Книга - Light in the Storm

Light in the Storm
Margaret Daley


Freedom! After raising her three siblings, high school teacher Beth Coleman was finally, at thirty-eight, responsible for herself alone. With her nurturing nature, she'd loved caring for her family, but now she could travel, see the world. Her only decision? Where to go. Yet as Beth pondered South America as her first stop, a troubled teen walked into her classroom, and with her, a single dad - a handsome, kind, caring man to boot.Though Beth tried to deny it, Samuel Morgan and his ready-made family began to win her heart. South America awaited, but so did Samuel…and the new family she wondered if she was willing to risk losing.









“Are you sure I can’t pay you

for tutoring Jane?”


“No. We’ve been through this before, Samuel. I don’t want your money. I’m doing this for your daughter.”

“Then at least let me take you out for dinner.”

“I don’t—”

“Please, Beth. I feel like I should do something for you.”

She paused on the porch, looking back at Samuel framed in the doorway with the light behind him and his features in the shadows. Dinner? Like a real date? The more she found out about Samuel, the more she liked him—and he didn’t fit into her future plans at all, especially with his ready-made family.

THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:

Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends

is never ending.

GOLD IN THE FIRE (LI #273)

A MOTHER FOR CINDY (LI #283)

LIGHT IN THE STORM (LI #297)




MARGARET DALEY


feels she has been blessed. She has been married thirty-three years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun, who married his high school sweetheart in June 2002.

Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.



Light in the Storm


With us is the Lord our God

to help us and to fight our battles.

—2 Chronicles 32:8


To my readers—I appreciate your support.

To my local RWA chapter, Romance Writers Ink—

You are a wonderful group of writers.


Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Beth and Samuel’s story in Light in the Storm. I am a high school teacher who has worked with students with learning disabilities. It is important to convey to them that they have strengths as well as weaknesses. Sometimes we dwell on our weaknesses and our self-esteem suffers for it. Yes, we need to be aware of what we need to work on, but no one is perfect. Jane needed to learn that in this story, as did Beth and Samuel.

Another aspect of my story was Beth’s battle with breast cancer. With it being one of the common forms of cancer for women, I wanted to stress the importance of early detection. One way is monthly self-examination. There is a Buddy Check program that advocates a woman forming a partnership with a friend or family member; each reminds the other to self-check monthly.

I love hearing from my readers. You can contact me at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or visit my Web site at www.margaretdaley.com.

Best wishes,









Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue




Chapter One


With a huff Jane Morgan plopped into her desk. “I don’t see why I have to be here.”

Beth Coleman sighed, turned from watching the snow falling outside Sweetwater High School and said, “Because you’ll be the topic of conversation. It’s your future we’ll be discussing. I thought you should have a say in it.”

Flipping her long, dark brown hair behind her shoulders, Jane slouched in her desk, her arms folded over her chest, a pout firmly in place. “What future? Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be here.”

Beth again looked at the snow coming down and wondered if this was the best time to have a parent conference. Of course, when she had contacted Jane’s father yesterday, there hadn’t been any snow. “Does your father have a cell phone?” Maybe she should call him and cancel until the weather was better. She could drive Jane home.

“Yes.”

As with Jane’s performance in class the past few weeks since the teenager had enrolled at the beginning of the second semester, Beth realized she would have to ask what the number was, because Jane wouldn’t give any information unless she absolutely had to. “What is—”

“Sorry I’m late, but as you can see, the weather is getting bad.” A large man with blond hair and brown eyes stood framed in the classroom doorway.

Speechless for a few seconds, Beth just stared at Jane’s father. Samuel Morgan wasn’t anything like her image of him when she’d talked to him briefly the day before. His voice was gruff and deep, but his looks were refined—handsome but not ruggedly so. More along the lines of a male model she’d seen in a magazine selling cologne. Whoa! Why in the world had she thought that?

Beth mentally shook her head and crossed the room. Presenting her hand, which he took in a firm grip and shook, she said, “I’m Jane’s English teacher, Beth Coleman. Please come in and have a seat—unless you’d rather reschedule this meeting because of the snow. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon.”

He shrugged out of his heavy black wool overcoat, ran a hand through his wet, conservatively cut hair and entered the room. “No, this is too important to postpone. And besides, I’m here, so we might as well talk now. Don’t you agree, Jane?”

When Samuel squeezed into the desk next to his daughter, Beth noticed how he dwarfed it, even though it was standard size for a high school class. She knew he was a minister, and yet for a brief moment he seemed more a warrior than a peacemaker.

“Sure. Why not?” Jane averted her face, staring off into space, defiance in every line of her body.

“On the phone, Miss Coleman, you said that Jane was having a problem with the work you’ve assigned.”

Beth took a desk near the pair, scooting it around so she faced both of them. “She isn’t doing any of the work. She’s been here nearly two weeks and I have yet to see anything from her. We’ve had four graded assignments so far this semester. She has a zero right now.”

“Not one grade?” Samuel asked Jane, his tension conveyed by his clenched jaw and frown.

His daughter lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but didn’t say a word, her head remaining turned away.

“Is there a problem I’m not aware of?” Beth saw a flash of vulnerability appear in his dark eyes before he masked the expression. It touched a part of her that over the years had seen many single parents struggle to do the job of both mother and father.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve just moved here.” He glanced at his daughter. “Jane has never adjusted well to new towns.”

“How many times have you moved?”

“This is our sixth move. I was a chaplain in the army until recently. We’re both looking forward to settling down in one place.”

“Adjusting to a new town can be tough. If Jane’s willing to work and stay after school to make up the assignments, I’ll take them late this time.”

“What do you say, Jane?” Samuel leaned forward, his hands laced together on top of the desk. His whitened knuckles indicated nothing casual in the gesture.

His daughter, silent, peered at the snow falling, as though she hadn’t heard the question.

“Jane?” A firmness entered his deep, gruff voice.

She swung her gaze to her father, her pout deepening. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at him, several emotions vying for dominance. Anger won out over a need to please.

“Would you rather the zeros remain on your grade?” he asked with an underlying calm that amazed Beth.

Samuel Morgan was the new reverend of Sweetwater Community Church, where she attended. It was obvious that he had a great deal of patience, if his dealings with his daughter were any indication. That was comforting to know, since Reverend Collins, their previous minister, had been beloved by all in the congregation.

Jane sighed, straightening in the desk. “If you must know, I didn’t understand a couple of the assignments.”

“Did you ask Miss Coleman for help?”

“No.”

“Jane, I’ll be glad to help you when you stay to complete the work. And for that matter, any other assignment you have trouble with. All you have to do is ask me for help. That’s part of my job.”

The teenager looked at Beth as if she thought Beth was crazy to think she was going to ask for any assistance on an assignment, especially in a class of thirty students. Beth wondered if something else was going on beneath Jane’s defiance. It wasn’t that unusual to see a teen rebel, but Beth sensed a troubled soul begging for help. She made a mental note to check with the young woman to see if she understood her homework assignments. Sometimes when a student moved a lot, she lost ground because curriculum wasn’t always the same in each school.

