Coming Home: (Contemporary Christian Romance Boxed Set): Three Stories of Love, Faith, Struggle & Hope

by Debra Ullrick

  “Impressive.” And he actually sounded impressed. “So, you’re from Kingsville then?”

  “Del Rio.” Her heel picked that moment to twist out from under her. “Ugh.” Thankfully, she caught her own balance this time, but it was a close save. “These stupid shoes.”

  Skeptically he surveyed her feet. “They don’t make walking look all that easy or that safe.”

  “Tell me about it.” She continued walking although he had slowed down in deference to her struggle.

  Shaking his head, he pressed his lips together in earnest concern. “Why don’t you take them off? You’re gonna kill yourself on that last quarter up the hill.”

  “Oh, yeah. Like I’m going to walk into the Ayer mansion barefoot. That should make a really great first impression.” Sarcasm dripped from her spirit. Who would even make such a dumb suggestion?

  He glanced behind them. “Well, nobody comes down this road but me. They ain’t gonna see you anyway, and besides, I’ll warn you before we get too close.”

  Maggie still wasn’t so sure, but her ankles were starting to protest rather loudly. “Okay, fine.” She reached down for one shoe but had to scoot her other foot around to keep her balance. She reached out for something solid and met his arm coming the other way.

  Smooth skin under her palm ripped sanity away from her. How in the world had she gotten here? Sweat beaded out of her back, and she was quite sure it had nothing to do with the humidity. Quickly she removed first one shoe and then the other. When they were off and she was once again on solid footing, she had to admit it was a good idea, even if her breathing was no longer working properly.

  “You got it?” he asked, eyeing her seriously.

  “Yeah.” She forced a knot of a smile on her face and started walking. The pavement would’ve been burning hot had it not been shaded by the millions of leaves above them. Just then a breeze swept through the branches and right over them. “Ah.” The sigh of relief was automatic.

  “So, you’re an early childhood education major?” he asked as they made their way back up the road. It didn’t take long to understand what he meant about that last quarter of a hill. If it was any steeper than this part, she was in trouble.

  “Yeah. I graduated in December. This is the first permanent thing I found.”

  “Well, we’re glad to have you. I’m sure Pete and Izzy will keep you on your toes.”

  The question of how familiar he seemed in referring to the children traced through her, but before she could voice that thought, he looked at her, and that scattered her thoughts like the pieces of a shattering window.

  “So, are you up for the 24-hour thing? Most people hear that and go running for the exits.”

  She shrugged, and it took a solid breath to beat the sadness in her chest down. “I like the idea of having a roof over my head. It’s worth a little work to have that.”

  He nodded, head down, concentrating on walking. When she looked over at him, she fought not to notice how rugged and tanned his face was. In fact, with that face and that body, he looked like he belonged nowhere else other than out in nature, taming some wild beast. His whiskers were more than a five o’clock shadow. They were a dark emphasis to the sheer masculinity of the rest of him. With a glance he caught her looking at him and smiled. Lines of amusement appeared on either side of his face. “What?”

  “Oh. Nothing.” She ripped her gaze away from him. “I just hope I don’t do anything to mess this up.”

  When he looked at her again, the smile that was already beginning to get to her was a soft and encouraging. “I think you’ll be just fine.”

  Chapter Two

  “Schedules are to be followed not questioned,” Inez said with no small amount of seriousness. “I will have Patty Ann put a full schedule for the children’s next week on the desk in your room.”

  “Umm, Patty Ann?” Maggie asked, wanting not to miss even the smallest detail.

  “Mrs. Ayer’s personal secretary. She handles all of Mrs. Ayer’s personal affairs including children issues.”

  Children issues? They sounded like line items on a checklist.

  “For tonight’s purposes, baths are at 7:30 sharp. Bedtime is eight. It would be best if you stayed in your room or at least in the children’s wing during your time here. I do not recommend going anywhere else other than down these stairs to the kitchen or the entryway stairs to the outside if need be. The last nanny was fired for being where she wasn’t supposed to be.”

