A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

  “Let her love me again, Lord. Make her believe me.” Ben did love Maggie. He knew that now more than ever, more than at any point since their first meeting on that long-ago summer’s night. Maggie was the only woman he would ever love, and Ben wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and soothe away the years of hurt and lies and anger. The years when she must have thought daily about her child, yet was unable to share those feelings with him because of her desire to meet his standards.

  And now where were they?

  The reality of their situation hit him harder than ever before. Maggie wanted a divorce. Having kept her feelings locked away for so long, she was no longer willing even to consider working things out with him. The thought terrified him until he realized something else. He loved Maggie’s child. If Maggie refused to come home, if she no longer wanted anything to do with her daughter, he would continue to pursue Amanda’s adoption.

  “I love that little girl, God,” he whispered into the still, night air. “Like she was my own flesh and blood.”

  As his tears eased, he begged God to work a miracle in the situation … pleaded that somehow, when this nightmare was over, the three of them could be something none of them had ever been before.

  A family.

  30

  The finally come.

  Now that it was here, Maggie noticed something that made her heart soar. It happened while she sat stiffly in a padded folding chair with the members of the group forming a protective circle around her. There, in the midst of them, she realized the darkness was gone.

  She closed her eyes and they filled with tears of gratitude.

  “Most of you know why we’re here.” Dr. Baker stood in the center of the circle, her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie felt the presence of the Holy Spirit as tangibly as if God Himself were standing there beside her. “Maggie has had a significant change of heart, and this afternoon she asked if we could meet here and pray for her.” Dr. Baker turned to Maggie. “Do you want to say anything to the group?”

  She nodded and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I want to thank you for … for being honest with me.” She sniffed once and then took a tissue from Sarah, who knelt at her side. “Sarah and Betty and … ” Maggie looked at Howard and smiled, “and you, Howard, for being bold enough to be honest with me even when you knew it might make me too mad to ever come back.”

  Her watery eyes made their way around the group until she had connected with each of them. “You’ve taught me that depression isn’t something strange or unusual, that people who love God very much can suffer in the pit of darkness and still be believers.”

  There were gentle smiles from the group members; Sarah wiped at the tears that were now running down her face. Maggie knew she might not have another chance to say all that was on her heart, so she continued. “I used to think believers couldn’t be depressed. Or shouldn’t be. If a person trusted God and prayed and read the Bible and really had faith, then there was no room for things like depression, right? Christians who were depressed must have something wrong with them, or they didn’t trust God enough. That sort of thing.”

  Maggie couldn’t stop the small, sad laugh that escaped her. “Then I found myself fighting depression … and losing. So I was sure there was something wrong with me, that I just needed to trust more.” She firmed her shoulders. “But I know now that was all wrong. The problem is something else entirely. Too many of us have been afraid to be honest, afraid that by being honest, our spouse or daughter or sister wouldn’t love us. God wouldn’t love us. We haven’t felt able to walk and live and love in the abundant sunshine of God’s honesty and grace. I know I didn’t feel able … until now.”

  Dr. Baker squeezed Maggie’s shoulder, encouraging her. “So, I wanted to ask you to come here, to pray for me. Pray I’ll find a way to be honest with the people who matter in my life.” Her throat tightened with emotion, and she looked down at her hands. “It’ll take a miracle to save my marriage … ”

  She looked up, met the eyes watching her again, and went on in a whisper. “But then, God’s done far greater things. I only have to look at the cross to remember that.” She hesitated as a fresh wave of tears slid down her face. “I know you’ll be okay when you leave here. We all will be so long as we remember how very big our God is, and how unconditional His love is. Even if we never see each other after this, I know we’ll meet again. Because I believe God will see us through. Thank you, each of you.”

  Maggie’s words faded into silence, but she didn’t mind. It was true … she would survive. God had brought her, as He’d brought so many others, out of the darkness into the sunlight of His grace and joy.

  Before they started to pray, Maggie remembered something else. “You know some of the specifics of my situation, but I need you to pray for something else.”

  “Whatever it is, just tell us, Maggie.” Sarah handed her another tissue and waited expectantly. “We’ll pray daily, you know we will.”

  Maggie nodded. “Somewhere out there, outside the safe walls of Orchards, I have a daughter I’ve never met. She’s probably doing fine, living with her adoptive family. But when I’m finished here, if I feel it’s really what God wants, I’ll do whatever I can to find her. I’m not sure I can have peace about that part of my life until I know she’s okay.”

  Then the group of downtrodden, desperate people, many of whom had only recently escaped the throes of desperation and found hope again, formed a chorus of voices and lifted Maggie and her needs straight to the hallways of heaven.

  31

  At 2:55 that afternoon, Kathy Garrett was working as diligently as possible on the stack of files that had gone unattended that day. She knew with everything in her that the decision to let Amanda go with Ben Stovall for the long weekend was a good one. And, true to her word, she prayed that he would be successful in meeting with his wife and introducing her for the first time to her daughter.

  Kathy had no doubt that Amanda had made a connection with Mr. Stovall at their lunch. The child had an uncanny ability to recognize a genuine person, and from everything Amanda had said, she was hopeful things would work out with the Stovalls.

