Coming Home: (Contemporary Christian Romance Boxed Set): Three Stories of Love, Faith, Struggle & Hope

by Debra Ullrick

  “Amen.” The deep voice and the soft one blended together, sending her heart into fits.

  “Good night, sweet prince.” She pulled her hand back, bent forward, and kissed Peter’s forehead. “You get some sleep. Let Jesus take care of everything else.”

  On the other side of the bed, Keith stood. He reached one hand down to the little shoulder. “’Night, slugger.”

  Maggie pushed to her feet and turned for the door. Three steps and she felt his presence right behind her. It was comforting and anxiety-producing at the same time. At the door Keith opened it for her, and they stepped into the hallway. Once there, he slid the door into the jamb and turned to her.

  “I think you’ve got a fan,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, well. Lotta good that’s going to do me.” If the day had convinced her of anything, it was that she could never be perfect enough for this place. Some day, some way, she would do something just wrong enough to be fired, and it wouldn’t even have to be as major as yogurt on the ceiling. Her heart ripped in half at the thought of leaving these kids, of breaking their hearts by walking away. It would kill her as surely as it would kill them. “I gotta go. ‘Night.”

  “Hey.” His hand coming around her wrist stopped her from escaping into her room. “What’s wrong?”

  Sniffing the misery down, she turned to him, but her gaze was on the carpet. “Let’s face it. I’m not cut out for this place. It’s obvious. I’m not used to schedules and dressing fancy and soccer lessons and piano lessons. Mrs. Malowinski’s was nothing like this. I don’t know how to do any of this right.”

  Beaten down by the need to appear perfect in a too-perfect world, she looked ready to admit defeat. Keith knew exactly where she was coming from. He’d been there. “Well, it looks to me like you’re doing something right. Those kids love you, Maggie, and you’ve only been here… what? A week.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed sarcastically. “And I’ll only be here what? Four more days.” She wrapped her arms over her middle, and one hand drifted up to wipe the tears from under her glasses. “Face it. I’m not good enough to be here. I couldn’t be if I tried.”

  “Okay. Now you stop right there.” He picked his hand up and held up his index finger. “First of all, you have done more for those two kids than anyone has since they’ve been on the planet. Second of all, you are perfect just the way you are.”

  She actually laughed at him that time. “Yeah, right. Look at me. I’ve worn the same shirt for three days now because I don’t have the guts to ask if I can use the washer nor do I even know where it is. I got reamed out the other day because we were only two minutes early to dinner, and with today’s stunt, well, let’s just say it’s only a matter of time.”

  Keith shook his head at the list. “Wait a minute. Back up. They didn’t show you the house? You don’t know where the washer is?”

  Embarrassment tramped across her face. It took her more than a few seconds, but finally she sighed. “They warned me not to go snooping around, so I didn’t want to go looking on my own.”

  “Oh, well, that one’s easy enough.” He reached over and took hold of her wrist. “Come with me.” With her trailing him like a bike with the kickstand down, they took the kitchen stairs to the bottom level. In the kitchen he turned to the right instead of to the left and opened a small door. He flipped the light on, and there in gleaming white was the washer and dryer. “Ta-da! Now was that really so hard?”

  She fought the smile as long as she could, but finally it broke through.

  “Good. Problem number one, solved.” He turned to her. “Now, my next question is, how you got to the end of your clothing supply in less than a week.”

  Leaning against the open door and making circles on the floor with her toe that he realized was sticking out the front of her white sock, she kept her gaze on the floor. “Because I brought everything I owned. It was all in that suitcase. The one we carried from the barn.”

  Incredulousness dropped over him. “Everything you owned was in there?” How that could possibly be, he didn’t know because that suitcase weighed next to nothing.

  “I was headed back to Mrs. Malowinski’s when the dean called me about this job, and Mrs. Ayer didn’t really give me the chance to get anything new once I got here. Not that I could have, I had two dollars to my name the day I showed up… still do.”

