that Adele remembered Sally praying with him each night. The words created another quiver of sorrow. And behind that came the feeling of frustration with her friend for creating false hopes in Dean.
"And thanks for letting me be with my...with Mr. Wyatt," Dean amended, his small correction creating another quiver. "I hope he gets better soon."
Adele laid her head on their joined hands, sending up her own prayer for strength and release of her concerns.
"Are you praying too?" Dean’s small voice broke into her thoughts.
Adele kept her head there a moment, then looked up at him, smiling. "Just a little bit."
This seemed to satisfy him. She brushed a kiss over his forehead, got to her feet, and then left the room. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, sending up yet another prayer. This one was formless, shapeless. Just a releasing of all the worries and concerns that dogged her. The unknown that hung over this poor, innocent little boy. As her foster mother would say, she laid everything in the large, strong hands of God.
He can carry your burdens better than you can, Bonnie used to tell her.
She pulled in a slow breath, feeling a surprising and unexpected sense of peace.
Maybe prayers work, she thought, pushing herself away from the door.
But as soon as she stepped into the living room, she realized she had left her backpack at the ranch. She felt lost without it.
She tried watching television but couldn't find anything that interested her. So she gave up and went to bed herself. But as she lay in the room, staring through the dark at the ceiling, her thoughts centered on Wyatt.
On how he watched her as she drove away.
Chapter Seven
"Go to church today, go to church today," Maya sang, brandishing her crayons as she colored the picture Adele had printed off for her and Maria.
She looked up at Adele, who was frying French toast for breakfast. "You come too." Her words were more of a command than a question, typical for the child.
"Yes, I come too," she said, wishing she could sound more enthusiastic about it.
"Church is fun," Maria put in, frowning as if sensing Adele's reluctance.
"I'm sure it can be."
It had been years since Adele attended, and the only reason she was going today was for Dean. Sally took him all the time and if Wyatt and his daughters went, then Dean should too.
She glanced at the clock again, wondering when Wyatt would return.
The past few days Adele, Dean, the girls, and Wyatt had slipped into an easy rhythm. Adele and Dean always arrived before the twins got up, netting some grumbling from Dean about how the girls got to sleep in but he didn't. She made breakfast each morning, which they all ate together, and then Wyatt left to feed and bed the cows and get some work done in his shop that he said had been waiting for weeks. While he came in for lunch, he often grabbed a quick sandwich then left. She usually made supper for the family. They would eat together and then she and Dean would leave for town.
Apparently, the previous nanny wasn't very reliable and Wyatt didn't dare leave her alone with the kids too long. So he had been falling behind on maintenance of the tractor and a bunch of welding and repairs on other pieces of equipment that kept him busy.
Yesterday it was the hay bine that he'd been struggling to find the time to repair since the last time he used it in the fall.
She looked up at the clock, wondering if she should send him a text that breakfast was ready. They had to eat, and she had to clean up the girls and get them ready for church—all within the next hour.
"I'm hungry," Maria announced, looking up from her picture. “Can we eat now?”
Adele agreed, but hoped Wyatt would come back on time. She knew he didn't enjoy missing meals with the girls.
She cleared off the table with the help of the kids, and got the plates and utensils on the table. Adele waited, listening, but Wyatt wasn't back at the house yet. So she pulled out her phone and sent him a quick text, hoping he hadn't hurt himself. Hoped he was okay.
He's fine. Stop worrying.
Adele shook off her concerns. But as she set the plate of French toast on the table beside the sausages she had fried, she couldn't stop her mind from ticking back to another fateful Sunday.