In Search of Love

by Christine Lynxwiler

  Tim awakened and after he ate a hearty hospital supper and drank some juice, Dr. Johannsen released him.

  Just as they were leaving the cubicle, a nurse called to Cade. “Mr. McFadden, you have a phone call on line one.” Since Cade had already called George and Marta, he and Annalisa exchanged a puzzled look.

  “I’ll take Tim down to the exit. We’ll wait for you there,” she offered.

  He nodded and headed toward the nurse’s station.

  “Annalisa! Look at that thing. Do you know how to do it?” Tim’s boyish excitement seemed little hampered by the afternoon’s adventure. He hurried toward the funnel-shaped contraption.

  “Actually, I do.” She fumbled in her purse and found a handful of coins. Pointing toward the center slot, she said, “Put one in there.”

  Tim’s eyes grew large in wonder as the coin spiraled its way slowly around and around to the small hole in the bottom.

  Just as he was dropping in the last coin, Annalisa spotted Cade coming down the hallway. The disturbed look on his face had her stepping toward him.

  “Cade? Who was it?”

  “It was Janet Melton from the Pulaski County Department of Health and Human Services. She wants to see me tomor­row.”

  “Why?”

  Cade hung back and glanced at where Tim was fascinated with the spiral machine. He lowered his voice. “She wants to discuss the possible need of removing Tim from my care.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Annalisa heard Tim coming down the hallway long before she saw him.

  He burst through the swinging kitchen door. “Annalisa!” He threw his arms around her waist as if he hadn’t seen her just last night.

  “Tim, you look like you slept well.” She squeezed the boy tightly.

  Aunt Gertie entered the room at a calmer pace. “He slept like a log. Not sure I’d have agreed to share a room with him last night, though, if y’all had told me how he snored.”

  Tim jerked away from Annalisa and stared at the elderly woman with wide eyes. Annalisa stifled a giggle when Aunt Gertie gave the boy a broad wink.

  His endearing grin quickly reappeared. “You’re teasing me.”

  “So I am.”

  “Where’s Mr. Cade?”

  Tim’s question was a natural one, but Annalisa hadn’t thought it through. She glanced at Aunt Gertie and silently pleaded with her to offer a plausible explanation.

  The older woman placed her hand on Tim’s head. “He had to run to Little Rock this morning, but he left me in charge of you. He said you’d help me in the garden.”

  George and Marta walked in the back door as Gertie was speaking, followed by Matthew and Juan.

  “I didn’t know Cade was going to Little Rock today,” George said. Annalisa nodded. Cade had told her to explain the situation to the Winemillers, but she’d wait until after breakfast when the children weren’t around.

  The subject quickly lost appeal as both George and Marta greeted Tim warmly. After they were satisfied he was okay, he ran to hug Matthew, who returned the embrace with a relieved smile. Tim started to throw his arms around Juan, but the teen stepped back and held up his hand instead. He grinned at Tim’s enthusiastic high-five, though.

  After George thanked God for the food, everyone but Annalisa and Aunt Gertie tore into the biscuits and eggs with abandon. Annalisa looked at the clock and caught Aunt Gertie’s understanding gaze. It was time for Cade’s appoint­ment right now.

  Dear God, whatever it takes. . .please don’t let Cade lose Tim. She hesitated. Unless it’s your will for Tim’s life, Lord. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  “—and anyway, I didn’t think a dumb old pillow would hurt you. And neither did Matthew.” Juan’s words were bel­ligerent but his tone was apologetic. “You did start it, Tim.”

  “It wasn’t cause y’all hit me with pillows, anyway, Juan. It was an asthma attack. I used to have them at home.” Tim’s words faded away as he obviously thought of unhappy times.

  “You’re right about one thing, Juan.” George’s stern voice was tempered with love. “You boys shouldn’t have been play­ing with Marta’s new pillows. She went to a lot of trouble making those.”