  Processing all that she was telling him was getting harder by the minute. “Okay. Wait a minute. Time out. One thing at a time. Who is Mrs. Malowinski?”

  Maggie fought the humiliation rising in her chest. Sure, there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but still… People always reacted so strangely when they knew.

  The forcefulness of his voice was gone, and he softened. “Maggie? Hey. It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  She glanced up at him, and his face held nothing but compassion and concern. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and willed the wall to hold her up. “She’s my foster mom, or she was until I turned 18.”

  “Foster mom?” He shook his head a half-shake. “I don’t understand.”

  Willing the tears to stay in her heart, Maggie detached herself from the story as she had learned to do so long before. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was eight.” She set her jaw and lifted her chin to show him she was over that tragedy. “There weren’t any relatives to take me, and they hadn’t named any guardians in the will, so… I went into the foster care system.”

  “Oh, Maggie. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged slightly. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was okay. At least it was once I got to Mrs. Malowinski’s house. She was really great. She had six of us… all foster kids. It was chaos, but it was okay because she loved us.”

  The worry in his eyes drilled through her when she glanced up at him. Her gaze fell again. She fought to pull it back up to his. She didn’t want him to think she was damaged goods or anything.

  “How long were you at Mrs. ….?” he asked softly.

  “Malowinski. Four years. Fourteen to eighteen. Then the state kicked me out, and I was on my own for good.”

  “The state kicked you out?”

  She shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s the rules. When you get to be eighteen, good luck. See ya.” She waved her hand as if making a joke. “I got lucky though. I got a scholarship at Kingsville, so it worked out.”

  She stifled the yawn that attacked her. Slowly she pulled her hand up to her hair and slid it sideways through it to the back. “I know what it’s like to grow up thinking nobody cares.” Her smile was sad. “That’s why I wanted this to work out so bad.”

  He regarded her for a long minute. “Yeah. I can see that.”

  This time she really did yawn. “Man, I’m done for. I’d better get up there. We’ve got dance and art lessons in the morning.”

  “Oh, joy,” he said, trying to laugh. “More lessons.”

  “Tell me about it. I’ve never seen two kids with such tight schedules. They make Donald Trump look like a bum.” With a push to get her going, she started up the stairs as he snapped off the light behind them. He was climbing behind her, of that, she was sure. She could feel him there. As she climbed, she knew she had to say what was in her heart, and here, in the dark, she had just enough distance from it to be able to say the word. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks? For what?” He sounded surprised.

  “For what. Yeah right. Well, let’s see for not letting me face plant that first day in the foyer, for carrying my suitcase for a mile so my arms wouldn’t drop off, for taking us horseback riding—although I’m still trying to recover from that one.” She pulled herself up the top stair. “Oh, yeah, and for putting your neck on the line for me today. You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

  At her door, she stopped and turned toward him.

  His smile was more sad and concerned than she had ever seen it. “I’m glad I did.”

  For one single moment all seemed right with the world. Then tension and awkwardness descended
between them.

  “Well, I’d better get some shut-eye,” he said, pointing past her to the darkened hallway beyond.

  “Yeah. You and me both.” Her hand rested on the knob as she leaned her head on the door and gazed up at him. “Thanks, Keith.”

  “No problem.”

  It was nearly five in the morning before Keith got to sleep. He had to do something, speak up, tell his father about her, but how? It was a question that would be with him the rest of the weekend.

  Chapter Six

  Horseback riding with the kids on Friday was great because this time Keith convinced Maggie to trot, which was more fun watching than it should’ve been. Friday night he made it a point to be upstairs in time for prayers. On Saturday morning, he hit the breakfast table with one goal in mind.

  “I’m going to run into town today to pick up some stuff,” he said as if he hadn’t thought every word through a million times since they’d walked out of the laundry room.

  “Oh?” she asked. Sitting at the table, she picked small pieces off of a blueberry muffin.

