Love's Emerging Faith (Love's Texas Homecoming Book 3; First Street Church #20)

by Sharon Hughson

  “Send your text.” Javier shoved Lonie face-first into the wall. “You’re bleeding.”

  Bailey stared numbly at his arm. Red seeped around the cuff and dripped down his hand. He staggered into the kitchen and wrapped a towel around his arm, pressing it into the counter while he alerted the sheriff by text.

  Air swam around him, and he seemed to move underwater as he followed Javier, pushing Lonie in front of him, onto the porch.

  The sheriff arrived. Javier explained things while Lonie looked surly.

  “Assault with a deadly weapon.” Bailey raised his arm then jerked his head toward the house. “Knife’s inside.”

  “You realize you’re in violation of your parole?” Sheriff Grant asked while directing Lonie to spread his hands on the hood of the patrol car.

  Lonie’s snarling answer was lost to Bailey. He slumped onto the porch. Another patrol car bounced down the drive, and the sheriff nudged his shoulder.

  “Recognize this?” Grant held a rose-gold ring toward him. MaryAnn’s wedding ring.

  Bailey nodded. “I have plans for that.”

  “I have to bag and tag it for now, but we’ll get it back to you as soon as we can.”

  Bailey reached to tip the brim of his hat and sucked air at the stab of pain.

  “You need to get that looked at.” The sheriff reached for the radio on his belt.

  “I’ll take him to the hospital,” Javier said, materializing from the deepening night outside the halo of porch light.

  As they walked to the man’s rental, Bailey saw a deputy helping Lonie into the back of the patrol car. A strange lightness filled his chest, and he staggered into Javier.

  The man’s hand steadied his shoulder.

  “Thanks.” Bailey’s voice sounded gruff.

  Javier nodded as he waited for Bailey to get into the SUV.

  Thanks, Lord. The hollow soul he’d tried to ignore for so long flooded with soothing peace. This must be my father’s faith.

  As the door shut out the sounds of the arrest, Bailey closed his eyes. With the past finally corralled, he had a future.

  * * *

  After getting ten stitches and a tetanus shot, Bailey seemed no worse for wear. In fact, his concern was all for Tess and her disappointment that Lonie hadn’t cared about her at all. Again, their situation brought Kenton to mind, and Jaz could only pray to keep the gnawing doubts away.

  By Wednesday, Jaz completed the official foster home Family Protective Service’s application packet, so there was no more delaying her decision. Her stomach churned. She tried to replay the positive conversation with Liam James about sufficient funding and community investment, but the echo of KaroLynn’s voice drowned it.

  Jaz fingered the envelope that contained the letter she’d printed from her mother’s computer on Sunday. She picked up her desk phone and dialed Evan’s assistant. When she hung up, she glanced at the time on the computer screen. He could see her in thirty minutes, and she needed to get to the DFPS office by three to drop off the application.

  Was she really doing this? Moving home to focus on getting a college degree?

  Did she want to stay two hours away from Bailey for the next two years? Of course not. And as things progressed with the renovations and the application, she wanted to be on-site at Bryant County Pit Stop. Liam was making that possible with his generosity.

  Jaz half-concentrated on the document she was preparing for one of the associate attorneys, and when her reminder dinged, she snatched the envelope out of her drawer and climbed the stairs. She paced beside the assistant’s desk, and the woman looked relieved to finally admit her to Evan’s office.

  “I wasn’t expecting to meet with you today.” Evan stood as Jaz approached.

  She handed him the envelope, glad to see her hand wasn’t shaking although her legs could double as wilted lettuce. She and her boss sat at the same time, and Evan peered at her, tapping the corner of the envelope on his desk.

  “I don’t think I want to read this.”

  Jaz blinked, but what could she say?

  The paper crinkled as he withdrew the sheet from the envelope. It took a minute for him to read the short missive. She’d wanted to resign and walk, but her parents talked her out of it. Unless she wanted to burn her bridges with these prominent attorneys, giving proper notice made more sense.

