Healing Autumn's Heart

“I’m Matt Graham,” he said, and a light chuckle found its way into his words. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m just—” he visibly swallowed “—very happy right now.” He cleared his throat, shook his head then ran a hand through black wavy hair. “I’m sure that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but Autumn hasn’t smiled—” another clearing of his throat “—hasn’t been this happy in quite a while, and I can’t tell you what this means.”

Matt Graham. She’d heard the name recently, but couldn’t place it. However, it wasn’t his name that held her interest. It was his statement. His little girl—Autumn—hadn’t been happy in quite a while. She seemed happy now, beaming at Hannah.

“Well, Autumn, do you like the dollhouses?” Hannah asked.

The little girl opened her mouth, then closed it and smiled again. And Hannah realized that she’d barely noticed the dollhouses since entering the display area. Instead, she seemed more interested in … Hannah.

Hannah glanced up at Autumn’s father and found herself drawn to the easy smile he had for his daughter, to the sky-blue eyes bordered with thick black lashes, and to the fact that those eyes glistened with emotion for his little girl. He was a striking man, not only in appearance but in the unharnessed emotion that seemed to shine from his very soul.

She silently told herself to get a grip. He was this little girl’s father, a lady’s husband, and Hannah had no right to notice his eyes, or his smile, or the way that his love for his little girl made her own heart flutter. One day, she’d have a husband and a child, and her husband would look at their son or daughter that way, the way he looked at his daughter now.

“Autumn? Do you like the dollhouses?” he asked, in an obvious effort to get her to respond to Hannah’s question.

“Yes,” she whispered, but again, she didn’t look at the houses. And her next words didn’t have anything to do with them at all. “You’re like Mommy.” Her dark eyes grew wider, and she moved closer to Hannah. Then she reached out and gently, with a feather-soft touch, as though she didn’t know whether Hannah was real, pressed small fingers against Hannah’s cheek. “You’re like her.”

Hannah didn’t move, didn’t breathe. The child was so embraced in the moment that she didn’t dare break the connection.

Then Autumn’s mouth quivered, and she blinked. “I miss her. I miss her every day.”

Hannah looked up to the man who stood grounded to the spot and whose eyes were definitely wet now. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. And Hannah didn’t need him to. She’d been around that look of sadness enough to know. Autumn, this precious little girl with eyes that appeared as though they’d seen a lifetime worth of sorrow, had already lost her mother.

Hannah fought for composure and attempted to keep her own feelings at bay, since her mind immediately catapulted to that day twelve years ago when she told her own mother goodbye for the last time. This little girl was so young. Hannah had been thirteen and still struggled each day to understand why her mother was gone. Autumn appeared to be five or six, about the same age as the children Hannah taught in her class at church.

God, please help her. And help me to help her. I know how much it hurts to lose a mom.

Autumn’s palm was still on Hannah’s cheek when Mr. Feazell drew back the curtain and announced, “Hannah, guess what? I found some!”

The little girl dropped her hand, and Hannah took a deep breath, the intense moment broken.

“Oh, hi,” Mr. Feazell said to the pair. “I didn’t hear the bell, didn’t realize we had people checking out the display. How do you like it?”

Matt Graham nodded to the toy store owner, but only took his eyes away from Hannah and Autumn for the slightest second before looking back at them and answering, “It’s amazing.”

Hannah had no doubt that he wasn’t talking about the dollhouse display.

“I know,” Mr. Feazell said, completely unaware of the dual conversation taking place. “Hannah ran the idea by me, and I thought it’d be good, but I had no idea …” He shook his head. “It’s uncanny how much it looks like the real square, isn’t it? Hannah has a knack at really touching the heart of things, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Matt Graham answered.

Again, Hannah knew for certain that he wasn’t talking about the dollhouses. And she had touched the heart of something here, but she didn’t quite know what. All she knew was that this little girl had been sad, but now she seemed happy.

And as a result, so did the compelling man standing before her.

“Well, Hannah, I finally found these. They’ll make it even more authentic for sure.” Mr. Feazell stretched out his hand to display a palm filled with tiny geese.

