Page 11 of A Hope Undaunted


  Thoughts of Katie O’Connor as a pigtailed brat came to Luke’s mind, and he attempted a smile that hurt. “A lot, apparently. Only this time it involves stolen money.”

  “What?” Parker tossed his pen on the desk in frustration.

  “Yep. Mrs. Merkle complained to Harris Stowe who complained to Carmichael, who complained to me, not ten minutes ago. Claims Gabe stole money from Mrs. Merkle’s cookie jar and took a hike. They’ve been looking for her all day with no luck. Carmichael wants me to go smooth things over with Mrs. Merkle and then hunt down the little thief.”

  Parker pinched the bridge of his nose, looking as if he had suddenly developed a headache of his own. “What are we going to do with her, Luke? The kid’s a full-time job.” He glanced up, peering between his fingers. “Was Carmichael mad?”

  Luke’s smile was more of a scowl. “Uh, slightly. Says the next time she pulls a stunt like this, she’s on the next train to Podunk.” His lips pulled into a dry smile. “Along with me.” He sighed and rose to his feet. “Blast it, Parker, why can’t families be happily ever after?”

  Parker stood, slipped his coat off his chair, and put it on. “I don’t know, Luke, but if they were, we’d be out of a job. Which, come to think of it, would be a pretty good thing. I’d probably be a priest in some cushy confessional, and you’d be only who knows what.”

  Luke exhaled. “Yeah. You got any aspirin? I feel a killer headache coming on.”

  Parker bent and pulled a bottle from his drawer. He handed it to Luke, then glanced at his watch. “Gotta go. Carmichael’s expecting me at four-thirty. I hate these late meetings – I think he does it just to get on our nerves. I guess he knows you’re not coming?”

  “Yeah, he knows.” Luke emptied two pills in his hand and shot them to the back of his throat. He swallowed like it was candy. “I have a couple of headaches I gotta deal with. First the one in my skull, then the one on the streets.”

  Parker grimaced. “How do you do that without water, anyway?”

  Luke tossed the bottle on the desk and headed for the door. “Practice, Parker,” he said with a pained smile over his shoulder. “Compliments of a little girl who thinks she’s tougher than me.” He opened the door and strode into the main office area with Parker close behind. Betty jumped up to follow, notebook in hand.

  Luke stopped dead in his tracks, peering at Betty. “Where are you going?”

  She blinked. “To the board meeting upstairs. Carmichael wants me to take notes.”

  “But I need her here, Parker, in case Gabe shows up. It’s just a preliminary meeting, right, so we don’t embarrass him in the real thing next week? Why does he need Betty?”

  Parker moved on past, beating Luke to the door. “Because he likes to look at her legs, McGee, and we both know it.” He looked over his shoulder, hand on the knob and brow cocked high. “You gonna be the one to tell the senior partner and supervisor no?”

  Luke mumbled under his breath and glanced at Bobbie Sue with hope in his eyes.

  “Oh-oh, Boss, don’t look at me.” She reached for her purse in the lowest drawer and then lumbered to her feet, slamming it closed again with the toe of her shoe. “I’m already late, and there’s no tellin’ what shape that poor ol’ house of mine’ll be in.” She tucked her purse under her arm and sidled past Luke with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but my darlin’s are bakin’ me a cake tonight, and I sure ain’t lookin’ to have my kitchen burn down. See y’all Monday, ya hear?”

  “Make ’em do the dishes,” Parker called, watching Bobbie Sue hurry down the hall.

  With a faint smile on her lips, Betty gracefully scooted around Luke, allowing a sympathetic pat on his shoulder as she passed. “Don’t worry, Luke. Katie will be here till five, and then I’ll be back as soon as the meeting ends, okay?”

  “I can stay till Betty returns,” Katie offered from the back of the office.

  Relief eased the stress in Luke’s face. He turned to give Katie a near-painless grin. “Bless you, Katie, you’re an angel. You sure you don’t mind?”

