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Anne coughed and swallowed several times to coat her dry throat. “I’m sure that Caleb will find Dylan.”
Jeremy finally looked at her as though he hadn’t realized she’d even been in the room, which was usually how Anne liked it. But his expression only heightened all the years that she had felt invisible, unimportant.
The teenager lifted his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. I should’ve known something was up. The last few days he didn’t dog my every step around here like he usually does.”
“Oh” was all Anne could think to say. She’d never had very good success talking with the opposite sex and even though she was almost twice Jeremy’s age, she wasn’t doing a good job at the moment.
Luckily Gina burst into the room, followed by Nikki, Tiffany and Ruth Fraser, the minister’s daughter, all of them talking at the same time. Gina took one look at Jeremy and slowed her pace, her words dying in her throat as she quickly peered away from the young man.
When Gina saw Anne, the fifteen-year-old said, “I’m glad you could make it.” Then, as though she realized something was wrong, she cocked her head and asked, “What happened?”
“Dylan ran away,” Jeremy answered before Anne could even open her mouth.
Gina glanced at Jeremy, her usual bravado subdued. “He did? When?”
“Last night, I guess.”
The girls behind Gina began to whisper among themselves. Anne stepped forward. “If you all know anything, please tell me. Caleb is out looking for Dylan right now. Do you know where he would go when he’s upset?”
Tiffany and Nikki shook their heads. Ruth stared at a spot on the far wall with a blank expression, none of her usual exuberance evident.
Anne walked to her. “Do you know something, Ruth?”
The girl’s shoulders drooped, her bright red hair falling forward, almost concealing her face.
“Please tell me.”
Ruth looked Anne in the eye. “Dylan wasn’t happy with his foster family. He’s been talking about leaving, but I didn’t think he would do it.”
“Do you know where he would go?”
Ruth bit her lower lip, shaking her head slowly. “He went to school and here. Those are the only places he went to.”
An idea popped into Anne’s mind. They hadn’t searched the center. “Is this all the committee?”
“No, there are a few more. Billy is always late and Tyler is always with him,” Gina answered.
“Why don’t you get everyone started, Gina. I’ll be right back.”
Anne quickly left the committee working on the flyers and began searching each room, hoping her hunch paid off. When she entered the TV room, she spotted Dylan curled up on the old chocolate brown couch, hugging a plaid pillow. His black hair was tousled, his clothes twisting about him as though he had wrestled all night. She scanned the area, wondering how he’d gotten into the center. An opened window answered her question, and a breeze blew the white curtains, bringing the scent of the outdoors inside along with the early morning chill.
Anne walked to the window and closed it, then locked it. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Chestnut Grove, but leaving a window unlocked probably wasn’t a wise decision. She would say something to Caleb when he returned.
Dylan stirred on the couch, rolling onto his back. One arm flopped over the edge, dangling almost to the wooden floor. Even in sleep his face tensed into a frown, deep lines marring his forehead.
Anne gently shook Dylan awake. The boy’s blue eyes flew open. He scrambled to a sitting position.
“You’ve got some people worried about you.” Anne sat down on the worn coffee table in front of the couch.
Dylan stuck out his lower lip and clutched the pillow even tighter to his chest, his brows drawn together.
“Are you okay?”
His pout strengthened into a scowl. “Yeah.”
“I need to call Caleb and let him know you’re here. He’s out looking for you.”
“He is?”
Anne nodded, wishing she could wrap her arms around the boy and comfort him. His eyes reflected his doubt and pain. At a young age she sensed Dylan had seen the rough side of life and was having a hard time coping with it.
She stood. “Everyone’s in the arts-and-crafts room working on the flyers. Why don’t you join them? They’ll be glad to know you’re okay.”
For a long moment Dylan remained on the couch, staring straight ahead, grasping the pillow against him, as though it were his shield against the world, making a mockery of his declaration that he was all right. When Anne started forward, he tossed the pillow aside, unfolded himself and rose in one quick motion. He fled out the door.
Anne hurried after him, afraid that he was leaving. When he disappeared into the arts-and-crafts room, she came to a halt in the hallway and listened for a moment to the others greeting Dylan. Taking a quivering breath, Anne used the phone near the front entrance to call Caleb.
Hearing Caleb’s deep baritone voice made her momentarily forget why she wanted to talk to him. Silence ruled for a few seconds as she pictured him in her mind—over six feet tall, a large, muscular chest and narrow waist as though he used the exercise equipment at the center regularly, straight black hair that brushed his collar and light blue eyes that sparkled with humor.
“Anne? Did you find him?”
“How did you know it was me?” she asked, surprised and embarrassed at the same time.
“Caller ID. Did you find Dylan?”
“Yes. He’s at the youth center. I think he’s been here all night, in the TV room.”
“I’ll be right there. Don’t let him leave.”
“Do you want me to call the Givens’ and the police?”
“No, I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Anne. I didn’t think to look around the center before leaving. You saved us all a lot of time.”
