The Cinderella Plan
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He took a large swallow of his lukewarm coffee, looking toward the church next door. Its white and red bricks gleamed in the sun, just peeking over the tops of the oak and maple trees along the street. The tall spire and bell tower of the eighteenth-century structure shot up into the blue sky as though it stood sentinel over the town. When peering at the church that had withstood centuries amid war and drama, he always felt comforted. The Lord’s house. An intricate part of Chestnut Grove and its history.
A small black car pulled into the parking lot at the side of the center, capturing his attention. He watched as Anne climbed from her old Chevy and headed up the sidewalk toward him. Tilting his head to the left, he tried to remember a time when he had seen her wear a pair of jeans. He couldn’t. She always wore long, full dresses or skirts that came down to her ankles. Interesting.
A small smile graced her lips and her ponytail bounced as she made her way toward him. Her fresh face and vivid blue eyes were a welcome sight. Anne never played games. After he had gotten past her shyness, he had found her very straightforward and honest. He could count on her if he ever needed help, especially with the young people who volunteered at the adoption agency. Anne took them under her wing and assisted them any way possible. She was a very caring woman. An appealing quality. If only she believed in God, he thought, pushing to his feet and plastering a smile of greeting on his face.
“You’re here before the kids are.” He checked his watch. “In fact, you’re ten minutes early before eight on a Saturday. I’m impressed.”
“Mornings are the best time of day. I’ve never slept past six-thirty.”
He held up his mug. “Whereas, I have to load up on tons of coffee, just to be coherent before nine in the morning.”
“So you’re a night person?”
“No, more like an afternoon person. My best time is between one and five.”
She laughed. “I’ll have to remember that.”
He liked the sound of her laughter, light, almost musical. It sent a warmth through him that surprised him. “Do you want some coffee before the kids swarm this place and there isn’t a moment’s rest?”
“I’m a tea drinker.”
“Something else we don’t agree on.”
She shrugged. “Yep. Coffee tastes like dirt to me.”
“To me drinking tea is like drinking brownish water.”
Anne started climbing the stairs toward the front door. “The world would be a dull place if we all agreed on everything.”
Caleb walked next to her. “I have to agree with you on that.”
She slanted a look toward him, grinning. “I guess we aren’t so hopeless after all. Who knows what else we might agree on before the day is out?”
“Let me refill my coffee. I’ll meet you in the arts-and-crafts room. That’s where I thought we would make the flyers and go over any last minute preparations.”
While Anne headed to the left, Caleb walked toward the kitchen connected to the cafeteria/gym. With a lightness to his step, he hurried to pour his coffee and get back to Anne. He had known her from a distance for a few years, but in the past six months he had become better acquainted with her. Each time he was with her he felt her emotional walls crumble just a little more. The minister and psychologist in him wanted to help her heal, because in her blue eyes he saw a glimpse of a deep wound she tried to conceal from the world. Maybe in helping her heal, he could also help her find her way to the Lord.
But lately, the man in him wanted something more. That continued to surprise him because he wasn’t interested in dating anyone who didn’t believe in the Lord. He’d had a relationship in college with a woman who had not been a Christian and the emotional scars left from it still hurt today. He’d wanted it to work so badly, but they just hadn’t seen the future the same way.
He eased open the door to the arts-and-crafts room, expecting to find Anne waiting for him. His words died in his throat as he scanned the area before him. The emptiness mocked him. He glanced up and down the hall, wondering where she was. Then he heard a noise and looked back into the room. He saw Anne, on all fours, scooting out from under one of the long art tables.
He cleared his throat. “Can I help?”
Anne gasped, lifted up and bumped into the underside of the table. “Ouch!” She managed to stand without injuring herself again, but she rubbed the back of her head. “You’re supposed to warn someone you’re in the room.”
“Sorry. I did. I cleared my throat. But next time I’ll clap my hands or bang on something so you know I’m coming.” Caleb put his mug down. “May I ask why you were under the table in the first place?”
“I was putting away my car keys and I dropped my purse.” She gestured toward the floor on the other side of the table, away from the door. “My lipstick rolled there.”
“You don’t need makeup.”
With his gaze fixed on her face, she blushed the color of her pink lipstick and busied herself stuffing the contents of her purse back into the black leather bag.
“You don’t carry much. My two cousins have half their bedroom in their purses.”
She shrugged, snapping the bag closed with a loud click. “Don’t need it. I don’t wear much makeup. That is, other than lipstick. Personally, I wish I didn’t have to carry a purse at all, but I need something to put my wallet and checkbook in.”
“Very efficient.”
Her smile encompassed her whole face, two dimples appearing. “That’s my middle name.”
“Very or efficient?” he asked, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.
She chuckled. “Efficient and organized.”
He could listen to her laughter all day. What a beautiful sound! He would have to think of more ways to get her to do it. “I’m glad you’re both because we’ll probably need it when the kids arrive. The last meeting we had ended in chaos. Gina wanted to do things a certain way and Jeremy another way. Needless to say, that didn’t sit well with Gina. She’s very aware he’s the oldest by a year.”
Anne peered at the clock on the wall. “Where are they?”
“You know, that’s a good question.” Caleb started for the door.
Jeremy appeared in the entrance into the room, a frown slashing across his face. “I went to pick up Dylan like I promised ya and he’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” Caleb straightened, anxiety taking hold of him.
“His foster parents went to get him in his room, and he hadn’t slept in his bed. He wasn’t anywhere in the house. They called the police, but I thought ya should know.”
Chapter Two
Anne came to stand beside Caleb. “Dylan? Isn’t that the boy the Givens family took in?”
Caleb nodded, thinking back to his conversation with the child yesterday afternoon—or the lack thereof. Dylan had been unusually quiet when Caleb had seen him at the center, staring at the TV set. He suspected the eleven-year-old hadn’t even known what show had been on. He’d tried to get Dylan to talk to him, but the boy had clamped his mouth shut, crossed his arms and glared at a spot on the floor in front of him.
Caleb dug into his pocket and retrieved his car keys. “I need to find him.” He started for the door.
“Do you want me to help?” Anne asked, taking a step forward.
He pivoted, a frown creasing his forehead. “No.”
The force behind that one word stiffened her spine.
“Sorry. That didn’t come out right.” Caleb kneaded the back of his neck. “I need you to stay here and get the kids started on the flyers. I hope I can find Dylan and be back soon.”
“What if he shows up here? Do you have a cell phone I can call you on?”
With a quick nod Caleb walked back to the table and scribbled his number down on a pad. “Call if you find out anything that might help.”
As Caleb left the room, Jeremy stood near the door, looking lost. An uncomfortable silence descended. Anne shifted from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. She knew from the girls who volunteered at the adoption agency that Jeremy was very popular at school, already a star athlete on the football team even though he was only a sophomore. When Gina talked about him, she got all starry-eyed, and Anne thought back to her days in high school and the few crushes she’d developed on unattainable boys. It hadn’t taken long for them to be crushed to the point she didn’t dream about the impossible—until Caleb had come along.
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.”