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

by Debra Ullrick

  “No. You’re just trying to make some sense out of something that doesn’t make any sense.”

  The hollowness returned to her voice and her breathing. “He was supposed to get time.” She squinted into the memories. “Manslaughter something, but he paid his way out of it.”

  Once again, Keith’s breathing snagged on the statement. “He walked away?”

  She nodded. “Just like I did. Only I never got over it.” Her hand pulled the robe’s belt out slowly and then let it drop. “I wonder if he ever did.”

  The story wound through Keith, pulling up memories as it went. “That’s why you drove Greg home.”

  “Huh?” Her head moved, and this time she sat up although she swayed with the movement.

  Now, looking at her, sitting there, there was so much he wanted to say but no real way to say it all. “He told me about the other night. How you took him home.”

  Her gaze dropped to the carpet. She tried to crush the feelings flooding through her face back down. “I didn’t want…” She put her hand to her nose to stop the tears.

  Soft gentleness for the courage she showed in the face of such a struggle drifted through him. He reached over and laid his hand on her back. “I know.”

  She looked back at him, and the tears overtook her again. “It’s just so unfair. I wish no other kid ever had to go through this. I wish I could make it so that every kid had a home and parents who cared. I hate it that any kid ever has to be afraid and alone. None of them deserve that.”

  Keith watched her. “And neither did you.”

  Her tongue drifted under her top lip as she fought the tears, but they were too strong. Her face crumpled into the pain again, and she gasped the breath in. Gently he reached over and pulled her back to his chest. She didn’t fight it, and for that he was glad. He wanted her to know he was here for her, that she could share her grief, and he would help her through it the best he could. Her cheek and hand rested on his chest, and he could feel her soft sobs.

  He wanted with everything in him to say something that would make it better, but what could he say? What could anyone say? It had all been said in one, thoughtless, reckless act by someone he would never know.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He tilted his head to be able to see her. “For what?”

  “For listening. I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  Gratefulness for her trust in him drifted through him. He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her hair. “Hey, I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”

  When Maggie woke up the next morning, her heart still hurt, but in a different way now. Now it was with the undeniable understanding that she wasn’t carrying this pain alone. And somehow, in some strange way, that helped. In the kitchen she found him making eggs and sausage with Peter perched on the cabinet.

  “Good morning,” she said, her happiness not a total façade although she did have a headache.

  “Morning.” Keith smiled at her and then grew serious. “How are you?”

  “Good.” She nodded. “I could use some aspirin though.”

  “Two aspirin coming up.” He reached into the cabinet above Peter. “’Scuse me, Mr. Ayer.”

  Peter giggled as Keith leaned him to the side and grabbed the bottle. He produced the aspirin and handed them to her.

  “There’s orange juice in the refrigerator and milk on the table.”

  She took the aspirins and grabbed a glass from the table to pour some milk. “How long have you been up?”

  “Since Peter knocked on my door at 6:15.” Keith reached over and tickled his fellow chef. “We got up and played Mario.”

  “Mario?” Maggie’s displeasure slid through her. “Before breakfast?”

  “Not our fault some people sleep all day. Huh, Peter?”

  “All day?” Maggie checked the clock. “It’s 7:30!”

  “Like I said.” Keith grinned at her wickedly. “If you’re not up at the crack of dawn, we’re wasting daylight as Ike would say.”

  Maggie knew he hadn’t meant them to sting, but the words did anyway. She pulled her robe around her a little tighter. “Well, I’m going to go get ready and get Izzy up. Unless you need a woman’s help to finish this.”

  “A woman?” Keith asked Peter. “We don’t need no stinkin’ woman. Do we?”

  Although she was sure Peter didn’t fully understand the comment, he grinned and shook his head anyway.

  “Fine,” she said, flouncing on the word, “but if you burn down the house, don’t come whining to me.”

