The Courage To Dream and The Power Of Love. Margaret Daley

The Courage To Dream and The Power Of Love - Margaret Daley


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“I’ll wait. Can I help with anything else?”

      She shook her head while she hurried the cleaning, the nape of her neck tingling where she imagined him staring.

      “May I ask you a question?”

      She pivoted toward him, clasping the edge of the kitchen table she had been wiping. Her legs felt weak, as though the strength had suddenly been siphoned from them. “Shoot.” She laughed nervously. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that to a policeman.”

      That warm smile of his touched his mouth again. “Josh doesn’t just have Down’s syndrome, he has something else wrong with him, doesn’t he?”

      Her grip tightened until her knuckles turned white. “Yes. He has spina bifida. His spine isn’t developed. The doctors told me that he would never walk, talk or do anything.”

      “I’m sorry. That has to be hard on you.”

      Rebecca stared into his troubled gaze for a long moment, then shoved away from the table and draped the washcloth over the edge of the sink. “It’s harder on Josh,” she finally said as she headed for the living room.

      She came to a stop in the doorway, aware that Gabriel was right behind her, looking over her shoulder. Peter clasped Josh under the arms and was helping him across the carpet. Tears returned to block her throat. Every night Peter practiced “walking” with Josh. Her oldest son was determined that Josh would one day play sports with him. That, according to the doctors, would never happen, and she didn’t have the heart to tell Peter.

      Gabriel set his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to whisper, “You’re lucky to have such a nice family.”

      The wistful tone in his voice made Rebecca ache for what he must have lost when his wife died. His words helped her focus on what was right with her life. “Yes, thank you for reminding me of that.”

      When he dropped his hands, she immediately missed the warmth of his touch.

      Through the fog of sleep, Rebecca heard the doorbell ringing. She dragged herself out of bed, slipped on her robe, then hurried to the front door. She peered out the peephole and saw Gabriel Stone. Why was he here at this hour? Then a thought struck her, and she quickly opened the door. Standing next to the police chief was Peter, for a second time in one day wearing a defiant expression on his face.

      “Sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I found your son running from a house that had just been egged.”

      “Whose house?”

      “Mine.”

      “Peter Michaels, what do you have to say for yourself?”

      Her son looked away, his frown deepening, his mouth pinched as though he wouldn’t say a word no matter what.

      A chill swept her. Rebecca pulled her terry-cloth robe tighter about her and stepped to the side. “Please come in. I don’t want to discuss this out on the porch for the whole town to hear.”

      Gabriel made sure that Peter entered the house before he came inside. “I’m willing to forget this incident. Since tomorrow’s Saturday Peter can come by my house to clean up the mess.”

      “He’ll be there. And when he’s through cleaning up the eggs, he can do some other chores for you.”

      “I’ll take care of my mess, but that’s all.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest, his features arranged in a stubborn expression.

      Rebecca drew in a deep, bracing breath, so tired from no sleep and unpacking that all she wanted to do was collapse into a chair to have this discussion with her son. She gripped the banister, using it to support her weight. “That’s not debatable.” She looked toward Gabriel. “What time do you want us there?”

      “Eight will be fine, if that’s not too early for you.”

      “Are you kidding? I’m up at the crack of dawn with Josh.”

      “You can’t make me!” Peter shouted, running up the stairs. “I won’t go!”

      Rebecca’s first instinct was to hurry after her eldest, but when she heard his bedroom door slam shut, she winced and decided it wouldn’t do any good. She might say something she would regret, because at the moment her patience was worn thin.

      “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I hated to have to bring him home this way and at such an hour.”

      She shook her head. “You did the only thing you could. I didn’t even know he was gone. He’s never sneaked out before.” She attempted a smile that she knew faltered. “At least not that I’m aware of. I’m afraid lately I don’t know what my son is thinking or doing.” She ran her hand through her hair, suddenly conscious of the fact that she must look a mess.

      Gabriel smiled. “He’ll come around when he gets used to Oakview. It’s hard moving to a new town.”

      “We used to be very close until…” Rebecca couldn’t finish the thought. She was tired of thinking about the past and what used to be.

      “You don’t have to come tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure Peter does what he needs to do and I’ll put him to work after he cleans up the eggs.”

      Rebecca straightened from the banister. “Peter’s my problem, not yours. We’ll be there tomorrow morning at eight sharp.”

      “If you need any help—”

      “I appreciate the kind offer, but I’m fine.” Rebecca walked to the front door and opened it.

      Gabriel paused in the entrance and turned to say something but stopped when he saw her standing so proud and untouchable. She didn’t know how to accept his help, and he wouldn’t make things worse by saying anything else to her. She had enough to deal with. But it didn’t stop his desire to wipe the sadness from her eyes.

      He nodded, murmured, “Till tomorrow,” and strode away from her house.

      He climbed into the squad car and sat for a few minutes staring at a light in one of the upstairs bedrooms. The silence of the night soothed him, and he bowed his head. “Please, Lord, give me the guidance I need to help Rebecca and her children.” He closed his eyes, drawing strength from the knowledge that He would be with him, that He would show him how to help Rebecca, Peter and Josh.

      When Gabriel started the car, he felt calm, at peace as he always did after he communicated with God. He started to back out of the driveway when the radio sounded in the quiet. He responded to the call from the station, knowing it wouldn’t be good.

      “Stone here.”

      “There has been some vandalism at the school baseball field. Thought you might want to know, sir. I called your house, and when there wasn’t an answer, I thought you might be out.”

      “Thanks, Bob. I’ll head over there and take a look.”

      When Gabriel arrived at the baseball field, he immediately noticed the large window on the side of the main building was shattered. Taking his flashlight, he checked the area outside before shining the light through the smashed window, glass shards glittering on the concrete floor. Relieved to find the inside undisturbed, he headed for the front to have a closer look around. By the door he stepped on a broken egg in the gravel.

      Peter Michaels. Of course, he had no proof the damage had been done by the boy, but he would stake his career on it. Peter might not realize it, but Gabriel could tell when someone was crying out for help and he intended to give the boy that help, starting first thing tomorrow morning.

      Rebecca pushed the bell again and heard its blare so she knew it was working. Suddenly the door jerked open, and she automatically stepped back. Gabriel with messed-up hair and a day’s growth of beard greeted her with a puzzled look.

      “What time is it?” he asked, combing his fingers through his conservatively styled black hair.

      “Eight.” She curled her fingers around the handle of the stroller


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