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Tyler immediately called his dad while I called Brady. They both said to stay put. That they would come to us. We listened and quickly finished our food before heading out of the diner to wait. Two police cruisers showed up moments later, and I thought it was kind of excessive that both of them had to come. People who were on the outside of the diner stared, most likely wondering what was happening. At that point, I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure what Brady and Mr. McGuire could do here except look at the message on my phone. It almost seemed pointless but maybe... maybe they had a way to track it.
I watched Brady and Mr. McGuire step out of their cruisers and come over toward us. Both of them looked different in their police uniforms with their gleaming badges and gear. The gear made them look bulkier than they were and more intimidating. I guess it needed to be that way if they were trying to take down the bad guys.
Mr. McGuire glanced my way with a look of pity while Brady, having no reservations, swooped in and gave me an awkward, comforting hug before letting me go. After that, he demanded my phone.
I handed it over as all of us relayed in various stages what had happened. I didn’t have to tell Brady much. He knew when he saw the message why I was upset. Calculating police eyes shot toward mine as Brady passed the phone on over to Mr. McGuire with one question. “Did you tell anybody about this date?”
I shook my head dropping it a little. “Not until today.”
He frowned searching my face. “Whoever this is, it’s not somebody from back home.” He glanced toward Mr. McGuire. “It’s someone here. It has to be,” he reasoned.
“I agree,” Mr. McGuire spoke, handing Brady back my phone. “Because that’s the same phone number that showed up on Linc’s phone”—he glanced toward him—“right, son?”
Lincoln nodded and the two short blonde locks on either side of his face moved with him, “Yeah, Dad but why target Daniels? It makes no sense. Why now? What triggered it?”
“Well, it’s not any of us,” Wendy said thoughtfully as her face scrunched up thinking hard. She tapped her fingers against the air as if she were organizing files on a touch-screen laptop. Her silver rings that she had on her fingers gleamed in the sunlight until her hand dropped. “It has to be someone that’s obsessed with Linc. I mean, it did start with him," she concluded, glancing his way. Lincoln’s shoulders tensed, and his lips pressed downward.
“Lincoln, you have a stalker,” I told him, thinking back to the first time I received a message and then to today. Both times I was with Lincoln.
“But have you received any messages recently?” Tyler busted out, looking toward his brother, then he stopped and clarified, “Have you received any more messages since Daniels first got hers?”
“No.” His eyes grew wide as they slanted toward mine, sobering. He was upset. I could see it. He thought it was his fault that I had to deal with my painful past once again. “No, but I don’t know anybody who would do this.”
I reached over and took his hand in mine, giving in a little a squeeze then just held it. He gave me a pity smile and squeezed back. I didn’t want him to feel bad.
“Son.” His dad stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s probably not someone she knows. It’s most likely someone from your school.”
“School?” He sounded unsure.
“Yeah, maybe, but how is the person able to block us from tracking them?” Wendy questioned.
“Not only that,” Kane joined in gesturing to me, “Why go after Daniels in the first place? I mean, who knows about her at school to have that kind of information?”
“I agree that it’s a little odd how someone knows this stuff about her, but it’s not hard to look her up,” Raina put in. “What if it’s Tucker?”
I scrunched brows in confusion trying to process everything. I wanted to defend Tucker for some reason but didn’t. Even though Tucker was a pain in my butt, I didn’t think he’d go this far. But his brother? Maybe.
“If it’s Tucker, why would he be harassing Lincoln in the first place?” I shook my head. “That doesn’t add up.”
“It could still be about Roxie,” Tyler added.
“No,” Lincoln denied. “The calls and messages to me were more personal. Like things a girl would ask a guy.”
“Maybe Tucker has someone else doing it for him?” Peter suggested. “A girl to throw everyone off?”
“Kids,” Mr. McGuire spoke, “I know you’re all worried and have your own ideas of who this might be, but in my professional opinion, I don’t think any teenager could pull this off. This person is blocking us from tracing the number. It’s something that’s a little more involved than just teens playing around.”
Kayden scoffed, “Kids nowadays, we can do anything. I knew this kid once that hacked into the government database to get his friends free phone and Internet service on their cells.”
“Was that here?” Brady questioned curiously as his gaze swung over to him. “I don't think I ever heard about that.”
Kayden was a little taken back as his brows furrowed, thinking. “Yeah.”
“It was that Burrows kids, right?” Tyler asked.
Kayden shook his head. “It was Jamison, remember? They took him out of school, and none of us found out what he had done until later.”