  “How many times have we cooked eggs and never needed her help?” Keith asked Peter as Maggie walked to the hallway. “Now she thinks we’re going to burn the place down without her. Huh. Like we would do that.”

  Maggie laughed. He was crazy.

  It seemed Keith could spend hours with her, and no matter how many there had been, he always wanted just a few more. “Want to go eat?” he asked after church.

  “No. We’re probably pushing our luck. We’d better get home.”

  He nodded. He knew that as well as she did, but still, he wanted to find some way to stave off her leaving, some excuse for her to stay. “You want to go riding today?”

  Her gaze was softly apologetic. “We better put in some face time at the mansion or someone’s going to get suspicious.”

  Suspicious of what he didn’t really know or care. All he cared about was that she was leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  “I’ll get Pete,” Keith said, sliding out.

  “I can get it,” Maggie said quickly. She grabbed the suitcases and blankets. If she could just get away from him without letting him know she didn’t want to leave, somehow she could go on with life as if the last night had never happened.

  “You can get it?” He laughed at her. “Yeah, and I’m Houdini.” He slid Peter to the ground. “Down you go, Buddy. Go help Maggie with the pillows.”

  Maggie gave him one, but it dragged the ground. She had to check her heart rate as Keith came to her side carrying Peter’s car seat to get Isabella out. Amazingly he managed to snap the second car seat out with Isabella planted on his hip. They started up the walk, laden with kids and equipment.

  “You know, for two little kids, you guys sure don’t travel light.”

  “You think this is bad, you should see their rooms.” Maggie’s gaze slid back to him as she opened the kitchen door and they walked in. He laughed. Then his gaze traced past her, and the smile fell.

  “Oh, good morning,” he said, visibly straightening, and Maggie knew it was bad even before she turned around.

  Gathering her courage she turned slowly. It was worse than she ever could have imagined. She fought to find her own smile which had evaporated as thoroughly as his had. “Mr. Ayer. Mrs. Ayer. Good morning.”

  Mr. Ayer was the first to get anything out. “Would someone like to explain this?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Maggie started. “Patty Ann said that you all were not to be disturbed last night, so we…”

  “We?” he asked, looking at Keith.

  “I… Well…” She glanced back at Keith who stood staring at his father. “I mentioned to Keith that we weren’t really invited, and…”

  “That did not give you the right to take our children out of the house without our permission,” Mrs. Ayer said.

  Maggie deflated. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think it would be a problem if we just went to Keith’s. I told Inez.”

  “And thus we haven’t called out the National Guard,” Mr. Ayer said. “But we are still not pleased that you didn’t tell us where you were going. We do not appreciate our children being taken just anywhere. Who knows what could’ve happened to them?”

  “But we weren’t just anywhere. We were at Keith’s.” She looked back at him, but his face was rock-hard.

  “I should go,” he said. He smiled at her, kind of, handed Isabella to her, and then he dropped the other stuff to the floor and
shoved through the kitchen door with a bang. The last she saw of him was that familiar stride, stomping down the walk.

  To say she didn’t understand anything at all about the situation would’ve been an understatement. However, understanding wasn’t going to help her much anyway. She turned back to face the wrath of people she had no real way of placating. “I’m really sorry. We would’ve been back earlier, but we went to church…”

  That seemed to stop Mr. Ayer. His face dropped into incomprehension. “Church? You went to church?”

  “Yeah.” She felt Peter at her knee, and she reached down to shield him from any ugliness. Her heart was pounding in fear, and she was sure his was too. “Keith’s been taking me some times. Not all the time. Just a few times. I know… We should’ve told you that too. I’m sorry.”

  Mr. Ayer’s gaze surveyed her in a way she couldn’t quite read. “Keith went to church?”

  She wasn’t sure what the right answer to that question was, so she tried the honest one. “Yes.”

  “And you’ve taken the children?” Mrs. Ayer asked, clearly furious.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” That was it. She was fired. She was sure of it.

