Книга - North Country Family

North Country Family
Lois Richer


Making AmendsAfter losing his clients’ lifesavings, former broker Rick Salinger, went in search of redemption. Now a pastor in the remote Canadian town of Churchill, he focuses on his congregation and working with the kids at a center for troubled boys. But when the center’s new nurse arrives with her own struggling son, Rick fears getting too close. Widowed mom Cassie Crockett once lost almost everything because of Rick—and he’s not sure she’ll ever forgive him. Yet he can’t stop his growing feelings for her. He wants to help Cassie and her son build a new life . . . one that just might include him.Northern Lights: On the edge of the Arctic, love awaits.







Making Amends

After losing his clients’ life savings, former broker Rick Salinger went in search of redemption. Now a pastor in the remote Canadian town of Churchill, he focuses on his congregation and working with the kids at a center for troubled boys. But when the center’s new nurse arrives with her own struggling son, Rick fears getting too close. Widowed mom Cassie Crockett once lost almost everything because of Rick—and he’s not sure she’ll ever forgive him. Yet he can’t stop his growing feelings for her. He wants to help Cassie and her son build a new life…one that just might include him.

Northern Lights: On the edge of the Arctic, love awaits


“Rick, would you be able to talk

to my son?” Cassie asked.

“Ever since his dad died, he’s been struggling. I can’t seem to reach him. But you might.”

Rick’s heart swelled with compassion for this mother’s hurting heart.

“Please?” she whispered.

“I don’t know that it will make any difference, Cassie, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help Noah,” Rick said. “The offer is open to you, too, if you want.”

She shut down—there was no other way to express it. “Thank you, but I don’t talk about the past. I appreciate whatever you can do for Noah though.”

It was a warning. Back off. And yet Rick knew he was going to have a hard time doing that. Her husband’s death had affected her whether she admitted it or not.

Don’t get involved, his brain chided again.

She’s hurting, his soul answered. Am I not here to help others? How else can I make amends for my past?

He lifted his head and found a pair of beautiful brown eyes watching him.

Staying focused on his goal definitely wasn’t going to be easy.


LOIS RICHER

began her travels the day she read her first book and realized that fiction provided an extraordinary adventure. Creating that adventure for others became her obsession. With millions of books in print, Lois continues to enjoy creating stories of joy and hope. She and her husband love to travel, which makes it easy to find the perfect setting for her next story. Lois would love to hear from you via www.loisricher.com (http://www.loisricher.com), loisricher@yahoo.com or on Facebook.


North Country Family

Lois Richer




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.

—Proverbs 3:5–6


This book is dedicated to my sister Darcy,

who sees a need, and quietly, in her own way, fills it.

Bless you, Darc.


Contents

Chapter One (#u36003716-d1e2-503e-8eb8-02e368451477)

Chapter Two (#u1c144da4-54cb-57ee-b802-229adc254e47)

Chapter Three (#u7f41aaaa-0aeb-5398-bbfb-01b7d7f71011)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“My dad’s d-dead.”

Rick Salinger ignored the December snowscape outside to study the face of the stuttering boy slouched on the train seat next to him. They’d been talking for the past half hour.

His heart ached for both Noah and his father, but at the moment he felt most saddened by the knowledge that Noah’s father would never get to see his son grow and change. That sadness came from the knowledge that Rick would never get to see a son grow and change, either. He would never have a family. Because he didn’t deserve one.

“My d-dad stole f-from our ch-church.” Noah rubbed one eye then put his glasses back in place. “Th-then he k-killed himself. M-mom said he was t-too a-ashamed to t-tell us.”

Rick wanted to hug the kid, but Noah’s rigid expression said he wouldn’t tolerate that.

“My f-father died r-running away. And now that’s wh-what we’re d-doing, too.”

“Running away?” Rick stared at him, surprised by the disgust in the boy’s voice.

“My m-mom calls it s-starting over,” Noah muttered.

“That’s way different than running away.” Rick frowned when the boy shrugged. He tried a different approach. “You and your mom must miss your dad, Noah.”

“M-my mom m-maybe. She c-cries when she th-thinks I c-can’t hear her, but I d-don’t cry for him.” Noah’s fingers tightened around his iPod.

“I’m really sorry,” Rick told him sincerely. He suppressed a groan. What an inane remark. “That’s not much help, is it? But you can pray about it.”

“I don’t p-pray,” Noah said, an edge tingeing his voice. “N-not anymore.”

“That’s too bad because God hears the prayers of His kids,” Rick said softly.

“Maybe He h-hears but He d-doesn’t answer.” Noah turned his head away.

“God always answers, Noah.” A yearning to help this angry, fatherless boy swelled deep inside Rick. “You know, a lot of us make mistakes that we wish we could undo. But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t hear our prayers.”

“Then wh-why doesn’t He m-make things d-different?” Noah demanded.

Rick had asked himself that same question a thousand times, mostly whenever he was reminded of his last days as a stockbroker, right after he’d made that last, greedy, too-speculative gamble and lost his clients’ money. Seniors, single parents, a fund to help the needy—they’d all put their trust in wonder broker Rick Salinger. And because he was so desperate to prove he was better than the no-account street kid he’d been, he’d skipped the due diligence and invested in a scheme that cost them everything.

With that memory came waves of guilt. For a moment he got sucked into it. Then he shook it off, forcing himself to focus on Noah.

“You want God to wave a magic wand and make it all better?” When Noah nodded, Rick smiled. “That would be nice, but I think God wants us to learn from our mistakes.”

Noah didn’t look convinced. “How do you kn-know for sure?”

“Because God is a loving Father who wants the best for His kids.” Rick stifled a laugh at the look on Noah’s face. Clearly the kid had no love for members of the clergy.

“My g-grandfather is a minister, t-too,” he said after a long silence.

Rick waited for more information but Noah just added, “I wish m-my mom would w-wake up. I’m s-starving.”

As if in answer, an anxious voice across the aisle, two rows back, called, “Noah?”

Rick watched Noah’s shoulders tense. He waited for the boy to answer. When he didn’t, Rick said, “He’s here. With me.” He half rose to identify himself and immediately got caught in the worry-filled stare of the loveliest brown eyes he’d ever seen.

A woman who looked too young to be the mother of this boy stood. She passed a hand over her jeans, straightened a sweater that accentuated the golden glints in her eyes then stepped into the aisle. Her blond hair caressed her cheeks in tumbled layers of tousled curls as she raked a hand through them.

He knew that face.

Rick scrambled to remember where he’d seen her before but came up blank. He was positive that he knew her, though Noah’s mother didn’t seem to know him. She barely glanced at him before she hunkered down beside her son.

“You were supposed to tell me if you were going somewhere, Noah.”

Rick immediately understood that the harshness he heard in her voice came from the fear still lingering in her eyes. A mental image of her—younger, without the worry, carefree and happy—flashed through his head.

Where did that come from?

“S-sorry, Mom,” Noah muttered. He didn’t sound sorry.

“Noah didn’t want to wake you so he moved over here. We’ve been chatting to pass the time.” He thrust out a hand. “I’m Rick Salinger.”

Instantly a barrier went up in her cocoa-toned eyes. After several moments’ hesitation she slid her small hand into his for about half a second then immediately pulled it away.

“Cassie Crockett,” she said with her chin thrust forward. “I’m sorry Noah bothered you.”

“He didn’t— Just the opposite, actually. Did you know your son is a cardshark?” Rick was certain he’d never met anyone named Cassie Crockett so he couldn’t possibly know her, and yet that face...

Rick regrouped and grinned at Noah. “He beat me in six straight games of hearts.”

“I’ve been there.” A smile flickered at the corner of her lips. “Humbling, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Rick agreed, wanting to see what a real smile looked like on Cassie Crockett. “But I was glad to have someone to talk to. Seventeen hours from Thompson to Churchill makes for a long ride, even if this part of northern Canada is the best of God’s creation.” He paused then asked, “Have we met before?”

“No.” Short and succinct, her answer flew out almost before he’d finished asking the question.

“I don’t mean to push it, but you seem very familiar to me,” he said.

“I assure you, I have never seen you before.” She held his gaze, dark brown sparks in her eyes defiant.

“I’m h-hungry, Mom.” Noah looked at Rick, and seemed to sense an ally. “I b-bet Pastor Rick is hungry, t-too. We want b-breakfast.”

“Pastor?” Cassie’s voice squeaked. Her heart-shaped face paled as her eyes narrowed.

“H-he’s a minister in C-Churchill.” Noah seemed either unaware of or unconcerned about his mother’s reaction.

“I am.” Rick sensed that a change of subject would be helpful. “They serve a passable breakfast on board, Mrs. Crockett.” He smiled again, hoping to allay whatever fears made her tense. “I could show you the way.”

“That’s okay,” she said, her voice colder than before. “We’re not ready yet.”

“I’m r-ready, Mom,” Noah contradicted.

“We have to clean up first.” Cassie’s brow furrowed as she studied her son. “Your hair needs combing.”

“Then c-can we have breakfast with P-pastor Rick?”

Noah’s blue eyes begged her, but Cassie seemed to be searching for an excuse not to join him, so Rick gave her an out.

“Maybe I’ll see you there.” He grinned at Noah. “It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the card game.”

“It was n-nice m-meeting you, too,” Noah responded. “T-thanks for telling m-me about Churchill. If we g-go to a r-restaurant, I’m g-going to order c-c-caribou.”

“Good. But if anyone offers you muktuk, make sure it’s fresh.” Rick hid his smile and waited for the inevitable question.

“Wh-why?”

“Whale skin and blubber are best eaten fresh.” Rick chuckled at Noah’s dismayed look. “It’s actually not bad when you get used to it.” Then he nodded at Cassie. “Excuse me.”

