play alone. Especially in an apartment setting.â She leaned forward slightly. âYou mentioned this morning that youâd tried a local day care center, but it hadnât worked out?â
âIt lasted all of two days. Josh had anâ¦accidentâ¦both days during his nap, and they werenât willing to deal with a bed-wetting four-year-old.â
She frowned. âDoes this happen often?â
âNo. Emily says when heâs upset he tends to have accidents at night. Itâs happened a couple of times.â
âLosing their mother is more than enough to upset young children. Not to mention moving to a new place.â Compassion softened Cateâs features.
âTo be honest, theyâve had far more trauma than that.â Drawing a ragged breath, Clay gave her a brief overview of their lifeâand of his sisterâs death. As he spoke, the sympathy in Cateâs eyes changed to shock, then horror.
âAn environment like that can be so destructive to a child.â She sent a concerned glance toward Emily and Josh. âIt can take years to undo the damage.â
âAnd Iâm not the best person for the job. Iâm on the move a lot, and I work long hours. Neither of which is conducive to family life.â
âThereâs no one else who can take the children?â
âMy father says they can live with him after he recovers from a bout of pneumonia. But my sister wouldnât have wanted that.â
âMay I ask why?â
Leaning forward, Clay rested his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees. âMy father isnât the warmest or kindest person in the world.â He chose his words with care as he stared at the floor. âThese kids would wither in his house. They need fun and laughter and love, and they wonât get it there.â
âAre you going to keep them?â
âI donât know.â He raked his fingers through his hair, the familiar panic twisting his stomach into a knot. âI left home atseventeen, spent a dozen years in the Army, and I now have a job that takes me all over the country. Iâve been on my own for close to eighteen years, and I like it that way. Iâve never wanted a responsibility like this. As long as the kids are with me, though, I want to do my best to restore some semblance of childhood to their lives. But I canât do it alone. Thatâs why I need your help.â
Cateâs gaze locked with his for a moment. Then she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and rose. âI need to give this a little thought, and pray about it. Can I call you later tonight?â
He stood, too, doing his best to rein in his escalating panic. Although heâd been concerned at first about Cateâs disability, after talking with her and watching how sheâd connected with Emily and Josh, he knew she would be perfect for them. But he understood her caution. She wouldnât be walking into the easiest situation. Yet they needed her, as surely as parched plants need water to survive.
âLook, is there anything I can say to convince you? I can give you the name of my sisterâs minister in Nebraska, or the police department, if you want to check out my story.â
âI know how hard this must be for you.â Her features gentled. âGive me a few hours. Iâll have an answer for you tonight.â She grasped her cane and stood. âIâd like to say goodbye to the children.â
âCould Iâ¦would you mind giving me your phone number?â Clay didnât even try to hide his desperation.
âOf course.â She recited her number as he jotted it down. âBut I will call tonight.â
He watched as she moved over to the table and gave each childâs drawings her full attention, offering words of praise and encouragement. Their faces were more animated than Clay had ever seen them.
If he was the praying type, heâd get