Pulse hammering in her throat, Sophie made her way toward the man who held her heart. He looked lonely and forlorn sitting there, but she was ecstatic to see him.
Without a word, she slid into the pew next to him. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, so she waited, praying silently for wisdom and guidance but mostly for him to find whatever it was he needed.
After a while, without looking her way, he slid his hand to hers and squeezed. His fingers trembled, and Sophie ached for him.
“I never thought I’d ever come inside a church again,” he said quietly, as if to himself.
“Why?” she murmured, pulse thudding in her ears. Help me, Lord, to say the right things.
Kade drew in a deep breath and exhaled on a gusty sigh. “Some bad things happened. I lost confidence in God. Maybe I was even angry at Him, which is pretty stupid on my part.”
“He’s a big God. He can handle it.”
He turned his head toward her then, those beloved dark eyes full of sorrow. “I couldn’t.”
“What happened?” There. She’d asked. He could tell or not, but at least she’d made the effort.
“I worked undercover narcotics. Special task forces.”
“You told me.”
“Yeah.” He pulled her hand onto his knee and massaged her fingers as if the contact eased him. “I’m not sure I can tell you the rest.”
“Nothing you say will change the way I feel about you.”
He gazed at her with a question in his eyes but didn’t ask. She hoped he could read the love she beamed his way.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Positive. Please tell me what hurt you so badly, Kade. Tell me why you turned away from the Lord.”
He tilted his head to stare up at the ceiling and sighed again. “My aunt said you’d feel that way. She also said I needed to find God again, but I wouldn’t find him roamin’ around like a hoot owl.”
Sophie chuckled softly. She couldn’t help herself. The feisty old lady had followed through with her threat to knock some sense into her nephew’s head. “I love that spunky woman.”
For the first time, Kade’s face lightened. “Me, too.” He recaptured her fingers and said, “I’ve been sitting here since the second hymn following her advice, asking God to help me.”
“And?”
“I thought He’d let me down. Bad things happened to kids and He didn’t stop them. I think I get it now. He hated what happened as much as I did.”
Kids being harmed? The concept prickled the hair on Sophie’s scalp. “I thought you were a drug agent.”
“I was, but the job went deeper than anyone expected. The drug cartel had branched out.” He closed his eyes, swallowed and said, “Into human trafficking.”
Sophie’s heart stopped beating for a nanosecond. Horror gripped her. “Oh, no. Not children.”
“Yes.” The grip on her fingers tightened to the unbearable stage. “I reported it to my superiors. They told me to take it deeper, find the source.” His lips curled. “Being a good team player I did as I was told, and all the while kids were being used in unspeakable ways.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Don’t, please. I understand enough.” Enough to know what had driven him to the edge. A man of compassion who harbored a guardian’s soul, Kade would break at not protecting a child.
“I knew. And I did nothing but gather evidence.” He scoffed, self-loathing thick around him.
She shuddered to imagine the horrors he’d likely witnessed. How did a person ever cleanse such images from his mind? “Did you make any arrests?”
“Oh, yeah, we got our bad guys. They’re awaiting trial in a cushy prison, but the arrests can’t erase what happened to those kids. They’ll carry those scars for the rest of their lives.”
The implication sickened Sophie. Her stomach roiled. If Kade struggled at remembering, how much greater was the burden on a child?
“I hate myself for that, Sophie,” he went on. “I should have done something to save them. They were helpless kids. I should have stopped it.”
“Could you have? Think before you answer, Kade. I don’t know a lot about drug cartels but enough to know they are powerful. Could you have stood against all of them? Wouldn’t you have ended up dead? And then the criminals would never have been stopped. You might not have saved some, but you ended the cycle and saved others in the future.”
“You sound like my shrink.” When she tilted her head in question, he said wryly, “Told you I’m a nutcase.”
“Nothing wrong with seeing a doctor if he’s helping you.”
“He might if I talked to him more.”