“Could this Jamison kid still be around to do something like this?” I asked. “Could he be blocking the tracking signal?”
“I don’t know,” Kayden answered, shoving his hands into his pockets glancing at me before swinging his gaze back to his dad when he spoke.
“This is all speculation,” Mr. McGuire stated, giving each one of us a good stare before landing on Kayden. “There’s no proof. All we can do is lightly look into it and see.”
“Daniels, I’ll need your phone to take down to the station to see if we can track the message. It’s a long shot, but we might have better luck with our IT forensics department,” Brady told me, taking my phone from Mr. McGuire. “You work tonight, right?”
I sighed thinking what more could happen. “Yeah.”
He nodded. “It might be best to take tomorrow and Saturday off. Those days might be rough on you.”
An emotion like none other passed through me, like the world was coming down, but I pushed it to the back of my mind having more important things to think about, like SSK and my assigned kiddos.
I agreed, wondering how I was going to explain it to Mr. White and .
Brady took my phone, and after a brief talk, the girls and I decided to ‘speculate’ some more later at Raina’s haunted house. I had to admit, I was interested in seeing if the house did anything ghostly.
That afternoon, when I was getting into the van that would take us to SSK, Mr. White, who was our driver for the night, gently caught my shoulder before I could climb inside. I glanced toward him curiously, wondering what he wanted.
“Yes?”
Giving me a reassuring smile he searched my face. For what? I didn’t know. “You doing okay?” I frowned, looking down toward the pen in his pocket, thinking. Was I that transparent? “Ms. Daniels?”
I jerked my head up to meet his eyes, mustering up a half smile to reassure him, knowing that he couldn’t have known what had gone on earlier today. “I’m fine, Mr. White, but thanks for asking.”
He nodded, patting my shoulder, urging me back up into the van. “Okay.”
It was weird, and my mind raced, trying to think of a reason why he would’ve asked me that, but it came up blank. Maybe I was keeping my emotions on my sleeve. If that was the case, then I was definitely easy to read at the moment.
“Hey,” someone spoke next to me. I turned and saw Larissa, another classmate in our group.
“Yeah?” I replied buckling up my seatbelt.
“I was just wondering if you're having any problems with your kiddos getting into bed?”
I glanced toward her as I put my book bag down on the floor beneath my feet and sat back up. “No, why?”
She shifted to the side a little bring her leg up to rest on the bench between us, sitting back.
“There’s three of them. Not brothers, but they’re around the same age. and getting them into bed is terrible.”
“Maybe you could try a book to read?” I suggested with a shrug. “Sometimes all they need is routine.”
“Mine won’t take her medicine when I give it to her,” another voice commented behind us. I turned around to see Richard, another classmate.
I was unsure what to say but gave them my advice. “Is it liquid or pill form?”
Richard's brows scrunched up I'm sure wondering where I was going with this line of questioning. “Pill form.”
I nodded. “And you know for sure that your kiddo can swallow pills?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s an emotional duffel? This is just purely hypothetical but what if your kid came from a home where mom popped pills? If that's the case, you shouldn't try to push the issue,” I stated, thinking it sounded reasonable.
“You’re right, Ms. Daniels,” Mrs. Shambles spoke from up front in the passenger seat, “but apparently the child needs to take the meds. What could be another solution to Mr. Frank’s problem?”
“He could hide it in food,” I said naturally not giving up on my thought. “Some pills you're not able to crush because they’re slow-release, but if it isn’t, you can hide it in a drink or food by crushing it. You just have to make sure they eat all the food, though.”
“Ah, I now see where you were going with that,” Mrs. Shambles acknowledged. “Anyone else have anything to add?”
“He could request the medicine come in liquid form,” Pam, another classmate who was sitting beside Richard, replied.
“All good suggestions. Anyone else having trouble?” Mr. White asked.
We spent the whole way giving suggestions and filing away ones we would use for our own kiddos until we got to our destination. When we parked in front of the place that looked more like a mansion, I hurried inside searching for little Sonya. I knew Bates would be outside again playing kickball, and I wanted to give him a bit more time before I dragged him upstairs for homework. He didn’t particularly like homework, but what normal kid did? I wasn't included in that reasoning. I wasn’t normal.
I headed toward the playroom and found Sonya on the floor with her back turned and her little legs apart, stacking blocks between them. She already had a tower going with two and was working on putting a third block on top. Another little boy close by grew interested in what she was doing and stood, rocking on his bare feet as if trying to steady himself.
