Fidelity's Love Song: Book FIVE of the HOBBY RUN Variety Praise Band series by Arlene James

Author:Arlene James [James, Arlene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SillyPa LLC
Published: 2019-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Joanna pointed the older boys to the guest house. Clasping hands, they ran up onto the porch. Rising, Matt slipped a hand into the small of Joanna’s back and pressed her to follow the boys, which she did, carrying Andy with her while he gathered up the bags and umbrellas and hauled them along. The last to climb the steps, he tossed the umbrellas into the corner of the narrow porch and opened the screen door to shove the bags inside before turning to take stock.

“I say we strip them here and toss all three into the shower together.”

Joanna nodded. “You do that. I’ll find dry clothes for the two little ones.”

“Deal.”

She snatched up an umbrella and ran across the yard to Maria Alita, who minced no words in her greeting.

“You are taking all three of them.”

“Yes. We need dry clothes.”

“I will get them. But you need to see Clara.”

“The baby nurse? Why?”

“Go see Clara.”

Confused, Joanna hurried over to the baby house and rushed through the open doorway, leaving the umbrella behind. The front room, furnished with a trio rockers and a pair of cots, was empty. Not wanting to call out and awaken or startle an infant, Joanna hurried into the crib room. To her surprise, she found one baby sitting in her crib and Clara holding another in a pink blanket.

“Joanna! Welcome!”

Something shivered through Joanna, an awareness, an intuition. She slogged closer, painfully aware that she was drenched to the skin, her eyes riveted to that pink blanket.

“Thank you. Maria Alita said I should come see you.”

Clara looked to the bundle in her arms. “Mm. See la bebé, más bien.”

The baby. Yes, of course, that was what Maria Alita intended.

Clara crooned in Spanish, shifting the infant as Joanna eased forward.

She caught her breath, seeing silky, black hair framing the cherubic little face of a newborn marred by a split upper lip. The child had a cleft palate.

“Oh, sweetheart. That can be fixed.” Rather, it could be fixed in the U.S., not so much perhaps in Honduras, not if the parents couldn’t afford the necessary surgery. Joanna glanced at Clara. “I guess her parents couldn’t afford to have her treated.”

Clara carried the baby over to a cabinet and opened a drawer, taking out an envelope of papers. She brought the envelope to Joanna, who took it gingerly and extracted the papers inside. They were handwritten copies with the same wordage as Freddy’s adoption papers, but the name on these was different. All except the surname. Appleton.

Joanna staggered, feeling poleaxed, but when Clara thrust the baby at her, she took that tiny body into trembling hands and cuddled it close, trying not to soak the blanket. Clara produced a bottle with a curved nipple and thrust it into the baby’s mouth. She began to suckle, alternately gasping and gulping. Clara tilted Joanna’s elbow, lifting the baby’s head and nodding as the infant began nursing more easily.

In awe, Joanna began to pace, talking to the baby. “I can’t believe you’re here.

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