  She hand-stuffed them with feathers herself. George’s words from an hour or so before Tim’s first attack resounded in Annalisa’s head.

  “Were you pillow-fighting when you began having trouble breathing, Tim?” Annalisa asked the question casually. His mouth full of eggs, he nodded.

  George started talking about the horses. Annalisa laid her fork down and quietly excused herself from the table.

  ***

  “Good morning, Mr. McFadden. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  Waiting? She’d had him cooling his heels for an hour, after he’d risen with the chickens in order to be here at her appointed time.

  He forced a polite nod. He couldn’t afford to allow his irri­tation to show.

  “As you know I asked you here because of the phone call I received from the Randolph County Emergency Room last night. When we approved your contract for the boys’ ranch, I had serious doubts and now. . .”

  Cade’s cell phone rang. He froze. A quick glance at the caller ID told him it was the ranch. They wouldn’t call right now unless it was an emergency.

  “Can you excuse me for one minute? I have to take this.” Cade offered a conciliatory smile and backed out of the room, clutching his phone. As soon as he was in the hallway, he answered, “Hello?”

  “Cade, it’s me. Guess what Tim and the boys were doing right before the asthma attack?”

  “Annalisa, I’m in the middle of the meeting.”

  “I know! This is important.”

  “They were grooming the horses and feeding them hay. We’ve been over this.”

  “Yeah, well, Tim left out one little detail. What they were doing right before the attack was fighting with Marta’s new pillows. Her feather-stuffed pillows.”

  “Feather pillows?” Cade knew he sounded boggled, but this information was astonishing. Here was the element Dr. Johannsen had been looking for.

  “And that’s not all. Marta had just done her decorating the day before Tim’s first attack at the ranch.”

  “Perfect, Annalisa. I’ll call you later.”

  Cade walked back into the meeting with a much better attitude. “I have some news concerning Tim’s asthma attack yesterday.”

  As he explained about the pillow fight, the stern-faced woman nodded. “I had asthma myself when I was young. I used to have an attack every time I spent the night with Aunt Betty. We finally figured out that while our pillows were foam, hers were stuffed with feathers. It made all the differ­ence.” With a stiff nod, she stood and extended her hand. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time. You may as well know I felt I had no choice but to take Tim out of your care. I still think that ranch of yours is a risky proposition, but it looks like this time you’re off the hook.”

  Cade shook her hand and left the office quickly. When he stepped out into the bright sunshine, he decided to walk to Holt’s office.

  At the first street corner, there was a display of brochures for the upcoming State Fair. He picked up a flyer and thought of how excited the boys would be if he could take them. How wonderful to be going home to all three boys, including Tim. He’d been so afraid he was going to lose the child. . .first at the hospital, then this morning in that meeting. Was that how Annalisa had been feeling for seven years?

  He yanked up his cell phone and quickly dialed. “Ronnie? Remember that case I mentioned to you?”

  “You mean the one that was seven years old?”

  “Yes, that would be it.”

  Cade held his breath. If Ronnie had found nothing, he would be under no obligation to Annalisa.

  “You’re always trying to stump me, Boss. But you’ll have to try again.”

  “You found her?”

  “Easy as pie. That little girl’s still in the system.”

  “She’s never been adop
ted?” Cade stopped walking and sank down on a corner bench.

  “Not yet, but almost. Seems the father had been on again, off again in the girl’s life, but he died a few months ago. The same family has had her from the time the state took her. They’re about to make the adoption final.”

  Cade felt like his chest had been encased in concrete, mak­ing it impossible for him to breathe. Amy hadn’t been adopted. Annalisa could probably claim her. But at what price? “You have the foster parents’ info?”

  “Sure thing. Hang on.” As he heard the rustling papers through the phone line, Cade grimaced at the memory of Ronnie’s cluttered desk. In spite of his employee’s disorgani­zation, the PI certainly knew his business. “Here it is.”

  Cade plucked a pen from his shirt pocket and turned the fair brochure over. He quickly jotted down the name and address in the margin.

