Texas Miracle Page 8

  A squatter in the shed! Were they in danger? Maybe Mac was right about getting his gun. Why did she have to be so impulsive?

  Jacqueline looked from the items to Mac’s face and saw her own questions reflected there. Then, as though waking from a dream, Jacqueline heard breathing. She whipped around, pulling back the open door to find a small person crouched behind it. Eyes like coal stared up at her from a dirty brown face. It was a girl—a girl of about twelve.

  Jacqueline knelt beside her. “Hi.”

  The girl flinched as if someone had hit her.

  “Do you speak English?”

  No answer.

  “Habla español?”

  The girl’s eyes registered possible understanding, as though she could read their lips, but she shook her head slowly and then averted her gaze to stare at the floor.

  Mac knelt, as well. Jacqueline noticed that the girl’s eyes darted toward the door, but Mac’s big frame was a definite obstacle. Jacqueline tried again to communicate.

  The girl began to cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks, creating tiny muddy rivers. But instead of normal sobs, she made a wild, unearthly sound. It was then that Jacqueline understood. The girl was a deaf-mute.

  “Mac, do you have something I can write on?”

  Mac fished in his back pocket for his phone, and opened “Notes” on the screen. In Spanish, Jacqueline typed, “I am Jackie. The man is Mac. We want to help you.”

  She showed it to the girl, who, after reading it, looked only slightly less determined to bolt out of the shed.

  Jacqueline typed, “Are you hungry?”

  The girl nodded, her first sign of enthusiasm.

  Jacqueline typed again. “I will take you to get some food. I promise not to hurt you. Will you go with us?”

  The girl’s eyes scanned the shed, presumably assessing her lack of food stores. Their cold blackness rested uneasily on Mac, then traveled back to Jacqueline. Reluctantly, she nodded once.

  “Okay. Muy bien.” Jacqueline handed the phone back to Mac and rose to her feet. She held out her hand to the girl. The girl took it and Jacqueline helped her up. Mac stood as well and held open the door for them. Then he followed as they slowly made their way to the vehicles.

  “I’m going to take her to get a burger. Want to follow us to the Shake Shack?”

  Mac’s face was pale and there were new lines across his forehead. He clenched his jaw.

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  Jacqueline settled the little girl into the passenger seat and closed the door while Mac stood watching her from the driver’s side. Their eyes met as she climbed into the driver’s seat, and she thought he looked about as scared as the child. In contrast, Jacqueline’s confidence grew as she drove toward the restaurant. She was used to this kind of work and knew she could handle it. In fact, it made her feel alive.

  As they drove to the Shake Shack with Mac’s truck rumbling behind them, Jacqueline stole glances at her passenger. She wore dirty jeans with old tennis shoes tied in double knots. Her shirt was hot pink with some design that was half-hidden by her open jacket, a gray knit number lined with fleece. Her hair was long and badly in need of brushing. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, fingernails dirty and ragged.

  Jacqueline wondered how long she’d been in the shed. Surely, not very long. She hoped not, judging from the scarcity of food wrappers, and the fact there was no blanket, no other bedding. She shuddered to think of the child squatting in the winter cold. Jacqueline guessed she’d been there three or four days at most. But how did she get there? And where was she going?

  They pulled up to the Shake Shop. Jacqueline got out, and then opened the girl’s door for her, as Mac parked beside them. Then the threesome walked through the door, trying to ignore the stares from other patrons. They sat at the nearest booth. When a server appeared, Mac ordered burgers, fries and shakes for them all. Jacqueline felt so grateful, in that moment, for his support. She knew he was way outside his comfort zone.

  It was heartbreaking to watch the little girl eat. In those moments, she seemed more wild animal than human being, ravenously devouring every morsel, seeming not to breathe. Both Mac and Jacqueline put down their burgers, trying not to stare. But the little girl didn’t seem to notice what they were doing, or even remember they were with her. Her hunger was so powerful it consumed her.

  Mac spoke softly in English. “What are you thinking you’ll do? Tonight, I mean.”

