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Mission: Motherhood
Marta Perry


Overnight, Caitlyn Villard becomes mother to twin five-year-olds. Her darling nieces are orphaned, their parents fallen soldiers. So Caitlyn trades New York City for Prairie Springs, Texas, the small military town she'd run from at first chance. Loving the girls is easy. Learning how to be a slow-paced soccer mom is not. Which is where handsome army chaplain Steve Windham steps in.Just in time to show Caitlyn that sometimes you find the man–and life–of your dreams where you least expected.












Was Caitlyn up to the responsibility she’d inherited?


Steve studied her, frowning a little. He remembered her well, even though she’d been three years behind him in school. Maybe she’d stood apart because of the fierce ambition she’d shown even then.

She’d used that single-minded determination of hers to take the big city by storm. From what he could see, apparently she’d made it, despite all the obstacles there must have been for a girl from Texas with no money.

And now, Caitlyn Villard had grown into a beauty—if you liked women who were sophisticated, even icy. But the important thing wasn’t how she looked. What was crucial was whether she could be a mother to her twin nieces.



Homecoming Heroes: Saving children and finding love deep in the heart of Texas

Mission: Motherhood—Marta Perry (LI#452)

July 2008

Lone Star Secret—Lenora Worth (LI#456)

August 2008

At His Command—Brenda Coulter (LI#460)

September 2008

A Matter of the Heart—Patricia Davids (LI#464)

October 2008

A Texas Thanksgiving—Margaret Daley (LI#468)

November 2008

Homefront Holiday—Jillian Hart (LI#472)

December 2008




MARTA PERRY


has written everything from Sunday school curriculum to travel articles to magazine stories in more than twenty years of writing, but she feels she’s found her writing home in the stories she writes for Love Inspired.

Marta lives in rural Pennsylvania, but she and her husband spend part of each year at their second home in South Carolina. When she’s not writing, she’s probably visiting her children and her six beautiful grandchildren, traveling, gardening or relaxing with a good book.

Marta loves hearing from readers, and she’ll write back with a signed bookmark or her brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. Write to her c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279, e-mail her at marta@martaperry.com, or visit her on the Web at www.martaperry.com.




Mission: Motherhood

Marta Perry








Special thanks and acknowledgment to Marta Perry for her contribution to the Homecoming Heroes miniseries


Bear one another’s burdens,

and so fulfill the law of Christ.

—Galatians 6:2


This story is dedicated to the Love Inspired sisters

who worked on this continuity series—

Lenora, Brenda, Pat, Margaret and Jillian.

And, as always, to Brian, with much love.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion




Chapter One


It had taken ten years in New York City to eliminate all traces of Texas from Caitlyn Villard’s voice. It took only a week in Prairie Springs to bring it back again.

Had she really just said y’all to the kindergarten teacher and her own twin nieces? Caitlyn stepped out into the courtyard of the Prairie Springs Elementary School. She was greeted by a blast of air hot enough to wilt her hairstyle and melt the makeup from her face.

“Um, ma’am?” The warm drawl came from above.

She looked up. A lanky man clung to the top of a wooden stepladder, a paint can in one hand and a dripping brush in the other. “You might want to move out of range a bit.”

“Sorry.” She took a few steps away, standing under the shade of the roof overhang. She had obviously forgotten just how hot Texas was in July.

Through the window she could see into the room where Amanda and Josie sat at a round table with Sarah Alpert, who was assessing their readiness to start kindergarten in September.

That was still two months away. By the time the twins started school, she would be back in New York, picking up the threads of her interrupted life. Back on the fast track to partner at Graham, Graham and Welch, one of the Big Apple’s most prestigious law firms. This interval in Texas, helping her mother cope with the aftermath of her sister’s death, would be a memory.

“You brought the girls in for their first taste of kindergarten, did you?”

Caitlyn blinked, as startled as if the spindly potted shrub next to the door had made a personal remark. The painter had descended—tall, lanky, wearing the scuffed boots, blue jeans, western belt and ball cap that were almost a uniform here.

“I beg your pardon?” It was a tone designed to freeze unwelcome attention.

“The twins,” he said, as if she was a bit slow on the uptake. “I bet they’re excited about starting kindergarten in the fall.”

His eyes, intensely blue in a lean, tanned face, now held amusement. They also seemed vaguely familiar.

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Well, now, I reckon I’m just not as memorable as I thought I was.” He didn’t look as if he believed that, in spite of the aw-shucks expression he wore. He tipped the ball cap politely. “Steve Windham. Prairie Springs High School. Ring any bells?”

She had to dredge through memories she’d happily buried a long time ago. “Steve Windham. I guess so. You were a senior when I was a freshman, I think.”

Actually she knew, but she didn’t intend to pander to the man’s self-conceit. He looked far too pleased with himself already.

She let her gaze wander over what had to be at least six feet or more of solid muscle. Steve had been the star athlete of his class, and he still looked it. He’d been the valedictorian, too, and probably voted most likely to succeed.

“That’d be about right,” he agreed. “That was way too many years ago, I guess.”

“And after high school you became a housepainter, did you? I thought I remembered that you had an athletic scholarship to one of the big schools.”

That was typical of Prairie Springs. People just settled down to live the way their folks had, instead of getting out into the world and making a mark. Being a painter was fine, if that was what you really wanted, but it was hard to believe someone with Steve’s intelligence and talent hadn’t had any bigger goals.

Steve’s right eyebrow cocked, giving him a quizzical look. “I don’t guess there’s anything wrong with painting. It’s an honest day’s work. So what did Ms. Caitlyn Villard turn out to be?”

She hadn’t meant to insult the man, and realized maybe she had been a little judgmental. It wasn’t any of her business how Steve Windham spent his life.

“I’m an attorney in New York.”

That eyebrow lifted a little higher. “Only now you’re back in Prairie Springs. Going to practice law here, are you?”

She hoped the horror she felt at his suggestion didn’t show on her face.

She managed what she hoped was a polite smile. “You’ll have to excuse me. I think the teacher is ready for me to come back in.”

He nodded, still with that faintly amused grin on his lips.

She hurried away, aware that he stood there staring after her, with his thumbs hooked nonchalantly in his belt.

Get out of Prairie Springs. That had been her only goal back in high school.

Well, now she’d come full circle. Getting out of Prairie Springs was her only goal now.



Sarah Alpert, the kindergarten teacher, gave Caitlyn a welcoming smile as she reentered the classroom. A slim, fine-boned redhead, she seemed to exude warmth, and her casual jeans and shirt made the situation feel less formal for her young prospective students.

She rose from her place at the low table where she’d been sitting with the twins.

“You girls can finish up your pictures while I talk with your aunt, all right?”

Amanda, the older by twenty minutes, looked a little rebellious at the prospect of sitting still, but she turned back to her picture at Ms. Alpert’s firm gaze. Josie never lifted her eyes from the page, appearing lost in whatever she was drawing.

The twins were physically identical, with their straight, chestnut-colored hair and big blue eyes, but they were very different in personality. Caitlyn got them right about eighty percent of the time, and probably the teacher, with her experience, would quickly figure out how to tell them apart.

Sarah led the way to her desk at the end of the room, where they’d have a little privacy. She nodded to a folding chair she’d put at right angles to the desk, and Caitlyn sat down.

“How did they do?”

Caitlyn was surprised to find that she had any apprehension about it. She’d only seen the twins a handful of times in their young lives, but they seemed bright. Certainly her younger sister, Carolyn, had been intelligent, even if she’d scorned the education Caitlyn had always thirsted for.

