The Troublesome Angel (12 page)

Read The Troublesome Angel Online

Authors: Valerie Hansen

BOOK: The Troublesome Angel
2.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Stacy twirled the wire to roast her hot dog
evenly. When Gray crouched down beside her and his presence made her pulse speed, she decided the safest thing to do was to focus on the lonely child. “So, how’s Missy doing these days?”

“That’s why I came to see you,” he said.

Though she should have been happy to hear it, Stacy had to admit she was more disappointed than relieved. “Is there a problem?”

“Not exactly. I just have a question for you.” He stared into the fire. “I’m volunteering as a counselor at a children’s church camp, up in Ravenden, next week.”

“I know the place. It’s very nice.”

“Glad to hear it. So, what do you think about my enrolling Missy and taking her with me?”

“Does she want to go?”

“I haven’t asked her yet. I thought I should speak with Candace and Mark about it first, in case they refuse to allow her to go. I didn’t want to promise anything I couldn’t deliver.”

“That’s wise,” Stacy said. “Missy’s a bright little girl but she’s still a kid. Kids don’t think the same way you and I do. To them, everything tends to be equal.”

“For instance?”

“Oh, like the promise of an ice cream cone or a pony. We don’t see those things as being of the same importance. To a child, they are. To them, a promise is a promise. It’s far better to avoid making one in the first place than to offer something
you can’t deliver.” She sensed him turn his head, begin to study her profile.

Afraid that her expression might betray too much of what was in her heart, Stacy stood up. “Well, time to grab a hot dog bun and see if my cooking is as good as I think it is.”

“I’m sure it is,” Gray said. “There’s nothing you don’t do well.”

Her laugh was nervous, cynical. “Oh, yes there is.”

“Okay. What?” He joined her at the picnic table.

Stacy scooted around the end of the table and chose a place directly across from him rather than give him another opportunity to hold her hand. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed his touch. She was avoiding him because she’d liked it
too
much.

Spreading mustard and relish to stall for time while she composed herself, Stacy finally passed the plastic containers to Gray and dared to meet his gaze. “I can’t tell you my faults. If I did, you wouldn’t think I was perfect anymore.”

When Gray smiled over at her and said, “Yes, I would,” the sincere look in his eyes was almost enough to bring her to tears.

 

It was dusk before Stacy convinced herself to end the picnic. “I guess I should be going.”

Gray put out his hand but didn’t touch her. “No. Wait. We haven’t roasted marshmallows yet.”

“Really, I…” Pausing, she realized she wanted
to stay with him. Forever. Their evening together had been the most enjoyable time she could remember ever having. Her initial nervousness had been replaced with a tranquil accord that had arrived with such subtlety that she hadn’t sensed it coming until it had already filled her soul to overflowing.

“Stay a while longer. Your friends will understand. Come on. Show me how this is done.” He reached for the bag of marshmallows and tore it open.

“As if you couldn’t figure it out by yourself.” She popped a plain marshmallow into her mouth.

“I like them better uncooked, anyway.” Gray’s lopsided smile of response made her wish he wasn’t so blasted endearing.

“I’ll bet there’s a special technique to roasting them. I need to learn what it is so I don’t disappoint Missy or the other kids when I help out at camp.”

“You’re really going to do that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Stacy stifled a giggle. “No reason. Just make sure you don’t sign up to demonstrate forest lore to them, okay? You owe the poor, innocent kids that much.”

“I beg your pardon?” Pantomiming a terrible affront, he clapped a hand over his heart. “Are you suggesting that I might not be the best person to teach young minds about the wonders of nature?”

This time, Stacy laughed aloud. “I’m not
sug
gesting
anything. I’m telling you. Do everybody a favor and stick to civilization. That’s where you belong.”

He threaded a stack of three marshmallows on his makeshift skewer and held it over a remaining spot of glowing coals. “Only because you refuse to teach me all you know.”

“Oh, right! Like I could do that in a couple of hours?” Too late, she realized he’d been goading her again so she added, “And if you claim I know so little you can learn it that fast, I’m going to conk you with a marshmallow.”

“Sure, you are.” Forgetting his task, he concentrated on enjoying the verbal sparring with Stacy. Nothing got past her, did it? She was one of a kind, always ready to stand up to him, to give as good as she got.