  “I’m taking her home with me.”

  She saw him shudder. A muscle twitched in his already-clenched jaw. “Jacqueline. Think this through. I know people who can help. I have a friend who’s a social worker. We could call her.”

  “No.” Jacqueline took a deep breath. “Maybe tomorrow, and maybe not. You have to trust me, Mac. I have a feeling.”

  Mac closed his eyes. Jacqueline knew he was trying—understood somewhat where he was coming from. And she knew what she was asking him to do was next to impossible. But she really didn’t have time or energy just now for his issues with control. And while she appreciated his help, she didn’t require it.

  “I’m going to take her home. I need to do some research, try to figure out the best way to handle this—the best way for her.” By emphasizing the word, Jacqueline hoped Mac would get her point. This was not about him, or her own comfort. It was about helping a child.

  “Okay.” Mac got up to pay the bill. When he returned, his face had softened a bit. “Can I follow you home? Help you get settled?”

  “How about this?” Jacqueline countered. She dug in her purse for three twenty-dollar bills. “Would you mind going to Wal-Mart and picking up something for her to wear?”

  Mac looked at her as if she’d just sprouted horns from the top of her head. He quickly recovered. “I’d be—sure. Sure I will. But you’ll have to help me with size.”

  “I’d say size-ten pants and a twelve shirt. Get a couple of pairs, like leggings and/or sweats with matching shirts. And some cotton underwear.”

  Mac coughed as though choking on the thought.

  Jacqueline laughed. She continued, “And a package of socks.” She looked under the table at the girl’s feet. “Size six.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Some fuzzy pajamas would be nice.” She opened her purse again. “Here, let me give you another twenty.”

  Mac waved her money away. “I’ll see you back at your house.” He pecked her on the cheek and signaled goodbye to the girl, who lifted a hand to acknowledge him.

  * * *

  THE LITTLE GIRL fell asleep in the car on the way to Jacqueline’s house.

  Poor thing. She must be completely exhausted.

  After pulling into the driveway and turning off the key, Jacqueline dug in her bag for a piece of paper and something to write with. She gently nudged the girl’s shoulder. The girl jolted awake, crying out in her strange way.

  “Lo ciento. Lo ciento. It’s okay.” Jacqueline patted her softly on the arm. “Como se llama?” And motioned for the little girl to write.

  Taking the pen from Jacqueline’s hand, she wrote in a shaking scrawl: Angelina.

  “Angelina.” Jacqueline smiled. Little angel. She explained, as best as she could in broken Spanish, that this was her house and Angelina would be safe here. Then she took her in, introduced her to Nemesis, whose purring brought a smile, and started running a hot bath. Setting out her best towels, as well as a pair of her own pajamas, Jacqueline showed Angelina the shampoo and soap. Then she closed the door behind her to give the girl some privacy.

  While she was waiting for Angelina to bathe, she sat down at the table in her kitchen and opened her laptop. Typing in runaways, immigrants and Kilgore eventually led her to the local Department of Human Services. She’d need to talk to Mac about his friend, and the options, when he got t
here.

  Jacqueline heard the bathroom door open and close. Angelina emerged, looking clean and scrubbed and adorably swallowed by her pj’s. Her hollow eyes searched Jacqueline’s face for direction. Jacqueline rose. Draping an arm around her narrow shoulders, she led the child to her bedroom and turned back the covers on the bed. Angelina must have been too tired to question the situation. Jacqueline paused to thank God it was her and Mac who found the girl, and not some creep. Then she tucked in the covers under Angelina’s chin and patted her head.

  “Buenos noches. Sleep well.”

  Nemesis curled up at the foot of the bed in her usual spot. By the time Jacqueline closed the bedroom door behind her, the girl was snoring.

  Mac arrived a few moments later.

  “Santa Claus!” Jacqueline teased, letting him in with all of his bags.

  “Where is she?”

  Jacqueline lifted a finger to her lips. “Shh. She’s asleep.”

