Gabriel's Discovery. Felicia Mason
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looked in the direction she indicated. “There you go again, honey. Just because we’re about to tie the knot doesn’t mean everyone else is headed down the aisle, too. Knowing Susan, she’s probably trying to talk him into being on the shelter’s board of directors or giving a donation to Galilee. You are in the middle of a big fund-raising drive.”
Jessica considered that. “You could be right,” she conceded. “But I doubt it,” she muttered as she watched her pastor and her boss laugh together, sharing a bag of popcorn.
She eyed Sam as an idea began to form—a deliciously naughty idea. She’d have to work fast and get some help to pull it off, though. And she knew just who she could tap to make it happen.
Gabriel had big plans for the church he’d recently been called to pastor. Colorado Springs was a beautiful city with clean streets, fresh air and plenty of outdoor activities to keep people engaged in wholesome fun.
But since his arrival at Good Shepherd, a dark cloud had descended over the city. He’d been to three city council meetings as well as a citizen’s watch session in his own gated neighborhood. The one question on everyone’s minds was how to combat the effects of a crime and drug spree that seemed to have blanketed the city almost overnight.
Part of his mission was to create a better quality of life for his congregation. For Gabriel, spirituality was included in quality of life.
As he walked over to greet the recording artist who’d perform the afternoon concert, he thought about Susan Carter. If nothing else, she was persistent and dedicated. However, he seriously doubted that one little shelter could play a big role in revitalizing the city. He looked forward to seeing her again—even though he had no intention whatsoever of telling her why he’d really been ducking calls from her agency.
Her mission accomplished, Susan enjoyed the rest of the afternoon with the girls. As they headed across to the parking lot, she glanced down at the unusually quiet twins. One thing she’d definitely grown used to was their constant chatter. They talked about any—and everything—all the time. And the questions! Everything they saw, heard or even thought about came out in the form of questions. They kept Susan on her toes.
But now they walked in silence.
“All right,” she said. “What’s up? Didn’t you guys have a good time? You were singing along during the concert.”
“We had a good time,” Hannah said, her voice slow and quiet.
“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, equally as unenthusiastic.
“Then why the long faces and the silent treatment? I’m not used to that.”
The girls looked at each other, then paused.
Concerned now, Susan stopped and stooped so she was eye level with her girls. “Hannah? Sarah?”
“Mommy,” Sarah began. “You know how you’re always telling us—”
“—to look for the signs that somebody’s getting hurt?” Hannah finished.
Susan nodded. She’d be remiss as a mom and as the director of a women’s shelter if her own children didn’t know what to look out for. She didn’t want them growing up the way she did, then as an adult making the same kinds of bad choices or living in an abusive relationship.
The girls both bit their bottom lips, mirror images of each other. Susan tried to tamp down the panic she suddenly felt. If anyone had hurt her girls…
“Mommy?” Hannah’s voice trembled.
Susan gathered both girls in her arms. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” she told them. “I promise.”
Sarah was crying now. Seeing her sister cry made Hannah cry, too. Susan’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. She held them too tight, but their distress freaked her out.
“Tell me what happened, girls. Please.”
“It’s Jasmine,” Hannah said, choking back tears. Both girls clung to Susan as tightly as she held them.
Caught up in scenarios that ranged from someone inappropriately touching the girls to an all-out assault on one or both of them, Susan didn’t hear the name.
What if someone at the picnic had tried to kidnap them? “Shh,” she said, trying to calm herself as much as she did them. Few things rattled her twin dynamos, so this rated all the more frightening. “Tell Mommy what happened, okay?”
“It’s Jasmine,” Sarah repeated, pulling a long braid over her shoulder and sticking a purple bead in her mouth. “She’s over there.”
Susan turned in the direction that both girls pointed. “Jasmine? A classmate from school?”
The girls nodded.
Though still concerned, Susan wanted to weep in relief. She instead swallowed and took a deep, balancing breath. “What’s wrong with Jasmine?”
“She has bruises on her arm,” Hannah said.
“And she always says she just fell down,” Sarah added.
Susan studied the little girl who quietly stood next to a tall, thin woman. “Is that her mother?” She hadn’t recalled seeing the woman at any of the school’s PTA meetings or parent-teacher nights.
“Uh-huh.” The twins spoke and nodded in unison.
The woman was in her mid-thirties or maybe forties, tall, thin and tired-looking. Susan knew the look. She couldn’t very well go up and confront the woman or the girl. But she did take a long look at the mother. Sadness or maybe weariness—possibly wariness?—ringed her eyes. Susan’s gaze swept the area, looking for a possible threat to either the woman or the child.
“Do you ever talk to Jasmine’s mom?” she asked Hannah and Sarah.
“Sometimes. But she falls down a lot, too.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. She searched for a companion, but both the woman and the girl seemed rooted where they stood. Possibly waiting for someone?
“Mommy, can you help her?”
“Yes,” Susan told her girls. “I’ll see if anything’s wrong and if it is, I’ll try to help them both. I promise.”
Chapter Three
From where he stood saying farewell to picnic-goers, Gabriel watched Susan Carter embrace her daughters. The scene filled him with a longing he’d, until now, managed to mostly ignore. For all his talk about being willing to wait for a wife and the family that would eventually come, the fact of the matter was simple: Gabriel Dawson was lonely.
Not the sort of loneliness that made people do irrational and potentially dangerous things, like meet an Internet chat buddy for the first time in a secluded location. He instead suffered from the same affliction that plagued a lot of single people his age: the “no one to talk to at the end of the day” blues.
That wasn’t the sort of thing a single minister liked to broadcast, particularly given the matchmaking penchant of some of his parishioners. He led an active life, always had, but sometimes—like now, watching Susan and her daughters—he had to wonder if he filled his time with projects and people in an effort to escape what would otherwise be unbearable.
His sort of loneliness couldn’t be cured with a pet, though he’d seriously considered adopting a dog from one of the city’s animal rescue groups. Growing up, his family always had dogs in the house and yard, at least three. Gabriel came from a large, loud family. People were always underfoot and in his business. That’s the sort of thing he missed. Though his brothers and sister lived all across the country now, they still remained as close as e-mail and phone calls, and two trips back to Carolina each year.
“This was a lot of fun, Pastor Gabriel. Thanks for keeping up the tradition.”
Not given to long moments of introspection,