“I know another physician you can talk to. No charge.” She smiled softly. “The Great Physician.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, mouth in a soft line of agreement. “That’s what I’ve been doing tonight.”
“And?” she urged softly.
“I don’t want to go back to Chicago.”
Adrenaline shot through Sophie’s bloodstream. She sat up straighter, almost afraid to believe the implication. “You don’t?”
“I left my soul in Chicago. I found it again in Redemption. I also found something else.”
“What’s that?”
He shifted on the padded pew and tapped his chest. “My heart.”
Sophie thought her heart might jump right out to meet his. “I love you, Kade.”
He closed his eyes and was quiet for a moment while Sophie’s blood raced and her nerve endings jittered. Even if he didn’t love her in return, she could go on with her life content and full. Kade had found himself again. He was on the road to recovery and peace.
When he opened his eyes, Kade said, “You blow me away, Sophie. I’m hard and cynical. And I’ve done and seen things I won’t ever tell you about. I don’t understand why or how you can love me. I don’t deserve you or your amazing love. But you—” he shook his head as if bewildered “—you deserve everything.”
“I have everything I want and need,” she said. “Everything but you.”
He tugged her closer, caressing her face with his fingers and his gaze. She felt his love long before he said the words.
“Then if you really want me, I’m yours. I love you, Sophie B. I’d be a fool not to.” His lips curved. “And we know what Ida June has to say about fools.”
Sophie returned his smile, the swell of joy a powerful thing.
The scent of candle smoke still lingered in the church and the pastor had long since dimmed the lights. She could hear him moving around somewhere in the back, a wise shepherd who knew when to make himself scarce. He would wait, she knew, as long as necessary. He was, like his Savior, a good shepherd.
In the front of the church, the spotlighted crèche stood out against a dark backdrop. She felt a rightness in declaring her love here in the church with the greatest love of all symbolized in a carved wooden figure asleep in a manger.
Heart full to overflowing, she stood, drawing Kade up with her. “It’s Christmas Eve. We should go and let the pastor get home to his family.”
“Yeah, I have a stocking to fill myself.” A full-blown smile spread across Kade’s face as he took her hand. “Or maybe two.”
Chapter Sixteen
Christmas morning dawned cold and clear. The snow, as Ida June predicted, had been nothing but a wish and a flurry.
Kade could have cared less. He’d slept fitfully but not because of his troubled soul. Rather, he’d been excited about the new beginning and he’d lain awake dreaming of a future with Sophie.
At six he rose, jittery for the day to begin. Sheba padded in, stretched her long, golden body and shook loose the remains of a solid eight hours. Kade let her out and back in, a fast trip thanks to the chill in the air.
Ida June would roll her eyes at his sentiment, but for Sophie’s and Davey’s pleasure, Kade tuned the radio to nonstop Christmas music. With a cup of his favorite caffeinated pain in hand, he plugged in the Christmas tree and sli
pped a few extra gifts beneath.
He loved that tree. Mostly because he loved the woman who’d decorated it. He’d groused about the smelly little pine when Sophie had dragged him off to a tree farm, but he’d secretly been pleased. The tree had never been the problem. He had. He just hadn’t believed he could deserve a Christmas with all the joy and love and trimmings.
Weird how messed up a man could get.
At seven, Davey, rubbing his eyes, stumbled into the living room in his blue-and-red superhero pajamas. His shaggy hair stuck up in a dozen places. He looked around, dazed and delighted by the pile of gifts and the bulging stockings.
“Place looks different, huh, buddy?” Kade leaned in for a hug.
Davey nodded, pointing toward the Christmas tree.
“Get dressed first. Sophie will be here soon.” He checked his watch. “Very soon.”
As Davey dashed away with Sheba close behind, the doorbell rang. Every nerve ending came to life. Who needed caffeine with Sophie around?
He yanked the door open. She’d come. She was here. Last night in the church had really happened.
She walked into his arms.
