Apprentice Father

Warmth crept up Clay’s neck. He considered himself to be a pretty tolerant and unbiased guy, but he didn’t often come into contact with people who had physical disabilities. And despite the positive spin she’d given his obvious unease by praising his concern for the children’s welfare, her graciousness didn’t alleviate his chagrin.

“I’m sure Reverend Richards wouldn’t have recommended you if you weren’t capable.”

“True. But it’s best to get any reservations on the table at the beginning. I’ve learned that people are often curious about my disabilities, and I don’t mind talking about them if that will help put your mind at ease.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight. He was curious. And not just because he was concerned about Cate’s ability to deal with the children. She was a beautiful woman—and far too young to have to rely on a cane. He wanted to know what had happened to her.

“Fourteen years ago, when I was eighteen, I had Guillain-Barre Syndrome.” She answered his question before he could figure out a diplomatic way to ask it. “Are you familiar with that condition?”

“I’ve heard the name. But that’s all.”

“You’re not alone. Few people know much about it. It’s a rare illness that generally affects men over the age of forty, so I wasn’t a typical victim. It causes the body’s immune system to attack the nerves. Most people make a full recovery.”

She paused, and Clay saw a brief flash of pain ricochet across her eyes. “I take it you weren’t typical in that regard, either.”

“No. And since I didn’t fit the standard profile, I wasn’t diagnosed fast enough. I ended up paralyzed and went into respiratory failure. Even with symptoms that severe, however, most people recover. Longer-lasting effects, like lingering weakness in the arms or legs, usually go away with physical therapy. In a few cases, they don’t.”

Like hers.

The facts were clear, but there was much she hadn’t spoken of, Clay reflected. And questions she hadn’t answered. Like how had it felt, at the age of eighteen, to be struck with such a debilitating condition? How had it changed her life? What dreams had she been forced to give up? How had she found the strength to cope?

He couldn’t begin to fathom what it must have been like for her to suddenly find her world so constricted, her options so limited.

“I’m sorry.” It was a pathetically inadequate response, and he knew it.

The door behind him creaked, and Clay swung around to find Emily peering through the crack, reminding him that he should have invited Cate in instead of letting her tell her life story while standing on the landing.

His neck grew warm and he motioned toward the door. “Why don’t we go inside?” Stepping aside to let her precede him, he was struck again by her delicate, willowy frame and her long, slender fingers as they gripped her cane.

For some reason, he was tempted to reach out, take her arm, reassure her, help her. It was an odd inclination—and completely inappropriate, he reminded himself, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead. She was here about a job. Nothing more.

“Hi, Cate,” Emily greeted their visitor in a soft, shy voice.

“Hello, Emily.” Cate stopped on the threshold, and Clay caught a faint whiff of some sweet, subtle scent wafting from her hair that kicked his pulse up a notch. “Where’s your brother?”

Josh peeked around Emily’s shoulder and smiled.

“How many pancakes did you eat?” Cate asked him.

He pondered, struggling through the math. “Four.”

“No wonder you’re such a big boy!”

He gave her a pleased grin, then he and Emily moved away from the door to allow her to enter.

Clay followed at a safe distance, shutting the door as he gave the room a swift survey, trying to see it through Cate’s eyes. He spent so little time in the succession of apartments he’d occupied that he always opted for a small, furnished place—living room, efficiency kitchen, bedroom and bath. This was no exception.

Until today, Clay had thought the place was fine, if a bit cramped. But suddenly he recognized all its shortcomings. Besides being small, it was too sterile. There was nothing personal in the place to distinguish it from any unoccupied apartment in the complex. Nothing to suggest it was a home. Nothing warm and inviting. In other words, not the best environment for the children. Cate’s expression, however, gave no hint of her reaction.

“Would you like some coffee?” he offered.

“No, thanks. But a glass of water would be great.”

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured toward the living room.

“I’d like to spend a few minutes with the children first, if you don’t mind. I brought an activity for them. May I borrow your kitchen table?”

“Sure. Help yourself.”