“Miss Coleman, Jane will stay after school every day until she has made up her work. Since I pick her up, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Beth slipped from the desk. “We can start Monday. Hopefully the weather will be clear by then.”

Samuel rose. “She’ll be here.”

Jane shoved herself out of the desk, pushing it several inches across the hardwood floor. “Maybe we’re in for a blizzard.”

“We don’t often have blizzards in Sweetwater,” Beth said with a smile. Even as a teacher she enjoyed the occasional snow day when school was canceled.

“That’s good to hear, because it sure is snowing hard now,” Samuel said, looking toward the window.

“Now, that’s something to pray about,” Jane mumbled, starting for the door.

Samuel watched his daughter leave the classroom. “Sorry about that, Miss Coleman.”

“Please call me Beth. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I attend Sweetwater Community Church.”

His brows rose. “You do? I didn’t see you there last week.”

“I’m sorry I missed your first Sunday, but I was taking my brother to college in Louisville. He just started this semester and he had to move into the dorm.”

“Then I look forward to seeing you this Sunday.” His gaze again slid to the window. “That is, if we don’t have that blizzard my daughter is praying for.”

Beth fitted her hand in his to shake goodbye and was conscious of something else beside its firmness—a warmth. A warmth that shot up her arm and made her very aware of the man before her. The warrior impression she’d received earlier was tempered with the calmness he’d exhibited when dealing with his daughter. He gave off mixed messages, which intrigued Beth. She suspected he was more adept at listening to other people’s problems than telling anyone his.

“Tomorrow the sun will be shining. Mark my words, Reverend Morgan.”

“Hope you’re right, Miss—Beth. And please call me Samuel.” He walked toward the door, turned back and added, “I still have a lot to do to finish moving in and bad weather definitely puts a damper on things.”

Before she realized what she was really doing, Beth asked, “Can I help with anything?” The second the words were out of her mouth, she bit down on her lower lip. Her first weekend in years without any obligations, and she was volunteering to help the reverend put his house in order. When would she learn? She didn’t have to be there for everyone. It was okay to take some time for herself.

He chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I know how many papers English teachers have to grade. My children and I will get it done…if not this weekend, then the next.”

When he left, Beth walked to the window and stared at the swirling mass of white, watching for Jane and Samuel to come out the front door. When they emerged, they were quickly obscured by the blowing snow. She loved cold weather and the occasional snow they had in Sweetwater. It brought out the child she’d never been allowed to be. But this storm might be worse than she had originally thought.

Beth headed for her desk and quickly gathered those papers that the reverend had mentioned, stuffing them into her briefcase to grade over the weekend. But she promised herself as she left her classroom that she would find some time to make a snowman and give him a carrot for his nose and pieces of bark for his eyes and mouth.

After pulling her cap down over her ears and tying her wool scarf around her neck, Beth exited the school building and walked toward where she knew she had parked her white car, even though in the driving snow it wasn’t visible. Halfway to the parking lot she spied her Jeep and quickened her steps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blue Ford Mustang with the reverend and Jane standing next to it.

Why haven’t they left? Beth wondered, and changed her destination.

“Something wrong?” she asked as she approached the pair arguing while the snow blew around them.

Samuel stopped what he was going to say to his daughter and glanced toward Beth. “I was for going back inside and getting help. Jane was for hiking home.” He gestured toward his car. “Won’t start.”

“You probably can’t get anyone out here to help right now. Every tow truck will be busy just trying to haul people out of ditches. I can give you a ride home and you can see what’s wrong with your car tomorrow—if this snow lets up.”

“You’re not going to get an argument out of me. Where are you parked?”

Beth waved her hand toward her five-year-old Jeep Cherokee. “I don’t usually have too much trouble in the snow.”

As they trudged toward the Jeep, Jane mumbled something under her breath. If her tight-lipped expression was any hint, Beth was glad she hadn’t heard what the teenager had said. When Beth reached her car, she unlocked her doors and slid inside while Jane plopped herself in the back seat and Samuel climbed into the front.

“You’re staying at the rectory, aren’t you?” Beth asked, starting the engine.

“Yes. I hope it isn’t too far out of your way.”

“Practically on my way home.”

Samuel stared out the windshield. “Can I help you scrape the windows clear of snow? I’m not sure how much good it will do, as fast as the snow is coming down.”

Turning a knob on the dashboard, Beth cranked up the heat. “Let me warm up the car first, then we’ll see what can be done about the windows.” She peered over her shoulder. “Jane, I’ve got two scrapers under the front seat. Can you reach them for me?”

With her mouth slashing downward, Jane produced the two scrapers and thrust them at Beth.

“In fact, since we’re inconveniencing you, Jane and I will take care of the windows while you stay warm in here,” Samuel offered.

“Dad,” Jane protested.

“Yes? Do you have a problem with that? You can always walk like you wanted to a few minutes ago.”

Jane folded her arms across her chest, her hands clenched, and stared out the side, muttering under her breath.

Beth started to decline the offer of help, but she caught Samuel’s look. He shook his head as though he knew what she was going to say and wanted her to accept their assistance. She snapped her mouth closed and gave him the scrapers.

While Samuel and Jane cleared the snow and ice built up on the windows, Beth watched, feeling guilty that she was warm while they were freezing. She didn’t accept help well and this was making her very uncomfortable, especially when she saw Jane’s face set in a frown, her cheeks red from the cold, her body beginning to shake because she was dressed in a short skirt with a heavy jacket that covered her only to her waist. Except for a pair of half boots, large portions of the teenager’s legs were exposed to the fierce elements. At least she wore gloves, Beth thought, tapping her hand against the steering wheel to keep herself from snatching the scraper from Jane and finishing the job.

Ten minutes later father and daughter settled back into the Jeep, their sighs indicating they relished the warmth. Beth’s guilt soared. She had a problem with wanting to do everything for everyone else. She had to learn to say no and to let others do for her. Darcy and Jesse were always telling her that at their Saturday get-togethers. She should listen to her friends. But it was tough to go against ingrained behavior.

Negotiating out of the parking lot, Beth drove slowly, glad that most people were off the roads and hopefully safely in their homes. “Too much longer and I’m afraid we would have been stuck at school.”

Jane gave a choking sound, which caused her father to send a censuring look her way. Having raised three siblings as well as teaching high schoolers for the past fifteen years, Beth understood the inner workings of a teenage mind. Jane fitted into the category of those who hated school and would rather be anywhere but there—hence her desire to strike out and walk home in a snowstorm, even though she wasn’t dressed properly for any kind of walk.

“Where were you last stationed in the army?” Beth asked, hating the silence that had descended.

