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Show Me Love

By Helen Gray

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Chapter 1
A box sailed through the air.
Quick as a flash Dara Collier reached up and snagged it.
“Good catch,” echoed across the room from the teen who had tossed it.
Dara placed it on the table next to a stack of boxed toiletries.
“Here’s some.” Three-year-old Chad came dragging a box that was nearly as big as him across the floor. He grunted and strained, his feet slipping on the tile floor.
Dara watched the child, whose dark eyes were luminous beneath a cap of dark hair, her heart beating with joy—and trepidation. Adopting him meant everything to her.
Lord, I can’t lose him. Please don’t let anything stop the adoption from happening. I love him.
He stopped next to a table and peered up, measuring how to get his box up there.
“Here we go.” Laughing, one of the teenage boys came and picked up the box. He looked inside, said, “More snacks,” and set it on the food table.
Chad shoved his chest out and slapped his hands together, as if he had done the deed himself. The older boys showed no sign of resenting their tagalong, and even encouraged him when he tried to emulate their mannerisms and speech. He loved any opportunity to be around the older students.
Every Tuesday after school they had choir practice for the children and youth at the church. Zeb Miller, the music minister, directed the youth while his wife, Karla, worked with the pre-school group. Dara led the middle children. Once a month the youth stayed after practice and prepared care packages to send to the military troops in combat zones. Dara and Chad usually stayed to help.
Pastor Glen came through the doorway, speaking over his shoulder to someone behind him. “This is our current fellowship hall. The new addition will extend out from here on the west and south sides.” He paused to survey the scene, and then his eyes focused on Dara. “This is one of our children’s choir directors, Dara Collier.”
As the person the pastor was speaking to stepped through the door behind him, Dara’s hands froze in midair. Her heart forgot to function, and the box of individually wrapped hard candies slipped from her hands. Candy bounced across the floor like a bevy of leaping, riotous colored grasshoppers.
Don’t stare like an idiot.
She stared anyhow, frozen in disbelief as time caught up with her. At thirty-two Jared Fletcher was more handsome than ever. Six foot of darkly tanned masculinity, he had ebony hair neatly trimmed over a square forehead, thick dark brows, high cheekbones, and a strong chin. Wearing brown slacks and a pale yellow shirt, a pleasant scent of aftershave drifted from him.
Jared stared back without moving, his gaze pinpoint sharp. “Dara Collier?” He stressed the surname, the expression on his face a strange mixture of surprise, consternation, puzzlement and …anger?
Dara gulped. Of course it was still Collier. After having her heart mangled and thrown back at her by him, she meant to stay single all her life. She tried to keep her vision aimed high, but stole a glance at his left ring finger. It was bare. She jerked her gaze upward.
The middle-aged pastor’s brow wrinkled as he stared down at the candy-littered floor,
and then back and forth between Dara and Jared. “You two know one another?”
“We met years ago.” Jared’s voice was low and even. Controlled.
“What are you doing here?” Dara asked, determined to appear unaffected.
“He’s interested in bidding on the construction contract for our new building addition,” Pastor Glen explained when Jared didn’t respond at once. “I’m showing him the existing facility so he can get a full picture of what we want in the new educational space.”
He lived in Sedalia now?
Don’t wonder about it. Doesn’t matter.
“I see.” Dara knelt and began to scoop candies back into the box.
Jared and Glen both squatted to help. Teenagers scuttled after stray pieces.
Dara focused on the candy.
“Are you full-time here at the church?” Jared asked when the floor was cleaned up and they all stood. “Didn’t you go into teaching as you had planned?”
Dara swallowed, having no choice but to meet his piercing gaze. “I’m just a volunteer here at the church. I teach music at Horace Mann Elementary.”
She had returned four years ago to become a teacher, and then a mother, and found comfort in the work she did here at the church. Unable to help herself, Dara drank in the sight of Jared, noting faint hollows in his cheeks. “It’s good to see you again,” she managed to say without strangling.
Hypocrite.