Cate followed him toward the kitchen, and as he got ice and water, she sat at the small table. The kids watched with interest as she withdrew a small tape recorder, a pad of paper and a box of crayons from her large shoulder tote.

“What’s all that for?” Emily asked.

“I thought you might like to draw some pictures while I talk to your uncle.” She tore off some sheets of paper and spread the crayons on the table. “The lady on the tape will tell you a story about a farmer and ask you to draw some of the things she talks about. After the tape ends, you can show me all your pictures.”

“Emily draws good,” Josh told Cate. “She drawed me a bird once.”

“Today you’ll both have a chance to draw lots of different animals. And a tractor and a barn and a big stalk of corn. And the sun and rain that make it grow.”

After settling the children at the table, Cate started the tape player and listened to the beginning with them to ensure they understood the instructions.

From a few feet away, Clay watched, one hip propped against the counter. She had a way with kids, no question about it. They seemed to like and trust her. And she certainly knew how to keep them entertained. If they could work out a child care arrangement, he would be forever in Reverend Richards’s debt.

And not just for the kids’ sake, he realized. Though he knew little about the woman standing a few feet away, he felt comfortable in her presence. Reassured, somehow, that things would work out. He found her as appealing as his niece and nephew did—on a lot of levels, he acknowledged, watching her soft blond hair brush the gentle sweep of her cheek as she leaned close to help Josh select a crayon.

When Cate turned toward him, her slight blush told him she was aware he’d been staring. Not good, he berated himself. He needed her child care services, and making her nervous was not going to work in his favor.

Clearing his throat, he pushed away from the counter and inclined his head toward the living room.

He followed her into the adjacent room, noting as he took a chair at right angles to the couch that the volume of the tape was loud enough to mask their conversation. Add in the giggles of the children—a heartwarming sound he hadn’t heard before—and it was clear they would be able to talk in privacy.

He was impressed.

“Good idea.” He gestured toward the kitchen, keeping his voice low.

“Based on what you said this morning at church, I had a feeling there might be some things we needed to discuss that you didn’t want them to hear. And it’s not wise to send such young children outside to play alone. Especially in an apartment setting.” She leaned forward slightly. “You mentioned this morning that you’d tried a local day care center, but it hadn’t worked out?”

“It lasted all of two days. Josh had an…accident…both days during his nap, and they weren’t willing to deal with a bed-wetting four-year-old.”

She frowned. “Does this happen often?”

“No. Emily says when he’s upset he tends to have accidents at night. It’s happened a couple of times.”

“Losing their mother is more than enough to upset young children. Not to mention moving to a new place.” Compassion softened Cate’s features.

“To be honest, they’ve had far more trauma than that.” Drawing a ragged breath, Clay gave her a brief overview of their life—and of his sister’s death. As he spoke, the sympathy in Cate’s eyes changed to shock, then horror.

“An environment like that can be so destructive to a child.” She sent a concerned glance toward Emily and Josh. “It can take years to undo the damage.”

“And I’m not the best person for the job. I’m on the move a lot, and I work long hours. Neither of which is conducive to family life.”

“There’s no one else who can take the children?”

“My father says they can live with him after he recovers from a bout of pneumonia. But my sister wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“May I ask why?”

Leaning forward, Clay rested his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees. “My father isn’t the warmest or kindest person in the world.” He chose his words with care as he stared at the floor. “These kids would wither in his house. They need fun and laughter and love, and they won’t get it there.”

“Are you going to keep them?”

“I don’t know.” He raked his fingers through his hair, the familiar panic twisting his stomach into a knot. “I left home at seventeen, spent a dozen years in the Army, and I now have a job that takes me all over the country. I’ve been on my own for close to eighteen years, and I like it that way. I’ve never wanted a responsibility like this. As long as the kids are with me, though, I want to do my best to restore some semblance of childhood to their lives. But I can’t do it alone. That’s why I need your help.”

Cate’s gaze locked with his for a moment. Then she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and rose. “I need to give this a little thought, and pray about it. Can I call you later tonight?”