With his gaze fixed on the road ahead, Samuel said, “Leavenworth.”

“Where the prison is?”

“Yes.”

“Stuck in the middle of nowhere,” Jane offered from the back seat.

“Were you ever stationed overseas?”

“Germany and Japan, which gave us a chance to see that part of the world.”

Thinking of all the places she would love to visit, Beth chanced a quick look toward Samuel. “That must have been interesting.”

“If you could speak the language,” Jane said.

Beth heard the pout in the teenager’s voice, but didn’t turn to look at her. She could imagine the crossed arms and defiant expression on the girl’s face, often a permanent part of her countenance. “True. That could be a problem, but they have such wonderful programs for teaching languages. I’ve been using a taped series to learn Spanish.”

“I always tried to learn at least some of the language when we were stationed in a country. Japanese was hard, but I found German easy, especially to read.” Samuel shifted in his seat, taking his attention from the road. With a smile he asked, “Have you traveled much?”

Beth shook her head. “But that’s about to change. My brother’s at college, so as of a week ago I have no one left at home.” Beth recalled the mixed emotions she had experienced when she had said goodbye to Daniel at school. Elation at the sense of freedom she now had mingled with sadness that he would be starting a part of his life without her.

“Are you planning on going somewhere they speak Spanish?”

“Yes, but I don’t know where yet. I’m going to spread a map of Central and South America out in front of me and throw a dart. I’m going where it lands.”

Samuel chuckled. “An unusual method of planning a vacation.”

“It won’t be a vacation. I want to live there, for a while at least.”

“What about Brazil? That takes up a good portion of South America, and they speak Portuguese.”

“I understand there are a lot of similarities between the two languages. If I end up in Brazil, it will just make the adventure even more exciting.”

“So when are you going to throw that dart?”

“Soon. I’m thinking of having a party and inviting all my friends to be there for the big moment.” Saying out loud what she had been toying with for the past few months made her firm the decision to have a party in celebration of a new phase in her life, even though she rarely threw parties.

Beth pulled up in front of the rectory, a large two-story white Victorian house that sat next to the Sweetwater Community Church. “Tomorrow call Al’s Body Shop. He should be able to help you with your car. He’s a member of the church.”

Jane threw open the back door and jumped out, hurrying toward the front door, her uncomfortable-looking high-heeled short boots sinking beneath the blanket of snow.

Samuel observed his daughter for a few seconds, then turned to Beth. “Thanks for the ride. You’re a lifesaver. Are you sure you’ll be okay going home alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I only live three blocks over. If it gets too bad, I can always walk and then call Al’s tomorrow myself.”

“At least you’re more suitably dressed for a hike in the snow than my daughter. I’d better let you go.” He opened the door. “I’ll have a talk with Jane, and she’ll be there after school on Monday.”

As he climbed from the Jeep, Beth said, “See you Sunday.”

Samuel plodded toward the porch while Beth inched her car away from the curb. He was thankful she had been there to help them with a ride home. Just from the short time he had been around the woman he got the impression she went out of her way to assist people when she could. He liked that about her.

Picturing Beth in his mind, he smiled. Her blue eyes had sparkled with kindness and her generous mouth had curved with a smile meant to put a person at ease. He imagined she had a hard time keeping her reddish-brown hair tamed and in control, but he liked it, because every other aspect of Miss Beth Coleman was restrained, down to her neat gray dress and matching pumps. She probably thought of her long curly hair as her bane, while he thought it softened her prim and proper facade.

Taking one last look back, Samuel noticed the white Jeep quickly disappearing in the blowing snow. The bad weather had swept through so quickly that it had caught most people off guard. The only good thing about today was that Aunt Mae had arrived before the storm.

When he entered his house, where boxes were still stacked all over the place, delicious aromas teased him, causing his stomach to rumble. At least now with Aunt Mae here, they would have a decent meal instead of his feeble attempts at cooking. There was even a chance that his house would come together before summer vacation.

Shaking off the snow that still clung to him, he stomped his feet on the mat he was sure Aunt Mae had placed in front of the door, then shrugged out of his overcoat. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what his aunt was preparing for dinner. Onions. Garlic. Meat. Hoping it was her spaghetti, he headed toward the kitchen to see.

“Dad.”

Samuel stopped in the doorway into the den and peered over the mound of boxes to find his middle child on the floor with his bottom stuck up in the air while he tried to look under the couch. “Did you lose something, Craig?”

His son straightened, one hand clutched around his Game Boy. “Allie is hiding things again. Can’t you do something about her?”

“I’ll have a talk with her. How’s your room coming along?” Samuel asked, realizing his son must have gotten some of his things put away or the Game Boy wouldn’t be in his hand.

Craig hopped to his feet. “I’m through.”

“Good, son.” Samuel moved toward the kitchen, making a note to himself to check Craig’s room. His son’s version of clean was definitely not his.

In the kitchen Samuel found his aunt by the stove adding something to a big pot while his youngest stood on a chair next to her and stirred whatever was cooking in the big pan. “Smells wonderful. Spaghetti?”

Aunt Mae glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s what Allie and Craig wanted. They said something about being tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“You know how hopeless I am in the kitchen.”

She tsked. “Samuel, after over two years you’d think I would have rubbed off on you.”

“Aunt Mae, don’t ever go away again,” Allie said in a serious voice while continuing to stir the sauce.

His aunt, a woman who obviously loved her own cooking, tousled Allie’s hair. “Hopefully my sister won’t hurt herself again. I didn’t like being away from you all.”

“Next time Aunt Kathy can come here instead of you going there.” Allie laid the spoon on the counter.

Visions of Mae’s older sister living with them sent panic through Samuel. He started to say something about his eight-year-old daughter’s suggestion.

Aunt Mae’s blue eyes twinkled and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, sugar, that probably wouldn’t be too good of an idea. She’s very set in her ways. Besides, she was bedridden for a week and couldn’t travel.”

“Well, we missed you.” Allie threw her arms around Aunt Mae.

The older woman brushed back the few strands of gray hair that had come loose from her bun, fighting tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. “I missed you all.”

“Is that coffee on the stove?” Samuel asked, feeling his own emotions close to the surface—which he attributed to his exhaustion. He walked to the counter where some cups were set out and retrieved one.

As Samuel poured his coffee, he corralled his emotions and shoved them to the dark recesses of his mind. Aunt Mae had been a lifesaver after his wife died. When she had arrived on his doorstep, their lives had been in total chaos. Ruth’s death had hit him so hard that it had taken him months to see how much his children needed him. Thankfully Aunt Mae had been around to ease their sorrow, because he hadn’t been able to—something he still felt guilty about.

“Was everything all right at school with Jane?” Aunt Mae asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out the ingredients for a salad.

“Allie!” Craig’s voice echoed through the house.

His youngest daughter jumped down from the chair, scooted it back toward the table, then darted out of the kitchen.