Still feigning insult and racking her brain for a quick-witted comeback, she glanced at the end of his hanger. It was in flames. “Um, excuse me, Mr. Payne, but I believe your dessert is on fire.”

“What?” Gray jerked the stick back and blew hard on the bubbling, blackened mess to quell the flames. Part of the melting confection started to slide off. He caught it without thinking. “Ouch!”

“Well, silly…” Stacy began before she realized the sticky, clinging sweet could actually be hurting him. She jumped to her feet. “Let go. Drop it.”

By the time he did as he was told, his palm was red beneath the goo. Stacy quickly led him to the cooler, scooped up some cracked ice and filled his
hand, closing his fingers by placing her smaller hands over his. “Here. Hold on to this. It’ll stop the burning. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Neither can I.” Gray stared at their joined hands. He marveled at the expert way she had reacted to help him. He hadn’t meant to do something so idiotic, but if he’d known Stacy was going to minister to him so tenderly, he’d have grabbed the burning marshmallow on purpose.

Dazed by the effect their personal contact was having on her, she abruptly loosened her grip, stepped back, and took refuge in becoming fully professional once again. “I suspect it’s only a first or second-degree burn. If it blisters or the skin breaks for any reason, be sure to keep it clean, dry and sterile. If you notice any reddening later or if the pain worsens, I suggest you see a doctor.”

“I will.”

His voice was restrained, his expression unreadable, giving Stacy no clue as to his feelings. She was having no problem discerning her own emotions, though. For the few moments when she’d forgotten herself and cupped Gray’s injured hand, she’d been filled with an indescribable sensation of pure wonder.

Seeking to distract them both, she decided to demonstrate the proper marshmallow-roasting technique. “Here. Watch me. You string the marshmallow on the skewer like this, the same way you did, only you hold it farther away from the heat. Turn it often enough to keep it from catching
on fire. It should be a toasty-brown color…not black.” She crouched down and slowly twirled her wire over the glowing embers. “When it starts to bubble under the crust, it’s done.”

Stacy had been concentrating on her task rather than letting herself think about Gray. Now, she stood and proudly presented the perfectly roasted marshmallow, taking pains to avoid making eye contact with him. “See? It’s easy when you pay attention.” He didn’t reply.

Still jittery and far more aware of him than she liked, Stacy listened to the warnings blaring in her brain and offered the polite excuse, “Well, I guess I’d better be going. Judy will be expecting me back and Angie’s probably made dessert, again, and—” Stop babbling and just go, she ordered silently.

Gray’s voice was quiet, compelling. “Aren’t you going to give me a taste of that?”

“Oh, sure. No problem.” Without thinking, she carefully slid the sticky, half-melted confection off the wire and held it up. “Here you go.”

She’d expected him to reach for it, to take it in his free hand. Instead, he stepped closer, leaned over, and opened his mouth. When she looked up into his eyes, she saw a well-defined challenge. One she couldn’t refuse.

Unfortunately, when she tried to pop the marshmallow into his mouth without touching him, it stuck to her.

Gray’s mouth closed over the treat, his lips warmly, gently, grazing the tips of her fingers. Her
eyes widened. Her heart stopped. The challenge in his dark eyes became a caress; the mutual sharing of an intimate moment that stole her breath away.

She withdrew her tingling fingers as she watched him lick his lips. Lips that had once kissed her.

But only as a joke, Stacy insisted, trying to counteract her amorous reaction to him the way she had before. This time, it didn’t help. The atmosphere between her and Gray had become so charged with emotional intensity Stacy couldn’t even bring herself to look away, let alone convince herself that he wasn’t serious.

Gray was momentarily stunned. He studied her face, her eyes, trying to see into her heart and decide if she was feeling as off balance as he was.

It was impossible to tell. Stacy looked as if she were torn between fondness and fright. Did she think he’d ever hurt her? Cause her pain? He’d
never
do such a thing. Except that he already had, he admitted ruefully. When he’d taken it upon himself to interfere in her relationship with Mark, he’d undoubtedly hurt her terribly. No wonder she still distrusted him.

Concerned only for Stacy, Gray purposely broke the mood and released her by saying, “Thanks for the taste. I’ll be sure and remember your recipe.” He backed away. “When you get back to the cabin, tell Judy and Angie hello for me.”

“I—I will.” She saw him start to stick both hands in his pockets, then flinch when the burned
one touched fabric. “You take care of your hand. Remember what I said.”