"Same here." Jared returned his attention to the pastor. “Shouldn’t we get on with the tour?”
“I suppose so.” Glen gave each of them another quizzical look. “Maybe you two should get together and talk. Dara chairs our finance committee, and she will be the beneficiary of one of the new choir rooms. She could probably answer any questions you might have.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Jared said without inflection.
With a polite nod Glen turned to go.
As Jared pivoted and followed the pastor, Dara inhaled deeply and forced herself to get back to work.
*
In the hallway, Jared had trouble concentrating on the pastor’s commentary as they continued the tour. “Huh?” he said when he realized he had been asked a question.
“How soon could you start construction if you should be the low bidder?” the pastor repeated, his expression quizzical again.
Jared struggled to get his thoughts back in order. “I need to check a couple things, but I think it could be within a week or two.”
The man nodded. “We want to give our music program more space and better accommodations. Our music director needs a room for the older children so they don’t have to meet in the auditorium. They also need space where they can store their equipment and materials. Dara needs the same, since the groups meet at the same time, and she has to use the fellowship hall. The pre-school and kindergarten groups are fine where they are.”
“Miss Collier…that is Miss, right?” Jared tried to sound casual.
The pastor nodded. “She’s single. She’s also a tireless worker in our church.”
“She’s been a member here a long time?”
“Most of her life. She grew up here, went to college, and then returned.” He stopped abruptly, obviously not willing to tell stories about one of his members. Nor would he ask a potential contractor for information—even if he suspected a history between the two.
Jared nodded and returned his attention to business. “Let’s go outside now so I can get a good look at the building exterior and surrounding property.”
Later, driving back to the office, his mouth tightened. Jared had known that Dara probably still lived in Sedalia, but he hadn’t expected to run into her so soon after his return to the area. The beautiful girl of his memory was now a mature and beautiful woman. There was a tilt to her chin and an expression in her eyes that projected confidence and maturity. What had happened over the past four years? She wore no rings on her left hand. Did her husband leave her? Did the engagement get broken?
He had to revitalize his business that had flagged while he took care of the Hawaii branch after his brother went to prison. He needed every job he could get, but maybe he should forget about bidding on this one. If he got it, he might keep running into Dara, and that would be suicide. It irked him that he had reacted to her so strongly. He had to stay away from the deceitful little schemer.
*
“What was that little episode about?” Karla Miller, a slender blond, asked as they prepared packages for mailing.
Dara frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Karla snorted. “Yes, you do. That candy didn’t just jump out of your hands when that hunk walked in with Pastor Glen. You went into shock the instant you saw him. And I admit he’s so dreamy that I probably would have fainted at meeting him if I weren’t already married to Zeb. What’s the history between you two?”
Dara slapped a label on her package and looked up. Karla wasn’t going to let it go. She shrugged. “I knew him a long time ago.”
Karla stared, her expression turning somber. “I have an odd feeling about this,” she said after several moments. “I detected some very strong vibes there. So strong that I’m going to say something I normally wouldn’t. Please stop kidding yourself.”
Dara frowned. “I’m not kidding.”
“I’ve worked with you for over two years now, and I know you. You don’t date. You’re cynical about men. Something made you that way. Is he the one behind it?” She tipped her head in the direction Jared and the pastor had gone.
Dara breathed deeply and stiffened her shoulders. “I knew him. We had a brief relationship. He left.”
Karla’s brow creased. “You mean he just took off without any explanation?”
Dara gave another shrug meant to be nonchalant. “That pretty much covers it.” She had gone over it hundreds of times, come up with no answer, and finally accepted that she might never understand why he did it and that she had to move on with her life.
Karla nodded. “That would explain your attitude. You were hurt and don’t want to risk another experience like that.”
Dara slapped a label on a priority box. “Maybe. But I got over it. Then Leslie died in Iraq and I got Chad. He’s all I need.”
Karla picked up another box and began to fill it. “I don’t think you got over it. I think you’re in denial. But I’m not going to argue about it.”
“Good. Let’s get these packages in the trunk of my car so I can deliver them to the post office after school tomorrow.”
