by Marta Perry
Grant had been the one left alone and uncomforted. A fresh spasm of pain gripped her, tinged with guilt. She’d been so judgmental of him when they’d first met.
Forgive me, Lord. You know how often I fall into that same sin. You must be tired of hearing me confess it.
She’d thought she knew who Grant was—wealthy, privileged, taking his easy life for granted and perfectly willing to use a month in Button Gap to get something he wanted.
She hadn’t been willing, or able, to look beneath the surface for the pain that lived there. She, of all people, should know how often a calm exterior could hide a raging grief. She’d been there most of her life, and her own shield had been hard-won.
She hadn’t bothered to look for what Grant was hiding, until life, in the form of the Bascom family, had forced both of them into sharing things they’d otherwise never have told each other. Now she knew him all the way through.
She understood his pain. And he wouldn’t let her do one thing to help him with it.
She squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out the kaleidoscope of children, costumes, Christmas tree, chattering adults.
Help him, Father. I can’t. I wanted to, but he wouldn’t let me. He’s going away, and I can’t do anything to make a difference.
Cold certainty gripped her. Grant would go away. He might be on his way already.
Please, Father. I’ve lost any chance I had.
She struggled to see her way through the days ahead. She’d do what she had to do—try to help the Bascoms, try to keep the clinic running. She’d keep putting one foot in front of the other, and one day, unlikely as it seemed right now, she’d be happy again.
Be with him, Lord. Hold him in Your hands.
That felt like a benediction, but with it came some small measure of peace. She’d done everything she could. The rest was up to the Father.
Aunt Elly slipped an arm around her waist. “Are you okay, child?”
She took a shaky breath. She hadn’t told Aunt Elly yet. She hadn’t told anyone, but she’d have to. They wouldn’t understand why Grant wasn’t here for the pageant.
“I’m all right. But Grant—” Her throat closed.
Aunt Elly squeezed her. “He’s fighting something, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “I wanted to help. I’m afraid I just made things worse. He’s probably packing to leave right now.”
“Have you turned it over to God?”
Had she? Maggie searched for any reservation, any self-interest clouding her prayers for Grant.
“Yes,” she said finally. “I have.”
“That’s all we can do, then.” She pressed her cheek against Maggie’s. “Have faith, Maggie. Maybe you planted the seed that will make a change in his life. We’re not always called to see the harvest, you know. Just to be faithful in planting the seed.”
Aunt Elly had certainly done that in her own life. Now it was up to Maggie to do the same.
“I know.” Her smile felt more genuine. “Well, let’s get those children dressed. What have you done with Joey?”
Aunt Elly pointed to the front pew. Joey, nestled in a pile of cushions, reclined like a sultan, his arm positioned carefully in its sling. He was a little pale, but he grinned when he saw her looking at him.
“You didn’t think we’d be able to keep him away, did you? He says he’s going to make sure the substitute king does it right.”
She actually felt like laughing, something she’d thought it would take years to accomplish. “He’ll probably scare the poor kid into making a mistake, more likely.”
“It’s going to be all right.” Aunt Elly sounded sure of herself. “It always is.”
“True enough.” No matter what mistakes anyone made, the pageant still always announced its eternal truth to hearts willing to hear it. “I guess—”
She stopped, realizing that a hush had fallen over the sanctuary. The door swung to with a clatter.
She turned, looking toward the back of the sanctuary to see who had come in. Looked, identified and felt her heart freeze in response.
Mrs. Hadley, the county social worker, stood just inside the door. Gus Foster, looking harassed and reluctant but official in his deputy’s uniform, stood beside her.
Mrs. Hadley didn’t look harassed or reluctant. She looked triumphant.
The children—
From the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Evie Moore drop an angel gown over Tacey’s head and sweep Robby behind her with a deft movement.
