Apprentice Father. Irene Hannon

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СКАЧАТЬ officer,” Cate teased her younger brother.

      “Hey, you can’t be too careful these days.”

      “True. But he offered to put me in touch with the police department in his sister’s hometown and her pastor.”

      “That’s a good sign,” Rob conceded. “If you ask me, I think you ought to help the guy out. He’s new in town, has no family around and is trying to juggle what sounds like a demanding job with the needs of two kids. Speaking from the perspective of a single male, I imagine he’s in way over his head and sinking fast.”

      “I think that’s a fair assessment.” Cate propped her chin in her hand and toyed with her mashed potatoes. “And the children are wonderful. But they need a lot of love and attention.”

      “Do you think it might be too much for you?” Her mother gave her a worried look.

      “A challenge, maybe. But not too much.”

      “You’d be perfect for them,” Michelle declared. “And I could help in a pinch, if things get crazy. It would be good practice.” She patted her swelling tummy.

      At her sister-in-law’s comment, Cate smiled. “I think you’re going to have other things on your mind for the next few months. But I appreciate the offer.” She surveyed the table. “It sounds like the family consensus is that I should take the job.”

      “It would be the Christian thing to do,” her mother said.

      “What do you think, Cate?” her grandfather asked.

      She sent him a grateful smile. Her opinionated family could be rather overwhelming, but Pop always managed to inject a subtle reminder that her decisions were, in the end, hers. They’d always been close, and the spry older man had been her staunchest ally when she’d decided to buy a condo despite the protests of her parents and her overly protective brothers.

      “I’m going to pray on it a bit, but I think I’m going to do it. I sense a real need here. Besides, like Mom said, it would be the Christian thing to do.”

      “Whatever you decide will be the right thing.” The conviction in Pop’s tone ended the discussion. “Now where’s that homemade apple pie?”

      As the conversation shifted, Cate looked around at her family, the support system that had gotten her through the tough times. She’d always known she could count on them to lend a helping hand. That was a great blessing. One Clay Adams didn’t have.

      Perhaps, as her mother had suggested, their “chance” meeting today hadn’t been chance at all, but part of God’s plan. If it was, her decision seemed clear. But it couldn’t hurt to ask for guidance.

      Lord, if You don’t think I’m the best person for this job, please let me know. And if You do want me to take it, I ask for strength and wisdom as I deal with these traumatized children. Because helping them heal, giving them a sense of security, bringing joy and laughter back into their lives, will be the biggest challenge of my career. And I don’t want to fail.

      Chapter Three

      “We’re going to the park tomorrow to fly a kite,” Emily told Clay as she handed him a dinner plate to add to the load in the dishwasher.

      He rinsed the plate. “We don’t have a kite.”

      “Yes, we do. Cate stopped at the store today and got one.”

      Clay frowned. He’d told Cate to keep track of expenses, but ten days into the job she’d only requested reimbursement for groceries. Although he hadn’t asked her to take on shopping and cooking chores, he was grateful she had. His kitchen was now stocked with fresh vegetables, healthy frozen entrees and home-cooked casseroles.

      But if she was buying other things—like kites—for the children, he needed to pay her back for those, too. He made a mental note to discuss it with her.

      Clay picked up the plate of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies from the table…another perk of Cate’s employment.

      “Emily and me helped make those,” Josh offered.

      “You did a great job, buddy.” Clay smiled and took another cookie. “They’re the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had. Did you see how many I ate?”

      “Bunches,” Josh said.

      The corners of Clay’s mouth hitched up. “Too true. Emily, are you finished with your milk?” He reached for her glass.

      “No!” Her hand shot out, knocking the glass over and sending a stream of white liquid surging across the kitchen table. Anxiety tightened her features, but at least she didn’t cringe as Josh had when he’d spilled his milk the day after they’d arrived. Clay hoped that meant he was making progress toward his goal of convincing the children that not all men reacted with anger to mistakes, like their father had. But it was slow going.

      “I’m sorry.” Emily’s words came out hesitant and soft.

      Clay sopped up the spilled milk with a dish towel, dropped into a chair to put himself at her level—a technique he’d picked up from Cate—and held out his hand. He’d discovered that quick movements caused the children to recoil in fear and had learned to let them make the connection.

      “It’s okay, Emily. It was a mistake. Easy to fix. We have plenty of milk.”

      After considering his outstretched hand, she inched hers across the table. As she made tentative contact, he enfolded her small fingers in his and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

      “Tell me about this kite flying.” He refilled her glass and set it in front of her before sitting back at the table with his cup of coffee.

      “We saw some kids flying kites in the park today, and we asked Cate if we could do that, too. She said she was a little…” Emily squinted in concentration, trying to remember the word.

      “Russy,” Josh supplied.

      “What does that mean?” Emily sent Clay a quizzical look.

      “I think she probably said ‘rusty.’” Clay tried to stifle his smile. “It means out of practice.”

      “Oh. Anyway, she said she was a little rusty, but we’d give it a try. We stopped at the store and got a kite on the way home.”

      “I’ll show it to you.” Josh scampered into the bedroom, returning a minute later with an inexpensive kite kit. “We have to put it together.”

      “Do you want to do that now?”

      “Can we?” Josh asked eagerly.

      “Sure.”

      Fifteen minutes later, Clay held the bright red kite aloft for the children to admire.

      “Wow!” Josh regarded it in awe. “Cate says we have to run like the wind to make it fly.”

      Even though Cate had put her cane aside and was moving much better than the day they’d met, her limp was still apparent. And the children’s legs were too short СКАЧАТЬ