  Fear pounced on her, but she yanked it back. “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Well, unless there are any questions, it’s time for me to start dinner.”

  The United States Navy couldn’t have sounded any more regimented.

  “I think I’ll be fine.”

  Like a drill sergeant Inez turned on her heel and started down the stairs that led right into the kitchen. With a sigh of exasperated relief, Maggie turned the other direction. “Welcome to the life of the rich and famous.” She went into the playroom. Peter was now sitting quietly on the floor, playing with the blocks. Isabella was lying on the little couch sucking her thumb. Big brown eyes stared at Maggie, wary but hopeful.

  “Ah, sweetie-girl, are you tired?” Maggie walked over and picked her up, soft pink ruffled dress and all. “What do you say we sit here in the chair and read a book? How would that be?” She carried the child to the wooden rocking chair and sat down.

  Reaching to the side, she pulled up the first book she came to. Sleeping Beauty. With the barest of pushes of her toe, she started the chair rocking gently. Isabella tucked her head closer to Maggie who wrapped her spirit around the baby in her lap. “Once upon a time…”

  Calling Dallas wasn’t all that unusual for Keith. In fact, he usually found some excuse to bridge the gap between them at least three or four times during the week. So why placing that call on Thursday night felt so strange, he couldn’t exactly tell. She would be back home in a couple of weeks, and in truth he was looking forward to seeing her again.

  When her phone clicked, he smiled as he always did when they stole a few minutes away from life to be together. He settled deeper into the soft cream couch. “Hey, babe. How’s it going?”

  Dinner had been interesting. Baths weren’t much better. Not because the children were bad or hard to manage. Much the opposite. As Maggie sat on her massive, preternaturally high, four-poster queen bed, she leaned her head first one way, then the other to work out the kinks. It wasn’t something she could put into actual words, but both children did not seem so much children as miniature adults.

  They were quiet. Very quiet. Especially Peter. He seemed so circumspect about every move he made. Like when they entered the formal dining room and he had walked first to his mother to give her a kiss on the cheek and then to his father whom he shook hands with. It was like watching someone meet the queen. Isabella was more demonstrative but measurably so. Maggie wrapped her arms around her knees as she thought about holding the little girl while they rocked, read, and then took a nap together. Here there was no yelling, no danger of physical harm, and yet, there was no joy either.

  Even at Mrs. Malowinski’s, there were always ropes to jump and games to play. Here, games seemed to be relegated to Peter being one-on-one with a few blocks in the corner. Maggie shook her head and pursed her lips together. Pulling the heavy deep red comforter dotted with thousands of tiny white flowers entwined with green vine from her legs, she slid off the bed and onto her knees. The plush cream carpeting felt like clouds. Propping her hands on the edge of the bed, she bent her head and let the words in her heart become wings of prayer.

  “Dear Lord, I know these kids have everything. Everything except what they really need. Please give me the strength and the wisdom to bring Your joy and love into their lives. Bind Satan from this house and let him not get a foothold here. Cast him out into the darkness, and fill this house with Your light, Your love, Your grace, and Your peace. Amen. Oh, and keep Mrs. Mal and all her k
ids safe for me. Rain Your saving love into the hearts of every child who is alone, afraid, or in need tonight. I ask all these things in Your Name. Amen.”

  When she stood, she considered getting into bed but thought better of it. Instead she padded quietly to the door. She cracked it open and checked both ways. Slipping into the hallway, she tiptoed to the door next to hers—Isabella’s.

  As it had the first time, the sheer size of the room brought a shake of her head. She walked silently to the baby bed wrapped in big, pink ruffles and peered over the side. Peaceful and soft, Isabella lay, sucking her thumb, eyes closed, and cooing softly. “Good night, little one. God bless you.” Maggie laid her hand on the little curls and said a quick prayer. Then she turned and tiptoed out into the nightlight-illuminated hallway and to the room across the way.