“They’re certainly ready intellectually for kindergarten.”

“That’s good.” That was why they were here, after all, wasn’t it?

But the teacher’s gaze still expressed some concern. “As to how they’ll be dealing with their loss in another two months, I just don’t know. I guess we’ll see where they are then. Grief from the loss of both parents could affect their adjustment.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” There were, it appeared, a lot of things she hadn’t thought of. Well, what did she know about five-year-olds?

Sarah Alpert nodded sympathetically. “Have you noticed many changes in them since they learned that their parents were gone?”

“I haven’t—I mean, my job in New York keeps me very busy. My mother was taking care of the twins after my sister and her husband were deployed.”

“Yes, of course. I know that. You have my sympathy for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Her throat tightened on the words.

Carolyn and Dean, her husband, both gone in an instant on the other side of the world. That was something people in Prairie Springs must have to get used to, living as they did in the shadow of the army’s Fort Bonnell.

She cleared her throat. “In any event, my mother says that Amanda has been more mischievous than usual, and Josie more withdrawn, although she’s always been the shyer of the two. Ms. Alpert—”

“Call me Sarah, please.” The teacher reached across the desk to press her hand. “We all know each other here, and your mother and I have often worked on church suppers together.”

“Yes, she said that she knew you. She wanted me to mention to you that Josie will follow wherever Amanda leads, even if it’s into trouble.”

Sarah smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. I know your mother is very relieved to have you here to take over with the children. You are staying, aren’t you?”

Did everyone think that? She supposed she owed the teacher an answer, even if she didn’t owe one to Steve Windham.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be here. My career is in New York.” That sounded sufficiently vague, when the truth was that she longed to get back to her own life, even though duty demanded that she be here for the moment, at least.

“You might find something to do here in Prairie Springs,” Sarah suggested. “I know it isn’t really my business to interfere, but I’m concerned about the children. They’ve been through a rough time, and it would be a shame to uproot them at this point.”

It was impossible to take offense at Sarah’s comments, given the warmth and concern that shimmered in her blue eyes. And she’d brought up a good point—one that Caitlyn hadn’t really considered. Caitlyn’s original plan had been to take a month’s leave, help her mother and the children recover from their grief and see them settled financially, and then get back to her own life.

That plan had seemed reasonable back in New York, when she was scrambling to get time off work, turn her cases over to someone else and get here in time for the funerals. Now that she was on the spot, things weren’t so clear-cut.

“I can’t practice law here. I’m not licensed in Texas, and I haven’t even considered that. I have to admit, though, that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to find something part-time to do while I’m here.”

She hadn’t imagined finances would be an issue when she’d taken a leave of absence, but then, she’d never tried to do without her salary before. She hoped she’d be able to continue working on some cases from here, but it had been made clear to her that the clients of Graham, Graham and Welsh expected and would receive personal attention. At least they were willing to hold her position open.

No one could live on her salary in Manhattan, pay off college and law school loans and still have much left over anyway. When she made partner, it would be another story, but in the meantime, her finances were tight. And her mother had given up her job at the gift shop when Carolyn and Dean were deployed to the Middle East.

The twins had the funds that had come to them on their parents’ deaths, of course, but if possible, Mama wanted that put away for their futures.

“You know, I believe I might know just the thing.” Sarah looked pleased at the prospect of helping. She turned to her desk and scribbled something on a piece of paper. “I volunteer at Children of the Day. It’s a local charity that helps victims of war—does wonderful work. As it happens, they’re looking for a care coordinator right now, and I believe the schedule would be flexible. With your legal background, you’d probably be a big asset.”

“I’m not licensed in Texas—” she repeated, but Sarah pressed the paper into her hand.

“Just talk to Anna Terenkov, the director. I’m sure this is all going to work out fine.”

Sarah was a lot more optimistic than she was, since at the moment she didn’t see anything working out fine. Still, if she could get the job, the money would be welcome. Her expenses in New York continued unabated while she kicked her heels in Texas.

Not for long, she reminded herself. She’d do all she could for her mother and the twins, since Carolyn had named her as their guardian, but in the end, her life was back in New York.



Steve worked his way methodically through cleaning up the paintbrushes. He’d volunteered two hours of painting to the elementary school this afternoon, but he had a meeting back on post at four. The group he’d formed to get soldiers to volunteer for community projects was going strong now, and he owed it to the people he’d talked into it to show that he’d be right in there volunteering his own time and effort.

From where he stood, he could see through the windows of the kindergarten room. Amanda and Josie, chestnut heads together, whispered over their papers, while their aunt Caitlyn sat talking with Sarah Alpert.

He worried about the twins, as he worried about all those under his care who had suffered losses. The twins had each other and their grandmother, and now they had their aunt. Was Caitlyn up to the responsibility she’d inherited from her sister?

He studied her, frowning a little. He remembered her well, which was odd in itself since she’d been three years behind him in school. Maybe she’d stood apart because of the fierce ambition she’d shown at an age when most girls were too busy giggling over boys, pop stars and clothes to give much thought to their futures.

Now—well, Caitlyn Villard had grown into a beauty, if you liked women who were sophisticated, even icy. She was tall and slim, carrying herself as if there wasn’t a doubt in her mind as to who she was and where she was headed.

The hair that had once been flaxen was now a rich golden brown, tousled in a way that he suspected was style, not nature. Her eyes hadn’t changed, though. They were a warm hazel with glints of gold when the sun caught them.

Well, the important thing wasn’t how she looked, although she was certainly worth a second glance from any man. What was crucial was whether she could take care of those children.

She’d probably used that single-minded determination of hers that he remembered to take the big city by storm. From what he could see, apparently she’d made it, despite all the obstacles there must have been for a little girl from Texas with no family backing or money.

But now she was faced with even harder barriers in learning how to be a mother to two precious children. Did she have that in her? He didn’t know.

His thoughts automatically went inward in prayer. Lord, You know what You have in mind for Amanda and Josie, and for their aunt. If there’s a way in which I can help, please use me.

When he looked again, the door was opening and Caitlyn and the twins were coming out.

Amanda spotted him first and let out a squeal. She came running toward him, waving a welcome, with Josie scurrying behind.

He bent to hug them, holding them away from his paint stains and grinning at their enthusiastic greeting. “Hey, you two. Y’all been having some fun in the kindergarten room with Miss Sarah?”

“I made a picture and printed my name,” Amanda said importantly. “And I said my numbers, too.”

“How about you, sugar?” He tugged gently at a strand of Josie’s hair. Josie always had to be coaxed a little. “Did you print your name, too?”

She nodded. “I printed Josie,” she said. “Not Josephine.”

“Girls.” Caitlyn had reached them by now, and she clearly didn’t know what to make of this. “What are you doing?”

He smiled at her. “The twins and I are old friends.” He caught Amanda’s hand as she reached for the paint can. “That’s wet, Amanda.”

Amanda pouted for a fraction of a second before turning to her aunt. “We love Chaplain Steve,” she said. “He’s our friend.”

“Chaplain Steve?” Caitlyn’s voice accented the title, and annoyance danced in her eyes. “Are you really a minister?”

He shrugged. “Guilty.”

“You knew I thought you were a painter.” Her lips tightened.

Obviously Caitlyn didn’t like being fooled. “Sorry.” Truth to tell, he felt a little embarrassed that he hadn’t been up front with her. “I did know what you were thinking, but you looked so disapproving I couldn’t resist teasing you just a mite.”

