“Think back, Maggie. What was it about Ben that first made you love him?”

  She didn’t like the question. At this point in her life and treatment, she was finally getting over Ben, feeling strong enough to stand up to him, preparing for the day when she would face him with the truth and hand him the divorce papers. This was no time to muddle her emotions with a trip back to where and when and why she first loved her husband. She crossed her arms in front of her and clenched her jaw. “I think we’re past that, doctor.”

  “Perhaps. But humor me, will you? What was it? Come on, Maggie, think.”

  “Oh, okay.” She cast her gaze upward and studied the pattern of tiles on the ceiling. This was pointless, but…well, he was the doctor. She thought back to the picnic, to the way so many of her friends had been there that day. “He was different.”

  “What do you mean? Go deeper, Maggie.”

  She squirmed in her seat. “He knew what he wanted in life. When he talked about his faith it was like…a real thing, a real relationship. Stronger than mine, even; stronger than my parents’. And they’d been Christians all their lives.”

  Dr. Camas nodded slowly. “But he said he wouldn’t marry a girl unless she was a virgin, is that right?”

  Wasn’t it? Hadn’t he said it that way? Maggie thought hard…

  She could feel the humid, night air on her skin, hear the worship band playing in the background. And suddenly it was as though Ben were sitting beside her again, the way he had been that night on the grass at the picnic. She closed her eyes and she could almost hear his voice…

  She shook her head. “I don’t think he mentioned it that night, honestly. He said he knew God had a plan for his life and he…he wanted to obey so the plan would happen one day. Something like that.”

  “Okay, so sometime in the next few weeks, then. He must have told you he wouldn’t many a girl who wasn’t a virgin, right? Think back, Maggie.”

  She sighed and her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. He had said that several times. At least, that’s how she’d always remembered it. She shut her eyes again, squeezing out several tears that fell onto her cheeks. “He…we didn’t see each other that much, but we talked on the phone…”

  Memories flooded her mind. Ben sharing his heart with her, and she with him. Snapshots of laughter and innocence and promises that lay ahead. But none of the memories was the one she’d hung onto these past years. Her eyes flew open as frustration swept her. “I can’t remember. Can we be done with this?”

  Dr. Camas remained still, his eyes connected with hers. “I think you remember more than you’re willing to admit. Try harder, Maggie. Let’s lay it out so we can take it apart and figure out where the hate comes from.”

  A gnawing feeling ate at Maggie’s gut, and she wondered if she’d be sick again before this session was finished. She did hate Ben, she had every right. But until she finished this…this game or whatever it was, she couldn’t move on. Gritting her teeth, she thought back once more—and this time she could hear her voice.

  “How come you always talk about God’s plans for your life, Ben? How do you know He has plans for you?” She’d been playing with him, baiting him to see what he was really made of.

  “It’s true, Maggie. The Bible says so right in Jeremiah and probably a dozen other places, too. That’s why I’ve never wanted to get too serious with anyone.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Maggie could hear her response as clearly as if she had tape-recorded the conversation years ago and now had the opportunity to play it back over loud speakers.

  She remembered the words…heard them again…and froze.

  No…no! That’s not how it was. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart and mind went blank…and cold. “I’m finished, Dr. Camas.” She rose, wringing her hands and biting fiercely on her lower lip. “I need some air.”

  Before Dr. Camas could speak, Maggie rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, certain that if she’d stayed in the office another moment she would have suffocated and died.

  Twenty-seven

  ALFIE AND MIKE WERE IN A PANEL VAN LOOKING VERY MUCH LIKE repairmen resting between calls. It was the perfect cover. Earlier, Mike had gone into the office asking for Kathy Garrett, just like the boss wanted. When the clerk returned with a gentle-looking woman in her forties, Mike stood and approached her. “My name’s Harry Bedford. We have a four o’clock appointment.”

  The Garrett woman had looked at him strangely “Bedford? There’s nothing on my calendar about it. Are you sure you made it with me?”

  Mike forced a grimace. “I thought so. Wife and I are interested in adopting a child from the inner city. That’s your specialty, right?”