Hoping to ease the tension in the room, Hannah gave Autumn a soft smile, then reached for the gaggle of geese in Mr. Feazell’s hand. “They look perfect.”

“I thought they’d be a nice touch since, you know, those geese are always hanging around. Hey, maybe you can even put some folks on benches around a fountain and maybe have some bread on the ground in front of the birds. Now that would be realistic, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would,” Hannah agreed.

Mr. Feazell tilted his head and curled his lower lip in as he studied the little girl’s father. “You look familiar,” he said, tapping his chin, “but you’re not from Claremont, are you?” Then, before he could answer, Mr. Feazell snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. I remember. You’re the new doctor in town, aren’t ya? Over at the General Physicians Building, right?”

“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Matt Graham.”

Hannah now knew why his name had sounded familiar. She’d read the article in the paper about the new doctor in town and had been happy to learn that Claremont had a physician with “big city experience,” as the paper had defined it, since he’d previously practiced medicine in Atlanta. She’d also been surprised at how young he’d looked, and how undeniably handsome. She’d seen her share of doctors over the years and none of them had looked anything like Matt Graham.

“Ted Feazell,” Mr. Feazell said, shaking his hand. “I own the Tiny Tots Treasure Box.”

“You have a nice store here.”

“Thanks,” Mr. Feazell answered. “Hey, I hear you’re doing a good job over there at the center. I saw the write-up in the paper. Come from Atlanta, right?”

Obviously, Hannah wasn’t the only one impressed that an experienced doctor had moved to town.

“Yes.” He didn’t offer anything more than that, and Mr. Feazell didn’t press the issue.

“Well, we’re glad you found your way to our little neck of the woods. Claremont is small, that’s for sure, but it’s got everything you need.”

Matt Graham nodded and glanced at Autumn, now tenderly touching one of the geese in Hannah’s hand. “I’m glad we found our way here, too.” He smiled. “Very glad.”

Hannah’s skin tingled with his smile, and she wondered what had really brought Matt Graham—Dr. Graham—and his little girl to Claremont. Surely a doctor from Atlanta would know that there wouldn’t be nearly as many patients in a town as small as Claremont.

But more than wondering why the new doctor had come to town, Hannah also wondered how long it had been since he lost his wife and since Autumn had been without her mother. She had said that Hannah was “like Mommy.” What did that mean? Did Hannah favor her mother? And if she did, would it really be smart for Hannah to try to help her? What if she got confused and actually thought that Hannah was her mother? And if Hannah did favor Autumn’s mother, then didn’t that mean that she also favored Matt Graham’s wife?

She glanced at him, still looking directly at her with those sky-blue eyes, dark black lashes, mesmerizing smile. She’d been with her sister that day, when the article had come out in the paper. Jana had pointed to the photo and playfully asked if Hannah felt a cold or cough coming on. Or any other reason for her to go visit the town’s attractive new physician.

Hannah realized she was staring, and what’s more, so was he. She jerked her attention to the geese in her hand and asked, a little too loudly, “Autumn, would you like to put them by the fountain?”

Mr. Feazell chuckled. “Hannah, maybe you’ve been working too long. I haven’t brought you the fountain yet. Remember, I wanted to try to find that three-tiered one, so it’d be like the one in the square?”

Hannah looked at the empty spot in the middle of the display where the fountain should go and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

The old man laughed again and glanced over his shoulder. “You know, I did see another box of the miniature accessories in the middle of the store. Maybe that’s where that fountain is. Tell you what, Autumn. That’s your name isn’t it—Autumn?”

She nodded, her long curls bobbing with the action.

“Would you like to come look at all of the things we have for dollhouses and maybe help me find that fountain for the display? I bet Hannah might even let you put the geese around it, assuming we find it okay.” He grinned. “Sound good?”

Hannah knew Mr. Feazell was merely conducting business in his own way, showing off the toys that he thought would most appeal to the little girl. But Autumn smiled, and her father did too.

“Would you like to go look at the dollhouse things and try to help Mr. Feazell find that fountain?” he asked.