As soon as they finished and the teens were gone, Dara corralled Chad, put him in her car and headed home, almost dizzy with turmoil. She was over Jared, she reminded herself. She’d locked her emotions in cold storage when he disappeared. So how could the mere sight of him totally rattle her? What in the world would she do if he got the construction job and was around all the time? When had he returned to the area?
“What will we eat now?”
In the rearview mirror she could see Chad in his car seat, running a small toy truck up and down his denim-clad leg. “I don’t know. How about chili?”
His head lifted. “With cheese?”
She smiled and turned into the driveway. “Of course.”
After their meal and baths, Dara tucked Chad into bed and typed a long letter to her friend, Nikki Raynor. Then she watched the news and went to bed.
*
Tuesday afternoon a week later, Dara watched the last of her students file out of the classroom to meet their regular teacher in the hall. Then she tidied her classroom and went outside to monitor the loading of the school buses, her extra duty assignment for that week.
Toward the back of the line of buses was a light blue van that bore the name Victory Chapel on its side. Shivering in the November chill, Dara wrapped the coat she had flung over her black pantsuit tighter around her and walked faster. The wind whipped her black hair from its neat, collar length style into something like a haystack.
A bell rang and students poured from the two story red brick building. Windows lined the walls of each floor like huge shiny eyes, and brown grass covered the grounds around it. A rectangular sign out front displayed school announcements.
As some students veered away from the main flow and headed to the van, Dara checked to be sure they were all on the permission list to leave school in a vehicle other than their regular buses. Security was a constant issue in schools.
As soon as all the vehicles were loaded and the buses began to roll away, Dara hurried to her silver Taurus and drove to the parking lot of Chad’s day care. Red and yellow leaves littered the small yard and still fell from two big oaks. The temperature had hovered in the low forties all week.
Misty Anderson, a slender brunette in her mid twenties, stood before the building, Chad’s hand gripped in her own. As soon as Dara stopped, Misty brought Chad to the rear passenger door and lifted him into his booster seat. As she buckled him in, he leaned back and grinned up at Dara.
Dara leaned over and touched his cheek in affection. “How’s my big boy?”
“He was real good today,” Misty said as she stepped back. “See you in the morning.” She closed the car door, waved and headed back into the building.
“I’m proud of you.” Dara looked both ways and pulled back into the traffic. “Are you ready to go sing at church?”
“Uh huh.” In the rear view mirror she could see his head bob. He began to sing, “Jesus luffs me, ‘iss I know. Jingle bells, jingle bells,” waving his arms in rhythm to the words.
Dara smiled. About three foot tall and weighing thirty-five pounds, he was a black haired dynamo, and she loved him so much it hurt. The focus of her life, she thanked God every day for the privilege of having this child who held her heart in his hands. She only wished that his presence in her life did not represent the tragedy and heartache of losing his mother.
Chad’s happy singing helped Dara swallow her pain and focus on her driving. Swiping at her moist eyes, she drove to the church and pulled into the parking lot just as the last of the children emerged from the van ahead of them and headed into the building.
The rectangular red brick structure stood between two parking lots, a smaller one to the west, and this larger one on the east. Two large white columns supported each side of the roof that extended over a small porch at the front entrance. A tall white steeple perched atop the pointed roof.
Zeb Miller, a big guy with thick sandy hair, smiled and waved as he came from the now empty van. More cars pulled into the lot behind them, delivering children. “We’ve got this schedule synchronized,” he boasted as he fell into step beside them.
Dara nodded and gripped Chad’s hand to keep him from taking off to the small play area in the corner of the churchyard. “We’ve certainly done it enough.”
Inside the church, Zeb headed for the auditorium as Dara took Chad to Karla’s classroom. Then she went on to meet her group in the fellowship hall. Tall windows lined the three outer walls of the large open room.
For the next hour Dara and her twenty boys and girls worked hard. They began with some choruses and a musical learning game. The remainder of the time they worked on songs for the upcoming church Christmas program.
