The Christmas Child

“He found no physical reason for Davey not to speak, though he did recommend a specialist.” Kade poured two cups and held up the sugar bowl. Sophie shook her head. Figured. She was sweet enough. Kade loaded his with three spoons and stirred them in. “We’ll have to leave that to social services.”

Sophie grimaced. He got that. Social services did what they could, but who really cared about one little boy?

“Then there must be something mental or emotional, and he doesn’t appear mentally handicapped.” She accepted the offered cup, sipped with her eyes closed. Kade, a detail man courtesy of his career, tried not to notice the thick curl of mink lashes against pearl skin. “Mmm. Perfect. Thanks.”

“Which leaves us with one ugly conclusion.” He took a hot gulp and felt the burn before the liquid ever hit his belly. The more he thought about what could have happened to Davey, the more his gut hurt. “Trauma.”

“I wondered about that, but was hoping …” Her voice trailed off. She picked at the handle of her cup.

“Yeah, me, too.”

Sophie’s fingers went to her lips, flat now with concern for the little boy. She painted her fingernails. Bright Christmas red with tiny silver snowflakes. How did a woman do that?

“You think something happened that upset him so much he stopped talking?”

Jaw tight, Kade nodded. “So does the doc.”

And if it took him the rest of his life, somebody somewhere was gonna pay.

Sophie studied the trim, fit man leaning against Ida June’s mustard-colored wall. In long-sleeved Henley shirt and blue jeans, dark brown hair combed messily to one side, he could be any ordinary man, but she suspected he wasn’t. Kade McKendrick was cool to the point of chill with a hard glint to wary eyes that missed nothing. He was tough. Defensive. Dangerous.

Yet, he’d responded to Davey’s need with concern, and he had a wry wit beneath the cynical twist of that tight mouth. He didn’t smile much but he knew how. Or he once had. Her woman’s intuition said he’d been through some trauma himself. Her woman’s heart wanted to bake him cookies and fix him.

A little troubled at the direction of her thoughts, she raised her coffee mug, a shield to hide behind. She didn’t even know this guy.

“What could be so terrible that a child would stop speaking?” she asked. “I can’t imagine.”

Something flickered in the stolid expression, a twitch of muscle, the narrowing of coffee-colored eyes in a hard face.

“I plan to find out.”

“I heard you were a cop.”

“Listening to gossip?”

She smiled. “Not all of it.”

The admission caught him by surprise. He lightened, just a little, but enough for her to see his humor. She didn’t know why that pleased her, but it did. Kade needed to lighten up and smile a little.

“I am.” He went to the sink and dumped the remaining coffee, rinsed the cup and left it in the sink. “A cop, that is. Special units.”

“You don’t want to hear about the other rumors?”

He made a huffing noise. “Maybe later. You don’t want to hear about the special units?”

“Maybe later.” She smiled again, hoping he’d smile, too. He didn’t. “The important thing is Davey. Your police experience should help us find his family.”

“Us?”

“Well …” She wasn’t a person to start something and not follow through. She’d been there when Davey was found and she didn’t intend to walk away and leave him with all these unanswered questions. “I know the community really well. People trust me. They’ll talk to me. I don’t know the first thing about investigating a missing boy.” She stopped, frowned. Davey wasn’t missing exactly. “Or rather, a found boy, but I know how to deal with people.”

Kade raised a palm. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s early yet. Someone may come home from work tonight, find their son gone and call in. Problem solved.”

“Do you think they will?” she asked hopefully.

“To be honest?” He dropped his arms to his sides, shot a look toward the living room. “No.”

Something in the sudden clip of his voice chilled Sophie’s bones. She frowned and leaned forward, propping her arms on the metal dinette. Ida June must have had this thing since the 1950s. “Have you worked in Missing Children before?”

She was almost certain he flinched, but if he did, he covered the emotion quickly.

“In a manner of speaking.”

Sophie waited for an explanation, but when none was forthcoming, she asked, “Do you have any ideas? Any thoughts about where he came from or what happened?”