  Katie’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Goodness, that may well be the first time I’ve ever been called that, but yes, I can stay as late as you like. Due to my father’s warped sense of discipline, I have no other plans this weekend, if you recall.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. If these two are still in the meeting, then I should be back no later than six. And if a bossy, obnoxious runaway shows up and tries to push you around, hogtie her in a chair and gag her if you have to, but don’t let her go, okay?” Katie slanted a sheet of paper into her typewriter and gave the platen a spin. “You bet. Thanks to you, I have a wealth of experience in dealing with both bossy and obnoxious, not to mention enough adoption forms to keep me busy until the middle of next week . . . sir.”

  A second grin surfaced on Luke’s lips in spite of the nagging headache. “Glad I could be of service, Miss O’Connor. Her name is Gabriella Dawn Smith, but she goes by Gabe – don’t let her buffalo you.” He turned and pinched Betty on the cheek with a wink, then followed them both out the door. He gave Betty a hard stare. “And you – don’t sit on Carmichael’s side of the table, you hear?”

  Katie smiled and released a pent-up breath as soon as she heard the door click. She spun her chair around to peek out the window, scooting back a smidge when Luke appeared on the street below. The heat of the day obviously was taking its toll despite his best intentions, because she saw him shed the jacket and sling it over his shoulder before rolling up his sleeves. He rounded the corner, and Katie slouched back in her chair with a frown. He really was a decent sort, she supposed, but it galled her all the same. It just wasn’t fair that such a little weasel had become such an annoyingly handsome man.

  With an abrupt shove against the windowsill, she spun around and adjusted the form in her typewriter before opening the first file at her side. She squinted to make out the scrawl of Luke’s notes, then poised her fingers over the keys, suddenly seeing his face in her mind’s eye. She took a deep breath. She could handle this. It was just a bothersome complication and nothing more. One that required a little more finesse on her part, to be sure, but not impossible. She would simply keep her distance and rein in these irksome feelings at the same time. She sharpened her focus and began to type, forcing her mind to dwell only on the facts she needed to record.

  An hour later, she was halfway through the stack and totally absorbed when she heard a quiet squeak at the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of navy blue shoot into Luke’s office. Katie caught her breath and slowly rose to make her way to his door, careful to close it again after she stepped inside. She scanned the crowded office, past the antiquated file cabinets hugging the wall and over to the other side of the room where a coat rack loomed, bedecked by some battered-looking boxing gloves. Next to it stood a table stacked high with boxes above and below, some filled with files, others bulging with footballs, basketballs, baseballs, gloves, and bats. Her gaze returned to the large oak desk in front of the windows, its heavy wooden base the perfect place for an orphan to hide. Katie strolled over to Luke’s chair and settled in, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She fought a smile and peered under the desk, suddenly eye-to-eye with a grimy ragamuffin all balled up in a frown.

  Katie arched a brow. “Excuse me, but do you have an appointment?”

  The frown deepened into a scowl. “Ain’t you got nothin’ better to do than spy?”

  Katie pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. “Nope, it’s what I get paid to do.” Her mouth crooked up. “That is, if I get paid.”

  “I ain’t comin’ out,” the ragamuffin threatened, eyes squinted even harder than Katie’s.

  “Suit yourself,” Katie said with nonchalance. She rose and strode out the door, returning a few moments later with a half-eaten platter of Bobbie Sue’s birthday cookies and two coffee cups. She set everything on the desk and selected a nice, fat cookie. With a contented sigh, she leaned back and took a bite, closing her eyes while emit
ting a soft moan. “Sweet saints in heaven . . . if I say so myself, these are some of the best I’ve ever made. Just the right touch of vanilla, you know? And chocolate-fudge icing that literally melts on your tongue.” She popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and sucked the chocolate off her finger.

  “You tryin’ to bribe me, lady?” The tone was hard and brittle, unlike Katie’s cookies, which were soft and moist.

  With a satisfying swipe of her tongue, Katie licked a touch of frosting from her lips. “Nope, I can see you’re quite comfortable under that desk, knees bunched to your chin.”

  Dark, almond-shaped eyes glared back, half lidded and glinting with ire.

  Katie casually reached into the bottom drawer of Luke’s desk and pulled out one of the Nehis he kept in his stash, along with a bottle opener. She popped the lid off, took a long swig, and then wiped her mouth with the side of her hand. “Ah . . . now that hits the spot on a hot day.”

  Long pause. “Is that grape?”

  “Uh-huh. My favorite.”

