Apprentice Father (5 page)

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 staunch
est 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.

“W
e'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.”

The children's eyes lit up. Cate saw Pop rise from the bench, but she ignored him. “Okay. One, two,” she began to run, “three!”

Emily and Josh released the kite, and Cate ran as she hadn't run in years. Not with her old grace or speed. But she was running. And it felt great!

Until she stepped onto an uneven spot in the ground and pitched forward.

As Cate fell, she released the kite string and tried to brace herself for the impact. But the new spring grass didn't offer much cushion from the hard ground. When her hands connected with the earth, a shaft of pain shot up her left arm.

And she knew she'd made a big mistake.

 

Clay consulted his watch, took off his hard hat, and stuck his head in the door of the construction trailer. “I'm taking an early lunch today, Becky. I should be back in an hour.”

The office manager grinned. “Hot date?”

“Yeah. With a kite.”

“Huh?” She sent him a puzzled look.

“The kids got a new kite yesterday. They were going to fly it before lunch. I thought I'd run over to the park and surprise them.”

“They must be getting under your skin.” She gave him a smirk.

He quirked a brow and ignored her comment. “See you later.”

But she was right, he acknowledged as he drove to the park. The kids were getting under his skin. He enjoyed their innocent questions, took pleasure in eliciting their smiles. And it gave him a good feeling to watch their haunted look fade day by day—thanks in large part to Cate's gentle ministrations.

He hadn't had a chance this morning to talk to her about reimbursement for the kite, or quiz her about how she planned to get it aloft. He'd had an emergency page from the job site as she'd arrived and had flown out the door the instant she'd stepped inside. The crisis had kept him busy all morning. But he'd blocked out time to take an early lunch and go fly a kite with them instead of letting Cate put herself at risk.

As he pulled into the park, he slowed his speed, scanning the grounds. He didn't see Cate, but the movement of an older man rising from a bench caught his attention. His tense posture put Clay on alert, and he followed the man's line of sight—to Cate and the children.

She was holding the kite, and as he pulled into a parking space he saw the children grasp it. They backed up, and a tingle of apprehension raced down his spine. He set the brake and climbed out of his truck, striding toward the small group as Cate started to run.

Considering her lameness, he was surprised at how fast she could move. His step slowed as his appreciative gaze followed her willowy, jeans-clad form across the spring grass. And the radiant joy on her face took his breath away.

But in the next moment, what little breath remained in his lungs came out in a whoosh as she stumbled and fell. Headlong and hard. His heart stopped for an instant, and then his adrenaline surged, propelling him forward.

Seconds later he was beside her, well ahead of the children
or the older man he'd noticed earlier. She had rolled to her side and lay curled into a ball, cradling her hand.

Dropping down on one knee, he touched her shoulder. “Cate?” Her name came out in a hoarse whisper.

She blinked up at him in confusion. “Clay? What are you doing here?”

“I was going to help you fly the kite. I see I'm too late.” She struggled to sit up, but he restrained her. “I'm not sure you should move until we know if you're hurt.”

“I'm okay.” She shrugged off his hand as she sat. “I just twisted my wrist. I'll be fine.” She looked over his shoulder and managed a shaky smile. “We almost got it up, didn't we?”

He turned. Emily had grown pale, and Josh was huddled beside her. The older man stood behind them, a comforting hand resting on each of their shoulders.

“It-it flied real good for a minute.” Josh's words were quavery.

“Did you hurt your leg again?” Emily sounded close to tears.

“No. It's okay.”

She attempted to stand, and again Clay restrained her. “Are you sure you're okay?” He kept his volume low. Partly because he didn't want to further distress the children. And partly because he didn't trust his voice.

Angling her head toward him, she opened her mouth to speak…but nothing came out.

Staring into her gorgeous eyes mere inches away, Clay misplaced his voice, too. Fringed by long, sweeping lashes, their green depths were flecked with gold, he realized. And that wasn't all he noticed. Beneath his fingers, her shoulders felt delicate and soft. A capricious breeze ruffled her hair, and without stopping to think, he brushed it back from her cheek, letting the silky strands drift through his fingers as his mouth went dry.