He stood, too, doing his best to rein in his escalating panic. Although he’d been concerned at first about Cate’s disability, after talking with her and watching how she’d connected with Emily and Josh, he knew she would be perfect for them. But he understood her caution. She wouldn’t be walking into the easiest situation. Yet they needed her, as surely as parched plants need water to survive.

“Look, is there anything I can say to convince you? I can give you the name of my sister’s minister in Nebraska, or the police department, if you want to check out my story.”

“I know how hard this must be for you.” Her features gentled. “Give me a few hours. I’ll have an answer for you tonight.” She grasped her cane and stood. “I’d like to say goodbye to the children.”

“Could I…would you mind giving me your phone number?” Clay didn’t even try to hide his desperation.

“Of course.” She recited her number as he jotted it down. “But I will call tonight.”

He watched as she moved over to the table and gave each child’s drawings her full attention, offering words of praise and encouragement. Their faces were more animated than Clay had ever seen them.

If he was the praying type, he’d get down on his knees the minute she left and ask God to make her decide in his favor. As it was, he simply sent a silent entreaty, a single eloquent word, to whoever in the cosmos might happen to be listening.

Please!

“Now tell us about that nice-looking man with the two adorable children I saw you talking to at church this morning.” Cate’s mother passed the basket of fresh-baked rolls to her daughter.

Cate had wondered how long it would take for someone in her family to grill her about that conversation. That was the one bad thing about being part of a close-knit clan. Everybody assumed they had a right to know everything about your life. On the plus side, however, her family had often proven to be a good sounding board.

“A man by the name of Clay Adams.” She quickly filled them in on the situation.

“Poor man,” her mother murmured.

“It might be better to go for a more permanent position,” Mark offered as he helped himself to a second serving of roast chicken.

Her older brother had always been the most security-conscious sibling, and Cate wasn’t surprised by his response. In light of his legal training, she also expected him to give her the third degree about Clay—unless Rob beat him to it.

“Sounds like this man could really use your help, though,” her grandfather chimed in.

“The timing is perfect, too, since you’re free now, anyway,” her father added.

“It’s odd how it worked out.” Cate’s face grew pensive. “I mean, he could have gone to any church, but he picked ours. And if he hadn’t spoken to Pastor Bob, I would never have gotten involved. It’s funny how a chance meeting can have such an impact.”

“I’m not convinced it was chance,” her mother declared. “I think it’s all part of God’s plan.”

“Does this guy’s story seem on the up-and-up to you?” Rob interjected.

“Spoken like a true police officer,” Cate teased her younger brother.

“Hey, you can’t be too careful these days.”

“True. But he offered to put me in touch with the police department in his sister’s hometown and her pastor.”

“That’s a good sign,” Rob conceded. “If you ask me, I think you ought to help the guy out. He’s new in town, has no family around and is trying to juggle what sounds like a demanding job with the needs of two kids. Speaking from the perspective of a single male, I imagine he’s in way over his head and sinking fast.”

“I think that’s a fair assessment.” Cate propped her chin in her hand and toyed with her mashed potatoes. “And the children are wonderful. But they need a lot of love and attention.”

“Do you think it might be too much for you?” Her mother gave her a worried look.

“A challenge, maybe. But not too much.”

“You’d be perfect for them,” Michelle declared. “And I could help in a pinch, if things get crazy. It would be good practice.” She patted her swelling tummy.

At her sister-in-law’s comment, Cate smiled. “I think you’re going to have other things on your mind for the next few months. But I appreciate the offer.” She surveyed the table. “It sounds like the family consensus is that I should take the job.”

“It would be the Christian thing to do,” her mother said.

“What do you think, Cate?” her grandfather asked.

She sent him a grateful smile. Her opinionated family could be rather overwhelming, but Pop always managed to inject a subtle reminder that her decisions were, in the end, hers. They’d always been close, and the spry older man had been her staunchest ally when she’d decided to buy a condo despite the protests of her parents and her overly protective brothers.

