Child of Her Heart

Cover Page

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

Epigraph

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Copyright

When she finally turned off the light, Sonya wished for the comfort of someone to talk to…

But without a telephone, she was unable to call anyone. No, she was on her own now—either to succeed or to fail. But I’m not on my own, and the thought brought her upright in bed. She turned on the light and rushed over to the luggage piled in the corner where she found the white Bible.

“God,” she whispered, “I feel awful neglecting You all these years, and then turning to You when I’m in trouble. But truly, God, I have no place else to turn. Was it necessary for me to be brought this low so that I’d realize how I was straying from my childhood faith? If so, help me now. Direct me to some words that will give me peace of mind and help me through this night and the difficult days ahead.”

Sonya had no doubt that God heard her prayer, and she opened the Bible to the book of Psalms and read aloud, “’When I said my foot slippeth; thy mercy, O Lord, held me up.’”

IRENE BRAND

This prolific and popular author of both contemporary and historical inspirational fiction is a native of West Virginia, where she has lived all of her life. She began writing professionally in 1977, after completing a master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself full-time to her writing.

After a long career of publishing magazine articles and devotional materials, in 1984 her first novel was published by Thomas Nelson. Since that time, Irene has published fourteen contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles with publishers such as Zondervan, Fleming Revell and Barbour Books.

Extensive travels with her husband, Rod, to forty-nine of the United States and twenty-four foreign countries have inspired much of her writing. Through her writing, Irene believes she has been helpful to others and is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her truly inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters of strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives.

Child of Her Heart

Irene Brand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And we know that all things work together for the good to them that love God, to them who are the called, according to His purpose.

—Romans 8:28 (KJV)

Chapter One

If you get burned, you’ll have to suffer alone with the blister!

The thought flashed unbidden into Sonya Dixon’s mind as she paced the floor of her third-story apartment. With her marriage crumbling around her, why would she remember a remark her father had made over two years ago? She had paid scant attention to what he had said then, and she hadn’t thought of the words since, for she had loved Bryon so much it hadn’t occurred to her that the future could hold any problems.

Sonya paused at the double windows, pulled the heavy draperies and watched as darkness settled over Omaha. She opened one of the windows and shivered at the hint of frost in the air. In the distance she heard a school band playing at a football game. Seemed like only yesterday she had changed the clocks to daylight saving time, looking forward to a long summer of fun, but the wonderful season had ended in a nightmare of misery and frustration.

You might as well stop dawdling and deal with that letter, Sonya’s conscience prodded, but she stared out the window until the streetlights came on and the scent of exhaust fumes stung her nostrils. The room behind her was unlit, but when she turned, the white envelope lying on the floor made a little island in the darkness.

She picked up the letter, flipped on a light, kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the couch.

“It’s only a joke, so why should I let it upset me?” she muttered. She crushed the letter in her hand, refusing to read it again. When the telephone rang, Sonya threw the wadded paper across the room and, with a smile, lifted the receiver.

“Okay, Bryon, it was a good joke, but I didn’t appreciate it much,” she said immediately.

“Sonya?” The voice on the line wasn’t Bryon’s. “Oh, Mother.” Sonya’s smile faded and disappointment drenched her spirit.

“What was that all about?” Marilyn Sizemore asked. “What joke has Bryon played on you?”

“Only a little argument between us, Mother. I’ll tell you about it sometime. What’s new with you?”

“What’s new with us?” she gasped. “You write and tell us we’re going to become grandparents again, and then ask, ‘What’s new?’ What could be greater news than that? Are you feeling all right?”

“Sure, I’m great. I’ve been to a doctor, and he’s says I’m right on schedule. So don’t worry about me.”

“How’s Bryon? Is he excited?”

“He’s a little slow to catch on to the idea,” Sonya said dryly. “How are Dad and the rest of the family?”