Brave, but futile. Maggie’s mind scrambled for ways to get the children out, even as she recognized the impossibility of it all. Joey, immobilized in his nest of cushions, couldn’t be hidden, and Mrs. Hadley’s eagle eye had probably already identified the other two.
Help. She couldn’t seem to manage anything else in the way of a prayer, and Mrs. Hadley was advancing down the center aisle like a Sherman tank, flattening anything and anyone that dared to be in its path. Help!
“Margaret Davis.” The woman rumbled to a stop dead center. “I thought it would be you.”
“Mrs. Hadley.” It was a sign of recognition between enemies, as if flags dipped before a battle. “Have you come for the pageant?”
The woman swelled. “I’ve come for the Bascom children, as you well know. You’ve been hiding them from me.”
Not from social services, Maggie noted, even as her mind ran this way and that, searching for a way out. For Mrs. Hadley, this was personal. Was the woman still trying to assert her authority over the rebellious eleven-year-old Maggie had once been?
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Maggie felt Pastor Jim move up next to her. She sensed the rest of Button Gap arranging itself behind her. It was a good sensation.
Unfortunately, that support wouldn’t be enough. Mrs. Hadley had brought the law with her. Gus didn’t want to be here—that was clear from his hangdog expression. He had better things to do with his Christmas Eve. But he’d do his duty, like it or not.
Mrs. Hadley’s eyes were small and mean behind her wire-rimmed glasses. She hadn’t changed, it seemed to Maggie, in the past two decades. She’d gotten a little grayer, a little meaner, a little fatter.
Maggie had once looked at her bulk and seen a mountain of a woman, terrifying in her power. The power was still there, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be terrified any longer.
Mrs. Hadley sent a commanding glance toward Gus. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.
“We’re here to pick up the Bascom kids.” There was an apology in the look he gave Maggie. “Seems Mrs. Hadley’s office has some information that Nella Bascom ran off and left those kids.”
“Ran off?” Maggie raised her eyebrows, trying for a composure she didn’t feel. “Just because Nella went on a trip doesn’t mean she deserted her children.”
“Certainly not.” Pastor Jim waded in. “Nella left her children in Maggie’s care when she had to go away for a while. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Gus looked relieved at the pastor’s intervention, undoubtedly seeing it as a way out of a situation he disliked. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Nothing wrong?” Mrs. Hadley gave him a contemptuous look. “You’d take anything these people said as gospel and use it as an excuse not to do your duty.”
Gus stiffened. “I don’t need nobody telling me how to do my duty. If the woman deserted her kids, I’ll help you take them in. But seems like we’ve got a dispute about that.”
“Nella asked me to take care of her children while she was away. I said yes.” Maggie hoped she sounded as if that would be an end to it.
“If that’s the case, where is she?” Mrs. Hadley fired the question like a dart. “If you’re taking care of her children for her, you must know where she is.”
“She had to go back to West Virginia.” She chose her words carefully. “She has family there.”
“That’s right,” Aunt Elly chipped in. “We all know Nel
la’s family’s from West Virginia.”
Mrs. Hadley dipped into her bag and pulled out a cell phone. She held it out to Maggie with a malicious gleam in her eyes. “Then you know how to reach her. Call her, now. If she tells me what you’re saying is true, I’ll leave it alone. For the moment.”
There was the challenge. Mrs. Hadley would only make it if she felt sure Maggie couldn’t do just that.
And she couldn’t. Oh, Nella. Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me where you are?
The cell phone waved in the air between them. Mrs. Hadley’s air of triumph grew. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips, as if she tasted victory.
“Take it.” Aunt Elly’s voice was soft in her ear. “Call Grant. We need him.”
Just the sound of his name was an arrow in her heart. We don’t, she wanted to say. We don’t need him. He walked away from us. He’s leaving.
Is that really the reason? The question dropped quietly into her mind. Is that the reason, or is it because you don’t want to admit you need him?
Her instant response told her the truth. Grant didn’t need her. She didn’t want to need him. She couldn’t rely on him.