Autumn nodded, pressed her fingertips against Hannah’s cheek again then turned to the toy store owner. Mr. Feazell grinned and held open the curtain for her to pass through, and Matt Graham gently patted her back as they left.

“I love you, honey,” he said.

Autumn paused. She looked at him, then at Hannah, and then at her daddy again. “I love you, too.”

One hand moved to Matt Graham’s chin and stayed there as he watched Autumn walk away with Mr. Feazell.

The display area, which had seemed expansive all morning as she situated the mass of dollhouses, suddenly grew smaller as Hannah realized that she and Dr. Matt Graham were now alone.

She cleared her throat and stood, her knees popping loudly from kneeling so long. He didn’t seem to notice and appeared more intent to use this opportunity to talk to her than to comment on her noisy joints.

“Your name is Hannah?” he asked.

She was a little embarrassed at the fact that she hadn’t thought to introduce herself. “Yes, Hannah Taylor.”

He shifted the curtain aside and glanced into the store. Then he let the thin navy fabric fall back into place. “I didn’t want her to hear,” he said softly. “But I want to explain.” He breathed in, let it out. “Autumn hasn’t smiled and has barely spoken since we lost her mother. So when she smiled at you, when she spoke to you …” He pulled the curtain aside and glanced at his daughter again, then turned back to Hannah. “It was like watching a miracle. It’s been two years.”

Two years.

“Do I look like her mother?” In Hannah’s mind, that was the only reasonable answer for why the child would have come out of her shell today.

But he shook his head. “No. Rebecca had long curly red hair.” He smiled, obviously remembering his wife. “And lots of freckles.” Then his eyes seemed to be drawn to Hannah’s shirt, or more precisely, to the small pin on her left chest. “Rebecca had breast cancer.”

Hannah swallowed past the lump in her throat, and her hand instinctively moved to the pink ribbon pin. “You think she saw my pin from out there?”

“I don’t know, but somehow you reminded her of Rebecca.” He indicated the pin. “You’re a survivor, aren’t you? You’ve had breast cancer, too.” His eyes moved to her short hair, still growing back from her last round of chemo and radiation.

“I am. Actually, my sister and I are both survivors,” Hannah said, always finding it easy to smile with the thrill that they were both in remission now. “But we also lost our mother to breast cancer, like Autumn. So I know how much it hurts.”

He tilted his head, curiosity at Autumn’s awareness still evident on his face. “Well, for some reason, she was drawn to you. Whether it was the pin or not, I can’t say. But you got more words from her in the last ten minutes than three child psychologists did in two years.” He paused. “Or than I have, since her mama died.”

Hannah remembered her silent prayer, asking God to let her help this little girl. He’d undoubtedly granted her request. “Maybe because I’m meant to help her? God has His plans, you know.”

That made him smile, and Hannah couldn’t deny the impact that his smile had on her heart.

“Just now, when she told me that she loved me …” He inhaled, let it out, and seemed too overwhelmed to finish.

“She hasn’t told you that she loves you,” Hannah said, “in two years?”

He shook his head, looked as though he wanted to say more, but remained silent.

“Bless your heart,” Hannah whispered.

He stepped closer. “I know this will sound a little odd, but I think maybe you’re right. Maybe the reason I picked this town, the reason Autumn and I are here, is because of you.”

Hannah’s mind reeled with the statement. What was she supposed to do now? What was she supposed to say?

Thankfully, his laughter broke through her dilemma. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that made you feel. It’s just that I’ve been hoping, praying for a breakthrough for so long, and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, here you are, and Autumn speaks. And smiles. It’s … Well, I’d have to say it’s an answered prayer. And in all honesty, I haven’t prayed a lot in the past two years. Didn’t really have a reason to trust in the power of it anymore.”

Hannah found herself relaxing again. This was something she could relate to, because of her own father. “But now?” she asked, still wondering what role God planned for her to have in his daughter’s life. And, maybe, in this man’s life?

“Now I’m thinking I may need to send up a prayer of thanks,” he said, grinning.

