Ransomed Dreams (26 page)

After making sure the soft jazz music was good to go, Steven served the Caesar salads. It felt great to relax. To forget the world for one night and enjoy the company of a beautiful woman, whom his son and parents adored.

“This is wonderful.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth. “Is this Sara’s recipe, or did she and Clint sneak all this ready-made into your fridge?”

“I think I’ve been insulted.”

“Not exactly.”

He was thankful she’d only bowed her head for a quick moment before starting her salad. He still wondered if he should have tried to pray for her sake. But he nudged the serving dish closer to her and decided to take the plunge into deeper conversation.

“How do you let go of what happened to your family?” He hadn’t expected the grief that flashed across her face. He wished for a way to retract the abrupt question. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No. You didn’t hurt me. It’s just that I’ve been wondering
about it too. Wondering if I’ll ever know who killed my family Justin had high hopes for the sketch I did back in August. But he’s been delayed and hasn’t gotten much feedback from the colleges he’s contacted in Atlanta.”

Steven piled sizzling steak, veggies, salsa, and sour cream onto his tortilla. “Isn’t he making a trip down there in a few weeks?”

“Yes. I’m going home for Thanksgiving, but Justin thinks he’ll have some information for me well before then. Says the personal touch draws lots of leads.”

Steven doubted it but kept that thought to himself. His PI buddy was doing all he knew to do. Maybe Steven would ask his dad and Clint to be praying more specifically for Gracie’s investigation. What could it hurt?

She placed smaller servings onto her plate and added a little bit of shredded cheese. “Since the last time I talked to Justin, I’ve been rereading my journals. Praying about whether to keep searching or to let it go. But I can’t stop now.” She fingered the locket that hung around her neck.

“Pictures of your children?”

She glanced down at the locket. Her lips smiled, and her eyes misted. Maybe he should stick with surface talk about their jobs and leave the heavy stuff for wiser people. People like Clint.

“Yes, these are Elizabeth and Joshua’s birth pictures.” She opened the delicate locket and held it out to him.

He leaned in for a closer look. The tiny pictures reminded him of James’s birth. All red and screaming. Then Angela had disappeared a few weeks later, leaving a note about her professor and wishing Steven a nice life.

“I’m struggling to accept that there’s so much I may never understand this side of heaven,” she said. “I ask the questions anyway, and I let God have it every once in a while. He can handle it. I want to believe I don’t need the answers, that God is enough. That He has good in store, like my best friend tells me.”

“Does it work?” Snapshots of missing children and those
who would never return home slammed against his skull. This conversation had landed too close to his struggles, his questions about life’s mysteries.

Come Monday he’d talk this out with his partner. Clint and Sara must be at home praying something fierce.

For now, Steven could only attack his steak fajita.

Gracie took a deep breath. “I believe despite what I feel sometimes. Jesus came so that we might have life. He never promised a long or easy life, but He promised us Himself and eternity in a perfect place with no tears or sadness.”

Her chin quivered, but her eyes blazed. “I don’t understand why Mark and our children died. I don’t understand why God didn’t take me too. But I choose to believe God has a purpose. I know my family is in His arms. I find great comfort in that.”

Steven clenched his jaw. Gracie was talking about the family she loved and lost and, as natural as breathing, telling him about Jesus. How could he ever measure up to that? Guilt gnawed at the steak in his gut.

At least she hadn’t offered simple Sunday school answers. She lived what she said. Compassion showed in her eyes and in her touch as she placed her hand on his arm.

“Peace comes from knowing God, not from having answers to every question. The answer is faith. Trusting Him.”

“My partner thinks forgiveness is what turns life all rosy.”

Gracie cut her fajita and chewed a small bite. “Well, I can’t speak to that one. In fact, I’d say that’s my Achilles’ heel. I can’t imagine forgiving the man who stole my family from me. Not until after he rots in jail. If then.”

“Think you’ll be able to move past it if you don’t find the guy?” He appreciated that she’d admitted to an imperfect walk with God. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“I’m not willing to cross that bridge yet. Not until I’ve exhausted all possibilities.” She studied his face. “For right now, I’m working on trusting God to get me through today The rest will have to wait.”

