Some Bright Someday (Maple Valley #2) - Melissa Tagg Page 0,117

his world tilted one too many times in different directions.”

“You never told me you knew my dad. You didn’t tell me about his other family. And Noah—you sent him here knowing we’d eventually figure things out. What was the purpose in that?”

Flagg’s expression had gone almost apologetic. “Yes, your father and I had a passing acquaintance and yes, he’s the one who first contacted me about you. He checked in now and then, asked how you were doing. As I got to know a little more of him and his story, I struggled through the years with what to do. I prayed about it. I thought about telling you—so many times. But every time, something stopped me. A still, small voice I’ve learned to listen to.”

“You’re saying God told you to lie to me?”

“I’m saying that with my limited, human understanding, I sensed Him telling me to wait on His timing.”

“And you were that confident you heard Him correctly?”

Flagg shook his head. “No. But I was—I am—that confident that His grace, guidance, and compassion are bigger than any mistakes I could make. I don’t think it’s nearly as much about whether we hear everything correctly all the time as whether we’re still listening.”

It sounded nice, but Lucas had tried listening. Ever since that morning in church, he’d tried. One of the things he’d prayed about was whether to contact Jen’s aunt and for a while, he’d felt so good about how that had turned out.

But since then, it felt like his prayers were hitting a concrete ceiling and then simply dropping. And he was left to pick up the scattered pieces, clueless what to do with them.

“I don’t think I have the kind of faith you do, sir. Too much has happened. I’ve drifted away.”

Flagg had appeared to ponder his admission for a few quiet seconds. “Personally, son, I happen to think a weathered faith is a good faith. It means you’ve been through a storm and back. Or maybe you’re still in it—still fighting. Maybe your belief is battered and weak. But that just means you’re in a prime place for a rescue. For a miracle.”

But since when had Lucas been the kind of man who received miracles?

Flagg stood then, plunked a handful of change into the vending machine. Bought Lucas a pop and a bag of candy. “What’s your girl’s favorite candy? Might as well bring her some.”

His girl.

His girl who’d just been told there was a possibility the kids she adored might be able to have a home with her after all.

If there were no “major obstacles” in the way.

Jen was asking the nurse a question now, wondering how soon she’d be able to see Colie. She still wore Lucas’s suit jacket, its sleeves far too long for her arms. She’d swept her hair over to the side for the gala, but tendrils had escaped throughout the harrowing events of the night.

He let out a tattered breath, turned to Flagg. “I think now might be a good time to slip away.”

Flagg’s brow creased. “You sure?”

He nodded and started toward the revolving door before he could change his mind. Chilly night air entrapped him when he stepped outside. He had no concept of what time it was and the half a can of pop he’d chugged churned in his stomach. He’d have to ride with Flagg, so Jen could have the vehicle they’d borrowed.

“Lucas!”

He closed his eyes. Turned.

He should’ve known Jenessa would see him leave and chase him out.

Flagg patted his back. “I’m in the blue Jeep at the far end of the lot. I’ll wait.”

Jen’s heels clicked over the cement as she hurried to him, the lights of the hospital glowing behind her against the dark night. “You can’t leave now.”

“Jen—”

“They said we can see her in an hour or so. At least stay until then. She’d want to see you. Not that she’ll be awake, but . . .” A frantic edge laced her voice. “Please don’t go.”

“I heard Carmen’s news. And I won’t do it, Jen. I won’t be the reason those kids don’t get to stay with you long-term. I’m not going to be an obstacle to that dream coming true for you or for them.” Please don’t argue. If she did, he didn’t know how he’d make himself leave.

As if she could read his thoughts, she didn’t speak. But the tears in her eyes were worse than any words. She slowly took off his suit jacket, held it out. Only when he accepted