I stood in the doorway just watching them and how innocent they were, taking pleasure in the simplest things.
I slanted my gaze toward the other para in the room and noticed she was distracted then turned my gaze back to Sonya. My heart warmed when she giggled as she got the third block on her tower without it falling. I could see it though, the moment when the little boy was going to go after her block tower. He dropped to all fours and scrambled near Sonya, reaching over and taking a swipe at it. She grinned at the boy, clapping her hands, giggling again as the blocks fell. A simple smile met my lips as a flood of emotions filled me. She was as cute as a button. How could someone not fall in love with them? I glanced around the room. With all of them? How could anyone just abandon them, hurt them? I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t. Even though I knew something to that effect had happened to me, my parents were kind parents up until that night.
My emotions shifted to a dark and lonely place, and knew I needed to tuck them away. Get it together, Daniels.
When I was able to curve a semi-natural smile, I made my way inside the room and repeated: Fake it until I make it. If all else failed, I could eat chocolate.
I headed over to Sonya as the dark thoughts passed. Feelings of warmth kindled in my soul as her eyes lit up when she recognized me. She abandoned her blocks and friend as she crawled my way until she was at my feet. Hands flew up, reaching for me, and I couldn’t resist scooping her into my arms and letting her pat my face. I chuckled as I glanced over to the para parent, who now realized that she wasn’t alone. Smiling, she gave me a nod of acknowledgment as she drew close and held out a hand for me to shake. “Perry,” she offered.
I took her hand for a brief shake. “Daniels.”
“Sonya did well today,” she stated, pulling her hand back. “She’s always a happy baby, but I think she saves the good stuff for you.”
I chuckled, cuddling Sonya close. “Good. Anything new?”
Perry shook her head, picking up the other little boy. “Not yet. She’s trying to stand but is not quite steady on her feet. This one, though,” she said, bouncing the little boy in her arms, “could take off any day. It’s only a matter of time.” Her tone had softened as she smiled at the little boy before turning back to me. I knew she was attached just like I was.
“It’s not easy, but they need us,” I gently eased, noticing that look. “Even if it comes with heartache, they would've known kindness and love that they might not have gotten otherwise.
She sighed, glancing at Sonya then to me. “Yeah, you’re right, Daniels.” I could detect an undertone of anger. “It isn't easy for us, but it doesn’t hurt any less knowing and having to watch them leave each time for a visit, just to come back with empty promises, bruises and/or emotional abuse.” Her eyes kept mine, and a chill raced down my spine. “If anything, it hurts even more because they trust me, and I let them go. We're just a Band-Aid on the problem, not the medicine to fix it.”
“Do they... don’t the parents eventually get visits taken away if it’s that bad?”
She nodded her eyes guarded. “Sometimes.”
I understood. We could give them love, shelter, food, clothes, our trust, but that didn't mean anything if we kept sending them back to the ones who hurt them. I knew that not all parents were bad and some did need help with learning how to be a better parent. Those kids would go home eventually, but the others were going to be in the system long term unless the courts stepped in. Even then, that rarely happened. I knew. I had been in the system enough to see kids sent back home. Some were happy; others... weren’t.
I gave a quick nod of understanding before I leaned in to give Sonya kisses on her slobbery face and bounced her, just to see her little eyes go wide and giggle.
“Come on,” I whispered before giving Perry a hesitant wave and heading out into the hall. “Let's see if we can find your big brother.”
Sonya gave another giggle, her eyes lighting up almost as if she knew who was I was talking about as we head down the hall toward the outside where I knew her brother would be.
Outside, Bates was in another ball game with one of his friends, but when he saw us, he abandoned his teammate, just like last time, and took off running our way.
“F-F- Faith!” he cried, his cheeks bunching up into a smile. Little arms wrapped around my legs, almost throwing me off kilter. I chuckled, patting his red hair. He flinched.
“Whoa there, buddy. You almost knocked me over.”
“I-I’m g-g-glad you’re h-h-here,” he stuttered with a smile.
I gave him one of my own, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Me too, short stuff.”
He pulled back, letting his little sister wrap her hand around two of his fingers, giving it a little shake and cooing at her before informing me that he wasn’t little.
“Ok then,” I stated as he dropped his sister’s hand to place it in mine. We walked together toward the back door. “Come on, Little Boy Mine, let’s get that homework done.”
“No,” he protested good naturally but followed just the same.