Apparently Cassie hadn’t realized she was blocking his way. Her cheeks flamed bright pink as she stepped out of the way and beckoned to Noah to follow.

Rick tried not to hear their discussion as he waited for another passenger to move out of the aisle, but it was difficult not to eavesdrop.

“Why d-didn’t we go with Pastor R-rick, Mom? I’m s-starving.” Noah’s stutter seemed to worsen with his temper. “I w-want to g-go n-now.”

“Noah, behave.” Cassie sounded irritated. “We’ll go for breakfast soon, but not if you’re going to make a fuss. That is not how a Crockett behaves,” she said softly, almost too softly for Rick to hear.

“Mrs. P-Perkins said all C-crocketts behave b-badly,” Noah muttered in a sullen tone.

“Mrs. Perkins was wrong.” Cassie sounded desperate to shush her son.

“Th-that’s what she said about y-you,” Noah retorted. “Sh-she said you m-made the b-b-biggest mistake of your l-life.”

Able to finally move forward to the dining car, Rick couldn’t hear Cassie’s response. Noah’s words had raised a thousand questions in his mind—but first and foremost was this: Why, when she’d learned his profession, had she shrunk away from him as if he had the plague?

That question was quickly followed by another: Why did her offended look bother him so much?

In the dining car, Ned Blenkins stood waiting to take his order.

“Nice to see you again, Preacher. Same as usual?” Ned asked with his cheery smile.

“Yes, please.” Rick accepted a cup of coffee.

“Won’t take a minute,” Ned promised.

Rick carried his steaming cup to the only empty table. Though most of the other passengers had finished their meals and now lingered over coffee, no one invited him to join them. He took a seat, reminding himself that eating alone didn’t bother him. He deserved a lot worse than a solitary breakfast, he thought with a pang of fresh guilt.

Rick had seen most of the other people in the dining car around Churchill, though not in his church. He knew each member of his small congregation personally, and he suspected they all knew about his ugly past. In a small town like Churchill there were few secrets.

He’d been very honest in telling the hiring committee how he’d lost every dime of his own and that of every client who’d trusted him. He’d also told them how he’d found God, and of his vow to serve Him in an effort to rectify the wrongs he’d done. Though none of his parishioners had ever confronted him about it, Rick figured it was the reason why he hadn’t attracted any new parishioners. Who wanted to attend the church of a man who’d caused such harm?

As he waited for his breakfast, Rick glanced at the paper his neighbor was reading. His heart took a nosedive when he saw the headline of a small piece in the bottom right corner—“Local couple loses bid to sue publisher for risky book on investing.”

“Not again,” his soul cried.

He grabbed the paper off his own table and read the entire section. The leaden weight in his stomach grew as he read about a young couple desperate to have children. They needed money for fertility procedures. Now they were homeless because they’d mortgaged their house and sold everything they owned to invest their money after they’d read a book called Untold Riches in the Stock Market. Rick had written the book under the same pseudonym the publisher had used for six other how-to books in the same series. It was doubtful his authorship would ever be made public because Rick had signed a confidentiality agreement. But that didn’t ease any of his guilt.

Almost five years later and there were still ramifications. Worse, he was powerless to stop it.

He read that the court ruled that though the book offered risky—perhaps even foolhardy—advice, the advice was not illegal and the lawsuit had been dismissed.

Oh Lord, he prayed silently. How can I ever atone for all the pain my greed has caused?

Overwhelmed by guilt, Rick had promised God that last day at the seminary that he’d give up his most precious dream—he’d clung to it all through the years he’d scrabbled to stay alive on the streets of Toronto—the dream of having a home and a family. Those two things were all he’d ever wanted—a place to call his own, and people who loved and cared for him.

It had cost Rick dearly to sacrifice that dream, but every time he learned of someone else who’d suffered because of him, he renewed his vow. It was his way of showing God he was worthy of His love.

But was he?

Defeat nagged at Rick as he thought about the eight months he’d been ministering in Churchill. By most measures, the lack of new members in his church probably meant he was a failure as a minister. But he’d promised God he’d serve where he was placed and for now, that place was Churchill. All he could do was his best until God sent him somewhere else.

“Eggs over easy with bacon.” Ned set the loaded plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Ned.” Rick palmed him a generous tip.

He’d barely lifted his head from saying grace when the door burst open and Noah stalked in, followed by Cassie. She quickly realized there was no empty table and frowned. Her brown eyes narrowed as she endured curious stares.

“Come and join me,” Rick invited, rising. Noah didn’t even glance at his mother for permission before he strode over. Cassie followed more slowly.

“We don’t want to bother you,” she said.

“You’re not,” he assured her. “You’re welcome here.”

Cassie hesitated.

“Come on, Mom. I’m s-starving.”

Cassie ignored Noah, her gaze locked on Rick. She studied him for what seemed like ages before she inclined her head in an almost imperceptible nod.

“Thank you. We’d like to join you.” She laid a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “On a scale of one to ten, how hungry are you?”

“F-fourteen.” Noah slouched on the chair beside Rick as Cassie turned to place their order. His eyes widened at the sight of Rick’s plate. “F-four eggs?”

“I guess I’m an eighteen on your scale.” Rick laughed at Noah’s surprise but his gaze was already back on Cassie as she made her way toward Ned. He could still smell her fragrance. Whatever it was, it suited her. Soft, very feminine with a hint of spice. Feisty.

You’re thinking about this woman entirely too much. Do not get involved.

“W-won’t you get f-fat?” the boy asked, his forehead pleated in a frown.

“I hope not.” Rick hid his smile. After reading that article he was no longer hungry. He offered Noah the plate with the extra toast he’d ordered. Noah selected one half slice.

“Mrs. P-Perkins said my m-mom is f-fat,” he muttered.

“No offense, but I think Mrs. Perkins, whoever she is, must need glasses.” Rick smiled. “Your mom is beautiful,” he added.

“I g-guess s-so.” Silence reigned as Noah devoured his toast.

Cassie returned a few moments later with two glasses of juice and a cup of coffee. She raised one eyebrow at Noah when he reached for a second slice of Rick’s toast but said nothing as she set the juice in front of him.

“Th-that’s it?” Noah demanded. He looked at Rick sadly. “M-maybe I’m f-fat.”

When Cassie chuckled, Rick focused on her face. Again he tried to recall where and when he’d seen her before, but, truthfully, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that here was a kid who’d lost his dad and a woman who’d lost her husband, and there was something wrong between them. Maybe he could help. Maybe, if he could, he would find a measure of peace.

Churchill was his proving ground. If he couldn’t do God’s work here—if he couldn’t help this community or kids like Noah—what good was he? And if his ministry failed, how could he ever earn forgiveness? Failure in Churchill meant it was doubtful another church would give him a chance.

God, I came here to make amends. Please help me do that for these hurting hearts.

But even if Rick could help this mother and son, he knew he’d never earn redemption.

* * *

“They have to cook your breakfast, Noah. It’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Cassie sat, her brow furrowing as she leaned near Noah’s ear. “Please stop repeating things Mrs. Perkins said. I know she was angry. A lot of church members were. But most of what she said isn’t true.”

“Wh-which part is t-true?” Noah asked in a sour tone.

Cassie gave him a chiding look. She sipped her coffee and worked hard to look anywhere but at Rick. That green-eyed stare of his saw too much.

“Are you two visiting Churchill for long?” Rick smiled.

“We’re n-not v-visiting.” Noah eyed Rick’s remaining slice of toast. Rick nodded. “M-my mom’s going to work at l-luck.”

Noah’s struggle to get the word out pierced Cassie’s heart. The pain doubled when Noah noticed the other patrons’ stares and ducked his head in shame.

“Luck?” Rick shook his head. “I don’t think I know it.”

“Lives Under Construction—LUC. It’s a rehabilitation facility where troubled boys are sent to serve their time in the justice system. We shortened it,” Cassie explained.

“Very clever. And I am very familiar with Lives—that’s the shortened form we use here.” He smiled at Noah’s wide eyes when Ned set a loaded platter in front of him. “Here’s your breakfast.”

“N-not s-sure if I’m th-that hungry, Mom,” the boy said.

“I thought we could share, especially since you ate Mr., uh, Pastor—his toast.” Cassie felt her cheeks heat up. Why did this man fluster her? “I’m sorry but I don’t know what to call you.”

“Rick will do just fine.”

“Rick it is.” Cassie accepted an empty plate from Ned with a smile of thanks. She liberated an egg, a slice of toast and one strip of bacon from Noah’s plate.

“Mrs. Crockett, are you the nurse Laurel’s been expecting?” Rick’s green eyes flared with surprise.

“Yes.” Cassie added no other information. She figured his surprise now equaled hers, when she’d found out he was a minister. With his short, spiky dark hair, day-old chin stubble and that easy grin that embraced everyone, Rick looked nothing like the ministers she knew. “How did you know?”

“Laurel told me she’d hired someone.” Rick must have understood the question on her face because he added, “Laurel Quinn and I are good friends. I go to Lives Under Construction a lot to work with the boys.”

“Oh. Then you probably also know she has three clients with special needs arriving. The government insists she have a medical person on the premises to monitor their care.” Cassie tasted her bacon and toast before continuing. “I’m also hoping to work a few shifts at the hospital while the boys are in school.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue. The health center can always use more help and the Inuit Transient Center will welcome you with open arms.” Rick’s attention slid to Noah who, having cleaned his plate leaned back in his chair. Rick smiled.

“Something about my job amuses you?” Hearing the belligerence in her voice, Cassie wished she’d controlled it. But she’d endured mockery once too often recently from people who claimed to be her friends and then doubted her.

“No, ma’am. Something about him amuses me.”