He enfolded her, basking in the feel and scent and essence of his woman.
She loved him.
“It wasn’t a dream.” He nuzzled her ear.
“If it was,” she said, a smile in her voice, “we had the same one.”
Content, he sighed against her coconut-scented hair. “You still love me this morning?”
“More.”
He thrilled at her warm lips against his jaw.
“Merry Christmas to me.” He pushed her back a little to kiss her properly. “And to you.”
A gagging sound came from behind them.
“Please,” Ida June grumbled, “I haven’t even had my coffee.”
Kade whirled around and grabbed his aunt, smacking her cheek in a noisy kiss. The white bun atop her head wiggled. “Love you, too, Auntie.”
She pinked up. “Well, look who’s been in the eggnog.”
“We have something to tell you,” he said, ready to shout the good news from a frozen rooftop.
Blue eyes snapping back and forth between Kade and Sophie, his aunt declared, “‘Love, and a cough, cannot be hid.’” She smacked her lips in satisfaction. “I’ve been saving that one.”
Grinning, holding hands, Kade and Sophie joined Davey, Sheba and Ida June in the living room and Christmas Day began.
* * *
With love in her eyes and enough joy in her heart to burst into a Hallelujah Chorus—which she did a couple of times—Sophie watched Kade hand out Christmas gifts. At some point, he’d done some serious shopping. Even though she and her father had bought Davey several gifts, Kade and Ida June had bought more. Within fifteen minutes, all four of them had a pile of gifts stacked in front of them.
“Are we going to open them or admire them?” Kade asked.
That was the only cue Davey needed. With little-boy greed, he ripped into the bright paper, flinging ribbons and wrappings all over the living room. Sheba sat at his side, amber eyes adoring her boy.
Kade abandoned his Santa post to sit by Sophie. “You’re all the present I want.”
“Me, too,” she said, handing him one anyway while wishing she’d purchased something more personal than a pair of leather gloves. “I bought this before…well, before last night.”
He opened it, declared them perfect like her and gave her his gift. The silver paper and royal-blue ribbon were stunning. “I love the wrapping paper.”
“You’ll laugh at my gift.”
“No, I won’t.” She opened the package and…laughed. “Leather gloves! I love them.”
“Great minds think alike,” Ida June declared, wagging a similar pair. “I like mine, too.”
Kade motioned toward the stack of mail she’d brought with her. “What’s all this?”
“Christmas cards, I guess. They were in my mailbox this morning, so I grabbed them before coming over. Some are for Davey. I thought he’d enjoy seeing his name on them.”
“Mail doesn’t run on Christmas.” He gave the stack a curious look.
“Neighbors, probably. Just dropped them in the box. We do that sometimes.” She took one up and opened it. A check fell out.
Kade retrieved the slip of paper from the floor. “Look at this. A donation to help with Davey’s surgery.”
“What a lovely gesture,” she said, heart welling.
“Open the rest.”
“You don’t think—” Sophie shook her head. “Surely not.”
But she opened another. And then another. Some were from friends, others from companies or churches or civic groups. Card after card came with a check or cash and a note wishing Davey a Merry Christmas and a vocal New Year.
By the time she opened the last card, tears streaked down her cheeks. Davey, alarmed, rushed to her side and patted her face. His eyes begged her not to cry.
“She’s okay, Davey,” Kade said, clearing his throat more than once. “Women cry when they’re happy.”
Ida June shoved a tissue into her hand. “Quit blubbering before I start.”
Because Ida June had been sniffing and her eyes watering for the past five minutes, Sophie laughed through her tears. She nearly had her composure back when the doorbell rang.
“Probably Dad,” she said. Ida June had invited him for Christmas dinner. “I’ll let him in.”
The woman at the door was vaguely familiar. “We heard about the little boy who needs an operation. This being Christmas and all, my husband and I wanted to do something.” She handed Sophie a check and walked away.
Stunned, all Sophie could say was, “Thank you. Merry Christmas.”