“No doubt she hid more than Craig’s Game Boy.” Samuel shook his head as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Jane’s having trouble in English. I’m going to check on Monday to see how she’s doing in her other classes.” He took a long sip of his coffee, relishing the hot drink after being out in the cold.

“She took her mother’s death harder than the other two.”

“She was really close to Ruth.” He drank some more to ease the constriction in his throat.

“Still, something else might be going on with her, Samuel. A good prayer might help.”

There was a time he had felt that way. Now he didn’t know if that would help his daughter. He kissed his aunt on the cheek. “You have good intuition. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Shouts from above drew Samuel’s attention. “I’d better go and referee those two.”

“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

Samuel strode toward the stairs. He was the new minister of Sweetwater Community Church and he wasn’t even sure how effective prayer was. His house was still in chaos. He longed for the time he’d felt confident in the power of the Lord—before He had taken his wife and thrown his family into turmoil. He shouldn’t have taken this church assignment, but he was desperate. He wanted his old life back.



Beth took a paper cup filled with red fruit punch from the table next to the coffee urn, then backed off to allow the other parishioners to get their refreshments after the late service. Standing along the wall where all the congregation’s photos hung, she watched Samuel greet each person as they came into the rec hall. Her throat parched, she drank half the juice in several swallows. Over the past few days she had thought about the man more than she should. He and Jane had even plagued her dreams last night.

Jesse Blackburn approached with a cup of coffee. “So what do you think of our new minister?”

“Interesting sermon on redemption.”

“He’s a widower.”

“Yes, I know and, Jesse, don’t you get any ideas. As they say in the movies, I’m blowing this town come summer.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, Jesse stared at her over the rim of her cup. “You are?”

“Don’t act innocent. You know I’ve been planning this ever since Daniel decided to go to college.”

Jesse leaned back against the wall, a picture in nonchalance. “It seems I recall you saying something about a vacation.”

“It’s more than a vacation. In fact, you’ll have to do the annual Fourth of July auction this year, because I won’t be here.”

Her good friend splayed her hand across her chest. “You’re leaving me in charge?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You and Darcy will do a great job.”

“It won’t be the same without you. You’ve been doing it for the past ten or so years.”

“And I have made very good notes for you to follow.” Beth finished her punch, then crushed the paper cup into a ball. Frustration churned in her, making her feel as though she should shed her skin. “I’ll help you until May. Then you’re on your own.”

“Boswell’s a great organizer. I’ll put him on it.” Jesse straightened away from the wall. “Give the poor man something to do.”

“How’s it feel to have your own butler?”

Jesse laughed. “A bit funny, but Boswell’s more like a member of the family than anything. Now, if I could just get him and Gramps to get along. Thank goodness Gramps married Susan Reed and lives at her place.” She drained her coffee. “Are you sure you don’t want me to have a little dinner party for the new reverend?”

“I think you should have a party.”

Jesse’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“To help introduce him to the whole congregation, not just the single women.” Beth scanned the room for the man under discussion. He stood a few feet from the door, dressed in a black suit that accorded a nice contrast to his blond hair. The intent expression on his face while listening to Tanya Bolton gave Beth the impression he was a good listener, which was probably beneficial considering the needs of the people in the church. “What makes you think he’s looking for a woman?”

“The romantic in me. I just hate seeing people alone.”

“Jesse, I’m not alone. I have three siblings—who I grant you don’t live with me anymore, but are still around. And I have my friends. Reverend Morgan has three children. And I met his aunt this morning in Sunday-school class. She lives with him. That certainly isn’t alone.”

“Boy, you need a man worse than I thought if you think children and an aunt are the same thing as a spouse.”

“What are you two conspiring about?” Darcy Markham paused next to Beth, her hand at the small of her back.

Relieved at her friend’s timely interruption, Beth smiled. “When are you going to have that baby?”

“I wish any minute, but the doctor says another month. Maybe I’ll have it on my anniversary. If this child is anything like my son, he will take his sweet time. I’m not sure who is more anxious, me or Joshua.”

“I sympathize with you two, but I’m glad it’s you and not me.” Beth’s gaze caught Reverend Morgan moving away from the door and making his rounds to the various groups in the room.

“Well, I should hope so. You aren’t married,” Jesse said with a laugh.

Heat singed Beth’s cheeks. “You know what I mean. I’m too old to have children. Besides, after raising my two brothers and sister, I’m through.” After she’d turned thirty-five with no prospect of a husband, she’d given up hope of having her own children.

“Too old!” Darcy shifted her stance, rubbing her back. “You’re only thirty-eight. Beth, if that’s too old, then Jesse and I don’t have long before we’re over the hill.”

“She’s gonna be too busy traveling. She’s leaving Sweetwater this summer and has informed me that we’ll have to be in charge of the annual auction.”

“Us?” Darcy pointed to her chest, then rested her hand on her stomach.

“Yes, you two. In fact, you and your husbands are invited to a party I’m having next weekend.”

“A party? Isn’t that Jesse’s domain? You don’t give parties.”

Beth narrowed her eyes on Darcy, pressing her lips together. She had always been so predictable. That was about to change. “I am now. It’s a celebration. I’m going to choose where I’m going this summer.”

“Choose?” Jesse’s brow furrowed.

“You two will just have to wait and see how. Can I count on you all coming to the celebration?”

Both Darcy and Jesse nodded their heads, big grins on their faces.

“Celebration?”

At the sound of the deep, gruff voice behind her, Beth blinked, then swallowed to coat her suddenly dry throat while the reverend stepped into view.

“I just wanted to thank you again, Beth, for rescuing Jane and me the other day.” Samuel Morgan extended his hand toward her.

She fitted hers within his and shook it, aware of the curiosity of her two friends. “It was nothing.”

Still holding her hand, Samuel smiled, the warmth in his expression reaching deep into his chocolate-colored eyes. “So what are you celebrating?”




Chapter Two


My great escape, Beth thought, but decided not to voice that answer. “This is the celebration I told you about. I’m planning a long vacation and having a party to celebrate the fact.”

“That’s as good a reason as any to have a celebration.” Samuel finally released his hold on her hand.

“You’re invited if you want to come. It’s next Saturday night at my house.” When Beth thought she saw hesitation in his eyes, she hastened to add, “It’ll be a good way for you to get to know some of the congregation in a less formal environment.” Now, why had she said that? That had always been Jesse’s role.

“Darcy and I will be there along with our husbands.” Jesse shot a look toward Darcy that conveyed a message that Beth couldn’t see. “I’ll volunteer to help you with the preparations, Beth, since giving dinner parties is my specialty.”

Beth knew she would have to put a stop to her friend’s matchmaking scheme that she could almost see percolating in her mind. She couldn’t very well exclude the reverend after he’d overheard their discussion of her celebration. Yeah, right.

“I can help, too,” Darcy said, rubbing her stomach. “We can meet at your house for our Saturday-morning get-together instead of at Alice’s Café.”

