A Family for Faith. Missy Tippens

mistakes, which had ultimately driven him away from her. And now it seemed their relationship hung by a thread.

      She stood and pulled the covers over Chelsea. “Sleep tight. Don’t forget your prayers.”

      Once Chelsea was tucked in, Faith went to clean the kitchen. But Chelsea and Gabe had done an excellent job already. She couldn’t even find a trace of what they’d eaten for dinner. So she busied herself cleaning the toaster.

      About the time she finished brushing crumbs out of the little trapdoor and buffing the chrome exterior to a perfect shine, the back door opened, and Gabe walked in. “Hi. She in bed?”

      Her heart stuttered. Having him nearby made the room feel two sizes smaller. “Yes. Just a little while ago.”

      “Thanks. I really appreciate you stepping in.”

      His grateful smile made her want to turn away, to find something to keep her busy rather than have to look into his penetrating dark eyes. But with the spotless kitchen, she didn’t have any option other than facing him head-on—and dealing with this sudden nervousness around him. “So…did you catch your crook?”

      “No. I imagine my car ran him off.”

      Unable to maintain eye contact, she refolded a dish towel and laid it beside the sink. “I have to brag on your daughter. She had showered and was in bed reading when I went back to check on her at bedtime.”

      He leaned against the kitchen counter. Though he should be proud, he appeared troubled. “She’s growing up too fast.”

      “I know it may feel too fast to you, but I think she’s pretty much on target. Other kids her age seem to be facing the same issues.”

      “Seems all kids grow up too quickly these days.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I think going to the café this afternoon was good for her.”

      “Until you showed up,” she teased. Then she grinned at him to ease the jab.

      “Yeah, well, she and I had a little talk. If you’ll let her drop by again tomorrow, I’ll try to keep my nose out of it.”

      Surely Faith could handle that. It wasn’t as if she were committing to raising the girl. And it would be a nice step of independence for Chelsea. “Sure. She’s welcome to come back.” She stood straighter and forced her attention away from his handsome face. “And while you’re feeling generous, we need to talk.”

      He pulled out the chair and indicated for her to have a seat. “What’s up?”

      As they sat across from each other at the table, she chose to use an oh, this is so cute approach and forced out a laugh. “Well, get ready, Chief Dad. There’s more to come.”

      He leaned on his forearms, all seriousness, not falling for her lighthearted approach. “Suppose you fill me in.” His nearly black eyes bore into hers, and she found it difficult to meet his gaze.

      “Chelsea has been invited to a party. Her first girl-boy party.” She held her breath. Waiting.

      He paused for a heartbeat. “No way is she doing that.” He frowned for another few seconds, then he relaxed back in his chair. “She’s been like a roller coaster all summer. Emotions all over the place. Maybe this liking-boys phase will pass.”

      “Well, I think she may be hitting the time when she’ll start liking them more often than not. Especially when it involves Parker Pruitt.”

      The frown reformed. “I suppose she does like him. And he’ll be at this party?”

      Faith wasn’t so sure this conversation was going to help Chelsea at all. “She thinks so.”

      “Chels is not going to any parties.”

      Faith recognized that determined look on his face. She was fairly certain she’d worn it herself at some point with Ben. “I totally understand. I tried the same with Ben, but it backfired.”

      “How can doing what needs to be done—the right thing—backfire?”

      She didn’t know how she could explain without revealing how she’d failed with her son. “I told you, I think being overprotective can be a mistake. So please don’t nix the idea without talking to Valerie’s parents first. The girl’s mother seems very responsible.”

      He shook his head as he got up from the table, pretty much dismissing her and her ideas.

      She followed suit, grabbed her purse off the counter, then opened the door. “I guess I need to get back to the café to finish up.”

      “Thanks for helping out tonight.”

      She hadn’t come willingly, had done so out of a sense of guilt. But if she were honest, she would acknowledge she’d actually enjoyed herself. “No problem.”

      He nodded his goodbye. “She’ll change her mind about the party, you know. She’s not entirely ready to be a teenager. I see glimpses of my little girl all the time.”

      “Yeah. Maybe so.” Faith hated to rain on his parade. But she suspected this time he was in for a surprise.

      Late the next morning, Faith left the café and made a quick run to the bank. When she returned through the back door, the dark, rich aroma of coffee greeted her. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of the smell, and in some ways, the café felt more like home than her house did. Maybe because the little bit of a social life she enjoyed revolved around work.

      And also around church. Although, she often still felt like an outsider. Unless you were born and raised in Corinthia, you weren’t truly part of that inner circle that got invited over for birthday parties or Sunday dinner or spur-of-the-moment get-togethers.

      She called into the dining room to let Natalie know she had returned. While she washed her hands and put on her apron, she heard Miss Ann’s distinctive voice—rather high-pitched and raspy. And very, very Southern.

      Miss Ann was a church icon. Whenever townspeople had a problem, they went straight to her for prayer and guidance. And though the woman had lost a lot in her lifetime, she always radiated joy. Always had a kind word. Always wore a smile.

      Faith hurried out from the kitchen with an important request in mind. “Hey, Miss Ann.”

      “I was just praying for you, Faith. Always do whenever I’m near the café.”

      She patted Ann’s shoulder. “And I’m honored that’s just about daily.”

      Ann smiled with rheumy blue eyes the color of an October sky as she held up her mug of hot chocolate—with skim milk and marshmallows—in a mock toast. “Couldn’t make it without my daily dose of chocolate.”

      “Thank you for the prayers. And I have a request for you.” Faith pulled out a chair and joined Ann at the small, square table she came to each morning to read her Bible. The carnations in the vase looked a bit ragged, so Faith picked off a browning leaf, straightened them and made a mental note to replace them a day early.

      “What is it, dear?”

      It wasn’t easy to open up and share her worries. But she needed the prayer support, so she took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’ve sort of been thrown into Gabe Reynolds’s life the last day or so. I’m trying to help him out a bit with Chelsea.”

      A grin spread across Ann’s face. “You don’t say.”

      “I feel torn. I’d like to help, but I’m so busy here, getting ready for Ben’s visit, training Natalie to take over during my vacation. And dealing with a middle schooler…” She hadn’t told Ann any more than she’d told anyone else in town, but she hoped the woman would understand her fear. “Please be praying that it goes well all around.”

      “So is he having trouble with Chelsea?”

      “Sort of.” She wasn’t sure how much to share about his situation. But Ann seemed to be discreet and trustworthy.