I chuckled, my heart warming. These kids made me happy. “You know it’s important. We need to learn in order to grow in our noggin.” I pulled my hand free, rocking my knuckles gently across his head, not thinking. He froze, jerking away. I frowned. “Sorry, buddy,” I said patting his back instead. “I was just teasing. I won’t do it again, ok?”
His shoulders relaxed, and head fell as if he were ashamed. “We’re good. No worries. Sometimes it’s good to listen to your body. If someone does something you don’t like, it’s ok to pull away. I’m not angry.”
He nodded, still upset, but slipped his hand back into mine, and the two of us headed into the house.
We worked our way up the stairs to his room that was right across the hall from one of the bathrooms. Bates and Sonya shared their room with another set of siblings. The boy he played ball with, named Hunter, was slightly younger and slept on the bottom of the two bunk beds while Bates took the top. Double white standard cribs were placed flush against a wall, separated by a window with dresser beneath it. One of the cribs was Sonya’s with a neutral brown bumper and pink sheets. A pink blanket rested inside. The other one belonged to Cole, Hunter’s baby brother. He was barely six months old, and their para-parent stayed the night, checking on them every so often. Cole’s bed was much the same with the brown bumper, but differed with a blue sheet and blue blanket.
I put Sonya down on the floor with some small toys that were kept in the room and helped Bates with his homework. After his pages of basic math were done, we moved onto spelling words, followed by a short story he had to read. After everything had been done, I had him put it back in his school bag.
“Alright, buddy,” I announced and picked myself up off the of the floor where we both had been sitting with our backs against Hunter’s bed. “Time to head to dinner.” I scooped up Sonya and took Bates’s small hand in mine. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” I growled, teasingly.
Bates giggled, “That wasn’t your stomach. You’re funny, Faith.”
“You bet I am,” I assured him, amused.
We made our way down the hall toward the stairs when someone stepped out of one of the bedrooms on the right. Bates tensed and edged closer to me. It only took a moment before I realized that it was Dwight, the little teenage kid that tried to hit on me.
He sneered at Bates before turning toward me, locking his lips and humping air my way. Eeeew. I scrunched up my nose, shook my head and ignored him, and while keeping my hand tightly in Bates’s, we passed. Bates scooted in front of me for protection as Dwight was behind us.
“Hey, girlie, I was talking you,” The idiot barked, grabbing hold my shoulder. I knocked his hand off, accelerating my pace. I could see the stairs.
“It was more like pathetic dry humping,” I retorted, calmly urging Bates to keep moving. Dwight’s hand grabbed my shoulder again, but I shifted, elbowing him in the chest.
“Uhm-ugh,” he groaned and Bates, and I kept moving.
“Ass,” I muttered as we head downstairs.
“Ass,” Bates repeated clearly, and Sonya giggled for no reason. I snickered.
We went into the dining area, ate dinner and then the three of us started back up those stairs. That was when Dwight struck again. The idiot was severely getting on my nerves. Midway up, a body push Bates and me aside as it rushed passed.
“Hey! Watch where you're going, kid!” I complained, wanting to give whoever it was a piece of my mind.
“T-t-that w-was D-D-Dwight,” Bates muttered, keeping up. “Ass. H-h-he’s not very n-nice.”
I was sure Bates could see the steam coming out of my ears as I replied, “No, he’s not. And don’t say ‘ass’ anymore, ok?” I told him firmly, him even though I agreed. “It’s not a kind word,” I muttered stomping up the stairs.
“But he’s not a nice person,” Bates replied simply as we got to the top. A door slammed, and I sighed. “Bath time, kiddos.”
We started our nightly routine, setting out clothes for tomorrow before heading across the hall toward the bathroom. We only had an hour timeframe to get into the tub cleaned up and get out before the next group had to use it. Bath times were Bates’s favorite.
With a now clean Sonya, I tugged the drain plug letting out the dirty water before scooping up a giggling toddler and wrapping her in a towel. After putting on her diaper, I let her sit there for a moment to play with some toys as I checked the tub and started some fresh bathwater for Bates.
I asked if he wanted bubbles, and of course he nodded excitedly and began to take off his shirt. I grinned, turning back to my task, squirting a little bit of soap in and swishing it around to make those bubbles come alive. Then I threw in some little race cars that he could play with along with a tiny toy ship about the size of my hand. He loved that ship.
Turning my back to Bates for privacy, I let him finish undressing and jump in the tub by himself while I waited for his ‘okay.’
