A Family for Faith

He straightened up into his big, bad Chief of Police stance. “She’s my daughter. I know what’s best for her.”

And she’d thought she’d known what was best for her son. She’d been very protective of him, too. Trying to make sure he didn’t go down the drinking-and-partying path his dad had gone down many years before. But her controlling had pushed Ben in the opposite direction.

For some reason, she needed to make Gabe understand. “Yes, you do know what’s best. But sometimes, knowing best doesn’t matter. If we smother them and don’t give them room to become independent, we set them up to make bad decisions.”

He studied her through squinted eyes, this time with suspicion. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Yeah. I’d been left by my dad and my husband and thought if I worked hard enough I could hang on to my son. But it pushed him right into a group of friends who were an awful influence.”

She snapped her mouth shut before she revealed more. The townspeople knew Ben lived with his dad and that he was too busy with sports to come visit. But she’d never shared with anyone the details of her son’s problems in middle school, about his begging to live with his dad in Atlanta—about how he thrived once he moved there. When she moved to Corinthia a year ago to be closer to Ben, it was also to get away from the years of strange looks from former friends, to get away from the sideways glances. What’s wrong with Faith that her son did so poorly in her care, then had a complete turnaround when he got away from her?

“I’m sorry, Faith. I didn’t realize all you’ve been through,” he said. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

She’d promised Chelsea she’d try to talk to him and she had. Duty fulfilled. “Okay, then. Good night.” She hurried down the porch stairs and along the front walk. By the time she reached the grass between their houses, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hold up a second, Faith.” When Gabe reached her, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, I’m sorry. I appreciate your offer to help. I do. But…” He looked at his feet. At the sky. At her house. “I know you’re right about Chelsea. In my head, I know it. But in here—” he thumped a fist on his chest “—I can’t go there yet.”

Her heart ached at the look of pain on his face. “Children can do that to the best of us.”

“Yeah.” He rocked back on his heels. “I guess I actually could use your help. Some female guidance for Chelsea since she’s been pushing for independence. I’ve got to do something. I can’t let her…” His voice hitched.

Why, Lord? Why get me involved in this? She wished she could simply tell him good luck and turn away. But as if God Himself were forcing the words out of her mouth, she said, “What can I do?”

The breath huffed out of him and his tense expression eased. He laughed. “I have no idea.”

His smile ravaged her already tender nerves. She’d always thought he was handsome. Especially when in uniform. But seeing him in angst over his young daughter sent his attractiveness to a whole new level.

“Well, I can tell you she was glowing with happiness after hanging out at the café tonight. Anything you can do to let her spend more time with friends will go a long way.”

He crossed his arms as he digested that bit of information. “Have the kids her age been coming to the café this summer?”

“Yes, some.”

“Can Chels hang out with you one day this week?”

Oh, I don’t think so was pushing at the edge of her lips. But the earnest look on his face snapped her lips tightly closed. Instead, she uttered, “Of course. How about tomorrow?”

The strong, rugged man smiled, his nearly-black eyes beaming in the moonlight. He took hold of both her hands and gave a quick squeeze. “I appreciate your help.”

What on earth was she doing? She should run in the other direction. She didn’t have any business taking a middle school girl under her wing. Chelsea was right about the age Ben had been when he started rebelling. Her kid with all A’s had done an about-face and had started on the slippery slope toward becoming a juvenile delinquent. And by the time Faith realized what was happening, she’d been too late to stop it.

What if Faith failed with Chelsea, too? What if her advice to Gabe backfired?

“I’ll bring her by during my lunch break tomorrow,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. Anytime.”

“Good night, Faith.”

His warm, deep voice brushed along her nerves, almost like a brush of his hand, soothing her.

He was a kind man. A good father. A strong leader in the community.

But he was hurting. Probably still grieving. Struggling with a strong-willed daughter.

Okay, so it looked as if God may have put Faith in a position to help father and daughter. She would do what she could. But she better not fail this time.

