A Family for Thanksgiving (Love Inspired) Page 7

  Nothing was like he thought it would be. He was almost afraid of what the next days would bring.

  Chapter Five

  Maya flipped on the overhead light. “You can’t hide in here forever.”

  Clay threw one arm over his eyes. “I’m not hiding, I’m sleeping.” At least he had been.

  He’d used fatigue as an excuse to hang out alone all the previous day but apparently it wasn’t going to fly two days in a row with Maya.

  “You’re going out to see Jesse today.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, you are. Do you want me to go with you?”

  “What time is it?” He glanced toward the window. It was barely light outside.

  “It’s just after seven and don’t change the subject. Do you want me to go out to the ranch with you?”

  “What I want is for you to turn off the light and go away.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Maya said briskly. “Rise and shine or I’ll sic the kids on you.”

  He lowered his arm to glare at her. “I’m up. I’m up. How about a little privacy.”

  Wearing a white T-shirt and an old pair of sweat pants, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position and rubbed his scalp with his fingertips.

  “Fine. But if you aren’t in the kitchen in fifteen minutes, I’m sending Layla in with orders to jump on the sofa, even if you’re still sleeping on it.”

  He was used to getting up early, but he wasn’t used to his baby sister bossing him around. He honestly hadn’t gotten much sleep. Mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Nicki. Her face intruded into his thoughts every time he closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to share that information with his kid sister.

  Instead, he asked, “Does Greg know how mean you are?”

  She laughed, a bright happy sound that made him smile in return. “Fifteen minutes.”

  Twirling about, she left the doorway and headed down the hall. The smell of bacon and cinnamon toast drifted in and made his stomach rumble. It was nice not having to cook over an open campfire for a change. It was nice not having to cook at all. Maya had turned into quite a good chef.

  “She’s not mean.”

  Clay looked up to see Tommy standing in the doorway, a mulish expression on his face, his little hands clenched into fists at his side. It was clear he was ready to defend Maya’s honor. Clay admired his attitude.

  “She’s not mean, but she has bossy down to a fine art. Does she tell you what to do?” Clay rose and stretched the kinks from his back. Maya’s family-room sofa wasn’t the worst place he’d slept, but it wasn’t the best, either.

  Tommy’s expression relaxed as he advanced into the room. “Maya talks to me like I’m a grown-up. She doesn’t yell at me like some of my foster moms did.”

  A knot of sympathy tightened in Clay’s chest. According to Maya the poor kid had had a rough life. “So, do you like it here?”

  Tommy strolled to the game table where a pair of action figures faced off against each. He picked them up and banged them together in mock combat. “It’s okay.”

  Clay pulled a shirt and a clean pair of jeans from his duffel bag while keeping one eye on the boy. “Just okay?”

  Tommy shrugged. “For now.”

  “Are you planning on going somewhere?”

  “They move me around a lot.”

  Clay realized the little boy was afraid he’d be moved again and lose the family he was trying hard not to love.

  “I’ve done my share of moving around,” Clay said.

  Tommy looked up from his toys. “You have?”

  “Yup. Texas, Arizona, Utah, Montana, Canada.”

  “Did someone make you go all those places?”

  For years Clay had blamed Jesse for driving him away. He sighed heavily. “The truth is—no one made me go.”

  “I can’t go anywhere else until Charlie finds me. I check with Mr. and Mrs. Otis every day ’cause that’s where I was living before the tornado. I think that’s where Charlie will come looking for me, don’t you?”

  Clay didn’t know what to say.

  Thankfully, Maya’s called out, “Tommy, breakfast is ready.”

  Tommy laid his combatants aside and rose to his feet, a look of defiance on his face. “You don’t think Charlie is coming back. He will. You’ll see. He’s my best friend.”

  Clay stepped toward the boy and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think Charlie is lucky to have a friend like you.”

  The tension drained out of the child. “Some of the kids at school make fun of me. I don’t like it much.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll tell you a secret. I didn’t like school much, either.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I used to play hooky and go fishing.”

  “I like fishing. My dad used to take me.”

  Clay ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “Maybe one of these days we can go down to the river. I once caught a fifty-pound flathead catfish at the east end of the park.”

  “Wow!”

  “His head was this big around.” Clay bowed his arms to indicate the size.

  Tommy’s eyes widened. “For real?”

  “For real.” Clay nodded toward the door. “We’d better go eat before Maya throws our food out.”

  “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “She might. For real!”

  Tommy grinned as he hurried out the door.

  In the kitchen, Clay saw Layla was already at the table. Bright-eyed, she straightened when she caught sight of him. “Uncle Clay, sit by me.”

  “He’s gonna sit by me,” Tommy informed her.

  “He’s going to sit at the end of the table. That way he will be by each of you,” Maya announced, thumping down a plate loaded with bacon, scrambled eggs and toast in the place she indicated.

  Clay sat obediently, but winked at Tommy. He mouthed the word bossy when her back was turned and Tommy smothered a laugh.

  Setting her own plate on the table, Maya glanced between the two. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Clay and Tommy chimed in together as the phone rang.

  Maya wagged a finger between the two of them, but all she said was, “Eat.”