“Ready!” he called, and I turned, giving him a washcloth so he could scrub his body and those grubby feet of his.
I proceed to get Sonya dressed before turning back to him.
“Ready, buddy?” He nodded, and I washed his hair.
Even though he flinched every so often, he seemed to be more comfortable with me than he had been the last time. We finished up and got into PJs and then went to his room where I put them to bed.
I couldn’t help but sigh while stepping out into the hall, but I loved doing this. Working here and being able to sit with Sonya in my lap as I read the two of them a story, or the feeling that I got when I could relate to them, were wonderful times to me. Waves of emotions crashed into my heart as if I were Bates’s small boat in the ravaging sea of bath time play. These kids needed love, and that’s what we were here for, but knowing that didn't make the pain or fear of them leaving any easier. I feared that time was coming soon.
I had to reason with myself. We were here to figure out their triggers, to give them love and attention that they desperately needed and to help them thrive while they were in the system. Whether they were waiting to go back home, hoping for a better life, or staying here always in limbo, it was hard, and I could understand where they were coming from.
I headed downstairs to our nightly meeting in the conference room and met up with my fellow classmates.
We all sat down while Mr. White closed the door, and Mrs. Shambles started to address the meeting, pulling out her notes. “Anything new going on tonight with your kiddos? Noticing any behaviors, reactions, anything like that?”
Each one of us went through our observations with the kids we had, stating if we noticed anything off with them. When it was my turn, I relayed the same things I had before in the previous meetings. That Bates was still not comfortable with the name ‘Daniels’ due to it being a trigger of some sort. I could only assume was an emotional duffel and decided it wasn’t in his best interest to dig into it. Bath time seemed to be fine. I told Mrs. Shambles that Bates or Sonya didn’t seem to suffer from any attachment disorders; they both bonded to me just fine, but that there was a possibility of there being some physical abuse in the home. I told her that I assumed this due to certain touches that Bates would flinch away from. Others murmured that they had had similar responses with some of their kiddos as well. Mrs. Shambles repeated her instructions for those cases:
1. Back off and give some space.
2. Reassure and address the issue at different points in time.
It was good advice. Similar to the approach that Brady had with me when I was still getting to know him and Sarah.
Speaking of Brady, I wanted to talk to Mrs. Shambles and see what she knew about the whole adoption process and if I could look into it for my foster parents.
Knowing it was a far-fetched idea, I was still going to try. I wanted to see if I could ease them into the notion. And if they did decide to go through with it, I would have all the information ready for them. It was also kind of selfish on my part. I had a secret wish.
I had taken pictures of Bates and Sonya earlier, even though I knew that we weren’t supposed to, but I wanted to be able to show Brady and Sarah what my kiddos looked like. I had one of Bates playing ball the week before and then one from today of the two of them their bedroom while Bates was setting out clothes. He had given me a biggest cheesy grin with fingers in his ears, trying to be funny. The stinker. I also had one of Sonya from the first day I met her because her big expressive eyes caught me off guard.
I wished that I could keep them. That I could adopt them. But they were not up for adoption, and I knew their plan was still to return to their parents.
“Alright class, let's head on out,” Mr. White ordered, standing up as Mrs. Shambles concluded our meeting.
I stood, and while everyone was packing their stuff away, I scooted my way over to the two of them, addressing Mr. White first.
“Sir?” I asked hesitantly, glancing from the two of them as I stood a little bit away from them. Mrs. Shambles eyes sought mine out curiously, but Mr. White’s shot up from his bag and a small smile filtered his face. “Yes, Ms. Daniels?”
I shouldered my bag and asked my question, “I was wondering if you knew the process of adopting?”
Mrs. Shambles chuckled. Mr. White's brows rose, eyes wide, his lips parted. “Why?”
“Can’t you see?” Mrs. Shambles stated, gesturing my way. “She’s grown attached to one of them.”
I flustered as everyone in the room paused, probably wondering about the same question and interested in where this was going. “I was just curious,” I denied. “My...” I hesitated, wondering what I would call them, but to make it less awkward I said, “I wanted to find out for my parents. To see if maybe adopting would be something they would want to do.” The two of them nodded slowly.
“Well,” Mrs. Shambles started with a gentle smile. “First, you have to find an agency.”
Mr. White tapped his papers on the table trying to straighten them before putting them away. “Then you’d have to go through their process usually,” he said shrugging, glancing over to Mrs. Shambles with a knowing glance then back to me. “You’d have to get a fingerprint clearance card, a home study—”
“What’s a home study?” I wondered, interrupting him.