  Amanda was good that way, not given to long bouts of sadness when she had to leave the Garrett family. It had happened often, and she understood.

  But this time—if things worked out—Amanda’s absence would be for more than a few days … and the idea of saying good-bye to the child caused Kathy’s mind to wander, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on the files in front of her.

  Kathy took a sip of lukewarm coffee and reached for the top folder on the stack. As she did, the phone rang.

  She sighed. It never stops, does it? “Hello?”

  “Ms. Garrett?”

  Kathy didn’t recognize the voice. “Yes, this is she.” Something in the man’s firm tone sent an unexplainable ripple of alarm through Kathy’s veins.

  “This is Judge Hutchison. I’m worried about one of your charges, Amanda Joy Brownell. Earlier today I heard an emergency session for a man by the name of John McFadden. He appeared with documentation proving he was Amanda’s biological father. Before he got much—”

  Kathy’s heart skipped a beat. Amanda’s biological father? What was the judge talking about? “Wait a minute … why didn’t you call me?”

  “It never got that far. I doubted the man from the beginning—something about his eyes or his look … I couldn’t put my finger on it. Anyway, I went into my chambers and ran a rap on him.” The judge hesitated. “DNA matches. He’s the girl’s father, all right. But he’s a bad man, Ms. Garrett. I’ve left you a few messages since then.”

  Kathy hadn’t had time to check her answering machine since lunch. Her mind raced in a dozen directions. “What’d you tell him?”

  “That’s just it. He left the courtroom before I could make my decision.”

  Kathy’s heart rate doubled. “You aren’t worried, are you?”

  “Actually, I a
m. He wanted custody of Amanda immediately. He knew she was a ward of the court and that she was between foster homes. He hadn’t found out about her until recently, but he wanted full custody.”

  A pit formed in Kathy’s stomach. What could this mean? What could the man possibly want with Amanda? “So, where is he now?”

  “He could be anywhere, I guess. But if he wants the child … ”

  “What do you mean?” Panic rose and Kathy’s hands began to tremble. Who was this John McFadden and why was he here in town now? Was he somehow connected with Ben Stovall? Kathy glanced at her watch. Three P.M. Amanda would be getting out of school in ten minutes.

  “It took a little while to run the check on him. My guess is he panicked and ran before I could call the police.”

  Kathy worked her fingers through her hair and tried to calm her pounding heart. “What’s his rap sheet say?” She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear the judge’s answer.

  “Officers are investigating him for drug trafficking, and he’s currently facing charges on attempted murder of a man in Cleveland. A Ben Stovall.”

  The room began to spin, and Kathy fought to maintain her balance. “Ben … Stovall?”

  Judge Hutchison hesitated. “Stovall pressed charges. The report says the beating nearly killed him.”

  “Oh no!” Kathy forced herself to concentrate. “This can’t be happening. Judge, listen, thanks for the information. I’ve got to go meet Amanda at the bus.”

  “If you see anything out of the ordinary, I want you to call the police immediately. I already notified them that McFadden’s in town. I hate to say it, Ms. Garrett, but my instincts tell me the guy could be dangerous.”

  Seconds after hanging up, Kathy called the motel where Ben Stovall was staying. When he answered, she didn’t mince words. “I don’t have much time here, Ben. There’s a man in town by the name of John McFadden. He came before the judge today and wanted immediate custody of Amanda. What do you know about him?”

  “He what?”

  “I’m serious. We don’t have much time. What do you know?”

  “The guy’s dangerous. He’s Amanda’s father, but there’s no good reason why he’d be here unless it’s somehow about me.”

  “You remember where I live?”

  “Sure, I’m a mile away.”

  “Amanda’s bus stop is a block up the street. Meet me there.” Kathy hung up and raced out of her office, praying desperately that she had nothing to worry about.

  And if she did, that she would reach the bus stop in time.

  32

  John McFadden hunkered down in the front seat of his car and watched as the weathered, yellow school bus screeched to a stop.

  Deciding which child was his would be the trickiest part. Of course, it would get trickier when police got wind the kid was missing. By then, though, he would have made contact with Stovall and presented his demands. If things went right, he could be done with the kid in an hour or so.

  But then, things hadn’t gone great so far.

  He fingered his gun and tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. Maybe this wasn’t the best plan, after all. If the police arrested him, he’d have to prove the girl was his daughter. They couldn’t arrest him for kidnapping his own kid, could they? A gnawing pain ate at the pit of his stomach, and he tried not to think about it.

  The bus pulled away, leaving two boys and a girl, who immediately began walking in different directions. John squinted through his sunglasses. So that’s her. He stared at the girl, surprised to feel a twinge of regret. What if he’d stayed with Maggie, worked things out? What would his life be like today if they’d moved in together and raised the kid? Whatever it would have been like, it probably wouldn’t involve him running from the police.

