Light in the Dark Night

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Light in the Dark Night Page 10

by Bree Cariad


  Aiden was right. The man was a hero.

  A hero Jonathon wanted to kiss.

  “Want some more lemonade?” Brecker asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

  “Water would be good.”

  “One water coming up.”

  After Brecker disappeared into the kitchen, Jonathon sent out a quick prayer.

  Lord, help me. I think I’m falling for a straight guy. He’s wonderful and you used him to help make the shelter the success it is. But he’s coming to mean more to me. I think it’s probably just from years of abstaining from dating, but I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t pull away from the friendship as explaining it would make things worse. And the fact is, I don’t want to pull away. But I can’t keep this up. Someday I’m going to lose control and kiss him out of the blue and that’s going to make it worse. So much worse.

  Before he could continue, Brecker walked back in, two tall glasses of ice water in his hands. Once he sat back down and tuned into the game, Jonathon finished his prayer.

  I don’t want to lose his friendship, Lord. It’s as good as the one I have with Rolf. Please help me figure out how to beat the attraction. Amen.

  Brecker hollered something and Jonathon looked at the television. His mouth dropped open. “Did that player just run off the field?”

  “Yep. His coach is going to ream him a new one. Nobody was even close to tackling him.”

  A buzz from his pocket jarred him out of starting to laugh. He’d never seen the likes in such a big game. High school, yes. College, no. The caller ID was Rolf’s and worried something had happened, he answered quickly. “What’s wrong?”

  Rolf grunted. “Have you looked out of a window lately?”

  “Uh….” Jonathon looked over at the wall of windows, but they were frosted a bit. “No. Should I?”

  “I would. I’ll wait.”

  Jonathon rolled his eyes and walked over to the windows. He used his sleeve to wipe away some of the condensation. “Whoa.” The snow had definitely continued. He couldn’t see the cars. They were white lumps.

  “Yeah. The weather service says we’ve received three inches in the last hour and could receive up to ten more overnight.”

  “I’ll head out now.”

  “No,” Rolf said firmly. “The police have asked for people to stay off the roads. Find a motel to stay at and come home tomorrow after the roads have been cleared.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “We’re fine. Everyone’s accounted for, though keeping them out of the sheer amount of snow has been fun. Driving home now would put you in danger. So stay safe and call me before you head out tomorrow.”

  “Will do. Thanks for calling.”

  He hung up and leaned his forehead against the icy glass. It helped to wake him up fully. Jonathon turned around to find Brecker watching him.

  “Everything okay?”

  “The snow fell more than expected. Rolf says the police want us to stay off the roads. I need to find a motel for the night.”

  Brecker grabbed his remote and clicked over to a local news station which was all about the weather. It looked far worse than Jonathon expected. The images on screen showed dozens of cars off the road. “So far,” a female voice said, “there have been two dangerous accidents. The state police have asked that everyone stay where they are. Yes, road crews will be out plowing the roads, but they need them clear just in case emergency vehicles have to get through. So again, stay where you are and buckle down. The local YMCA and YWCA announce they have set up shelters to house anyone in need….”

  “Geez,” Brecker murmured. “There’s no way you can head out now. But there’s no reason for you to find a motel. The sofa turns out into a bed and it’s not bad. I’ve slept here a couple times when I was tired and the bed seemed worlds away.”

  Jonathon wasn’t sure how to respond to that. This was not the answer to his prayer he’d been looking for. Trapped with Brecker in his apartment overnight? He gulped. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  “You won’t,” Brecker assured him. “I don’t know about you, but all this news about super snow makes me cold. I’m going to heat up a hot toddy.”

  “I thought you didn’t drink.” Jonathon followed him into the kitchen.

  “I don’t. This is a virgin hot toddy. Hot cider topped with butter, sugar, and spices. It’s amazingly warming. Want to get the butter out for me?”

  Within moments, the wonderful aromas of apple cider, sugar, and cinnamon filled the room and when Brecker poured the concoction into two glasses and handed one over, Jonathon blew on it and took a quick sip. “That’s good. It might even be better than Rolf’s hot cider, but don’t tell him I said that.”

  Brecker chuckled as they walked back into the living room. He shut the window and joined Jonathon on the sofa. “Have you two ever been involved?” he asked, looking at the television as he turned the channel back to the football game.

  It took Jonathon a moment to realize what he’d asked. “No,” he said with a laugh. “Rolf and I have only been friends. There’s never been more than that.”

  A small smile crossed Brecker’s face and he nodded. “So are you ready for next Friday?”

  “Yes and no.” Jonathon leaned back against the sofa and put his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. “This whole thing has been overwhelming and Siobhan has pulled a miracle out of her hat with this event. We’ll finally be able to do things like hire a lawyer to fight for custody of some of our kids and do a few improvements on the property. Not to mention getting more word out so we can get more kids home.” He groaned and opened his eyes. “I hate to think any of my kids are on the street cold and frightened right now. I want them all warm and safe.”

  Brecker reached over and pressed a palm to Jonathon’s thigh. He almost jerked forward and stood up, but stopped himself from doing so. “You’ll find them, Jonathon. We’ll find them.”