Faint color came up on her cheeks. “I wasn’t disapproving. It’s nothing to me what you do.”

“Come on, now,” he said. “Tell me you weren’t thinking that I’d failed to live up to my potential, like Mrs. Clemente used to say in trigonometry class.”

Josie tugged at his sleeve. “What does potential mean?” She said the word carefully.

“It means doing everything that you’re able to do,” Steve answered.

“Oh.” She seemed to be storing the definition away for possible future use.

“As I recall, your father was a chaplain, wasn’t he?” Caitlyn had herself in hand now, and she asked the question with just the right degree of polite interest.

“That’s right. I guess I could have been assigned most anyplace, but I requested Fort Bonnell, and here I am. I’ve taken over the Fort Bonnell Christian Chapel, but I had to redecorate, since Daddy took all his fishing pictures with him when he and Mama retired to Wyoming.”

“And you know the twins how?” Her voice expressed doubt.

“They’re part of my job, as it happens, ministering to those of our Fort Bonnell community who’ve suffered losses.”

He managed to keep his mind from straying to his own loss. “Not that these two adorable ladies aren’t more than just a job to me.”

“I see.” Her face had stiffened at the reminder of Carolyn and Dean, and he felt a pang of remorse for teasing her as he had. This couldn’t be easy for her.

“I’m sorry for your loss. It must be rough.”

“Yes.” She clipped off the word, as if reluctant to accept sympathy. “Well…” She managed a smile and extended her hand. “It was nice to see you again, Steve.”

He took her hand solemnly, a little amused. “Same here. But it’s a small town, Caitlyn. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Her smile was stiff. “Come on, girls. It’s time to go home.”

“Don’t want to.” Amanda pouted, looking dangerously near to stamping her feet. “I want to stay with Chaplain Steve.”

“We have to go.” Caitlyn held out her hand.

“No.” Now Amanda did stamp her foot. “I don’t want to.”

Josie took a step closer to him, clearly not knowing what to do at this open mutiny, any more than her aunt did. Caitlyn’s expression said only too clearly that she wasn’t prepared to cope with this.

He knelt next to Amanda, putting one arm reassuringly around Josie. “I’m afraid you can’t stay with me, Amanda, because I have to go to a meeting. And I’ll bet your grandmother is waiting to hear all about how you did at school, don’t you think?”

Amanda pouted a moment longer, as if reluctant to give up her grudge. Then she spun around, holding her picture up. “I’m going to show Grammy my painting. She’ll put it on the refrigerator.”

“Mine, too,” Josie said. “Mine, too.”

“She’ll put mine up first,” Amanda said, and darted toward the car.

“Mine, mine,” Josie shrieked, and ran after her sister.

Caitlyn seemed frozen to the spot for another instant. Then she hurried after them without a backward glance for him.

Steve watched them go, frowning a little. Those children were hurting, and he hurt for them. They needed so much. Was Caitlyn going to be able to provide that?

Or had Carolyn Mayhew made the mistake of her life when she named her sister as their guardian?




Chapter Two


Caitlyn knelt beside the bathtub, wondering how two five-year-olds in a tub could so resemble a pondful of frogs.

Amanda bounced up and down on her bottom, sending a wave of soapy water sloshing toward her sister. Josie’s squeal echoed from the tile tub surround, and she scrambled backward.

“Easy, Amanda.” She caught each twin by a slippery arm. “Don’t fall back against the spigot. That would hurt your head.”

“I won’t.” Amanda bounced again. This time the water splashed Caitlyn’s sleeve to her shoulder.

“Hey!” Smiling in spite of herself, she splashed Amanda back. “No fair. I’m still dressed, not like you.” She tickled a bare dimpled elbow, eliciting a giggle from Amanda.

“I love my bath.” That might be the first thing Josie had volunteered since Caitlyn had been here. Usually she waited for a question before speaking, or echoed what her twin had said.

“What do you like about it?” Caitlyn put a plastic doll into a red boat and zoomed it toward her small, shy niece.

Josie managed a hint of a smile. “Giving my dolls ’ventures. They like that.”

“Good idea.” She let Josie have the boat. “You give your doll an adventure with the boat, while I wash Amanda’s hair.”

Josie nodded, smiling, but Amanda’s face puckered up at the suggestion. What now? Was it ever possible to get both of them happy at the same time?

“I don’t want my hair washed.” Amanda pouted. “You’ll get soap in my eyes.”

“No, I won’t.” Although now that she considered it, she wasn’t sure how you managed to shampoo a wiggly child without disaster. “Tell you what. You show me how Grammy does it, and I’ll do exactly what you say. You be the director, okay?”

Amanda considered that for a moment, and then she nodded. “But you do ’zactly like I say.”

It was a small triumph, but she’d take it. As she shampooed and rinsed, carefully following directions, her thoughts drifted back to the afternoon. Odd, running into Steve Windham like that.

His idea of humor had been more than a little annoying. On the other hand, his concern for the girls had been obvious. And she’d taken note of the way he’d so easily averted Amanda’s tantrum by focusing her on the future instead. She’d remember that technique for the next time Amanda rebelled. And there probably would be a next time. Amanda, like her mother, seemed born to test the boundaries.

Maybe Steve had kids of his own. The thought startled her. It was certainly possible, although he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. And exactly why she’d taken note of that, she wasn’t sure.

With one little girl shampooed and one to go, she turned her attention to Josie, who submitted without argument to her shampoo. In a few minutes she was wrapping two wiggling bodies in one large towel.

“Oh my goodness, I’ve got an armful of eels,” she declared, rubbing wet curls. “That’s what Grammy used to say when she dried us.”

“She says that to us, too,” Amanda said. “Now pajamas, and then we’ll tell you just what you hafta do to put us to bed.”

She nodded, spraying Josie’s shoulder-length hair with conditioner before attempting to get a comb through it. This was her first attempt at getting the girls to bed on her own, and she needed all the help she could get.

Finally they were into pajamas and snuggled one on each side of her in their pink-and-white bedroom for a story. She held them close, a little surprised by the strength of affection that swept through her.

If anyone had asked, a few weeks ago, if she loved her nieces, she’d have said yes, but it would have been an abstract emotion. She’d loved them but she hadn’t known them. Now all that was changed.

“‘The Princess and the Pea,’” she read. “I remember this story. Let’s see if it’s changed any since I was a little girl.”

Amanda giggled. “Stories don’t change, Auntie Caitlyn. We read one book and then one Bible story from our Bible Storybook that you gave us for Christmas, and then we say prayers.”

She opened her mouth to say she hadn’t given them a storybook for Christmas, and then shut it again. She’d taken the easy way out and sent a check, and someone, probably Carolyn, had taken the time to buy and wrap presents and put her name on them.

Amanda’s innocent assumption made her feel—well, thoughtless, at the least. Surely she could have taken the time to find out what they wanted and buy the gifts on her own.

That faint uneasiness lingered through the stories and prayers. Caitlyn tucked matching pink quilts around them and kissed their rosy cheeks.

“Auntie Caitlyn?” Amanda was frowning. Had she gotten some part of the routine wrong?

“What is it, sweetie?” She smoothed still-damp hair back from Amanda’s face.

“Are Mommy and Daddy happy in Heaven?”

Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. A theological question was out of her realm. She wasn’t the person to ask. Chaplain Steve, he’d do a better job of this.

“Well, I think so. Have you talked to Grammy about it?”

She nodded. “She says God takes care of them in Heaven, so they must be happy.”