  “Where?”

  “On the kitchen table, where else?”

  Mac looked genuinely puzzled and Jacqueline rolled her eyes.

  “In my bed, of course.”

  “Jacqueline, you can’t sleep in there with her. Where are you going to sleep?”

  She see his anxiety level was rising. “Would you relax? I’m not exactly an idiot, you know.”

  “I know. It’s just...this is so strange, all of this.”

  “It’s okay. She’s safe and warm tonight. Come in here.” She motioned to the living room. “Show me what you bought.”

  Mac followed with the bags, starting to beam. Jacqueline grinned at him. Here was something he had control over. Something he could do. Something he could quantify.

  He opened the bags. “Here are the outfits. I hope she likes them.” He pulled out three sets of warm-ups and three pairs of leggings with matching tops. “I saw Madeline, the teenager who works for Star Stables sometimes. She was there with her mother. She helped me pick them out.”

  The clothes were cute—in bright colors and hip designs. Madeline had done well.

  “Oh, and I decided to get her a coat.” He pulled out a hot pink parka with fake fur around the hood. It looked much warmer than what Angelina had been wearing. “And here are socks, and you know, underwear.” Mac actually blushed.

  Jacqueline hugged him. “You did great. Fantastic, really.”

  “And one more thing.” He pulled out two pairs of fuzzy pajamas and some slippers to match. “I hope it all fits.”

  “We’ll find out tomorrow. But I think it’s totally perfect.” She kissed him. “Thank you, Mac.”

  “What are you going to do? I mean, have you decided?”

  “Well, from my work I’ve learned to trust the systems in place in the US for helping children like this. As much as I’d like to take things into my own hands, I don’t think that’s best for her. For this situation, all roads in Kilgore seem to lead to DHS. Is that where your friend works?”

  “She’s the director, Thelma Johnson. A great lady.”

  “I’ll go see her tomorrow, then.”

  His shoulders actually relaxed.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MAC MET JACQUELINE and Angelina, who was dressed in one of her new outfits, the next morning at the DHS office. Thelma Johnson had been his Sunday school teacher growing up, and remained, in his estimation, a person who truly lived her faith. With her quiet, faithful ways, Thelma dedicated her life to helping “the least of these.” Their paths didn’t cross a great deal, but she would always be one of Mac’s favorites. And he knew the feeling was mutual.

  As Mac hoped, Jacqueline and Thelma hit it off. Although Jacqueline wasn’t so grounded in her faith, she had a lot in common with Thelma—a similar mission in life. They spoke the same language. Jacqueline seemed satisfied by Thelma’s compassion for Angelina and, like Mac, trusted that she would do her best for her. He was sure if anyone could, Thelma would. Still, it was hard to tear Jacqueline away from Angelina when they finally left her in Thelma’s office holding her bag of new clothes.

  Mac felt he could breathe again—the first time since they had encountered Angelina—as they drove away. Jacqueline was so impulsive, so headstrong, it could have ended another way. Namely, Angelina could be living with Jacqueline indefinitely. And while Mac liked to think he was open to helping the less fortunate, this would have thrown his neatly ordered world into complete chaos. No, it was much better to let Thelma and her office handle the situation. Better for everyone involved. Even Jacqueline had seen that. Mac sighed, thankful to have dodged a bullet. He had other worries to tend to, though.

  Things with the baby, named Lilianna after Stella’s mother, Lily, and Joiner’s mother, Anna, were touch and go. It seemed she took one step forward and then two back. The biggest challenges for her tiny body were eating and breathing. Bradycardia was a constant worry, and every time she had an episode, it set back the timing for leaving the hospital. In order for Lilianna to go home, she needed to stop having episodes, and Stella and Joiner needed to learn to hold and feed her a certain way, as well as learn infant CPR.

  Finally, after four long weeks, the big day arrived. Mac was at his desk reviewing some figures when Joiner texted the brothers that they were on the way home. The time was 11:00 a.m.

