The door swished open, and she turned, expecting to see someone from Children’s Protective Services. Instead, thankfully, Noah entered the room, but his expression didn’t bode well for Rusty and Lindsay.
Noah came to Cara’s side, observing the three siblings talking in lowered voices. When he turned his back on them, he cleared his throat and said, “I got them to let me take them to Stone’s Refuge for the night at Hannah and Jacob’s house.”
“Good.”
“But it’s only temporary. All three cottages are full. As it is, they’ll be sleeping on cots.”
“So the refuge isn’t an option for them?” Cara glanced at the children, Lindsay’s face buried in the crook of Adam’s arm while Rusty glared at Noah and her.
“Not at this time. Even if it became available, I can’t see three places opening at the same time. And they wouldn’t be able to stay in the same cottage.”
“What are the chances of them being sent to the same foster home?” Cara lowered her voice even more, feeling the heat of Rusty’s anger from across the room.
“The supervisor I know at Children’s Protective Services didn’t give me much hope of keeping them together.”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, the weariness she’d fought for the past few hours starting to catch up with her.
“Can you drive me back to the restaurant to pick up my car and then take them to the farm? I’ll follow you.”
“Yes, of course.” Another quick glance toward the three siblings cemented her determination to do what she could for them. They had been through so much. And she owed Adam for what he had done the night before. “How do you suggest we get them to leave?”
“I was gonna ask you that. You’re the expert.”
“Expert! Whatever made you think that?”
“You have a child. I don’t.”
“Well, for your information, nothing has quite prepared me for this kind of situation.”
His grin, with his two dimples emerging, encompassed his whole face. “I know for a fact you’re a quick study. You picked up waitressing in no time.”
She planted her hand on her waist. “Just in case you haven’t figured it out, this is entirely different. I—”
“We aren’t leaving.” Rusty cut into their conversation.
Cara faced the children, Lindsay holding Adam’s hand and Rusty gripping hers. A united front.
The nine-year-old pointed toward the couch. “We can sleep there.”
Lindsay drew herself up as tall as possible. “Yeah!”
“They need to stay with me.” Adam’s eyelids drifted closed. Then as if he realized he was falling asleep, he opened them wide. “Dad will…be back. I’m to take care…of them until…he returns which…” His voice faded as his head sagged to the side, his eyes shut again.
“He needs to get his rest if he’s going to get better.” Cara quickly covered the distance to the kids and placed her hand on Rusty’s shoulder.
He jerked away. “No, we’re staying!”
Lindsay backed up against the bed, gripping her stuffed animal so tightly her knuckles whitened. “I don’t wanna leave! I don’t wanna leave!” Tears coursed down her cheeks.
Cara knelt in front of the little girl, her own tears close to the surface at the heart-wrenching sounds. “Adam needs rest to get better. I promise you two I’ll bring you back tomorrow to see him.” She smoothed the child’s dirty hair back from her face. “I never break a promise. You will see Adam tomorrow.”
“In the morning?” Lindsay asked between sobs. “First thing?”
“Yes.” Cara looked over at Rusty watching them.
“He’ll need to know you two are being taken care of while he has to stay here and get well.”
Pouting, Rusty gnawed on his thumbnail.
Cara straightened and presented her hand to Lindsay. “Ready to go?”
The little girl nodded, grasping Cara’s forefinger.
On the drive to the farm, in the rearview mirror, Cara saw Lindsay slump against her brother and fall asleep. But the whole way to Stone’s Refuge, Rusty kept his gaze trained out the side window, staring into the darkness, his jaw set in a firm line.
The closer she came to Laura and Peter’s farm where Stone’s Refuge was, the wearier Cara became. She tightened her hands about the steering wheel to keep her arms from dropping to her lap as though they were deadweight. Noah’s headlights following behind her car comforted her as they left the brightness of the city.
She pulled onto the gravel road that led to the three cottages that housed the foster children and Hannah and Jacob’s home. The lights up ahead beckoned her with the promise of hope.
Father, please find a home for Lindsay, Rusty and Adam to live together. I have a feeling they have gone through a lot in their short lives. They need stability. A place to call home. A place to put down roots. In Jesus Christ’s name. Amen.
Cara parked in front of a two-story house, which was ablaze with lights even though it was well after two in the morning. The minute she climbed from her car, the door opened and both Hannah and Jacob came outside.
Noah lifted Lindsay into his arms and carried her up the steps to the porch with Rusty reluctantly trailing behind the pair. Cara took up the rear, watching as Hannah and Jacob welcomed Noah and the children.
I want a home. I want stability, too, Father. Is this the place for me or should I move on? Show me Your will.
Hannah stayed behind the others and welcomed Cara. “It’s good to see you again. Laura made me promise to call her the second y’all arrived. She’s been worried with everything that has happened lately.”
The mention of the past thirty-six hours caused Cara to falter. She grasped the doorjamb and steadied herself.
“Go on home. I can take it from here. You look beat.” Hannah practically blocked Cara’s entry into the cottage.
“That’s not a suggestion,” she added in a no-nonsense voice.
When Cara entered Laura’s house at the other end of the farm a few minutes later, thankfully her friend didn’t meet her at the door, wanting to know what had occurred with Adam. She wasn’t up to any explanations. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
In the den Cara pulled the hide-away bed out of the couch and collapsed onto the covers without removing her clothes. Sleep immediately whisked her away, and the next thing she knew someone was shaking her awake.
“Mom, you need to get ready for church.”
Cara opened her eyes to a room bright with sunlight and stared up at her eight-year-old son, who loomed over her. Tiny frown lines creased his forehead.
“What time is it, honey?”
“Almost eight.”
She held her groan inside, but she wanted to roll over and pull the covers over her head. Five hours sleep wasn’t enough.
“Why are you dressed to go to work? I thought you were off today,” Timothy asked, pointing to her wrinkled shirt and pants.
Cara forced a smile to her lips, cutting off the yawn building in her. “I’m off. I’ve got to help Laura this afternoon with the barbecue at Stone’s Refuge. Before