“Well, Grammy must know,” she said, grateful to have squeaked through that tricky spot.

“But how can they be?” Tears shone in her eyes. “How can they be happy without us?”

She was totally out of her depth now, and her throat was so tight she couldn’t have gotten an answer out even if she’d been able to think of one.

Fortunately her mother was there, coming quickly into the room to bend over the bed. She must have been waiting in the hall, giving Caitlyn a chance to finish the bedtime routine.

“Of course they miss you, darling.” Mama’s voice was soft. “And that might make them sad sometimes. But they know you’re happy and that we’re taking care of you, so that makes them happy, too. You see?”

Amanda nodded slowly. Caitlyn suspected the little girl wasn’t entirely satisfied, but at least she wasn’t asking any other questions that Caitlyn couldn’t answer.

Hugs and kisses all around, and then she and her mother were out in the hall, leaving the door open just a crack. “Not too much chatter, now,” Mama called as they started down the hall. “You had a big day today.”

“Thanks for coming in when you did, Mama.” She put her arm around her mother’s waist. “I didn’t know how to handle that.”

Her mother gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’ll learn by experience. That’s the only way anyone ever learns to be a parent.”

Something in her rebelled at that. She wasn’t a parent, and she didn’t intend to be here long enough to learn. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that, but she closed her lips on the words.

Her mother looked tired, too tired for the sixty-five Caitlyn knew she was. Grief, she supposed, combined with the stress of caring for two lively five-year-olds for the past six months.

“Carolyn and Dean shouldn’t have expected you to take over when they were deployed,” she said. “It was too much for you.”

Mama shrugged. “It’s made me realize I’m not as young as I used to be, that’s for sure. Taking care of two five-year-olds is a Texas-size job. But you do what you have to do. It’s not as if they had any other options.”

She wanted to say that they should have been responsible enough not to get in that position to begin with, but her mother wouldn’t hear anything critical of Carolyn.

Well, maybe her mother wouldn’t admit it, but in Caitlyn’s opinion, Carolyn had been too quick to dump her responsibilities on other people.

“Listen, would it be any use if I hired someone to help out a little? With the girls, or the house, or whatever?”

Her mother looked surprised. “That’s sweet of you, darling, but I’ll be okay now that you’re here. The two of us can handle things.”

There it was again—that assumption that she was here to stay.

“You’re not planning to go away, are you?” Her silence must have lasted too long, and her mother looked so dismayed that she couldn’t possibly do anything but deny it.

“Not now, but I have a job possibility at Children of the Day. I’m supposed to go for an interview with the director tomorrow. It’s only part-time, but I don’t want to burden you—”

“Children of the Day? That’s wonderful.” Her mother interrupted her with a hug. “You’ll love it there. I’m so pleased.”

The hug strengthened. Caitlyn hugged her mother back, but the feel of her mother’s arms was like fragile, yet strong threads tightening around her, trying to bind her to this place.



“Welcome to Children of the Day. I hope you’ll enjoy your work here.” Anna Terenkov, the founder and director of the charity, rose from behind her desk after the briefest of interviews, extending her hand.

Caitlyn blinked for a second before she stood to shake the woman’s hand. She’d met executives who prided themselves on quick decisions before, but Ms. Terenkov had them beat by a mile.

“Ms. Terenkov—”

“Please, call me Anna.” A smile banished her businesslike expression. “We’re all on a first-name basis here, volunteers and staff alike.”

“Anna.” She tried to grasp a situation that seemed to be sliding away from her. “Isn’t there anything else you’d like to ask me about my qualifications?”

The director waved that away. “I’ve seen quite enough to know you’ll be an asset to the organization. And, frankly, we’re in need of a capable person to step into the care coordinator position. That’s one job I don’t want to lay on a volunteer, and our last coordinator had to leave quite suddenly.”

That sounded ominous. Anna seemed to read her expression and laughed.

“Nothing bad, I assure you. Her husband was transferred to a post in the Northeast, and naturally she and the children went with him.”

“He was in the military, I gather.”

Anna nodded. “Almost everyone in town has some connection to Fort Bonnell, in one way or another. Now—” she rounded the desk “—let me show you our facility and get you started.”

She hadn’t imagined being hired that quickly, let alone starting, but she followed the petite blond human dynamo out of her office for a whirlwind tour of the building.

Children of the Day was housed in a gracious slate-blue Victorian on a quiet side street just off Veterans Boulevard, Prairie Springs’s main drag. Sheltered by shrubbery and a white wrought-iron fence, the charming Victorian looked more like an elegant private residence than a nonprofit foundation.

“As you can see, the first floor is dedicated to the organization.” Anna waved at the volunteer who was seated behind a desk in the welcoming lobby area. “The kitchen downstairs is for the staff and volunteers, so don’t hesitate to use it. My mother and I have our private apartment upstairs.”

“Is your mother involved with Children of the Day also?”

Anna smiled. “My mother does a little bit of everything, all with great enthusiasm. You’ll see where I get my energy when you meet her. She also runs the grief center at Prairie Springs Christian Church. I think she mentioned that your nieces are involved in her children’s program.”

Something else Caitlyn hadn’t known. She’d have to ask her mother about that. At least the twins were apparently getting some professional help.

Anna led the way to the next room. “This is Laura Dean. Laura, meet Caitlyn Villard, our new care coordinator.” Anna paused by a desk in the room behind the lobby.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caitlyn.” The slim young blonde flashed a welcoming smile. “Especially since I’m sure you’re going to take some of the load off my shoulders.”

“Laura is officially our secretary, but like everyone else, she does whatever needs to be done. And she does it very well, by the way.”

Anna was out of the room before Laura could respond, but Caitlyn guessed Laura was probably used to that.

“This will be your office.” Anna ushered her into a high-ceilinged room with windows looking onto a side lawn. It had probably once been a modest parlor, with its small fireplace and beautiful molding, but was now furnished with a computer desk and file cabinets. Several maps were pinned onto a bulletin board on the wall.

Anna waved at the small blue pins that dotted the map. “Those are places where we have programs. We provide food, shelter, medical care, educational programs—anything we can to alleviate the suffering of those touched by war.” Anna’s passion was impressive.

“It’s a big job.”

“A huge job,” Anna agreed. “Those projects are ongoing, and they’re already established and running well. What I need you to do is coordinate the kinds of services we provide for individual special needs that arise frequently.”

“I see.” She didn’t, but surely she was going to get more explanation than that.

Anna bent over the desk for a moment and brought up a file on the computer. “Here’s the project I want you to start with. There’s very little information yet, but you’ll read everything we have.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Ali Tabiz was orphaned and injured in the fighting. We’ve been contacted by Dr. Mike Montgomery, a surgeon with the army currently stationed in the Middle East. We’ve worked with him for a while. Little Ali may need heart surgery, and Mike wants him brought here to see a pediatric cardiac surgeon. That’s your job.”

So she was supposed to get a minor foreign national out of a war-torn country and bring him to Texas for treatment. She couldn’t even begin to ask the questions that flooded her mind.

“Don’t panic,” Anna said. She pulled out a black three-ring binder. “Our last coordinator was very organized, and we’ve done this sort of thing many times. She’s outlined a step-by-step process with all the things you’ll need to do.”

Caitlyn grasped the binder as if it were a life preserver and she were sinking under the waves. “Good. I’m going to need it.”

“You’ll be fine. And I’m just across the hall. Come to me with any questions.” She frowned slightly. “Dr. Mike is usually in touch via e-mail, but sometimes things get pretty hot where he is.”