The warmth in his words colored her cheeks, making her realize it didn’t take much to please her when it came to Caleb. She was a pushover where that man was concerned. Thankfully he didn’t know the power he had over her. She would hate to see pity in his eyes.
When Anne reentered the arts-and-crafts room, everyone was busy making flyers under Gina’s directions. The girl motioned for her to come closer. She and Gina had always been on friendly terms while the teenager volunteered at Tiny Blessings, but Anne was still surprised by the invitation to help, especially when it seemed Gina had everything under control. She sat beside the young girl who slid a piece of white paper toward her.
Gina showed Anne another slip of paper. “This is what we want on each of the flyers. Other than that, you can get as creative as you want to draw people’s eyes to the flyer.”
“Poster” was a more accurate word for what she was going to make, Anne thought as she looked at the large blank paper before her. Creative? She didn’t have a creative bone in her body, even though she loved to paint in her free time, just for herself. When she painted, she let her emotions fill the blank canvas. Knowing no one would see her work made it easy to do whatever she felt at the moment. A poster to be put up all around town was different.
Anne sighed heavily and plunged into the work before her. There was nothing wrong with plain and simple, she decided as she began to print the necessary information on the poster. She wasn’t so engrossed in her work that she didn’t know the second that Caleb entered the room. The hairs on the nape of her neck tingled and a shiver went down her spine. He came immediately over to where she was. Her hand shook as she wrote the last letter and thankfully put the marker down before her reaction became obvious to anyone.
“May I have a word with you in private?” Caleb whispered into her ear.
His breath fanned her neck, heightening the chills she already had from his entrance. She nodded, afraid to say anything for fear her voice would betray her.
He stepped back while she scooted her chair away from the long table and rose. She followed him out into the hall.
“I didn’t want to say anything to Dylan until I talked to you first. Did he tell you why he ran away?”
“No. I didn’t want to frighten him by asking him too many questions. A window in the TV room was open. I think he used it to climb into the building.”
Caleb frowned. “They’re usually locked. Dylan was the last one to leave the room yesterday. I wonder if he unlocked it. If he did, that means he was planning to run away.”
“But why here?”
“That’s a good question, and one I mean to ask Dylan. Will you continue to help the others while I have a word with him?”
“Sure. Are the Givens’ coming to pick him up?”
“No, I told them I would bring him home later after I talk with him.”
“I—” Anne started to say something, then clamped her mouth shut.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s none of my business.”
“If it’s about Dylan, it is. You found him. What did you want to tell me.”
“I’ve known the Givens family for most of my life. They take in foster children as a way to make a living. They feed, clothe and take care of their basic needs, but they’re not what I would call real parents. Right now they have several children and I wonder if Dylan is getting lost in the crowd there. How long has Dylan been with them?”
“Not long, a little over a month, I believe. I’ve been trying to counsel him, but he hasn’t opened up.”
“But he comes to the center?”
“Every day after school.”
“Then you must be reaching him on some level or he wouldn’t spend so much time here. And when he ran away, he came here.”
He took her hand. The gesture surprised Anne. His warm grasp enclosed about her fingers, underscoring all her dreams where this man was concerned. If she was anyone but who she was, she might have a chance—
“Will you come with me when I take Dylan home? Maybe another pair of eyes will help me understand how to help him, how to assess the dynamics of the family.”
He was holding her hand. There wasn’t anyway she could deny him his request even though she felt inadequate to assess the dynamics of any family, especially when she thought of her own parents who were so wrapped up in their careers they never had time for her. She choked out, “Yes,” then swallowed several times before adding, “I’ll try, but counseling is your area of expertise, not mine.”
He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you, Anne. And don’t sell yourself short. Tiffany, Nikki and Gina rave about you.”
Her world tilted and spun. Through a supreme effort she managed not to collapse at his feet. “They do?”
“You know those little talks you have over sodas?”
She waved her free hand, her senses still fixated on the fact he held her hand. “That’s just girl talk.”
“Well, you must be saying something right, Anne. They’re listening, and that’s most of the battle with kids.”
You are not going to blush like a school girl, she ordered herself, removing her hand from his and stepping back to give herself some breathing room. Her lungs burned from lack of proper oxygen, and she still felt dangerously close to fainting in front of him. She quickly realized, however, that she needed more space than a few measly feet. His presence dominated the hallway.
“I thought you two were gonna help us with the flyers,” Gina said from the doorway of the arts-and-crafts room, a twinkle glittering in her eyes.
Anne bit down on her lower lip and hurried forward, past the girl into the room. If the heat from her face was any indication, she was sure her cheeks were five different shades of red. She wished she didn’t blush at the least little thing. She slipped into the chair she’d occupied and picked up a red marker, using it to outline the black lettering she’d done earlier. The words stood out against the white poster board.
