The Courage To Dream and The Power Of Love. Margaret Daley
you want to stay, I’ll stay.” He sat down and waited, resting his elbows on his knees and loosely clasping his hands.
In the dim moonlight Gabriel saw the boy’s mouth twist into a deep frown, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Finally Peter took a seat and tried to ignore Gabriel. That was all right with him. He knew dealing with Peter would call upon his patience, and thankfully God had given him a huge reserve. Peter slumped and rested his chin in his palms.
“Your mom’s worried about you,” Gabriel said a few minutes later.
Peter stiffened, bringing his head up.
“Don’t you think we should at least give her a call and let her know you’re all right?”
“She doesn’t care about me.”
“Well, she certainly had me fooled earlier on the phone. I could have sworn I heard her crying.”
Peter remained silent, leaning forward, his chin on his fist, as though settling in for the night. He fixed his gaze on the baseball field, illuminated by the three-quarter moon.
Gabriel retrieved his cell phone from his shirt pocket and dialed Rebecca’s number. “Peter’s okay,” he said when Rebecca answered on the first ring, and quickly filled her in on where he’d found Peter.
There was a moment’s hesitation, then she asked, “Is there—did he cause any problems?”
“No,” Gabriel said, not sure if Peter had vandalized the field house or not. His brief inspection on his way to the stands had revealed nothing wrong. “I’ll bring him home soon.”
“Thank you, Gabriel. I don’t…” Her voice trailed into silence.
“You’re welcome, Rebecca. Peter and I will see you in a while.”
“Is she mad?”
Gabriel remembered the silence at the end, a vulnerable pause in her sentence while she tried to gather her composure. “She’s more worried than anything.”
“She’s always worried.”
“What about?” Gabriel asked, wanting to keep the fragile conversation going but realizing he wanted to know so much more about Rebecca Michaels than he did.
“Josh, Granny, money—me.”
“I find that moms worry a lot. I think that’s part of being a mother. Mine still worries about me, and I’m thirty-six years old and have been away from home for seventeen years.”
“Yeah, well, I can take care of myself. I don’t need nobody to worry about me.”
Gabriel smiled at Peter’s tough-sounding voice and remembered once there had been a time he’d thought the same thing. God had proven him wrong. God had shown him he wasn’t alone in this world.
“Even when you’re able to take care of yourself, it’s nice to know someone is there for you.”
“I don’t need nobody,” Peter said, the strength in his voice lessening slightly.
For a brief moment Gabriel felt himself hurled back twenty years. He had declared that same thing to his mother after his father had died, leaving him the man of the house with three younger siblings. In his anger he had nearly lost his way until his grandfather had shown him the power of the Lord’s love. That power had been strengthened when Gabriel had lost his wife and son—a son who wouldn’t be much older than Josh. Emotions he thought were behind him surfaced, knotting his throat. He had so wanted a family.
“It can get mighty lonely going through life by yourself,” Gabriel finally said, twisting his wedding ring as memories of the day Judy had slid it on his finger seeped into his thoughts. He had never taken it off.
“But at least no one can let—” Peter snapped his mouth closed.
“Let you down?”
In the moonlight Peter tensed, his jaw clamped tight.
“Who let you down, Peter?”
“Nobody!” Peter shot to his feet. “I can find my own way home.”
Gabriel rose. “No, I told your mother I would bring you home, and I’m going to do what I promised. You’ll find that I always do.”
“Fine!” The child shoved past him and hastened to the squad car.
Gabriel peered heavenward, noting the clear sky, the stars glittering in the blackness. The spring air was warm, the light breeze carrying a hint of honeysuckle. Perfect—except for the storm brewing at the Michaels’s house. He felt Peter’s anger as though it were a palpable force, reaching out to push everyone away. The child was determined to stand alone no matter who got in his way.
When Gabriel slid behind the steering wheel, he turned to Peter and asked, “Why did you come to the field tonight?”
The boy shrugged.
“Have you been thinking about my offer to join the team?”
“No way.” Peter answered so fast Gabriel knew the opposite was true.
“If you don’t want to play, I could use an assistant.”
“I’m sure I won’t be able to do anything for a while. Mom’s gonna ground me longer for leaving the house. I’ll probably not be able to do anything till summer.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“’Cause I felt like it.”
Gabriel heard the pout and stubbornness in the child’s voice and again thought of how he had been after his father’s death, so angry at the world. “What if I can get your mother to let you come out for the team?”
“Sure, why not. It beats staying in that old house. But I ain’t gonna play.”
Gabriel started the car, careful to keep from grinning. Once he had Peter at the baseball field, he would get the boy involved in the team as more than an assistant. Of course, he had to convince Rebecca to allow Peter to practice after school. Normally he wouldn’t think that was a problem, but with Rebecca, he didn’t know what to expect.
Rebecca answered the door on the first knock, throwing her arms around Peter’s stiff body and pulling him against her. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” She stood him away from her and inspected him as though afraid he had been hurt. “Why did you leave?”
Her son shuffled back a few steps and looked at his feet. “I needed some fresh air.” He lifted his head and fixed his gaze on her.
Rebecca wanted to shake some sense into him but knew anger wouldn’t bring about the peace she so desperately needed. She balled her hands at her sides and counted to ten. When she still wasn’t calm, she started for one hundred. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Peter’s chin went up a notch. “Why not now? You’re just gonna ground me.”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I do know that I need to calm down first or I might regret what I say.”
“Tell him—” Peter nodded toward Gabriel “—that I’m grounded and won’t be able to help with the baseball team after school.”
“Why, that’s a great idea, Peter. You should become involved with a sport.”
“Oh, good grief.” Her son tramped across the entrance hall.
“Peter, I’ll see you Monday right after school at the field. Wear your tennis shoes,” Gabriel called as the boy fled up the stairs.
At the top her son stopped. “I might be busy. Mrs. Harris wants to see me.”
“Then come as soon as you can.”
Peter frowned, started to say something else, then stalked toward his bedroom.
“Mrs.