  You’re weak, McFadden! Forget the brat! This was no time to be thinking fatherly thoughts. The girl was moving quickly along the shaded, residential street, and he had to get her. He looked around—no signs of cars coming in any direction. It was now or never. He started the engine and moved the car slowly toward the girl. “Let’s get it done with … ”

  As his car pulled up alongside the kid, she glanced at him over her shoulder and picked up her pace. John was struck by how pretty she was. Just like Maggie had been that summer …

  He hit the automatic button and rolled down the passenger window. “Hi, Amanda.” She started, but kept walking, holding her books more tightly to her body. Great. She probably knew about not talking to strangers. He gave the car just enough gas to keep even with her. “I’m a friend of Ben Stovall’s. He asked me to meet you at the bus stop and drive you to the park.”

  Hurry, kid. It was only a matter of minutes before she reached that social worker’s house or a car drove up and thought something suspicious was happening. “Ben and Kathy Garrett are going to meet you there. At the park.”

  The girl stopped and turned to face him. Fear showed clearly in her eyes, and the feeling in his gut intensified. She bit her lip. “Kathy sent you?”

  Thatta girl. Come on, get in the car. “She wanted you to come with me.” He’d have to thank Mike and Alfie later for giving him the right details.

  Amanda moved closer to the car. “I’m not supposed to go with strangers.”

  That was it; he couldn’t wait another moment. He drove up a few feet ahead of her, slammed on the brakes, and pushed open the passenger door. Before she could get past him, he pointed the gun at her. “Don’t make me shoot you, Amanda.” His friendly tone was gone. “Get in the car. Now!”

  She looked ready to run, so John pulled out his final card. “You leave now, and I’ll kill Kathy Garrett. I know where she lives and when she gets home.” Amanda froze, her eyes wide. “I’ll do it, Amanda. Now get in the car.”

  The girl clenched her jaw and hesitated only a moment before walking briskly toward the car and climbing inside. She barely had the door shut when he jerked the vehicle away from the curb and sped out of the neighborhood.

  He had expected her to cry or scream or carry on. Instead she sat there, staring out the windshield. Then she broke the silence by humming something. It was the same tune over and over and over again.

  “Don’t you wanna know where I’m takin you, Amanda?” The girl kept her eyes straight ahead.

  “How do you know Mr. Stovall?”

  Her voice was a strange combination of jaded maturity and tender innocence. Again he wondered why he was doing this. To blackmail Stovall into dropping the charges against him? It didn’t even make sense anymore. Not when he was driving his own daughter at gunpoint back to his hotel. What if he really did want to have custody rights at some point? She was his kid, after all.

  Maybe so, he mocked himself, but no judge in his right mind would grant you a stinkin thing after this. Not even visitation.

  The girl’s question about Stovall hung in the air. Stovall. This was all his fault. “Well, Amanda, your old daddy knows a lot of things.”

  At that she stopped humming and spun around, eyes wide, mouth open. “You’re not my daddy.”

  He grinned at her. Sassy little thing … just like he’d been as a kid. “Well, actually, I am your daddy. No time like the present to get acquainted, eh?”

  She turned to stare out the windshield, and the dratted humming started up again.

  Fine.

  If she wasn’t interested in getting to know him, forget her. He ran his finger over the gun in his hand. She wasn’t his daughter. She was just a kid with DNA that matched his. And if she pulled anything funny or caused too much trouble, he’d waste her and hide her body. He wouldn’t have any trouble getting away with it. After all, she was just a lonely Social Services brat; the system wouldn’t even miss her.

  The humming was getting on his nerves. “Would you shut up, already! I hate that song.”

  “ ‘Jesus Loves Me’?” There was no fear, no anger in her soft voice. It was weird. Like she was in some kind of safe place, all by herself. She started humming again.

  “Lis
ten, kid, you’re with me now. Jesus ain’t exactly in the picture.”

  She just smiled. “Jesus loves me and whoever you are, He loves you, too.”

  Of all the—

  “You’re crazy, kid. I could shoot you right now, and no one would know the difference. And all you can do is sit there humming some stupid song about Jesus?”

  She turned and leveled her gaze at him. “That’s not all I’m doing.”

  Why wasn’t she scared? The uncanny calm in her eyes was enough to make his skin crawl. If he hadn’t regretted his decision to take her before, he sure did now. Of course, she was his daughter—so it made sense that she was tough even in the face of a gun. He turned onto a busier street. “Okay, smart mouth, what else are you doing besides staring out the window humming some stupid song about Jesus and getting on my nerves?”

  She bit her lip and studied him. “I’m praying for you.”

  Ben had a sick feeling in his stomach.

  He and Kathy arrived at Amanda’s bus stop at almost exactly the same moment, and there was no sign of Amanda. Ever since receiving the call from Kathy he’d been in a panic, but now he was hit with genuine terror.

  He pulled his car up alongside Kathy’s and motioned for her to roll her window down. “Where is she?”

  “The bus should have come by now.” Kathy’s face was ashen, and though Ben had only met her that week, he was sure she was feeling the same jolts of raw fear he was.

  “So she’s at your house, right? Wouldn’t that make sense?”

  Kathy nodded, and the stiff way she held her mouth made Ben think she couldn’t talk if she’d wanted to.