by J B Hawker
“Now what?” Dwayne moaned. “I say let’s bump those two off that seat and go grab the woman, now.”
“Shut up,” Beto drawled, not even bothering to raise his voice.
Several minutes passed before a taxi drove up and the two remaining members of the class left the parking lot.
Hope and Dawn had still not come out.
“Where are they?” Dwayne fumed. “Let’s go get ‘em and make her tell us where she has our stuff!”
“You think it’s a great idea to waltz into a church and beat it out of her. Really? In broad daylight? With who-knows-how-many witnesses? Your brain must really be something!” Beto sneered.
“But the boss wants the money and stuff back, doesn’t he?” Dwayne asked.
“Look, you dope, this isn’t about the stuff she took, not anymore. I talked to the boss again and he told me the whole distribution plan has changed. He’s written off this puny, stupid town and sent all the stuff to Portland. He doesn’t even care about the missing money. It’s nothing compared to the bundle we’re making off the rest of the shipment,” Beto explained.
“Then, what are we doing here?”
“We’re gonna make an example of this witch. Nobody steals from us and walks away. We’re gonna send a message... and we don’t want a bunch of witnesses when we do it. After it’s done, we’ll be sure everyone sees what happens if you tangle with us, but we’re not going to go to jail over it. You got that through your thick skull?” Beto growled.
“Yeah,” Dwayne said. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Beto shook his head in disgust and continued to stare at the church.
…
“Thanks for helping me put the equipment away,” Hope said to Dawn, shutting the last rolled mat into a cupboard.
“Hi, Hope!” Gwennie Barthlett said, coming into the social hall. “How was your oldsters’ class today?”
“It went well. I’ve got an interesting assortment of students in this new class. It should be fun,” Hope replied, smiling at her friend.
“Hi, I’m Gwennie, the pastor’s wife here, what’s your name? You don’t look like a member of the senior citizens’ self-defense class,” Gwennie joked, greeting Dawn.
“Gwennie, this is Dawn. She’s staying with Gideon and me,” Hope said, putting an affectionate arm around the girl.
“Oh? Relative?” Gwennie asked.
“Dawn, would you mind gathering up the extra handouts from the tables and putting them into the cabinet?” Hope asked.
Dawn nodded and walked across the room to do as Hope asked.
“Dawn is our foster daughter, Gwennie. It’s a temporary placement, right now, but we are hoping to make it permanent. We aren’t mentioning it to her until it’s official, though. Just in case,” Hope explained in a low voice.
“Oh, I see. Well, mum’s the word,” Gwennie said, making a zipping motion across her lips. “You’re taking on a huge task. Good luck to you all. I’ll be praying for you.”
“It’s good to meet you, Dawn,” she said, passing her on the way back to the kitchen.
“Say, Hope!” Gwennie turned back and called out. “Did you hear? They identified that murdered guy you and your kids spent the night with in that old graveyard. Still no idea who did it, though.”
“What?” Dawn squeaked, looking wide-eyed at Hope.
“He was local, but I didn’t recognize the name,” Gwennie continued, oblivious to Dawn’s reaction. “He was in the system for a series of drug and petty theft charges, I guess. Just a kid, really. Seems like such a waste.”
“What’s she talking about?” Dawn asked. “Was there a murdered guy in that tomb, or whatever it was?”
“I, uh, I was hoping to spare you kids that little detail,” Hope replied, giving Gwennie a meaningful look. “I’ll tell you all about it, later.”
“Oopsie! Did I put my foot in it, again?” Gwennie shrugged and escaped into the church kitchen.
Dawn, arms crossed, continued to stare at Hope.
“I promise there isn’t anything to worry about. That poor young man’s death had nothing to do with us,” Hope said, picking up her tote bag.
“I’ll bet those goons who attacked us killed him,” Dawn said. “They would have done the same to us if Gideon hadn’t come along.”
“Those guys are long gone, now. Let’s go home. I need a shower and you have new clothes to put away. Have you decided which outfit you’ll wear to school tomorrow?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.