But she had to.
Grant slammed the back of the SUV on all the belongings he’d brought with him to Button Gap. He was ready to go. There was nothing to keep him here any longer.
He glanced toward the church. It must be time for the pageant to start. Maybe it was already under way. All of Button Gap would be gathered there. He was the only holdout.
Well, he wasn’t part of Button Gap. He never had been.
His cell phone rang, a shrill, imperative summons. For an instant he was tempted to ignore it. He couldn’t.
He snapped the phone open. “Hardesty.”
“Mrs. Hadley is here.” Maggie’s voice was a whisper—a frightened whisper. “Come to the church. Please. We need you.” A slight hesitation. “I need you.”
“Maggie?”
The connection was broken.
He stared at the phone, then turned to stare at the church. Mrs. Hadley was there. Maggie needed him.
He could slide behind the wheel and drive away. He didn’t have to be involved in this. The roof was falling in on Maggie’s scheme, and all he had to do was drive away.
He couldn’t, any more than he’d been able to ignore the call. He couldn’t shut Button Gap out of his life, like it or not. Not yet.
He jogged across the street toward the church. Maggie had called him. Maggie had asked for his help.
That was the strangest thing. Maggie—determined, fiercely independent Maggie—wanted his help. She’d actually put away her pride and asked for help.
Could he give it? He paused at the foot of the church steps, gripping the railing.
He’d told himself all along that calling social services would be best for those children. He’d let himself be manipulated into the conspiracy to hide them, knowing all along that he shouldn’t.
Now it had been taken out of his hands—out of all their hands. Mrs. Hadley was there. Presumably she knew about the Bascom kids. What should he do, even if he could?
Isn’t this for the best? With a sense of shock, he realized he was speaking to the God he’d been trying so hard to ignore. Isn’t turning those kids over the right thing? They’re not my responsibility.
Why not? The voice seemed to whisper in his heart. Why aren’t they your responsibility?
Because when I looked at Joey, hurt and helpless, all I could see was my brother. I can’t take responsibility for them, don’t You see that? What do You want from me?
All of you. The answer rang through him. All of you. Not just your skill as a doctor. All of you.
He bent over, his breath coming as if he’d been running. The cold air seared his lungs. He couldn’t. He couldn’t give in, couldn’t trust. He’d trusted God with Jason, and look what had happened.
Jason is safe in God’s hands. That was what Maggie’s message had been, and the words resounded, refusing to leave him alone.
If that was true, how could he go on using his brother as a reason not to take responsibility for another child?
He straightened slowly, looking at the church door, feeling its pull. Quickly, without letting himself think of possible consequences, he ran up the steps, pulled the door open and ran inside.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant stepped inside the sanctuary and paused, assessing the situation. The pews of the small church were filled with people. All of Button Gap had come to spend Christmas Eve watching the children’s pageant.
Instead, they were seeing a pageant of a different sort.
Maggie stood at the front of the sanctuary, the deep red of her sweater making the pallor of her face more pronounced. Pastor Jim, next to her, had distress written across his countenance.
The woman opposite them looked ready to take on all comers, hands planted on her hips, brows drawn down, eyes glinting behind her glasses. Next to her, the deputy sheriff he’d met before stood representing the law, no matter how reluctantly. The battle lines were drawn.
For a moment it seemed to Grant an epic battle between good and evil. He shook off that fancy and started down the aisle at a deliberate pace. No one here was evil. They were just people trying to do what they thought was right. Maybe that was even more frightening.
Take it slow and easy, he told himself, aware that most of the people in the sanctuary were watching him now, as if a new fighter had entered the arena. Knowing Maggie’s penchant for charging into situations, this one had probably already escalated too fast, too far.
The best thing he could do was calm the rhetoric and get some sort of delaying movement. Maggie had turned this woman into a monster in her mind, but surely any social worker worth her salt couldn’t really want to take the children away on Christmas Eve.
