Valerie Hansen

Nightwatch


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farm. There were often surprises popping out of the ground or bursting into bloom to cheer her just when she needed a lift. Flowers even appeared in the lawn sometimes, as if God had strewn the seeds there to bring more beauty into her life and remind her she was loved.

      She was just coming out of the barn, still accompanied by Mugsy as well as the ranch dogs, when the ringing of the cell phone in her pocket startled her. She fumbled and slopped coffee in her haste to answer.

      “Hello?”

      “Jill. It’s me, Mitch.”

      “You sound upset. What’s wrong?”

      The moment he said, “They gave those poor kids to Natalie Stevens,” Jill understood completely.

      “No way. How did that happen?”

      “I heard she showed up at the hospital and claimed them. I’m headed over there now to get some answers.”

      “Where? The hospital or Natalie’s house?”

      “The hospital. Some social worker named Brenda Connors is supposed to meet me there.”

      “I know her. She’s the one I gave the kids to last night at the fire scene. I can’t believe she’d allow someone to just take them away like that.”

      “Neither can I.”

      Clasping the little phone tightly, Jill didn’t stop to censor her response. “Swing by here and pick me up on your way. I’m going with you.”

      “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

      “Wait! That’s too …” She was listening to dead air. Making a face at the phone she began to jog toward the house. Ten minutes?

      She wasn’t prissy the way some women were but even she needed longer than that to get ready for a foray into the legal system surrounding the placement of homeless children.

      “I can do this,” Jill told herself firmly. “To help a nice guy like Mitch, I can do practically anything, including make myself presentable in less than ten minutes.”

      That statement made her smile. She wasn’t preparing to help someone like Mitch, she was going to help him.

      A part of her wanted to keep denying how special he had become to her while another part of her argued about how much his friendship and kindnesses had meant since Eric’s accident.

      She knew Mitch well enough to surmise that it was his sense of personal responsibility that had led him to pay so much attention to her. She didn’t care what his motives had been. Not really. She just knew that she thanked the Lord daily that she’d met him, the same way she gave thanks for her Ozark home and the loving folks who had embraced her as part of their family and community when she’d been left all alone in a strange town.

      Without a husband, Jill had wondered if she could make it in such rural surroundings. Yet whenever she’d had a need, there had always been someone ready to offer help. Usually Mitch Andrews, she added, although many other members of Serenity Chapel had also pitched in.

      As she paused in front of her closet and reached for a favorite, jacketed blue dress, she closed her eyes for a moment and whispered, “Thank You, Jesus,” meaning every word from the deepest reaches of her heart. Her life might be nothing like she had imagined, but it was good.

      Mitch’s hands tightly gripped his truck’s steering wheel as he drove. It wasn’t Natalie’s everyday reputation that worried him most, it was her erratic behavior at the fire scene. The woman had acted as if she could barely take care of herself, let alone look after three small children. The boys might be all right if she let them fend for themselves, but little Megan was far from self-sufficient.

      He skidded to a dusty stop in front of Jill’s white-painted farmhouse. She ran off the porch and climbed in the passenger side of his pickup before he had a chance to get out and open the door for her. Her blue eyes sparkled, her hair shimmered like gold and her face glowed as if she were embarking on an exciting adventure instead of preparing to enter a figurative lion’s den.

      “Thanks for coming with me,” he said.

      “Thanks for letting me. I worried about those kids all night.”

      “Yeah, me, too.” Mitch drove off, staring at the road ahead as he delivered the bad news. “It’s official. They found Rob and Ellen in the office.”

      “I’m so, so sorry.”

      When Jill reached across and briefly laid her hand over his, he tried not to flinch. “Thanks. They were special people.”

      “I never got to know them very well but I’m sure they were.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress, then folded her hands in her lap atop her clutch purse. “Is Brother Logan going to preach at their funeral?”

      “Probably. It may be weeks before the crime scene techs and the coroner are finished and the bodies are released. That’s another reason I was upset about Natalie getting the kids. There’s no telling what an unstable person like her will do or say when she first hears the bad news, not to mention when we finally lay Rob and Ellen to rest.”

      “I totally agree. We need a judge’s ruling about custody and we need it fast.”

      “How do we get that?”

      “Probably through Ms. Connors. She’ll request an immediate hearing and hopefully the court will also appoint a CASA volunteer to oversee the case.”

      “A what?”

      “CASA. It stands for Court Appointed Special Advocate. Those people are trained to investigate everything and then speak for children who have been abused or neglected or who may be in danger. It can’t be anybody like you or me who knows the family. It can’t be a lawyer either. Or the police. This person has to be completely impartial. That’s the beauty of the system.”

      Mitch doubted anyone could remain that unbiased, particularly when innocent children were involved. He knew he sure couldn’t. “If you say so. Have you had experience with CASA before?”

      “Yes,” Jill said. “There aren’t many volunteers out here in the boondocks but I do know of at least one. Samantha Rochard. She’s a nurse at the county hospital.”

      “You trust her?”

      “Completely.”

      Once again, Jill patted the back of his hand. Mitch managed a smile for her benefit. “Okay. If you vouch for her, that’s good enough for me.” His smile waned. “Hold it. What if she was one of the nurses who helped treat the kids last night?”

      “I doubt that small connection would disqualify her,” Jill said. “As a matter of fact, she’s required to check with doctors and anyone else who may have had contact with the children before and after the fire, then make a written report to the judge.”

      “Meaning she’ll realize how nuts Natalie is?”

      “Let’s pray that’s the case.”

      “I think I’d better leave the praying to you,” Mitch said. “Judging by what happened last night, the Lord isn’t listening to me.”

      “I know exactly what you mean,” Jill replied, surprising him with her candor. “After Eric died, it was a long time before I could really pray again. I just kept asking why.”

      Mitch was about to apologize for not being able to save her injured husband’s life when Jill added, “I imagine God was pretty sick of hearing me whimpering. It took me ages to realize I probably already had all the answers I was going to get.”

      He didn’t know what to say. He shared her Christian faith, yet his own prayer life was nowhere near that satisfying. If he’d had more time to mull over her conclusion he might have commented. However, since they were pulling into the hospital’s parking lot, he took that as a strong sign to keep his mouth shut.

      He