Dawn glanced at Hope with a shake of her head.
From past experience Dawn knew never to take anything for granted.
Beto saw Hope and Dawn exit the church and sat up straighter.
“When they leave the parking lot, you follow. Not too close, but don’t lose them. I’ll tell you what to do when I see a good spot to jump them.”
Dwayne nodded, resenting Beto’s bossiness.
Before the hitman had arrived, Dwayne was in charge of the distribution in this area. He didn’t like being treated like Beto’s flunky.
…
As she drove, Hope mentally reviewed the inside of her refrigerator and pantry and decided, just as she approached the turning, that she needed to make a short stop at the grocery store.
“Sorry about that,” she said to Dawn as she took the corner a little too sharply, causing Dawn to be bumped about. “I just remembered I need to restock the larder, or we’ll all starve.”
The older sedan following Hope failed to anticipate her maneuver and sailed past the corner.
“She must have seen us!” Beto shouted. “Go back, don’t lose her!”
Dwayne made a squealing U-turn and the car’s bald tires slipped off the pavement into a muddy roadside ditch where the engine stalled.
Beto was livid with rage and shouted vile obscenities as Dwayne, shaken, tried to restart the car.
“Now, you’ve flooded the engine, you worthless waste of space! Get out and let me drive.”
Dwayne climbed out and Beto hoisted himself over the console into the driver’s seat. Before Dwayne reached the passenger side, Beto gunned the engine and rocked out of the mud onto the pavement where he drove off after Hope, leaving Dwayne standing in the road.
While her pursuers were trying to get back on her trail, Hope and Dawn were at the supermarket, happily filling their cart with Dawn’s favorite foods.
“Okay, we’ve got the mac and cheese, a few bags of instant noodles, and some frozen tater tots, but how about a few vegetables and some meat?” Hope said. “Do you like pork chops?”
“Dunno. I’ve never had them,” Dawn admitted. Her culinary tastes had been formed in a series of institutions and low budget kitchens which had run to casseroles, overcooked pasta, and inexpensive, filling starches.
“Well, then,” Hope said, trying to hide her dismay. “Let’s get some chops, a roast, and a few steaks, so we can find out which you prefer. And some lovely fresh fruit and vegetables, just to add color to the plates, eh?”
Passing the bakery, Hope saw Dawn’s eyes lock on a chocolate layer cake in the display case.
“And for dessert,” she said. “You and I will bake a cake!”
“I’ve never baked a cake,” Dawn said, eyes wide.
“It’s easy. How does a chocolate cake with buttercream frosting sound?”
“Delish!” Dawn replied, grinning.
“I think I’ve got everything we need at home, so let’s get this show on the road. There’s a feast to prepare!” Hope said, steering the cart into a check-out line.
…
Beto sped past the supermarket parking lot, failing to see Hope’s Jeep parked between a vintage Winnebago RV and a newer crew cab pickup truck.
His eyes scanned the road ahead and each cross street, finding no sign of Hope.
Giving up, he muttered an oath, tromped on the brakes in a squealing U-turn and went back for Dwayne.
When he arrived at the spot in the road where Dwayne had put them int
o the ditch, he found the dejected man still standing on the roadside, looking lost and confused.
Beto stifled an urge to run him down right there. He’d been planning on dumping this loser for a long time and Dwayne’s recent performance only solidified his plan. Beto thought he would relish putting this dope out of his misery when the time came.
“Get in!” he shouted now, making Dwayne jump. “You lost them.”
Dwayne got into the passenger seat, trying to make himself smaller in response to the murderous hatred emanating from Beto.
“Wh-what now?” he managed to stammer out as they drove off.
“Now, we try to find her, again, and fix this mess you’ve made,” Beto snarled.
“Will we have to wait at the church, again?”
“Is that what you’d do?” Beto scoffed. “Of course not! Use your empty head. This is a small town. All you have to do is ask around until someone tells you where the woman who leads the youth group at that church lives.”