  “I do not believe this,” Mrs. Ayer said, standing. “Ms. Montgomery…”

  “Vivian.” Mr. Ayer’s hand on her wrist stopped her, and she looked down in consternation. With a gaze heavy with haze, he looked up at his wife. “May I speak with you?” He glanced at Maggie and the kids. “Privately.”

  Mrs. Ayer didn’t look at all happy, and it took her a long time to answer. “Fine.”

  They walked out. It would have been nice to be relieved, but Maggie couldn’t get all the way there. True, she hadn’t been fired outright, but it was less than clear that she wouldn’t be when they came back.

  Seconds turned to minutes. Then she heard the whimper. Peter. Carefully she spun right where she had been standing. She sat on her heel and hugged him to her. “Hey, baby. Shh. It’s okay.”

  “Where did Keith go?” Peter rubbed his eyes, and she knew it was getting time for lunch and a nap.

  “Keith had to go home, sweetheart.” At least she hoped that was where he had gone. She pulled Peter to her again, and as she kissed his hair, her gaze went through the window in the kitchen door to the outside. The pickup was long gone. He was upset, the bang of the door had told her that, and it was bad, the look on his face told her that. She wished she could somehow turn back time and start over. She shouldn’t have asked him to help her. She should’ve made the best of it at the mansion.

  “Ms. Montgomery,” Mr. Ayer said, striding in the room. Mrs. Ayer followed him, her arms folded at her chest.

  Maggie stood and waited for the death sentence to be pronounced.

  “We are not happy that you did not inform us you had taken the children, but…” He paused as his gaze went to his children. “We believe you had their best interests at heart.” His gaze leveled back on her. “In the future we expect you to inform us where the children will be at all times.”

  “O…kay.” She shouldn’t have had any courage left, but to her heart, this was important. “We have gone riding a couple times at the stables and to church. Will those be acceptable if I tell Patty Ann where we’re going?”

  Mr. Ayer looked like she had punched him. “So long as you tell Patty Ann.”

  Mrs. Ayer didn’t look at all pleased, but he turned and ushered her out before she could take a whack at Maggie. When they were gone, Maggie finally took a breath.

  “Come on, you two, we’d better get you ready for lunch.”

  She was gone, of that much Keith was certain. He should’ve been smart enough to nix the idea of them coming to his place when it first came up. Of course his father would never approve of them going to his place. That thought knifed through his heart. He loved those kids, and to be treated as if he wasn’t good enough to be around them hurt.

  He tried to find something to do at his place, but after an hour of frustration, he decided it would be best to go get some work done. He pulled on his faded blue jeans and grabbed a sleeveless shirt. If she was gone, what was the point of wanting to be here? He might as well move to the Woodlands now and get it over with. That thought brought him up short. He’d never called the realtor as Dallas had told him to.

  Frustration at being treated like a three-year-old no matter where he went crawled through him. It was like none of them cared what he thought. They knew what was best. He was supposed to follow along.

  At the stables, he noticed Tanner’s beat up pickup, but Ike’s was nowhere to be seen. That was a relief. At least he wouldn’t have to go more rounds with the newest manager. Keith stalked into the stables and met Tanner who was tossing hay to the horses.

  “Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Ayer, I didn’t know you were scheduled today.”

  “The house was getting to me.”

  “Tell me about it,” Tanner said. “My roommates were getting on my nerves.”

  “The silence was getting on mine.”

  At that moment a blonde-headed young lady stepped out of the office. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was anybody else here.”

  Keith stopped and looked at her, trying to fit her into a logical place. It wasn’t until Tanner walked over to her and laid his arm around her that Keith figured it out.

  “Mr. Ayer, this is my girlfriend Jamie. Jamie, this is Mr. Ayer.”

  Keith held out his hand. “Keith, please.”

  She smiled and shook his hand. “I’m sorry. I was just helping Tanner so we could go out tonight.”

  When Keith stepped back and surveyed her, it was clear that she was indeed in work clothes.