Rick chuckled when Noah drained his juice glass and smacked his lips. “Feel better?”

“Much.” Noah grinned.

Cassie’s heart brimmed with adoration for this child of hers. Noah, twelve, had suffered deeply and dealt with so much since Eric’s death. She’d made this move to Churchill hoping to restore the fun-loving kid he’d been before his father’s death and the two years of misery that had followed.

Cassie suddenly noticed Rick studying Noah with an odd look. Was that longing in his forest-green eyes? As she wondered if he had any children of his own, a hundred questions about Rick Salinger suddenly swarmed her.

You can’t trust him, she thought. You trusted Eric and your father and they weren’t there for you. Eric never even confided in you about losing those church funds. And then he was too proud to face his mistakes. You’ve paid for that a hundred times over and so has Noah. Now it’s time to get on with your lives. Alone.

Cassie shut off the painful reminders. “Are there many churches in Churchill?” she asked.

Rick blinked and the shadows in his eyes dissipated.

“Four at the moment. Mine is the smallest.”

“Because?” She chewed on a slice of toast while she waited for his answer.

“That’s hard to say.” He frowned. “It’s either because I’m not very good at my job or because I’m not giving the kind of message people want to hear.” He shrugged. “I’ll leave it to you to decide, Cassie.”

So different than her father. He would have insisted it wasn’t his fault, that people were too hard-hearted to hear the truth. She liked that Rick took responsibility.

“I’m sure folks will come around in time,” she murmured.

“I hope so, but that’s God’s job.” He smiled, clearly comfortable in his skin. That also made a positive impression on Cassie. Too many people were out to impress and didn’t care who they hurt in the process. That’s why she’d stopped trusting.

That’s why she’d come to Churchill.

“W-will we go to P-pastor Rick’s c-church, Mom?” Noah asked.

“We’ll see.” The age-old parental response her father had always given seemed to fit. When she glanced up, she found Rick’s attention on her again. From the speculative way he studied her, she thought he knew that he wouldn’t be seeing them in his pews anytime soon.

“W-we haven’t gone to ch-church for a long t-time,” Noah mused, staring out the window. His forehead pleated in a frown of distaste as he glanced back at Rick. “My g-grandfather y-yells.”

“Some preachers do,” Rick agreed in a mild tone.

Cassie liked that Rick didn’t prod Noah for more information. In fact, there was a lot about this man that she was beginning to like, and that made her nervous.

“My father is—was—a minister. He’s retired now.” She winced at her tone. A man like Rick, attuned to people’s nuances, would realize she disliked mentioning him.

“I see.” Rick grinned at Noah. “Don’t worry, Noah. I don’t yell in church. I mostly just talk. You’re welcome to come anytime.” He checked his watch then rose. “Will you excuse me? I’ve got some reading to do before we arrive.”

Noah’s blue eyes sparkled. “I c-can hardly w-wait to see Aunt L-Laurel.”

“I didn’t realize you were related.” Rick’s curious gaze turned on Cassie.

“Laurel and I met years ago in Toronto when I worked in pediatrics,” Cassie explained. “She brought in clients from time to time and we became friends. Noah was very young then. He sort of adopted her. We’ve kept in touch over the years. I guess that’s why she thought of me when she needed help with Lives.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a great asset, Cassie. We can use all the help we can get to reach Laurel’s boys.”

Cassie searched Rick’s face. We. That meant they’d be working together. Would he judge her, too, when he found out about Eric? As she stood, she looked around at the Christmas decorations still hanging in the dining car. “It seems funny that there are only three days till New Year’s Eve.”

“Churchill’s New Year’s Eve is fantastic,” Rick said.

“Wh-why?” Noah demanded.

“You’ll have to go to find out. But I will tell you this—it’s a town-wide party with amazing fireworks.”

Rick gestured for them to precede him out of the dining car. Cassie felt stares as they walked toward their seats. She automatically smoothed a hand over her hip, then stopped herself. Her jeans were years out of date and her leather boots had seen far better days, but why should she care what Rick or anyone else thought about her?

She took a look around and saw that most of her fellow passengers, including Rick, looked as though they chose function over fashion.

They’re not judging you, Cassie.

As she and Noah reached their seats, she glanced back and saw Rick joking with a woman nearby as he pulled a duffel bag from the overhead rack. He hadn’t said anything about a wife or kids and he didn’t wear a ring, but Cassie felt certain that a man with Rick’s looks wasn’t single unless he wanted it that way. He was too charming for it to be otherwise.

And nice, her brain prodded. Rick was definitely nice.

Cassie took a seat and closed her eyes. Pastor Rick Salinger was a mystery all right, but not one Cassie was going to explore. After the mess Eric had left her in and the condemnation of her church family, she just wanted to keep things as simple as possible. She would do her job and build a new life at Lives Under Construction. If she failed to get Noah straightened out here—well, she couldn’t fail, that was all. Churchill was her last resort.

An ache tore through Cassie as she studied Noah. Since Eric’s death Noah had been acting out. He’d been disciplined at school for his bad behavior and she’d tried to discipline him at home. Neither had worked. He’d progressively become more of an opponent than the son she adored.

She had to get him to change the path he was on, to let go of the brooding anger inside before he did something she couldn’t fix.

Her gaze roamed the train until it rested on Rick. Rick said he helped the boys at Lives. Maybe he could—she didn’t dare let herself think it.

Cassie Crockett had learned the hard way that you couldn’t trust anyone.

It was a lesson she’d never forget.


Chapter Two

The weight of Cassie’s decision hit when she opened her eyes an hour later and got her first view of Churchill.

She was alone, a single mom with a troubled kid to support in a cold, barren land where she had just one friend, Laurel. Had moving here been the right decision?

The train jerked. They were slowing down.

It didn’t matter now if the decision was right or wrong. It had been made.

“We’re here, M-Mom,” Noah said. For the first time in many months a hint of excitement colored his voice.

The tired old train ground to a stop with much squeaking of brakes. Noah jumped to his feet. Cassie reached up to heft her overnight case from the storage compartment above. A hand slid over hers where it grasped the suitcase handle.

“Yes, Noah. I’m hurrying—”

The words died away when she turned and stared into Rick’s dark green gaze.

“Let me help you with this.”

Odd how his quiet offer made her feel as if she wasn’t quite so alone.

Cassie nodded, swallowing when his warm fingers eased the handle from her hands, lifted the bag free and shifted it so it would roll forward. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His low response, for her ears alone, made her feel cared for. She liked that.

You have no business liking anything about Rick, she scolded herself.

But the scolding didn’t seem to stop her from appreciating the tall, lean man. A slanted smile played on his too-handsome face, warming her like a ray of sunshine. His easy manner made her drop her guard, feel comfortable. The pull of attraction toward him was like nothing she’d known before. She searched his eyes, trying to understand the connection she felt, ignoring the flutter in her stomach when he met her gaze.

“I appreciate your entertaining Noah during the ride,” she said as they waited to disembark.

“He’s a great kid.” The pastor took her arm to help her as they stepped outside, grinning at Noah’s astonished reaction to mountainous snowdrifts that dazzled in the brilliant morning sun. “Welcome to Churchill.”

As they moved away from the crowd and down the platform, Rick stayed by her side, matching his strides to her shorter ones, rolling her case along as if it were a feather. He had the long, lean grace of a distance runner. Though Cassie noticed the many admiring stares he received, Rick didn’t seem to. He smiled and greeted people, totally at ease.

By contrast, Noah stood aloof, surveying the area with a wariness Cassie wished she could help him shed. But how? Noah argued with her constantly over the least little thing. Nothing Cassie had tried seemed to help reduce the stutter that had appeared several months earlier. Not even prayer.

“Noah could go inside to stay warm,” Rick told her. “But it’s better if you wait here for the opening of the container car to ensure all your stuff has arrived. If it doesn’t, you have to make a claim right away. You do have more than this?” he asked, indicating her suitcase.

“Oh, yes.” Cassie nodded. “We have more.”

Laurel had explained to Cassie that she should bring as much as she could and take advantage of the railway’s free transportation of patrons’ goods because shipping in everyday things could make living in the North Country very expensive.

As Cassie looked around at the vast glistening beauty of the isolated land, she decided the expense of living so far north was worth it when she would be able to savor this view every day. Maybe she hadn’t made a mistake coming here. Maybe life for her and Noah was finally going to get better.

She shifted from one foot to the other, glad of her coat’s thick insulation, as endless pallets of bulky paper items were off-loaded followed by boxes and trunks of all descriptions. As Rick retrieved the items she pointed out, Cassie became conscious of odd looks, the kind that said the onlookers suspected they were a couple. She stepped away from him to create some distance as she counted her containers.

“Everything is here,” she said.

“Good. And there are my snowshoes.” Rick strode forward and picked up a mesh bag.

“Do you like to snowshoe?” Cassie asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried yet. I bought these at a thrift store in Thompson.” He chuckled at her dubious look. “My friend Kyle—he works at Lives, too—promised to teach me.” He swung the bag over his shoulder only to set it down again when his cell phone rang. “Excuse me.”

He looked at the caller ID, grinned at Cassie and put the phone on speaker.

“Rick? This is Laurel. I’m sorry to bother you but my van conked out.” Though Laurel’s frustration carried clearly in the crisp air, Cassie felt a measure of relief at hearing her friend’s voice. “I’m at the garage and they say it has to stay overnight.”

“But you’re supposed to pick up your new nurse and her son,” Rick guessed with a wink at Cassie. She couldn’t help smiling back. There was something about his irrepressible good humor that drew her in.

“Yes, that’s why I’m calling. I wondered if you might be able to give us all a ride back to Lives.”

“I can because, fortunately for you, I left the block heater on my car engine plugged in while I was in Thompson,” Rick said. “It should start without any trouble.”