Beth forced a smile to her lips. “Thanks,” she murmured, again noticing a nonverbal exchange between Darcy and Jesse.

“Oh, I see Nick waving to me. Got to go.” Jesse hugged Beth and Darcy goodbye and hurried away.

“And I need to sit down. I’m going to find Joshua and a quiet corner to rest in.” Darcy kissed Beth on the cheek, then nodded toward Samuel before lumbering toward her husband, who was leaning against the piano.

That was the fastest getaway her two friends had ever made. Beth made a mental note to call them and set them straight the second she got home from church. She was not looking for a man. Didn’t they know she was the plain town spinster who was a good twenty or thirty pounds overweight?

“Since that just leaves you and me, can we talk a moment in private?”

You and me. Those simple words conjured up all kinds of visions that mocked her earlier words that she wasn’t looking to date. “Sure. Is something wrong?”

Samuel gestured toward an area away from the crowd in the rec hall, an alcove with a padded bench that offered them a more quiet environment. He sat, and waited for her to do the same. She stared at the small space that allowed only two people to sit comfortably—and the reverend was a large man who took up more than his half of the bench. While she debated whether to stand or sit, a perplexed expression descended on his face. If it hadn’t been for Jesse insisting on fixing her up with Samuel, she wouldn’t be undecided about something as simple as sitting and talking with him, she thought.

With a sigh she sat, her leg and arm brushing against his. Awareness—a sensation she didn’t deal with often—bolted through her. “What do you need to discuss?”

“Jane. She won’t let me help her with her homework.” He rubbed the palms of his hands together. “I’m at a loss as to what to do with her. Any suggestions?”

“Let me see how we do tomorrow when she stays after school. At the beginning of every year I give a learning-styles inventory to see how each student learns. I haven’t had a chance to give it to Jane yet, but I will this week. I’ll know more after that.”

“Learning styles?”

“Whether she’s a visual, auditory or kinesthetic learner. Then I can use that information to teach her the way she learns best.”

“I appreciate any help you can give me. I suspect tomorrow when I talk with her other teachers I’m going to find she hasn’t done any work for them, either.”

“You said she hasn’t taken her mother’s death well. Have you considered counseling?”

“Tried that, and she wouldn’t talk to a stranger. She just sat there, most of the time not saying a word.”

“How about someone she knows?”

“Aunt Mae has tried and Jane just clammed up.” He rubbed his thumb into his palm. “I’ve tried and haven’t done much better. Jane has always been an introvert. She doesn’t express her emotions much.”

“Let me see what I can do,” Beth said, knowing she didn’t have long before she would be gone. Four months might not be long enough to establish a relationship with the teenager and get her to open up about what was bothering her. She would encourage Jane to go to the school counselor. Zoey Witherspoon was very good at her job.

Samuel rose. “I appreciate any help,” he repeated. “I’m a desperate dad.”

“I hear that frequently. I teach fifteen-year-olds who have raging hormones. They fluctuate between being a child and an adult, from being dependent on their parents to being independent of them.”

“I was a teenager once, not that long ago, but frankly it didn’t prepare me for dealing with my daughter. I think I might have a better handle on Craig when he becomes a teenager.” He chuckled. “At least I hope so, since that’s only a year away.”

“I know what you mean. I raised two brothers and a sister. My sister was easier for me. I struggled with Daniel, my youngest brother. I’m surprised he made it through high school. He failed several subjects and had to go to school a semester longer than his classmates. I will say I saw him grow up a lot in the past six months. I think watching all his friends go off to college last summer while he had to return to high school sobered him and made him aware of some of the mistakes he’d made.”

Samuel placed a hand on her arm. “Thank you.”

The touch of his fingers seared her. She knew she was overreacting to the gesture, but she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding against her chest. She was afraid its loud thumping could be heard across the rec hall. Even before she’d begun raising her siblings she hadn’t dated much. She was plain and shy, not two aspects that drew scores of men.

“You’re welcome,” she finally answered, her lips, mouth and throat dry. And she had been the one to invite him to her party next Saturday night.



Jane slammed the book closed. “How are you supposed to look a word up in the dictionary when you don’t have any idea how to spell it?” She slouched back in her desk, defiance in her expression.

Beth glanced up from grading a paper. “What word?”

“Perspective.”

“How do you think you spell it?”

“I don’t know!” The girl’s frustration etched a deep frown into her features.

Beth rose and came around her desk to stand next to Jane’s. “What do you think it starts with?”

“I don’t—” Jane’s eyes narrowed, and she looked toward the window. “With a p.” Her gaze returned to Beth’s. “But there are thousands of words that start with p.”

“Let’s start with the first syllable. Per.”

“P-r—” Jane pinched her lips together, her brows slashing downward.

“Almost. It’s p-e-r. What do you think comes next? Perspective.”

Jane leaned forward, folding her arms over the dictionary. “At this rate I’ll get one paragraph written by this time tomorrow. What’s the use?”

“I have a dictionary of commonly misspelled words. I can lend it to you. It might help with some of the words. If it does, you can get your own copy. See if you can find it by looking up p-e-r-s-p.” Beth knew it would be a lot faster and easier on everyone if she spelled the word completely for Jane, but she wanted to see how the teenager did. She had a feeling a lot more was going on with the young woman. Not only did she have few word attack skills, but she read with difficulty.

Jane blew out a breath and flipped the dictionary open, thumbing through the pages until she found the p section. With only a handful of selections to choose from, Jane pointed and said, “There.” She pushed the dictionary to the side and wrote down the word, grumbling about the time it had taken to find it.

Beth made her way back to her desk. Jane had been struggling with the writing assignment for an hour. The past few days working with her after school had sent red flags waving concerning Jane’s academic ability. Beth decided that when Samuel came to pick up his daughter she would have a talk with him about Jane.

Not ten minutes later Beth knew the instant Samuel appeared in the doorway. As though she had a sixth sense when it came to the man, she looked up to find him smiling at her from across the room. A dimple appeared in his left cheek, drawing Beth’s attention.

The second Jane saw him she finished the sentence she had been writing and gathered up her papers. She started to slide from the desk.

“Are you through, Jane?” Samuel asked, entering.

His presence seemed to shrink the large classroom to the size of a small closet, and for the life of her, Beth couldn’t understand why her pulse began to race. She suddenly worried that she looked as if she had spent the whole day in front of 150 students trying to inspire them to love literature—which she had. She felt even plainer, and wheeled her chair closer to her desk to shield her rather drab dress of gray cotton that didn’t quite hide her extra pounds. Maybe she should buy a few new outfits, more updated with some splashes of color, she thought.

“Yes.” Jane rose and brought the paper to Beth’s desk. After plopping it down, she headed for the door. “I’m getting a drink of water and going to my locker.”

