Marta Perry - Mission - Motherhood

That sounded ominous. Anna seemed to read her expression and laughed.

“Nothing bad, I assure you. Her husband was transferred to a post in the Northeast, and naturally she and the children went with him.”

“He was in the military, I gather.”

Anna nodded. “Almost everyone in town has some connection to Fort Bonnell, in one way or another. Now—” she rounded the desk “—let me show you our facility and get you started.”

She hadn’t imagined being hired that quickly, let alone starting, but she followed the petite blond human dynamo out of her office for a whirlwind tour of the building.

Children of the Day was housed in a gracious slate-blue Victorian on a quiet side street just off Veterans Boulevard, Prairie Springs’s main drag. Sheltered by shrubbery and a white wrought-iron fence, the charming Victorian looked more like an elegant private residence than a nonprofit foundation.

“As you can see, the first floor is dedicated to the organization.” Anna waved at the volunteer who was seated behind a desk in the welcoming lobby area. “The kitchen downstairs is for the staff and volunteers, so don’t hesitate to use it. My mother and I have our private apartment upstairs.”

“Is your mother involved with Children of the Day also?”

Anna smiled. “My mother does a little bit of everything, all with great enthusiasm. You’ll see where I get my energy when you meet her. She also runs the grief center at Prairie Springs Christian Church. I think she mentioned that your nieces are involved in her children’s program.”

Something else Caitlyn hadn’t known. She’d have to ask her mother about that. At least the twins were apparently getting some professional help.

Anna led the way to the next room. “This is Laura Dean. Laura, meet Caitlyn Villard, our new care coordinator.” Anna paused by a desk in the room behind the lobby.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caitlyn.” The slim young blonde flashed a welcoming smile. “Especially since I’m sure you’re going to take some of the load off my shoulders.”

“Laura is officially our secretary, but like everyone else, she does whatever needs to be done. And she does it very well, by the way.”

Anna was out of the room before Laura could respond, but Caitlyn guessed Laura was probably used to that.

“This will be your office.” Anna ushered her into a high-ceilinged room with windows looking onto a side lawn. It had probably once been a modest parlor, with its small fireplace and beautiful molding, but was now furnished with a computer desk and file cabinets. Several maps were pinned onto a bulletin board on the wall.

Anna waved at the small blue pins that dotted the map. “Those are places where we have programs. We provide food, shelter, medical care, educational programs—anything we can to alleviate the suffering of those touched by war.” Anna’s passion was impressive.

“It’s a big job.”

“A huge job,” Anna agreed. “Those projects are ongoing, and they’re already established and running well. What I need you to do is coordinate the kinds of services we provide for individual special needs that arise frequently.”

“I see.” She didn’t, but surely she was going to get more explanation than that.

Anna bent over the desk for a moment and brought up a file on the computer. “Here’s the project I want you to start with. There’s very little information yet, but you’ll read everything we have.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Ali Tabiz was orphaned and injured in the fighting. We’ve been contacted by Dr. Mike Montgomery, a surgeon with the army currently stationed in the Middle East. We’ve worked with him for a while. Little Ali may need heart surgery, and Mike wants him brought here to see a pediatric cardiac surgeon. That’s your job.”

So she was supposed to get a minor foreign national out of a war-torn country and bring him to Texas for treatment. She couldn’t even begin to ask the questions that flooded her mind.

“Don’t panic,” Anna said. She pulled out a black three-ring binder. “Our last coordinator was very organized, and we’ve done this sort of thing many times. She’s outlined a step-by-step process with all the things you’ll need to do.”

Caitlyn grasped the binder as if it were a life preserver and she were sinking under the waves. “Good. I’m going to need it.”

“You’ll be fine. And I’m just across the hall. Come to me with any questions.” She frowned slightly. “Dr. Mike is usually in touch via e-mail, but sometimes things get pretty hot where he is.”

“You think that’s why you haven’t received any other information?” That must mean that the child was in a dangerous place, as well.

“Probably, but we won’t waste time. You can start by alerting the medical facilities and personnel we normally use that we’ll have a case coming their way. Once we know more, you can get the details nailed down.”

Someone tapped on the frame of the open door, and Caitlyn turned to see Sarah, the kindergarten teacher. “Anna, you’re needed on the phone. It’s some CEO who wants to make a donation and won’t talk to anyone else.”

“Okay, I’ll take it. Never turn down an eager donor.” Anna was gone in an instant, leaving Caitlyn with her mouth still open to say goodbye.

She looked at Sarah, who stood there smiling, probably at her expression. “You didn’t tell me she was a whirlwind.”

Sarah laughed. “How else would she get everything done? Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it.” She waved and disappeared, leaving Caitlyn staring blankly at the computer screen.

She found she was still clutching the binder. All right. She could do this. She needed a job, and here it was. She wouldn’t let anything keep her from succeeding at it.

An hour later she was feeling far more confident. As Anna had said, her predecessor had been organized.

She’d already made several calls, and she’d been pleasantly surprised by her reception. The physicians and hospital administrators had obviously worked with Children of the Day in the past and were perfectly ready to jump into the new project. As soon as she had some more information—

That was the sticking point. No one could do anything until they learned a bit more about the case. She checked the e-mail inbox again, feeling a flutter of excitement at a message from Dr. Montgomery. Maybe this was what they needed.

She clicked it open, and a small face appeared on the screen. This, clearly, was Ali Tabiz.

Big brown eyes, short dark brown hair, an engaging smile. According to the brief statistics attached, the little boy was five, the same age as the twins, but he looked—what?

She grappled for the right word. He was small, maybe suffering from the shortages that went along with having a war in your backyard, and there was a bruise over one eye. But he didn’t look younger than the twins. In a way, he looked older, as those dark brown eyes seemed to hold a world of sorrows.

“Cute kid.” The voice, coming from behind her without warning, startled her so much that her hands jerked from the keys, and she swung around. It was Steve Windham again, this time in uniform. Somehow it made him seem even taller, his shoulders even broader. Or maybe that was because she was sitting down.

She shoved her chair back, standing. “Steve, hello.” She noted the bars he wore. “Or should I say Captain Windham?”

He shook his head, giving her that easy smile. “I’m Chaplain Steve to everyone. Since we’re old friends, I’m just Steve to you.”

She wouldn’t, she decided, exactly call them old friends. “First the elementary school, now Children of the Day. Are you following me?”

His grin widened. “Afraid not. Not that that’s not a good idea.”