Cassie tracked his gaze to the thermometer on the side of the depot—minus twenty-eight degrees Celsius. No wonder she was shivering.

“I’ll have to walk home to get it, though,” Rick continued. “You’re still at the garage, right? Why don’t you stay put until I can pick you up?”

“I just collected one of the boys. How about if we meet you at the station? But before you leave could you find Cassie Crockett and her son and ask them to wait? She’s blond, short curly hair—”

“I’ve already met her and Noah. In fact, Cassie’s standing beside me.”

“Hi, Laurel,” Cassie called.

“Cassie! I can’t wait to see you! We’ll be there soon. Thanks, Rick.”

“No worries, Laurel. See you in a bit.” Rick tucked his phone back in his pocket. “You’d better wait inside until I get back.” He blinked at the number of boxes and containers on the dock. “Where’s the kitchen sink?” he teased.

“We—um, sold our house so we had to bring most of what was left,” she explained.

Rick nodded, seeming to sense her discomfort. He hailed a man and introduced Cassie and Noah. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to use your truck to transport Mrs. Crockett’s things to Lives Under Construction, George.”

“Happy to, Pastor, but it might take a second trip. Lucy Clow’s got me picking up a bunch of stuff she bought online.”

“Again? Wonder what deals she found this time.” Rick shared a grin of understanding with the other man then told Cassie, “Lucy’s infamous for her online purchases, which she always donates to something in town. Will picking up your stuff later work for you, Cassie?”

“Later is perfect.” Cassie noted the obvious affection between Rick and the older man. “Thank you, Mr. Stern.”

“Cassie’s going to be the new nurse at Lives Under Construction, George. She’s also hoping for some part-time work at the health center.” Rick gave her a small nod, as if to say, Wait for it.

“Well isn’t that a blessing?” George beamed. “Our health board has been trying to find another nurse for ages. You’ve got work whenever you want, Miss.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stern.” Breathless at the speed with which she’d found a second job, Cassie turned to Rick as George left. “Thank you for doing that.”

“My pleasure.” He checked his watch. “My place is about three blocks away. I’ll have to let the car warm up so it’ll be a while before I return. But Laurel should be here shortly. You and Noah can wait inside.” Rick slid his hand under her elbow and steered her into the station. Noah followed without saying anything.

The peremptory way Rick directed her without waiting for her agreement triggered her dislike of being controlled. A host of memories of Eric’s constant advice and bossy ways filled her head. Eric had seemed to believe she was unable to think for herself. He’d always tried to steer her, literally, and she’d always hated that.

Cassie jerked her arm free once they were inside the depot. “I could have arranged things for myself,” she heard herself saying. “You didn’t have to ask a stranger—”

“There aren’t any strangers in Churchill, Mrs. Crockett,” Rick interrupted in a gentle tone. “Up here we try to help each other because we might be the next in need.”

“Of course,” she whispered, contrite that she’d allowed her past to cause her to behave rudely. “I apologize. Thank you for everything. And please, Rick, call me Cassie.” She forced herself to offer a tiny smile. “Noah and I will wait for you over there.” She pointed to a bench in the corner.

Rick’s good-natured grin returned. He pulled a pair of knitted gloves from his pocket and put them on. “See you in a bit.” Swinging his snowshoes onto his shoulder, Rick picked up his duffel and headed out of the station, toward the street that lay beyond the parking lot, obviously enjoying the brisk air.

Cassie glanced at Noah. Eyes closed, earbuds firmly in place, he swayed back and forth to his music, in his own world. She’d leave him alone, for now, but soon she’d have to find a way to get him to break free of his self-imposed isolation.

Her attention returned to the window and the minister who strode across the white-covered terrain. Rick Salinger unnerved her. Not only because of what he said or did but also because of who he was—a minister, like her father.

That was a very big hurdle in her book.

He’s also straightforward, full of life and interesting.

All the same, Cassie was determined to keep her distance. No matter how much Rick piqued her interest.

* * *

As Rick sauntered back into the train station more than half an hour later, his brain was still struggling to put together a puzzle called Cassie Crockett. One minute she was standoffish and defensive, the next her barriers dropped away and she was warm and engaging. Was that only with him?

And why did he still feel as if he’d met her before?

Cassie sat in the corner where she’d said she’d be, but this was a totally different woman from the one who’d yanked her arm from his grip. She was laughing at something Laurel said, blond head thrown back, eyes dancing. For the first time since he’d met her, Rick thought she looked truly at ease.

“So you met Rick,” he heard Laurel say.

“Yes.” Cassie’s low voice gave nothing away. Though her eyes widened when she saw him, her glance bounced off him, keeping his presence secret.

“He’s a great guy and an even better pastor,” Laurel said. Rick listened unabashedly while she spent several moments extolling his virtues. “You’ll never make a better friend than Rick.”

“Well, thank you, Laurel. I love you, too.” Rick grinned when the older woman squealed in surprise, turned and then hugged him, ruffling his hair.

Rick basked in the feeling of being cared for. Since a wife and family were never going to be part of his future, he cherished every friendship God brought into his life.

“It’s good to have you back, pal.” Laurel patted his shoulder.

“Thanks. Who’s this?” he asked, nodding at a boy who, like Noah, sat with earphones in his ears, swaying to music no one else could hear.

“This is Bryan.” Laurel nudged the boy’s shoulder.

In a desultory fashion, Bryan withdrew one headphone. “Yeah?”

“This is Rick, our pastor,” Laurel said.

“Dude.” Bryan slowly lifted his hand to shake Rick’s. His grip was weak, his palms sweaty. Duty done, he immediately replaced his earphone and closed his eyes.

“I’m overwhelmed by my welcome,” Rick joked.

“You got a better reception than I did,” Cassie complained.

“If he ignored a beautiful woman like you, I don’t feel so bad.” Surprised he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, Rick glanced at Laurel. The smug smile on her face bothered him, but Rick ignored it. He leaned nearer Cassie. “We’ll have to show him that we demand proper respect,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink. Then he turned to Laurel. “On my way in I noticed George has already picked up Cassie’s things from the dock so I’m ready to leave here whenever you are.”

Noah and Bryan picked up some of the luggage. Rick took the rest. Somehow everything fit inside his small car. Laurel insisted Cassie take the front seat beside him so she’d have a better view of her new home, but Rick noticed Cassie sat just about as far away from his as she could.

“We’re off,” he said as he fastened his seat belt. He left the parking lot and turned the corner to the highway, noticing Cassie’s tight grip on her armrest when the tires slipped on a patch of ice before the treads caught.

“All this ice—” She made a quick glance over one shoulder at Noah.

“It’s okay, Cassie.” He smiled to reassure her. “Josephina will get us there safely. She isn’t the prettiest vehicle around, but she almost always gets where she’s going.”

“Josephina?” she said. One perfect eyebrow arched. “Why not Joseph?”

“Joseph was a truck, my last vehicle.” Rick made sad face. “He wasn’t reliable at all.”

“We won’t go there, then,” she said. The amusement on her face sent an unexpected quiver through him.

His brain instantly shot out warnings, reminding him to avoid entanglements. He was here to atone for his past, not get involved. That thought brought a tiny flicker of sadness that he fought to ignore.

“I promise you’ll arrive in one piece,” he said, noting her grip hadn’t eased.

“But which piece?” Cassie teased in a tight voice. Once they were on the highway, she seemed to relax. “Just before Christmas I was in a fender bender in Toronto on very slick roads. I guess I’m still a bit skittish.”

“We’ll be there soon,” he assured her.

Cassie glanced his way, her head tipped to one side. “Do you ever have doubts about anything, Rick?”

The question made him blink as memories from a host of very bad days from his past made him wince.

“You have no idea,” he muttered as guilt rolled in.

Cassie studied him, a tiny frown marring her beauty. After that she remained silent until they reached Lives. Rick didn’t mind. Her question had sobered him.

“We’re home,” he said as he turned off the motor.

“Finally.” Bryan quickly unfolded himself from the backseat.

“A tall guy like you, you’ll be glad Laurel has a van.” Rick watched him stretch. Something about the kid didn’t seem right. When Bryan headed for the house, Rick called him back.

“Your bag?” he reminded.

“What, no bell boys?” Bryan attempted a laugh but it fell short. He swiped a hand across his face to remove a sheen of sweat, which was odd given the frosty temperature.

Rick also noticed that Bryan’s hand shook when he reached for the suitcase handle. The boy seemed confused as he struggled to maneuver his way to the door. Several times he veered off the pathway into the snow. Concerned by Bryan’s unsteadiness, Rick moved to assist him. He arrived just in time to catch Bryan as he slumped.

“Cassie!” Rick yelled. She was there in a second with Laurel.

“Bryan’s just been diagnosed with diabetes,” Laurel said.

“Get him inside and lay him on the floor,” Cassie ordered after a quick look. “Laurel, we’ll need some orange juice or something sweet.”

Totally out of his depth, Rick appreciated Cassie’s orders. He carried Bryan inside then propped up the boy’s head as Cassie dribbled some orange juice in his mouth.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“I’m guessing his blood sugar’s too low.” Concern darkened Cassie’s eyes as she monitored the boy’s pulse and checked his pupils. “Bryan, when did you last test?” she asked loudly when his eyelids fluttered.

“Didn’t.” His head lolled into unconsciousness.

Cassie hissed out a sigh of frustration. She looked at Rick. “Can you go through his suitcase and find a small case? It would have test strips, syringes and a vial in it.”

Rick did as she asked. When he found the container, he unzipped it and held it open in his palm so she could easily get what she needed.