“Everything is fine here.” Her mother rambled on about news of the family in Ohio, and Sonya made the proper responses when her mother paused.

“Say, Mother, I’m expecting a call from Bryon, so maybe we shouldn’t talk any longer.”

“Is he away?”

“Yes, on a business trip.”

“But you always go with him. Are you sure you’re all right, or are you keeping something from me?”

With a laugh, Sonya tried to assure her mother. “You’re borrowing trouble. I told you, I’m fine.”

“I want to be there for the birth. You say the baby is due in March?”

“Yes, around the first of the month. Goodbye, Mother. Thanks for calling.”

Sonya terminated the conversation with relief. Bryon was sure to telephone in a few minutes, and she wanted the line open.

While she waited for the phone to ring again, Sonya surveyed her surroundings. Plush brown sectional furniture rested on a beige carpet. The draperies picked up both the brown and beige tones of the other furnishings. A superscreen television stood in one corner of the room with two reclining chairs arranged around it Bryon’s golf and bowling trophies dominated the mantelpiece. Most of the wall hangings had been gifts from Bryon’s parents, as were the two antique oriental vases on the end tables. Mrs. Dixon had found the vases in China when they had stopped there on their round-the-world tour last year.

“Be careful of these, Sonya,” her mother-in-law cautioned. “If Tom knew what I paid for them, he would cancel my credit cards.”

With trembling hands Sonya lifted a framed portrait standing beside one of the vases. Their wedding picture! All of her friends had been envious because she had been the one Bryon had chosen—he was considered the catch of the university campus.

It was not only the splendor of his tall, well-muscled body that made Bryon attractive, but he was handsome, as well. His eyes and hair were brown, his teeth straight and startlingly white, and he possessed a personal magnetism that had captivated Sonya at their first meeting.

Sonya’s blond beauty marked a vivid contrast to Bryon, although she, too, was rather tall with a slender body. In the picture her large blue eyes gleamed soft and gentle and happy. Long blond hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Sonya fingered the short curls covering her head now and wished she had never complied with Bryon’s wishes that she cut her hair.

When the phone hadn’t rung by ten o’clock, Sonya prepared a vegetable salad and turkey sandwich and took them to the living room. She placed the food on a snack tray and went back for a cup of hot tea. She avoided the dining area, although she should have been accustomed to eating alone, after the past six weeks.

Sonya turned on the television to watch the news while she ate. She had no interest in what was happening outside her own walls, but she needed to hear the sound of a human voice.

While she watched the numerous commercials leading up to the newscast, Sonya couldn’t forget the crushed letter lying beside the couch.

“Good evening,” the anchorwoman’s voice entered the room. Sonya listened as the anchorwoman reported the world’s events, yet Sonya’s thoughts kept returning to the crisis in her own life.

The doorbell rang, and Sonya eagerly flipped off the television. Had Bryon forgotten his key? She ran to the door and jerked it open, kicking the letter to one side as she did so.

“Bryon, what do you think—” Sonya began, but the words died in her mouth. “Oh, hello, Leta, I thought Bryon had forgotten his key again.”

Sonya didn’t want to be rude to her neighbor, who owned the apartment building and lived across the hall, but could she possibly listen to Leta’s problems tonight?

“Are you busy, Sonya?” Leta Barton’s dark eyes wore a woebegone expression, and Sonya couldn’t turn her away.

“No, come on in. I’m waiting on a call from Bryon.”

“I thought he was due home yesterday.”

“I thought so, too, but apparently I was mistaken in the date. Do you want a sandwich or some tea? I’m having a late dinner tonight.”

“I’m too mad to eat, but I’ll take some tea.”

Sonya brought a cup and the pot of tea and placed them on the table in front of Leta. “Help yourself.” Sonya sat down opposite her friend, who had curled her petite frame into a roomy chair. Leta looked lovely as usual, Sonya noticed, with her coffee-brown skin and dark hair complemented by the rust and gold hues of her stylish autumn dress.