  He hunched over his bowl to avoid looking at her so that maybe she would believe he really didn’t care one way or the other. “Yeah. I was thinking. If y’all want to come with me, you can.”

  The picking stopped, and she stared at him. “Us? Why would we go into town?”

  “Well, I needed to hit Wal-Mart to get supplies for my place when I get banished there again on Tuesday.” He shrugged to take the edge off that statement. “I thought you might want to go get some things for you. You know, clothes and stuff.”

  She narrowed her eyes and then raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, like I have the money to do that.”

  How he ever thought he could do this and be nonchalant about it, he didn’t know. He swallowed the nervousness along with the Cheerios. “Well, I could loan you some until you get paid. I’m sure you’ll be getting something by next Friday.”

  “Yeah, like my pink slip.”

  He started to protest, but when he looked at her, she smiled softly. It was obvious she was teasing as well as considering his offer, so he ducked his head over the bowl and let her alone with her thoughts.

  “Maybe I could get a few things,” she said but quickly added. “Not much. Just a couple.”

  The smile from his heart couldn’t be stopped. “Cool.” He finished off the last of the Cheerios, stood, and grabbed his hat from the table. “I’ll be up to pick you guys up about 12:30.”

  “That’ll work.” She was gazing up at him, which had a way of short circuiting his brain. “If you’re sure you don’t mind…”

  “Hey, I don’t ask if I mind.”

  The more she thought about it, the more Maggie knew he was too good to be true. Stable, kind, generous. How could you get all of those in one package? There were only a couple of problems. One, she had no way to know if he felt the same way. Two, maybe he was nice to everybody, and she was reading way too much into his kindness toward her. Three, and this was the biggest of all, by Tuesday morning he could be a memory in the rearview mirror. This job was an eggshell crack away from disintegrating around her.

  She felt it every minute that he wasn’t around, and so it was comforting to have the promise of a whole afternoon in his company. Car seats standing sentinel on either side of her on the top step, she stood with Isabella in her arms, and Peter peering out from behind her leg. For the 78th time she checked her watch. He should’ve been here by now. If Patty Ann caught them out here with no better explanation than she had prepared, Tuesday might come a lot sooner than Tuesday.

  Relief poured through her when the shiny red Dodge Ram pickup pulled around the corner and up to the front. He hopped out and yanked the back door open. “Sorry I’m late. I had trouble with a water pump.”

  Maggie picked up a car seat and started to him. He took it from her, and she handed him the other as well. “Nothing serious I hope.”

  “Na. The motor went out. Just took a little gerrymandering.” At the pickup, he worked to put Isabella’s seat in first, then went around to put in Peter’s. “So, you ready for a trip into big ol’ Pine Hill?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been outside these gates in what feels like forever.”

  Keith smiled as they each strapped in a child. “Well, then, by all means we don’t want you to feel like a prisoner.”

  As she climbed into the pickup, Maggie had the feeling that she’d never felt so free in her entire life.

  All the way into Pine Hill which was only a 20 minute drive, the conversation sailed smoothly. She was so easy to be with, so easy to talk to, so spirited but with a maturity and control Keith found fascinating. “So, you were from where originally?”

  “Midland,” she said, and she pulled one jean-clad leg up to her other. “My dad worked for the city. My mom taught. Then when I was eight, everything changed.”

  “You moved to Del Rio.”

  She shook her head on his glance over. “No, I went to Lubbock first. They had an opening. It was less than wonderful.” Her soft laugh ripped his heart out. “I was there for almost a year. Then I moved to Carlton for awhile. That one wasn’t much better, but I really liked the school there.” The history stopped for a moment. “Mrs. Baker. Man, I haven’t thought of her in a long time. She really started me into the reading thing. I could just lose myself and everything else in the pages. It was something sane to do when everything was going crazy around me.”

  Her voice slid into the memories, and Keith glanced at her again, sensing the things she wasn’t saying. Finally she ducked her head and continued.