“Thanks.” With precise movements Cassie pricked Bryan’s finger and swiped it over a test strip, which she then stuck into the small monitor. She grimaced at the reading, measured out the correct dose from the vial and injected it into Bryan’s stomach. After a quick glance at Noah who stood watching, she offered him a smile then returned to monitoring her patient.

Rick noted the tender hand Cassie swept across Bryan’s forehead and the kindhearted words she spoke. To anyone watching, Bryan might have been her own child.

“Why didn’t he inject himself?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed.

“The doctor’s report says he’s struggling to accept his illness.” Laurel stood beside Noah, watching.

“A lot of kids do,” Cassie explained. “They think that if they ignore it, it will go away.” She looked at Rick, grim certainty in her eyes. “It won’t go away. Bryan’s got to learn to handle his diabetes or it will kill him.”

“Then we’ll help him do that,” Rick assured her.

Cassie gave him a funny look before she turned her attention to Bryan once more.

“Okay, he’s coming around. Laurel, could you bring a wet cloth? Can you help him sit, Rick?”

“Sure.” He slid his arm around Bryan’s back and eased him upright. “Take it easy, big guy.” When Bryan’s bleary gaze met his, he teased, “Is this any way to begin your first day here? Forgetting to take your medication?”

“I didn’t forget,” Bryan said, slurring his words a bit, but fully aware.

“You must have forgotten,” Rick told him in a serious tone. “Because deliberately not taking it sounds dumb, and I don’t think you’re dumb.” He sounded more confident than he felt, and he prayed that God would use his words to help Bryan. “Diabetes is not a death sentence.”

“It feels like one to me.” Bryan accepted Rick’s hand to pull himself upright. He wavered a bit before plopping on a kitchen chair.

“Diabetes isn’t the end of your life, Bryan.” Rick sat across from him. “In fact, it could be the start of a new life for you, a new beginning here at Lives Under Construction.”

Bryan glanced at Laurel and Cassie as if to ask if Rick was serious. But after a moment his gaze returned to Rick, who caught a flicker of curiosity under the boy’s tough attitude.

“New start?” the boy demanded. “How?”

“Well, think about it. Nobody here knows you or what you did before you came here. You’ve got a chance to begin a new year with a clean slate.” One glance at Cassie’s serious face told Rick he had to make his words count. “Managing your diabetes can be your first step to making your future into whatever you want.”

“You make it sound easy,” Bryan muttered.

“Oh, no, I didn’t say that. But nobody but you can decide your future, Bryan.” Rick paused to let that sink in. “You have to choose if you’ll waste the opportunity you’ve been given at a new life, or accept the challenge and use this time to figure out how to build yourself a better world.”

Bryan snorted. “I never heard anyone claim going to juvie was getting a break.”

“Well, then, let me be the first to offer you a new perspective. Besides, this is not juvenile detention. It’s where lives are under construction, on the way to being changed.” Rick held his breath, waiting for the boy to decide.

Bryan studied him for a long time, his eyes searching. Rick could tell that he was at least thinking about what he’d heard.

“You should rest for a while, Bryan,” Cassie said.

“Yeah. I feel tired. The plane was bumpy. The guy guarding me got sick.” He pushed to his feet and followed Laurel to the room he’d been assigned.

Rick rubbed a hand across his face, silently praising God for His help.

“How did you know to do that?”

Rick blinked. Cassie stood in front of him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Do what?”

“Talk to him like that, get him to face his issues and see them from a new perspective.” She frowned. “You convinced Bryan he could start over. I think maybe you got through to him. How?”

Shifting under her intense stare, Rick knew there was more to her question than simple curiosity. He glanced around, saw Noah seated in a corner with the luggage, earbuds back in place.

“I prayed for the right words, Cassie. If they hit home it was because God used them, as He used you,” he added.

“Me?” she said, almost rearing back in surprise.

“You treated Bryan as if he were Noah,” he said softly. “You cared for him with love and tenderness. He felt that. All I did was try to help him see that not everything in his life is bad. There is good in the world if he’ll only drop his defenses and accept it.”

“But the words you used—” Her voice trailed away.

“Lives Under Construction is a new beginning for Bryan,” Rick reminded her. “He’s away from whatever circumstances got him into this situation. He can start over, if he wants to. It’s the same for you and Noah, isn’t it? It doesn’t really matter what brought you here. What matters is what you do with this opportunity.”

She studied him until they heard the sound of footsteps in the hall.

“Rick, you’re home,” a warm voice said. A slim, obviously pregnant woman embraced him, then turned to Cassie. “I’m Sara Loness,” she said stretching out a hand. “I’m the head cook. Welcome to Lives.”

“Thank you. I’m Cassie Crockett.” Cassie shook Sara’s hand then nudged Noah who finally rose. “This is my son, Noah.”

After Sara greeted Noah, Rick explained what had just happened.

“Poor Bryan. I’ll make sure supper doesn’t have a lot of sugar,” Sara assured him.

“And you should probably keep those away from him,” Rick said, eyeing the platter of cinnamon buns on the counter. “But not from me.”

“Why is it some people can eat whatever they want and never gain an ounce?” Sara smiled at Cassie. “I made extras,” she said to Rick as she set plates and forks on the table.

“Thanks.” Rick nudged Noah to the table then held Cassie’s chair. Rick took note of the fact that Cassie startled a bit when his hand accidentally brushed her shoulder.

“I thought I saw a skating rink outside,” Cassie said, her voice betraying nothing.

“Sara’s husband, Kyle, made it. He’s just coming in.” Rick waited until his friend entered the kitchen. Then he introduced Cassie and her son. “Kyle’s the activities director at Lives. He and I are teaching the kids hockey. It fosters cooperation, patience, a whole host of things.” Rick suddenly felt restless under Cassie’s scrutiny, as if he was being assessed for something, though he couldn’t imagine what.

“Want to join us?” Kyle asked Noah.

“I n-never p-played hockey,” Noah muttered.

“Between Rick and Kyle, who are the biggest hockey addicts in the world, you’ll soon learn,” Sara teased. “Do you like milk with your cinnamon buns?” Noah’s eager nod made her laugh. “So does Kyle. What about your mom?”

“Sh-she’s on a d-diet so s-she won’t g-get f-fat.” Noah actually grinned when the others burst into laughter.

“Noah Crockett! I am not.” Cassie flushed a rich red.

“Bad mistake, Noah, my man,” Rick told him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Let me give you some advice. Never mention the words fat or diet in the presence of a woman.” He leaned over and whispered very loudly, “It makes them grumpy.”

Cassie and Sara shared a look.

“Here come the rest of the boys,” Sara said. “They were at a sledding party.”

When the current residents trooped into the kitchen, Sara introduced Cassie and Noah. “These fine fellows are Barry, Rod and Peter,” she said. “Michael and Daniel won’t arrive until tomorrow and Bryan is upstairs with Laurel,” she explained to the boys. “He’s not feeling well. I suppose you’re not hungry in the slightest after the sledding party.”

As one they began to protest.

Sara grinned. “Yeah, dumb question. After you wash you can join us.”

As they rushed to comply, Kyle left to answer the phone. Rick noted Noah hadn’t engaged any of the other boys, simply nodding at the introduction and returning to his music.

Rick knew why. That stutter was going to cause problems.

The first time he’d spoken to Noah he’d felt a familiar nudge in his heart. Experience told him that was God’s prodding and it meant he was to help Noah. But how?

A moment later he had his answer.

When Sara disappeared inside the walk-in cooler leaving them alone, Rick decided to sound out Cassie while her son was still involved in his music, before the others returned.

“Noah told me his dad killed himself,” he murmured. “That must have been very hard for you.”

Her whole body dropped as if he’d settled a weight on her shoulders. Silence stretched between them. Finally Cassie spoke.

“Very hard, but harder on Noah, I think.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help,” he offered.

It was obvious Cassie struggled to accept his offer. But after a long moment, she nodded.

“There might be.”

“Just name it,” he said.

“Would you be able to talk to Noah the same way you talked to Bryan?” Cassie asked in a hushed voice. “He’s been hurting, trying to understand why his father would do that. I can’t seem to reach him. But you might, the way you did with Bryan.”

Rick’s heart swelled with compassion for this mother’s hurting heart.

“Please?” she whispered.

“I don’t know that it will make any difference, Cassie, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help Noah,” Rick said, just before the other boys burst into the kitchen. He leaned closer. “The offer is open to you, too, if you want.”

She shut down—there was no other way to express it. “Thank you, but I don’t talk about the past. I appreciate whatever you can do for Noah, though.”

It was a warning. Back off. And yet as he sipped the coffee Sara had served him, Rick knew he was going to have a hard time doing that. Her husband’s suicide had affected her whether she admitted it or not. He had a hunch that refusing to discuss it was doing just as much damage to her spirit as it was to Noah’s.

Don’t get involved, his brain chided again.

She’s hurting, his soul answered. Am I not here to help others? How else can I make amends for my past?

His brain was ready with a retort.

Is it only amends you want to make? Aren’t you also trying to impress her?

His conscience reminded him that he needed to keep his motives clear, to focus on his mission.

He lifted his head and found a pair of beautiful brown eyes watching him.

Staying focused on his goal definitely wasn’t going to be easy.


Chapter Three

“What’s wrong, Rick?” Lucy Clow demanded on Saturday morning.

The diminutive septuagenarian, retired missionary and acting church secretary laid a model airplane kit on his desk.

“What’s that?” he asked instead of answering.

“Vacation Bible School crafts for next summer, if you approve. I bought a ton of airplane kits online.” Wispy tendrils of Lucy’s snow-white hair straggled across her furrowed brow.

“Cool. Thanks for thinking ahead.” Rick loved this woman’s heart for God’s work. “You’ve been poking at your hair again,”

“Forget my hair.” The way Lucy clapped her hands on her hips made it clear he wouldn’t escape her question. “Tell me what’s eating you.”