  Longer pause. “Luke’s too.”

  Katie cocked her head. “Really? I thought he liked orange.” She took another drink.

  “Sometimes, but mostly grape. Like me.”

  Katie’s brows inched up in surprise. “No kidding, you too? Grape Nehi has been my favorite since I was knee-high to the nuns, no pun intended. I used to close my eyes and pray that the water fountain at school would be grape Nehi.” Katie frowned. “Regrettably, it never was.” She put the bottle to her lips, ready for another glug.

  “You gonna drink that whole blasted bottle?”

  Katie hesitated, the bottle propped against her lower lip. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

  A thick crop of freckles bunched up in a scowl. “Well, are ya?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Whether you want to join me, sitting in a chair like a human being.”

  The brown eyes squinted again. “Is this a trick?”

  Katie sat back in the chair and put a hand to her chest, eyebrows dipped in obvious offense. She flattened her lips to ward off a smile. “No, I’d rather be typing forms like I’ve been doing for the last eight hours, how ’bout you?”

  Seconds passed before the ball of limbs and freckles began to move, disentangling beneath the desk in calculated and cautious movement. Katie scooted back and stood while a slip of a little girl unfolded to barely three foot high, revealing spindly legs skinned and scarred. She couldn’t be more than five years old, and her patched navy blue jumper was wrinkled and bunched. Katie’s heart squeezed at the tightlipped look of suspicion on her sweet little face, a face that sported traces of soot and more freckles than the law allowed. Tresses of dark brown hair framed her heart-shaped face, both of which were badly in need of a wash.

  The little tyke eyed Katie up and down. “You ain’t very tall.”

  Katie squared her shoulders and stood up straight, thinking this was one tough, little orphan for only five years old. She folded her arms, going for intimidation. “I’m taller than you.”

  The half-pint strolled to the side and studied her, folding her arms like a junior version of Katie. “Not by much. Who the devil are you, anyway?”

  “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

  “I can talk any way I want – you ain’t my mama. And it’s a good thing too, ’cause if you was, I’d be punier than I am.”

  Katie snatched the plate of cookies from the desk with a lift of her chin. She draped her hand over the back of Luke’s chair. “I may not be your mama, young lady, but I am the one holding the cookies, so I suggest you set your little carcass in this chair and watch your tongue.”

  “You’re mean!” the little brat said, lips ground tight.

  “So are you,” Katie replied, taking a bite of a cookie. “So what’s it going to be?” She chewed and the little brat glared, but the moment Katie tipped another swig of Nehi, the battle was won. The ragamuffin plopped in the chair with her nastiest look yet. Katie held out the plate with a smug smile. “Mark my words, Gabriella Smith, these are the best cookies you’ll ever eat.”

  Gabe grunted and filched a big one. “Shore better be, for all the trouble they cost. How’d you know my name, anyway? From Luke?”

  “Yep.” Katie bent to pull a new Nehi out of Luke’s drawer. Her teeth scraped her bottom lip. “Uh-oh, the last grape.” A devious smile sprouted on her lips. “Somebody won’t be happy.”

  Gabe smiled for the very first time. “Luke ain’t never happy, least when it comes to me. He thinks I’m a bother.”

  Katie popped the lid off with the opener. “Well, aren’t you?” She poured half of it in a cup and handed it to Gabe with a lift of her brow before taking another sip of her own.

  Gabe grabbed it and guzzled, a full-fledged grin on her face as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Yep. Only way I can get him to notice me. We’re gonna get married.”

  Grape Nehi spewed from Katie’s mouth, spraying Gabe with a fine mist of pop.

  “Lucifer’s nightgown!” Gabe croaked, jumping out of the chair. “You just spit all over me.”

  Katie gaped and snatched the cookie from Gabe’s hand. “I don’t think I want my cookies going into a trash heap like your mouth, young lady. Apologize!”

  Gabe gummed her lips in defiance.

  With lightning speed, Katie seized the girl’s cup. “No apology, no Nehi, it’s that simple.”

  “You’re a bully!” Gabe shouted.

  “Takes one to know one,” Katie countered with a sneer. They stood nose to nose, locked in silent seething for several seconds until Katie won out. Gabe flopped into the chair, arms crossed and lower lip protruding. “Sorry,” she whispered, barely audible.

