Lost and Found Faith

by Laurel Blount

  Maggie plopped a fat cookie on each plate and frowned. “We’re going to need something to drink, and I didn’t bring anything. You wouldn’t happen to have any milk, would you?”

  “Actually, I do,” Neil admitted. “I...uh...bought some for the cat.”

  “That’s sweet. But not actually a good idea, you know, giving store-bought milk to a cat.”

  “So I learned. He drank a great big bowl, then threw up all over the house.” He wrinkled his nose, remembering. “It was pretty awful.”

  “I’d imagine so.” Maggie tilted her head, considering him. “Know what you need?”

  Whatever it was, it obviously wasn’t a cat. He shouldn’t have let the animal inside in the first place, much less made a special trip to the grocery store to buy milk for him. He should have handed Rover off to the local vet or the humane society. That would have been the smarter thing to do.

  He sighed. “What do I need?”

  “Goat’s milk.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Goat’s milk is perfectly fine for cats. I’ll bring you some, if you want. We have a sweet old nanny over at the farm that we milk every morning. Rover loves her milk, and it won’t upset his stomach. In the meantime, why don’t you grab whatever milk Rover left for us, and those two glasses, and let’s get this party started.”

  Neil didn’t do parties anymore—not even cookies-and-milk parties. But somehow before he knew it, he was splashing a generous slug of milk into their glasses and settling across from Maggie at his tiny table. She picked up her glass and tilted it in his direction.

  “To new friends,” she toasted cheerfully. “Go ahead. Try your cookie. I baked them myself.”

  The cookie was as big as the palm of his hand, and when he took a bite, his taste buds went crazy with joy. He hadn’t had a cookie like this in...well, ever. It was amazing.

  Maggie watched him, her elbows resting on the table, chin in her hands. “Good?”

  “Fantastic.” He took another big bite.

  “I’m glad you like them.” She rummaged inside the box and put a second cookie on his plate. “I love to see people enjoying my cooking.”

  “If they don’t enjoy this, there’s something wrong with them.”

  “Aren’t you sweet?” Her smile broadened, and he couldn’t help it. He smiled back. “Well,” she continued, “now that I’ve got you nicely buttered up, I guess I’d better get to my point. I need to ask you for a favor.”

  Neil’s smile faded. He couldn’t imagine any favor he could do for a woman like Maggie. What, exactly, was all this leading up to?

  Chapter Three

  “What favor?”

  Maggie noted the wariness in his expression with a sinking heart. Apparently, the cookies hadn’t done as great a job as she’d hoped. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing big. I just need to ask you a few questions.” She tried a smile. “They may seem a little stupid.”

  “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

  “You sound like a teacher,” she quipped, hoping for a smile.

  She didn’t get one. He only arched an eyebrow.

  She cleared her throat. Okay, then. No more joking around. “So, exactly what happened this morning between you and Oliver? Can you take me through it step-by-step?”

  “Why?” Neil’s brow crinkled. “Was he hurt worse than we thought?”

  “No,” Maggie reassured him. “It’s nothing like that. I just need to figure out how you got through to him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged helplessly. She didn’t know how else to explain this. “How did you get him to trust you so fast? Did you say anything, do anything special?”

  Neil looked genuinely confused. “I didn’t ‘get through’ to Oliver. He screamed. I picked him up and stuck a Band-Aid on his knee. I didn’t do anything special.”

  “Well, something special happened. He’s been with me for weeks, and he’s never let me carry him like that. It’s not for any lack of effort on my part, trust me. I’ve read dozens of adoption books, and I’ve tried every strategy they mention. Nothing’s worked. Not until today, with you.”

  “Since you’re adopting him, I’m assuming his parents are dead?”

  “His mom passed away a little over a month ago. His dad’s never been in the picture. The social worker’s gone through all the channels to try to locate him without any success, so Oliver’s on his own. Or he was. Now he’s got Ruby and me.”

  She saw the question in his eyes before he asked it, but it took him a minute to get it out. “Oliver’s mom. What happened to her?”

  “Drugs,” Maggie answered sadly. “Sierra and I were in the same grade. She didn’t come from the greatest family, but she was a nice kid. Really athletic, too. She ran cross-country, and she was good at it. Then she had a pretty serious knee injury at a state match, and she got hooked on her prescription pain pills.” Maggie shook her head. “She spiraled down from there. From what we heard, things got pretty rough toward the end.” She hesitated, torn between honesty and compassion. “Sierra wasn’t able to give Oliver the best care,” she finished finally. “He has some trust issues.”

  “I see,” Neil said quietly.

  “After Sierra died, Mrs. Darnell from social services called Ruby and asked her to take Oliver as an emergency placement. That’s what Ruby does nowadays, short-term fostering until the social workers can figure out where to place a new kid. When I heard about Oliver’s situation, I decided to become a licensed parent so that I could foster and hopefully adopt him myself. They agreed to let Oliver stay in Ruby’s care until I get through. Then I’ll take over legally, and we’ll go from there.”

  “You call your mother by her first name.”

  Maggie looked up, startled. “I’m sorry?”

