A Child's Christmas Boxed Set: Sugarplum HomecomingThe Christmas ChildA Season For Grace

by Linda Goodnight

  “Our pleasure, huh, Mitch?”

  “Yeah.” Mitch’s bottom lip was dragging the ground. He looped a towel around his neck and sawed the rough terry cloth back and forth.

  Collin didn’t want to answer the questions in Mia’s eyes, so he turned and started toward his truck. The door behind him didn’t close for several more seconds.

  He’d gotten himself into this mess with Mia. He’d known from the beginning that a social worker only brought trouble. Now he was knee-deep in this big-brother thing with Mitch and stuck with the constant reminders of everything he and his brothers had missed out on. He knew that sounded selfish and envious. Maybe he was.

  Long ago, he’d made peace with who he was as well as who he wasn’t. He’d made a decent life for himself and, except for his fruitless search for Drew and Ian, he was happy most of the time.

  There was an old adage that said you don’t miss what you’ve never had. He’d always thought it was a lie. Today confirmed his suspicion.

  He wished he’d never come here.

  Halfway down the sidewalk, Mitch asked, “Can I have Miss Carano bring me out to your house tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Miss Carano goes to church. She’s not your personal chauffeur.”

  “I can walk then. No big deal.”

  “Five miles?”

  “I could borrow a bike.”

  When Collin didn’t answer, Mitchell said, “I guess you don’t want me to. That’s cool. It’s okay. I got plenty of stuff to do.”

  They walked in silence, Collin feeling like a major jerk. He didn’t want the kid around right now. He wanted to be alone, to sort out whatever was eating a hole in him.

  One hand on the truck door, Mitchell said, “Will you soak Happy’s foot for me? I promised him, ya know.”

  That clinched it. The little dog was making progress with Mitch’s tender, relentless care. “Be ready at one. I’ll pick you up.”

  He was in over his head. He had agreed to mentor Mitchell indefinitely, and he wasn’t a man to go back on his word. But Mia’s brothers with their camaraderie and craziness stirred up a nest of hornets inside him. The reminders were there, too strong to ignore.

  He’d have to set up some ground rules if he was to keep his sanity. Working with Mia was part of the deal but mentoring didn’t have to include her family. If she wanted Mitch to experience family relationships she could bring him here herself. He was never coming back to this place again.

  * * *

  Mia sat on the floor of her office surrounded by bent, bedraggled cardboard boxes filled with old files dating back more than twenty years. Three weeks ago she’d hauled these files over from the storage room and had been going through them a few at a time whenever she could break away from her caseload.

  So far, dust and an occasional spider were the only things she’d found. The task was, after all, a daunting one that could take years to turn up something. If it ever did.

  With the back of her hand she scratched her nose, itchy from the stale smell and dust mites. The Lord had sent Collin Grace her way, and she wouldn’t let a little thing like twenty years and a mountain of dusty files stop her from trying to show him that God cared enough to help him find his brothers.

  “You busy?”

  She looked up to find Adam standing in the doorway. He held out a tall paper cup. “Could you use a break?”

  “I hope that’s a cherry icy.” She took the cup, peeked under the lid and said, “You are the best brother on the planet.”

  “Does that mean you’ll help me clean my apartment this weekend?”

  “I knew there was a catch.” She sipped the cold drink, let the cool, clean sweetness wash away some of the dust. “New girlfriend coming over?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “How did you know?”

  Mia chuckled. Every time Adam started dating someone new he went into a cleaning frenzy. Only he wanted Mia to do the cleaning. And the redecorating. And the cooking.

  “As long as I don’t have to repaint this time.”

  “We only repainted last time because Mandy isn’t a big sports fan.”

  And Adam’s living room had been painted in red and white with a Red Sox insignia emblazoned on the ceiling. “I knew she wouldn’t last long.”

  “If only I were as wise….” He toasted her with his fountain drink. “Which reminds me, I brought some information by for you to take to your new guy.”

  She eyed him from beneath a piece of floppy hair. “Excuse me? I haven’t had a date in four months. There is no new guy.”

  “Collin. The cop.” He made himself comfortable on the floor beside her. From inside his jacket he extracted an envelope, handing it to her.

  “He’s a friend, Adam.” She read Collin’s name on the front of the envelope. “Is this about that lawsuit?”

  Adam nodded, but wouldn’t be deterred from his original intent of matchmaking. “A few weeks ago you didn’t even like the guy. The relationship is progressing pretty fast if you ask me.”

  “There is no relationship.” Even if she wanted there to be, Collin had an invisible shield around him that held others at arm’s length. “Ever since the birthday party he’s been different. Cooler than usual.” And for someone like Collin, that was as cool as this slush.

  “He left soon after we started the water fight. Do you think we scared him off somehow?”

  She’d wondered the same thing, though she couldn’t imagine anything scaring a tough cop like Collin. “I don’t know. Collin’s hard to read sometimes. He holds a lot of himself in reserve.”

  From the bare-bones information Collin had shared about his childhood, he had every reason to distrust other human beings. But Mia didn’t like the idea that he distrusted her, which accounted for her redoubled efforts to find some bit of information for him in these files. Trust had to be earned. And she wanted his.