  Those words brought tears to his eyes and he turned to look at Brecker. “Are you sure you aren’t a fairy godfather?”

  “Definitely not. I would look awful with wings.”

  Laughing softly, Jonathon shook his head as Brecker took his palm away and looked back at the TV. He let his eyes haze over slightly and could swear the man next to him was surrounded in a white glow with the brightest pair of wings he’d ever imagined.

  What does this mean, Lord?

  Be patient, my son.

  While the answer was not totally unexpected, Jonathon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Obviously the Lord was trying to tell him something and it would take some time to see it. All right. He would persevere. After all, he’d made it through many trials in his life. He could certainly make it through this.

  He hoped.

  Chapter Eleven

  The snow was still coming down. Brecker gazed out the large window next to his bed in the early morning light and was surprised by the sheer amount that was falling. It wasn’t a normal snowstorm by anyone’s imagination.

  Nothing about the last twelve hours was normal.

  With a loud sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared at the painting on his ceiling. When he bought the place, he asked an artist to come up with an enlightening scene. Even years later, it never ceased to awe him when he looked up at it.

  In pale crystal blues, it looked like the sky midday opened to the heavens. White unicorns burst into sight pulling chariots of gold. Four archangels stood on those chariots with their weapons held on high. Forgiveness. Peace. Joy. Love. Each one erupting from the center of the ceiling and racing to the four corners.

  Lying in bed was almost a spiritual experience for him because that scene was what God was to him. Forgiveness. Peace. Joy. Love. Until meeting Jonathon, he’d never met a man of God who embodied all four ideals. One or two, sure. But not all four. And he was honest about his shortcomings, but strove to overcome them.

  Brecker sighed. The more he was around him, the more he wanted to be around him. The problem was
that he was utterly confused in how he felt. Of course, he’d never had a close friendship with a reverend before either. Maybe if he had, he’d find he would have been drawn to him the same.

  The clock read 7:49 and he figured Jonathon might be up and about. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt before opening the door and entering the living room. There was no sign of Jonathon and he startled when he saw the sheet and blankets he’d offered him the night before folded neatly on the end of the sofa. On top of them was a piece of paper.

  Brecker,

  Sorry I had to leave before you got up. There’s been a break in the snowfall but more is expected. I called a friend of mine on the police force. He told me when the snow plow is going my way and I need to get there now before I miss the opportunity.

  I had a great time last night.

  Jonathon

  Letting out a laugh that held so many emotions he couldn’t name them, Brecker made his way into the kitchen and hit the button on his espresso maker. As he waited, he leaned back against the counter and scratched his shadow of a beard. That wasn’t quite what he’d planned. He thought they’d make some eggs and chat over the morning news before Jonathon would have to leave.

  “This is a good thing,” he mused as the rich aroma of fresh coffee filled the room. “I can go to the gym and do my normal Saturday morning routine.”

  As soon as the cup was filled with his favorite holiday roast, he took it with him back to the bathroom so it could cool slightly while he took a shower.

  Forty minutes later he was showered, shaved, and caffeinated. “Time to burn some calories.”

  Before he was out the door, his cell phone buzzed. Jonathon’s name popped up on the caller ID and he smiled as he answered. “Did you get there withou—”

  “Brecker, I need your help.” Jonathon sounded frantic.

  “Are you on the side of the road?” Brecker grabbed his car keys and left his apartment, the button on the elevator pressed before Jonathon could answer.

  “No.” Brecker froze when he heard a soft female sob. “I know, Amanda,” Jonathon said softly. “We’re doing everything we can to get him back. Thanks, Rolf.” There was a patch of silence and then the sound of a door closing. “They took him, Brecker. They took him. I….”

  “They took who?” Brecker asked in a voice he knew helped calm down upset people.

  “Aiden. The police took Aiden.”

  A chill went down Brecker’s spine. “Why?”

  “His parents refused to hand over guardianship and after the event I was going to hire a lawyer to fight for custody. By the time I got here this morning, the police had come and gone.” His voice broke and then he whispered, “Brecker. We have to get him back. He’s come so far.”

  “Do you know what the process is?” he asked, his mind already making lists.

  “A woman from social services was with them and she will either put him in a foster home or back with his folks. Either way, it’s bad.”

  “Do you know what judge has the case?”

  “No. I don’t. Hold on. Let me look at the file they left.” There was the sound of scratching paper. “Here. It says Judge Brennon. Do you know him?”

  Brecker said a very unkind thing in his head and forced himself to stay calm. “Well, it’s not the best news I’ve had. Look. Read the paperwork. I’m going to call my lawyer. We’ll figure out what’s going on, Jonathon. I’m not going to allow Aiden to wallow in the kind of place he grew up in.” And he wasn’t going to allow those people to send Aiden to one of those horrible camps he’d been terrified of. After effusive thanks, Jonathon hung up and Brecker stepped out of the elevator and strode toward his car.

  Before he had the door open, he had his lawyer on the phone. Before he was out of the garage, James and Siobhan were on their way to the office. It was time to play hardball with the cruel people who called themselves Aiden’s parents.