“You think that’s why you haven’t received any other information?” That must mean that the child was in a dangerous place, as well.

“Probably, but we won’t waste time. You can start by alerting the medical facilities and personnel we normally use that we’ll have a case coming their way. Once we know more, you can get the details nailed down.”

Someone tapped on the frame of the open door, and Caitlyn turned to see Sarah, the kindergarten teacher. “Anna, you’re needed on the phone. It’s some CEO who wants to make a donation and won’t talk to anyone else.”

“Okay, I’ll take it. Never turn down an eager donor.” Anna was gone in an instant, leaving Caitlyn with her mouth still open to say goodbye.

She looked at Sarah, who stood there smiling, probably at her expression. “You didn’t tell me she was a whirlwind.”

Sarah laughed. “How else would she get everything done? Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it.” She waved and disappeared, leaving Caitlyn staring blankly at the computer screen.

She found she was still clutching the binder. All right. She could do this. She needed a job, and here it was. She wouldn’t let anything keep her from succeeding at it.



An hour later she was feeling far more confident. As Anna had said, her predecessor had been organized.

She’d already made several calls, and she’d been pleasantly surprised by her reception. The physicians and hospital administrators had obviously worked with Children of the Day in the past and were perfectly ready to jump into the new project. As soon as she had some more information—

That was the sticking point. No one could do anything until they learned a bit more about the case. She checked the e-mail inbox again, feeling a flutter of excitement at a message from Dr. Montgomery. Maybe this was what they needed.

She clicked it open, and a small face appeared on the screen. This, clearly, was Ali Tabiz.

Big brown eyes, short dark brown hair, an engaging smile. According to the brief statistics attached, the little boy was five, the same age as the twins, but he looked—what?

She grappled for the right word. He was small, maybe suffering from the shortages that went along with having a war in your backyard, and there was a bruise over one eye. But he didn’t look younger than the twins. In a way, he looked older, as those dark brown eyes seemed to hold a world of sorrows.

“Cute kid.” The voice, coming from behind her without warning, startled her so much that her hands jerked from the keys, and she swung around. It was Steve Windham again, this time in uniform. Somehow it made him seem even taller, his shoulders even broader. Or maybe that was because she was sitting down.

She shoved her chair back, standing. “Steve, hello.” She noted the bars he wore. “Or should I say Captain Windham?”

He shook his head, giving her that easy smile. “I’m Chaplain Steve to everyone. Since we’re old friends, I’m just Steve to you.”

She wouldn’t, she decided, exactly call them old friends. “First the elementary school, now Children of the Day. Are you following me?”

His grin widened. “Afraid not. Not that that’s not a good idea.”

Maybe it was safest to ignore the comment. “What are you doing here?”

“I coordinate all the military volunteers who work with Children of the Day, so I’m in and out of the foundation office all the time.”

“Painting at the elementary school, volunteering here, counseling the grieving—surely a chaplain’s not expected to do all that.”

“All that and more.” He shrugged. “An army chaplain has a surprising amount of autonomy. His or her duties are what he or she makes of them, outside of regular services. I follow where the Lord leads me to minister, and He led me here.”

Which meant she’d be tripping over him, apparently. He’d been right to remind her. Prairie Springs was a small town.

He nodded toward the computer screen. “Is this little guy your first project?”

“Yes.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “It’s not a state secret, you know. Tell me about him.”

“Look, Steve, I’m not trying to kick you out, but I have work to do. I just don’t see why you need to know about my project.” It was her project, after all.

“If that child has to be brought to the States from a war zone, then I need to know.” Now his smile had developed an edge. “I also coordinate any military involvement in Children of the Day projects—which probably will mean getting that child out.”

“Sorry.” That didn’t sound very gracious, did it? “I am sorry. I didn’t realize that you were involved to such an extent.”

He shrugged. “Now you know. So, are you ready to tell me about him now?”

“Of course.” She managed a smile. “I don’t know much yet. His name is Ali Tabiz, and he’s five years old. He was referred to Children of the Day by a Dr. Mike Montgomery.”

He nodded, his eyes intent as he studied the face on the screen. “I know Mike. If he wants our help, he has good reason.”

“I suppose so, but he hasn’t gotten back to us with much information on the boy’s condition yet. It’s apparently a heart problem that may need surgery. Oh, and we do know he’s an orphan.”

“Poor little guy.” Steve reached out and touched the screen. “What do you say we send him a message?”

“A message? Well, I suppose we could ask Dr. Mike to tell him something.”

“We can do better than that.” He nodded to her desk chair. “If you’ll let me use your computer for a minute, that is.”

In an effort to seem more congenial, she slid out of the chair and watched as he started an e-mail. But the letters that appeared on the screen were Arabic.

Her mouth was probably hanging open in surprise. “How did you do that?”

He grinned. “All the computers here are equipped to switch to an Arabic alphabet. It’s necessary, given where the greatest need is at the moment.”

“But how do you know Arabic?” Steve seemed to be full of surprises.

He shrugged. “I have a knack for languages, I guess. And I was in the Middle East in an earlier offensive.”

“I didn’t know.”

An awkward silence followed, making her wonder what war had been like for a chaplain.

He frowned at the screen. “Since he’s only five, he’s probably not reading much yet, so let’s keep it simple and say we love him and want to see him.”

“That sounds good.” It did, and she was touched that Steve had thought of something that hadn’t even occurred to her.

“There we go.” Steve addressed it to the doctor’s e-mail address and hit Send. “Mike will see that he gets it and that somebody reads it to him.”

“I wish the doctor would get back to us. There’s not much more I can do until I hear from him.”

“You can trust Mike to do what’s right. We’ve worked with him before. He’s one of the good guys.”

She was beginning to think that Steve was one of the good guys, too. But that didn’t mean she wanted him taking over her job.

“I have a few more things to do before I go home, so if you don’t mind—”

He nodded, getting up from the computer. “I know. It’s your job, not mine.”

“Well, yes, I guess that’s what I mean. I’d like to show my new boss I can do it.”

He stood watching her for a moment, and she almost thought there was a shadow of disappointment in his blue eyes.

“Not alone,” he said. “Nobody around here is a solo act. It takes all of us to make this work.”

“I’m sure cooperation is important, but—”

“But you’re staff, while I’m just a volunteer?”

“I didn’t mean that.” She wasn’t sure where this tension between them had come from.

He shrugged and started for the door, but before he reached it, he turned back toward her. “Keep me posted on Ali, will you?”

“All right.”

He didn’t seem convinced that she meant it. “Don’t forget that I’m your military contact, Caitlyn. You’d better get used to working with me.”




Chapter Three


Steve went in the side door of Children of the Day, hearing a hum of conversation from the lobby. Something must be going on, as it always was, but with a little luck he might be able to corner Anna for a private chat.

He had some information for her that might be helpful, but that wasn’t his primary reason for turning up. The truth was that he was curious to see how Caitlyn was working out.

She’d been with COTD for all of two days, but if he knew Anna, that was plenty of time for her to come to a conclusion about Caitlyn.

He’d been bothered since their conversation about Ali. Maybe Caitlyn was dynamite at her position in New York, but Children of the Day ran on cooperation, lots of cooperation from all sorts of people. And Caitlyn had given off unmistakable vibes that she preferred to do everything all by herself.

Or maybe he was just the one person she didn’t want to help her. That was always possible.

He tapped lightly on the French door to Anna’s office. It was standing ajar, as always, so that she could keep tabs on everything. With her passion and energy, it was no wonder the charity had grown from a small local effort to a world-respected organization in only five years.

