Margaret Daley - Family Ever After

The nine-year-old pointed toward the couch. “We can sleep there.”

Lindsay drew herself up as tall as possible. “Yeah!”

“They need to stay with me.” Adam’s eyelids drifted closed. Then as if he realized he was falling asleep, he opened them wide. “Dad will…be back. I’m to take care…of them until…he returns which…” His voice faded as his head sagged to the side, his eyes shut again.

“He needs to get his rest if he’s going to get better.” Cara quickly covered the distance to the kids and placed her hand on Rusty’s shoulder.

He jerked away. “No, we’re staying!”

Lindsay backed up against the bed, gripping her stuffed animal so tightly her knuckles whitened. “I don’t wanna leave! I don’t wanna leave!” Tears coursed down her cheeks.

Cara knelt in front of the little girl, her own tears close to the surface at the heart-wrenching sounds. “Adam needs rest to get better. I promise you two I’ll bring you back tomorrow to see him.” She smoothed the child’s dirty hair back from her face. “I never break a promise. You will see Adam tomorrow.”

“In the morning?” Lindsay asked between sobs. “First thing?”

“Yes.” Cara looked over at Rusty watching them.

“He’ll need to know you two are being taken care of while he has to stay here and get well.”

Pouting, Rusty gnawed on his thumbnail.

Cara straightened and presented her hand to Lindsay. “Ready to go?”

The little girl nodded, grasping Cara’s forefinger.

On the drive to the farm, in the rearview mirror, Cara saw Lindsay slump against her brother and fall asleep. But the whole way to Stone’s Refuge, Rusty kept his gaze trained out the side window, staring into the darkness, his jaw set in a firm line.

The closer she came to Laura and Peter’s farm where Stone’s Refuge was, the wearier Cara became. She tightened her hands about the steering wheel to keep her arms from dropping to her lap as though they were deadweight. Noah’s headlights following behind her car comforted her as they left the brightness of the city.

She pulled onto the gravel road that led to the three cottages that housed the foster children and Hannah and Jacob’s home. The lights up ahead beckoned her with the promise of hope.

Father, please find a home for Lindsay, Rusty and Adam to live together. I have a feeling they have gone through a lot in their short lives. They need stability. A place to call home. A place to put down roots. In Jesus Christ’s name. Amen.

Cara parked in front of a two-story house, which was ablaze with lights even though it was well after two in the morning. The minute she climbed from her car, the door opened and both Hannah and Jacob came outside.

Noah lifted Lindsay into his arms and carried her up the steps to the porch with Rusty reluctantly trailing behind the pair. Cara took up the rear, watching as Hannah and Jacob welcomed Noah and the children.

I want a home. I want stability, too, Father. Is this the place for me or should I move on? Show me Your will.

Hannah stayed behind the others and welcomed Cara. “It’s good to see you again. Laura made me promise to call her the second y’all arrived. She’s been worried with everything that has happened lately.”

The mention of the past thirty-six hours caused Cara to falter. She grasped the doorjamb and steadied herself.

“Go on home. I can take it from here. You look beat.” Hannah practically blocked Cara’s entry into the cottage.

“That’s not a suggestion,” she added in a no-nonsense voice.

When Cara entered Laura’s house at the other end of the farm a few minutes later, thankfully her friend didn’t meet her at the door, wanting to know what had occurred with Adam. She wasn’t up to any explanations. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

In the den Cara pulled the hide-away bed out of the couch and collapsed onto the covers without removing her clothes. Sleep immediately whisked her away, and the next thing she knew someone was shaking her awake.

“Mom, you need to get ready for church.”

Cara opened her eyes to a room bright with sunlight and stared up at her eight-year-old son, who loomed over her. Tiny frown lines creased his forehead.

“What time is it, honey?”

“Almost eight.”

She held her groan inside, but she wanted to roll over and pull the covers over her head. Five hours sleep wasn’t enough.

“Why are you dressed to go to work? I thought you were off today,” Timothy asked, pointing to her wrinkled shirt and pants.

Cara forced a smile to her lips, cutting off the yawn building in her. “I’m off. I’ve got to help Laura this afternoon with the barbecue at Stone’s Refuge. Before that, honey, I promised a little girl I would take her to see her brother in the hospital.”

“Is that the person who got hurt at work?”

“How did you know about that?”

“I overheard Laura talking to Peter about an accident at work.” Anxiety that Cara hadn’t seen in the past few months darkened her son’s brown eyes. “I was scared it was you, but Laura told me it was one of the teenagers working at the restaurant.”

Cara hugged Timothy to her, kissing the top of his head. “Don’t you know, nothing could take me away from you? You’re stuck with me.” For the first year after her husband died from a long, painful illness, her son would awaken every night drenched in sweat, crying out for her. Slowly the nightmares disappeared when he realized she wasn’t going to leave him, but every once in a while she saw the fear in his eyes.

Timothy leaned back and grinned. “I don’t mind. You’re a pretty good mom.”

“Just pretty good?” She tackled him to the bed and began tickling his sides. His laughter chased away the problems of the past few days—until a knock interrupted their horseplay.

“Come in,” she called out as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Laura poked her head in. “Hannah just called. Rusty and Lindsay are gone.”

O nce out of the city limits, Noah pressed down on the accelerator. He should have realized Rusty and Lindsay would try something like running away. He’d done his share of that while in foster homes and would have while living with his father if it hadn’t been for his kid sister. He couldn’t leave her there alone with their dad, and there wasn’t any way he would have risked taking her out on the streets.

A picture of the last time he’d seen Whitney, crying, waving goodbye, popped into his mind. He gritted his teeth.

Where are you? Why can’t I find you? The last report from the private investigator he’d hired to search for Whitney hadn’t been promising. The man only had a couple of more leads to follow before he would call it quits.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, Noah had to look twice to realize two kids had darted behind some bushes alongside the highway. He saw a glimpse of pink among the foliage. He hoped it was Lindsay and Rusty.

He parked a few yards from the large shrubbery and climbed from his Corvette. A squeak erupted from behind the bush, then a redheaded boy, dragging a little girl with blond hair, dashed out and ran in the opposite direction. Not again!

“Stop, Rusty and Lindsay!”

They kept going. Noah took after them, his long legs chewing up the distance between them.

When he was a few feet from them, he noticed Rusty glancing across the highway. “Don’t do anything dangerous, Rusty.”

At that moment a pickup came over a rise and whizzed by them. The boy slowed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When he stopped, he bent over and pulled air into his lungs.

Lindsay did likewise, tears streaking down her face. “My side hurts.” She held it and plopped down on the gravel shoulder.