  “Their doing it on a Saturday morning is a ploy,” James said forty minutes later. All three of them were in Brecker’s office sucking down coffee and making phone calls. “Brennon is notorious for this kind of stunt. If it was during the week, I could be down at the court house raising hell. As it is, I’ve got the case file and his social worker’s number. She’s agreed to meet me in her office in an hour.”

  “Best and worst case scenario for the next twenty-four hours.” Brecker liked to know just what he was up against. If needed, he would call in some huge favors.

  “Unless we can get someone much higher up to force a change in the roster, giving the case to a moderate judge and getting him out of bed, best case is he ends up in foster care,” James said bluntly. “Worse case, he gets sent back to his folks.”

  “Not acceptable.” Brecker glanced over at Siobhan. “Congressman or senator?”

  She thought for a moment and then grinned, her wicked brown eyes twinkling. “Boswell. He owes you big, he’s up for reelection next year, and part of his platform is LGBT rights.” She rushed out of the office and came back five minutes later. “His private number.”

  While James and Siobhan whispered in the corner, Brecker stood up and walked over to one of the walls of windows and looked out at the continuing snow as he made the call.

  “Congressman Boswell,” said the voice he knew well.

  “Hey, Barney. It’s Brecker.”

  “Brecker,” Boswell said in a tone that was both happy to hear from him and unhappy to hear from him. “I’m guessing since it’s a Saturday that this is not a purely social call.”

  “Afraid not. I need you to pull some strings for me.”

  The distinct sound of a door closing met Brecker’s ears and then Boswell sighed. “I’m in my office. So shoot.”

  “There’s an LGBT youth shelter just outside of town here. Reverend Jonathon Neiland runs it and he’s exceptional with these kids. He doesn’t just let them be themselves. He pushes for it. He was trapped in town last night due to the snow fall. Before he got home this morning, the police showed up and removed one of his kids, a trans boy whose parents don’t want him as he is, but won’t give up custody.”

  “They want to send him somewhere to get fixed?” Boswell asked, his voice hard.

  “They did before they kicked him out at the beginning of summer. Look, Barney, someone put it on Brennon’s calendar. We know he won’t move a muscle to help us. I need your help in getting it with a different judge and getting Aiden released to Jonathon today before they stick him in foster care or worse, with his parents.”

  Boswell clicked his tongue through the phone, a sheer sign he was thinking. “You can vouch for this Neiland guy?”

  “Definitely. He’s the best hope those kids have for a wonderful life.”

  “Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you when I can.”

  “Thanks.”

  Brecker sent a quick text to Jonathon. We’re working on it. Hold on.

  The next five hours felt like days. James prepared a brief just in case it was needed. Siobhan called the right people to support Boswell. They made calls and did online research. Two pizza deliveries from a parlor across the street later and the light was beginning to dim—both outside and in Brecker’s hopes they could get Aiden out of social services and back with Jonathon before the day was out.

  When his phone buzzed right after five, he saw the name he’d been waiting for. “What’s the word, Barney?”

  “You don’t want to know. Brennon’s a piece of work. The good news is that at seven tonight, Judge Casey Highland will hold a closed hearing on the case. She’s not as liberal as I would like, but she’s a lot better than he would be. They’ve got Aiden with a therapist right now, but I don’t know how that will go. The kid’s probably terrified and that could go any which way.”

  He continued almost without taking a breath. “At the hearing, only three people on each side will be allowed. The lawyer and two others. I would suggest for Aiden you have a lawyer who can pull tricks out of his butt and a
t least Reverend Neiland there.”

  “I don’t know if he can get back into town,” Brecker said with a groan, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Yeah. That’s another problem. For that reason alone, she could deny removing him from social services’ custody until he’s there. Look. I put a good word in for you and she didn’t say much but I get the feeling she thinks highly of you. So if the reverend can’t show up, you might be the kid’s best option.”

  “Thanks, Barney. I appreciate this.”

  “Next time we’re at a party you can buy me a beer.”

  Brecker snorted as the phrase was code for get me more voters. “Already on it.”

  He hung up and turned to the other two. James was on the phone and Siobhan was putting paperwork together. She looked up, a hopeful expression on her face. “James is on the phone with someone at the court house,” she whispered.

  “I need to call Jonathon.”

  She looked outside. “There’s no way anyone’s getting through that.”

  “If the police and judges can, surely he can.”

  “Good luck.”

  He grimaced and called his friend.

  “Hey,” Jonathon said, sounding exhausted. “Any news?”

  “We’ve got a hearing with a different judge at seven tonight.”

  “Really?” Hope was back in Jonathon’s voice. “Where do I need to be?”

  “The roads are a mess,” Brecker reminded him.

  “If the Lord wants me there, He’ll find a way.”

  The absolute faith in that statement made Brecker smile. He gave Jonathon the room number. “James is acting as council on your side. If you want, I’ll be there as well.”

  “Please,” Jonathon said, sounding relieved. “I would really appreciate your presence. Aiden would appreciate it too.”

 

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