  “Ruby’s your mother, but you always call her by her first name. That’s unusual around here.”

  She shrugged. “Technically, Ruby’s my foster mom. I was in the system, just like Oliver, and I came to Sweet Springs Farm when I was twelve. When we met, she told me to call her Ruby, so I did. We all do, but she’s our mother, just the same.”

  “We all?”

  “There are six of us kids. Well, six who stayed, three boys and three girls. Others came in and out. I was the first of her HTPs, and I guess since I called her Ruby, the rest of them followed suit. I never thought much about it.”

  “‘HTP’? What does that mean?”

  Maggie smiled. “Family shorthand for hard-to-place. That was Ruby’s specialty. She always asked for the tough cases, the kids nobody else could manage.”

  “You were hard to manage?”

  She laughed at the astonishment in his voice. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yeah, it is. I don’t think you’ve stopped smiling since I met you.”

  Maggie laughed again. “The good Lord and Ruby get the credit for that. Now I smile. Before I came to Sweet Springs Farm, not so much. Love has an incredible power to change people for the better.”

  She saw skepticism in his eyes, but when he spoke, his voice was carefully polite. “I’m glad that’s been your experience.”

  Something was hiding under Neil’s statement, like a pile of trash swept under a rug. Maggie didn’t have any idea what it was, but she didn’t need to understand to feel sorry for the pain it put in his eyes.

  “My brothers and sisters would tell you the same thing,” she assured him softly. “That’s why I have high hopes that love will eventually reach through to Oliver, as well, even though I haven’t seen much progress. Until today, that is. I realize Oliver’s reaction to you might not have seemed all that remarkable on your end, but it was a real breakthrough for him.” She clasped her hands on top of the table and leaned forward, searching his face. “Are you sure there wasn’t anything special you did or said? Anything at all tha
t I could copy?”

  He shook his head. “I was with him for a half hour, tops. It wasn’t long enough for anything meaningful to happen. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to tell you. Maybe it was just a onetime thing because he was hurt and scared. Maybe it wasn’t...me. I’m not exactly a little-kid person.”

  He had a point there. “Maybe you’re right. It’s a disappointment, though. I hoped today meant things were going to start changing for Oliver.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault. Thanks for talking with me.” Maggie looked at her watch and winced. “I’m really late. Angelo’s going to be beside himself.” When she pushed back her chair and stood, Neil rose to his feet, as well.

  “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Maggie. I wish I could have been more help.” He held out his hand. When she accepted it, his fingers closed over hers with such strong warmth that her knees went a little jiggly.

  “Thanks.”

  One corner of his mouth tilted up as he studied her face. “And I’m not just saying that because of the cookies, although they were pretty incredible.”

  That cute half smile wasn’t helping her knee situation any. She gently pulled her hand free and turned toward the front door. “Well, good. I’m glad you like peanut butter. Me, I’m more of a snickerdoodle girl.”

  “Actually, those are my favorites, too.”

  “Oh?” Maggie paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. “I make a good snickerdoodle, if I do say so myself. Maybe you can try one on Thursday.”

  “Thursday?”

  “Right.” He still looked at her blankly, so she added, “When you come to the bakery for your meeting with Audrey.”

  Neil muttered a low exclamation and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen, his expression intent.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m setting an alarm for that meeting. There.” He finished with the phone and returned it to his pocket with a relieved expression. “Now I won’t forget. Hopefully.”

  She watched him with amusement. He looked so serious. “Forget things a lot, do you? Is that why your keys are still hanging from the doorknob?”

  “Are they?”

  Instead of answering, Maggie opened the front door. The dangling keys jingled.

  Neil ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I forgot those things again.”

  With that wry embarrassment on his face and his hair standing on end, he looked different. He seemed—approachable. Friendly, even. “At least it fits, you being a history teacher and all. The absentminded-professor bit, I mean.”

  The warmth in his eyes chilled so fast that Maggie sucked in a sharp breath. What on earth had she said?

  He reached past her and pulled the keys out of the doorknob, dropping them into his pocket. “You’d better get to work. Goodbye, Maggie. I hope everything works out with Oliver.”

  “Bye.” Before she finished the syllable, he’d shut the door.

  Maggie stood on the sun-warmed porch, biting her lip. The old Sawyer homesite had settled into a harmony with its surroundings long years ago. Songbirds warbled cheerfully in the oaks and pines surrounding the cabin, and a gentle summer breeze ruffled the hairs on the back of her neck. Mingled odors of hot pine needles and sweet summer roses drifted through the air.

  This was a calm and peaceful place, but right now Maggie felt anything but calm and peaceful.

  She felt like she should knock on the door and apologize. The problem was, she wasn’t sure what to apologize for. So, after a few uncomfortable seconds, she went slowly down the steps.

  She really did have to get to work. Besides, whatever pain Neil was carrying around, it wasn’t any of Maggie’s business. It wasn’t as if she could do anything to help him.

  Although, there was one very small thing she could do. On Thursday morning, she could bake a nice big batch of snickerdoodles.

  * * *

  “You want me to do what?”