“Noah Crockett.” Rick leaned back in his chair. “He’s closed himself off. I promised his mother I’d help him, but I’m not making much progress.”

“With his mother?” Lucy laughed at his expression and sat on a nearby chair. “There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to someone, Rick.”

“You know I can’t get involved that way with a woman, Lucy. I’ve told you about my vow to God.”

“I know what you promised God. I’m just not sure He asked for or even wanted your promise.” Lucy frowned at him. “You keep beating yourself up over the past when God’s already forgiven you. How is that any different from Noah acting out and staying aloof?”

“Noah hasn’t hurt hundreds of people with his greed. I have. I thought I was too smart to get caught in a Ponzi scheme. That guy took all the money I handed over and instead of investing it, he used it to pay off his old clients.” He groaned at his colossal ego. “Who else but an arrogant, materialistic creep would write a know-it-all book on how to beat the system and then lose his clients’ money as well as his own to a slick-talking salesman?”

“God forgave you, Rick,” Lucy murmured. “Forgive yourself.”

“I can’t.” He sipped his now-cold coffee. “Not when that stupid book keeps selling and there’s not a thing I can do to stop it.”

“I noticed the royalty check when I deposited the offering last week,” Lucy murmured. “I suppose that’s what brought your guilt rushing back.”

“It’s never left,” he muttered. “If only they’d stop selling that book.” His hands fisted at his helplessness. “I feel that there are still people who are losing everything because of me.”

“I guess you could always write another book against those practices.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head then raked his fingers through his hair. “The agreement I signed doesn’t allow me to contradict anything I wrote or reveal myself as the author.”

“It’s in God’s hands, Rick.” Lucy’s quiet voice brimmed with comfort. “Leave it there.”

“I’m trying. Anyway, it’s not me we’re talking about. It’s Noah.” He sighed. “Under that ‘Who cares’ attitude is a simmering cauldron of anger. I promised Cassie I’d help him, but he won’t confide in me. He keeps burying himself in his music.”

“I was practicing the piano for Sunday service while he was waiting for you yesterday,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “He sat in the back and pretended to ignore me, but I heard him hum along. A couple of times he even sang a line. The kid has a pretty good voice.”

Rick froze as an idea bloomed.

“You look funny.” Lucy reached into her pocket. “I’ve got some pills for indigestion—”

“Lucy!” Rick hooted with laughter. “You, my dear secretary, are a genius.”

“I tell Hector that all the time.” She frowned at him. “But why am I a genius today?”

“Music.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m going to start a kids’ choir, Lucy, and I’m going to ask Noah to join. Will you play for us?”

“Me?” Lucy wrinkled her nose. She held out her fingers, bent with the ravages of arthritis. “I can’t play that fast kids’ stuff very well, Rick, but I guess I could help until you find someone else.”

“Bless you.” Rick grabbed his coat and gloves. “I’m going out to Lives to ask Laurel and Cassie if the boys can join. Then we’ll put out the word all over town.” He pulled open the door of his office then turned back and hugged the tiny woman. “You’re a peach, Luce.”

He was almost out the door when Lucy muttered, “I’d rather be a genius.”

“You’re both,” he called.

As he gunned his snowmobile and headed out of town toward Lives, his heart raced with excitement. As he went, he prayed, Let this choir be a blessing, Lord. Let Your word through music touch the kids’ hearts and souls with healing. Especially Noah’s. And Cassie’s, too.

Invigorated, he began formulating a list of songs that might help Noah face his anger. Once at Lives, Rick jumped off his machine and rapped on the door. When no one answered immediately he rapped harder. Finally the door opened a crack, revealing Cassie’s tousled head and bleary-eyed face.

It wasn’t lost on him that his heart beat a bit faster at the sight of her. But he ignored that fact as best he could.

“Hi.” Rick blinked, checked his watch and winced. “I’m guessing you weren’t up yet?”

“It’s Saturday, Rick. Barely past nine. And it’s New Year’s Eve. We’re all sleeping in.” She smothered a yawn and opened the door wide. “But I’m up now. Come in.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think of the time,” he apologized, his brain busy admiring the robe she wore. Delicately crocheted, it began in pale aqua at the bottom and grew progressively darker, drawing the eye up to where it turned a rich emerald tone in the lacy collar framing her face. “You look lovely.”

“Nice of you to say, Rick, but I had my first shift at the hospital and worked till four this morning. I don’t think ‘lovely’ applies.” Cassie turned to get the coffee container out of the fridge.

“I do.” He saw her pause a moment before she continued setting the perc. She flicked a switch and a moment later the rich fragrant aroma filled the room. “I’m really sorry I woke you.”

“It must be important.” She perched on a stool in the corner. “Do you want me to get Laurel?”

“Not yet. Though I do want to get her permission, and yours,” he added.

“For what?” she asked around another yawn.

“For Noah and the boys to join a choir, a kids’ choir,” he emphasized.

Cassie tilted her head to one side. “Noah used to sing in a choir at home—” She stopped. “If he’s interested I’m all for it.”

“Hi, Rick.” Laurel leaned against the door frame, glancing from him to Cassie. “All for what?”

“My kids’ choir,” he told her, noticing how tired she looked. “I wanted to ask your permission for the Lives boys to join, but we can talk later.”

“Good because at the moment my brain is mush. I stayed up too late working on my taxes. Teddy Stonechild has me convinced I’m doing something wrong.” She blinked sleepily. “If you’ll excuse me I’m going to return to my dream life on a tropical beach. Good night—I mean morning.” She waved a hand and left.

“Teddy was here?” Rick asked as Cassie poured coffee for both of them.

“Last night. Cream?” She held up the jug.

“Thanks.” Rick nodded when she’d added the right amount. “I didn’t realize he was back.”

“Back? He doesn’t live in Churchill?” This time Cassie sat directly across from him.

“His real home is in Vancouver. But he visits Churchill a lot.” Rick savored the delicious brew. “Your coffee is fantastic. Much better than the slough water I had at the church.”

“Do you live there?”

“Almost.” He chuckled. “The church has a small manse. It’s cozy.” He refocused.

“Teddy’s an interesting character. What else do you know?” she said.

“Kyle told me Teddy came as a client for his dad’s tour business years ago and has kept coming ever since. I believe Teddy owns a hotel business that his son now runs.”

Cassie nodded, then tilted her head to one side. “So what’s the inspiration behind this choir of yours?”

Rick hesitated to broach the subject on his mind. “I’ve talked to Noah a couple of times.”

Cassie perked up. “And?”

“I think he wants to open up but doesn’t know where to start,” he said. “Is there anything you can share with me that would help me understand what he’s going through?”

“Like what?” Rick could see Cassie’s barriers go up again, and he knew he had to tread very lightly.

“Maybe if I knew some details about what happened, I could make him feel that he could confide in me.”

“I don’t discuss my past, Rick.” Her lips pinched firmly together. “I just want to forget.”

“I understand.” Rick could almost feel the pain emanating from Cassie, and he was caught off guard by how much he wanted to ease it. “Losing your husband must have been very difficult. I’m not trying to pry. But can’t you tell me something? For Noah’s sake?”

Cassie sat silent for several minutes, motionless, her gaze locked on something Rick couldn’t see. Finally she took a sip of her coffee. Cradling the mug between her palms she gave a huge sigh.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you think will help Noah.” Rick waited, silently praying until finally she spoke again in a cool, matter-of-fact voice.

“My husband’s name was Eric. I married him thirteen years ago, when I was eighteen. He was twenty-seven. He died two years ago. He drove on an icy street at high speed. Deliberately. He hit a tree and died.”

Rick fought to keep his reaction to Cassie’s horrific story as neutral as possible, for her sake. Now he understood her discomfort on the icy ride to Lives from the train.

“Do you mind telling me why Eric did it?” he asked gently.

“He was an accountant. He served on our church board and agreed to be board treasurer, to oversee a fund-raising campaign to build a new church.” Cassie looked at him, her brown eyes guarded. “Eric was supposed to invest the building fund in something the board had chosen.”

Cassie’s voice broke and she paused to regain her composure. When she did, she said, “But Eric had other plans for the money. Plans I never knew much about.” She frowned. “The congregation was excited about getting a facility that would give them room to expand their programs. Eric received a lot of phone calls from people wanting to know when there would be enough money to start building.”

Compassion filled Rick. The way she avoided looking at him told him he was causing her pain by asking her about the past. Yet he needed information in order to help.

“Was that when Noah’s stutter began?” he asked. “After his father died?”

Cassie shook her head, her eyes pleading with him not to make her say any more.

“I only want to help him, Cassie. Whatever you tell me is in strictest confidence, but I need to know,” he said. Without thinking, he slid his hand across the table, over hers.

For a few moments Rick was certain she would tell him to forget it, that she didn’t want to talk anymore. But she looked at him for a long time, and Rick held her gaze. Gradually her shoulders relaxed and her brown eyes lost their dark anger. She slowly pulled her hand away and exhaled.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

“Noah’s stutter started quite a while after his dad died, after everyone in the church turned on us when they discovered the money was gone,” she said tiredly. “I became their scapegoat and Noah, too. The kids at school tormented him, called him the son of a thief.” Tears formed on her thick golden lashes. “Noah was a total innocent. We both were. But when I tried to explain, no one would listen. To them we were as guilty as Eric. Noah’s friends dumped him, parroting the nasty ugliness of what their parents said. That’s when he began to stutter.”

“Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Rick hated the tears streaming down her lovely face. Holding her was folly, but how could he not offer her comfort?

He stood and moved to sit next to her, taking her in his arms slowly, gently, in case it wasn’t what she wanted. He felt the tension break in her as she wept against his shoulder.