The car had no more than pulled out of the drive when another, and then another and another arrived, each one bringing a donation for “the little boy who can’t talk.”
Each time there was a lull in visitors—some familiar, others strangers who’d read about the need in the Redemption Register—Kade reported on the total.
As the donations continued, Sophie’s tears of joy turned to astonished jubilation.
The stream of visitors slowed at noon. While all three males played with Davey’s race-car track, Sophie helped Ida June prepare the meal. Once in a while Sophie pinched herself to see if today was really happening.
A shout of laughter had her looking into the living room. Sheba, sitting on her bottom next to Davey, moved her head in circles to the motion of a car racing around the track.
The doorbell rang again. Drying her hands on a dish towel, she went to answer, still laughing at the dog and the trio of males she loved best.
Sophie pulled open the door. “Biff!”
Before her next breath, Kade appeared at her side. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to, but he did glower. Sophie knew how upset he’d been when Biff had discontinued her cookie project. Upset for her sake.
She reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I figured you’d be here when you weren’t at home.” Her principal looked as stiff and uncomfortable as she felt. Though bundled against the cold in a long, wool chesterfield, his head was bare, his ears red.
Considering the words they’d had the last day of school, she couldn’t imagine what he was doing here.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, for lack of anything to say. She refused to hold a grudge at any time, especially Christmas. Biff Gruber was her principal. She would get along with him.
“And to you.” Biff thrust an envelope into her hands. “Some of us took up a collection for the Stephens boy. We wanted to help.”
Sophie required concerted effort not to drop her jaw and gape. Astonished but touched as well, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Gruber. Really. This is very thoughtful of all of you.”
“Yes, well—” he gave a short nod “—Merry Christmas.” And he walked away, back stiff and ears as red as Rudolph’s nose.
Sophie closed the door and leaned he
r back against the solid wood. “This is almost too much to comprehend.”
Kade moved into her space, his dark eyes alight. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “You asked for a miracle. I think you got it.”
Awed and touched, she opened the check and started to cry.
As she wept tears of joy, Kade pulled her into his arms and murmured his love over and over again.
A small body shouldered in between the adults. They went to their knees to take him into the circle of love as a golden dog and a grinning aunt looked on.
The miracles had just begun. Not one but many. Davey would get his voice. Kade had found his hope again.
And all of them had found each other.
All because of a lost and lonely boy…
A Christmas child.
A Season for Grace
Linda Goodnight
Prologue
The worst was happening again. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Collin Grace was only ten years old but he’d seen it all and then some. One thing he’d seen too much of was social workers. He hated them. The sweet-talking women with their briefcases and straight skirts and fancy fingernails. They always meant trouble.
Arms stiff, he stood in front of the school counselor’s desk and stared at the office wall. His insides shook so hard he thought he might puke. But he wouldn’t ask to be excused. No way he’d let them know how scared he was. Wouldn’t do no good anyhow.
Betrayal, painful as a stick in the eye, settled low in his belly. He had thought Mr. James liked him, but the counselor had called the social worker.
Didn’t matter. Collin wasn’t going to cry. Not like his brother Drew. Stupid kid was fighting and kicking and screaming like he could stop what was happening.
“Now, Drew.” The social worker tried to soothe the wild brother. Tried to brush his too-long, dark hair out of his furious blue eyes. Drew snarled like a wounded wolf. “Settle down. Everything will be all right.”
That was a lie. And all three of the brothers knew it. Nothing was ever all right. They’d leave this school and go into foster care again. New people to live with, new school, new town, all of them strange and unfriendly. They’d be cleaned up and fattened up, but after a few months Mama would get them back. Then they’d be living under bridges or with some drugged-out old guy who liked to party with Mama. Then she’d disappear. Collin would take charge. Things would be better for a while. The whole mess would start all over again.
A Child's Christmas Boxed Set: Sugarplum HomecomingThe Christmas ChildA Season For Grace Page 37