Chapter Two

Gabe couldn’t resist. The next afternoon, a couple of hours after he dropped off Chelsea and traded cell phone numbers with Faith, he cruised by the coffee shop in his squad car and tried to get a glimpse of Chelsea, to see how it was going. Maybe buying her a cell phone with the stipulation she check in regularly wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Ever since Chelsea hit middle school, she’d been begging for the chance to stay home alone. And the previous Friday, he’d actually set the rarely used alarm system and left her alone. But it had been the longest two hours of his life. What if she falls…or burns herself or a stranger comes knocking?

Letting her hang out at the coffee shop was only marginally better.

He yanked out his cell phone and dialed Faith’s cell number.

“She’s fine,” she said instead of answering with hello.

Apparently, he was predictable. “Thanks. Don’t tell her I checked up on her.”

Laughter sounded in the background. And not all of it was female. “Your secret is safe,” she said over the din.

He wanted to know exactly who was there doing all that laughing—in that bass voice. “Is Chelsea with a boy?”

“Um. Some of her friends stopped by.” He sensed a bit of hesitation. As if she hadn’t really wanted to give out that info.

“Thanks.” He ended the call and parked, even though he knew Faith would take good care of Chelsea. Even though he knew his daughter would think he was interfering with her brief stint of independence.

Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on work if he didn’t investigate.

He nodded and waved to passersby, calling each by name, as he strode down the blistering-hot sidewalk. Gabe’s smile held as he opened the door to Faith’s Coffee Time Café.

Faith really had a knack for decorating. Since she’d bought the shop a year ago, she’d made the place feel homey and inviting with a couple of groupings of comfy chairs, tables with Mason jars full of fresh flowers, a display case holding mouthwatering pastries, the perpetual smell of coffee and, normally, soft Christian music in the background.

But today, giggling drowned out the music.

When Faith spotted him, her face screwed up into a wince. She made shooing motions with her hand, as if he were some irritating fly buzzing around the place.

He ignored her warning and meandered toward the table, trying to catch snippets of the conversation—all the while eyeballing the boy sitting glued to Chelsea’s side.

The kid with flyaway blond hair and freckles seemed way more than friendly. He and Chelsea had separated a bit from the group, were in their own little conversation. He had his arm around the back of her chair and practically had his tongue hanging out of his mouth like some lovesick puppy dog.

“Chels?” Her name cracked across the café, louder than he’d intended.

More-than-friendly boy popped straight up to standing. He looked familiar, like maybe he was one of those troublemaking Pruitt boys. “Hello, sir,” he said. But his voice, in the middle of changing, squeaked halfway through the greeting.

Chelsea’s two friends—Valerie and Theresa—laughed.

Chelsea didn’t. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to make sure you and Faith were doing okay.”

“We’re fine.” She stared him down, anger narrowing her eyes and making her face splotchy red.

Too bad. “Well, I’m not sure this was such a good idea.” He gave a nod of his head toward the boy. Then, to Chelsea, said, “It might be time to go.”

“I’m just hanging out with some friends from church. I don’t want to leave.”

Her ramrod straight back probably matched his at the moment. She might look like her mother with her light brown eyes and long, curly hair, but he could only blame himself for her stubborn streak.

They stared at each other in a face-off.

“Good grief,” Faith mumbled as she approached the table. “You two are certainly cut from the same cloth.”

Gabe glanced at Faith. “I think it’s time to break up this little party.”

“I’ll leave, sir,” the boy beside Chelsea said, the sir coming out an octave higher.

“Which Pruitt are you?” Gabe barked.

“Parker, sir.” The kid was terrified. Acted like he thought he would be arrested for talking to the chief’s daughter.

If only it were that easy.

“Gabe…” Faith’s sweet, conciliatory tone was wasted on him.

They were talking hormones here. Male and female in close proximity. Male and his daughter in close proximity. “Time to go, Chels. Tell your friends bye.”

“Chief Reynolds,” Valerie said. “Please let her stay. My mom just ran to pick up a prescription. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I better go,” blurted the young Pruitt boy.

About time he took the hint. The boy couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

Good. Maybe he wouldn’t come back.

Chelsea snatched up her purse and stormed out of the café not far behind Pruitt.

Faith shook her head, then walked over behind the counter. As if he’d failed some test.

