Home to Safe Harbor. Kate Welsh

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Home to Safe Harbor - Kate  Welsh


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pinned in their cars.

      “I’ve got to go. I know it’s an imposition, but if I can’t get back in time, could you make sure the girls get home okay? Les knows to make our neighbors, the Hunters, aware that they’re alone. I went to college with both of them, and I trust them with the kids. Ray and Julie were the ones who put me on to the opening for Chief of Police here in Safe Harbor. This has never happened before, but I set it up with them in case of emergencies like this. Knowing the house next door to theirs was up for sale made the move here all the more attractive.”

      Justine nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to answer his question, yet embarrassed by the cause. “I’ll see the children get home. Don’t worry. Just go. The accident sounds dreadful.”

      After he left, Justine floated from age group to age group, checking on how the senior citizens who’d volunteered were getting along with the children. Everything seemed to be going fine so she returned to her makeshift desk to find Leslie just leaving the kitchen area.

      “Oh, hi, Reverend Clemens,” the girl said, her hands fluttering nervously. “I was just…uh…getting a drink. Helping the little kids is kind of fun. Well, see ya.”

      Justine frowned as she watched Leslie skip up the steps on her way back to the classroom wing. There were water fountains in the halls. Why hadn’t Leslie used one of them? She walked into the kitchen and looked around. There was a paper lunch bag in a trash can—a can Justine had emptied after the women’s altar guild left earlier in the day.

      She dismissed the whole incident until the next day. As she checked the building before locking up, Justine got an impulse to check the trash: once again, there was a lunch bag in the can. It contained a sandwich, an apple and some carrot sticks. She wished she’d checked the one the day before because this time she found the initials LT on the bottom. Leslie Trent? Why would the girl throw out her lunch?

      The same thing happened for the next two days, and Justine’s curiosity turned to concern. Matt’s daughter was secretly disposing of her lunches.

      Deeply troubled, Justine thought back to the first time she’d seen the girl during the summer. There was no denying that Matt’s eldest child was increasingly fragile looking. Justine had thought the girl was just getting taller and losing baby fat, but now she was afraid it was more. Something was wrong, and these lunch bags were a clue.

      It took another day to put her finger on what. When Justine pulled yet another bag from the trash on Friday, she remembered an article she’d read in a ministry periodical on eating disorders.

      How was she going to tell Matt there was a chance his daughter was suffering from anorexia?

      It was Friday, and Matt was looking forward to a whole weekend off. He’d managed to plow through a mountain of backed-up paperwork and was out of work an hour earlier than usual. It was a beautiful afternoon. All day he thought about taking the girls for a short hike up at Safe Harbor Park, and there was still enough light left to do so. Russ Mitchard said the park had the best wilderness trails on the peninsula.

      Matt had just cleared the front door of the church building when he ran into Justine. Literally. He managed to catch her before she fell. Her scent surrounded him and she felt wonderful in his arms as she stared up at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher.

      “I’m…uh…I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping back, giving him no choice but to let her go.

      “Not your fault I came barreling in here and knocked you for a loop. I was in a hurry to pick up the girls. I thought we’d go for a hike before the light fails.”

      “Oh. But I really need to talk to you.”

      The disappointment in Justine’s face gave him a shot of pleasure. “So come with us.” The words had just popped out of his mouth. Too late, he noticed her outfit. She wasn’t really dressed for a hike. She had on a long top and slacks made of a velvety soft material that was pretty but casual.

      “I…no, you don’t understand. I need to talk about Leslie.”

      Confusion assailed him along with a sense of disappointment that she only wanted to talk to him about his daughter. “Leslie? Is she not settling in? She said this was working out okay.”

      “As far as I know it is. She’s been getting on just fine. It isn’t that she’s any trouble.” Justine paused. “It’s something else. Have you noticed her losing weight lately? A lot of weight?”

      Matt frowned. What was she getting at? “Les is getting taller, that’s all. Her clothes still fit, so she couldn’t have lost weight. You wouldn’t know this because you don’t have kids, but every once in a while they shoot up and look thinner. I guess they don’t grow everything at once. At her age, I grew six inches in one summer and didn’t gain an ounce. I could hardly keep my pants up.”

      Justine didn’t crack a smile. He watched as she took a deep breath. “Matt, I’ve found her lunch in the trash four days in a row. Earlier today when I asked her why, she said she doesn’t like what you pack but doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

      Leslie normally packed all of the lunches, but he wasn’t about to tell Justine that. She seemed to be implying he wasn’t taking good care of his kids. Or that they were afraid to speak their minds.

      Brother. He was batting a thousand lately. First Mary and Seth, two people he’d thought of as parents since marrying their daughter, had begun doubting his ability to raise the girls without their mother and criticizing his every decision. And now the first person he’d been attracted to since Diane’s death was calling him an incompetent parent.

      “Leslie can say anything to me she wants,” he growled. “And she knows it. If she’d said she wanted something else for lunch, I’d have seen she had it.”

      “I have no doubt of that. I don’t think she wants something else for lunch. In fact, Gina told me it’s Leslie who makes the lunches.”

      “I don’t appreciate your questioning my children, Reverend.”

      Justine stiffened. It was as if he saw a barrier form around her.

      “I didn’t question Gina, Chief Trent. She offered the information in one of her sweet, running advertisements for a mother. I came to you with a concern for your child. Not to inspire an attack on my motives. I’m terribly afraid Leslie may have an eating disorder.”

      Matt shook his head. There was nothing wrong with his Leslie. She was losing her baby fat. And she’d gotten taller. Hadn’t he said that already?

      Justine stepped forward and put her hand on his forearm. He could see her concern for Leslie in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

      “I’m not criticizing. A blind man could see how much you love those girls. But you can’t afford to be blind to their faults and problems. Matt, please don’t discount what I’m saying. Watch her. Carefully. If I’m right, and I pray I’m not, this can be very dangerous. Anorexia is insidious and it’s a silent killer.”

      “Leslie’s fine,” he insisted.

      Before Justine could once again rebut his assertion, the clamor of little feet sounded down the hall from the classroom wing.

      Minutes later he had both the little ones with him and watched Leslie strolling along the hall and down the steps. All at once she looked so alone to him. Maybe watching her closely wouldn’t be such a bad idea. After all, the girls were in this program because he’d been worried about Les.

      As they started to put dinner together, Matt made it a point to notice if Leslie really did pick at what they were making for dinner. He felt guilty and almost sneaky. As if he were spying on her.

      “Don’t you like dinner, Les?” he felt compelled to ask when he noticed how little of her meal she was actually eating. They all sat around the big maple table Diane had so lovingly restored. As far as Diane had been concerned, family meals were the center of the universe.

      “Dinner’s


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