A Nest of Sparrows

by Deborah Raney

  She had told him, more than once. But it was a balm to hear it again. “They were good kids, weren’t they?”

  “They are good kids, Wade. They’re angels. And I’m not just saying that. I see a lot of children in similar situations, and yours were more resilient than most. And I know you had so much to do with that.”

  “I wish I could have just one more day to spend with them.”

  “I know,” she said. “I understand. But what would you do differently than you did every day you had them? You spent quality time with them, you played games, you taught them important things they needed to know…”

  Wade frowned. “I wish I’d taken them to church more, after…after their mom died. I should have seen to that. Starr would be furious with me if she knew what a slacker I was in that department.”

  “Maybe. But they knew what you believed, Wade.” She gave Shadow a pat and sat down across from Wade on the top step. “Even in the short times I was here with you and the kids, I saw the way you prayed with them and answered their questions about God. You lived out your faith in the everyday things. They saw that. Don’t think they didn’t.” A spark came to her eyes. “Remember that time you caught Beau cheating at Spoons?”

  Wade nodded, grinning at the memory.

  “I was so impressed with the way you handled that. You didn’t just mete out a punishment, but you explained why it was wrong. And you made sure he knew it was what he did, not who he was, that made you angry.”

  Wade looked at her from the corner of his eye. “We had some fun times here, didn’t we?”

  She nodded. “Remember that time we were playing Spoons, and Dani kept telling everybody she was collecting sevens and aces, so––”

  “So Beau started hording sevens and aces,” he finished for her, laughing. “Oh, man, I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized there was no way he could win since she had the very cards he needed.”

  They laughed together at the memory.

  “Yeah,” he said, “but my most memorable game is still the one where you finally had to sing. Oh, did the kids ever get a kick out of that.”

  Her face turned the same peachy shade it had that day. She hid behind the visor of her hand. “You would have to bring that up!” But she was laughing.

  She sat beside him and listened as he talked about the kids, remembering each of their unique traits, the special relationship he’d had with each one.

  “Thank you, Dee,” he said when he felt he’d burdened her enough.

  “It was my privilege, Wade. To be a tiny part of your life with the kids. I…I would have given anything to have a relationship with my stepfather like Lacey and Dani had with you.”

  She’d told him about her parents’ divorce, but she’d never mentioned that her mother remarried. “You grew up with a stepdad?”

  “If you could call him that. My parents divorced when I was nine. Just about Beau’s age.”

  Wade tried to picture Dee as a little girl. He could almost see her––a gangly, honey-haired child with big green eyes. “I bet that was tough.”

  A shadow swept her face and she looked away. “The man my mother married…abused me. In a horrible way. I finally got the courage to tell her before things got…” She rubbed her temples and let out a harsh breath.

  Wade caught his breath. His stomach clenched. “I’m sorry, Dee. I didn’t know.”

  A sad smile touched her lips. “Of course not. How could you?”

  “I suppose you see that type of thing a lot in your work. That must be really hard. To be reminded.”

  She nodded. “Yes. But…well, it’s one of the reasons I went into social work. I think maybe God is using what happened to me so maybe I can help prevent it from happening in someone else’s life.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened, Dee. But I’m so glad you’re allowing God to turn it into something good. Because that means you were there for my kids.” He corrected himself. “For Starr’s kids.”

  “They were your kids, Wade. In every way that mattered. You made a big difference in their lives.”

  Oh, Father. Let that be true. Don’t let this all have been for nothing. “That means a lot. It really does. I don’t know how any of us would have gotten through this if it weren’t for you, Dee.”

  “I was just doing my job. Anyone else would have done the same.”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. You…you just clicked. With the kids––and with…well, with all of us.”

  She dipped her head. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  An awkward silence grew between them. Finally, Dee stood and stretched. “Well, I probably ought to go. I…I really shouldn’t have come out here in the first place, but––”

  “Why did you come?”

  She drew back, her brows knit. “Why did I come?”

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Is this part of the package? Some sort of complimentary consolation visit all your clients get when the case is over?” He tried to keep his tone light, but instead, it came out sounding sarcastic.

  She crossed her arms, and her tone held a defensive edge. “No, Wade. I…I shouldn’t even be here. You know that. We’ve talked about the boundaries I have to set where clients are concerned.”

  “But here you are. What does that mean?” He knew he was backing her in a corner, but he needed to know.

  “I…I’m not sure––” She shook her head slowly. “I…knew you were hurting. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” she said again. She turned and started toward the car.

  “Dee.” He struggled to his feet and stepped off the porch.

  She whirled to face him, her eyes bright with tears.

  He blew out a breath. “Listen. I’ve already had three people walk out of my life today. If you’re going to do the same, the least you can do is tell me what you’re feeling.” He put his head in his hands and combed his fingers through his hair. Then he looked up at her and held his palms outward, tacitly pleading forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Dee. That wasn’t fair.”