  A knowing look filled the woman’s face. “No, I handle foster children. I think you’re probably looking for the downtown office.” She scribbled something on a slip of paper. “Do you know that area?”

  Mike took the piece of paper and began backing away “Like the back of my hand. Thanks a lot.”

  Now he was sitting in the parking lot with Alfie, frustrated that the job was taking longer than he thought. They had business to do back at the warehouse and women lined up for later that night.

  “I’m hungry.” Alfie had finished off a bag of chips and two sodas.

  “You’re always hun—”

  “Hey,” Alfie cut him off. “Is that her?” He nodded toward a woman leaving the building. She was alone and headed for a blue sedan.

  “Bingo.” Mike started the engine. Good. We’ll follow her home, get the news to the boss, and be home in time for the party.

  In the seat next to him, Alfie picked up the cell phone and tapped in a series of numbers. There was a pause. “Boss, we got her.” Alfie gazed through the windshield at the woman as she climbed into the sedan. “Yep. She’s getting in her car right now. We’ll let you know where she lives as soon as we get there.”

  Kathy Garrett made her way home more quickly than usual. So much had happened, she could hardly wait to tell Amanda. God, You are faithful beyond anything, beyond anyone.

  The fact that she had just located Amanda’s mother by means of a man who stopped in her office on a whim was nothing less than an answer to the child’s prayer. Kathy was sure of it. She pulled into her driveway minutes later and bounded lightly up the steps. “Kids, I’m home.”

  A chorus of voices greeted her from various parts of the house. The older children were always so good with the younger ones, and Amanda was no exception. She was probably caught up in a checkers match with Jenika, their oldest.

  Kathy hung up her coat and unwrapped her scarf. It wasn’t quite Thanksgiving and already it felt cold enough to snow, but no chill could dispel the warmth that radiated through Kathy at that moment. She made her way into the den and found the girls. For the first time her heart ached at the news she was about to share…it might mean saying good-bye to Amanda for good. She swallowed a lump in her throat and smiled at the child, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jenika. “You girls have a good day at school?”

  “I need help with my math.” Jenika made the announcement and then looked up and grinned. “Other than that it was great.”

  “Betsy didn’t sit by me today because she said she’s going to Elle’s sleepover on Friday and I can’t come.” Amanda’s eyes looked sad.

  “Did you work it out?” Kathy was impatient to get past the small talk. None of it’s going to matter in a minute, Amanda. Your prayers have been answered! I’ve found your mommy!

  Amanda shrugged and the corners of her lips turned slightly upward. “We played together at second recess, so I guess so.”

  “That’s good.” She paused. Give me the right words, Lord. Please…What she was about to tell Amanda would change her life forever. The smallest part of her wanted to wait and keep Amanda to herself a little longer. But that wouldn’t have been fair. Besides, Amanda had been waiting too long already. “Amanda, may I talk to you for a minute?”

  Jenika
was five years older, but Amanda was far more intuitive in matters dealing with Social Services. Her eyes fell and she cast a knowing look at Jenika. Kathy understood the exchange. Whenever she came home from work and needed to talk to Amanda it usually meant one thing: They’d found a foster home for her. And it was painfully obvious that Amanda hated the thought of ever leaving the Garrett home.

  But this was different. So different Kathy could hardly wait to talk to the child. She took Amanda’s hand, helping her to her feet. “Come on, honey. It’s good news. Really.”

  The two moved into the dining room and sat side by side at the kitchen table, their chairs angled slightly so that they could see each other. “I met someone very interesting today.”

  Concern creased the corners of Amanda’s eyes and she reached instinctively for Kathy’s fingers. The child’s gaze fell and she seemed to study the way her hand fit in Kathy’s. After a moment a small tear splashed on her pant leg and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible. “I don’t wanna leave.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I know.” Kathy stared sadly at the child. If only Maggie Stovall had kept Amanda from the beginning. And if Kathy had listened to her heart all those years—

  “Can’t I stay with you, Kathy, please?” Amanda’s eyes begged through a pool of tears as she reached out and placed her other hand in Kathy’s, so that they both nestled in Kathy’s palms.