“I will.”

Stacy was sidestepping toward the edge of the campsite. “And tell Missy I said she should behave while she’s at camp, even if you’re there, too.” She saw him nod. Then he turned away. Stacy did the same and headed for the cabin.

She felt as drained as if she’d just run a marathon. What was the matter with her? Didn’t she have any good sense left? If Gray hadn’t acted first, she doubted she’d have been able to muster enough self-control to walk away from him. And
then
what?

Stacy didn’t want to know. She didn’t even want to guess. If, as she suspected, the Lord was trying to make another point with her in regard to her feelings toward Graydon Payne, she’d just as soon fail to grasp it.

How long God would let her get away with that attitude was another question altogether.

Chapter Twelve

M
issy had jumped up and down with glee when Gray had informed her he was taking her to camp with him. The only thing she’d objected to was having to share a cabin with ten other girls and their twenty-something female counselor, Miss Emily, instead of becoming her uncle’s shadow.

On the fourth day of the five scheduled, the child finally quit sulking and began to act as if she were having a good time. Her group was seated in the shade of a cluster of ancient oaks, making animals out of pinecones, when Gray sauntered up and joined them.

“Look, Uncle Gray! I made a owl. Miss Emily showed me how. See?” Missy displayed it proudly, waiting for his admiration.

He smiled down at the eager child. “That’s very pretty, honey.”

“I wanted to make a dog like Lewis, but it was too hard.” She began to pout, then brightened.

“When are you going to take me to see his puppies?”

Gray had forgotten all about the pups at Stacy’s. After the incident of the hot marshmallows and equally heated ambience, he figured she’d never want to hear from him again, let alone have him show up on her doorstep.

“I didn’t say we’d go see the puppies, Missy. That was your idea. Remember?”

“Stacy said I could.”

“Well, she shouldn’t have.” Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair.

“But—but I asked Jesus, too,” Missy insisted.

If only things were actually as simple as the trusting heart of a child saw them. Searching for a way to appease her, Gray said, “Tell you what. I’ll talk to Mark and Candace and see if it’s okay to take you to the zoo next week. Then you can see lots of different animals. Okay?”

When Missy didn’t answer right away he waited, expecting tears. Surprisingly, she didn’t cry or pout. Instead, she stared up at him, eyes wide, expression incredulous, as if he’d just grown a second head.

“Okay?” he asked again.

Without answering, the little girl lowered her gaze and went back to adding more make-believe feathers to her owl.

 

At dinner that evening, Missy’s counselor, Emily, approached Gray’s table. “Hi. Did you two have fun, today?”

Confused, he looked up at the dark-haired, amiable young woman. “Pardon me?”

“You and Missy,” she explained. “I only let her go because you said she could.”

He was on his feet in an instant, his meal forgotten. “You let her go? Where?”

“To meet you.” Emily squinted up at him.

“You did tell her she could. I heard you talking to her and I’m sure you promised to take her to see some animals.”

“At the zoo. Not
today.
” The hair on the back of his neck was bristling. Running away from his mother’s house or disappearing at Stacy’s was one thing. Getting lost in the wilderness, like the first time she ran away, was quite another. “I haven’t seen Missy since I visited your group and saw her making an owl.”

“Oh, dear.” Emily’s eyes widened in fear and disbelief. “Why would she lie to me like that?”

“I’m afraid she has a one-track mind when it comes to some subjects, especially a certain rescue dog.” Angry, Gray couldn’t make up his mind who to be mad at first: himself, Emily, Stacy or God. He fought the urge to run out of the dining hall and shout the little girl’s name at the top of his lungs, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help.

Emily was wringing her hands. Tears were start
ing to trickle down her cheeks. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t want you to worry,” Gray said, lightly patting her shoulder to comfort her. “Sit down, eat your dinner and look after the rest of your group. I’ll tell James what’s going on. I know what Missy is expecting, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

 

Stacy’s emergency beeper went off as she was coming out of the grocery store in Cave City. She directed the clerk’s helper to her truck so he could load her purchases in the back, then went to a pay phone to call her message service.

“This is Stacy Lucas. What do you have for me?”

“A lost child,” the operator said. “A six-year-old girl. I wasn’t sure if I should bother you. The call didn’t come from any of your regular sources but the man said it was urgent. He sure sounded like he meant it.”