She leaned forward and met him with a piercing look. “What about you? From what Clint tells me, it sounds like you and God parted ways about six years ago. Right after Angela left.”

Steven took a long drink of tea. Sweet stuff that Sue had made special for him. And for Gracie. “Touché. I kinda figured you wanted to know more about Angela than you let on.”

He thought of Angela and all their fights about religion. Nothing like this time with Gracie. Not even close. Most of his God-talk had met
with
belligerence, Angela being loose lipped under the influence of alcohol.

“Angela and I argued about everything. But about God, more than anything else.”

Gracie’s expression didn’t waver as she finished her fajita and waited for him to continue. Did she already know he’d walked in her Christian shoes before? He’d done the talk but had gotten burned too much to stick with the walk.

“Are you still in love with her?”

Ouch. Gracie, like Clint, didn’t mince words. Or skirt around the tough stuff.

“I did love Angela. I still struggle with being attracted to her. Guess you picked up on that.”

“We react with powerful emotions toward those people we feel most strongly about.”

Good answer. True. Not the end of the story, though. “I don’t want a future with Angela. Once I’m given full custody, she’s out of my life.”

Gracie cocked her head to the side. “Maybe Clint is right about forgiveness. Seems to me you won’t be completely free of your ex-wife until you forgive her. Your body language screams that truth.”

Steven looked down at his clenched fists and folded arms. It wasn’t forgiveness or the lack of it that had him riled. It was the thought of the upcoming custody battle and what would happen if it didn’t get Angela out of his life for good.

What if she had never really stopped drinking? Sharing joint
custody and leaving his son in a potentially dangerous environment wouldn’t ever happen. But what if she was clean? She had a right to know her son. According to her, James was the only child she would ever have.

Steven’s heart felt gripped in a vise. He didn’t understand the strange feelings stirring around inside.

Snippets of Clint’s booming voice thundered in his ears. Daggered words about pride and how Steven wouldn’t be able to make up for the past or be free of it without forgiveness.

“Steven?” Gracie waved a hand in front of his face. “I think you have a visitor at your front door.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. I got lost for a minute.”

She smiled. “I’ll start clearing dishes, and you can go check to see if you need the latest magazine subscription some poor high school kid is trying to sell.”

Steven walked to the front door. A salesman on a Friday night? He opened the heavy wooden door. Worse than a salesman. “Angela. What brings you here this evening?”

She extended a dish and smiled. “A peace offering. Derby pie. I hope it’s still your favorite.” She stepped forward and raised her eyebrow when he blocked the doorway.

“Where’s your husband?”

She took a deep breath. “After our dinner a few weeks ago, I went home and had a long talk with Marcus. He agrees that you and I should try to work out our differences. In fact, he’d like to come with me next time work slows down and I’m here for a visit. He’d like to meet you and James.”

So that was why she disappeared in between her bomb-dropping missions. She was as busy with her career as he was with his. That information would serve him well in court. Steven swallowed the next set of words that leaped to his mind. Did he really want to meet the man Angela had slept with before and after bearing his son?

Only a paternity test and a newborn had kept Steven from ripping good ole Marcus’s head from his body six years ago when
he’d first found out about his wife’s affair. That feeling hadn’t lessened much since then. Seeing the jerk wouldn’t help matters.

Gracie laid a hand on his shoulder and then quickly retracted it when she saw Angela in the doorway.

Angela stiffened her back and pasted on an if-looks-could-kill smile. “Well, well. My son’s favorite teacher looks like she’s fast becoming my husband’s favorite date too.”

“It’s none of your business. We’re not married anymore, Angela.”

“But we were.” Her long fingers tightened on the pie plate she held as she focused on Gracie. “Watch yourself, Mrs. Lang. He looks like a perfect Romeo now and talks a good game until he gets you between the sheets. But his mistress will always be the FBI.” She raked her eyes over Gracie. “And if I couldn’t keep him interested, I doubt that you can.”

Gracie bowed her head and tightened her lips.