“That woman has been bothering me again,” Leta said.

In the two years they had lived beside Leta, her neighbor had gone through a second divorce, and Sonya had been obliged to hear a blow-by-blow description of each shattering episode.

“She follows me around. Everywhere I go, she’s there. If she wants my ex, she’s welcome to him, but I want her to leave me alone.”

Sonya had often given Leta advice on how to deal with her marital affairs, but tonight any suggestions she might offer seemed almost laughable.

“I’m sorry you’re having these problems, Leta, but I don’t know what you can do about it.”

“I’m going to protect myself—that’s what. I’ll go to the police and get a court order of protection, and if she comes near me again, she’ll have a court official to deal with. She stole my man, and now she’s trying to drive me crazy.” Her black eyes sparkled, and she poured another cup of tea.

Sonya knew Leta wasn’t serious. She had listened to her vent her frustrations before.

“Surely she must have some reason for her behavior.”

“She’s jealous because the judge awarded me a huge settlement so I can live in this luxury apartment She thought when she got my husband, she would get all of his money, but my lawyer took care of that. With these apartments, I’m set for life.” Leta laughed delightedly.

“Then if you’re fixed for life,” Sonya advised, “you shouldn’t bother about her. If you just ignore her, maybe she’ll leave you alone.”

Leta took a swig of tea and stood up. “Oh, I’d never make trouble for her. My ex-husband will bring her enough grief, believe me. But it does help me to let off steam talking that way. Thanks for listening.” As she started toward the door, Leta saw the crumpled letter. She stooped to pick it up and handed it to Sonya.

“You’d better put that in the wastepaper basket. You know how touchy Bryon is about a messy apartment.”

The letter felt like a hot potato, and Sonya had the urge to throw it from her again. She locked the door behind Leta, and with the paper still in her hand, she paced the floor for several minutes. The smell of tea and salad dressing was strong in the room, so she stuck the paper in her pocket, took the dishes to the kitchen and placed them in the dishwasher.

Maybe I was mistaken. Perhaps it didn’t say what I thought it did. She took the sheet from her pocket and straightened it.

Dear Sonya,

I want out! Since you’re so delighted with the little cherub, you can have it all to yourself. I won’t be coming back. Pack my clothes, and I’ll notify you where to send them. It was fun while it lasted.

Bryon

Again she thought of her dad’s remark about the blister. Had he realized even then that Bryon would be an unstable husband? Her parents had objected to her marriage, but she had thought it was because she had left college at the end of her sophmore year to marry Bryon, who was going to take her to Nebraska to live.

When they had voiced their concern to Bryon, he’d said, “I’ll send her to college. The Omaha branch of the University of Nebraska is only a few miles from where I’ll be working. No problem—she’ll get her education.”

Bryon had soon forgotten that promise, and because he had been determined to have her with him all of the time, she hadn’t argued about it. She couldn’t complain about his attention to her during their two years of marriage. He’d rented this luxurious apartment, where he often entertained business associates and their wives. He needed a hostess for those affairs, and Sonya couldn’t do that and go to college. At times Sonya had marveled at the ease with which she’d given up her dreams of graduation and becoming a social worker simply because Bryon had asked her to do so. Actually, Sonya had been extremely flattered that Bryon had loved her so much he hadn’t wanted her out of his sight, but in light of Bryon’s behavior the past few weeks, she had occasionally wondered if Bryon really loved her that intensely, or had he been selfishly thinking of himself, always wanting her at his beck and call. Whenever these thoughts occurred, Sonya had felt guilty and unfaithful. Of course Bryon loved her! He was an ideal husband.

In his position as vice president of a brokerage firm, Bryon traveled frequently, and he wanted Sonya to travel with him. How could she have been so fortunate—a country girl from Ohio having an opportunity to travel to so many large cities and resort areas? They had lived a perfect honeymoon existence until that afternoon in early August when she had come home from the doctor.