An hour later all three groups enjoyed cookies and juices that the women’s mission organization provided each week. When they were done, Zeb led the children down the hall like the Pied Piper, headed back to the van. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder to Dara.
“I’ll be there,” she called back. On Wednesday nights the adult choir met right after Bible study, her opportunity to sing rather than direct.
“Dara, got a minute?” the pastor called from his office as she and Chad passed the open door. She halted and stepped inside.
“Hi, Creacher Glen,” Chad chirped behind her.
Pastor Glen laughed. Some of the children had affectionately dubbed him Preacher Glen, and Chad tried to mimic them.
“Is Mrs. Adams busy?” Chad asked, glancing toward the secretary’s office next door.
The pastor grinned. “I’m sure she’s not too busy to see you.”
Chad looked at Dara for permission.
“Go see her, but stay only a couple of minutes.”
He ran next door.
“How are things going?” Glen leaned back in his desk chair to study her. A tall, muscular man in his late forties, he had thick dark hair graying around the temples. His matching brows were bushy behind wire-framed glasses.
“I feel like there’s a part of me missing,” Dara said sadly.
“How is the adoption paperwork progressing?”
“It’s been slow. If things go well, he should legally be my son within another month or two. If Logan’s wife doesn’t cause any more trouble,” she added with a grimace.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand why she’s making a fuss,” the pastor said. “I thought Logan was fine with the idea of you raising his sister’s child. Not only did Leslie name you Chad’s guardian, but this way he can grow up here in Leslie’s home town and be near her dad. Why didn’t Leslie’s brother and his wife complain about you having Chad when Leslie left him with you so long before her death, or soon afterward? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I don’t think Logan changed his mind at all.” Dara’s words were tense. “He knows how close Leslie and I were, and that I treat Chad like my own son—which he will be, I don’t care what anyone says or does. Leslie told me that Kristi made it clear to her brother years ago that she doesn’t want any more children, but now she suddenly says she wants Chad. I think it’s because she thinks she can take him as a foster child and get a monthly check from the government.”
The pastor’s expression became concerned. “Dara, I know you’re happy to take on the task of raising your friend’s child, and that you take him to visit his grandfather often. But I hope you’re not so determined to adopt him at all costs that you aren’t willing to accept whatever God’s will is in the matter.”
Dara’s eyes glistened, and her mouth trembled ever so slightly. “I can’t give him up, no matter what. No one is going to take him from me. Leslie wanted me to take care of him, and I’m going to do it.” Her voice had risen with angry fervor.
“You’re doing a great job with him,” the pastor assured her in a gentle tone. “I’ll pray about the situation.”
Dara’s expression became solemn. “He calls me Mom. I love it, but sometimes I feel…guilty. Leslie loved him. She just couldn’t cope with the tragedy of Randy’s death. But eventually she would have.”
“Yes, she would have,” he agreed. “But she placed Chad in your care with the full knowledge that, if something happened to her, you would become his mother.”
For a moment Dara couldn’t speak as the sorrow welled up in her. She didn’t know if she would ever be able to think about Leslie without crying. She bit her lip and forced back tears. “I know,” was all she could manage to say.
“Dara, I don’t know the details, but I know the loss of Leslie is not the only heartbreak you’ve experienced in your life.” He raised a palm in a signal that he wasn’t asking for those details. “I also know you feel that your life is going to be spent as a single parent. I just hope you aren’t shutting the door on any other plans God might have for you.”
Dara listened to her pastor’s words, which were usually a source of encouragement, and thought how wrong he was this time. Her future was to be a single parent, and teaching would provide their financial needs. She refused to consider otherwise. She didn’t need a man in her life, as others seemed to imply.
The pastor continued. “You’re attractive and personable. You’re competent, a good musician, and you handle the children well. But you don’t have to do everything alone. I hope you’ll remember that. Now, you two take care of one another and come back tomorrow night,” he said as Chad reappeared in the doorway.
“Bye.” Chad waved and scampered out the door.
Dara hurried after him.

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