“I’m going to pray on it a bit, but I think I’m going to do it. I sense a real need here. Besides, like Mom said, it would be the Christian thing to do.”

“Whatever you decide will be the right thing.” The conviction in Pop’s tone ended the discussion. “Now where’s that homemade apple pie?”

As the conversation shifted, Cate looked around at her family, the support system that had gotten her through the tough times. She’d always known she could count on them to lend a helping hand. That was a great blessing. One Clay Adams didn’t have.

Perhaps, as her mother had suggested, their “chance” meeting today hadn’t been chance at all, but part of God’s plan. If it was, her decision seemed clear. But it couldn’t hurt to ask for guidance.

Lord, if You don’t think I’m the best person for this job, please let me know. And if You do want me to take it, I ask for strength and wisdom as I deal with these traumatized children. Because helping them heal, giving them a sense of security, bringing joy and laughter back into their lives, will be the biggest challenge of my career. And I don’t want to fail.

Chapter Three

“We’re going to the park tomorrow to fly a kite,” Emily told Clay as she handed him a dinner plate to add to the load in the dishwasher.

He rinsed the plate. “We don’t have a kite.”

“Yes, we do. Cate stopped at the store today and got one.”

Clay frowned. He’d told Cate to keep track of expenses, but ten days into the job she’d only requested reimbursement for groceries. Although he hadn’t asked her to take on shopping and cooking chores, he was grateful she had. His kitchen was now stocked with fresh vegetables, healthy frozen entrees and home-cooked casseroles.

But if she was buying other things—like kites—for the children, he needed to pay her back for those, too. He made a mental note to discuss it with her.

Clay picked up the plate of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies from the table…another perk of Cate’s employment.

“Emily and me helped make those,” Josh offered.

“You did a great job, buddy.” Clay smiled and took another cookie. “They’re the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had. Did you see how many I ate?”

“Bunches,” Josh said.

The corners of Clay’s mouth hitched up. “Too true. Emily, are you finished with your milk?” He reached for her glass.

“No!” Her hand shot out, knocking the glass over and sending a stream of white liquid surging across the kitchen table. Anxiety tightened her features, but at least she didn’t cringe as Josh had when he’d spilled his milk the day after they’d arrived. Clay hoped that meant he was making progress toward his goal of convincing the children that not all men reacted with anger to mistakes, like their father had. But it was slow going.

“I’m sorry.” Emily’s words came out hesitant and soft.

Clay sopped up the spilled milk with a dish towel, dropped into a chair to put himself at her level—a technique he’d picked up from Cate—and held out his hand. He’d discovered that quick movements caused the children to recoil in fear and had learned to let them make the connection.

“It’s okay, Emily. It was a mistake. Easy to fix. We have plenty of milk.”

After considering his outstretched hand, she inched hers across the table. As she made tentative contact, he enfolded her small fingers in his and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Tell me about this kite flying.” He refilled her glass and set it in front of her before sitting back at the table with his cup of coffee.

“We saw some kids flying kites in the park today, and we asked Cate if we could do that, too. She said she was a little…” Emily squinted in concentration, trying to remember the word.

“Russy,” Josh supplied.

“What does that mean?” Emily sent Clay a quizzical look.

“I think she probably said ‘rusty.’” Clay tried to stifle his smile. “It means out of practice.”

“Oh. Anyway, she said she was a little rusty, but we’d give it a try. We stopped at the store and got a kite on the way home.”

“I’ll show it to you.” Josh scampered into the bedroom, returning a minute later with an inexpensive kite kit. “We have to put it together.”

“Do you want to do that now?”

“Can we?” Josh asked eagerly.

“Sure.”

Fifteen minutes later, Clay held the bright red kite aloft for the children to admire.

“Wow!” Josh regarded it in awe. “Cate says we have to run like the wind to make it fly.”

Even though Cate had put her cane aside and was moving much better than the day they’d met, her limp was still apparent. And the children’s legs were too short to allow them to run fast enough to get the kite airborne. How was she planning to get this aloft? Clay wondered.

