Page 19 of Playing With Fire

Ricky’s heart seemed to stop. His blood roared in his ears like the very first time he had jumped into the firetruck, sirens wailing and adrenaline spiking—half of him was hellbent on running into the flames while the other half was urging him to leap out of the truck and run the other way. Out of danger.

Because he saw now, understood in a way which both thrilled every nerve fiber and set off every alarm bell in his head and his heart, that Jodi Ruskin was danger.

He murmured some non-committal response to Hattie. His neck was burning, and he rather suspected that his observant lunch companion was still reading him like a book.

Ricky focused on buttering a piece of bread that he did not want, composing himself.

This was all part of the endgame, he reminded himself. He had come back to Temple Mountain for one reason. Just like he was eating the best food he could remember and chatting with a pastor at a church lunch for one reason.

Hattie and Silas Beecham would be connected to other foster and adoptive parents in Temple Mountain, though it was dollars to donuts that Hattie wouldn’t hand over any information. Not straight out.

He segued smoothly to his own agenda.

“These foster children all come to you through the county Department of Human and Health Services, right?”

“You’ve been doing your homework,” said Hattie. She ate a miniscule chunk of potato salad and crumbled some bread. “Yes they do. Silas and I were over at Rochester before we came here, which is the same county office. The county is the gatekeeper for services like adoption, child protection, residential care, and foster placement, which they call the Homefinding department. We’ve done the training and the home studies and are registered foster parents.”

Ricky helped himself to homemade cranberry sauce as it was passed down the table. His brain was whirring. “It seems a bit...risky, taking kids in as a foster parent, coming to care about them—love them I guess—and not knowing if one day the county might yank them away and give them back to their parents.”

Hattie nodded again. “Love is risky. Life is risky. But here we are.” Her voice was matter of fact, but Ricky could sense a slight tremor. “We are working through the adoption process for the twins right now, as well as for Jaime.”

Ricky stared. It was one thing adopting a newborn or small child, but a teenager with anger issues? Two teenagers with anger issues? Were these people saints or fools?

At that moment Alma appeared at Hattie’s elbow. She was immediately scooped into a loose one-armed hug. Ricky heard lots of breathy whispering, which seemed to be about whether Alma really needed to eat all the salad that some well-meaning adult had heaped on her plate. The little girl smiled and wriggled away.

“She’s a little anxious,” said Hattie softly. “She can’t get it out of her head that she won’t get into terrible trouble if she doesn’t follow all the rules. Her last foster home was a little...strict.”

They were interrupted by a shout of outrage from the children’s table. Ricky turned to see Judah’s arm swing across the table, clipping his brother’s head sharply. Before Josh could return the favor, Silas was on the spot, gripping the offender’s wrist with his huge palm. The older man spoke quietly and earnestly.

Hattie looked a little sad as they watched Judah clamber ungraciously to his feet. The boy’s neck was stiff with resentment. He stomped out of the room. A door banged upstairs, and his footsteps overhead were loud and unhappy.

Ricky glanced curiously around the table. No one else seemed to pay the slightest attention, so he slowly returned to his own meal.

Had he behaved like that when he was a teenager?

Nah.

Maybe. The injustices of life burned deeply in the adolescent breast.

Ricky felt the fleeting touch of Hattie’s cool hand.

“I know, all that...anger...is a bit alarming at first. But Judah is a sweet boy, and he loves his brother dearly. And he is trying so hard to manage his temper. It’s not been easy for either of them. And then of course, their father...” Her voice trailed off. Hattie looked apologetic. “Oh dear, there’s me again, talking out of school.”

Ricky felt another brief pang of empathy for the sullen Judah.

“Tell me,” he began slowly. He stopped, tried to arrange his words in a non-judgmental way. “Forgive me for saying this, but these kids clearly have a passel of problems, especially the older ones. And you really want to adopt them?”

Hattie’s smile was wide and instant. “Yep, as soon as the county allows us, though Alma will return to her mom in a few months. That’s the aim, of course, to reunite kids where possible and to support the family unit.”

She glanced down the table, and Ricky followed her gaze. Jaime was securely enfolded on Josh’s lap, giggling as he fed her bits of carrot.

“Every child, no matter how damaged, holds a kernel of love and hope in their heart. Silas and I...” Hattie paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “We know what it is to be broken. These children heal us just as much as we try to heal them.”

She ducked her head, suddenly shy, and passed him a bowl of greens. Her neighbor on the other side, who had been waiting for a word, grabbed his opportunity.

“Now Hattie, we need to talk about getting that furnace done before winter...”

Left to his own devices, Ricky tuned into the conversations around him. The treasurer was talking earnestly to his neighbor about the need to rebuild the church’s reserve funds instead of fixing the furnace, since it was bound to be a mild winter like last year, and Hattie was now discussing the finer points of upcycling worn-out jeans with a teenager sitting opposite.

---