  She glared at him. Her voice took on a hard edge. “You want to know what I’m feeling? All right. I’ll tell you what I’m feeling, Wade. I’m feeling like I just lost everything I love most in this world, and I don’t even have the privilege of mourning it, because I wasn’t supposed to love it in the first place.”

  He drew back and studied her, amazed––and deeply moved––by her confession.

  “Wade, in case you think I fall in love with all my clients the way I fell in love with you and the kids, you’re wrong. You guys…you were something special.” The edge that had been in her voice softened. “I can’t explain it, and it’s probably best if I don’t try.”

  He stared past her, trying to wrap his mind around her words. The way I fell in love with you… How did she mean that? Had she truly fallen in love with him? Or was he just part of a package with the kids? A package that had now been irreparably broken?

  She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering visibly, in spite of the October sun shining down on them. “When I drive out of this driveway, it’s forever, Wade.”

  The finality in her voice caused his stomach to churn. He cocked his head. “Forever?”

  “Well…it might as well be forever.”

  “Why do you say that? I’m not your client anymore.” He picked up a twig that had blown onto the porch and absently broke it in two. “I…I’d like to see you again, Dee. I’d like you to be a part of my life. To continue being part of my life.”

  A look of chagrin crossed her face. “You don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “Wade, the code of ethics for my profession doesn’t allow me to have a relationship with you. At all. At least not anytime in the near future.”

  “Then I’ll wait. I’m a patient man.”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean a long time. Two years.”

  He felt like she’d slapped him. But he reached out and touched her ar
m. “I’ll wait, Dee.”

  “No.” She took a step back. “Two years is a long time, Wade. You’ll find someone else.”

  “Or you will.”

  “I…I don’t think so. Wade… We shouldn’t even be talking about this. I’ve already said more than I should.” A look of panic flashed in her eyes, and she turned and started toward the car.

  “Dee! Wait…”

  “I have to go, Wade.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I have to go…”

  She ran to the car as though someone were chasing her.

  Without thinking, he ran after her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into his arms. For one brief moment, she melted against him, let him hold her.

  Then, with a little cry of dismay, she pushed away and ran around the car to the driver’s side.

  He let her go. Turning his back to her, he heard the car door slam, the engine rev, the crunch of gravel as she drove away.

  And he was alone again.

  Chapter 44

  Dee guided her car down the road, nearly blinded by tears. She’d gone to Wade’s meaning to comfort him. Instead, she’d been immature and unprofessional. And selfish. She’d made it all about her and her feelings, her loss.

  How could she have been so insensitive? Clay was right. She should have asked to have someone else assigned to the Parnell kids the minute she realized how deep her feelings for Wade had grown. But it was too late for that now. She’d cut him to ribbons when he was already deeply wounded.

  She wanted to turn the car around and go back and throw herself into his arms. Code of ethics be hanged. But that was irrational. She loved her job and deeply respected the profession she was a part of. It would be foolish to throw away everything she’d worked so hard for. Besides, it wasn’t like she was independently wealthy. She couldn’t exactly support herself working at McDonald’s while she figured out what to do about her feelings for Wade.

  She grabbed a tissue from the box in the console and dabbed at her cheeks. What had she gotten herself into? Her mind churned. Even without the barriers her profession placed between them, how could she be sure she and Wade really had anything lasting between them? Yes, she loved what she’d seen in him over the months she’d spent time with him and the kids. She admired his commitment and compassion for children who were not his own. His faith and work ethic, his integrity and sense of humor were all exactly what she longed for in a man. And things she’d seen so little of in the few men she’d dated or even been acquainted with.

  Never mind the fact that Wade’s winsome smile made her heart beat a little faster, or that the spark in his eyes made butterflies dance inside her. She loved his honest emotions and his playful spirit. Did they really know enough about each other to feel the way they did?

  But how could she ignore the feelings she had for him? The way she’d felt when he put his arms around her? She took one hand off the steering wheel and rubbed her shoulder where his hand had rested. Was the physical attraction she felt for Wade wrong? She’d never felt for any man what she’d felt in his arms today.

  And yet, the fact that, until today, he’d never touched her beyond a chaste brush of the hand was one of the things that drew her to him so strongly. She had always been timid at a man’s touch––even when it was innocent. Too many times, she’d bolted and run like a skittish colt when a man wanted to kiss her goodnight or hold her hand. She’d never felt comfortable explaining the reason for her fears. Until today.

  The words had come so easily with Wade. And his reaction had been one of utter compassion and gentleness. It seemed important that she’d grown to love a man––and he her––completely outside the physical realm. It seemed so right. So exactly the way God would desire. Especially for her.

  She longed to tell Wade her thoughts and feelings, longed to go to him and apologize for her selfishness, and to have another chance to be a true comfort to him. But they were both too vulnerable right now. She knew that.