  “I’d prefer not to accept your resignation.” He settled the letter on the file he’d been working. “But you’ve been burning the candle at both ends these past couple weeks.”

  Jaz nodded. “Things have come together in a way that makes me sure the Pit Stop is God’s plan for my future.”

  “So, you’ve decided to get the child psychology degree?”

  “With a minor in social work. Jed says that will pacify FPS.” Jaz rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I know two weeks isn’t enough time for you to find a replacement, not if you want me to train them.”

  Evan shook his head. “HR will handle it. Don’t worry.” He cleared his throat. “I have something for you as well, but I was hoping to take you to lunch on Friday.”

  And she was hoping to have lunch with Anna on Friday and iron out her next actionable steps. What could he have for her? A pay raise she wouldn’t be getting now?

  “I can get that on my calendar, sir.”

  Evan’s lips twitched and he arched one dark brow at her. “We use first names, and that’s not changing because you’re heading home to Sweet Grove.”

  Home to Sweet Grove. She hadn’t thought of it that way, but as he said the words, her heart repeated them. Home to Sweet Grove. The small town where she’d grown up was filled with friendly faces and a certain ranch where the man she loved tossed his hat on a peg.

  “Are you going to stay for two weeks? Or will I lose you when you head up there on Friday night to see Bailey?” Evan leaned back in his chair and his hands dropped to his lap.

  “I’ve given my word. I’ll be here until a week from Friday.”

  Not exactly two weeks, but it had taken two days to talk herself into such a drastic change.

  “Let’s not keep you in suspense.” Evan leaned forward and used his mouse. The printer in the corner hummed to life. He rolled his chair back and retrieved the printed sheets.

  He signed the top sheet and curled a corner up so he could sign the second sheet, then he folded the paper into thirds, deftly creasing the pages with his well-manicured thumb. After he pulled an envelope from a drawer, he slid the pages inside but didn’t seal it.

  He held the envelope toward her. Jaz reached for it. “Should I read this later? You went to so much trouble to make it look official.”

  Evan’s mouth curled into a half-smile. “I didn’t want Lisa’s work to be wasted.” He nodded at the letter in her hand. “Open it.”

  Her fingers trembled, and she lowered them onto her lap, hoping he couldn’t see. If it was anything to do with her job, he wouldn’t have bothered to give it to her, would he? Unless he hoped to dangle a carrot in front of her nose.

  She closed her eyes. Lord, I know you want me to start the foster home, so help me deal with this news in the right way.

  Her hands steadied as she unfolded the sheets to reveal a letter on Boldt & Associates letterhead.

  Dear Miss Rolle:

  It’s with pleasure that we inform you of our intention to support Bryant County Pit Stop.

  Attached to this letter is an initial donation of $5,000 to assist you in furnishing the foster home. In the future, we’ll plan to sponsor each resident’s back-to-school shopping trip. The request for reimbursement forms can be located at this link on our website.

  Best of luck as you spend your big heart on the needy foster children of your home county.

  It had signature lines for both Evan and Daniel but Daniel’s was blank.

  “Wow. This is very generous.”

  Evan steepled his long fingers. “There’s a $500 maximum per child on the annual grant, but I know other local businesses offer
similar programs. I’ll make sure you get a list.”

  Her throat tightened. “Thank you, Evan. Since I’m jumping ship here, I didn’t expect your donation to be so substantial.”

  He cocked his head. “You’ve been happiest working with the kids, so I’m not that surprised you want a career where they’re your focus.”

  Jaz hadn’t realized her passion for the clients’ children had been so noteworthy. Was she the last one to realize she wasn’t suited for a legal career?

  “Not interested in the second page?”

  Jaz straightened. “I just assumed…” His brows shot up to his hairline.

  She flipped the back page forward. It was a legal document. The subject header “Tuition Reimbursement” held her attention. She read through it, and suddenly things blurred. It was an extension of the standard reimbursement policy of the company to coursework in Child Psychology. This paper alone was worth thousands of dollars.

