Her students had wholeheartedly voted to donate the money to fund Davey's surgery. No surprise there. The trouble was, the budget was still several thousand dollars short. They had to make more.
She clicked her instant message, the principal's pre
ferred method of interschool communication, and typed, Are you available for conference?
I have a few minutes. Come to my office, Biff typed in return.
Sophie rubbed the back of her head where a painful pulse throbbed. She didn't love the idea of discussing an ongoing cookie project with Biff. He'd been prickly since the encounter with Kade over the wassail bowl, but his approval was essential.
The bells on her doorknob jingled as she hurried out and down the hall. For once she didn't stop to admire the silver-and-green garland looped across the hall or the cotton-ball Santas decorating the walls.
She strode into Biff's office and told him her plans.
“I sent you an email this morning, Sophie. Didn't you get it?”
She blinked. His wasn't the response she'd hoped for. “I haven't had time to check. What was it about?”
“We've decided to discontinue the fifth-grade fundraiser after today.” His gaze held hers, firm and unyielding.
Sophie's heart sank into her empty stomach. The pulse in the back of her head thudded louder. “Won't you at least let me explain why we should continue?”
“This shouldn't come as a surprise, considering the conversations we've had on the topic. The project is discontinued, Sophie, and this subject is closed.” He scribbled something on a pad of paper. Sophie had the insane desire to yank the pen from his fingers and bop him with it. “Furthermore, this is the last day you can tutor Davey Stephens in your class. He is not a fifth grader, nor are you a special-needs teacher. Mrs. Jacobs in the resource room will take over from here.”
The words were a slap in the face. He was intentionally
trying to upset her. “Why are you doing this? You know I'm a good teacher and my students perform well academically. Having Davey in our classroom has never interfered with that. On the contrary, my students have learned a great deal from the situation. You also know how important that little boy is to me. He just buried his mother!”
Biff flinched but did not relent. “I must do what's best for the students of Redemption Elementary.”
“We're in total agreement on that. What we don't agree on is the method. Isn't there something I can do to change your mind? At least about the project?”
His nostrils flared. Whatever she'd done infuriated him. But what? Why wouldn't he tell her? Surely,
surely,
his actions today were not personal. Were they?
With a flash of intuition, she asked, “Is this about my relationship with Kade?”
A vein flexed in his neck. He leveled her with a glare. “Don't be ridiculous. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a school to run.”
He swiveled away to the computer at his side, leaving her staring at the side of his head in disbelief.
Whatever his reasons, Biff had just taken away her favorite project. With it went the money needed to give Davey a voice.
H
e had to cheer them up.
The thought was laughable to Kade, a man whose dark, depressed moods had given him an ulcer and sent him to a shrink.
But this afternoon, he felt like Mr. Happy Face compared to Davey and Sophie. As she did every day, Sophie brought Davey home from school. Unlike normal days, she rang the doorbell and when Kade had answered, his heart thumping happy thoughts at seeing her, she'd barely said a word.
He'd never seen Sophie down. It scared him. What would the world do without Sophie's sunshine? What would
he
do without it?
“Talk to me,” he said, snagging her coat-encased arm when she started to turn away and head for her car. “What's going on?”
He sounded like his psychiatrist.
She pivoted back toward him and without a word, walked into his arms.
Endorphins flooded his brain. He could handle this.
He stroked her silky hair, let himself have the pleasure of a deep inhale of coconut-scented Sophie and warmed
her with his body. Okay, and he might have kissed the side of her head. And maybe her ear.
She shivered. He drew her into the narrow entry and kicked the door closed, still holding her. A man would be crazier than he already was to let go now.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Davey and Sheba flopped on Ida June's braided rug. They weren't wrestling. Davey wasn't giggling. Sheba's gaze looked soulful.
“Tell me who to beat up,” he murmured. “Resolve my anger issues for a good cause.”
She lightened some and sighed. “You would, wouldn't you?”
“Love to. Say the word.”
“Maybe later.”
Her response tickled him. “There's always hope.”
“That's the problem. There isn't anymore.”
The statement, especially coming from her, bewildered him. The trickle of fear pushed at his nerve endings. If Sophie lost hope, they were doomed.
He
was doomed. “What are you saying?”
She told him. Old stuff-shirt Gruber had put an end to her hopes of raising Davey's surgical fee through the school.
“Why?” he asked.
She shrugged, pulling back from him. Much as he wanted her in his arms, he also wanted to see her face. That beautiful, sweet, loving face.
“Why doesn't matter,” she said.
“Matters to me.”
“I don't know what to do now.” She gnawed her bottom lip. Such a waste of lips, he thought and touched his to the spot. Her lips curled upward and the relief that slammed him was like a tidal wave. He'd made Sophie smile.
“I'll kiss you forever if you'll be happy. Or I'll beat up Gruber. Either works for me.”
