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Child of Her Heart
Irene Brand
HER BABY…OR HER MARRIAGE?Sonya Dixon thought her marriage was perfect. Her handsome and successful husband, Byron, truly loved her. Or did he? The night Bryon learned she was pregnant, Sonya's world fell apart. He demanded she choose: her baby…or their marriage.Sonya could never give up her baby. But with no home and little money, her life seemed hopeless. Then Daniel Massie, a kind and tender attorney, showed her that strength and hope were just a prayer away. Was her life truly over, Sonya wondered…or was it just beginning?Welcome to Love Inspired™–stories about life, faith and love that will lift your spirits and gladden your heart. Meet men and women facing the challenges of today's world and learning important lessons about life, faith and love.
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u81ed1a5d-6e24-52ca-9218-5b0c9d23e2ea)
Excerpt (#u566ac547-17cd-505a-b722-e0af9e60281e)
About the Author (#u721838aa-12ce-524f-903d-ebe70b70b9b1)
Title Page (#u3527d512-b889-5f81-b613-1666d091ddd5)
Epigraph (#ueed5f900-2c38-5295-8ff2-589ebaf0c1b1)
Chapter One (#u4f4ff5a4-9656-570b-a908-ff16e3a174db)
Chapter Two (#uec4c8a2a-81d5-5887-8ffd-8bf76e354bc5)
Chapter Three (#ucba7048a-07d5-51f1-be73-33eb85bdbba8)
Chapter Four (#u0b358254-5533-5e62-8414-290cefcfa124)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
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 (http://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 (#ulink_51e48a0b-a879-5a9a-a54c-c3740369aeb9)
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.
