A Family for Faith

Faith’s face flashed into his mind, almost as if she’d spoken the words. He shook his head to clear the thought. “I appreciate the offer, Hannah. Maybe another time.”

As soon as they hung up, he stomped to Chelsea’s room and banged on the door, making the hand-painted name plate bounce and rattle.

“Come in,” she said as sweet as sugar.

He marched inside and found her sitting on her bed reading a teen celebrity magazine. “Don’t try to get me dates.”

“Who, me?” Her face radiated pure innocence from the frilly pink pillow shams.

It was enough to defuse his anger. But embarrassment still made the skin on his face feel a size too small. “Don’t be playing matchmaker.”

Chelsea scuttled over to the edge of the bed and looked up at him with an innocent expression. Her hair was shiny and her cheeks rosy. “Hannah sure is pretty. And not dating anyone.”

“Doesn’t matter. Now, behave. Dinner’s in ten minutes.”

She reached out with her small, soft hand and touched his arm. “Just think about it. You never know what God may have planned for you.”

Chelsea’s faith—and her ability to talk about it openly—always threw him off balance. But God? What did God have to do with this lark?

He left Chelsea to her magazine and strode to the phone in the kitchen. He hesitated for a second, hand on the receiver, but knew he had to act now. When Faith answered, he said, “You were in on this, too, weren’t you?”

“On what?” she asked, almost as innocently as his daughter. “Oh. Hannah’s call. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not ready for this. And I can’t replace Tina, anyway.”

Silence. But then Faith sighed. “I know.”

For some reason, white-hot anger smoldered beneath the frustration. How could anyone dare to try to fix him up with a woman? “Tina was everything to me. The best wife, best mother. Anyone else would pale in comparison.”

Faith was silent. But he could hear her breathing, so he knew she was still there.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she finally said with an edge of irritation, almost as if he’d hurt her feelings.

“So please discourage Chels from fixing me up, okay?”

“I’ll certainly try. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up without saying goodbye.

Could he have really hurt her feelings? Had she been as excited to fix him up as Chelsea had been?

Well, it didn’t matter. She’d get over it. Besides, there were more important things to deal with than his love life. He had a possible prowler roaming the streets. And it looked as if Chelsea was going to keep badgering him about the party, forcing him to play the mean dad.

He couldn’t think about women when he had a town and a daughter to protect.

Chapter Four

Gabe was more than ready to go to work the next morning after listening to Chelsea whine from the moment she woke about having to spend the day with Kristy, her babysitter. Apparently, since beginning summer school, Kristy spent more time studying than entertaining Chelsea.

Now Chelsea had decided Faith was more fun. Well, maybe so, but he couldn’t keep imposing on his neighbor.

So he’d settled on giving Kristy money to take Chelsea to Faith’s café that day. He felt sure Kristy would do what he asked, but he began to wonder if he’d done the right thing by hiring her that summer, knowing she was enrolled in college courses.

Poor Chels. No wonder she was going stir-crazy.

Gabe tried not to stress about it as he headed to the station. But finding the pastor waiting in his office didn’t help. “What can I do for you, Phil?” He gestured for the man to be seated and went around to sit behind his desk.

Phil, who always seemed to be in motion with more on his to-do list than he could possibly fit in a day, sank into the chair and looked at Gabe with tired eyes. “Gabe, I need your help. The kids of the church need your help.”

Somehow Gabe didn’t like the sound of that. “You know I’m grateful to you and the church for your support. But I don’t see how I can help.”

“Audra and Gary are moving, and I need new youth counselors. It would give you extra time with Chelsea, too.”

He sensed there was more to it than a need for counselors. “So what’s the bottom line?”

“I plan to find several workers to share the load. If you could just help me with Sunday-night programs, I’d be grateful.”

“And that’s it?”

Phil’s expression grew serious. “Actually, no. You used to work your schedule so you had Sunday mornings off. I’ve noticed you work almost every Sunday nowadays. I hope for Chelsea’s sake you’ll try to go back to the way it was before Tina died.”

Of all the topics Gabe had hoped to avoid. His collar suddenly felt too tight. He stretched his burning neck but didn’t get any relief. “Well, going to church was difficult after she died.”

“I know. It always is in the aftermath. But I think it’s time now. I know Tina would want you to bring her daughter to church.”

It was a punch in the gut. And he wanted to defend himself, saying he’d been making sure Chelsea attended. But he knew that wasn’t the same. Hadn’t he felt guilty every time he dropped her off? Lord, are You working here—hitting me with this conviction?

Saying the prayer felt like pushing open a rusty, unused door. But it was good. And a bit of a relief.

A huge sigh escaped.

Phil laughed. “Hard to refuse, huh?”

“You know it is.”

“Then do it. Take Sundays off. Attend worship. Work with the youth. I promise the kids will bless you so it won’t feel like a chore.” He leaned forward and held Gabe’s gaze. “You’ll be a fantastic role model. Those two Pruitt boys who ride with Chelsea are from a bad home situation. They need a good man to look up to.”

Parker, who’d had his arm around Chelsea yet acted polite.

“Nice, Phil. Pull the role-model card, why don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, it’s just the truth.”

And the truth will get you every time. “Okay. I’ll try to schedule time off. At least on Sunday evenings for the kids.”

Phil stood and slapped Gabe on the back. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you. And hey, if you can work it out, try to come to the youth fundraising dinner next week.”

After writing down the details, Gabe said he’d try, then he walked Phil outside.

“I’m sorry if I’m pushing or butting in where I’m not wanted,” Phil said. “But I’ve felt God leading me to talk with you about this.”