He followed her there and he couldn’t help but notice how good she smelled. Like last night only with the added sweetness of the pastries. And the coffee. All his favorite smells. “Why are you looking at me as if I’m the villain here?”

She got right in his face and whispered, “You knew she’d be safe here with me. Why’d you have to embarrass her and ruin her fun?”

“Because she’s too young to be sneaking off with boys.”

Faith’s mouth fell open as a huff whooshed out. “She didn’t sneak off. The others decided to come—as a group, I might add—once they found out Chelsea was here.”

“And how did they know she was here?” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “That Pruitt boy—”

“Parker.”

“Those Pruitts are bad news. Parker had his arm around her. He was practically drooling on her.”

Faith glanced at Valerie and Theresa. “I was watching every move, ready to step in. Nothing inappropriate happened.” She snapped a paper towel off the roll and wiped something off the counter. “You asked me to watch her and now you don’t trust my judgment.”

Great. Faith was trying to help him, and he’d made her—and his daughter—mad at him in one fell swoop.

“Look, I’m sorry. This is new territory.”

With a white-knuckled grip, she attacked a coffee ring on the counter. “I understand. You better go check on her.”

He’d really blown it. He tried to smile as he threw his hand up in a wave and walked out. When he got to the squad car and saw Chelsea inside in a heap of misery, a wave of regret plowed into him.

He climbed in quietly. “Chels, what’s wrong?”

She laughed even as she sobbed. “You’re kidding, right?”

He had no clue how to kiss it and make it better these days. They were well beyond that stage.

Pitiful black-tinged tears spilled over her reddened cheeks.

“You broke the rules and wore mascara again.”

Without acknowledging him, she turned her back and huddled against the passenger door. “Get me out of here before someone sees me.”

He drove home slowly, missing his normally cheerful child. As they walked inside the empty house, he tried to put his arm around her shoulders and give her a quick squeeze. She jerked away from him and ran to her room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

The ensuing silence roared in his ears. He couldn’t stand it, so he turned on the television. Which didn’t help much. One of the things he missed most about Tina was the way she’d filled the house with music. She either sang or played the radio all the time.

He looked around the living room. Same paint. Same furniture. Same books and photos. Everything arranged the way it had been the day she died.

But nothing was the same. Never would be again.

And now Chelsea was trying to grow up. He was in over his head and couldn’t see how he would manage.

He snapped off the TV and reached in the game cabinet. Maybe a friendly game of Chelsea’s favorite, Monopoly, would help smooth things over. He could call Fred to cover for him and take an hour off work.

He carried the game box to Chelsea’s room and knocked.

“Go away.”

“Come on, Chels. Open up for a sec.”

She unlocked the door but didn’t open it.

He went inside and found her sprawled sideways, face down, on the pink-draped canopy bed—her little-girl bed. The covers were all bunched up near her head as if she’d dived across the surface, scrunching them up as she slid.

He would not apologize for protecting her. She might not understand now, but she would someday when she had kids of her own. “Come on. Let’s play a round of Monopoly.”

“No.”

“I promise not to win.”

She sniffed. “You can’t promise that.”

“I promise not to put houses on my property.” She paused and he thought he had her.

“No, I need to work on my summer reading project.”

The paper she’d written two weeks earlier? “I thought you finished it.”

“I’ll check it over again.”

She wanted to check over a project that wasn’t due for three more weeks? Boy, he’d sure moved down on her list of fun people. “Okay. I’ll let you study.”

“You’ve got to work anyway.”

Why did she always say that as if he were committing a crime by holding down a job that provided for her? “I do have a split shift today. Gotta go back from seven to ten. But I can get Fred to cover for a little while.”

“So I’ve got Kristy coming over to stay with me?” Her sneer was no reflection on the babysitter.

“I know you want to stay alone. But not at night. Not yet.”

She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, then sat up. “Well, if you won’t let me do that yet, the least you can do is let me go back to the café.”

More than anything, he wanted to be a good dad. To keep her safe—physically and emotionally. Maybe this was one little thing he could bend on, though. “Can you promise me no boys?”