  “That one last two years.” She let out a breath. “Hard to believe I even made it through that one.” There was no doubt the pain she was pushing down with each word. “There were two stops after that… San Antonio with… hmm, what was their name again? Abrigail… Abingail… Something like that. They were okay, but we were in a really bad neighborhood.” She glanced back into the back and chose not to continue with that line of thought.

  “Then there was Mineral Wells for six months, and then I landed at Mrs. Malowinski’s.”

  “In Del Rio.”

  “Yeah. She was great. Real inspiration. Unbelievable lady.” Maggie let out a long breath as her gaze drifted out the side window. “I think she saved my life to be honest with you.”

  Sadness, fear, and hard-fought acceptance laced every memory. After a moment, he felt her gaze slide to his, and he glanced at her. She smiled. “It’s been a long ride.”

  “Well, maybe this is where all of that was leading.” Why he said it, he had no idea, but he wanted with everything in him for it to be the truth.

  “I hope so.” She looked out the side window again. “I really hope so.”

  Keith had never met anyone as unassuming and unpretentious as Maggie. Up and down the aisles of Wal-Mart they walked. They’d already gotten two pairs of shoes—a pair of tennis shoes and a pair of white dress shoes—both of which were on yellow tag, please-take-them-we’re-begging-you sale. Once they made it to the clothes, things didn’t improve. He’d pick up a shirt or pants or a skirt for her to consider. She liked it until she saw the price tag, and then she’d shake her head and put it back. At the extreme-clearance sale rack she found a shirt for $5 that wasn’t much better than what she had on.

  It wasn’t that he cared what she wore, but he knew there were people back at the mansion who cared very much. If he had any chance of getting them to consent to let her stay, he had to find a way to convince her to get something nicer without totally cutting her off at the knees over her wardrobe.

  “Maggie!” he said in frustrated disbelief when she put a white scrunch skirt back on the rack. “Why did you put that back? $12 is not that much.”

  “Twelve dollars is twelve dollars. That could buy five bags of cereal if you get the right ones.” She walked around the rack as he pushed the cart with Isabella in the front and Peter sitting amidst Keith’s purchases in the back.

  His brilliant
idea wasn’t going to work if she kept this up. “Tell you what. I’ll pick something, and you have to at least try it on.”

  “But…”

  “I didn’t say you have to buy it. Just try it on.”

  She scrunched her face as he started sorting through the rack next to him.

  “What size?” he asked.

  “Keith.”

  “I said, ‘What size?’”

  She exhaled hard and crossed her arms in front of her. “Eight.”

  “This is nice, and it’s an eight.” He pulled a red tank top from the rack. From the other side of him, he fingered a blue blazer and sorted until he found the right size. Holding them up, he wished he’d paid more attention on his shopping trips with Dallas. “These are good.” He put those two in the cart. “How about orange?”

  That idea was rejected nearly the second after he’d made it, more by him than by her. On the next rack he stopped. Smoke colored with white flowers and vines, the dress looked just like something Dallas would wear; however, this one would never fit in Dallas’ price range. “And this.” He flipped it into the cart.

  Maggie raised her eyebrows skeptically.

  At the next rack, he examined the choices. “Nice. Yuck. Here.” He flipped another skirt into the cart. Pushing forward, he was halfway to the next rack when his cell phone beeped. He pulled it out, hit on. “This is Keith.”

  “Keith! Man, dude, where have you been? I was about to call out the FBI.”

  “Hey, Greg.” He pushed the cart a little farther on and started sliding the hangers in each direction. His brain put the conversation with Greg on autopilot. “What’s up, man?”

  “I’ve called your place and left like five messages. I called the stables and left a message there too. Where have you been?”

  “You know if you want to catch me, my cell’s the best way.” He held up a dark turquoise and white striped top. Maggie didn’t look convinced, but he put in the cart anyway. “Besides I’ve been staying up at the mansion this last week.” He held up a white skirt and added it to the others. “So, what’s up?”