She was sure of her pregnancy even before she had consulted the obstetrician, but she hadn’t told Bryon about it. She suspected he might be displeased, but she hadn’t anticipated the depth of his wrath.

He’d been dressing for a dinner party when she’d scurried into the apartment In her excitement, she had forgotten about the engagement.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it. You have only thirty minutes to dress. Where have you been?” He was buttoning his white shirt and poring over his tie selection on the closet door.

Sonya laid aside her purse. “I’ll shower quickly and dress.” It was a relief to put off telling him.

Before she entered the bathroom, Bryon repeated, “Where have you been?”

“To the doctor.”

His hands stopped in the midst of fashioning his tie, and he turned quickly.

“Are you sick?”

Sonya was gladdened by the concern in his voice. Bryon had never talked much about his childhood, but once he had mentioned that when he was in elementary school, his mother had been sick, and he’d been sent away to live with his grandmother for two years. “That was the saddest time of my life,” he had said. Perhaps he was afraid if she became ill, he would be abandoned again, but surely that wasn’t a normal reaction for an adult

“Are you sick?” he repeated.

Sonya couldn’t control the smile that spread across her face. “No…I’m pregnant.”

Abject silence followed her statement. The anger spreading across Bryon’s face took away any desire to talk that Sonya might have had, and Bryon looked as if he had been struck speechless. When he found his voice, Sonya cringed with fear.

“Pregnant,” he shouted, and Sonya feared Leta would hear him. “Why have you done this? I told you to take care of that sort of thing before we married. Why did you allow this to happen? You know I don’t like kids.”

And why didn’t he? He ignored the children of their friends so much that she was often embarrassed by him.

“I’ve used the same type of birth control since we were married, but any doctor will tell you that no method is completely safe,” Sonya said, hastening to defend herself.

“Well, you march yourself right back to that doctor in the morning and have him do something about it.”

“What do you mean?” Sonya asked, and she sat down on the water bed to still her trembling legs, but the sway of the mattress made her dizzy.

“I’ve told you I don’t want kids. Get rid of it”

“You don’t mean an abortion?” Sonya cried.

“Certainly. That’s no problem anymore.”

Sonya’s shock turned to anger. “Forget that, Bryon Dixon,” she said. “You’re as much responsible for this child as I am. You’ll have to learn to like it.” She went to Bryon and put her arms around him, speaking more tenderly. “You might not like kids now, but your own child will be different It might be fun to have a baby.”

He jerked away from her. “Babies stink. They cry. They vomit on you. This apartment would be crowded with toys, a crib and dozens of other things. How can I entertain my friends with a baby here?”

“The Shraders have children, and they give delightful parties.”

He looked at her appraisingly. “But think how you’ll look. Your beauty will be ruined forever. I want a wife to keep me company, not one who sits home breeding.”

Surely he didn’t consider her a possession, like the trophies he so proudly displayed on the living room mantel. Sonya’s pulse raced, and her head throbbed. Bryon couldn’t be saying these things!

He gave his tie a final jerk and bolted out the door without waiting for her.

He hadn’t come home until early morning. It was the first night they had spent apart since their marriage, but certainly not the last one as she soon found out.

Trying to rid her mind of the incident, Sonya laid aside the letter and picked up the evening newspaper. But she could barely skim the headlines because her mind continued to think about Bryon. His behavior during the past weeks had changed completely from their first two years of marriage. He had never before spent long evenings away from home or gone on business trips without her. Now, if he entertained his friends, he did so somewhere else rather than at the apartment. He never mentioned her pregnancy. How could the mere mention of a child cause a man to change so much?

Sonya had ignored his changed attitude. When he was home, she prepared his meals. She looked after his personal needs as she always had. She hadn’t nagged at his long absences. When they talked, she acted as if their relations were normal, even after he started sleeping in the guest bedroom.