  After answering the call and talking quietly for a few minutes, she returned to the table. Sitting down, she clasped her hands in front of her. “Tommy, is there something you forgot to tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. He didn’t look up.

  “That was your teacher on the phone. You were supposed to give me a note about meeting with her today.”

  His silence was more telling than any excuse. He looked braced for the worst.

  Sighing deeply, Maya said, “Clay, could I impose on you to take Layla to preschool?”

  He perked up. Had he just been handed an excuse to see Nicki again? “Sure, I can do that. Does High Plains have more than one preschool?”

  “We have two. Layla attends the one at the High Plains Community Church. She has to be there by nine.”

  Maya rose and laid a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Gently, she said, “Why don’t we go in the other room and talk about why your teacher wants to see me.”

  Tommy laid his fork aside. “Okay.”

  When they left the room, Clay took a sip of coffee. “Layla, what’s your teacher’s name.”

  “Miss Nicki. Billy and Bobby Benton are in my class. I don’t like them.”

  “Why not?”

  “They laugh at me. Mommy found a baby for Miss Nicki. I want her to find one for me.”

  The abrupt change of subject baffled Clay for a second. “Honey, I don’t think your mommy found Kasey.”

  “Yes, she did,” Layla insisted. “After the tormadeo.”

  “Tornado.”

  “Yeah. Tormadeo.” Layla took a big bite of toast.

  Clay concentrated on finishing his eggs. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation about where babies came from with a three-year-old.

  When Maya and Tommy came back into the
room Clay noticed the boy looked much less apprehensive. Maya patted his shoulder. “Finish your breakfast and go get your backpack. We have to get going. Layla, if you’re finished eating, go get your shoes on. Clay, thanks for driving her. I’ll see you later and I’ll want to hear all about your visit with Jesse.”

  “I’ll give you a blow-by-blow.”

  “Very funny.”

  Maya dropped to her knees to exchange hugs with Layla and kiss her goodbye. “Remember, Miss Linda is going to pick you up after school today because I’ve got to run into Manhattan. Clay, be sure and tell Nicki that.”

  He saluted sharply. “Miss Linda will pick up. Got it. Do I need to know who Miss Linda is?”

  “She’s a neighbor. Nicki knows her.”

  Tommy reappeared with his backpack. “Guess I’m ready.”

  Maya grabbed her keys and her purse. “Okay, we’re off. Oh, wait. Layla’s booster seat is in my car. I’ll leave it out in the driveway for you, Clay. Can you disengage the passenger-side air bag in your truck?”

  “My truck is so old it doesn’t have a passenger side airbag.”

  She made a face. “Oh, well, that will work. Do you have my cell phone number?”

  “Somewhere.”

  “I forgot you don’t own a cell phone. That has got to change.”

  “Go. We’ll be fine.” He hoped.

  With his sister and Tommy finally out the door, Clay poured himself another cup of coffee. When he turned around, he found Layla standing in the middle of the kitchen watching him. She had her shoes on the wrong feet and a book under her arm. He glanced at the clock. It was ten till eight. He had an hour to kill.

  He pointed to her feet. “You’ve got your shoes on wrong.”

  “I like ’em like this.”

  “I think you should put them on the right way.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll help you.” He bent toward her.

  “No! No! I want Mommy to do it.” She scuttled out of his reach.

  He held up his hands. “Fine. You can wear them like that.”

  Scowling at him from across the room, Layla didn’t reply.

  Clay sat back on his heels and glanced at the clock. 7:53 a.m. Nine o’clock seemed a long way off.

  Nicki checked the clock on the schoolroom wall as she readied her room for her class. She had ten minutes before the horde began arriving. Although she enjoyed all her students, her morning class was her most challenging. Thankfully, she had no afternoon class today.

  The outside door opened and she turned around expecting to see Reverend Garrison. To her stunned surprise, she saw Clay walk in.

  “I brought Layla.” He indicated his niece who came in behind him, a pout on her face.

  Layla gave him a sour glare then turned to Nicki. “Mommy did find Kasey, didn’t she?”

  Nicki recovered her composure and smiled at Layla. “That’s right. Your mommy and Greg found her.”

  “See.” Layla made a told-you-so face at Clay.

  His puzzled expression was almost comical as he looked to Nicki. “You’re going to explain this to me, aren’t you?”

  “Layla, why don’t you put out the painting smocks for everyone,” Nicki suggested.

  “Okay.”

  When the child was occupied, Nicki turned back to Clay. “Greg and Maya were looking for Tommy’s dog a few hours after the tornado. They found Kasey near some abandoned cottages by the river. No one knew who she was. We still don’t.”

  “Wait a minute. Kasey isn’t your daughter?”

  Taken aback, she said, “I’m her foster mother.”

  “But I thought—” He clamped his lips shut.

  She stared at him in shock. “You thought what? That I had a child out of wedlock?”

  His eyes shifted to Layla. “It happens.”

  Nicki pressed her lips together as her annoyance drained away leaving her embarrassed. She knew his sister Maya’s story, knew how her fiancé had taken off when he discovered she was pregnant leaving her to raise their child alone.

