Meow…meow…. Micah laughed lightly as she hurried toward the door and the pitiful noise.
“Poor baby.” She opened the door a few inches, enough to allow a multicolored cat to enter. “Mrs. Poe puts you outside every morning, rain or shine, doesn't she, Patches? How about some milk?”
Micah poured the liquid into a saucer, and then set it on the kitchen floor. Stroking the cat's damp fur, she heard that familiar purring begin. “There you go, babe. That should make you a little happier, but you're going to get fat having two breakfasts every morning. I know Mrs. Poe feeds you well.”
The morning paper cluttered the table where Micah had been reading it and eating toast, but one glance at the clock told her that the mess would have to wait to be straightened up until evening.
“Hurry, Patches.” Gathering her umbrella and books, Micah started for the door with her landlady's cat scurrying after her. It paused to rub against Micah's ankles and nearly knocked her down in the process. “Out the door, Patches.” She gave the cat a gentle shove with her foot, forcing the feline into the steady spring shower. “Sorry to rush you, but I've got to go,” she said and turned the key in the lock, twisting the knob to be certain it had locked securely.
“See you later, kitty.” Unexpected sadness rained down on her as surely as the light drops. She was twenty-eight years old, and all she had to come home to every evening was Patches…a cat that didn't even belong to her. Surely there must be something, someone more for her out there. Why didn't the Lord show her His plan for her life? she wondered again as she had done many times. She already knew what she couldn't do, but the whole city wasn't filled with attorneys, was it? Why couldn't she meet a pastor, a math teacher or a truck driver…?
Micah stacked her books on the front seat. Or why couldn't she be happy alone? She had been content with her life until recently. When had that changed? She leaned into the car, her eyes coming to rest on a painting placed there earlier. The little country church with a backdrop of a summer-blue sky—the same gentle blue of Rob Granston's eyes.
Suddenly, she knew when the contentment had vanished.
“This job fair is a wonderful idea, Angela,” Micah said to the young, dark-haired woman who taught in the next classroom.
“It's an annual event. I know the kids are rather young to absorb much about the different careers, but it's never too early for them to start considering the possibilities for their future.”
They walked toward the gymnasium. The children had been ushered into the gym immediately following their lunch period to view the Career Day displays set up there. Posters, pamphlets, booths with displays and even a miniature firehouse filled the area. Several firefighters, military personnel, a chef with baked goods to sample, a secretary with modern business equipment to demonstrate, a nurse and an airplane pilot were present, along with a martial arts expert who was practicing on mats in the middle of the floor. Numerous other occupations were represented, as well.
“I have three children,” Angela stated as they entered the crowded gym. “And they all, as young as they are, know what they want to be when they grow up. Nathan, my ten-year-old wants to be a doctor, David, my middle child, loves airplanes, so he's going to be a pilot, and Heather, well, she wants to be a teacher like her mommy.”
Micah was about to ask Angela a few questions about her children, when she noticed him. At school. In the gym. Smiling and walking toward her. She could hardly believe her eyes. But after reaching her, he leaned over and kissed the other teacher on the cheek.
“Hi, Rob. Thanks for coming,” Angela greeted him.
Micah stood speechless. How many times would she encounter this man? And what was he doing kissing Angela?
“Glad to help out, little sister,” Rob said as he studied Micah's confused expression. “So we meet again, Miss Shepherd.”
“Yes…I…” She remained at a loss for words, and he was looking at her as if it didn't matter.
“I am the official representative of the legal profession today. My sister couldn't con a judge into coming, so she settled for me.”
“Now don't tell lies, Robert. You know you were my first choice,” Angela commented as the three of them started walking through the tables and displays. “I'm surprised you and Micah know each other.”
“Yes, it seems rather strange to keep running into each other. Are you sure you haven't been following me, Miss Shepherd?”
“I could accuse you of exactly the same thing, Mr. Granston,” Micah quickly remarked.
“Perhaps, rightfully so,” he answered quietly, his disturbing gaze never wavering.
“So, tell me, Robert. How do you plan to compete with martial arts demonstrations and samples of the chefs cooking?” Angela inquired.
“Speaking of cooking,” Micah interrupted, “thank you for buying lunch the other day. It was very kind of you.”
“You're welcome,” he replied and then turned his attention to his sister's question. “I've set up a courtroom.” They moved to Rob's area of the floor and viewed what appeared to be a mock trial in progress. “We've selected twelve impartial jurors, after explaining the words impartial and juror to them. And we have a judge, a prosecutor and a defense attorney. I put everything on hold until I could find you. I thought you'd like this.”
Angela was beaming. Obviously she did like it very much.
“What's the judge's name?” Rob asked the small, blond boy in the judge's seat.
“Sam Oleson.”
“The Honorable Sam Oleson presiding over this trial,” Rob announced. “And, ladies, we need an alleged criminal. Would either of you care to do the honors?”
Rob looked only at Micah as he spoke, and Angela laughed at the lack of attention. “I guess you're it, Micah.”
“No, thanks,” she replied, stepping back. “I have some other exhibits to attend to. I don't have time to be tried and convicted.”
The children responded enthusiastically. “C'mon, Miss Shepherd. Be the bad guy!”
“The ‘alleged’ bad guy,” Rob clarified as he reached for Micah's hand.
“No,” she stated quickly as she moved away from Rob and the “judge's” bench. “Angela will make a better bad guy for you.”
“Thanks a lot!” came Angela's response. “What a compliment.”
“We want Miss Shepherd! We want Miss Shepherd!” the children chanted.
“Hold it down, guys.” Rob said as he raised his hand to quiet down his group. “Miss Shepherd looks a little too honest to play a criminal.”
“I'll do it,” Angela intervened, apparently sensing Micah's nervousness.