Sonya privately nursed her hurt, fully believing that when the baby arrived, Bryon would be happy about it And even with his letter, she still couldn’t believe that he would actually leave her. They had shared such a beautiful love. How could he change so quickly?

If it had been true love, he wouldn’t have changed, her conscience needled.

Sonya didn’t go to bed until after midnight as she tensely awaited a telephone call and listened for the sound of his key in the apartment door. Then she felt his arms around her, and they shared the bliss that she’d missed so much. She gave a glad cry, which awakened her, and she sobbed when she realized that he hadn’t come home—she had been dreaming.

As she struggled out of bed the next morning, she shuddered when she looked in the mirror.

“No wonder he left me,” she moaned.

The combined effect of morning sickness and Bryon’s rejection had caused her to lose weight. As yet, she didn’t outwardly show her pregnancy, but she was only a shadow of the beauty queen that Bryon had pursued. She hadn’t slept well for weeks, and the black circles under her eyes made her appear old and haggard. Even her hair looked listless and drab.

While she sat on the side of the bed waiting for her nausea to lessen, she felt a slight movement in her womb, the first outward sign she’d had that a new life grew within her. She pressed her hand to her stomach. It had been so fleeting, just a fluttery feeling, really. For a moment she thought she’d only imagined it. But no, it had been real. A real baby lived and grew inside her now. The idea was almost overwhelming.

I can’t do much about the weight loss, Sonya thought as she examined her image in the bathroom mirror, but I can at least do something with my hair. I’ll call the beauty salon for an appointment

By the time Sonya returned from the beauty shop, the mail had been delivered, and she looked eagerly through the collection of bills and junk mail hoping for a letter from Bryon saying it was all a mistake. Nothing!

Sonya put the bills in the desk where Bryon would find them and trashed the other items.

Knowing she couldn’t go through another night of suspense, Sonya finally dialed the brokerage firm and asked for Riley Shrader. Riley and his wife, Lola, were close friends.

“Hi, Riley,” she said. “This is Sonya.”

“I didn’t know you were back, Sonya. How did you like San Francisco?”

“Oh, I didn’t go with Bryon this time. That’s the reason I telephoned. Do you know when he’s returning? I looked for him day before yesterday, but I must have been wrong. Has he been delayed?”

A long silence ensued, and Sonya said, “Riley, are you still there?”

“Yes,” Riley answered, and his voice sounded strained. “I was checking to see if I could find Bryon’s schedule. I don’t seem to have it.”

“Then I won’t bother you anymore. Let me know if you learn anything.”

Why had Riley thought she’d gone with Bryon? Had he told his friend that? She had wondered why Lola hadn’t telephoned during the past week. Had Bryon shared his dissatisfaction with the Shraders?

Sonya settled down to another evening of waiting and wondering. Surely Bryon would telephone tonight, if for no other reason than to learn her reaction to his letter.

When the bell rang at eight o’clock, Sonya moved weakly toward the door. This had to be Bryon, but she took the precaution of checking through the peephole. Riley and Lola Shrader stood in the hallway.

“Have you heard from Bryon?” she whispered as she opened the door. “Is there something wrong?”

She swayed on her feet, and Riley led her to the couch.

“Steady, Sonya,” he said. “I’m sure Bryon is all right. We stopped by to check on you.”

“I appreciate it,” Sonya said hoarsely. Her mouth felt dry and hot.

“You don’t look so well,” Lola said. “Are you sick?”

“I’m pregnant,” Sonya admitted. Because of Bryon’s attitude, Sonya had told no one except her parents about the baby. “I’m having the usual morning sickness, and I’m not sleeping well. I’m tired all the time. The doctor says this is normal, and that I’ll feel better soon.”

Riley and Lola were the parents of three children, and Sonya expected them to be happy about her condition, but instead, tears came to Lola’s eyes, and Riley refused to meet Sonya’s gaze.