The tension that churned the air left with Jane. Samuel watched his daughter disappear through the doorway before he turned toward Beth with one brow arched.

“This writing assignment was very difficult for her.” Beth picked up Jane’s paper and skimmed it. “And from the looks of it, she doesn’t have a firm background in grammar, punctuation and spelling. Her thoughts on the subject are good ones, but she has a hard time getting them down on paper.”

Samuel covered the distance between them and hovered in front of Beth’s desk—way too close for her peace of mind. The dimple in his left cheek vanished as he frowned.

“What are you telling me?” He took Jane’s paper and began to read.

“I think Jane needs to be tested to see if she has a learning disability.”

His head shot up, his gaze riveted to hers. “A learning disability!”

“A learning disability doesn’t mean that Jane isn’t smart. People with normal, even high, IQs can have a learning disability that hinders them learning what they need to know. How’s she doing in her other classes?”

“Not well except for geometry. She’s got an A in that class. That and advanced drawing.”

“Is she doing the work for the other teachers?”

“No. The same as yours. I’m trying to help her every night. She can’t do anything until she gets her homework done, which basically takes her the whole evening. The Morgan household has not been a fun one this past week. I feel more like a drill sergeant than a father.”

Disregarding how she imagined she looked, Beth stood, feeling at a disadvantage sitting behind her desk. She came around beside Samuel, wanting to help, to comfort. “I think she struggles with the reading part. When I gave her the learning-styles inventory, she tested almost completely a visual learner. So much of the work in high school is from lectures. I’m not sure she’s getting it. Her auditory skills seem to be weak.”

“Then what do I need to do?”

“Sign permission for her to be tested. I’ll refer her and our school psychologist will contact you.”

“I don’t know how well Jane will take this.”

Beth touched his arm, the urge to comfort growing stronger the longer she was around this man. There was something about him that conveyed a troubled soul, and she had never been able to turn away from someone in need. “This can all be handled without the other students knowing.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

As his gaze locked with hers, Beth forgot where she was for a moment. Finally when she shook off the effect he had on her senses, she said, “You always have a choice. But if she’s having trouble reading it’s better to know now than later.”

“You don’t think it’s normal teenage rebellion?”

“No. I think she’s using her defiant attitude as a way to cover up not knowing.”

“Then refer her.”

“Do you want me to talk to Jane about what I’m doing?”

“No, that’s my job. I’ll talk with her on the way home. I don’t want her to be surprised.”

“I’ll be glad to help any way I can.”

Again his gaze snared hers, drawing her in. “You’ve already done so much.”

“Dad, aren’t you coming?” Framed in the doorway, Jane slung her backpack over her left shoulder.

“Yes. I’ll be by this time tomorrow to pick her up.”

Samuel left the classroom, with his daughter walking ahead of him at a fast clip. When he stepped outside, the brisk winter air blasted him in the face. Snow still blanketed the ground, but the roads had been cleared. He found his daughter in the passenger seat of his Ford Mustang, her eyes closed, her head resting against the cushion. For a few seconds he took in her calm expression, which of late was rare, and regretted the conversation to come. But Jane needed to know what was going to happen.

Samuel started the car and drove out of the school parking lot. Lord, I know I haven’t visited with You as I should. But I need help with Jane. Please help me to find the right words to explain about the testing. Please help me to understand what is happening with my daughter.

“What were you and Miss Coleman talking about?” Jane sat up, watching the landscape out the side window.

He took a deep, composing breath. “She wants to refer you for testing and I told her to go ahead.”

Jane twisted toward him. “Testing? What kind?”

“She thinks you’re struggling to read and that you might have a learning disability.”

“I’m not dumb!”

“She didn’t say that and I’m not, either. Your A in geometry proves that. But something’s going on, Jane. Don’t you want to find out what it is?”

“I’m not dumb!” Tears glistened in his daughter’s eyes.

Shaken by the sight of her tears, Samuel parked his car in his driveway. Jane rarely cried. He started to reach for her to comfort her, but she glared at him. Swiping the back of her hand across her cheeks, she shoved the door open, bolted from the car and ran toward the house.

He gripped the steering wheel and let his head sag until it touched the cold plastic. He hadn’t handled that well. Like everything else the past few years, he was fumbling to find the correct path. He felt as though he were lost in the desert, wandering around trying to find the promised land.



“I’m so glad you could come a little early.” Beth held open the door and stepped to the side to allow Jesse into her house.

“Am I imagining things or was that panic in your voice a little while ago?” Jesse asked, following her through the living room into the dining room.

“You know I don’t entertain much. I don’t even know why I decided to have this party. I’ve got the house clean. That was easy. But do I have enough food for everyone?” Beth gestured toward the table that could seat eight if the leaf was in it, which it was.

Jesse’s eyes grew round. “What color is the tablecloth? I can’t tell. You’ve got so much food on it.”

“Are you trying to tell me I overdid it?”

“How many people did you invite? The whole congregation plus the staff you work with?”

“I don’t want anyone going hungry.”

“Believe me, if they do, they have an eating disorder.”

Beth scanned the table laden with three cakes, two pies, several dozen cookies and brownies, vegetable and fruit trays with two different dips each, several kinds of small sandwiches without the crust, crackers and chips with assorted spreads and a cheese ball. “I had to put the drinks in the kitchen. I ran out of room.”

Jesse snatched up a carrot stick and took a bite. “So how many people are coming?”

“Besides you and Nick, Darcy and Joshua, there are the reverend, Tanya Bolton, Zoey Witherspoon, Paul Howard and Boswell.”

“Boswell? He didn’t say anything to me about coming.”

“I saw him at the grocery yesterday when I was buying some of the food and thought he might enjoy coming. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, especially since Nate and Cindy are over at Gramps and Susan’s. I’m glad Boswell’s getting out. I’ve felt guilty about uprooting him from Chicago. He promises me that he doesn’t mind living in Sweetwater, but I’m not sure I believe him.” Jesse popped a potato chip into her mouth. “What do you want me to help you with?”

Beth twirled. “Do I look all right?”

“Why, Beth Coleman, I’ve never known you to care too much about how you look.”

Regretting that she had given in to her panic and called Jesse for advice, Beth started toward the kitchen. She realized she was plain, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about how she appeared to others. Come on, Beth, don’t you really mean Samuel Morgan?

“You can wipe that smug smile off your face, Jesse. I just didn’t want to be overdressed.”

Jesse stopped Beth’s progress with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be serious. Turn around.”

Beth faced her friend, her hands on her waist, now hoping she could pull off an “I don’t care” attitude.

With a finger against her chin, Jesse studied her. “Black jeans with a cream silk blouse. Not bad. New blouse?”

The heat of a blush scored Beth’s cheeks. “Yes. I haven’t bought anything new in months.” And except for an occasional treat to herself for Christmas and her birthday, she purchased only the basic necessities she needed for school. While her siblings had been growing up, clothing had been expensive, not to mention later helping with their college tuition.