He popped his head around the edge of the door. Anna was talking on the phone while staring intently at her computer screen, but at the sight of him, she smiled and waved him in.

In a moment she’d hung up the phone and turned her full attention to him. “Steve, how nice. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Well, since tomorrow’s the Fourth of July, I thought I’d best come by today. Have you heard anything more from Dr. Mike?”

“No.” Anna’s brow furrowed. “I expected to by this time.”

“I figured you might be concerned. The fact is that there’s been a heavy offensive in Mike’s area. I’d guess that’s keeping him busy right now.”

Anna’s blue eyes filled with concern. “Is there fighting near his field hospital?”

He hesitated for a second, but Anna would guess the worst if he didn’t level with her. “It sounds that way. It may be a day or two before things settle down.”

“If they settle down.” Anna rubbed at the line between her brows. “We both know how bad that can be. And that poor little boy. He could be right in the thick of things again.”

He nodded. Anna was right—they did both know how bad war could be, especially on the innocent ones. “He’s lost both his parents, and he’s facing possible surgery. It seems like the kid ought to get a break soon.”

“Well, he will if we can do anything about it.” Anna’s jaw tightened with her characteristic determination.

“Shall we pray for them?” He held out his hand, knowing her answer would be yes.

Anna nodded, putting her hand in his and closing her eyes.

“Dear Father, we know that You know better than we do what’s happening right now with Mike and all those within his care, including little Ali. We ask that You surround them with Your love and protection and bring them through this trial to safety. Amen.”

“Amen,” Anna echoed. She released his hand. “Thank you, Steve.”

He shrugged that off. “I should let you get back to business, but I did want to ask how Caitlyn’s settling in. Is she working out all right?”

Anna’s face lit with a smile. “As well as I knew she would the minute I met her. She’s the kind of person you can just give a project and know she’ll run with it.”

“That’s good.” Although it didn’t answer his main concern about her.

“It’s just too bad she probably won’t be staying in Prairie Springs for long.”

He blinked, staring at Anna. “What do you mean? Did she tell you she’s leaving?”

“Not in so many words.” Anna shrugged. “But I can read between the lines as well as anyone. The most important thing in Caitlyn’s life is her career, and that’s back in New York. Obviously she’s here to do her duty to her family, but I’d expect her to head back East just as soon as she can work things out.”

“You’re sure about that?” The question came out more sharply than it should.

She spread her hands. “I’d love to keep her, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Though he didn’t say it out loud, he was appalled at the news.

How could Caitlyn even think of uprooting the girls? They needed the stability and security they had right here, among friends. And her mother, Betty, couldn’t possibly manage by herself.

It sounded as if his concerns had been justified. It looked as if the bright, ambitious girl he’d once known had turned into a coldly driven career woman without any heart.



Caitlyn had forgotten how intensely Prairie Springs celebrated the Fourth of July, but it was certainly all coming back to her now. Texans were just naturally patriotic, and Texans living next to a military base doubled the patriotism. The twins were determined to enjoy every minute of the celebration, and so far, they seemed to be.

They’d already watched the parade and eaten their way through hot dogs and sweet corn and cherry pie, but at least they’d found a table near the river, where there was a bit of a breeze.

It had been a good day, but Caitlyn had to admit that the heat was getting to her. She’d thought New York in the summer was hot, but it was nothing compared to Texas. The heat hadn’t bothered her that much as a kid, but now it was draining every bit of energy.

She pressed a paper cup of iced tea against her forehead, wishing she could just pour the tea over her head, as she watched the twins go around and around on the carousel. She smiled and waved to the girls as they passed her, thinking she and Carolyn had probably ridden those same painted wooden horses a long time ago.

Amanda was waving one arm like a rodeo rider as her palomino went up and down. Next to her, Josie clung to the pole of her stationary horse as if she feared it would throw her.

Worry flickered through her. Her mother felt Josie’s timidity would resolve itself if they left her alone. Mama certainly had more experience than she did in dealing with children, so why did it still tease her, seeming to say she should do something?

The tempo of the carousel music changed, and the horses slowed their movement. The twins were out of her view, their horses now on the far side of the carousel.

Apprehension grabbed her. The carousel was going to stop with the twins about as far from her as they could be. Would they have sense enough to stay put until she reached them? She should have reminded them before the ride had started.

The music tinkled to a stop, and people began to pour off the carousel, even as others started to climb on. She struggled against the crowd of cheerful kids and adults, trying to spot the girls.

It was irrational, wasn’t it, to feel so panicky because they were out of her sight? She couldn’t seem to help it, and she couldn’t get there fast enough.

Finally the crowd cleared, and she hurried past one painted horse after another. There was the palomino Amanda had ridden, with the stationary chestnut beside it. They were both empty.

She turned, searching the immediate area with her gaze. Where were the children? They were her responsibility—she should have gone on the carousel with them. They could be scared—Josie might be crying.

And then she saw them walking toward her. Steve had each one by a hand, and Amanda was clutching a bunch of balloons.

She raced toward them, reaching them and catching both girls in a hug. “Where were you? I was scared when I couldn’t find you.”

Steve grasped her hand warmly. “They’re fine. I’m sorry if they scared you.”

“Scared is the right word.” She took a breath. “What happened? Why didn’t you stay where you were and wait for me to come?”

“I saw a man with balloons.” Amanda’s tone said she knew perfectly well she’d made a mistake and wasn’t going to admit it.

“That’s where I caught up with them,” Steve said. “I happened to walk past the balloon man.”

Caitlyn knelt so that she was eye to eye with the twins. “Listen, guys, you scared me. Don’t ever do that again, okay?”

Amanda’s lower lip came out, but after a moment she nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

Josie nodded, too, looking close to tears.

“Good.” Caitlyn hugged them. Had this been her first parenting success? At least Amanda hadn’t argued. And thanks to Steve, they were safe.

She rose, blinking back a stray tear as she looked at Steve. “Thank you. If you hadn’t seen them before they wandered even farther—”

“They wouldn’t have gone far,” he said comfortingly. He turned to the girls. “Hey, do you know how to make balloon animals?”

They shook their heads solemnly.

“Well, if I can just borrow a balloon, you’ll see.” He took one of the long balloons from Amanda’s hand. “I wonder what I can make.” He twisted the balloon in his hands, frowning a little. Finally he held it out.

“A giraffe.” The twins shouted the word in unison.

He handed it to Josie, and she looked enchanted.

“One for me,” Amanda said quickly. She gave him another balloon. “A giraffe, please.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see how it turns out.” He twisted the balloon in his strong hands, frowning at it intently.

“What’s wrong? Can’t guarantee another giraffe?” Caitlyn asked softly.

He grinned. “I hate to promise what it’s going to be. It usually looks like an animal, but not necessarily what I think it’s going to be.”

Fortunately for all of them, this one turned out enough like a giraffe to make Amanda happy, and the two girls decided to make their giraffes dance together to the music of the carousel.

“You’re a success.” Caitlyn smiled at him. “And we’re lucky you came along when you did.”

“Not so much luck,” Steve said. “I ran into Betty and she asked me to join y’all for dessert and to watch the fireworks. I said I’d round you up.”

“I see.” It seemed she was destined to see Steve wherever she went. As he’d said, it was a small town. “Well, I’m still glad you came when you did. I was starting to panic. I’m beginning to appreciate every gray hair Carolyn and I caused our mother.”