A rush of elation filled Hannah, and she was shocked with the undeniable excitement of the request God had granted. Autumn had been silent for two years. She’d been sad and quiet, and Hannah had no doubt that her unhappiness had caused Matt Graham to be unhappy, too. But today she’d smiled.

And so did he.

Hannah made a conscious decision to try to make both of them smile again. If God had given her this gift, then she intended to use it to her fullest ability.

Mr. Feazell yanked open the navy curtain barrier and entered the display area with Autumn by his side. She walked directly to Hannah and handed her a small three-tiered fountain.

“Here,” she said, grinning with obvious enthusiasm that they’d found the perfect fountain. And it did look exactly like the one that centered two large oak trees in the town square.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, then she motioned to the square gray area in the center of the display. “Can you place it in the middle there? Then you can put the geese around it, like they are in the square.”

“Okay.” Autumn concentrated on putting the fountain in the right spot, while Mr. Feazell moved between Hannah and Matt.

“Well, that’s good,” he said softly, watching Autumn situate the geese around the tiny fountain.

“The fountain?” Hannah asked.

“No, her talking,” he said. “She never said a word while we were back there searching through all of that stuff, and I wasn’t sure she could hear me there for a second. Glad she’s okay.” The bell sounded on the front door. “Hey, more customers,” he said excitedly then darted back through the curtain.

Hannah watched Matt Graham’s eyes soften toward his daughter before he looked back at Hannah. “She’s only talking around you,” he mouthed, and Hannah feared he was right.

Now she understood that God had done more than merely grant her request. He’d given her a challenge, and she nodded, determined not to let Him—or Matt Graham—down.

“Autumn, I have a lot to do if I’m going to finish this display before the First Friday celebration next week,” Hannah said. “Do you think you could come here each afternoon after school and help me out, if it’s okay with your daddy? I could sure use your help.”

Matt nodded his approval at this suggestion.

“And you can come anytime you want tomorrow,” Hannah added, “since it’s Saturday. I’ll be here most of the day.”

Autumn’s smile claimed her face. “Can I, Daddy? Please?”

“I believe that could be arranged,” he said. “If Ms. Taylor is sure that we won’t be in her way.”

“Hannah. You can call me Hannah, Dr. Graham.”

“I’d like that,” he said, “but only if you call me Matt.”

“Okay,” she said, unable to hold back a grin. “Matt. And no, you won’t be in my way at all.”

“Then I’d love to bring Autumn to help.”

Autumn stood and wrapped her arms around his legs. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He scooped her up and held her close, kissed the side of her head and looked directly at Hannah. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes said it all. Dr. Graham—Matt—was getting his little girl back, because of Hannah. And because God had granted her request, an opportunity to help Autumn. “Thank you, Hannah,” he said. “You have no idea how much this means to her, and to me.”

Hannah’s heart hummed with excitement as the two left the display area. She looked at the new world she’d created with the array of dollhouses and thought about Autumn’s world, and how it’d become a little bit brighter today after her visit to the toy store. After her visit with Hannah. Hannah had made her smile. And she’d made Matt Graham, the handsome doctor, loving daddy and undeniably intriguing man smile, too.

Thank you, God.

Chapter Two

“It just doesn’t seem right, that they’d make you wait through the weekend. I never understood that. Those doctors did it that way with your mother, and I told them back then how frustrating it was, but they still did it, and now they’re doing it again with Jana and with you. I guess they do it to everybody. But it isn’t right to leave people hanging like that.” Bo Taylor sat on the cushioned visitor bench in the display area while Hannah gathered the craft paints she’d need for the next dollhouse, the town square’s candy shop.

“Daddy, sometimes it takes several days for the labs to complete the test results. And if my appointment is near the weekend, they can’t help it that the testing isn’t done before the end of their workweek. I’m sure the doctor will call Monday or Tuesday.” She eyed the candy store dollhouse then glanced out the toy store’s window to see the real Sweet Stop Candy Shop across the square. Her replica still needed an awning, patio tables outside and candy displays inside, but she should get all of that taken care of today with Autumn and Matt Graham’s help. Hannah couldn’t wait for them to arrive. She’d been looking forward to seeing the little girl all morning. And truthfully, she also looked forward to seeing Matt Graham. In fact, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the handsome doctor since he left yesterday.