“They were Christians, Rick. They were supposed to love us.”

“Yes, they were.” How he wished he could ease this load from her. It broke his heart that her husband had caused so much grief and then abandoned her to face the consequences, that God’s children had wreaked so much havoc on her son. “I’m sorry they didn’t love you as Christ taught, Cassie. People are more important than lost money.”

“Oh, they got their money.” Cassie pulled out of his arms, dashing away her tears. Her voice grew harsh. “I sold the house and gave the money to the church to cover the loss.”

She’d sold her home? Rick couldn’t imagine what that decision had cost her, a single mom responsible for housing her child.

“I didn’t do it because I felt guilty,” Cassie said, her tone short. “I did it because I wanted them to stop torturing my son. But they didn’t. They thought it wasn’t enough, that I should cover the two years of interest they’d lost.”

“But surely when you explained—”

“I stopped explaining,” Cassie said, her voice passionless. “They displayed nothing but hatred for us. Before he ended it all, Eric tried to make it right. He sank every bit of our savings into trying to rebuild their fund. But he couldn’t do it. So when he was gone, I found out there was no cushion for Noah and me, no life insurance, nothing but my part-time nursing salary to support us.”

“Your parents couldn’t help?”

“My mother died when I was nine. Ever since then my father has been...busy.” Cassie’s voice dropped. “He blamed me, too, for not knowing what Eric was doing. So I stopped trying to defend myself.”

Rick could see how much it cost Cassie to say this. He longed to pull her back into his arms, but for a moment, he questioned his motives. Did he want to offer her more comfort or did he simply love the feel of her in his arms? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question.

“The day Noah got beaten up by his former friends was the day I knew getting him more counseling wouldn’t help. We had to leave.” Her eyes were dark beneath her damp eyelashes. “But leaving hasn’t helped. I can’t get him to let go of his anger.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” Rick assured her. “Don’t worry, Cassie. Once the two of you are involved in our church groups—”

“I won’t be involved in them.” She looked at him with an iciness that dared him to argue. “I can’t be in a church, near people who call themselves Christians, without having it all come rushing back.”

“These are not the same people, Cassie.”

“But it’s the same God. Where was He when my son—my innocent son—was being bullied? Why didn’t He help us?” She glared at him, demanding answers.

“He did help you. He led you here,” Rick murmured. “To a new life and a chance to start over.”

“I will start over,” she said with a nod. “But I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice. I will not trust God again. It’s too hard when He fails to come through.”

“Cassie—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s the same thing my father said to me. Jesus never fails.”

“It’s true.”

“In my case it isn’t.” Cassie held up a hand. “Don’t trot out any more verses, Rick. I’m a preacher’s kid. I’ve heard them all. But I don’t believe in them. Not anymore.”

So much pain. Rick knew he had pushed Cassie to her limit, and now it was time to back off.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She emptied her cup in the sink then turned to face him, her voice hard. “I hope you’ve heard enough to figure out how to help Noah because I don’t intend to talk about this ever again.”

“I appreciate your confiding in me,” he told her quietly.

“If Noah wants to sing in your choir, I have no objection. If he wants to attend your church, that’s also fine.” The gold in Cassie’s brown eyes flashed. “But don’t expect me to do the same. Despite my father’s admonitions about fleeing the fold, and any rebuke you might want to add, I will not be part of your congregation, Rick. Now, excuse me. I need to change.”

Cassie swept out of the room and in that instant Rick’s heart rate ripped into skyrocketing overdrive.

He suddenly realized why her face seemed so familiar.

Rick had seen a photo of a young Cassie every time he’d visited John Foster, the minister who’d saved him countless times while he was living on the streets, and who’d mentored him on his path to salvation and helped him get into seminary.

John carried a picture of Cassie in his wallet, and had a larger one on his desk. Sometimes Rick had come upon him staring at her photo, murmuring a prayer for her.

If he was honest, Rick had to admit he’d also been a little resentful of Cassie. She had a real home, a fantastic father who loved her, people who took care of her and made sure she was safe.

It had seemed to Rick that Cassie had everything and he had nothing. No family, no permanent address, no one who cared if he came or went. Even worse, there was no one to soothe his hurts. Oh, how he’d longed for that.

Rick wasn’t sure how it had happened but the more he saw Cassie’s photo, the more he’d stared at it, until he’d begun imagining a future in which he had all the things she did—a home, a family and love.

Funny thing was, as he and John deepened their friendship, Rick began to understand how deeply the caring father mourned the fact that he wasn’t able to be with his daughter as much as he wanted. And why hadn’t he?

Because John had been spending his time with Rick trying to help him find a way out of his life on the streets.

One more thing Rick had to feel guilty about.

His soul groaned under the weight of it.

* * *

When Cassie finally returned downstairs, the house was bustling and Rick was gone.

“L-look, Mom,” Noah said, excitement glowing in his blue eyes. “It’s s-snowing like c-crazy.”

“Sure is,” she agreed after a glance out the window. “Does this mean the fireworks for tonight are canceled?” she asked Laurel.

“Rick said he thought they would be. He’s gone to set up a post at the church in case anyone gets caught in the storm and needs refuge.” She smiled. “He’s always thinking of others.”

“P-pastor R-Rick is going to s-start a choir,” Noah told her. “He a-asked me to j-join.”

“That sounds like fun.” Cassie held her breath, unwilling to show any hope that he would get involved in something with his peers. “Do you think you will?”

“M-maybe. I l-like singing.”

“Good.” Cassie exchanged a nonchalant glance at Laurel, knowing she’d understand. “So what will we do for New Year’s Eve?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said Cassie’s friend.

Laurel already had a list of things she needed to prepare so the boys would enjoy their evening despite the fireworks cancellation. Cassie was glad to keep busy, hoping it would keep her mind off her conversation with Rick, when she’d dumped her past all over him, wept on his shoulder and then told him she’d never darken the door of his church.

She felt stupid, weak and ashamed that he’d seen her so needy, but being in his arms had felt wonderful.

Though Sara and Kyle were away for the holiday, Sara had left the freezer and cooler well stocked. Cassie and Laurel chose two casseroles and set them to bake for dinner, then prepared snack foods for later in the evening. They were putting the finishing touches on a series of sweet treats when the power went off.

“I was afraid this would happen with that high wind,” Laurel said when it hadn’t come back on after twenty minutes. “I need to go out to the shed and start the generator so the furnace will keep us warm.”

Cassie watched her bundle up, unable to stem her worry. She stood at the window in the front hall and tracked Laurel through the whirling snow to make sure she arrived safely. But when minutes turned into half an hour and Laurel hadn’t come back, worry burgeoned into fear. She’d just put on her coat to follow her friend when she saw Laurel pushing her way back through the drifts.

Cassie glanced at the light in the hall. The bulb remained unlit.

Apprehension filled her, but she tried to hide it as she met Laurel at the door. Once her friend was safely inside she quickly shut out the wind and snow.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked quietly.

“I can’t get it to start, though I tried about a hundred times.” Laurel shivered as she rubbed her hands together. “Kyle tested it last week. It should be fine.”

“So what do we do now?” Cassie whispered.

“I don’t know,” Laurel admitted. “We have to have heat so I’m going to read the manual again. Maybe I missed something.” She hurried to her office.

Cassie stood in the hall. She wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered, trying to fight off her fear.

“M-mom, Laurel’s c-cell phone is r-ringing,” Noah bellowed from the kitchen.

Cassie answered. Her heart jumped a beat when she heard Rick’s voice.

“Hey, Cassie. I tried the landline but I couldn’t get through,” he told her. “Is everything okay?”

“The power’s out,” Cassie murmured, keeping her voice low so the boys wouldn’t guess from her tone how vulnerable she felt. “I guess that took out the phones.”

“You haven’t started the generator yet?” Rick sounded puzzled.

“Laurel tried. It won’t start.” Cassie went to Laurel’s office but didn’t find her there. “Laurel’s not available right now. I’ll have her call you.” She didn’t want to keep him when he must have things to do, but the sound of his voice was so reassuring.

“I contacted the power utility. A line is down. Apparently it will be a while before power will be restored.” Rick paused for a moment. “But you guys need heat and that means the generator. I’m coming out there.”

“In this storm?” Cassie glanced outside. Fear tiptoed along her spine. “It’s too big a risk.”

“Not at all. I know the landmarks along the way. I won’t get lost,” he assured her. “Besides, Kyle’s taught me all the wilderness survival techniques he knows.” He paused a moment. “I can’t just leave you there, knowing you’re in trouble.”

“But it’s so dangerous to travel in a storm.”

“It’s nice of you to worry about me, Cassie, but I’ll be fine.” His warm voice eased some of her concern. “See you in a bit.”

“Please be careful,” she whispered.

“Always.”

Cassie hung up, unable to stem her worry. So many things could happen to Rick.

To keep herself busy, she set the table and mixed up a salad, trying to maintain her facade that nothing was wrong until Laurel decided how she wanted to explain the situation to the boys. A few moments later Laurel returned, having taken a second shot at fixing the generator. Cassie filled her in on Rick’s call.

“I tried to talk him out of it but he insisted,” she told Laurel helplessly.

“He would. That’s the kind of man he is. Always giving for others.” Worry showed clearly in Laurel’s frown. “Can you keep the boys busy? I’m going to pray for Rick.”

“I hope it works,” Cassie told her.

“Prayer always works, Cassie. God always hears us. Romans says, ‘Anyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.’” Laurel gave Cassie a quick smile before she left the room.

Cassie wasn’t as certain as Laurel about God’s protection, but she’d had enough conversation about God for one day.