Chapter NINETEEN
The first few people Dwayne approached either couldn’t tell him anything about the woman from Mount Zion or they were unwilling to respond to his questions. Frustrated, he sank down on a bench in front of the drugstore with his head in his hands.
“Do you need help, young man?” a gruff, though friendly, voice asked.
“Who, me?” Dwayne said, looking up.
“I don’t mean to pry, but you look like a man with a problem,” George Witherspoon said. “Perhaps I can help.”
Getting to his feet, Dwayne’s first instinct was to brush the man off, but he was feeling desperate. He’d begun to fear that Beto’s violent streak might turn on him.
“Yeah, maybe you can. I’m trying to find someone. She’s a, uh, distant cousin, and, uh, we’ve sort of lost touch. I heard she lives here and goes to that church across town, uh, Mountains Tabernacle, or something. I think she does something with the kids there,” Dwayne improvised.
“Your cousin, huh? Well, I can tell you that Mavis Miller is one of our youth leaders at Mount Zion Tabernacle. Is she your cousin?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah! Mavis, that’s right. I’d forgot her married name. Can you tell me where to find her?”
“Why don’t you give me your name and number and I can pass it on to Mavis and let her get in touch?” George suggested.
Dwayne fumbled in his pockets, as though looking for pencil and paper, then sidled away.
“Never mind. I’ll look her up later. Thanks, anyway,” he said hurrying off.
George frowned after him.
“I wonder what that was about. Some sort of scam, no doubt,” he mumbled, pulling out his phone to call Mavis. The Millers were due to return home soon, so he thought he’d leave her a message about this strange encounter, just to be on the safe side.
Dwayne climbed back into the car where Beto was waiting.
“Did you get the address?” Beto asked.
“No, but I got her name. She’s called Mavis Miller. Finding her, now, should be easy,” Dwayne said.
…
Adorned with smudges of flour and chocolate, Hope and Dawn were messy but satisfied as they stood back to admire the slightly lopsided cake on the kitchen counter.
“When do we get to taste it?” Dawn asked.
Looking around at the cluttered kitchen, then down at her own flour-dusted jeans, Hope laughed.
“Not until we clean up this mess, for sure,” she said.
“Why don’t you go up and change while I clean up and start dinner. We want the whole meal to stand up to our magnificent dessert, after all. You can help me mash the potatoes and I’ll show you how to make the pork chop gravy.”
Dawn nodded with a grin and ran upstairs.
Hope sagged down onto a chair with a sigh. This motherhood business was fun but so tiring.
Smiling, she pushed herself to her feet and tackled the disordered kitchen. By the time Dawn was back downstairs wearing one of her new outfits, the room was straightened up and full of enticing aromas.
Gideon walked in to find them setting the table and chatting happily.
It was a heartwarming sight, just what he needed to ease his earlier misgivings about having Dawn come to live with them.
“I’m a lucky man to come home to find two gorgeous women slaving over my dinner,” he joked. “You’re so dressed up. What’s the special occasion? Should I change into a dinner jacket?”
Hope gave him a hug, then gestured to Dawn.
“Dawn wanted to show you one of the outfits we got on our most excellent shopping adventure today. Doesn’t she look pretty?”
Dawn twirled around, shyly, and Gideon clapped his approval.
“Most excellent, indeed,” he said. “And what did you buy for yourself, Mrs. Hopkins?”
“Hardly anything!” Dawn exclaimed. “I tried to get her to buy some of the neat clothes she tried on, but she wouldn’t. I think she wanted to spend all her money on me.”
“Only because you needed it more at the moment, I’m sure,” Gideon said. “We have money enough in the budget to allow for a shopping trip, now and then, don’t worry.”
“I did get myself a new nightgown, though. I’ll show you, later,” Hope teased, wiggling her eyebrows at her husband.
Gideon began to leer back, then seeing Dawn watching them, he felt uncomfortable.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, stepping away from Hope.
…
After they all enjoyed a delightful dinner crowned by one or two pieces of cake, each, Hope and Gideon cleaned up the kitchen.