“That’s great, Anne. I like it. Your lettering is beautiful. Don’t you think so, Caleb?” Gina grinned at her as she sat down next to her and began decorating her own flyer.
Anne kept her focus trained on her paper, but she heard Caleb’s words as he took up the chair across from her. “Maybe we should have Anne do all the lettering. It sure beats my printing.”
“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. What do you think, guys?”
Before Anne realized it she had all the poster boards stacked in front of her to print the information on. She was perfectly happy to do it, because beyond the outlining of the words, she had been clueless with what she’d wanted to do next to her flyer. This way she could do what she did best and let the others be creative.
Pleased at how the morning had turned out, she glanced up to find Caleb staring at her with an intense expression on his face. She should look away, but for the life of her, she couldn’t make herself avert her gaze. She liked looking at Caleb, not just because he was handsome, which he definitely was, but because he was so kind and caring. For a blissful moment the others were forgotten, the rest of the world fading from her awareness as their gazes connected across the table and she felt his pull, strong, compelling—and dangerous to her quiet, uneventful life.
Caleb pulled up to the curb outside the Givens’ large two story white house with Dylan sitting between him and Anne. The frown on the boy’s face grew deeper the nearer they’d come to his foster home, but Dylan remained staunchly quiet even though Anne had tried to engage him in conversation.
Caleb was aware Dylan, who had lived in Richmond, had been recently taken away from his father because of abandonment. Was there more to the story than the child’s father leaving Dylan while the man was on a drinking binge? Glancing at the boy’s angry expression brought back memories Caleb wished would stay buried. His hands about the steering wheel tightened as he fought against the onslaught of emotions that he usually kept reined in. Helplessness. Anger for his childhood friend. Despair.
Please, Lord, I need Your help with Dylan. How do I reach him? I’ve tried for the past month. He’s angry and keeping things bottled up. Show me the way.
Rex Givens stood on the porch waiting for them as they walked up to the house. One small child played off to the side with some trucks while a toddler, dressed in a diaper and a long-sleeved blue pullover shirt, pressed his face against the screen door.
Caleb extended his hand toward Rex. “It’s good to see you. As you can see, Dylan’s okay.”
Rex snorted, fastening his full attention on the boy. “We were worried sick about you. What did you think running away would prove?”
Dylan’s frown evolved into a scowl, deep grooves at the sides of his mouth. Silent, he stared at Rex, his chin hiked up a notch.
The man gestured toward the six-year-old on the porch. “Take Brent inside and tell Cora you’re home.”
Dylan stomped up the stairs, but when he spoke to Brent, none of the boy’s anger showed in his tone of voice as he helped the younger boy gather up his trucks. They disappeared inside the house, Dylan taking hold of the toddler’s hand as they ambled down the hallway.
Anne moved closer to Caleb, filling the void Dylan’s absence created. A strong urge to reach out and grasp her hand for support inundated Caleb as he’d waited for the children to leave. His palms tingled as though an electrical current passed through him.
“May we have a word, Rex?” Caleb finished mounting the remaining two steps, not intending to be put off by the man.
Rex backed up, then waved his arms toward a grouping of white wicker furniture at one end of the porch. “Fine. Dinner will be soon and I’ll need to wash up. It’s quite a chore getting five children all to sit down at the table and eat at the same time.”
“This won’t take long. I’m concerned about Dylan, as I’m sure you are. Thankfully, Anne found him before he decided to leave the center.” Caleb’s gaze slid to Anne, and her presence next to him soothed some of the tension festering in him. Her sweet, caring attitude reminded him of what was good in life.
Rex sat in the lone wicker chair, leaving the small love seat for Caleb and Anne. As he lowered himself next to her, again the desire to touch her for support made him falter, and his mind went blank for a few seconds. Silence reigned while he grappled with his feelings, ones he hadn’t had in a long while.
Rex cleared his throat. “The only thing I can think that set Dylan off last night was he didn’t get to see a TV show he had wanted to. With five children in the house, he has his chores that have to be done and he wasn’t through with the dishes when the show came on.”
“I understand.” Caleb forced himself to keep his hands from clenching at his sides. Chores were an important part of a family, but, like Anne, he wasn’t so sure about the Givens’ motives for taking in foster children. He’d been around other foster parents, especially Reverend Fraser and his wife, who loved their charges and their home reflected that love. When he’d been inside the Givens’ home, he didn’t feel that kind of love for the children. They were a business to Rex and Cora Givens. “I’d like to counsel Dylan on a formal basis. He needs more than he’s getting right now coming to the center and just hanging out.”
Rex straightened his large frame in the small chair, its creaking sound permeating the porch. “You can say that again. Dylan’s more than Cora and me can handle. He resents any work we want him to do around the house. His attitude has been affecting the others in the short time he’s been here.” He crossed his arms. “Frankly, we don’t know what to do about the boy anymore. We’re thinking of calling the state to place him somewhere else.”
Caleb’s hand curled into a fist. “Let me work with him first. Give me a chance.”