Maggie, confronting the woman she considered her enemy, looked as strong and determined as a crusader ready to die for her cause. Then she glanced toward him, and he saw the pleading in her eyes.
He faltered, almost losing his place in the open pain of that look. Maggie needed him.
Mrs. Hadley, apparently alerted to his presence by the shifting of attention in her audience, swung ponderously to face him, too.
“Grant.” Maggie’s voice was strained, held calm, he was sure, by sheer effort. “This is Mrs. Hadley.”
Then, apparently realizing she should have done it the other way around, she blinked. “This is Dr. Grant Hardesty, the physician who’s working at the clinic this month.”
He nodded, sizing the woman up. Solid, entrenched, sure of herself—she reminded him of a parade of bureaucrats he’d dealt with in his professional life. He didn’t detect any of the fierce passion for the underdog he’d seen in other children’s advocates.
All of that passion came from Maggie. Mrs. Hadley stood secure in her authority and her rules and regulations. She wouldn’t back down easily.
“I don’t know why you wanted to call him.” Mrs. Hadley dismissed him with a glance. “The only thing that matters is that you don’t know how to reach those children’s mother. That gives me every right to put them in foster care.” She swung on the deputy. “Do your duty, for once in your life.”
“Just a moment.” Grant’s words, quietly spoken, had enough steel to bring a quick appraising look from the deputy. “I’d like to know what’s going on here.”
“What interest is it of yours?” Mrs. Hadley snapped.
The question, rude as it was, went right to the heart of the situation. If he admitted his involvement, that would spell even more trouble for the clinic, probably dooming his chance at the partnership. To his astonishment, that didn’t mean as much as it had just a day ago.
All of you. The words echoed in his mind. I want all of you.
He’d been so sure that his future was his own to determine. Admitting that it wasn’t brought an amazing sense of freedom, and with that feeling came the knowledge of how to play this situation.
He swung on Maggie. “Well, Ms. Davis, what’s going on? Perhaps you’ll be good enough to explain.”
Pain flashed in her eyes at his curt tone. Then she seemed to recognize the incongruity of his question. Her eyes widened. Her lips twitched, as if she held back an unguarded remark. Then she turned away, her hair swinging down to hide her face.
“I don’t know what Mrs. Hadley is doing here.” She managed to produce a sulky tone that was a perfect counterpoint to his arrogant doctor routine.
He should have known she’d instantly grasp what he wanted. After all, wasn’t that how they’d worked together through every crisis of the past month?
“Try to explain,” he said condescendingly.
He sent a covert glance toward the social worker. Her faint smile suggested that she liked hearing him put Maggie down. He had to control an anger that was surely irrational, since that was just the reaction he wanted.
“She seems to think Nella Bascom has deserted her children. We’ve tried to explain that we’re just taking care of them while she’s away, but Mrs. Hadley won’t listen.”
He paused for a beat, then turned toward the woman, raising his eyebrows. “I think that’s perfectly clear. What seems to be the problem?”
Mrs. Hadley’s face tightened until she looked like an angry bulldog. “It’s a nest of lies, that’s what’s wrong. Those children belong under my supervision.”
“I can’t imagine why you feel that’s necessary. They’ve been under the care of a physician and a nurse, not to mention the minister and half the town.” He paused, letting that sink in. “Why would we need you?”
There was an approving stir in the congregation. Someone said a resounding Amen.
Mrs. Hadley’s face flushed. “No one here knows where Nella Bascom is. You can’t deny that. I gave Maggie a chance to call her, and she couldn’t do it.”
“Naturally not.” Please, let this be true. “How can anyone reach her when Nella is en route to Button Gap for Christmas?”
“You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugged. “It’s immaterial to me what you believe.”
An approving flicker in Gus’s face alerted him. The deputy, he’d guess, might weigh in on their side if he could give him a reason.