  That Thursday afternoon, Neil leaned over the dainty table, his focus on the trim, middle-aged woman sitting across from him. The bread-scented bakery buzzed busily around them, and he hoped he hadn’t heard his principal correctly.

  “Consider taking fall semester off,” Audrey Aniston repeated clearly.

  Before he could respond, Maggie paused by the table, a carafe of coffee in one hand. “So? What do you think of the coconut cake?” She topped off their cups.

  The older woman smiled up at her. “I like it even better than the chocolate, which I honestly didn’t think was possible. You’re making this decision awfully hard, Maggie.”

  “That’s what I like to hear!” Maggie included Neil in her warm smile, but he didn’t smile back. His brain was still trying to wrap itself around what Audrey had just said.

  Take another whole semester off after being bumped from summer school? He couldn’t handle so many empty days in a row.

  That wasn’t speculation. It was a stone-cold fact.

  “I have one more sample for you,” Maggie was saying. “And fair warning. I’ve saved the best for last.” Maggie nimbly gathered their small plates with her free hand and headed toward the kitchen.

  He waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. “When I took this job two years ago, it was with the understanding that I’d always be on the summer school roster. Now, not only have you cut me from that schedule, but you’re benching me for half the school year?”

  Audrey’s smile dimmed. “I’m not benching you, as you put it. I’m suggesting you consider using some of your accumulated sick leave to take a short break from teaching.”

  That sure sounded like benching to him. “Why?”

  The older woman rested her elbows on the table, her eyes intent on his. “You really want to know? Fine. Here it is. According to your former principal, before your wife’s death, you were an extraordinary educator. You had a reputation as a teacher who could reach any student, and I know for a fact that you’ve won more awards than the rest of my faculty put together. I needed to rejuvenate the history department, and you sounded like just the man to do it, so I jumped on the chance to snag you. But in the two years you’ve been here, I haven’t seen that Neil Hamilton. You come in and teach your classes, but you’re—disengaged. Your failure rates are through the roof, and I’m getting complaints. When I’ve come to observe, it’s clear that you’re not connecting with your students at all. Do you know what the kids call you? Iceman.” She leaned back in her chair, waiting for his reaction.

  Neil didn’t answer. He’d known about the nickname. He just hadn’t cared.

  He hadn’t cared much about anything, not for a long time. He’d focused on getting through each day as it came, and that had been hard enough.

  “Look, Neil,” Audrey said. “I’m not ready to give up on you. You’re a one-in-a-million educator—or you used to be. You’re a rare bird, and the school needs you.” She paused, then went on more gently. “From what I hear, after your wife’s death, you powered through, barely missing any work. You haven’t taken a single sick day since you’ve been here, either. I think you’re emotionally burned out, and the best cure for that is to step away for a while. Take up a hobby, maybe even look into some grief counseling. I can get you a few names, if you’re interested.”

  He wasn’t. He wasn’t talking about his personal life with some stranger. He jerked off his glasses and massaged his forehead. “I’m not taking a semester off. I have to work, Audrey.”

  “Well, something’s got to change if you want to keep your job. I have to consider what’s best for the school. I need the old Neil back, the man whose stellar résumé is on file in my office. He’s the teacher I hired, and he’s the one I expect to see in your classroom.”

  Then they had a problem. Because Neil wasn’t sure that guy existed anymore.

  “Ta-da!” Maggie swooped i
n and slid plates with dainty cake slices in front of each of them. “Pecan Praline Cake! My personal creation, and it’s fabulous, if I do say so myself. Angelo’s eaten four pieces already this morning.”

  “Two pieces, I ate,” the bald, mustached owner bellowed from the back. “The girl exaggerates!”

  “It was four,” Maggie whispered with a wink. “Angelo just doesn’t like to admit anybody else can come up with a good recipe. You’ll never believe this is sugar-free, Audrey.”

  The principal forked up a generous bite of cake topped with nut-studded icing. The minute it was in her mouth, she moaned. “Oh, my! This is definitely the one. I’m officially placing an order. My sister’s going to love this. Taste it, Neil. It’s amazing. Maggie here has a real gift.”

  “I know,” he replied absently, his mind still focused on those three awful words. A semester off. “She brought cookies to my house.”

  “Did she?” His principal glanced between him and Maggie with an arched eyebrow. “That’s—interesting.”

  “Oh, he earned them, fair and square,” Maggie said cheerfully. “Audrey, remember how I was telling you about Oliver, the little boy I’m planning to adopt? Ruby and I’ve been struggling to reach him, but Neil connected with him right off. It’s the first encouraging sign we’ve seen.”

  Maggie rested a hand on his shoulder as she spoke. He startled, then went still, as if a butterfly had fluttered down to light on him. The warmth of her fingers seeped through the crisp cotton of his shirt. It had been a long while since a woman had touched him, he realized suddenly.

  “Maggie,” a gray-haired woman in a pink pantsuit called from a neighboring table. “Could we get some refills, please?”

  “Coming, Edna!” Maggie gave his shoulder a squeeze, then whisked to the counter to collect the coffeepot. Neil’s gaze trailed her as she bustled around the little bakery. She hovered over the elderly customers as if they were the most important people on earth.