  He said good-bye, closed the little phone, and slipped it in his pocket. Lost in thought, he hardly noticed the gold-domed capitol building until he was almost past it. If Holt hadn’t been expecting him, he’d have turned around and walked back to his vehicle.

  When he reached his brother’s office, Holt was on the phone. The senator waved his oldest brother into a chair and grinned. “Good to see you,” he mouthed.

  Cade nodded, but as Holt discussed Senate business with a concerned constituent, Cade’s mind drifted back to Annalisa and Amy. There was no easy answer.

  “I said, you look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  Cade realized with a start that Holt had ended his phone conversation and was addressing him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Holt grinned.

  “Yes, I probably do.” Cade grimaced. “But that’s not what’s wrong.”

  “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “I don’t know.” He realized that wasn’t true. “Yes, I think she does. But there’s more to it than that.”

  He gave Holt a condensed version of Annalisa’s past and his current dilemma.

  All traces of amusement vanished from Holt’s face. “That’s tough, Bro.”

  “Yeah.” Cade brushed his hand across his face.

  “Don’t you think Annalisa would see that Amy is better off with the family she’s known when it came down to it?”

  “You’ve never seen such determination.”

  “Hmm. . . That’s saying a lot coming from a McFadden.”

  “She makes us look like a bunch of quitters, Holt.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  His brother’s question lingered in the air. He didn’t know the answer. “Pray.”

  “So will I.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you going to go see the foster parents?”

  “Yes. I’m going to go this afternoon.”

  “Let me buy you lunch first?”

  “You sure you’ve got time for a poor old cowboy like me?”

  Holt glared at his brother. “Get real.”

  In spite of his bad mood, Cade smiled. He knew Holt despised it when his family insinuated he’d sold out to the glamorous world of politics. And, of course, they never could resist ribbing him about it.

  Instead, he and Holt spent lunch talking and laughing about the antics of Cade’s “boys” and Holt’s colleagues. They studi­ously avoided the topic of Annalisa’s sister. But all too soon, lunch was over.

  Cade left Holt at the capitol steps and walked back to his car. He slid into the driver’s seat and his troubled heart cried out for help to the only One who could give it.

  Lord, please show me Your will in this. I’m confused and helpless. Guide my steps in Your way, please. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As Cade maneuvered the SUV through the well-kept streets of the sprawling, prosperous neighborhood, he could see Amy was at least provided for financially. One of Annalisa’s fears could be laid to rest.

  Even if he could banish all of her fears and prove that Amy was happy, would that be enough? He wished he could be sure.

  He eased the car into the edge of the cul-de-sac and smiled. A brightly-colored Garage Sale sign adorned the mailbox next to the house number Ronnie had given him. When he realized it was Monday, his smile grew broader. A garage sale on a Monday was about as rare as a hard rain in the Sahara Desert, but right now it was equally as welcome. This would provide him the perfect cover to scout out Amy’s adoptive home with­out raising suspicions.

  He strolled down the driveway, focusing on blending in with the other customers. A slightly overweight woman in a neon green jogging suit was haggling with a young mother over a cradle.

  “Thirty-five dollars? I only need it for those rare times that my daughter-in-law lets me keep my grandbaby. Since it’s so close to closing time, would you take twenty?”

  The two dickered back and forth, and Cade pretended to examine an old lamp. When voices came from the next door lawn, he turned and held the lamp up as if to see it better.

  A giant red-headed man with a smile that seemed brighter than the sun had his arm around the shoulders of a child. The little girl had the same bow-shaped mouth and big chocolate-colored eyes that Annalisa had.

  Her brown hair was pulled up in a pert ponytail, but dark curls still cascaded almost to her waist. She bounced a basket­ball in one hand. Cade set the lamp down and stared as she tossed the ball through the basket.

  “Nothing but air!” she crowed and high-fived the man.

  “You’re too good for me, little Missy.” But he, too, spun around and shot the ball cleanly through the hoop.