“A few.” He crossed his arms again. She recognized the subconscious barrier he raised between them. What had happened to this man to make him so aloof? For a people person, he was a challenge. For a Christian, he was someone to pray for. For a single woman, he was dangerously attractive. What woman wouldn’t want to delve behind those dark, mysterious eyes and into that cool heart to fix whatever ailed him?

“Care to share?” she asked.

He cocked his head, listening. “Davey’s awake.”

Sophie hadn’t heard a sound, but she pushed away from the table and hurried past Kade to the sofa and the little boy who’d had her prayers all day. Behind her, a more troubling and troubled presence followed. She was in the company of two mysterious males and they both intrigued her.

“Hi, Davey.” She sat on the edge of the couch, the warmth of Davey’s sleep-drenched body pleasant against her leg. Kade’s big dog, a golden retriever, slid off the sofa and padded to her master. He dropped a hand to her wide skull and stood like a dark slab of granite watching as Davey looked around in that puzzled “Where am I?” manner of someone waking in a strange place.

“Remember me? I’m Sophie. My students call me Miss B.”

The towheaded child blinked stubby lashes and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He sat up, the blanket falling to his waist.

Sophie grinned up at Kade. “Your shirt?”

A wry twist to one side of his mouth, Kade nodded. “My sweats, too. His clothes are in the dryer.”

Davey pushed the cover away and stood. The oversize black pants puddled around his feet. Sophie laughed. “I need a camera.”

Davey looked down, and then, too serious, glanced from Sophie to Kade and back again, eyes wide and uncertain.

“Guess what? We have some great new clothes for you. You want to look through the bag and find something you like?” She dragged the bag from the chair with a plastic thud against green shag carpet and pulled open the yellow tie. “There’s a very cool sweatshirt in here. And wait till you see this awesome jacket with a hood and secret zip-up pockets.”

She was rewarded when Davey realized her mission and went to his knees next to the bag. Sophie held up a T-shirt. “What do you think?”

He nodded eagerly, then plunged his hands into the sack and removed a pair of cowboy boots. His whole body reacted. He hopped up, stumbled on his long pants and would have gone down if Kade, swift as a cat, hadn’t caught him. “Easy, pard.”

“I think he likes his new duds.”

Davey held the boots up for Kade’s inspection. Sophie watched with interest as the man pretended to consider before nodding his head. “Shoulda been a cowboy myself.”

Davey’s face broke into a wide smile. He plopped onto the floor and shoved at the too-long pants to find his feet. Sophie’s smile widened. “Here, Davey. I think you could use some help.”

Kade moved into action. “Why don’t we find some jeans first and then try the boots?”

But Davey was already shoving his small feet into the brown-and-white-stitched footwear. His foot went in with an easy whoosh of skin against leather. Thrilled, smile wide enough to crack his cheeks, he leaned in to hug her from the side. Sophie’s heart pinched. The boots were obviously too big, but Davey behaved as though she’d given him the best Christmas present of his life.

He levered himself up with her shoulder and attempted to clomp around, still grinning. The sweats puddled on the floor and tripped him up again. Kade reached out to steady him, expression inscrutable. “Grab him some jeans. I’ll help him change.”

Sophie did as he asked, touched when Kade hoisted Davey under one arm and carted him, boots, jeans and all, sweats flopping in the empty space beneath Davey’s feet, to another room. Sheba padded softly behind, her nose inches from Kade.

Minutes later Sophie heard a clomp, clomp as the trio returned, Davey dressed in clean jeans, a Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt and the too-big boots. Kade had dampened the child’s pale hair and brushed away the bedhead.

“Well, don’t you look handsome?”

Davey beamed and clomped to her. Sheba followed, her nose poked beneath his hand as though expecting him to fall at any moment and prepared to catch him.

“I think the clothes are a hit,” Kade said.

“The boots are for certain.” Sophie dipped in the bag. “Davey, we might as well go through these and see what else you like. You can keep anything that fits.”