  But she was quitting.

  She handed it back to him, happy to see her hand was steady, although her heart did a gymnastics routine worthy of a silver medal.

  He made no move to take it. “I knew you’d leave eventually, Jaz. That offer stands for three years from your separation date with our firm.”

  Her arm sunk to her lap. “How did you convince your brother?”

  Evan waved off her question. “His teeth look sharper than they are. Maximum of eighty percent reimbursement.”

  “If I maintain a perfect GPA. I’m familiar with the company’s policy.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll be missed around here.”

  “This is so much more than I expected.”

  “You don’t expect much, and we can afford to be generous with veterans who continue to serve others.” Evan shrugged to his feet. “I’ve got another appointment.”

  Jaz bolted from the chair. “Of course. I’m heading to the DFPS to turn in the foster application. I cleared the early hours with HR.”

  “Good luck, Jaz.”

  They shook hands, and even though he towered above her, Jaz felt like his equal.

  After such incredible revelations, meeting with the state felt anti-climactic. Again, things seemed to be rolling along smoothly, and that made the acid burn into her throat. If she was supposed to help Kenton and Flo, then why were they going back to an untenable situation?

  Lord, I don’t understand.

  Just because you can’t see God working doesn’t mean He isn’t. Those were Elise’s words on Sunday after she’d repeated KaroLynn’s bad news.

  Clouds had rolled in while she was inside, but they didn’t dampen her excitement about the coming adventure.

  Jaz headed into a semi-empty coffee shop. Apparently the late-afternoon caffeine rush hadn’t begun. She ordered a sweet tea and parked at the round table furthest from the door.

  The stack of papers from her meeting mocked her. She highlighted her liaison’s contact information and dog-eared the page that outlined the process for successful liaison interactions.

  Between sips of tea, she texted Tess and Bailey to let them know things were moving along. Then she dialed her business partner.

  Was chairing a nonprofit a business? She wasn’t sure when it would start paying her a salary, but since she had a roof over her head, clothes to wear, and a way to pay her tuition, she figured it wasn’t as urgent for her as it was for the kids she wanted to help.

  “James.”

  Jaz straightened. “Hey, the application is dropped off. The manager I met with said to go ahead with the construction.”

  “Great. I’ll get the contractors on top of it.”

  Jaz sighed. “Not sure how long an approval will take.”

  “Let’s leave that in God’s hands. What else did you learn?”

  “They assigned us a residential contract manager from the San Antonio office. I guess we’re in a region with a bunch of other large counties with smaller populations.”

  “Did you get all the contact information for this guy?”

  “Gal. And yes.” Jaz swirled the straw in her tea. “Mr. Ives even sent her an email while KaroLynn and I were in his office.”

  Liam whistled. “Wow. Sounds like things will be moving along. KaroLynn knew what she was talking about.”

  Jaz’s stomach lurched. “About that. I want to thank her somehow.”

  “Getting foster kids off the street will ease her load, believe me.”

  “True, but I appreciate her help, and I know she still thinks I’m a little sketchy.”

  Liam’s laugh made her push the phone away from her ear. She glanced around, glad the only other patron was far away, certainly not disturbed by the booming laughter.

  “I’ll come up with something,” she said.

  “I don’t doubt it.” She sensed his grin. “You’re the most determined woman I’ve worked with in a long time.”

  Determined—well, there were worse things she could be.

  “Thanks for going above and beyond.” Her chest cramped, and she sipped her tea to ease it.

  “A year from now you’ll have this in hand, and I’ll slip into the role of silent partner.”

  Jaz snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

  But as she drove back to her apartment, energy hummed through her veins almost as if the caffeine from the sweet tea had carried electrical charges.

  She’d come to Texas in March feeling like a beaten dog, never imagining she could pulse with so much purpose. Had she ever felt this way before? Maybe when she was standing in the batter’s box, but not since leaving college to follow Drew’s dream.

  Always follow your dreams, Drew told her in his last letter. Finally, she was.