“It’s where a person comes out to your home and ask about your history: your home life, your parents, you. It’s to see if adoption would be good for fit for your family,” Mrs. Shambles answered.
I nodded slowly, looking down at the table, taking it all in. “And after that?” I questioned softly.
“Well, after that, you’ll need to go through some classes and get a physical done for each member of the household and then get a lawyer,” she went on.
“So pretty much the same as guardianship,” I concluded, glancing up to the two of them.
Mr. White searched my face, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, similar but it’s more in depth, Ms. Daniels.”
“And cost? What does that run?”
Mr. White reached into his bag pulling out a card and handing it to me. “Take this and give it to your”—he paused then continued slowly—“give it to your parents. This is someone that can help them with any questions concerning adoption.”
“Okay, sure,” I said taking it and putting it into my bag.
“And, Faith, I think you...” Mrs. Shambles started as I turned away. I paused, tensing, shifting to look at them again. None of my teachers had ever used my first name before. As the others started to filter out of the room, I waited to see what more they had to say.
Mrs. Shambles had brown hair piled into a bun on top of her head that gave me the impression that she once was a librarian in a past life. Maybe be a little bit older than Mr. White.
Mr. White was probably in his early forties if not fifties, and his hair was more of a dirty blonde than brown with a lean build.
I wondered if Mrs. Shambles had grandkids or if Mr. White was a lonely man with no wife at home. I focused on him briefly. Why else would he put up with late hours? Why did he teach what he teaches, and why did he work at SSK? What was he—
“Faith,” he said yet again, trying to grab my attention. He looked worried, his mouth twisted in a grimace.
“Yes?” I said harsher than I meant to.
His gaze softened. “Don’t get attached. These kids, rarely do they come up for adoption.”
My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I gave him a quick nod, glancing over to Mrs. Shambles before I rushed out to the van. I knew that, but having him say it when it was exactly what I was thinking... it was hard to swallow.
When we got back to the college, Lincoln was there waiting for me as he had been before. I was still feeling down about what Mr. White had said, but my spirits lifted when I saw Lincoln greeting me with the same truck and a brilliant smile. He was the perfect example of boyish charm. I sighed. That's right, driving lessons tonight again.
Instead of having me hop in the passenger seat, Lincoln handed me the keys and gave me a wicked grin.
“It’s your turn, Sweetheart. It time for a drive on the streets.”
I hesitated to take the keys. “Lincoln, I don’t think I can.”
“You can, and you will,” he stated, propelling me toward the driver side. Opening the door, he helped me inside then he took a hold of my wrist and placed the truck keys in my hands. I glanced up into his crystal blues that seared into my soul. “You got this,” he said. “I’m with you. So, don’t worry. It’s all good, got it?”
I nodded soberly, taking his faith in me and assurances and making them my own. I could do this. No, I would do this. I just hoped a cop wouldn’t pull us over. It would be hard to explain why I was driving when I didn't have a permit.
Lincoln gave me an encouraging smile as if he knew what had just gone on in my head and leaned in, giving me a brief kiss, before shutting my door and jumping into the passenger seat.
He coached me all the way. Told me what roads to take—roads I hadn’t ever been on before—and encouraged me to go slow, take it easy, or to speed up.
When I realized where we were going, I grew nervous. “Lincoln, I don’t think I can do the highway.”
His hand reached across the space between us and he laid it on my thigh, distracting me. “Don’t worry, it’s not all that bad, and it’s late. Not a whole lot of people are out.”
“I don’t think—”
“Come on, Faith. You can do this,” he said, giving my thigh a squeeze. My nerves jumbled at the movement.
I sighed again, taking the on-ramp that headed north with my hands tightening on the wheel. My shoulders tensed even more as I merged onto the highway into barren traffic. Lincoln's hand slipped higher on my thigh, his warmth burning through my jeans and into my skin. My breath caught. He was distracting me, and he was right. This late at night wasn’t too bad. He navigated me to take an off-ramp about thirty minutes into our drive and to ease left. It was then that I realized where we were going.
“Isn’t this the way to Uncle Denny’s?” I asked, pretty sure that my assumption was right.
He murmured, “Yes,” glancing my way, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off the road. “It’s a surprise.”
My shoulders loosened as curiosity won over. My mind filled with question and possibilities as I became giddy. It was about time I had some Lincoln moments. I couldn’t wait to see what he had planned.