  “Come here, honey.” Kathy felt tears in her own eyes as she pulled the child into her arms, stroking her hair and whispering, “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Amanda paused, then pulled back, studying Kathy’s eyes. “It’s true then? You found me a foster home?”

  A single tear spilled onto Kathy’s face, and she wiped it quickly with the back of her hand. “Well, actually…” She forced herself to sound upbeat. “Actually, it’s good news.”

  “Good news?” Again Amanda tilted her head. She was such a darling girl, peachy skin with only the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and long hair that looked spun by the hands of angels. For all that Amanda had gone through, something innocent still sparkled in her eyes, and the effect only made her more beautiful.

  Looking at her now, it was hard to believe that scant weeks ago she was in the hospital fighting for her life. Kathy let out a single, soft chuckle at the lovely picture Amanda made.

  All right, here goes, sweetheart. “Yes, good news. A man came into the office today very interested in you. He said he thinks he and his wife would like to be your foster parents and…” Kathy tried to read Amanda’s reaction, and since she saw nothing that resembled excitement, she gently took the girl’s shoulders in her hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “And one day they might even want to adopt you. Forever, Amanda.”

  Panic worked its way across Amanda’s face. “B-b-b…” She exhaled in a huff. “B-b-but…” Amanda crossed her arms, and focused her attention on her feet. “Kathy, I c-c-can’t make my words right.”

  Kathy’s heart melted. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. Lots of people have trouble making words when they’re upset. Just take your time.” She ran a hand down the back of Amanda’s head.

  When Amanda’s eyes lifted they were filled with tears. “I d-d-don’t even know him…”

  Kathy swallowed back a lump in her throat. Poor little darling, Lord. Help me say the right thing. “Honey, I know that. But he’s a very nice man. He said you were exactly the type of child he and his wife were looking for.” Kathy hated keeping the facts from her, but Ben Stovall had asked that she do so. Besides, Kathy wasn’t at all sure it would be wise to tell Amanda she’d been found by her birth mother. Not when the woman was in a psychiatric hospital being treated for depression, unaware that her husband had even located the child.

  Momentary worry washed over Kathy. What if Maggie Stovall refused contact with Amanda, let alone a foster or adoption arrangement? That would be too great a heartbreak for Amanda to take. It was better to keep the details simple, at least for now.

  “W-w-why would he w-w-want an old girl like me? Most p-p-people want little kids…b-b-babies.”

  Kathy felt the girl’s shoulders trembling and she moved her hands slowly down the thin arms to take hold of Amanda’s small fingers again. “That’s true.” She lowered herself so that she could see directly into Amanda’s eyes. “But this man is different. He said they were looking for a girl like you. They don’t want a baby who cries all night or a toddler who hasn’t learned to read. They want a girl just exactly like you, Amanda.”

  She shook her head and fresh tears filled her eyes. “I don’t wanna go, Kathy. P-p-please. Don’t m-m-make me.”

  “Baby, we’ve been through this before. The state won’t let me keep you. Not unless there’s no foster homes available.”

  “Yeah, but I…l-l-love you guys. I don’t wanna leave.”

  “Oh, Amanda…” Kathy pulled the girl to her and held her close. The enthusiasm she’d felt earlier was all but gone. How am I ever going to let her go, Lord? She doesn’t even know these people. They could be awful for all any of us know. How can I—

  Trust Me, daughter.

  But…

  Trust Me.

  There it was again, the soothing reassurance Kathy knew came from the Lord. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself not to get caught up in her selfish feelings. If God had brought Amanda’s mother back into her life there had to be a reason. Besides, Amanda was pretty well out of options in the Social Services system.

  Kathy just needed to do all she could to help make the transition as smooth as possible. Amanda remained nestled in her arms, her head against Kathy’s chest. What was she thinking? How does it feel to know your life could change at any moment, that you have no control over where you might be sleeping on any given night? Help her, God. Please shut the door on this if it isn’t from You. And give me wisdom to know what’s best for Amanda.