“When are you going to fly it?” he asked.

“Cate says before lunch.” Josh touched the kite in wonder.

“I’m finished with my milk now.” Emily handed Clay her empty glass.

He added it to the dishwasher. “Okay. Bath time.”

The bedtime ritual was still too unfamiliar to him to be done by rote, but once the children were settled, Clay’s thoughts returned to Cate rather than the unfinished work he’d brought home. He hadn’t known her very long. And he didn’t know her well. Their exchanges had been confined to a few words in the morning and evening, and a quick hello at church on Sunday. But he admired her. Not only for her kindness and consideration with the children, but for her strength and endurance. Despite the harsh, unfair blow life had dealt her, she’d managed to make her peace with it and move on. And she didn’t let it stop her from living as normal a life as possible.

That’s why he was worried. If she wanted to fly a kite, Clay was certain she’d find a way to do it.

But he didn’t want her to get hurt in the process.

Cate knotted the last piece of colorful cotton cloth onto the kite’s tail and held it out for the children to inspect. “What do you think?”

“It’s pretty.” Emily touched it with reverence. “Do you think it will fly?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” She handed it to Pop. “Are you ready to do the honors for this inaugural flight?”

“I haven’t flown a kite in years, but I don’t think I’ve lost the touch. Emily, why don’t you hold the kite. Josh, you take the tail.”

Caution suppressing their enthusiasm, they did as he instructed in silence. Cate was glad she’d asked Pop to help today. Clay had assured her the children’s father hadn’t hurt them, and her own gentle probing with them had led her to the same conclusion. But it was clear they’d been afraid of him. And they’d transferred that fear to all men.

They were better now with Clay. She could see their tension slowly easing when they were around him. Enough that she’d decided it was time to expand their horizons. And Pop was the perfect next step.

“Okay, I think we’re all set,” he declared.

He led the way to the open field, positioning Emily with her hands aloft, lifting the kite into the wind, while Josh took up the rear, holding the tail above the ground. Unwinding string as he walked, he moved a few feet away.

“Okay. On the count of three, let the kite go, Emily. You too, Josh. One, two…” Pop started jogging, “three!”

As Cate watched from a bench, Emily and Josh released the kite and tail, and it soared for a brief glorious moment.

Then it crashed to the ground.

Pop stopped and rewound the string as he worked his way back to the kite. “Don’t worry,” he assured the disappointed children. “They don’t always fly the first time. Let’s give it another try.”

Their second attempt produced the same results. Three tries later, after adding some additional tail and moving to a different spot, they were no closer to getting it aloft. But their less-than-successful efforts had broken down the barriers between the children and Pop. The three of them were now chatting like old friends.

Cate watched as Pop examined the kite. He was in great shape for his age, but she didn’t want him to overexert himself.

“Maybe it’s not a good kite.” Josh examined it in disgust.

“Kite’s fine,” Pop declared, huffing as he checked it over. “Must be the pilot.”

Stepping in, Cate reached for the kite. “Go rest for a minute while I take a look at it.”

He handed over the kite, shook his head and planted his fists on his hips. “Can’t figure it out. Wind’s good. Kite’s strong. Should have flown.”

“Go sit.” Cate grinned and gave him a firm push. “Let the expert take over.”

The twinkle in his eye mitigated his indignant tone. “Expert, huh? I’ll have you know I was a champion kite flyer in my younger days.”

“Okay, okay, you can try again in a minute. In the meantime, go sit.”

“I’ll be back,” he told the children. “We’ll get this baby up yet.”

As he headed for a nearby bench Emily leaned toward Cate and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t think it’s going to fly.”

Cate considered the kite. In general, she didn’t attempt any activity that required her to run, but her leg felt strong today. She wouldn’t have to go far. A few steps, at the most. She was sure she could get the kite to soar with very little effort. The temptation to give it a try herself was too strong to resist.

Ignoring the warning that began to flash in her mind, she turned to the children. “Emily, you hold the kite again. Josh, you take the tail. Let’s show Pop who the real champion kite flyers are.”