  “I keep wondering if we offended him somehow.” He’d been fine while they were talking.

  “Anyone who listens to Grandpa tell that story about the nanny goat and doesn’t run at the first opportunity is not easily offended. Did he mention anything about why they left so early?”

  She’d been out to his farm on a regular basis since the party, but their conversations had mostly been about Mitchell’s latest truancy from school and the rescued animals. Once they’d talked about his search and another time he’d shocked her to no end by asking a question about God. She’d been frustrated to have no answer, but thrilled to know he was thinking about spiritual matters.

  She rifled through another file, saw nothing related to Collin or his brothers and reached for another.

  “Only that he appreciated our hospitality, thought we were a great family. You know, the usual polite stuff. And he thought the afternoon had been good for Mitchell.”

  Adam took the file folder from her hand and stuck it back in the box. “The boy needs a lot of attention. Did you see Mama plying him with cookies and questions?”

  “Mama thinks food is the answer to everyone’s problems.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “My hips seem to think so.” Every time Mia decided to do something about her few extra pounds, Mama invited her over for pasta and bread or asked her to work a few hours at the bakery. Or she went through a mini-crisis and baked some marvelous creation for herself. Having a family in the bakery business was both a blessing and a terrible temptation.

  “So, do you like him?”

  “Mitchell? Sure. He’s basically a good boy, but he needs a firm hand and a strong role model. He went to Sunday School with me last week.”

  Adam gave her a look reserved for thick-headed sisters. “I’m talking about Collin.”

  “And I’m not.” Every time a new man appeared on the horizon, her brothers zeroed in like stealth missiles.

  “I can hope, can’t I?”

  “Not in this case.” Though there was something about Collin that kept him on her mind all the time, she knew better than to let her feelings t
ake over. She wanted God to choose the right man for her.

  “Want me to beat him up? Get things moving?”

  She laughed. “You know how I feel about the whole husband-hunting thing. God’s timing is always perfect.”

  “If God is going to send you a husband, He needs to hurry.”

  “Adam,” she admonished. But she had to admit to a certain restlessness lately. Though her job and her community and church activities kept her life more than busy, she had always planned to be married with a big house filled with kids by now. “You’re a fine one to talk. When are you going to find Miss Right and settle down?”

  He shrugged a pair of shoulders that had plenty of women interested. “I want what Mom and Dad have. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes to get it.”

  And she was willing to wait as well. She only hoped she didn’t have to wait forever.

  Chapter Eight

  An excited Mia jumped out of her Mustang, leaving her jacket behind and hurrying through the cool, windy evening to Collin’s front door. In the west the sun was setting, a testament to the shorter days of late autumn.

  The hollow sound of a hammer rang through the otherwise quiet countryside. Not once in the months since meeting him had she come to this house and found Collin idle. He was either working on the house, with the animals or helping Mitchell do something. Didn’t the man ever lie around on the couch like a slob the way her brothers did?

  She waited for a pause in the hammering and then pounded hard on the door. She’d finally found something and she couldn’t wait to share the news with Collin.

  “Collin, hello.”

  The hammering ceased. After a minute, she saw movement from the corner of her eye and heard Collin’s voice. She spotted him near the side of the house, the area still mostly in skeleton form.

  In the fading light, Collin raised the hammer in greeting, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, he wore a tool belt slung low on his hips.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She started toward him, her heart doing a weird ker-thumping action. Okay, so she was glad to see him. And yes, he was good-looking enough to make any woman’s heart beat a little faster. But she was excited because of the news she had, not because Collin had smiled as if he was glad to see her, too. Mostly.

  Adam and his insinuations were getting to her.

  “Watch your step.” Collin gestured at the pile of tools strewn about on the concrete pad, and then reached out to put a hand under her elbow.

  His was a simple act of courtesy, but her silly heart did that ker-thump thing again. Come to think of it, this was the first time Collin had ever intentionally touched her.

  A naked light bulb dangled from an extension cord in one corner to illuminate the work space. The smell and fog of sawdust hung cloud-like above a pile of pale new boards propped beside a table saw.

  “I finally have the decking on top,” he said with some satisfaction, unmindful of her sudden awareness of him as a man. “Even if the room won’t be completely in the dry before the really cold weather sets in, I’ll be able to work out here.”

  Usually Mitchell was under foot, pounding and sawing under Collin’s close supervision. She looked around, saw no sign of the boy. “Where’s Mitchell?”

  Collin placed the hammer on a makeshift table, his welcoming expression going dark. “I caught him smoking in the barn. Took him home early.”

  “Oh, no. I thought you’d made him see the senselessness of cigarettes.”

  “Yeah, well that was a big failure, I guess.” He sighed, a heavy sound, and ran both hands up the back of his head. “He’s been acting up again. Mouthy. Moody. Maybe I’m not doing him any good after all.”

  “Don’t think that, Collin. All kids mess up, regress. But he’s come a long way in a short time. The school says he’s only missed two days since you spoke to his class on careers in law enforcement. His discipline referrals for fighting are down, too.”