  “I didn’t think you would mind,” Tanner said, and the strain of apprehension was evident.

  Happiness for them drifted through him. They were lucky to be together without a million things standing in their way. “I don’t mind. Glad to have you aboard, Jamie.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ayer.” She caught his look. “Keith.”

  “The interview is Thursday,” Dallas said that evening as Keith’s real life crashed in around him. “10 a.m. You should email me your resume, so I can go over it.”

  “I know how to do a resume.” He sat at the table over his dinner that was already cold. Eating didn’t sound appealing. Living didn’t even sound appealing. Finally he stood and took his dish and the phone to the sink.

  “Still, you haven’t had much practice with things like this,” Dallas said. “I’d hate for you to mess up this chance. It’s such an incredible opportunity.”

  “I won’t mess it up, Dallas.”

  “I didn’t mean ‘mess it up’—like be an idiot, but you have to understand these companies are not your father. They aren’t going to overlook the details.”

  “What details about me do they need to overlook?” Frustration seeped through him.

  “You know what I mean, Keith. You don’t exactly have an extensive history outside your father’s influence.”

  That would’ve been a challenge. “I worked all while I was in college, and I was the manager for the racing operation here from the time I graduated. We’ve turned a profit on the racing every single year, and this year our revenues are on-pace to double.”

  Dallas sounded less than impressed. “That’s good for a hobby, but a real company…”

  “Listen, Dallas, I’ve got things to get done.”

  “But we haven’t even talked about the house. Did you call Jane at the realtor office? She needed to know what our offer would be.”

  “What is our offer going to be?”

  “Well, that depends if we go through the bank or if your dad will underwrite us.”

  Keith scratched his head. “We’d better go with the bank. I don’t really want to be tied to family if at all possible.”

  Her side went quiet. “It’s going to be hard for us to do it on our own. With neither of us having a real job yet…”

  “I have a real job.”

  “You know w
hat I mean. The bank needs something more solid than what we plan to do. Are you sure you can’t ask your dad? That would really help.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Have you talked to him about the jet?” Dallas asked. “I talked to Rachel, and she might catch a ride with us.”

  “Who’s Rachel?”

  “Oh, a friend from Advanced Legal Theory. She lives in Tennessee.”

  “But we’d be coming to Texas.”

  “Well, yeah, but Tennessee’s right on the way.”

  “Right…?” Keith was having trouble breathing. Dallas seemed to take it for granted that not only was whatever his, hers, but that apparently included whatever was his father’s as well. “We’re going to have to talk about this whole plane thing.”

  “Oh, Keith. I’m sorry. Heather just showed up. We’re going to dinner. Ristorante Reppucci.”

  He had no idea what Ristorante Reppucci was, but the fact that she pointed it out must mean it was expensive and meant to impress him. “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.”

  Oh, good. Something to look forward to. “See ya.”

  And they signed off. When Keith hung up, it was like dropping a fifty-pound pack. He sat down on the couch with a thump. He wiped his hand over his face, trying to block out the last 24-hours, but that wasn’t easy. Her on the couch, in his arms, reliving a nightmare he wished she had never been through. Then this morning in the mansion’s kitchen. Why was it, even when he helped, they found a way to throw him to the ground and then kick him in the gut?

  Dallas was right. He needed to call the realtor. He needed to get out of here before they permanently killed his spirit and everything he’d ever managed to put together underneath him. As he stood and headed for the back, he wondered if she was gone. Probably, and with everything in him, he tried to convince himself that was for the best.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The interview was all but a disaster. Keith knew it the minute he sat down in the chair, and it only went downhill from there. Lee Ferrell was the kind of guy who made you feel an inch high and about as worthless as a maggot-infested donkey. Oh, he talked a good game, but Keith knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Ferrell would never so much have said, “Hello” had Keith not had the connections he did. Never in his life had he been so glad to leave a place.