A Family for Faith

She cut a glance in Chelsea’s direction. “Unless what?”

“Unless you help me.”

Oh, boy. Even though she and Gabe had formed a bit of a friendship over coffee, he’d always been private where family matters were concerned. He would not want her butting in. “I’m sure he’s doing what’s best for you.”

“I don’t think he’d be so stubborn if my mom were here. So maybe if you could sweet-talk him about the makeup…and about letting me hang out at the café…” She turned and pretty much begged with her big brown eyes.

Faith shouldn’t get involved. She had her own family mess to deal with and might cause a bigger one with Gabe’s family.

But poor Chelsea. It did sound like Gabe was being overly protective. And she knew personally how that could backfire. He could certainly stand to give Chelsea a little bit of freedom. “If I get the chance, I’ll see what I can do.”

Chelsea squeezed Faith’s arm and squealed. “Thank you!”

Of course, Faith had heard the stories of how Chelsea nearly died in the auto accident that killed her mother. She’d spent months in the hospital and rehab. Faith would probably be protective, too, in that situation.

Just thinking about it brought back memories of worrying about her son when he moved two hours away from her former home in Augusta to live with his dad and stepmom in Atlanta. Will they love him as much as I do? Will they discipline him like he needs? Will they protect him?

What utter helplessness…and rejection. Pain she never wanted to feel again.

When she and Chelsea arrived at the house, Gabe stood on his front porch with his arms crossed in front of him. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry.” Faith’s watch showed a mere ten minutes after nine. “Had to get the café ready for the morning.”

“Understandable. But Chels, you should have called.”

“I would’ve if I weren’t the only person on earth without a cell phone.” She smirked at him and, judging by his scowl, it was not a good thing to do at the moment.

“The café has a landline. Now go on in and get ready for bed.”

“Man, I was just teasing.” With all the earlier joy wiped off her face, she stomped inside and slung the door shut with a bang.

Let it go, Faith. Don’t butt in.

But she’d promised Chelsea. “Gabe, may I offer a suggestion?”

She couldn’t read his expression as he recrossed his arms. For a second, she thought he would refuse.

“I guess,” he said instead.

He didn’t exactly look receptive, but she plowed ahead anyway. “Lots of kids Chelsea’s age are allowed to do things with their friends. Could you maybe consider giving her a little wiggle room?”

“If you give an inch…”

“She’s a good girl.”

“And she’s also strong willed.”

Faith knew a whole lot about strong-willed children. She’d tried to raise one and had struggled the whole time. “You can’t be too hard on Chelsea or she might rebel.”

Memories of Ben storming out of the house—and stumbling back in—brought a wave of nausea. Who was she, a total failure at motherhood, to give advice?

He stared into her eyes as if he was thinking it over. But then the staring went on just a moment too long and she felt like she was being examined. Could he see through to the real Faith Hagin?

She tightened her ponytail as the chirping of the cicadas crescendoed in the otherwise silent night. She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to keep from fidgeting. “What?”

“I’m just trying to figure out if you wear makeup.”

Makeup? “I, uh, don’t usually wear makeup. It’s too much trouble when I have to go to work so early. But I did put on a little for church this morning.”

He stepped closer, gently took hold of her chin and tilted her face up so he could see better in the porch light. But his touch didn’t linger and he acted surprised to have done it.

She backed up a step. “I could teach Chelsea how to apply basic cosmetics—enough to appease her.” Faith’s face blazed with heat, especially where he’d touched her.

His dark brown eyes bore into hers, as if he still held her under a microscope. A searing blush crept to her chest and seemed to squeeze her heart.

He finally blinked and stepped back toward the door. “You’re a natural beauty. I don’t see much difference between most days and Sunday.”

His matter-of-fact declaration made her heart skip a beat or two.

Before she could put two coherent words together, he shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I’m not going to give on the makeup issue.” Scattered thoughts—he thinks I’m a natural beauty?—ricocheted around in her head. But she managed to refocus on Chelsea. “She’s almost a teenager, Gabe. You’ll have to start letting go eventually.”

He straightened up into his big, bad Chief of Police stance. “She’s my daughter. I know what’s best for her.”

And she’d thought she’d known what was best for her son. She’d been very protective of him, too. Trying to make sure he didn’t go down the drinking-and-partying path his dad had gone down many years before. But her controlling had pushed Ben in the opposite direction.

For some reason, she needed to make Gabe understand. “Yes, you do know what’s best. But sometimes, knowing best doesn’t matter. If we smother them and don’t give them room to become independent, we set them up to make bad decisions.”

He studied her through squinted eyes, this time with suspicion. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Yeah. I’d been left by my dad and my husband and thought if I worked hard enough I could hang on to my son. But it pushed him right into a group of friends who were an awful influence.”

She snapped her mouth shut before she revealed more. The townspeople knew Ben lived with his dad and that he was too busy with sports to come visit. But she’d never shared with anyone the details of her son’s problems in middle school, about his begging to live with his dad in Atlanta—about how he thrived once he moved there. When she moved to Corinthia a year ago to be closer to Ben, it was also to get away from the years of strange looks from former friends, to get away from the sideways glances. What’s wrong with Faith that her son did so poorly in her care, then had a complete turnaround when he got away from her?

“I’m sorry, Faith. I didn’t realize all you’ve been through,” he said. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

She’d promised Chelsea she’d try to talk to him and she had. Duty fulfilled. “Okay, then. Good night.” She hurried down the porch stairs and along the front walk. By the time she reached the grass between their houses, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hold up a second, Faith.” When Gabe reached her, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, I’m sorry. I appreciate your offer to help. I do. But…” He looked at his feet. At the sky. At her house. “I know you’re right about Chelsea. In my head, I know it. But in here—” he thumped a fist on his chest “—I can’t go there yet.”

Her heart ached at the look of pain on his face. “Children can do that to the best of us.”

“Yeah.” He rocked back on his heels. “I guess I actually could use your help. Some female guidance for Chelsea since she’s been pushing for independence. I’ve got to do something. I can’t let her…” His voice hitched.

Why, Lord? Why get me involved in this? She wished she could simply tell him good luck and turn away. But as if God Himself were forcing the words out of her mouth, she said, “What can I do?”

The breath huffed out of him and his tense expression eased. He laughed. “I have no idea.”

His smile ravaged her already tender nerves. She’d always thought he was handsome. Especially when in uniform. But seeing him in angst over his young daughter sent his attractiveness to a whole new level.