  He squinted at her. “You know what he’s been fighting about?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “I’ve got a clue.” He turned to the closed door leading into the living area. “Come on in. You’re getting cold.”

  Pleasure bloomed. He’d noticed.

  Inside the kitchen, he motioned toward a half-full Mr. Coffee. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” She took the offered cup, wrapping her hands around the warmth. “Are you going to share your insights with me?”

  Collin leaned a hip against the clean white counter. If she was a betting woman, she’d bet he’d laid the tile himself. “I think Mitch is under a lot of pressure from some of the other boys.”

  “What kind of pressure?”

  “I haven’t figured that part out. There’s something though. I have a feeling it has to do with his stepdad. That’s a very sore subject lately.”

  Her caseworker antennae went up. “Anything I need to investigate on a professional basis?”

  Over the rim of his coffee cup, Collin gave her the strangest look, a look she’d come to recognize each time she mentioned her job. He took a long time in answering such a simple question.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to keep your eyes and ears open.”

  She was already doing that.

  “How’s Happy?”

  “Still happy.” He grinned at his own joke and pulled a chair around from the table to straddle the seat. “Doc says the foot is still in danger. It’ll kill Mitchell if she has to amputate.”

  She could tell Collin wouldn’t be too happy either, but he wasn’t about to say so.

  “He’s attached.”

  “Very.” Arms folded over the back of the chair, the coffee mug dangled from his fingers.

  “You are, too.”

  He made a face. “Yeah.”

  And she was glad to know he could form bonds this way, even though they saddened him. Some kids who grew up in the system were never able to love and bond.

  “I have a bit of news for you.” She laid her purse on the table and pulled out a slip of paper.

  “I could use some today. Shoot.”

  “This may turn out to be nothing, but—” she handed him the note “—this is the address of foster parents who took care of one of your brothers shortly after you were separated. They’re not on your list.”

  The expression on his face went from mildly interested to intense. “Seriously?”

  “The address hasn’t been updated and there was no telephone, so we may not find anything.”

  He shoved out of the chair and grabbed a jacket. “Let’s go see.”

  “Collin, wait.”

  He paused, face impassive.

  Suddenly, she regretted her impulsive action to come here first before checking out the address herself.

  “I haven’t made contact. We don’t know if anything will come from this. Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

  “It’s worth a shot.” He shrugged the rest of the way into his jacket. “We’ll take my truck.”

  She had known he’d react this way, pretending not to hope, but grasping at anything. If the foster parents were still around, they might not remember one little boy who passed through their lives so long ago. And if they did, they probably wouldn’t remember where the child had gone from there.

  “This is the first new piece of the puzzle I’ve had in a long time,” Collin admitted as he smoothly guided the truck around the orange barrels and flashing lights of the ever-present road construction that plagued Oklahoma City. “Dartmouth Drive is back in one of these additions. I’ve been out here on calls. Not the best part of town.”

  A bad feeling came over her. She felt the need to say one more time, “Remember, now. This address comes from a very old file.”

  “I heard you.” But she could tell that he didn’t want to think that the trip might be futile.

  Night had fallen and the wind picked up even more. An enormous harvest moon rose in the east. Mia had a sense of trepidation
about approaching a strange house at night.

  “Maybe we should have waited until tomorrow.”

  “I’ve waited twenty years.” The lights of his vehicle swept over a wind-wobbled sign proclaiming Dartmouth Drive. He turned onto a residential street. “Should be right down here on the left.”

  She could feel the tension emanating from him like heat from a stove. He wanted to find out something new about his brothers so badly. And now that they were nearing the place, Mia was scared. If the trip proved futile, would he be devastated?

  “Here’s the address.” He pulled the truck to a stop along the curb.

  She squinted into the darkness. “I don’t think anyone is at home, Collin.”

  “Maybe they watch TV with the lights off.”

  They made their way up the cracked sidewalk. In the moonlight Mia observed that the grass was overgrown, a possibility only if no one had been here for a long time. Growing season had been over for more than a month.

  She shouldn’t have let him come here and be disappointed. But she’d been so excited that she hadn’t thought everything through in advance. She’d only wanted to give him hope. Now, Collin could be hurt again because of her.

  He banged on the front door.

  “Collin,” she said softly, wanting to touch him, to comfort him.

  He ignored her and banged again, harder. “Hello. Anybody home?”

  “Collin.” This time she did touch him. His arm was like granite.

  He stared at the empty, long-abandoned house. In the moonlight, his jaw worked. She heard him swallow and knew he swallowed a load of disappointment.

  Abruptly, he did an about-face. “Dry run.”

  Inside the truck, Mia said, “This was my fault. I’m so sorry.”

  He gripped the steering wheel and stared at the empty house. “I should be used to it by now.”

  That small admission, that no matter how many times he came up empty he still hurt, broke Mia’s heart. She couldn’t imagine the pain and loneliness he’d suffered in his life. She couldn’t imagine the pain of being separated from her loved ones the way Collin had been.

  When they’d first met, she’d thought him cold and heartless. Now she realized what a foolish judgment she’d made.