She said it lightly, but judging by Steve’s expression, he wasn’t taking it that way.

“Not easy being a parent, is it?”

“I’m not a parent. I can’t ever take their mother’s place.”

The words came out without her thinking them through, but she realized they were true as soon as she said them. She’d do what she could, but she couldn’t take Carolyn’s place.

Steve stopped, turning to face her. “Is that really what you think?” He was frowning as if he’d taken her measure and found her lacking in some way. “Because that’s what those children need, and you might just have to sacrifice what you want to give it to them.”

Caitlyn could only stare at him in disbelief, as anger welled up in her at his stinging criticism. “I appreciate your interest, Chaplain Steve. But my family life is not really any of your business.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she grabbed the girls’ hands and stalked off in the direction of the picnic grove.



It was all very well to have the last word, Caitlyn decided, but it lost its effect if you had to be with that person for another two hours.

She’d expected Steve to beg off watching the fireworks with them. That’s what she’d have done, if their positions were reversed.

But he hadn’t. He’d come back to the picnic table with them and eaten a slab of Mama’s pecan pie and drunk a glass of lemonade, chatting all the while as if there weren’t a trace of strain between them.

Now, he helped her spread a blanket at the riverbank—the ideal spot, her mother declared, for watching the fireworks.

“Thanks.” She smoothed out a corner and sat down, glancing at the twins running among the blankets with a couple of friends, each one waving a flag or a glow stick. “Here’s a spot for you, Mama.” She patted the space next to her.

Her mother shook her head. “I was just talking to Maisie Elliot, and she’s going on home now. I think maybe I’ll ride along with her. I’m just a mite tired.”

“Mama, if you’re tired, we can go home now. We don’t have to stay for the fireworks.” She started to get up, but her mother was already shaking her head again.

“No, no, the girls would be so disappointed. You know how they’ve been looking forward to staying up for the fireworks. Y’all stay. Steve will keep you company, I know.”

“I don’t think—”

“I won’t hear of you leaving,” Mama said flatly. “Now just you do as I say, Caitlyn Ann.”

“If a parent uses both names, you’d better give up,” Steve said. His smile seemed genuine.

She sank back down reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. We’ll see you at home, then, Mama.”

Her mother blew a kiss and started off to find her next-door neighbor. Caitlyn watched her go, and her heart clenched.

“She’s aged,” she said softly, nearly forgetting who she was talking to.

“It’s been pretty rough on her.” Steve leaned back on his elbows, his gaze intent on her face. “Even before Carolyn and Dean died, I could see the toll it was taking on her. She wouldn’t admit it, but taking care of those girls full-time was beyond her.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She let the exasperation show in her voice. “Have you ever tried to stop Betty Villard from doing something she thought was her duty?”

“I know what you mean.” He smiled. “Texas women are tough.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been away too long to qualify, I’m afraid.”

“Never say that.” The laughter seemed to leave his face. “Caitlyn, I need to apologize to you for what I said earlier. I overstepped my bounds.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You’re a hard case, you know that? I’m saying I’m sorry.”

Much as she hated to admit it, that lopsided grin of his affected her. All the annoyance she’d been clinging to slid away.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I know you care about the girls. As for me—I’m still just feeling my way with them.”

“It’s pretty different from your life in New York, is it?”

“I’ll say. I probably don’t see a child from one month to the next there.”

“No married friends with babies?”

She shrugged. “I work long hours. When I’m off, I guess I try to catch up on my sleep.”

“That sounds a little lonely.”

“Lonely? I don’t have time to be lonely. The firm isn’t happy unless they’re getting sixty hours a week out of us.”

He smiled. “Like I said. Lonely.”

“You don’t understand.” He probably couldn’t. She didn’t know what the army expected of a chaplain, but it couldn’t be anything like the expectations of her firm. “That’s what it takes in my line of work. You put in outrageous hours, knowing that the payoff at the end is worth it.”

She sounded defensive, she realized. That was ridiculous. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation of the life she’d chosen.

The military band struck up a march just then, and she was glad. It would save her from another argument with Steve.

“Hey, Amanda! Josie!” Steve called. “Come on, the fireworks are going to start any minute.”

They came scurrying and dived onto the blanket. “I love fireworks,” Amanda said. “They’re my favorite thing next to chocolate cake and going to the movies.”

“This girl’s got her priorities straight.” Steve scooped her onto his lap. “Look right out there over the water. Maybe you can be the first one to spot the fireworks.”

Josie snuggled against Caitlyn. “I don’t like the loud bang,” she said confidingly. “I’m going to put my hands over my ears.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Caitlyn patted her. “We’ll hold on to each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

The feel of that little body snuggled up against her was doing funny things to her heart. Lonely. Steve thought she’d been lonely.

She’d denied it, of course, but there might be a grain of truth in what he’d said. Maybe her life back in New York was a bit out of balance.

“There!” Amanda pointed to a dark rocket soaring upward. It exploded into a shower of white stars that arced downward toward their reflection in the water.

That was only the beginning. One rocket after another shot up to the oohs and aahs of the crowds along the riverbank. Amanda stared, mesmerized, and Josie alternated between watching and hiding her face in Caitlyn’s lap.

Caitlyn smoothed Josie’s fine, soft hair. She wouldn’t have believed it a month ago, but it really was nice, sitting here, watching the awed looks on the children’s faces.

As for Steve—she turned so she could see his strong profile, outlined against the water. It wasn’t so bad having him here, either.

The last spectacular display seemed to go on and on as the band soared to a crescendo. Then, finally, the lights and sound faded away. It was over.

Before she could move or speak, she heard a sound drifting over the dark water, silencing the audience. It was a lone bugle, playing “Taps.” The notes hung, sharp as crystal, in the still air.

Caitlyn’s heart clenched painfully, and a tear trickled down her cheek. The sound was inexpressibly sad and beautiful.

The final notes died away, and for a moment nobody moved, nobody spoke. From somewhere in the crowd there was a muffled sob.

Then Steve pushed to his feet and moved to kneel next to her.

“She’s asleep. I’ll take her, if you can manage—”

He stopped. Then he reached out, wiping an errant tear from her cheek with one large, warm hand. Her gaze met his, and for a moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Attraction twinkled between them, seeming as bright as the fireworks had been.

Then Steve sat back on his heels, looking startled. “I—” he began, and seemed to lose his train of thought. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I—I was saying that I’d carry Josie.”

Amanda tugged at his pant leg. “I want you to carry me.”

“But Aunt Caitlyn needs you,” he said. “She has to have a strong girl to carry one end of the blanket.”

Amanda’s shoulders straightened. She’d be the strong one, obviously.

He slid his arms under the sleeping child, carefully not looking at Caitlyn. It didn’t matter. She was aware of his every movement.

Was he as aware of her? Maybe it was better not to know. That flare of attraction—it was probably brought on by the emotion of the moment. It couldn’t be anything else.

She stumbled to her feet, helping a tired Amanda gather up the blanket and then taking her tiny hand. It was definitely time to go home, and she would not feel regret. She wouldn’t.




Chapter Four


Caitlyn’s stomach clenched a little as she headed toward Anna’s office. Being summoned like that in the hallowed halls of Graham, Graham and Welch was seldom a good thing. She hadn’t been at Children of the Day long enough to know what it meant with Anna.

She did a rapid mental review of her work. Everything she could think to do regarding the Ali Tabiz situation had been done, and until they received the specifics from Dr. Mike she couldn’t do anything more. Could she? She wasn’t used to work situations in which the next step wasn’t clear-cut, and that made her nervous.