As they rummaged through the hand-me-downs, Sophie was a little too aware of Kade kneeling beside her, his taut arm brushing hers as they pulled clothes from the sack. There was a stealthy danger about him, a rigid control she assumed came from his work in law enforcement. Special units, he’d said. Now she wondered what he’d meant.

She was holding a blue dress shirt under Davey’s chin, his little arms spread wide to test the sleeve length, when they heard a car in the drive.

“Ida June?” she asked.

A minute later, the doorbell chimed. “Apparently not.”

Kade shoved to his feet and went to answer. Sophie heard voices but thought nothing of them until Kade returned, trailed by a man in a business suit. Sophie’s pleasure seeped away.

“Hello, Howard.” She knew the social worker from school and the times he’d come to interview teachers about a child’s well-being. Good at his job, professional and thorough, she’d always been glad to have him in a child’s corner. Until today.

“Sophie, how are you?”

“Great.” She’d been better. “Is everything okay? Davey’s doing fine here, as you can see. We’re sorting through some clothes my students donated.”

“Nice of you to take an interest. Tell your students thanks. We appreciate all you’ve done. Both of you.”

“No problem. Davey’s a good boy.”

“The Cunninghams will be glad to hear that.”

Dread pulled at Sophie’s belly. “The Cunninghams?”

“The foster family. We got lucky. They can take him today.”

Sophie made a small sound of distress. “He’s doing fine here, Howard. Why not leave him with Kade and Ida June?”

“Neither has foster-parenting credentials or clearances. The Cunninghams are paper-ready.”

“You’ve known Ida June forever and Kade is in law enforcement.”

“The system doesn’t work that way. Sorry. The Cunninghams are a good family with experience with special-needs children. He’ll do well with them.” Howard hitched the crease of his navy slacks and went to one knee in front of Davey. “My name is Mr. Prichard, Davey. You’ll be coming with me today. There’s a family waiting to meet you. You’re going to like it at their house.”

Davey frowned, bewildered gaze moving from Howard to Sophie and Kade.

“Howard,” Sophie said, beseeching.

“I have a job to do, Sophie. Our department comes under enough fire as it is. We have to follow procedures.” The social worker rose, matter-of-fact. “If you’d gather his belongings, he can take them along.”

“This is all he has.” The plastic bag crinkled as she pushed at it. A few hand-me-down clothes and an oversize pair of boots.

“More than most have, sad to say. Come along, Davey.” The man grasped Davey’s hand and started for the door. Davey jerked away and ran to Kade, throwing his arms around the familiar man’s legs. Sheba whined and pushed against Davey’s back. He fell against her neck and clung.

“Let him stay.” Kade’s voice was hard as granite.

Howard ignored the request. “Come now, Davey.” When the boy didn’t obey, the social worker scooped Davey into his arms and headed to the car. Davey squirmed but didn’t make a sound. The silence was more terrible than any amount of crying.

Sophie followed, fighting tears, her throat clogged with emotion. She pushed Davey’s beloved book into his hands. “It’s okay, Davey. I know the Cunningham family. They’re nice people. I’ll call you. I’ll come over and see you. We’ll find your family. I promise. I promise. Don’t be afraid.”

Tense fingers caught her arm. Kade, face as hard as ice, said, “Don’t make promises.”

Sophie stopped in the driveway next to the black Taurus and forced an encouraging smile as the social worker buckled the little lost boy into the backseat. Beside her, Kade said nothing, but anger seethed from him, hot against the evening chill. She lifted her hand, waved and held on to the fake smile while the car backed into the street and pulled away.

A cold wind swirled around her, lifted her hair, scattered scratchy brown leaves across the pavement. The dark sedan turned the corner, out of sight now.

Sophie lowered her hand and stood dejected in the bleak afternoon. What a sad way to spend Christmas.

Be with him, Jesus.

Even though her prayer was heartfelt, Sophie knew little comfort. The sight of Davey’s tormented face pressed against the window glass with silent tears streaming would stay with her forever.

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