Page 115 of A Whim and a Prayer

Winnie nodded, skin tingling at the idea of having a half brother and sister. She glanced down at the birth certificate in her hand, and goose bumps instantly pebbled her skin.

Winifred Joan Rowan

Born: May 1, 1928

Mother: Joan Helene Rowan

Father: _______________

Winnie looked up, brow buckling. “You didn’t know my father’s name?”

Joan swallowed hard and looked away, nervously buffing her arms. “I did, but I didn’t know him very well at the time, Winnie, and truly it’s not important.”

Winnie blinked. “It is to me, Mrs. C. At least I’ll have a name if nothing else.”

Head down, Joan shook her head, hands clutched to her sides. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he represents a time that I just want to forget. He wasn’t a very nice person, so I don’t want to taint my life or yours with the memory of his name.” She reached to give Winnie a tight hug. “So please, sweetheart, don’t ask me who—just let it go for your sake and mine. I’ve long since forgiven him, and I’m asking you to forgive him too, all right?”

“All right, Mrs. C,” Winnie whispered over Joan’s shoulder, but it wasn’t all right. Because that’s when Winnie knew as the blood pounded cold in her brain.

Richard.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Winnie wept for a good hour on and off after Mrs. C left, first in her mother’s arms, and then in her father’s. The only father who really mattered.

When she’d hugged Mrs. C goodbye at the door, promising she would call soon to get together, Winnie had been in awe of what God had done for her personally, setting her free from the pain of abandonment that had plagued her all of her life.

But then right on its heels, sorrow and grief took a shot as the door clicked closed, wringing more pain from her eyes for all her biological mother had gone through. “Oh, Mama, my heart aches for Mrs. C, for all the trials she encountered as a young girl.”

“I know, sweetheart, but through the grace of God, those very trials have made her the strong woman she is today,” Mama said, ushering Winnie back to the sofa between her father and her, gathering her into her arms once more as the tears began to flow. “Like Joseph told his brothers in the Bible, ‘Ye meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save many people.’”

She pulled back to gently brush Winnie’s curls over her shoulder. “And that’s what God did for Joan, sweetheart. What Satan meant for evil in her life—and in yours and mine—God turned around for good. He made each of us the strong women we are today because as the Apostle Paul told the Romans, ‘we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope …’”

“And hope does not disappoint,” her father added, “not when it’s hope in God like ours is, Pooh, and Joan’s. Just look at what that hope has produced, sweetheart”—he squeezed Mama’s shoulder as he leaned to press a kiss to Winnie’s cheek—“He’s given me the love of my life and brought you into our family, so I’ve no doubt He’s done the same for Joan.”

“I hope so, Daddy,” Winnie whispered, falling into his arms with a broken sob. “When I think of how evil Richard was, I am so deeply grateful for you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “And I you, sweetheart—more than you’ll ever know.”

Mama placed a protective hand on Winnie’s back, her tone quiet. “You’ll have to forgive him, you know, Richard, that is.”

Winnie’s eyes weighted closed as she lay against her father’s chest. “I know, Mama, but I don’t know if I can after what he did.”

“You can, Winnie,” Daddy said with a gentle rub of her shoulder. “If your Mother and I can forgive the lowlife who assaulted her, and I can forgive the punk who assaulted you”—his tone suddenly held a hint of tease—“not to mention your mother for all the shenanigans she pulled before we were married—”

A gasp popped from Mama’s mouth as she slapped his hand while Gabe and Alex chuckled. “Mitch Dennehy!”

Winnie grinned, no longer embarrassed by the blatant love affair between her mother and father as he continued on.

“—then I know you can forgive Joan’s lowlife stepfather.”

The smile died on Winnie’s face as she pulled away, hate suddenly welling like the instant tears in her eyes. “Not if he raped a thirteen-year-old girl,” she hissed, “then wanted to drown her baby in the river!”

“We don’t know it was him, Winnie”—Daddy’s voice hardened along with the grip of his hold.

“I do!” she cried as she jerked away. “I knew it the minute Mrs. C refused to tell me who it was. I saw it on her face, Daddy, and heard it in her voice. I have Mama’s sixth sense, and I know she heard it, too, didn’t you, Mama?” Winnie turned, and the sudden drain of color from Mama’s cheeks told her all she needed to know.

Mama swallowed hard before her gaze flicked to Daddy’s with a faint nod.