  Clay looked at Nicki. “My mother used to say that all children are a gift from God. She would have loved Layla no matter how she arrived.”

  “Your mother was a special woman.”

  “She was, wasn’t she?” He suddenly seemed lost in thought.

  “Yes,” Nicki said softly. “I see her in Maya and in Layla, too.” Reaching out, she laid a comforting hand on his arm.

  He met her gaze. “I used to think she was just gone. Now, I know better. One day, I’ll see her again.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  The smile that lit up his face touched something deep inside her. He covered her hand with his own. “Thank you.”

  “Like this, Miss Nicki?” Layla called out as she laid a smock on each chair at the activity table.

  “That’s great, Layla.” Nicki withdrew her fingers. This wasn’t the time or the place to examine her attraction to Clay.

  Folding his arms, he said, “Are you telling me that no one has claimed Kasey in four months? That doesn’t seem possible.”

  Leaning back against her desk, she debated how much to share about what she’d gone through since the day Kasey came into her life.

  He settled himself on the corner of her desk beside her. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

  Tipping her head to the side, she asked, “What look?”

  “The look that says you can’t decide if you want to tell me what you’re thinking or not.”

  “That’s silly.” She stared at her shoes.

  “I used to know you pretty well.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Some things don’t change,” he said softly.

  She pressed her lips together. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t waltz back into her life and turn it upside down. She wouldn’t let his charm make her forget that he could be gone again at the drop of a hat.

  “Everything changes, Clay. If you don’t believe that you’re only kidding yourself.”

  Tipping his head back, he seemed to study the ceiling tiles for a long moment. Finally, he met her gaze and nodded. “Point taken. So, why do you think no one has come forward to claim Kasey?”

  “Oh, several people have claimed her. Once the news got out, the police and SRS had a number of people show up or call saying she was their child. But Kasey has a distinctive birthmark. A heart-shaped strawberry mark on her tummy. Only one person claiming to be her parent knew about it. That woman turned out to be someone who worked at the hospital where Kasey was taken after she was found. DNA tests ruled her out.”

  “What do the police think happened?”

  “At first they thought she must belong to someone who was traveling through the area and was caught in the storm. The entire town and surrounding area was searched. They even called in divers to search the river. When they didn’t find anything the authorities turned to the National Missing and Exploited Children’s database hoping to get a hit.”

  “I take it they didn’t find a match?”

  “They ruled out numerous possibilities through DNA testing. She isn’t in the system. As the weeks went by it began to look more and more like the tornado was incidental. The police think she may have been deliberately abandoned prior to the storm.”

  “Wow. High drama in High Plains. Will someone be able to adopt her?”

  “There’s no hard-and-fast rule for a case like this, but usually, if no family is found within four or five months, they try to place the child in a permanent home.”

  She looked at Clay. “I’m hoping to adopt her. I filled out the papers yesterday.”

  Nicki had shared that dream with only one other person, Kasey’s social worker, Emma Barnet. Nicki hadn’t even discussed it with her mother, so why had she shared it with Clay?

  He cocked his head to the side as he studied her. “I think you’ll make a great mother. It’s clear y
ou love her very much.”

  A blush crept up her cheeks at his praise. She was saved from further examination of her tumultuous feelings by the arrival of several of her students. Pushing off from the desk, she said, “Time to get to work.”

  Layla, pulling one of the new arrivals by the hand, stopped in front of Clay. “Uncle Clay, this is Gracie. She’s my friend. We’re gonna paint with our fingers today, aren’t we, Miss Nicki?”

  Nicki smiled at the children. “Yes, we are. As soon as everyone is here.”

  “Will you paint me a picture?” Clay asked.

  Layla considered his request, but Gracie said, “I’ll paint one for you.”

  Frowning at her friend, Layla said, “I’m painting one for him.”

  “You can both paint one for me. Mind if I stay and watch?” He addressed the question to Nicki accompanied by one of his please-don’t-say-no looks.

  She tried to harden her heart against him. “It might disrupt the class.”

  “I’ve missed all of Layla’s growing up. I’d like to make up for some of that lost time. I won’t be any trouble. I’ll stay in the corner as quiet as a mouse.”

  “All day?”

  Raising one finger, he wagged it at her. “You can’t scare me off that easily. Layla told me her class gets out at noon.”

  His beguiling smile and the barest lift of his eyebrow sent her good intentions out the window. “Oh, very well.”

  “You can sit with me.” Layla grabbed Clay’s hand and pulled him toward the seating area.

  Seeing him position himself on one of the tiny chairs at the edge of the room was funny enough that Nicki had to smother a laugh.

  The morning routine got under way as she supervised the painting projects, kept the children focused on painting on the paper and not each other, and then hung the wet art work around the edge of the room to dry. After the art project came circle time, when everyone listened to a Bible story she had chosen for the day.

  True to his word, Clay remained quietly observing the activities, but she was never able to forget that he was in the room.

  Watching Nicki in her element with a room full of children was an eye-opening experience for Clay. He was amazed at how easily she averted squabbles, offered encouragement and praise to each child and still managed to look utterly adorable while she was doing it.