The Cinderella Plan. Margaret Daley

afford several different colors and styles, but on her limited budget, even living with her parents, this was it.

      Caleb sat on the front steps leading into the youth center housed in the church hall next to the Chestnut Grove Community Church. Nursing a large mug of coffee cupped between his hands, he took a few minutes to sort through his thoughts before the long day started. Weather permitting, he enjoyed doing this every morning.

      Lord, I hope I don’t regret allowing the children to organize and oversee this fund-raiser. I’m getting anxious. We only have a week till the carnival and there’s still so much to do. Gina assures me she and her friends have everything under control. But still—the center needs the rec equipment.

      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