The smile widened. “Silly.”
Feeling better, though he'd accomplished nothing but a smile, he took her hand and tugged her toward the kitchen. “Stay,” he said simply. “We'll figure this out.”
Her answer was to sit down at the metal table. “There has to be a way.”
He winked. “That's my girl. Miss Suzy Snowflake does not let bad news stop her.”
He poured them each a glass of orange juice and left a third in the fridge for Davey.
“Doesn't the acid bother you?” she asked.
“Seeing you upset bothers me more.” He took a sip, waiting for the burn. “Know what I think?”
“Most of the time, no.” Lips curving over the edge of the glass, she sipped her juice.
“Forget old Biff,” he said, suddenly struck with zeal and maybe a little revenge on the stuffy principal. “We'll continue the cookie project outside of school, only on a grander scale.” He didn't know where the idea came from, but he ran with it. “Involve your church, the town, your friends.”
“Kade!” Sophie sat up straighter. “That's a fabulous idea. This town knows how to work together. We do it all the time. I'm so used to doing this project on my own, I couldn't think outside the box.”
His whole life was outside the box. “Put ads in the paper, posters up, send out eblasts.”
“Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea, too.” She bounced up and down, nearly levitating with excitement. “A cookie walk.”
“Sounds perfect.” He was clueless. “What is it?”
“We'll enlist the aid of everyone who's willing to bake
cookies. Then instead of door-to-door selling the way we did at school, we'll ask the church to let us use the fellowship hall for a cookie walk. Customers will come to us. We'll set up tables, provide boxes and let customers choose their own cookies. Then we weigh the boxes and charge by the pound or the dozen or whatever.”
Kade raised his hand in a high five. Her skin met his in a quick slap.
“We're going to get that Christmas miracle, Kade,” she said with excitement. “I just know it.”
He wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into, but he'd succeeded in giving Sophie hope. And he felt like a million bucks.
Â
Three days before Christmas, they were on a roll. Sophie had faith they could reach their goal during the holidays when people were more apt to give and more likely to need lots of cookies. If they didn't, she wouldn't be upset. They'd just keep trying. What she loved was that
Kade
had come up with the idea.
Kade
had told her to never give up.
That afternoon, she and Kade took Davey to the mall to shop for gifts, sat him on Santa's lap even though he might be too old and paid too much money for a photo taken by a teenage girl in an elf costume. Kade grumbled about commercialism and ordered extras.
If she'd not been in love with Kade before, she was now. From the moment they'd formulated the plan, he'd shifted into high gear. Ads appeared in papers, the fellowship hall was booked and cookie bakers signed up for shifts to create mouthwatering delights.
Davey, who'd been told that he could have a voice, was suddenly himself again and excited to the point of drawing pictures of a blond boy with music flowing from his
mouth. Kade was teaching him a simple song on the guitar, and the notion of a singing Davey clutched at Sophie's heart.
Hope was everywhere. Especially inside Sophie B.
Â
Two days before Christmas, a coffee klatch of sassy seniors crowded into Ida June's kitchen to teach the youngsters a thing or two about cookie creation. Three ladies argued over recipes for the world's finest raspberry thumbs while doting on Davey and bossing Kade around. The males, badly outnumbered, sneaked freshly baked samples and grinned when a gnarly finger was shaken in their faces.
“You have green frosting on your chin,” Kade said, pointing to Davey. The boy smiled, teeth as green as grass.
“He's eating up all the profits,” Ida June said and shoved another cookie at him. “Gluttonous child.”
Sophie traded laughing glances with Kade. Excited about the fundraiser, about Christmas, about the services at church, about the scary joy of falling in love, tonight she was excited about something else, too.
“You also have frosting on your chin,” Kade said to her. “Red.”
She swiped futilely at her face. “Where?”
He moved closer, eyes dancing with mischief. “Looks delicious. Shall I?”
“Kade,” she warned, sidestepping. As much as she enjoyed flirting and teasing with Kade, she didn't want to give the sassy seniors anything to talk about.
“Oh, Sophie, quit playing hard to get.” Ida June flapped her oven glove. “The two of you go somewhere else to play kissy kissy. This kitchen is too small for courtin' lovers.”
Sophie was sure her face turned redder than the raspberry jelly. “Ida June!”
“Go on, get out of here.”
Three other sassy seniors grinned in speculative delight.
Kade grabbed her hand. “Escape while we can.”
Fanning her cheeks with one hand, she let him drag her out of the too-hot kitchen into the backyard. The cool air felt wonderful. Sheba came along, equally eager to escape the heat and noise.
“That was embarrassing.”
“No,” he said, moving in. “This would have been embarrassing.” He kissed the frosting from her chin.
Sophie hugged him, happier than she could remember. Being with Kade filled the empty spaces inside her. Did he, she wondered, feel the same?