Steven wanted to throttle Angela. He may have messed her over and broken her heart, but Gracie didn’t deserve those caustic comments.

“Angela, it’s past time for you to go. Keep your peace offering.” He touched Gracie’s arm but kept his eyes on Angela’s face. “You didn’t stick around long enough to work things out years ago. I doubt you will this time. But if you do see Gracie again, I expect you to behave like an adult. One with a little common decency and courtesy.”

“Oh, you’ll both see me again.” Angela flipped her black hair over her shoulder. “November eighth. In court, if not before. I’m serious about gaining custody of my son. Before I lose him to some
elementary teacher.”
She turned and stalked down the front walk toward her Mercedes.

Steven closed the door and drew Gracie into his arms. This was not the way he’d imagined holding her for the first time. “I’m so sorry.”

She put a hand to his chest and pulled back. “That wasn’t your fault. She’s obviously afraid James would rather spend time
with me than her, and she’s handling it the only way she knows how.” Gracie’s shaking hands belied her calm words.

“She was wrong to attack you. You’re beautiful inside and out and an excellent teacher who makes a difference in children’s lives. That matters.” He led her into the den to sit on the leather couch. “I hope this doesn’t scare you away.”

“No. But maybe we should go a little slower. Wait until after the custody hearing to have another date at your house.”

He’d waited years for a woman he felt as comfortable around as Gracie, and he wasn’t about to lose the ground they’d gained tonight. “Why don’t we double with Clint and Sara? Or your friend Leah and her husband?”

“What if I pray about it and let you know?” She smiled, but a hint of fear showed in her pretty hazel eyes.

Steven nodded. If he could keep the frustrating Kensington case from dividing his mind and get the stupid custody hearing over with, surely Gracie would see he was worth her time.

Far more than Angela ever had.

Then again, maybe he was better off alone. But that was what he’d done for the last five years, and it hadn’t worked.

Maybe Clint and Gracie were right. It was past time for a real change. He just didn’t know where to start. Or how.

O
ctober’s morning crispness forced Gracie’s tired eyes open as she ran her standard three miles.

But not even Jake’s steady panting beside her or Wednesday’s school lessons kept her mind from wandering back to her last conversation with Steven. It had been another tense phone call about his being busy with work and not picking James up this week. Either Steven’s case was gathering steam toward a conviction, or they’d gotten too honest last Friday and backpedaling had become the order of the day.

Her pocketed cell phone buzzed. Who
in the world?

“Gracie, are you okay?” Beth’s panicked voice flew through the phone lines.

She slowed to a cooldown pace and looked around her sleepy neighborhood, still dark with tons of eerie shadows. The question made goose bumps crawl over her skin.

She laughed it off. “I’m almost home from jogging. No broken body parts or stalkers lurking, so I think I’m okay.” She looked at her sports watch. “But you’re up way before the workaholics leave for the office. California time it’s two in the morning. What’s up with that?”

Silence.

“Beth?”

Then sniffles. “I just couldn’t get back to sleep. I kept seeing you in my dreams.”

“And that’s such an awful thing?” Gracie unlocked her front door and released Jake’s leash. She needed a quick shower, or she’d never make it to work on time. That’d give her vice principal
ample ammunition for caustic remarks. Something he’d been doing more often lately.

“I’m serious. I’m worried about you. Seeing you tumble down a hill in the Jeep I bought for you doesn’t make for a good night.”

“Sorry Beth.”

“Will you stay home from work today?”

She moved to the kitchen and took a long drink of water, considering her sister’s tearful request. They’d grown close again, but Beth and tears still ranked up there as one of life’s paradoxes. “I can’t. It’s too late to call in a substitute, and I have Secret Service company to entertain.”

“Will you call Steven and ask him to pick you up on his way with James?”

“No.”

Beth blew her nose. Not a great sound amplified over phone lines. “Don’t tell me you’re ditching him because he’s not a perfect Christian like Mark.”

“Mark wasn’t perfect and neither am I, Beth. We’ve covered this. Can’t we let it alone?” Turning thirty hadn’t made Beth any less like a playground bully when she didn’t get her way.