  “Aw, Red, I mean Dad. . .” Her already broad grin grew wider. “. . .you know I’m not as good as you are.”

  “You’re not bad for a half-pint.” He pointed toward her shirt and when she looked down, he gently tweaked her nose.

  Her giggles resounded through the peaceful little cul-de-sac and even the green jogging suit grandma, cradle now in tow, cast a wistful look in that direction.

  A petite woman of about thirty came out of the house with two glasses of something that appeared to be lemonade. “Amy? Red? Y’all thirsty?”

  “Sure. . . ,” the little girl paused, then continued, pride ring­ing in her voice, “Mom.”

  Cade frowned. According to what Ronnie had found out, the adoption wasn’t actually final, but now that Amy’s father was out of the picture permanently, the Montgomerys proba­bly thought nothing could stop the adoption.

  Time to rain on their parade, Cade thought grimly and crossed the small bit of grass from one driveway to the other.

  “Mr. Montgomery?”

  The tall man spun around, but his smile remained in place. “Yes? May I help you?”

  “May I speak to you privately?”

  Red Montgomery looked puzzled, but he nodded amicably and smiled at his wife. “Hon, why don’t you and Amy go on in and figure out what you’re going to wear to VBS? We need to leave in an hour and a half.”

  At the mention of Vacation Bible School, Cade mentally marked another of Annalisa’s fears off the list. The child was being taught the Bible.

  After his wife and the little girl were safely in the house, Red Montgomery turned to Cade. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Cade McFadden.” He extended his hand, and Red shook it without hesitation. Cade was already finding much to like about this easy-going man. In spite of his misgivings, he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Red. “What I have to say is difficult. It’s about Amy.”

  Red glanced at the card. He looked toward the house and frowned. “What about her?”

  “Her sister is looking for her.”

  “Her sister?”

  “She’s twenty-four now. She was seventeen when social services took Amy away.”

  “And she’s looking for Amy?” Red’s voice cracked.

  “Yes, she doesn’t know yet that I’ve found her, but she wants to raise Amy herself.”

>   Red’s florid face went pale, and he collapsed onto a bench that looked purely decorative. It certainly didn’t appear that it would support a man his size, but Cade was grateful it did.

  “This can’t. . . We can’t. . .” Tears filled his eyes. Such raw emotion looked out of place on the big man’s happy face, but his pain was as palpable as the hot July sun.

  “Listen,” Cade spoke gently, “maybe she would agree to a compromise. If we could settle this without going to court or anything, would you allow Annalisa to see Amy? To spend time with her?” He finished his appeal and held his breath.

  Red put his face in his big hands and didn’t move for a minute. When he looked up, he shook his head. “Mr. McFadden, you don’t know what you’re asking. Amy came to us as a baby. We never had children, and she was our first fos­ter child.” He bent Cade’s business card into a triangle, con­centrating on it, as if it were a most important task. “Of course we hoped to adopt her, planned to, actually, but every time we’d think we were about to sign papers, her father would show up and refuse to give up his rights.” Red looked up at Cade in despair. “He never mentioned that Amy had a sister.”

  Cade squeezed his shoulder.

  Red cleared his throat. “Anyway, last year, after he found out he had lung cancer, we invited him to stay with us. He started going to church, and I believe he truly repented of the hard life he’d lived. He became a Christian shortly before he died.” Red flicked an invisible spot of dirt off the wrought iron arm of the bench, then looked back up at Cade. “But that doesn’t change the fact that because of him, Amy’s been a foster child instead of a Montgomery for the last seven years.”

  Cade winced at the man’s statement. How wonderfully close this child was to a state of belonging. And not belonging to a stranger, but to the people who’d loved and cared for her since she was a year old.

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Red shook his head again. “I’m not a hard man, Mr. McFadden, but Amy’s sister hasn’t seen her in seven years. I’d just as soon keep it that way.”

  Cade nodded. What would he tell Annalisa?