Stacy’s stomach leaped into her throat and stuck there like a big wad of dry cotton. “What was his name?”

“He said it was Payne. I didn’t catch his first name. It was real unusual, though.”

Not again!
“Could his name have been Graydon Payne?”

“Might have been. Hard to say. He was talking so fast I could hardly understand a word he said.”

Suddenly light-headed, Stacy leaned against the
edge of the wall-mounted phone booth. She and Gray had gotten used to chasing after Missy. If he was upset, the current situation must be serious. “Where was the child last seen?”

“At a camp up in…” Shuffling papers, the operator found her notes. “In Ravenden. Is that too far away for you? I can always call somebody else if you’d like.”

“No,” Stacy said quickly. “I know exactly where it is. It’s not too far.”

“You sure? This guy sounded kind of dithered.”

“I don’t doubt that a bit.” Stacy was already laying out her route in her head and going over the supplies she’d need. “Call Mr. Payne back and tell him I’ll try to be there in about an hour. And tell him not to worry. I’ll be bringing Lewis.”

“I thought you’d decided to retire that dog?”

“I had. But this is a special case. Lewis already knows the missing child so he’s the best choice.”

“I suppose that’s why the guy asked for you by name.”

“Undoubtedly,” Stacy said flatly. “I’ll be on the road in five minutes. Bye.”

She’d hung up and was running for her truck before the operator had a chance to respond.

 

The idea of seeing Gray again was so physically unsettling and had built to such a peak by the time she reached Ravenden, Stacy wondered if she might be coming down with the flu.

“I should be so lucky,” she muttered. Beside her, Lewis thumped his tail. “Yeah, I know. You love this.”

Uptight beyond belief, she made a disgusted face. There it was again—the
L
word! What a mockery her indiscriminate, unconscious thoughts had made of her determination to put Gray out of her mind for good.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and wag your tail, Lewis.” Stacy gave him a pat of assurance to counteract her slightly gruff tone. “At least one of us is going to have fun tonight. But it sure isn’t going to be me.”

Scowling, she wheeled into the hard-packed dirt drive leading to the children’s summer camp. The place had been there so long and had such a sterling reputation, it was always full to capacity. And no wonder. The kids were well-fed, entertained, and housed in dormlike buildings with real beds instead of having to pitch tents on the hard ground. As far as Stacy was concerned, that was
not
camping.

Gray was pacing and waiting for her at the archway marking the main entrance. When she stopped beside him, he reached for the door handle on the passenger side of her truck, spotted Lewis, and changed his mind.

“I’ll just ride back here, instead,” he said, vaulting over the side of the truck bed with ease.

Stacy opened the sliding window behind her so they could still communicate and called, “Move
over here so we can talk. You can fill me in while I drive. Where should we start?”

“Past the main campground and then to the east,” he said, hanging on to the window frame for balance and crouching behind her. “That’s where I last saw Missy.”

Other children were grouped around the dining hall doorway, watching the truck pass, so Stacy slowed down. Looking in the rearview mirror she saw Gray gesturing.

“Turn there, at the rail fence,” he ordered. “It’s not a regular road but it’s passable almost all the way. We can save time if we drive.”

Stacy didn’t park until the trail got too narrow for her truck to squeeze through. Lewis was straining at his leash, eager to begin, the moment she got out of the truck.

“Hand me my backpack before you climb down,” she told Gray. “Everything slid around back there on that crooked stretch of road between here and Hardy.”

Gray complied, then joined her. He held up the pack so she could slip her arms through the shoulder straps. “No kidding. Do you always stir your groceries like that?”

“Not hardly.” She glanced at the dimly lit disarray in the truck bed. The day was nearly over. Long shadows from the trees blurred her jumbled cargo even more. “Grab a couple of bottles of water, if you can find them in all that mess, and something sweet, too, for energy.”

“Right. What else?”

Stacy assessed his clothing. Jeans, hiking boots, a T-shirt and windbreaker were better choices than he’d made the last time they’d hit the trail together.

“That’s all. You’ll do just as you are. Stuff the extra provisions in your jacket pockets and let’s go.”

He followed her orders without hesitation, then led the way to the glen where Missy was last seen. “Her group was sitting over there, under those trees, making animals out of pinecones. She started talking about Lewis. Said she wanted to go see his puppies. Like a fool I didn’t realize how important it was to her.”

