The Christmas Child

“Hello, Howard.” She knew the social worker from school and the times he’d come to interview teachers about a child’s well-being. Good at his job, professional and thorough, she’d always been glad to have him in a child’s corner. Until today.

“Sophie, how are you?”

“Great.” She’d been better. “Is everything okay? Davey’s doing fine here, as you can see. We’re sorting through some clothes my students donated.”

“Nice of you to take an interest. Tell your students thanks. We appreciate all you’ve done. Both of you.”

“No problem. Davey’s a good boy.”

“The Cunninghams will be glad to hear that.”

Dread pulled at Sophie’s belly. “The Cunninghams?”

“The foster family. We got lucky. They can take him today.”

Sophie made a small sound of distress. “He’s doing fine here, Howard. Why not leave him with Kade and Ida June?”

“Neither has foster-parenting credentials or clearances. The Cunninghams are paper-ready.”

“You’ve known Ida June forever and Kade is in law enforcement.”

“The system doesn’t work that way. Sorry. The Cunninghams are a good family with experience with special-needs children. He’ll do well with them.” Howard hitched the crease of his navy slacks and went to one knee in front of Davey. “My name is Mr. Prichard, Davey. You’ll be coming with me today. There’s a family waiting to meet you. You’re going to like it at their house.”

Davey frowned, bewildered gaze moving from Howard to Sophie and Kade.

“Howard,” Sophie said, beseeching.

“I have a job to do, Sophie. Our department comes under enough fire as it is. We have to follow procedures.” The social worker rose, matter-of-fact. “If you’d gather his belongings, he can take them along.”

“This is all he has.” The plastic bag crinkled as she pushed at it. A few hand-me-down clothes and an oversize pair of boots.

“More than most have, sad to say. Come along, Davey.” The man grasped Davey’s hand and started for the door. Davey jerked away and ran to Kade, throwing his arms around the familiar man’s legs. Sheba whined and pushed against Davey’s back. He fell against her neck and clung.

“Let him stay.” Kade’s voice was hard as granite.

Howard ignored the request. “Come now, Davey.” When the boy didn’t obey, the social worker scooped Davey into his arms and headed to the car. Davey squirmed but didn’t make a sound. The silence was more terrible than any amount of crying.

Sophie followed, fighting tears, her throat clogged with emotion. She pushed Davey’s beloved book into his hands. “It’s okay, Davey. I know the Cunningham family. They’re nice people. I’ll call you. I’ll come over and see you. We’ll find your family. I promise. I promise. Don’t be afraid.”

Tense fingers caught her arm. Kade, face as hard as ice, said, “Don’t make promises.”

Sophie stopped in the driveway next to the black Taurus and forced an encouraging smile as the social worker buckled the little lost boy into the backseat. Beside her, Kade said nothing, but anger seethed from him, hot against the evening chill. She lifted her hand, waved and held on to the fake smile while the car backed into the street and pulled away.

A cold wind swirled around her, lifted her hair, scattered scratchy brown leaves across the pavement. The dark sedan turned the corner, out of sight now.

Sophie lowered her hand and stood dejected in the bleak afternoon. What a sad way to spend Christmas.

Be with him, Jesus.

Even though her prayer was heartfelt, Sophie knew little comfort. The sight of Davey’s tormented face pressed against the window glass with silent tears streaming would stay with her forever.

Chapter Four

Kade wanted to punch something. Fists tight against his sides, he glared at the departing car, shocked by his reaction. He wasn’t supposed to get personally involved. But he was supposed to protect and serve. With Davey gone to strangers, how could he do that?

Sophie touched him. A gentle hand to his outer elbow. A comforting squeeze and release. His muscles tensed. He turned from staring down Hope Avenue, a useless occupation considering the car was long gone, to meet the teacher’s gaze. He didn’t say what he was thinking. A woman like her wouldn’t want to know, and as the dismayed shrink had discovered, Kade was not one to vomit his emotions all over someone else anyway.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“Nothing we can do.”

“This doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why exactly. We barely know Davey, but I’m worried about him. He seemed comfortable with us.”

“Yeah.” Kade pivoted toward the house. “Might as well get out of the wind. Want to come in?”

“No, I should go. I—” She pushed aside a blowing curve of hair, only to let it blow right back across her face.

“Come in. Finish your coffee.” He wasn’t ready for her to leave. They shared a common concern and a common ache. Sophie was a nice woman, the kind a man didn’t blow off and leave standing in his driveway.

She didn’t argue but fell in step beside him. Her height was average, as was his, but his stride was longer. She picked up her pace. “I hadn’t read the book. I promised to read his book.”

He’d told her not to make promises. Promises got broken. He pushed open Ida June’s front door, a bright red enameled rectangle festooned with a smelly cedar wreath the size of an inner tube. “He’ll be okay.”

“The Cunninghams are good people. They live on a farm.”

Sheba met them at the door, body language asking about Davey.

Sophie stroked the golden ears. “She didn’t want him to leave, either.”

“No.”

“I’ll call Cybil Cunningham tonight and check on him. She won’t mind.”

“Good.” He went to the kitchen, stuck their coffee mugs in the microwave to heat. “This doesn’t end here.”

The words came out unexpectedly but he meant them. The microwave beeped and he popped the door open to hand Sophie her heated coffee.

She took the mug with both hands and sipped, gray gaze watching him above the rim. “You’re going to search for his family?”

“I’m searching for answers. It’s what I do. And I’ll find them.” The stir in his blood was far more potent than the acid in his belly. Finding answers for Davey gave him focus, a mission, something to do besides relive failure.

“The police will do that, won’t they?” She set the mug on the metal table and drew out a chair.

Kade shrugged. A lot she knew about law enforcement. “They’ll try. For a while. But if the trail grows cold, Davey will go on the back burner.”

“And be stuck in the social system.”

“Right.” Restless, he didn’t join her at the table, but he liked seeing her there, calm to his anxious. How did she do that? How did she shift into serene gear after what had just happened? He knew she’d been emotional when Davey left. He’d watched her struggle, saw her pull a smile out of her aching heart for Davey’s sake. Now she drew on some inner reserve as though she trusted everything would work out for the best. “I talked to Jesse Rainmaker an hour ago. Nothing. Nothing on the databases, either.”