Dawn sprawled on the sofa in the family room watching TV.
“Seems like you two are getting along pretty well,” Gideon said while drying the last plate and sliding it into the cupboard.
“She’s such a sweet girl, Gid! You should have seen her today. I don’t think she’s ever had any new clothes,” she said.
“At least none she didn’t shoplift,” Gideon muttered.
Hope whirled around, frowning.
“That’s one of the things she was arrested for, you know,” he said.
“What are you trying to say?” Hope asked with an edge to her voice.
“Dawn seems like a sweet girl, right now. But she’s had a rough life and she’s no angel, okay? I just don’t want you to forget...”
“Forget her past?” Hope interrupted. “I don’t for one minute forget how abused she’s been or the life that provoked her into the things she’s done. But don’t you forget the way she helped us when we were attacked.”
“I know, I know. Don’t get upset,” Gideon said.
“Are you having second thoughts about fostering?” Hope asked, looking into his eyes.
“No. Not really. I just want us to keep our eyes wide open, that’s all,” he said.
“Okay, open eyes... but open minds, too. Let’s give her a chance, okay?” Hope asked.
“Okay. I promise,” Gideon said, pulling Hope into his embrace.
They were kissing when Dawn stepped into the kitchen.
“Is there any more of that most excellent cake we baked?” she asked. “I’m starved.”
Hope laughed, pushing out of Gideon’s arms.
“Let’s save more cake for tomorrow, but how about some grapes and a slice of cheese for a bedtime snack? You’ve got school tomorrow, remember.”
Dawn groaned dramatically, then accepted the plate Hope offered and turned to go up to her room.
“I’ll be up in about fifteen minutes to see what you’ve decided to wear tomorrow, okay?” Hope asked.
She’d been about to tell the girl she would come up to tuck her in, then stopped herself. Dawn wasn’t a baby, after all.
…
Later, Hope stepped from the bathroom wearing her new nightgown and began to model it for Gideon who was already in bed, reading. He looked up and smiled.
“How am I supposed to maintain my decorum, with you flaunting your beauty like that?”
he teased.
“Why would you want any old decorum, preacher man?” Hope said, crawling onto the bed like a panther.
Gideon laughed, then sobered.
“We’re not alone in the house, anymore, remember?” he said.
Hope slid under the covers beside him and pulled her new nightgown over her head.
“No, but the bedroom door is locked, and we are alone in this bed, and that’s all that matters,” she said, switching off the lamp and kissing her husband, who soon agreed.
Chapter TWENTY
The ladies of the club were gathering their papers and purses as they left Peggy Burt’s home following their regular meeting.
“Thanks, Peggy! Those mini quiches were yummy! Thanks for making a vegan version, too,” Judy Falls called as she swept out the door, setting the coat tree wobbling with her fringed shawl and catching her kimono’s wide sleeve on the doorknob in passing.
Gwennie grabbed her own jacket and steadied the coat rack with a chuckle and a shake of her head, before following Judy out.
Hope was chatting with Olivette in the living room.
Naidenne buttoned her coat and waited in the entry for the two friends to come out.
“Hope, I thought you might like to stop by my place for coffee and conversation before you go home. If you don’t have other plans?” Naidenne said after Olivette left.
“Sure. We haven’t had much chance to get together, lately,” Hope replied. “I need to stop by Gideon’s office first, but I’ll meet you at your place in about twenty minutes, if that’s okay.”
“See you there,” Naidenne agreed as they walked to their cars.
Hope needed to pick up some Youth Group supplies, and she wanted to find out if Gideon had heard anything from CPS on their application, too.
The youth sponsors, the Millers, would be returning home soon. Hope wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Would they want her to step back or could she keep working with the kids? If their foster parents’ application came through and they were assigned other children, would Hope even have time to stay involved with the church group?
Would she be able to keep teaching the fitness and self-defense classes, along with the youth work? Even if Dawn was their only foster child, she needed a lot of attention and care. Hope’s mind buzzed with all she had to consider.