“Hannah? Did you hear me?” Her father gave her a frown and lifted one dark brow, a look that said he’d been waiting for her response, and of course, she’d been so absorbed in thinking about Matt and Autumn Graham that she hadn’t heard the question.

“What did you say, Daddy?”

“I said I simply can’t stop worrying about you and your sister, and these doctors don’t make it any better by making us wait when you get those tests done every three months.”

“Well, after this set of screenings, I’ll have been a year in remission,” Hannah happily reminded, “then I’ll only get tested every six months, so you won’t have to worry so often. And Jana only gets hers done annually now. If I keep getting clear results, I’ll eventually move to that category, too.” She grinned. “Hey, maybe then we can set up our tests on the same day, and you’ll only have to worry once a year.” She laughed.

He didn’t. “You just wait until you have kids one day. You’ll see how easy it is not to worry,” he said, pointing a finger at her and squinting one eye to punctuate the statement. “You’ll see, when you have kids.”

Hannah instantly remembered Autumn’s hand against her cheek and recalled the warmth that spread through her at that sweet child’s touch. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, kids make it worth the worry. And we’ll have another little one soon, won’t we? With Jana’s baby, I mean. I was so worried when she told us she was having a baby, but I admit I can’t wait for that little girl to get here. Thank goodness her pregnancy has gone well … so far.”

Hannah put down the paints, turned toward him and rested a hand on his knee. Her mother, Dee, had been the worrier in the family. After she passed away, Bo Taylor had taken over the role. “Daddy, Jana’s baby will be here any day. The doctor says that little Dee is healthy and that Jana is doing great, so there’s nothing to worry about there either.”

“I know,” he said, looking a little guilty for always being so troubled, “but I’ll breathe a little easier when that little angel is here, safe and sound.”

Hannah hated it that her father had such a hard time finding peace of mind. It would be so much easier if he’d somehow find a little of the faith he’d lost when her mother died. Hannah thought of Matt Graham and his words from yesterday.

“In all honesty, I haven’t prayed a lot in the past two years. Didn’t really have a reason to trust in the power of it anymore.”

She’d understood what he meant, because she’d watched it firsthand with her father. If he’d turn his worries over to God, he’d be a lot happier, a lot calmer. She’d tried time and time again over the past twelve years to get him back in church, to help him find a relationship with God again. That was what he needed more than anything, and Hannah wasn’t ready to stop trying to help him yet.

“Daddy, why don’t you come to church tomorrow? We’re having the annual fall fellowship on the grounds after the morning service.” She squeezed his knee. “It’d be good for you.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know, Hannah.”

“Think about it,” she said, “for me, and for Jana and the new baby. You know we’ll all be attending church every week, me, Jana, Mitch and baby Dee. You know you’ll want to sit beside all of us on the pew every Sunday.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half grin. “You aren’t ever going to give up on getting me there, are you?”

“Don’t plan on it.”

The other side of his mouth joined in and he gave her a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Hannah turned toward the candy store dollhouse, picked up the red-and-white-striped awning she’d found for the entrance and ran a bead of craft glue along the top. Then she placed it above the shop’s entrance and held it to bond. She glanced at her father and saw that he’d leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and set his mouth in a tight, firm line. She assumed he was trying to decide what to do about church. Hannah thought he’d come close to returning to God a few times over the past decade, but something always held him back. Maybe a new baby in the family and thoughts of the future would prompt him to return.

God, help him come back to church. Help him come back to You.

She reached for a paintbrush to put the store’s name on the redbrick building and then heard her father’s deep sigh. Placing the brush back in the glass cup, she sat back on her knees to look at him.

He was forty-nine now, his hair still dark for the most part, with a patch of silver at each temple and a bit sprinkled above his ears. His build was that of a man who jogged daily, because that was one of his rituals since Hannah’s mother had passed, running several miles each morning to relieve the stress. He had a healthy tan and was dressed neatly in a pale blue button-down shirt, jeans and the same style of light tan work boots that he’d worn as long as she could remember.