  In the junior bed with the ball and bat wallpaper ringing the room around him lay Peter. He seemed at first to be sleeping, but then she noticed his little eyes twitching ever-so-slightly. Puzzled, she bent closer to him and watched carefully. It took several seconds, but his eyes became slits.

  “Peter,” she said softly in case he really was asleep. At that he came full awake. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re not asleep yet?”

  Solemnly he shook his head, his soft brown eyes pleading with her not to be mad. She smiled gently. “Tell you what. Why don’t we say our prayers together? Maybe that will help.” Kneeling next to his bed, she took hold of his little hand and closed her eyes. “Dear Jesus, be with Peter tonight. Give him peace. Help him to fall asleep. Send Your saints and angels to guard him through the night until the dawning of the morning light. This we ask in Your Name. Amen.”

  A grateful smile traced through Peter’s eyes and across his face.

  “Better?” she asked, gazing at him seriously.

  Up and down went the little head.

  “Good.” She pulled the covers around him and tucked them in. When she stood, she ran her hand over his blond hair. “Now you get some sleep and let Jesus take care of everything else. K?”

  “K.”

  “I’m right down the hall if you need anything.”

  He nodded. His eyes already starting to look heavy and laden with sleep.

  “Good night, sweet prince,” she said, and with one more brush of his hair, she left him to his dreams.

  As stupid as it sounded, Keith wondered the next day how Maggie was getting by. He checked on her car on his way to work, and it was indeed still in the barn. Impressive, crossed his mind. Of course, it couldn’t last. Vivian was impossible with the help, and his father was more apt to fire than to listen. Trying to dismiss her from his thoughts, Keith entered the stables and strode to the office in the back. “Morning.”

  Ike Jones, the trainer, looked up, and his face fell in concern. “You’re up early. You feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just figured if we’ve only got ‘til May to get Dragnet going, we’d better get to work.”

  “Hodges called about the feed,” Ike said. “It should be here tomorrow. Something about hauling regs upstate.”

  “We got enough to cover it?”

  “Yeah, but we need to keep a watch on them. They did this last minute thing to us two months ago. I don’t want to make a habit out of cutting it this close.”

  “Got it.” Keith yanked on his work gloves. “Did you get that fence fixed yesterday?”

  “Fence?” Ike asked incredulously. “I’ve been buried here under this mountain of paperwork for a week. What do you think?”

  Keith smiled with a slight tease on the edges. “I’ll let you worry about the paperwork. Leave the real work to me.”

  “Ha. Ha.” But Ike didn’t really protest. “Don’t hurt yourself getting your head through the door.”

  This time Keith laughed out right. “No worries there. That’s why they made the barn doors so wide.”

  Ike too joined in the laughter. Then his gaze fell to the desk. “Oh, and sometime today you need to take these invoices up to the main house. Your dad needs them for the accountants.”

  “Invoices? Be still my beating heart.”

  “Yeah. Yours or mine,” Ike said with more seriousness this time. “And with all due respect, I’d rather it be yours.”

  Keith yanked the nail bags from the sidewall. “Such loyalty. You won’t take a bullet for me?”

  “A bullet yes. Your father on the other hand...”

  With a shake of his head, Keith attached the belt to his waist. “You’re the definition of bravery, Ike.”

  “Bravery around here gets people killed or fired… Neither of which I really need right now.”

  Keith started toward the door and was halfway out of it when Ike yelled.

  “Hey! Invoices.”

  Some excitement in life just couldn’t be avoided. He stepped back to the trainer’s desk and took the stack of papers. “Okay, but if I don’t come back, it’s your fault.”

  “Better my fault than my head.”

  And Keith ducked out. His father was bad. There was no doubt about it. Everyone knew it, and they all lived life in barely disguised fear. But really he wasn’t all that bad. At least he hadn’t been when Keith’s mother was still alive. The sadness that always accompanied thoughts of her drifted over him. Pushing it back, he loaded the tools he needed into the bright red, Dodge extended cab and climbed in. That was the one lesson he had learned with precision from his father—the great therapeutic benefits of good, old-fashioned hard work.