  God was so hard to understand sometimes. Why would he have brought Wade into her life, when the very work to which God had called her forbade their being together? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

  The mailbox was stuffed with catalogs and bills. Wade tucked everything inside his jacket and zipped it to his chin. The air had taken on a nip overnight. He breathed in the crisp smoke-scented air. But it didn’t fill him with the hopeful anticipation the advent of autumn usually brought.

  Today was Tuesday––the second Tuesday he hadn’t gotten his “fix” of the kids. Instead, he’d climbed into his pickup at six-thirty this morning and gone to work, like it was any other day.

  He slammed the rounded door of the mailbox and turned to look across the patchwork of fields stretching beyond the Smoky Hills to the north, as far as the eye could see. As he had every evening of the week, he cast a whispered prayer toward Minneapolis. “Father, be with them. Keep them safe. Help them make the adjustment. Let them know your presence every single day. Please don’t ever let them doubt my love for them. Or yours. And, oh, Father…if it be your will, please allow me a chance to see them again. Please soften Darrin Parnell’s heart. Give him patience with the kids. Hold back his anger, Lord. Let Carma be a good mother to the kids.” The tentacles of fear that always latched on to him when he reached this part of the prayer grabbed tight again. If he ever found that those precious children were in danger, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. He shook away images that made his stomach knot.

  “Help me bear this grief in a way that honors you, Father. And be with Dee. I don’t know what you had in mind with her. I don’t know why you allowed her into my life, only to take her away. You know how much I care for her… If she has no place in your will for my life, Lord, please take away these longings…”

  And as it did every evening, his prayer brought tears. But they were cleansing tears, and he was grateful for their release. He whispered an amen, then turned and trudged back to the house.

  Shadow came up from the river and trotted beside him. Wade filled her bowls with food and water before he went into the house. The kitchen was dark. He switched on the lights and waited in vain for their glow to chase off the chill of loneliness. He unzipped his jacket and tossed the mail on the table.

  He pulled out a chair and sat, automatically culling the junk mail from the bills. An ivory colored envelope caught his eye. His name and address were scrolled across the front in a decidedly feminine hand. There was no return address, but the letter bore a Coyote postmark. Probably another “sympathy” card. He had received many notes and letters of encouragement from friends and acquaintances from the church and community. He hadn’t realized how many people were aware of what had happened in his life. It comforted him to know people understood his loss and were praying for him. In spite of his grief, he was learning to rely on God more deeply than ever before.

  He ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter written in the same flowing script. It was long. Two pages. He turned the last page over in his hand. His pulse quickened at the signature.

  He hadn’t heard from Dee since that day after the hearing. Her exit that day had been painful, leaving him feeling as if there were serious unfinished business between them. Perhaps she was feeling the same. He began to read.

  Dear Wade,

  I want to apologize for the way I behaved last week. I was selfish and insensitive and completely thoughtless. Please forgive me. I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I truly only meant to offer a listening ear and the comfort of a friend. But somewhere I got terribly off track, and I know I offered neither. I am so sorry.

  I have thought of you so often. I’m praying for you, Wade. I can’t even imagine how much you must be missing the children. But I know God loves them even more than you do and that he has his eye on them every minute of every day. When I was reading my Bible last night, I came across the verse in Matthew that talks about how not one sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing and caring about it. I
thought of your three little “sparrows” and how precious they are to God. I found deep comfort in that. I hope you do too.

  Wade, I fear anything else I say will only make matters worse than I’ve already made them, but I do want you to know the time we spent together while I was the children’s caseworker was precious to me––both for having had the privilege of knowing such sweet, unspoiled children, and for having known a man like you. I’m certain I overstepped some professional boundaries. Perhaps this letter does the same. (And I admit that, because of the code of ethics I must follow, I’m a little hesitant to even put my thoughts in writing.) If the result of either is hurtful to you, I am sorry.

  But selfishly, I have no regrets. I am honored to have known you and Beau and Lacey and Dani, and to have been even a small part of your lives these past few months. I admire your strength of character and your integrity, and I wish for you only God’s very best in the days ahead. You and the kids will always be in my prayers.

  Dee

  Wade put the letter down and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it made things better or if it only made him miss her and the kids more.

  If he’d thought life was lonely after the kids had been put in foster care, now it was beyond any kind of isolation he could imagine. Of course, he’d brought some of it on himself. As much as he knew he needed to go to church, whenever Sunday rolled around he simply couldn’t face it. He didn’t feel ready to handle all the well-meant condolences and sorrowful stares.

  Pete and Margie had issued a standing invitation to dinner at their house, but even that seemed too difficult, and he’d yet to take them up on it.

  There were days he was glad Darrin Parnell had been so quick to say no to letting the kids have Shadow. The dog had become his trusted confidant.