Lives got chillier as the day went on. Laurel explained their predicament to the boys, who grew increasingly more solemn as they waited for Rick. Though it was barely mid-afternoon, the light was fading fast. Cassie knew that Rick’s chances of arriving safely during the storm dropped considerably with every minute that passed.

When the last of the day’s light faded, Cassie and Laurel raided Kyle’s cupboard for emergency lanterns, which the boys began cranking. Then Cassie asked them to cut used milk jugs into candleholders.

“Wh-what are they f-for?” Noah asked.

“We’ll put them in the windows so Rick can find us in the storm.” It was silly, but Cassie couldn’t suppress her desperation to do something, anything, to help Rick reach them. Surely God wouldn’t let anything happen to His emissary, would He?

He let other things happen.

Her heart squeezed tight at the foreboding that filled her. Cassie began to wish she could pray. But she couldn’t get the words past the distrustful block in her throat. God had let her down before. How could she trust Him now, with something as important at Rick’s life?

Then, above the whine of the raging wind, she heard the roar of a snowmobile. Her heart surging with relief, Cassie followed Laurel and the boys to the front door where they all urged Rick inside.

“What is this, an honor guard?” he joked, dragging off his helmet.

Everyone laughed, shattering the tension. Laurel urged the boys to go back to their warm quilts in the family room while Cassie helped Rick slide off his snow-covered coat. When his green eyes met hers, her heart beat so fast all she could manage was, “Welcome.”

Cassie didn’t think she’d ever been so glad to see someone in her entire life.

“Awful night to host a party.” Rick tossed her a brash grin then kicked off his boots. Cassie and Laurel followed him as he hobbled to a kitchen chair and rubbed his toes. “Sorry it took so long. I made a wrong turn. Kyle will ream me out when I tell him,” he said, looking slightly abashed. “Thanks for lighting those candles. Believe it or not, they helped.”

“That was Cassie’s idea.” Laurel turned to wink at her.

“Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate it.” Rick’s gaze clung to hers a bit too long before he turned back to Laurel. “Give me a few minutes to get the ice off my feet and I’ll go check on the generator. I brought some extra gas for it in case you’re low.”

“We have lots of gas. I just can’t get the thing to start,” Laurel complained.

Cassie smiled as the boys returned and gathered around Rick, drawn in by his charisma. Wrapped in their warm blankets, they sat on the floor at his feet, asking a thousand questions, barely waiting for answers.

Rod had been at Lives the longest and had beaten Rick at checkers many times. Bryan had begun to adapt to his diabetes, thanks to Rick’s encouragement. Barry was the quiet one, but his adoration of the young pastor was clear. Michael suffered from depression and Daniel dealt with the aftereffects of drug use. The newest arrivals were still finding their way at Lives, but as Rick laughed and joked with them, each boy joined in.

Every so often Rick’s eyes lifted in search of hers. Each time Cassie pretended to be busy, too aware of her heightened response to him, too embarrassed by the surge of relief that had filled her when he’d walked through the door.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Rick said to Laurel as he rose. “Got a couple of flashlights?”

She handed them to him. “I’m coming, too,” she said. “I need to see what’s wrong.”

“Okay. See you guys in a bit,” he said cheerfully. With a smile that seemed to be just for Cassie, he and Laurel left.

Cassie wasted the next ten minutes telling herself she would have worried about anyone who had been out in a storm like this. By the time the power flickered on, she’d almost convinced herself it was true. But when Rick returned and accepted the hot chocolate she handed him, her heart was still thudding and she couldn’t catch her breath.

With the furnace blasting out heat, Lives quickly warmed up. Cassie and Laurel finished preparing supper using candlelight to save the generator because no one knew when power would be restored. Then they all gathered around the big table to eat.

Cassie was not surprised in the slightest that Rick made the meal joyful, from his grace of thanksgiving to the jokes he shared.

“He’s got the boys so busy laughing there’s no time for them to miss their families,” Laurel said as they cleaned up the kitchen. “Just another reason I adore that man.”

Laurel coaxed Rick into leading the games she’d planned, and Cassie couldn’t help but laugh when he refused to let either of them sit out, despite their protests. Cassie didn’t mind. The room resounded with loud and happy laughter and she couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. Even Noah seemed to lose his reticence, begging her to join in a game of Twister that left Cassie feeling like a pretzel.

“You’re good at this,” Rick told her, offering a helping hand up. When she took it, she felt the warmth of his hand against hers.

“I have to be—it’s Noah’s favorite.” Once on her feet, she let go of his hand, anxious to break the connection between them.

What was wrong with her tonight? Were her responses so strong because she’d been afraid for Rick?

“It’s getting close to midnight,” Rick said. “Maybe we should fill the punch glasses so we’ll be ready for a toast.”

Since the others were busily arranging the white domino tiles for a game, Cassie agreed. She and Rick worked together. After their hands touched for the third time, Cassie couldn’t remain silent.

“I was so scared for you,” she said in a half whisper so the boys wouldn’t hear.

“Really?” His eyes widened. A smile stretched across his face. “That was nice of you. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone worry about me before.”

A pleased look stayed with him even after they’d finished filling the glasses. Such a small thing, yet he seemed delighted by it. Cassie couldn’t help wondering why this handsome and very nice man didn’t have anybody who cared about him.

Soon they were finished and all was ready for the midnight hour.

“One more minute,” Rick said, smiling. “Then we start a new chapter in our lives.” He tapped a spoon against a glass. “Hey,” he called. “Are you guys ready for our New Year’s toast?”

The boys grabbed their glasses, laughing as they counted down the seconds. Her mind working furiously, Cassie moved as far as possible from Rick. She could not, would not get caught next to him at the stroke of midnight. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of his lips touching hers and she scolded herself for her imagination. But when she caught his gaze she knew that he’d been thinking along the same lines, and that flustered her even more.

“Ready?” she asked Noah, tearing her gaze from Rick’s.

“Y-yeah.” He blinked as Laurel’s big wall clock chimed the midnight hour.

“Happy New Year!” Cassie clinked her glass with her son’s. “May it be your best year ever, Noah.”

“Happy N-New Year,” he repeated.

The boys moved around, eager to tap their glasses against everyone else’s. That was how Cassie ended up next to Rick, despite her best efforts.

“Happy New Year, Cassie,” he said softly.

It was only their glasses that made contact, but the effect was the same as if his lips had touched hers. She spilled a few drops of punch on her fingers as she tried to find her voice.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered.

His eyes held hers for a long timeless moment. Finally he turned toward the boys and led them in singing “Auld Lang Syne.” Cassie forced herself to breathe in and out slowly, causing her heart rate to eventually return to normal by the end of his short but fervent prayer asking God to bless each of them in the year ahead.

“Let’s share our resolutions,” Rick said.

“What’s a resolution?” Rod asked.

“Grab your snacks. We’ll sit in the family room,” Laurel said. “Rick can explain.”

Cassie sat on the arm of the sofa beside Noah and waited until everyone had settled, curious to hear what Rick would say.

“Resolutions are plans we make to accomplish specific things in the coming year,” he explained in a solemn tone. “It’s a goal to focus on. For example, my resolution this year is to serve God with all my heart, even when it means sacrificing my own plans.”

Cassie frowned. The way Rick said it made it sound as if he was trying to make up for something. What was her resolution?

“What about you guys? Any idea what you’d like to accomplish in the new year?”

Rod grimaced. “My resolution is to figure out math.”

“That’s a good one,” Rick encouraged. “Hard, but good. Anyone else?”

“Mine is to get another saxophone,” Michael said, his blond curly head tilted to one side.

“You play sax? You and I could brainstorm on that maybe,” Rick offered.

“I’d like that,” he said shyly.

Cassie was surprised Michael had answered at all. According to the file she had on him, he was suffering from depression. He certainly hadn’t volunteered any information previously. It must be Rick who was helping him find his place.

“I’m going to get along better with others this year,” Laurel said.

Soon Rick had coaxed each boy to talk about some plan for the future—everyone except Noah, who’d said only that he’d think about it. Cassie’s heart was still aching from Noah’s withdrawal, so she was not prepared when Rick called her name.

“What’s yours, Cassie?” Rick’s gaze pinned her.

“My resolution?” She blinked in surprise, though she knew she should have expected the question. But what to say?

Like a giant wave, the hurt rolled over her, lending a sharp edge to her voice when she said, “I’m going to rebuild my life this year.”

Rick studied her for several moments. Was that pity in his eyes? Cassie did not want pity from this man. She shifted uncomfortably, aware that the boys were now staring, too.

“Well, you’re in the right place, Cassie, because that’s what we do at Lives Under Construction, right, boys?” Laurel said, kindly drawing the attention away from her.

“Thank you all for sharing,” Rick added. “I’ll pray God will help each of you fulfill the desires of your hearts.”

In the clamor of the next hour of games, Cassie often felt Rick’s eyes on her. She studiously avoided looking at him, forcing herself to join the fun, suppressing all that she was feeling. But when her eyes accidentally met his, she knew she wasn’t fooling him.

When the boys could no longer hide their yawns, Laurel said it was time for bed. She convinced Rick to sleep in the family room because of the storm, and then Cassie persuaded Laurel to leave the cleaning-up to her.

She’d just snapped off the kitchen light and was about to go to her room when Rick’s touch on her arm stopped her. She shifted so his hand dropped away. “Yes, Rick?”

“I wanted to wish you the very best with your resolution, Cassie.” His green eyes swirled with something she couldn’t define, something that made her knees weak against her will. “I hope God will bless you and Noah as you start a new life here. I’ll pray you find what you need in Churchill and at Lives.”

“Thank you. Happy New Year to you, too, Rick,” she said quietly. “Thanks for coming to our rescue.”





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/lois-richer/north-country-family/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.