  It had taken her most of the morning to find it, but with careful examination, Maggie had indeed carved out one whole hour in which nothing else was planned for the children. In the morning it was dance class for Isabella and art for Peter. Then lunch in the breakfast nook. Even that detail was noted on the schedule. In fact, everything was noted down to the minute, including the ten minutes of walking in the garden from one o’clock to ten after.

  However, after the walk and before naptime, which was also clearly spelled out, there it was—a whole blessed hour with not one thing scheduled. She had seen the enormous redwood playhouse in the backyard from the window in the playroom. Bending down to their level, she let her eyes go wide. “What do you say before naptime we go out in the playhouse and read some stories?”

  “Stowies!” Isabella squealed excitedly.

  “Shh!” Peter immediately warned, and the fear was evident.

  “No, it’s okay, Peter,” Maggie said, taking his hand. “Isabella’s just happy. Aren’t you happy?”

  “I don’t want to go.” Sullen and afraid, he looked like a trapped animal.

  “Really? Why not?”

  His gaze dropped to the carpet. “I don’t want to get dirty. We’ll get dirty if we go outside.”

  “Oh.” She sounded like she understood although she really didn’t. “Well, I’ll tell you what. We’ll find some clothes that we don’t have to worry about a little dirt. How would that be?”

  Peter still didn’t look convinced, but Maggie started about finding the clothes despite his reluctance. It took fifteen minutes of their precious hour, but she got them ready, and with Isabella in one arm and Peter’s hand tucked securely in her other hand, they went out to the playhouse in the backyard.

  “Crud.” The invoices still lay on the seat. Really and truly Keith didn’t have time for this, but he knew it was time that had to be made. Turning the pickup up the side road, he bypassed the stables and headed to the main house. Jeffrey was out front mowing, and Keith waved at him with a lift of his hand. “Just get this done and get back to work.”

  He climbed the front steps two at a time and entered without announcing his presence. Everything was quiet. Not a sound anywhere. He wondered for a moment where Maggie and the kids were. Probably at some lesson of some kind. There was never a shortage of lessons with Vivian at the helm. Quietly he made his way down to his father’s office at the end of the hallway. He was one second from knocking when he heard the voices from beyond the door, which was open a fraction of an i
nch.

  It took him a minute of listening to decide who was in there and whether or not he should knock. By the time he decided, knocking was obviously less than prudent.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t notice this on her records,” his father said. “That’s not inconsequential you know.”

  “I know, Conrad. Believe me. I know. If I would’ve noticed it, I would never have even called her in the first place, but you know how desperate I’ve been for someone. I thought Alicia was the answer, but then she quit before she ever showed up. This was the only application I had left.”

  “You should know better, Viv. We can’t have just anybody coming in this house. There are records and information—not to mention the money and the jewelry. Someone with her background… You just never know. How can we trust someone like that?”

  “I get it, Conrad. Really I do, but we’re leaving Monday. We’ve had this cruise scheduled for six months. If I fire her now, there’s no way I’ll have someone else by then. I don’t want to miss this trip. We haven’t been anywhere just the two of us since Izzy was born.”

  “I don’t know. Leaving her here for a whole week with no one to look after the place? I don’t like the sound of that.”

  As if he hadn’t been standing there for five minutes, Keith knocked on the door. “Dad?” He pushed the door open, and his father and Vivian both looked up like they had been caught. “Oh, sorry, Vivian. I didn’t realize you were here.” He held up the receipts. “I just needed to drop these off.”

  Nonchalantly he stepped into the room and handed the receipts over to his father. Then he turned to go but stopped. “Oh. We’re keeping an eye on Hodges. They’ve been jerking us around on the feed supply. Just so you know.”

  “Okay.”

  Keith could feel the intense conversation going on between the two of them without hearing any of it. “Well, that’s it. I’ll just get…”