  “I can’t hear you . . . ,” Katie said in a singsong voice.

  “Sorry!” she screamed, wildfire burning in her eyes.

  Katie stifled a smile and held out the Nehi and cookie. “Now, one more time, and I’ll bind and gag you like Luke suggested.”

  Gabe glanced up through slitted eyes. “He said that?”

  “Yep. Says you’re bossy and obnoxious.” Katie parked herself on the corner of the desk and upended more Nehi.

  Gabe popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and snitched another two, a grudging hint of respect in her tone. “Humph. Bet he says the same about you.”

  “Yes he does, as a matter of fact. So you see, we have a lot in common.”

  “Why, you wanna marry him too?” Gabe eyed her with suspicion, chewing her cookie.

  Katie choked again, but this time she kept the spray to herself. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Good heavens, no. He’s not my type.”

  That seemed to relax the little spitfire as she sank deeper into the chair. An elfin grin puckered on her little lips. “Well, he sure is mine. I think he’s gor-geous.”

  Katie scrunched her nose and chewed. “You think?”

  “Heck yeah, don’t you?” The brown eyes suddenly widened with the wonder of a child.

  “I suppose,” Katie said with a squint. “If you like the tall, arrogant, magnetic type.”

  “What’s mag-net-tick mean?”

  Katie jumped up, quite sure her face was flame red from the sudden surge of heat she felt in her cheeks. She pulled a chair around the desk next to Gabe’s, hoping the little smart aleck wouldn’t notice. “It means to draw people like a magnet.”

  A surprisingly low chuckle rolled from the little girl’s mouth. “Booooy-oh-boy, that’s for dead sure. Why, half the ladies at the society are loopy over him and most of us kids too. Not to mention the teachers.”

  “The society?” Katie nibbled on the edge of her cookie.

  “Yeah, the Boston So-ci-e-ty for the Care of Girls. Sounds real snooty, don’t it? But it’s nothing but an orphanage, although it’s better than most. Lots of gals just like me who nobody wants. And I can tell ya right now, that every last one of ’em thinks Luke is the cat’s meow.” A smug smil
e tipped Gabe’s mouth as she reached for another cookie and shimmied back in her chair. “But he likes me the best, which is why we’re gonna get married someday.” She paused and wheeled the chair back several inches, wrinkling her nose as she spied Katie’s blush. “Hey, you ain’t gonna spit again, are ya? Your face is red like you’re gonna puke.”

  Katie narrowed her eyes. The little squirt suddenly reminded her of Cluny McGee. She nursed her pride with a deep breath of air, then exhaled. “So, why’d you run away?”

  Gabe gulped her Nehi while eyeing Katie over the rim. “You ever meet Mrs. Merkle?”

  Katie shook her head and took a final bite of her cookie.

  “Well, she’s old and whiney and smells like VapoRub.” A faint shiver rippled through the little girl. “I can’t stand VapoRub. And the old coot she’s married to who coughs up spit? Passes wind like it was a fine talent.” She scrunched her nose as if the smell suddenly permeated the room. “You ever live in a crackerbox that reeks with Vapo and gas? Trust me. It ain’t a feast for the senses, if you know what I mean.”

  Katie did, and slowly gulped the last of her cookie, her appetite suddenly gone with the wind. “The Merkles – are they your foster parents?”

  “Shoot, no – ” Her eyes darted to Katie’s face as she slowly scooted away, obviously concerned about her slip of the tongue. “Sorry, I forgot. Anyways, they’re too old, but I guess Luke’s desperate. Carmichael don’t like me, ya see, ’cause I stir up things at the pokey – ”

  Katie blinked. “The pokey?”

  “The so-ci-e-ty,” Gabe said with pained enunciation. “Keep up with me, will ya? Anyways, I’ve been in eight foster homes inside of six months,” she said with a gleam of pride in her eyes. “So, it’s just a matter of time before I get to live with him.”

  “With Luke?” Katie latched a hand on Gabe’s chair, jerking her close.

  “Well, not Luke exactly, at least not right away, me being a girl and him being a boy. But I’m bankin’ on living with that tall drink of water he lives with ’cause that way I can stay nice and close until we get married, ya know?”