  Hunt: Gillian and I are bringing supper at 6:00—enough for all of us.

  Cullen: The girls can’t wait to meet their cousin! We’ll be there, too.

  Mac thought about it, then walked out of his office and down the hall to Jacqueline’s desk. “I have a proposition for you.”

  She stopped what she was doing on the computer and looked up at him. “Okay?” She grinned.

  “Are you ready to meet my family?”

  He saw something like fear float across her eyes, but she was obviously interested. “What’s the deal?”

  “Joiner and Stella are on the way home with the baby—”

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh! That’s wonderful! I’m so glad for them.”

  “And we’re all going over tonight. Wanna come?”

  “Are you sure it’s the right time? I mean, I don’t want to be in the way. That’s a huge deal for your family.”

  “You’re kind of a big deal to me, too.” He knew he was asking her to risk some of her deeply valued privacy, to take another step toward the possibility of putting down roots, but recent experiences seemed to keep bringing them closer to each other. If she was going to be part of his life, she needed to meet his family. After all, they were a package deal. “I think it’s time.”

  “Well, okay, then. Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  JACQUELINE QUIT WORKING at five o’clock to go home and take care of Nemesis. Mac stayed at the office till five thirty and then left to go pick her up. When she opened the door, he noticed she’d changed into a more casual outfit. Edgy metallic skinny jeans were paired with a soft pink sweater and black leather riding boots that came up above her knees. A delicate lace scarf completed the look. It was the perfect balance of tough and tender.

  “Girl, you’ve got style.” He smiled at her approvingly.

  “Thanks.”

  She grabbed her keys from the plate on the table, along with her black leather jacket and a gift box that was swallowed by a huge pink bow. He closed the door behind her and escorted her to the truck, where he helped her up. Then he walked around to his side and got in, turning the key in the ignition. He revved the engine. “Those jeans should be illegal.”

  She scooted close to him and he breathed in the smell of jasmine. Feeling suddenly intoxicated by her presence, he turned to kiss her.

  “Don’t mess up my lipstick,” she warned. “I want to be presentable.”

  “I hope you’re not nervous.”
>
  “Well, I am.” She fiddled with the top of one of her boots.

  “Don’t be. You already know Joiner.”

  “Yes, but I haven’t seen him since high school. And I’ve never met Stella or any of the others.”

  “They will love you. Just be yourself.”

  When they pulled up to Joiner and Stella’s ranch-style home, Cullen’s station wagon and Gillian’s silver Volvo were already parked in the driveway. Smoke wafted from the stone chimney, and lights sparkled warmly from the many windows. Jacqueline checked her appearance in the rearview mirror of the truck. Mac squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  He opened the heavy wooden front door without knocking or waiting for anyone to let them in. When they walked inside, Stella looked up from the rocker, where she was holding the baby. “Mac!”

  All eyes that had previously been on Stella and Lilianna turned to the couple standing in the doorway. Joiner bounded toward them, reaching out to envelop Jacqueline in a side hug. Pumping her hand with his free one, he exclaimed, “Jacqueline Aimes! I can’t believe it. So good to see you. You look great.”

  Cullen and his girls were close behind. Mac introduced them one by one to Jacqueline. Cullen shook her hand warmly, saying, “Nice to meet you,” and the girls, who were usually chatterboxes, shyly followed suit. Meg, especially, seemed in awe of Jacqueline’s stylish beauty.

  “Where did you get that scarf?”

  “Bangladesh. A woman’s group there makes them.”

  “How cool.” Meg fingered the lace.

  Mac guided Jacqueline toward Stella and the baby. “And Jacqueline, this is Joiner’s wife, Stella, and our new baby girl!”

  Jacqueline bent on one knee to see the baby.

  Stella smiled. “I’m glad to finally meet you, Jacqueline. Mac has told us so much about you.” She glanced up at Mac.

  “It’s nice to meet you, as well. What a beautiful little girl.” Jacqueline’s eyes were locked on Lilianna’s face.

  “Would you like to hold her?”