She paused for just a second at the French doors, which stood ajar as usual, tapped lightly and went in. Anna was at her desk, talking, but she waved her in, never missing a beat. Anna obviously had multitasking down to a fine art, which was probably essential in running a foundation like this one.

“Here’s Caitlyn now. Let’s see what she has to say about it.”

She went to the desk, realizing that Anna was talking with someone via her webcam. Anna pulled a chair over so that they could sit next to each other, and Caitlyn slid into place.

“Dr. Mike, this is Caitlyn Villard, our new care coordinator. She’s working on Ali’s case. Caitlyn, this is Major Michael Montgomery, usually known as Dr. Mike.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Caitlyn. Glad to have you on board.”

Even against the drab background of a cement-block wall, the man in scrubs had a vitality that transcended his obvious fatigue. His even features looked drawn, but his eyes sparkled with energy.

“It’s good to meet you, as well, Dr. Mike. We’ve been hoping for some additional information on your young patient.”

Dr. Mike grimaced. “I was sorry not to get back to you sooner. It’s been pretty hot around here.”

“We’ve been praying for you. But you’re okay? And Ali?” Anna asked.

“Fine, fine.” He glanced around, as if distracted. “I don’t have much time, since people are lining up behind me to talk to their folks back home. I’m going to e-mail you a detailed medical report that you can share with the docs you normally use, so I’ll just give you the main points now.”

“Good.” Caitlyn grabbed a pad from Anna’s desk in the event he thought of anything that wouldn’t be in the report.

“Ali was injured in the roadside bomb blast that killed his mother. At first glance his injuries seemed minor, but we soon realized his condition was more serious. A blow to the chest from the blast tore an abnormal opening between the two lower chambers of the heart—a ventricular septal tear. We’ve confirmed the diagnosis with an EKG and a sonogram, and I’ve consulted by phone with a cardiologist.”

That sounded serious. Images of Amanda and Josie ran through her mind. “Will we need to schedule immediate surgery?” Caitlyn asked.

“Possibly not, but it’s a tricky situation.” His frown deepened. “The cardiologist feels that the tear could heal on its own. If so, he’ll quickly regain his strength. But if it doesn’t, if the heart begins to fail, the boy needs to be where he can have open heart surgery quickly.”

“So we need to get him back here as soon as possible,” Anna said.

“Right. There’s just no place here that has either the equipment or the pediatric cardiac surgeons who can do the job.”

“We’ll do our best.” Caitlyn scribbled rapid notes to herself. “How is he doing otherwise?”

“His other injuries were minor, fortunately. Of course he’s grieving for his mother.”

Her throat tightened. Like the twins, Ali was yet another child robbed of a mother’s love by war.

“He’s a cute kid.” Dr. Mike’s face creased in a tired smile. “Half the medical team has fallen for him already, and some of the chopper pilots have practically adopted him. We have to chase them out of his room so he can get enough rest.”

“We’ll make sure he gets plenty of attention here, too,” Anna said. “Caitlyn will arrange for a complete workup with a pediatric cardiologist in Austin as soon as he arrives.”

Caitlyn nodded. At least the child wouldn’t have to have surgery the minute he got here. She’d gone over and over the process to have the army fly a foreign national to the United States for treatment. She didn’t anticipate too much difficulty.

“What relative will accompany Ali to the U.S.?” Her pen was poised over the pad.

“None, unfortunately. He doesn’t have a soul left over here.”

“But…” She paused, her mind racing through all the regulations she’d read. “Legally I don’t think we can bring a child who’s a foreign national into the country without a guardian to give permission.”

Anna’s eyes clouded with concern. “We probably can’t even get him out of there without it. Mike, you know the rules. There must be somebody who’s willing to be responsible for the child—a distant cousin, an aunt or grandmother, anyone.”

“Here’s the thing.” Dr. Mike leaned forward, as if he’d like to be in the room with them. “Ali’s mother was married to an American serviceman who died when the boy was three. I’m still working on finding out all the details. The mother lived in a fairly remote village, and she probably used her family name for the child to protect him from discrimination.”

“Are you sure they were actually married?” Anna asked the question Caitlyn had been thinking but hesitated to ask.

“I’ve seen the marriage certificate—it was with her things. The father’s name was Gregory Willis.” He shrugged. “So, the boy’s an American citizen. That has to make a difference.”

Caitlyn rubbed her temples, as if that might make her mind work a little faster. This was not the sort of legal issue that ever came up at her corporate practice in New York, and she certainly wasn’t an expert on family or immigration law.

“Will you send us every bit of legal documentation you can find about the parents’ marriage and the child’s birth? I’m sure we’re going to need it to prove that Ali is an American citizen.” She at least knew that was the place to start.

“Will do.” Mike glanced around. “Gotta go. I’ll send everything I can ASAP. Good luck.”

Before they could say goodbye, he was gone. Anna sat back in her chair, letting out a long breath. “Well. That’s a new one.”

“I was hoping you were going to say that COTD had dealt with a situation just like this before,” Caitlyn said.

“No, I’m afraid this is uncharted territory. It looks as if you have your work cut out for you.”

And while she was struggling to get up to speed, halfway around the world the clock might well be ticking for a small child who’d already lost far too much.



“Aren’t we there yet, Aunt Caitlyn?” Amanda, in her booster seat in the back, kicked her feet against the driver’s seat.

Caitlyn gritted her teeth, making a mental resolution to switch their seats so that Josie would be directly behind her. “Almost.”

She glanced at the directions her mother had written out to the Fort Bonnell pool where the twins had swimming lessons. This was her first visit to the post, and it was far bigger than she’d realized. Everything about coming here seemed strange, including the stop she’d had to make at the visitors’ center to pick up a pass even to drive onto the post.

She’d had to leave the Children of the Day offices just when she felt she was getting a handle on the search for Ali’s parentage, but her mother had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and she’d promised to take the twins for their lesson.

“I’m going to swim underwater today,” Amanda declared. “Hurry up, please.”

“Me, too,” Josie echoed.

She certainly wasn’t going to “hurry up” beyond the speed limit, not with all these military types around. She passed a unit marching along the roadway, and a tank rumbled past her in the opposite direction.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen so many uniforms in one place before. Funny that she’d never, so far as she remembered, come on the post when she was growing up in Prairie Springs.

Beige-colored buildings stretched down one straight street after another, seeming to go on and on as far as the horizon. Most of them bore signs in some sort of army shorthand that didn’t mean a thing to her. Goodness, Fort Bonnell was a small city on its own, dwarfing Prairie Springs in comparison.

She passed the Fort Bonnell Christian Chapel on her right, one of her mother’s landmarks. Steve’s church. She’d called him there earlier, but he hadn’t been in. She needed to involve him, as military liaison for COTD, in the search for Ali’s father.

She’d confessed to Anna that she was totally out of her depth in dealing with the legal issues of the case. She hated feeling unprepared for any case she took on, but she had to be honest. Her legal background made her at least know the questions to ask, but not the answers.

Anna had been reassuring, referring her to a local attorney, Jake Hopkins, who offered pro bono services to the charity. Unfortunately, Hopkins hadn’t been in either when she’d called, so she’d left a detailed message on his machine, along with her cell phone number. Surely he’d be able to unscramble this. Maybe the answer was something perfectly simple.

She spotted the pool ahead and turned into the parking lot to cheers from the girls. She glanced at her watch. They were on time, but barely. She had a lot to learn about balancing work and kids. How did people do this every day?




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