Holding up her hands, Jesse took a step back. “Stop right there. I’m glad you’re finally doing something for yourself and not just for your brothers and sister. It’s about time.” Her gaze skimmed the length of Beth once more. “Deep-six the tennis shoes. Heels would be better with what you have on.”

“Tennis shoes go with jeans.”

“But heels will look better with your blouse, which is soft and feminine. Don’t you have a black pair we got last year?”

“They’re awfully dressy. This is a casual party.”

Jesse flipped her hand in the air, dismissing Beth’s concerns. “You’ll be casually elegant.”

The sound of the doorbell cut through the sudden silence.

Beads of perspiration popped out on Beth’s upper lip. She didn’t give parties. Why had she come up with this way to kick off her new outlook on life? Bad, bad idea.

Jesse waved her toward her bedroom. “Go. I’ll get the door. I don’t want to see those tennis shoes.”

Wiping her hand across her upper lip, Beth hurried away, wondering if she could hide for at least an hour in her bedroom. She would have been fine with just Darcy, Joshua, Jesse and Nick. She could have convinced herself that this wasn’t a party she was responsible for, but the additional five people made a mockery out of that thought.

While rifling through the bottom of her closet for the box that held her black heels, she heard laughter coming from her living room and the doorbell chiming again. When she finally found the shoes, stuck way in the back, she examined them, unable to believe she had bought them. It was Jesse’s fault. She’d worn them only once—to Darcy’s wedding. Jesse had been with her when she had purchased them. In fact, Jesse had been the one who had insisted she buy them. On her own she never would have, and still couldn’t believe she’d let Jesse talk her into them. Beth held them up, still debating whether to wear the silk-and-leather heels. They were three inches high—two more than she usually wore—with long pointed toes and no back strap. They looked uncomfortable, but actually—much to her surprise when she had tried them on at the store—they were very comfortable.

When the bell announced another arrival, Beth kicked off her tennis shoes and removed her socks, then donned the black heels. She didn’t dare look at herself in her full-length mirror. She knew she wouldn’t leave the room if she did. Hurrying as quickly as possible in her heels, she came into the foyer as Jesse opened the door to another guest—Reverend Samuel Morgan.

He peered past Jesse toward Beth and for the barest moment his eyes flashed surprise. The hammering of her heart increased, worry nibbling at her composure. What did she look like? She’d tried some new makeup she’d gotten at the grocery store yesterday and had left her curly hair down about her shoulders, probably in a wild mess by now. She wanted to whirl around, go back to her bedroom and check her appearance in her full-length mirror.

Then he smiled and her world tilted for a few seconds.

After murmuring a greeting to Jesse, Samuel came toward Beth, his long strides purposeful as if he were a man on a mission. “Thank you for including me in your celebration.” He clasped her hand between his and shook it. “I haven’t had a chance to do much since moving here. As you suggested, it’ll be nice to meet some of my congregation in a relaxed atmosphere.”

Relaxed atmosphere? There was nothing remotely relaxed about her at the moment. “I’m glad you could come.” Her hand was still sandwiched between his. Suddenly she didn’t feel thirty-eight but a young woman of eighteen, inexperienced but eager to learn the ways of dating. That was not to say she hadn’t dated a few men over the years, but most of her time had been taken up with caring for her siblings and trying to make ends meet, first as a college student and then on the meager pay of a teacher. She definitely felt like a novice.

Finally releasing her hand, Samuel peeked into the living room, which also gave him a view of the dining-room table loaded with food. “Is everyone here?”

Beth scanned the small group of friends and nodded. “I like to cook and I just kept preparing food until I ran out of time.” She actually had missed not cooking for others since Daniel had left for college.

“I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat dinner before coming.”

“So am I. I don’t know what I’m going to do with this after you all leave.”

“Freeze it,” Jesse said, approaching them.

“I don’t have a big enough freezer. You all are going to have to take some home with you.”

“Did I hear correctly? We’ll be taking doggie bags home with us?” Joshua asked, helping Darcy onto the couch.

Darcy laughed, shifting to get as comfortable as possible for a woman eight months pregnant. “I still haven’t mastered the art of cooking, and poor Liz and Dad get tired of us coming to eat with them at the farm.”

Joshua sat next to his wife and took her hand. “She’s become quite good with one or two dishes. Sean and I don’t order pizza nearly like we used to.”

Darcy playfully punched Joshua on the arm. “I’m not that bad. I can prepare more than one or two.”

Beth leaned close to Samuel, and immediately realized her mistake when she got a whiff of his citrusy aftershave. “Yes, she is. Just remember that when planning anything having to do with food at the church.”

“I heard that, Beth Coleman. I thought you were my friend.”

The laughter in Darcy’s voice took the sting out of her words. “I’ll give you two doggie bags, Joshua.”

“Thanks. You’re a good woman, Beth.”

She was used to the ribbing among her and her friends, but with Samuel next to her, she couldn’t help feeling as though she were on stage in front of a whole group of strangers. And that was something she avoided at all costs. She was a behind-the-scenes kind of person, never wanting to be in the limelight like Jesse and even Darcy.

“Please, everyone get a plate and eat. The drinks are in the kitchen,” Beth announced, aware of Samuel’s every move next to her. She felt his gaze on her and wanted to escape. She knew both Jesse and Darcy would never allow her to. This was why she didn’t give parties, she remembered—too late.

“I believe you know everyone here, Samuel.” Beth gestured toward her guests. “I need to see if there’s enough ice for the drinks.” She practically ran from the man, making a beeline for the kitchen and, she hoped, time to regroup. If she had thought this party thing through, she would have invited at least half a dozen more people, she thought. She was afraid Jesse would begin to pair everyone off and find there was no one for Samuel except either Tanya or her.

In the kitchen Boswell placed ice into his glass from the bucket that Beth had already filled. He glanced toward her when she entered.

“Do you have everything you need?” she asked, relieved he was the only one in the room.

Jesse and Nick’s British manservant poured diet soda into his glass. “I swore I would never drink this stuff, but alas, the pounds are beginning to show. I can’t believe I’ve been forced to this.”

Beth suppressed a smile. “There’s always water.”

“You have bottled water?”

“Well, no. But the water from the tap is fine.”

Horror flitted across his face. “I’ll drink this.”

As he left, Beth said, “And don’t forget to eat. I’m sure there’s something on the table that isn’t fattening.”

The second he was gone, Beth released a long sigh, relishing the quiet of the kitchen. Then the door swung open and Tanya entered. “I almost ran into Boswell. If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, he would have dropped his drink.”

“I’d better prop the door open or there’ll be an accident.”

While Tanya sailed past her to the counter where the drinks were, Beth retrieved a brick she used when she wanted to leave the swinging door open between the kitchen and the dining room. As she straightened from placing it at the base of the door, she took a step back and collided with a solid wall of flesh. The scent of citrus drifted to her, and she knew Samuel was behind her.