  The girl pulled back and studied Kathy’s eyes nervously. “Am I going with him tonight?”

  Kathy smiled. “No, silly. Of course not. You need to meet him first.”

  Another look of terror flashed in Amanda’s eyes. “By m-m-myself?”

  “No, sweetie, I’ll be with you.” Kathy reached out and smoothed her hand over Amanda’s hair. “How ‘bout we all meet at Party Pizza tomorrow for lunch?”

  The fear was gone for the moment, but in its place was resignation. Amanda had been this route before; she knew the protocol. “So I leave tomorrow night?”

  Kathy shook her head. “The man’s wife is in the hospital right now. We’ll have to see what happens, but I think it could take a few days to get everything lined up.” She hesitated. “Are we on then? For tomorrow, I mean?”

  “Okay.” The girl’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Kathy was struck again by how tender yet tough this child was. Tender to all that was good and right with God and the world, yet tough enough not to break down sobbing when her very existence was being turned upside down.

  Kathy hugged her close. “I wish you could stay. You know that, right?”

  Then Amanda did something she’d never done before. She reached out a single finger and softly traced a heart on the back of Kathy’s hand. “Know what that means?”

  Kathy fought back tears. “No, honey what?”

  “It means that even if I go, you’ll always have my heart.”

  Amanda tried to sleep, but it was hard. She wasn’t sure what to feel. Kathy had said the man’s name was Mr. Stovall and that he was good and kind and that he and his wife were probably an answer to prayer. Amanda turned onto her side and tried to keep her eyes shut. It was possible, wasn’t it? That God had heard her prayers for a forever family and brought the Stovalls as an answer?

  But why hadn’t God given Kathy a bigger house instead? That would have been the best answer.

  She didn’t want to meet this man tomorrow. Because if things went well, she’d be leaving Kathy’s house very, very soon. She blinked and stared about
the shadowy room. What if Mr. Stovall really was a nice man? The kind of friendly-looking man that Amanda had seen on television shows. Maybe he went off to work in the morning and came home at night, and he’d play with his kids—with her—on the living room floor like Mr. Garrett. Maybe he and his wife were sent by God to take her home and love her forever.

  Amanda closed her eyes again. Of course she’d thought that about Mrs. Graystone, too.

  No, there could only ever be one, true answer to prayer where her life was concerned. If God wasn’t going to give Kathy a bigger home so Amanda could stay with her, there was only one person who would qualify as an answer to prayer. And it wasn’t Mr. Stovall.

  It was her mother. Her real mother. The one who somewhere, somehow must still remember the baby she gave away. The one who surely one day would do whatever it took to find her.

  Twenty-eight

  JUDGE CALEB “HUTCH” HUTCHISON HATED EMERGENCY HEARINGS and he rarely granted them. Especially first thing in the morning. But that brisk November day a week before Thanksgiving, he had examined the circumstances and decided there was no other choice.

  The situation seemed on its surface an open and shut case. Long-lost father shows up to claim a child caught in the Social Services system. Judge Hutch’s job was merely to make sure the facts matched up and send the father and daughter on their way. Still, something about the man and the little girl he claimed to want for his own troubled Hutch. Deeply.

  Alone in his chambers, five minutes before the meeting was to take place, the judge reviewed the situation for the fifth time. One John McFadden waltzes into the courthouse, fills out an emergency request form saying he only recently learned he had a child in Cincinnati, and then produces enough information to convince the clerk he’s the real father. The child is a girl named Amanda Joy Brownell, a ward of the Social Services system who’s been wasting away in a series of foster homes for the past three years.

  Judge Hutchison had worked as a jurist in that same courthouse for more than twenty years. He knew his peers considered him both brilliant and tough—a judge criminals feared, whose sentences brought a sense of justice to the people of Cincinnati and the surrounding area. But criminals weren’t the only group Hutch detested. There was one other group of citizens he was loathe to waste time on: deadbeat dads.