A Season for Grace

A Season for Grace
Linda Goodnight

The moment they met, social worker Mia Carano knew Officer Collin Grace was the perfect mentor for a runaway teen in her care.After all, the boy looked up to him, and desperately needed a role model. Though a childhood spent in foster care had hardened Collin, Mia would reveal the caring man she knew was inside. After all, breaking through his gruff exterior would fulfill a boy's Christmas wish…and maybe even her own.

It didn’t matter that the hamburger joint was littered with uniformed police officers. Mia knew it was him the moment he walked in the door.

Officer Collin Grace sure stood out in a crowd. Brown eyes full of caution swept the room once, as if calculating escape routes, before coming to rest on her. She prided herself on being able to read people. Officer Collin Grace didn’t trust a soul in the place.

Mia fixed her attention on the policeman. With spiked dark hair, slashing eyebrows, and a five-o’clock shadow, he was good-looking in a hard, manly kind of way.

He came over and jacked up an eyebrow. “Miss Carano?”

A bewildering flutter tickled her stomach. “Yes, but I prefer Mia.”

He slid into the booth, and didn’t ask her to use his given name. She wasn’t surprised. He was every bit the cool, detached cop. This wasn’t going to be easy.

LINDA GOODNIGHT

A romantic at heart, Linda Goodnight believes in the traditional values of family and home. Writing books enables her to share her certainty that, with faith and perseverance, love can last forever and happy endings really are possible.

A native of Oklahoma, Linda lives in the country with her husband, Gene, and Mugsy, an adorably obnoxious rat terrier. She and Gene have a blended family of six grown children. An elementary school teacher, she is also a licensed nurse. When time permits, Linda loves to read, watch football and rodeo, and indulge in chocolate. She also enjoys taking long, calorie-burning walks in the nearby woods. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com, or c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

A Season for Grace

Linda Goodnight

A father to the fatherless, defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families.

—Psalms 68:5–6

Special thanks to former DHS caseworker Tammy Potter for answering my social services questions, and to my buddy Maggie Price for helping me keep my cop in the realm of reality. Any mistakes or literary license are my own. I would also like to acknowledge the legion of foster and adoptive parents and children who have shared their insight into the painful world of social orphans.

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Prologue

The worst was happening again. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Collin Grace was only ten years old but he’d seen it all and then some. One thing he’d seen too much of was social workers. He hated them. The sweet-talking women with their briefcases and straight skirts and fancy fingernails. They always meant trouble.

Arms stiff, he stood in front of the school counselor’s desk and stared at the office wall. His insides shook so hard he thought he might puke. But he wouldn’t ask to be excused. No way he’d let them know how scared he was. Wouldn’t do no good anyhow.

Betrayal, painful as a stick in the eye, settled low in his belly. He had thought Mr. James liked him, but the counselor had called the social worker.

Didn’t matter. Collin wasn’t going to cry. Not like his brother Drew. Stupid kid was fighting and kicking and screaming like he could stop what was happening.

“Now, Drew.” The social worker tried to soothe the wild brother. Tried to brush his too-long, dark hair out of his furious blue eyes. Drew snarled like a wounded wolf. “Settle down. Everything will be all right.”

That was a lie. And all three of the brothers knew it. Nothing was ever all right. They’d leave this school and go into foster care again. New people to live with, new school, new town, all of them strange and unfriendly. They’d be cleaned up and fattened up, but after a few months Mama would get them back. Then they’d be living under bridges or with some drugged-out old guy who liked to party with Mama. Then she’d disappear. Collin would take charge. Things would be better for a while. The whole mess would start all over again.

People should just leave them alone. He could take care of his brothers.

Drew howled again and slammed his seven-year-old fist into the social worker. “I hate you. Leave me alone!”

He broke for the door.

Collin bit the inside of his lip. Drew hadn’t figured out yet that he couldn’t escape.

A ruckus broke out. The athletic counselor grabbed Drew and held him down in a chair even though he bucked and spat and growled like a mad tomcat. Drew was a wiry little twerp; Collin gave him credit for that. And he had guts. For what good it would do him, he might as well save his energy. Grown-ups would win. They always did.

People passed the partially open office door and peered around the edge, curious about all the commotion. Collin tried to pretend he couldn’t see them, couldn’t hear them. But he could.

“Poor little things,” one of the teachers murmured. “Living in a burned-out trailer all by themselves. No wonder they’re filthy.”