Her feminine chuckle filled the car. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Silence lulled between them, and she reached for the door handle. “Thanks again for everything. I couldn’t have made it through this day without your support.”
“Are you going to be okay tonight?”
“I think so. Seeing her put me at ease.”
“If you need anything, you have my number.” He pointed to his phone in the cupholder for emphasis.
“Don’t be surprised if I do call you.” She pushed open the door. “Either way, I’ll give you an update tomorrow.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.” With a final smile, she slid her legs out of the car and left.
He watched her until he heard her car start and then his eyes followed her driving away. Leaning his head on the car rest, he grinned. Today hadn’t gone as expected, but he wouldn’t have changed it for anything—other than Roxie never needing a biopsy.
But then, would he have met Rachel?
Chapter Five
The cabbage from Rachel’s chopped salad crunched with each bite she took. She’d picked up the prepackaged meal from the grocery store on her way back from picking up permits at city hall. Her mind spun with all the paperwork required for the shelter.
Thank goodness she had an amazing administrative assistant who could organize a hoarder’s mansion. The new education building would add an influx of red tape and signatures, and she got a headache thinking about it.
Focus on the outcome. All the hard work would be worth it once the center opened.
Someone knocked on the door. “Do you have a minute, Miss Rachel?”
“Always. Come in, Tiffany.” She laid down her fork to give her first success story from Hope House her full attention.
Once a resident of the shelter, Tiffany now oversaw the daycare center, watching and loving on the children while their moms attended required classes, job interviews, and worked to get back on their feet. “I know funds are tight, but would it be possible to replace one of the cribs in the nursery?”
Rachel restrained her cringe. Despite receiving the grant for the education building, the shelter still ran on a shoestring, and they couldn’t use funds earmarked for that project. “How soon do we need one?”
“I don’t feel comfortable using the pine one anymore. Carl’s fixed it numerous times, but the side rails continue to loosen.” Tiffany’s facial muscles tightened. “The problem is, we only have three cribs, but four babies with us right now.”
“Don’t use it if you believe it’s at all unsafe. We have a portable crib in storage you can use for now, and I’ll make a few calls and social media posts. Lord willing, we’ll have a new one donated over the weekend.”
Tiffany smiled. “I like your faith, Miss Rachel.”
After all her worrying about Roxie, she wasn’t sure she deserved that compliment, but she’d take it. “Who is on weekend duty?”
“I am, and Cathy from First Church will be here as a volunteer.”
“Let her know not to use the crib, please.” She rolled backward in her chair several inches to stretch her legs. “Better yet, I’ll page Carl to remove it.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s Abram feeling? Did he settle down?”
“Yes. The infant Tylenol did the trick.” Relief glimmered in Tiffany’s eyes. “I’m glad Keelie went to work. I know she was worried about her baby, but I assured her he was in good hands.”
“Me too. She worked hard to get that job. Did you call her to let her know?”
“I sent her a text. Didn’t want her in trouble for her phone ringing.”
“Smart idea.” She scooted the chair forward and drank a sip of iced tea. “I hate seeing babies in pain. We’ll all be happy when he finally cuts that tooth.”