“I didn’t invite him today.” Her gaze darted away. “Well, not directly.”

“Is Parker your boyfriend?” He waited for her answer, holding his breath, wishing this day hadn’t come.

She shrugged. “No. We’re just talking.”

This boy-girl stuff was something Tina would have handled so much better. He sat down beside Chelsea on the bed and rubbed her back. “When a boy has his arm around you like that, then it looks like he considers you his girlfriend. Do you want to be his girlfriend?”

“Sort of. Maybe.” The sparkle in her eye, though, told him it was a definite yes.

“You need to make up your own mind and not be pushed into anything. Boys, well, they…sometimes they’re…pushy.” His face must’ve been as red as hers. He knew they needed a birds-and-bees talk at some point, but—

“I’ve had health class, Dad, if that’s what you’re trying to get around to.”

He vaguely remembered signing a permission form. “Okay. Good.” But he still might need Faith to talk to her.

“Everything is fine with Parker. I like him.”

Tina had always prayed for Chelsea. That God would be working in the life of the man she would marry someday. That God would protect Chelsea and prepare her to meet her future husband. But Gabe had failed to take over the duty, and now something—guilt—nudged him to at least consider praying for his child. But would God even listen to him anymore? It had been so long…” Chels, I don’t like this boyfriend-girlfriend stuff at your age. I want you to wait until you’re older.”

“How old?” Fire lit in her eyes as she challenged him.

Twenty-five? “We’ll figure it out later.”

He’d been spoiled. He realized that now. He had been Chelsea’s whole world the last few years. But now she wanted to broaden her horizons, to include others.

He wasn’t ready yet to let her grow up. And though he couldn’t stop her, he was determined not to let her rush it.

That evening, when they had a rare moment without a customer at the cafe, Faith sat at a table with Natalie—hard-working, honest, dependable and fun. The best employee she’d ever hired. She thanked God for her every day.

“Since I’ll be on vacation for two weeks, you’ll need to order supplies.” Faith handed Natalie a file folder. “Here’s the checklist I use. On Sunday evening after you close, you’ll need to do inventory. Then Monday morning, place the orders.”

Once they looked over the list together, Natalie seemed confident. “I’ve got it. No problem.” She closed the folder, handed it back to Faith, then slapped her hand flat on the table.

She was acting so strangely. “What—” Faith caught a glimpse of…a ring? Natalie had a sparkling diamond ring on her left ring finger. “What on earth?”

The young woman’s grin widened. Her eyes radiated joy as she trilled out a happy laugh. “I didn’t think you’d ever notice!”

“You and Vince got engaged?”

“Yep. Last night.” She wiggled her fingers out in front of her, the diamond flashing in the light.

Faith examined the ring closely. “It’s beautiful. Have you set a date?”

“Not yet. Now, back to earth. I’ve gotta go make the last batch of cookie dough.”

Faith resisted the twinge of envy. She’d never experienced the thrill of an engagement or a traditional wedding. Her marriage to Walt had been a quick, hushed trip to the courthouse accompanied by grim-faced parents. And she’d long ago given up on ever finding Mr. Right. Besides, Natalie had snatched up the best man around, even if he was ten years too young for Faith.

There’s also Gabe. The thought popped into Faith’s mind as she headed to her office to catch up on some paperwork. Yeah, he was a good man, too.

But everyone knew he would never be able to care for another woman like he had Tina. Though Faith had never met Gabe’s deceased wife, she’d heard over and over from friends at church what a paragon of womanhood she’d been. The perfect wife, perfect mother.

And perfect was not something Faith could ever do.

As she plunked into her chair, the phone rang. Gabe.

“I feel like I’m imposing on our friendship,” he said, “but I’m in a jam. Babysitter canceled last minute and Chelsea suggested I call you.”

She closed her eyes. She’d done her neighborly duty—had kept her promise to Chelsea. Had even agreed to help Gabe by having Chelsea come to the cafe that day. But babysit? “I’m here until closing tonight, Gabe. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll keep trying to find someone. Thanks, Faith.” He hung up.