“It’s not your fault,” Stacy said. “Missy has to be held responsible for her own actions someday. If something bothered her, she should have spoken up, come to you and told you how she was feeling. Unless she learns to do that she’s never going to be able to cope with the changes in life that she
can’t
control.”

He wanted to say, “I think she left so you’d come after her,” but decided to keep that opinion to himself. It wasn’t fair to attribute his personal wishes to Missy. Maybe her wanting to see Stacy again had nothing to do with what had happened. Maybe the little girl was merely so spoiled, so used to getting her own way, she’d disappeared to punish him when he’d refused her request to go see the pups.

“I really thought she liked me, trusted me,”
Gray said, clearly sorrowing. He sighed. “I guess I was wrong.”

The pathos in his voice cut all the way to Stacy’s soul and made its home there. How such a caring, sensitive man could have come from the Payne clan, could have developed in the same family that had shaped Mark and the others, was a complete mystery to her.

To say so, however, would be a really stupid move. Assuming she was able to compliment Gray without sounding overly judgmental about the others, he could still misunderstand her motives. He might even think she was making a pass at him! Then what? The compelling possibilities of such a scenario sent her imagination into overdrive, making her blush.
Oh, heavens.

“Heaven, indeed,” Stacy muttered, disgusted with her wandering mind. “I think you and I should pray hard that everything works out tonight.”

“I’ve already been praying nonstop.”

She made a disgusted face. “Well, I hate to admit it, but I haven’t. That’s a bad habit of mine. I tend to wait till things are about as bad as they can get before I panic and ask God for help.”

Closing her eyes and bowing her head she said, “Father, it’s me again. Late, as usual. Please help us find Missy and keep her safe while we search.”

Gray was about to add his
Amen
when Stacy went on, “And thank you for giving her an uncle
who loves her and cares what happens to her, no matter how she behaves.”

It suddenly struck her how the same kind of tolerance was available from God when any person became his child. And in
her
case, it was sure a good thing He allowed mistakes. Boy, was it!

Continuing in silent prayer for a few moments, Stacy finally said, “Amen.” When she lifted her gaze to meet Gray’s she saw a sparkle of unshed tears in his eyes. That was no real surprise. She’d known for some time that her former nemesis had a tender heart.

Which merely meant he was living the Christian life as well as he could, with God’s help. It did not, however, mean he’d renounced the trappings of his elaborate life-style or was any closer to understanding why different kinds of things were more important to her.

Stacy knew that critical truth had better be foremost in her befuddled brain or she’d be prone to add another bad blunder to her already considerable list of them. It would be far too easy to heed her secret yearnings and make the mistake of thinking Gray cared as much about her as she did about him. Maybe even returned her love!

Her heart skipped a beat. Allowing herself to imagine something like that, to dwell on it, would be the crowning disaster in a life already jam-packed with them. To love, with no chance of receiving equal love in return, was not only foolish,
it was pointless. She’d been brought there for only one thing. To save lives.

This time, Stacy remembered to ask for help before she was in dire straits.
Father,
she called silently,
please help me keep my mind on my job and my heart focused on what you’ve put me here for.

Instantly, her concentration peaked and she was back on track. “Come on, Lewis,” she said with eagerness and confidence. “Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”

Guiding the dog to the tree Gray had indicated, she ordered, “Find Missy.”

 

The ridge they mounted was topped with a thick growth of small oaks and sycamores, interspersed with a smattering of cedars and an occasional green briar. Gray had learned to avoid the wiry, thorny vines the hard way, by grabbing one.

He drew up beside Stacy, breathing hard, and switched off the flashlight she’d given him. The batteries wouldn’t last if they used the lights too much. “Well? What do you think?”

Stacy had been watching the sky, noting recent changes. Some stars still shone through the clouds but thunderheads were building, darkening. She didn’t like the humid feel of the air or the lingering heat, either. If the dew point was as high as she figured it was, they could be in for some rotten weather.

“I think we’d better find Missy pretty soon or we’re all going to get very wet,” she said flatly.
“Look at those clouds. I can feel a change coming.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’d hoped it was just my imagination.”

Other books

Somewhere in the Middle by Linda Palmer
Dead End Job by Vicki Grant
Can We Still Be Friends by Alexandra Shulman
Shiver by Alex Nye
Angels on Fire by Nancy A. Collins
Desert Dancer by Terri Farley
This Gun for Hire by Jo Goodman