entered the kitchen as Nate Del Rio and the boys entered from the opposite end. Nate glanced up at her, surprise registering in his eyes.
“You look—” He seemed to catch himself, for which she would be eternally grateful, and said instead, “We’re all finished. If you’ll hand us a mop, we’ll sop up some of the water for you.”
“Oh, goodness no. Don’t bother. I’ll do the sopping up. You’ve done enough.” She whipped toward the broom closet and took out a sponge mop. “Why don’t you have a seat and let me get you some cookies and milk.”
Those dimples of his activated. Killer dimples. Goodness.
“Cookies and milk? Sounds great. My breakfast wore off after the stop at Milly Jenkins’s.”
“Milly?” Rainy propped the mop against the wall, only to have it taken by Will, who disappeared into the laundry room with faithful Joshua by his side. “Doesn’t she play the organ at church?”
“Yep. Nice lady. Her old Mercury needed new spark plugs.”
Rainy took down two glasses and filled them with cold milk, then added milk to the ongoing grocery list posted on the fridge. “This ministry is a real blessing to people, Nate. I hope you men who volunteer realize that.”
“It’s a blessing to us, too,” he said simply, and she liked him for the sentiment. Nice guy. No wonder some smart woman had snapped him up like the last chocolate truffle.
With a plate of yesterday’s homemade double chocolate chip cookies in hand, she joined him at the round glass table. She still questioned her sanity for buying a glass dining table with so many children coming and going, but other than the persistent presence of small fingerprints, the glass had held up well so far.
Nate reached for a cookie, bit, chewed. “Wow. Powerful.”
“I hope that means good. I tend to be a little heavy-handed on the chocolate, especially during high-stress days.”
“With all these little ones underfoot, those are probably pretty frequent.” He sipped at his milk, managing not to create a milk mustache. “What is this anyway? A day care?”
Rainy broke an edge off a moist cookie and held it between thumb and finger. “I’m a foster mom.”
“They let singles do that?”
“The Department of Human Services is desperate for foster moms. So, yes. They do.”
“That explains it, then.”
She laughed. “Explains what? The total chaos?”
He had the grace to look guilty. “Well…”
“Today is unusual. You see, I normally take on only school-age children because I’m a teacher. I have to work. But last night, actually early this morning, I got an emergency call from the social worker about the two babies.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Most calls do come at night, unfortunately. Nighttime seems to be when families fall apart. Drugs, drinking, and in this case, those eighteen-month-old twins were found alone in a car outside a casino.”
She didn’t mention the ongoing problem faced by the beleaguered social worker. There were not enough foster homes to care for all the needy children. And Rainy had trouble saying no, regardless of how full her house might be.
“The babies were in the car? While their mother was in the casino?”
“Yes. She’d been there for hours.”
His horrified look matched her own reaction. “It’s still cold outside.”
March might be springtime, but at night the Oklahoma temperature tumbled to freezing.
“I know. Very cold, not to mention dangerous as all get out. Anyone could have stolen those children.” She popped the bite of cookie into her mouth and almost sighed at the rich, gooey chocolate flavor. “That’s why I agreed to take them until the social worker can find another placement, hopefully today.”
“Brutal.”
He could say that again. Foster care was not for the faint of heart. She’d heard some hair-raising tales and encountered far too many broken children, the exact reason she persevered. God had planted a mission inside her to make a difference in these forgotten kids’ lives. And with God’s help, she was succeeding, one child at a time.
“Another cookie?” She pushed the plate toward him. “Or will your wife be upset if you spoil your lunch with sweets?”
She hoped the question was as subtle as she wanted it to be.
As he chewed, Nate shook his head from side to side. “Nope. No problem there.”
Okay, so she wanted to know for sure. Still playing innocent, she asked, “She doesn’t mind?”
“She doesn’t exist.”
It took Rainy two beats to comprehend.
Nate Del Rio with the killer dimples was single.
Chapter Two
If there was one thing Rainy never wanted to be, it was a desperate, husband-hunting woman. So she refused to be happy that the handsome cowboy sitting across from her was unmarried. He was what he was. And so was she.
After she’d hung out her shingle to be a foster mother, with the intention of adopting as many kids as the Lord saw fit, she’d put aside her dreams of a husband. Mostly. If God dropped the right guy into her lap, she wouldn’t argue. She just wasn’t going out looking anymore.
“So how long have you attended Bible Fellowship?” Nate was asking.
“Since I moved here five years ago. It’s a great church, lots of outreach to the needy, which I think is paramount, plus I love the small-group Bible studies. And the kids’ ministry, of course.”
“Of course.” One side of his mouth quirked. “So you’re not from around here, then?”
“Tulsa.”
Both eyebrows joined the quirked lips. “City girl.”
“I am not!” She leaned back in her chair, saw he was teasing, and laughed. “Well, not entirely. I like the smaller town life. That’s why I took the job at Robert E. Lee.”
“Summervale isn’t too small anymore.”
“No, but a good mix of small town and big city, don’t you think?”
“Mostly. Traffic’s gotten snarly since they put in the mall.”
“Nothing like Tulsa at rush hour.”
He shuddered. “Spare me that. Three cars on a country road are enough for me. What grade you teach?”
“Second. Five years, and I can’t
