Once in Every Life

She paused and looked around. The small farm lay shrouded in semidarkness, but she could see how well the place was tended. The fences were straight and strong, the house was nice and white. Everything was in perfect repair. But there were no loving touches. No flowers lining the walk or curling around the base of the oak tree, no flower boxes along the porch. No wind chimes hanging from the overhang. There was only a scrawny, half-dead wild rose that twined around the porch rail and crept up the post.

She set the bucket down. It hit the rocky dirt road with a sloshing clank, spilling warm liquid across Tess's bare feet. Turning, she glanced back at the barn and thought

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about her talk with Savannah. It had gone well. Talking was just a little thing, a gentle movement forward, but it was something. A beginning.

Tess thought about her own lonely childhood, about how much it would have meant for someone to take a moment to reach out to her. She'd been so starved for acceptance and affection that even a simple little thing like a smile would have meant so much. Somehow, she was certain that life was similar for Savannah. The girl was afraid to believe in Tess because her mother had obviously ignored her for a very long time, but through the fear was a kernel of hope. A wish and a prayer.

For the first time since waking up in this century, Tess felt a sense of purpose and a stirring of hope. A shadow of her old zeal came back. She could help these people. Ease their tired hearts and make them laugh. And maybe she could bring a little laughter into her own soul at the same time.

She'd known the moment she'd seen Jack that he needed someone desperately. The pain in his eyes had drawn her; the pain and something more. She hadn't known what it was then, but now she understood. She'd been drawn by a sadness she understood all too well. The aching loneliness of someone who longs to be part of a family and can't quite fit in.

No wonder she'd been drawn like a moth to the flame of his heartache. They were kindred spirits, people on the fringe of happiness. Close enough to touch it, yet too frightened to reach out, too afraid of rejection to step up and say, "I want."

But no more. She and Jack and these children were connected now. A family. And they all needed one another. All she needed now was a plan. She bit her lower lip and frowned, trying to analyze the situation. She had to look at this family as a long-term project. She wouldn't

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solve it all at once, wouldn't heal a lifetime's worth of wounds with a single bandage, but she was used to that. She'd spent ten years of her life in cancer research?the first four had been spent isolating a single cell. Yes, if there was one thing Tess had, it was patience.

She thought about Jack and smiled. If there was one thing she'd need in dealing with him, it was patience.

By the time the girls had left for school, Tess was beginning to think she'd been a tad optimistic. Cancer seemed like a bump in the road compared to the ills in the Rafferty family.

Breakfast had been a horrible affair. She'd been so flabbergasted by the tension in the family that she hadn't been able to offer anyone more than a wobbling, tentative smile. And that had only served to make everyone jumpier.

They didn't even eat together. Katie sat at the table? alone?pushing her food around with her fork and rarely taking a bite. The whining squeak of tin on crockery rang in the too quiet room like fingernails on a chalkboard. Savannah stood at the sink, wolfing down her food without ever speaking or making eye contact with anyone. And Jack.

She sighed. Jack. He hadn't even remained in the house. He'd eaten out on the porch.

The whole ordeal had lasted less than ten minutes. Tess had been just gearing up to say something?although she hadn't figured out what?when Jack rammed his dishes in the sink and disappeared. The girls gulped down the rest of their food, shoved the dishes in a bucket of water, and followed him out.

Tess had been left alone, stunned into silence by the show.

It had been almost an hour since they'd left the house,

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and she still hadn't moved. She sat at the kitchen table, her elbows planted on the hard wood in front of her. A cup of strong, bitter coffee was between her elbows.

Tess plopped her chin in her hand and let out a sigh. She couldn't help it. She was ... lonely. The house was depressingly quiet.

At least at the foster homes, people had talked to her. This morning with Savannah had just served to reinforce how isolated she was here. How alone.

Suddenly Jack burst into the room. He saw her and stopped dead. The door banged shut behind him.

"Amarylis!"

Tess felt a flood of relief at simply seeing another person. She grinned up at him. "Hi."

He glanced uncomfortably out the window. For a moment she thought he might jump. "I guess I'd best get going?"

"Wait." She lurched to her feet. "Have a cup of coffee with me. We could talk."

His eyes bulged. He stared at her as if she were deranged. "I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll talk. You can sort of ... grunt and nod."