The Secret Christmas Child. Lee Tobin McClain
sports, and games, and having meals together.” Reese hesitated, not wanting to call the older man out, but he needed to speak up for his boys. “Rather than calling them kids in trouble, I prefer to call them kids at risk.”
“Are we a church who won’t take risks?” Nana’s best friend, Bernadette Williams, was the oldest member of the board, though only by a year or two. “Risks are how great things get accomplished. I like what Reese is doing. These young people need something to bring out the best in them. Reese knows about that, and he’ll do a good job with it.”
“Hear, hear,” came a voice from the small audience. It sounded like Nana, but Reese couldn’t see her.
If Nana was here, did that mean Gabby was, as well?
Reese scanned the room. Board members sat at a large conference table, and interested members of the congregation occupied several rows of chairs at the back of the room.
He hoped some of the other board members would speak up in support, but they were silent.
Reese knew why. They respected Bernadette’s opinions, but Mr. Romano’s money funded so many of the church’s outreaches that everyone was hesitant to offend him.
Time to bring out the big guns. “I have here a copy of the church’s mission,” Reese said, pulling it up on his smartphone. “To spread the gospel of Jesus, through actions as much as through words, with a special mission for the poor.” He looked up and focused on Bernadette’s smiling face. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’d like to respectfully request continuation of funding for the next calendar year.”
Mr. Romano must have heard the murmurs of approval throughout the room, because he switched tactics. “I wasn’t expecting the program to be right next door to me,” he said. “You have those kids on the edge of town, close to some of our bigger homes, where stealing is a big temptation. Don’t they pose a danger to the community?”
“They’re well supervised, and we haven’t had any problems with the after-school program.” Thus far, the kids had limited their bad behavior to arguing with each other. Well, and nearly coming to blows, but there was no need to mention that. “As for the property, I did a lot of due diligence,” Reese went on. “I leased the best property I could find, for the best price. I want to be a good steward of the donors’ resources.”
“Yeah, well, that property has always been an eyesore.” Mr. Romano’s grumble was quiet, but Reese heard it and winced inwardly. He hated to see the old man reduced to insults.
“Permission to speak?” The clear voice from the audience belonged to Nana. So she was here. There was some shifting around as Gabby helped her to stand and walk out to a small podium set up in the aisle between the rows of chairs.
Reese’s heart gave a great thump. He hadn’t seen Gabby at church, and now the sight of her in a green sweater, denim skirt and high boots went directly to his heart.
Reese’s neck heated. He wanted to impress her—still, which was ridiculous—and he wasn’t looking exactly stellar right now.
Not that that mattered. Not at all. He wasn’t trying to build a relationship with Gabby; it would never work, and besides that, he wasn’t even interested. She’d dumped him before and she’d do it again.
“I believe there’s something in the Bible that talks about not building up mansions on earth,” Nana said. “If I don’t want to spend money making my house a showpiece, I have my reasons for it. I donate to the church’s outreach programs. And while I can’t donate as much cash as some—” she eyed Santiago Romano “—I do what I can. Including giving this program an excellent deal on rental of the barn and fields.”
“There’s no Bible verse about not building mansions, Estelle,” Mr. Romano said, a smile in his voice.
“I can quote it.” Nana glared at him. “‘Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal.’ Matthew six, verses nineteen and twenty.”
“There’s more to that passage,” Mr. Romano sputtered.
“Yes, there is.” Nana was still standing, and now she pointed a bony finger at Mr. Romano. “It has to do with laying up treasures in heaven, which is what this young man—” she nodded at Reese “—is trying to do.”
Mr. Romano still looked ready to argue. He opened his mouth.
“And what’s more,” Nana said, cutting him off, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. That’s in the book of Matthew, sir, said by our Lord Himself. Even you can’t argue with Jesus.”
Reese could barely stifle a laugh at how thoroughly Nana had shut down Mr. Romano.
Gabby put an arm around Nana and encouraged her back into her seat as murmurs went through the crowd. Some were amused, because the feud between Mr. Romano and Nana went back years. Some sounded more disapproving; a board member behind Reese was speaking, and Reese overheard the words inappropriate and not the right place.
Bernadette cleared her throat and stood, and the room quieted down. “I do have a concern, Reese,” she said. “Do you have enough help to run this Christmas-break program, given that your main assistant had to leave unexpectedly?”
“I’m in the process of hiring a new assistant,” Reese said.
“Tammy?” Bernadette’s voice held the faintest tinge of skepticism. Around the room, people were looking at one another, and Reese knew why. Tammy’s heart was in the right place, but she didn’t have a reputation for being focused and responsible.
“No,” Reese said before the murmurs could rise louder. “The candidate I’m working with has most of a degree in education and a lot of good ideas.”
“May I ask who it is? Someone from Bethlehem Springs?” Bernadette was still standing.
While Reese was glad she had taken charge of the discussion, getting Mr. Romano off center stage, he knew how insistent Bernadette could be when it was a question of doing the right thing. “It’s Gabby Hanks,” he said.
A murmur rose in the room. Reese looked around, wondering what it was about.
But Bernadette gave a nod, put her hands on her hips and looked around the room until the murmuring stopped. “I suggest we see what Reese can do. If he manages the children well through this break, then we’ll know the program can be expanded, and we’ll have a better basis to fund it through the next year.”
“But how will we know if he manages it well?” the board’s accountant, Mike Watson, asked. “What criteria are we using? How will we assess the outcomes?”
Bernadette opened her mouth to speak, but there was another flurry back in Nana’s part of the room, and then Gabby stood. Her cheeks were pink, her mouth determined. “How about if we have the kids and animals do some kind of a performance for the church? A Christmas performance?”
“What’s your vision, Gabby?” Bernadette asked. “How would that help us assess the results?”
Reese didn’t know how he’d lost control of this discussion, but he needed to take it back. He opened his mouth to speak.
Gabby gave him a look, and because of their history together, he read it instantly. I’ve got this, relax, she seemed to say with her eyes. “If the boys are able to work together toward a productive goal that entertains the community, that’ll show that they can work toward other productive goals,” she said. “And by attending and supporting the performance, the church members can show that they understand our mission.” She looked pointedly at Santiago Romano as she said it.
Reese hid a small smile. Despite the fact that this was likely to be a disaster, he admired Gabby’s spunk.
Gabby glanced at Reese, then went on. “The Sunday before Christmas, or