She tried not to fret about letting him down, but she did feel a pinch of guilt. Monday nights weren’t very busy. And Natalie could probably handle it by herself. Faith could even come back after watching Chelsea and close up.

She smoothed her fingers over the desktop. Everything was in its place—as usual. But she straightened the pencils in the pencil holder anyway, trying to force them to stay evenly spaced around the container.

No. She would not get involved. Gabe could find someone trustworthy to take care of his child. Scads of women from church would love to watch Chelsea.

Gabe fought disappointment after he hung up the phone with Faith. He sensed there was more to her refusal than simple busyness. “Come on, Chels. How about you ride with me for a while? If I get any calls or don’t find someone to watch you before your bedtime, I’ll call Fred.”

“Faith couldn’t do it?”

“No. And everyone I tried is tied up at the moment.”

Her eyes lit up. “Cool. I’ll be ready in a sec.”

“You’re not going on any calls with me. So don’t get your hopes up.”

She hurried to her room, then reappeared about ten seconds later wearing pink flip-flops. “Ready!”

The child was entirely too excited about going to work with him. Other than the occasional speeder or fender bender, he didn’t have many calls on weeknights. Corinthia was a peaceful little town and he intended to keep it that way.

They climbed in the car and patrolled downtown. The recent renovation of Main Street had given it a much-needed face-lift. New paint, new awnings, pots overflowing with flowers, all made it fresh and inviting.

Most businesses had shut down around five. But a few remained open—the pizza place and Faith’s coffee shop among them. Even at seven o’clock, the summer sun and the muggy heat zapped everyone out on the streets. Life seemed to move like molasses in July and August.

Gabe waved to everyone he drove by. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Chelsea did the same.

It reminded him of when she was a toddler and used to sit perched in her car seat in the back of his cruiser and wave every time they passed someone—flapping her little fingers toward herself.

Those were the days. Back when he thought he and Tina would have a lifetime together. When he thought nothing bad could touch him again.

Chelsea pointed across the street. “Look, Coffee Time’s still open. I’d love some hot chocolate.”

“You’re kidding. It’s ninety-two degrees out.”

“Let’s stop and see Faith. Please?”

Why did his daughter have a sudden interest in their next-door neighbor and her coffee shop? “I guess. Nothing much going on around town right now.”

When they walked into the café, Faith hopped up from a table where she sat with Natalie. When she saw it was them, her smile wilted. She was obviously still mad at him.

He nodded their direction. “Ladies.”

Faith met them behind the counter. “Didn’t you find anyone to watch Chelsea?” She appeared distressed at the notion.

“No. But we’re having a nice time patrolling.”

Chelsea grinned up at him. “I’m a good deputy.”

Faith brushed some coffee grounds off the counter, then grabbed a towel to wipe up a spot he couldn’t see. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help. Natalie and I—”

Gabe’s radio squawked. “Excuse me a minute,” he said, then he headed outside to take the call.

“Whatya got, Wanda?”

“Possible prowler at the Emersons’,” the dispatcher said before rattling off the address. “Empty house. They’re on vacation.”

“Thanks. I’ll head there now.” He hustled back inside.

Before he could say anything, Faith held up her hand to silence him. “Go. I’ll take her home and watch her and will come back to close up after your shift.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She gave him a crooked smile, then waved him away. “Now, go. Go protect your town.”

The warmth on her sweet face and in her aqua-colored eyes—and the fact that she was saving his hide at the moment—pierced through his protective gear and right to his heart. A part of his heart that had been cold and dead for a long time.

He locked away the feeling. No time to analyze it, anyway. He had a prowler to catch.

Chapter Three

At nine o’clock that night, Faith sent Chelsea to get ready for bed. But by nine-thirty, she decided to go check on her. She just couldn’t imagine the girl having to put herself to bed, even at age twelve.

Chelsea sat on her bed with wet hair, wearing her pj’s, with a book in her lap. The stuffed animals and dolls that had most likely graced her bed sometime in the past sat abandoned on a rocking chair in the corner. Somehow, the pink-dotted swiss bedspread and curtains didn’t seem to fit, not with the posters of the latest teen heartthrob on the walls.