  Only one thing would make life even better, and she would see that man’s blue eyes later this evening during their nightly call.

  Come Friday she’d fall into his strong arms, and then she’d be home.

  13

  The Saturday when Jaz returned to Sweet Grove for good couldn’t come fast enough. When it finally did, Bailey prayed his way through feeding the stock in the reddish predawn light, and the chilly breeze seemed to say, “Today is the day.”

  An hour later, rocks scraped the bottom of the canoe as he and Jaz neared the flailing willow branches of Drew’s special place. Bailey dug the paddle deep, sinking it into the gooey mud at the bottom of Mill Pond. The bow carved its way into the beach and halted inches from the tree trunk.

  A smile tugged the corners of Jaz’s full lips. With athletic grace she leaned into the beach, swaying the canoe in the direction Bailey wanted. His stomach clawed into his ribcage, but Bailey swallowed away the swelling nausea.

  He could do this. If he could stand up to Lonie Dyer and the shadows of his childhood, he could face anything. His pulse pounded in his ears louder than the scrape of beaching the canoe.

  Bailey stabilized the boat with his paddle. Jaz stepped onto the rocky shore, and his gaze followed her toward the loose fencing behind swaying cattails.

  Was this the right place?

  Shaking off the wave of indecision, Bailey climbed onto the soft dirt littered with thin willow twigs and curled leaves.

  He stopped beside Jaz. His fingers caressed the coarse hair peeking out of her sweatshirt collar. “You found him just in time.”

  Jaz turned. Her pale green eyes swam with emotion. “I wish I could keep him.”

  Bailey stroked her smooth cheek. “He’ll be fine. You’ll see to that.”

  “I hope I’m not doing this for all the wrong reasons.”

  Bailey waited for panic to unlock his abysmal memories. Nothing. Was he truly free?

  “Once your place it set up, you can petition the state about Kenton.” Bailey tilted his head. He hadn’t come here to talk about the foster home.

  She pushed the brim of his hat higher. His heart plowed against his breastbone, anticipating what often came after that simple movement.

  “You’re amazing. So supportive of me.” Her finger traced a path from h
is ear to his chin.

  A shudder coursed through him, but he told himself to wait. Let her finish.

  “I hate that I couldn’t stop the bad things from happening to you.” She blinked, her gaze locking onto his.

  He dove into the depths of her green eyes. How had he ever managed to earn her love?

  You don’t earn love. MaryAnn’s motherly voice assured him. It’s freely given.

  She proved it. Fritz proved it, and even God had proved it once again.

  “Bad things happen.” For once, the scars on his back didn’t itch to remind him of the horror.

  Her white teeth flashed in her beautiful dark face. “I’m going to make sure these kids have a better future.”

  He squeezed her hips. “I’m proud of you. Those kids might never know how awesome you are, but I do.”

  She shook her head and glanced around. “Is that why you brought me here? To Drew’s place?”

  Bailey’s stomach twisted. Another wave of dizziness slammed into him. He ground his teeth. This clearing would always remind them of Drew, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Instead, Bailey planned to build on those positive memories because that’s the tone he wanted to set for their future.

  Their future. Pressure bubbled beneath his ribcage.

  “He’d be proud of you, too.” Jaz’s words had him stepping back.

  Bailey reached for the brim of his hat. “Why?”

  “Because you’re a great big brother.”

  Bailey snorted. “Tess would argue that.”

  Jaz squeezed his hand. “You protected her. And got hurt.” She narrowed her eyes.

  The healing cut on his arm tingled. Yes, he’d put himself in harm’s way for Tess, and he’d do it again.

  Bailey cupped Jaz’s strong chin. “Some things are worth getting hurt for.” He sucked in a breath. “He’d be proud that you’ve found your dream and are following your own path, rescuing kids from the system.”

  “Foster Child Advocate right here.”

  He grinned, and her breath shuddered, drawing his gaze toward the emblem of a Texas Longhorn on her red pullover. His throat tightened.