as the CEO of the local hospital. Luke was the joy of his life, and as long as there was even a hint of danger, Peter would do everything in his power to safeguard his son. At the moment, that meant confronting the woman. He’d make it clear she’d tangled with the wrong man.
He couldn’t believe she had the gall to show up—but that just reinforced how dangerous and mentally unstable she must be. Each long, purposeful stride he took down the cobblestone walkway took him away from his son’s giggles that spilled from the backyard and closer to the opportunity to tell Marie Cadant she’d gone too far.
When she came into view, Peter felt a jolt of surprise. Marie Cadant wasn’t anything like what he’d expected. Instead of a vampy siren or an unkempt bag lady, she looked like an ordinary, albeit pretty, housewife. She stood beside the open door of a road-weary blue sedan. A snarled skein of shoulder-length, buttery yellow hair glowed in the midday sunlight. It framed big blue eyes and dimples. Her rumpled apricot-colored dress looked like she’d sneaked a nap in it, and the run in her nylons called his attention to ankles that were just as trim as the rest of her.