“This is the best Christmas.” She rested her head on Kade's chest and listened to the steady heartbeat. Dependable. Strong. Like him.
“Close,” he said.
She tilted her face to his. “So you
are
doing Christmas?”
“Don't get pushy.” But the words were light and teasing. They gave her new hope that the man she loved could be the man she'd always dreamed of. She yearned to admit her love and hear his reaction, but something held her back.
Please, Lord, she thought. He's come so far and he's such a good man. Heal his heart completely.
“You need a coat,” he said.
Sophie was tempted to say he could keep her warm. Instead, she said, “I have something exciting to share.”
He tilted back, eyebrows raised. “You won a million and Davey's surgery is paid for.”
“Sounds good, but no, although this has to do with Davey.”
“Okay.”
“I talked to the social worker today.”
“And?”
She took a deep breath, both excited and scared. “Someone wants to adopt Davey.”
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The earth shifted beneath Kade's feet. He didn't know whether to shout hurrah or kick something. He'd been giving some thought to adoption himself, not that he could pass muster, considering he was seeing a shrink. Anyway, he didn't figure they'd let a nutcase like him take on a kid.
“Kade?” Sophie's voice intruded. “Did you hear me?”
He cleared his throat, shaky inside as if his volcano had erupted and caused an earthquake. “The family better be a good one. I'm going to check them out. Not just anyone can have him.”
She smiled a little. “I feel exactly the same, but this is not a family per se. It's a woman. A single woman.” She held her arms out to each side. “Me. I'm applying to adopt Davey.”
His heart shifted into arrhythmia, bounding and pounding as if adrenaline shot through every cell. Sophie was adopting Davey? This was good news. Great news actually.
Then why did he feel as if she'd kicked him in the gut?
Needing to regain his bearings, he stepped back to watch Sheba scare a bird from the fence. This was stupid. He should be jubilant.
“He's a lucky kid.”
Really lucky. Stupid of him to feel left out. But they'd been a team, a trio of him and her and the quiet little boy. Hadn't they?
Where did he fit in? He scoffed, facing the facts. He didn't.
“I've been praying about it for a whileâ”
She had? Why hadn't she told him?
“And counseling with Dad and my pastor. Davey likes me and I adore him. He's adjusted to school. I can do this. I want to.”
He touched her arm. “You don't have to convince me, Sophie. You'll be fantastic. You already are. Just what he needs.”
They'd discussed the boy's future a dozen times. They'd shared their hopes for the right family to come along. Had she ever mentioned adopting him? By herself?
Mentally, he kicked himself. Why should she tell him anything? He was nothing to her. They'd been thrown into this bizarre situation by chance because they both happened to be near a certain Dumpster at the same time.
Just because he'd fallen in love with her didn't mean she returned the feelings.
But she did. He knew she did. And the best thing he could do was wish her happiness and get out of her life. He told himself that every day. And every night, he vowed to move on. Then morning dawned and like an addict, he sought her out because she made him feel human again.
Now he could let go. He had to. He could go back to Chicago comforted knowing Sophie and Davey had each other. They'd be happy and loved and safe here in Redemption.
Sheba barked at something in the corner of the yard. Kade grabbed the sound as an excuse.
“Better check on Sheba,” he said, and walked away from the finest woman he'd ever met.
Man, he needed to call his shrink.
Â
Inside Ida June's overheated, overcrowded kitchen Sophie boxed cookies and pondered Kade's reaction to her announcement. He'd said all the right words, but she had a hard time believing he meant them.
“What are you so quiet about?” Ida June asked, elbowing Sophie to one side to take another carton from the yard-high stack. “My nephew do something he shouldn't? I'll box his ears.”
Sophie shook her head. What could she answer? Even she didn't understand what had just happened. When he'd walked off toward Sheba, she'd followed. Part of her wanted to ask what was wrong, but he'd pretended everything was the same.
It wasn't. Even though she couldn't put her finger on any one thing, she felt a change in him.
They'd made small talk until her teeth started to chatter. As if a strange tension hadn't risen between them, Kade had taken her hand and they'd gone inside.
“Just tired,” she told Ida June.
Kade took the packed box from her. “Go. We'll finish this.”
His gentle, solicitous gesture both confused and touched her. She had the weirdest urge to cry.
With a deep dread in her chest, she studied his beloved face and prayed to understand him better.
“Okay,” she said. “I want to tell Davey tomorrow. Will you help me explain?”
An odd expression crossed his face, but he replied, “You know I will.”
He followed her to the entryway and helped her into her coat.
“Kade,” she said, screwing up her courage, “is something wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”
Out of sight of the sassy seniors, he leaned in and kissed her forehead in a long, lingering, almost sad kiss.
“Sophie,” he said, taking both her hands in his so that they formed a bridge between them, “I've never met anyone like you. You're amazing.”