She fixed a smile on her face and turned. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got sodas, iced tea, decaf coffee and fruit punch. And of course, there’s water.” Nerves stretched taut, she listened to herself speak so fast she wondered if Samuel even understood what she said. He looked a little dazed. “Oh, and I forgot. I have hot apple cider on the stove,” she added a lot more slowly.

“That sounds nice. But I can get it.”

Tanya breezed by. “Beth, I’m filling in for Darcy in her Sunday-school class until after the baby comes.”

“Great,” Beth said to Tanya’s back as she disappeared into the dining room.

“She has so much energy.” Samuel followed Beth to the stove and watched her ladle a steaming cup of apple cider into a blue ceramic mug.

“That’s Tanya.” She poured some cider for herself.

Samuel leaned back against the counter and took a tentative sip of his drink, surveying the kitchen. “I like your home. Very cozy.”

“And small. Not now, but when my brothers and sister lived here, we met ourselves coming and going. One bathroom and four people isn’t what I call an ideal situation.” She was chattering again—most uncharacteristic.

“You raised all your siblings?” Samuel appeared relaxed and comfortable as though he was going to stay a while. He crossed his legs at the ankles and grasped the edge of the counter with one hand.

Dressed in black slacks and a striped gray-and-maroon shirt, he filled her kitchen with his large presence, someone who quietly commanded people’s attention. She still marveled that he was a minister, when he looked more like a linebacker or a well-trained soldier. Did he work out? That question surprised her and made her gasp.

Samuel cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, berating herself for the folly of her thoughts. “Forgot something.” My brain, she thought, realizing she hadn’t really lied to her preacher.

“Can I help?”

“No, everything’s under control.” Just as soon as I stop thinking about you. “To answer your question, yes, I raised my brothers and sister. I was nineteen when my mother died in childbirth, and I wasn’t going to let the state take them away from our home, such as it is.”

“Where was your father?”

She should have realized he would ask that question. She bit the inside of her mouth, trying to transfer the mental pain she felt when her father was mentioned to a physical one instead. It didn’t work. Even after nineteen years her father’s abandonment bored into her heart, leaving a gaping hole she wasn’t sure would ever totally heal. “He left us when my mother was six months pregnant with their fourth child. He walked out one day and we never heard from him again.”

Samuel straightened from the counter. “I’m sorry. I know how inadequate those words can be at times, but it’s never easy when a parent abandons a child.”

“That’s why I would never abandon my brothers and sister to let some stranger raise them.”

“That was quite a task to take on by yourself at nineteen. You didn’t have any relatives to help you?”

“We’re a small family. My father had an uncle who tried to help some when he could, but he was old and set in his ways. Both of my parents were only children. My mother used to say that’s why she wanted a houseful of kids. I guess my father didn’t feel that way.” The intense pressure in her chest made each breath difficult. She drew in several deep gulps of air, but nothing seemed to relieve the constriction. She hadn’t thought about her father in a long time—most people knew it was a subject she didn’t discuss.

“I can see I’ve distressed you.” He took a step toward her, reaching to touch her arm in comfort.

She backed up against the refrigerator, feeling trapped by the kindness in his expression. “You would think I’d be over it after nineteen years.”

His arm fell to his side. “No, I don’t know if a child ever totally gets over a parent walking out on her. It’s hard enough on a child when one parent dies. Even though the parent doesn’t choose to die, the child still experiences abandonment.”

“Not just the child but the spouse, too.”

The air vibrated with suppressed tension, the focus of the conversation shifting.

For a few seconds a haunted look dimmed his dark eyes, then he managed to veil his expression by lowering his lashes. “Yes.”




Chapter Three


“You know, in here—” Samuel tapped the side of his head “—I know that my wife didn’t choose to leave us. But in here—” he splayed his hand over his heart “—it doesn’t make any difference. Pain is pain.”

Beth swallowed the tightness swelling in her throat. “I think Jane’s feeling the same emotions.”

“I know she is. She was very close to Ruth and took her death especially hard.”

But not as hard as you, Beth thought, seeing his anguish reflected in the depths of his eyes.

“Then we moved not long after that happened, and that was when I decided to resign from the army. Moving around was becoming too hard on my family, especially without their mother.”

“What made you become a chaplain in the army?”

“I wanted to serve my country and God. I thought I could do it by being an army chaplain.”

“But now you don’t think so?” She’d heard the doubt in his voice and wondered about it.

“I discovered you can’t serve two masters—at least, not me.” He turned away and walked to the stove to refill his mug.

The sight of his back, his shoulders stiff with tension, told Beth that topic of conversation was finished. She could respect that. There were a lot of things she wouldn’t discuss with others, and she and Samuel were practically strangers.

Even though the last thing she felt like doing at the moment was smiling, she did, needing to lighten the mood. “Tanya reminded me of something we’ll need to talk about soon.”

He threw her a glance over his shoulder, then slowly pivoted. “What?”

“I run the Sunday School, and since I’ll be leaving in the summer, we should discuss a replacement so I can train that person this spring.” She found if she voiced her plans out loud the reality of leaving Sweetwater became more real.

“Nothing like the present.”

“Here? Now?”

“Well, not exactly right this minute, but how about next week some time? Why don’t you come to Friday-night dinner at my house? Aunt Mae goes all out that night. For some reason she thinks we should celebrate the end of a work week. I don’t think she understands I do a lot of my work on the weekend. But it’s something she’s done for years and I didn’t have the heart to change it when she came to live with us.”

“I hate to intrude on a family evening.”

“Nonsense. If I entertain, it’s usually then.” Samuel sipped his cider, his gaze intent upon her.

The refrigerator still propped her up. Beth pushed away, surprised by the trembling in her legs—as though their conversation had affected her more than she cared to admit. “What time?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Fine.” She hoped she could stay awake long enough to hold an intelligent conversation. Friday nights were usually her crash night after a long week of teaching. She often would wake up around eleven, having fallen asleep in front of the television and having no idea what had been on the set earlier in the evening. “Speaking of celebrations, I think it’s time I threw my dart.”

“You really are going to decide where you go by throwing a dart?”

The incredulous tone of his voice made her laugh. “Yup.”

Beth walked through the dining room, encouraging everyone to have a seat in the living room. Her nine guests crowded into the small area, with Jesse sitting on the arm of the lounge chair that Nick occupied and Tanya on the floor next to the sofa.

Beth went into the foyer and retrieved from the closet a tagboard and one dart. “As you can see, this is a map of Central and South America. I’m planning a trip and tonight I’m deciding where. I’d ask someone to hold the board up, but I’m afraid I might be a bit wild with the dart, so instead I’ll position it on the rocking chair if Zoey doesn’t mind standing for a moment—unless you want to hold it.”

Her friend from school stopped rocking and leaped from the chair, horror on her face. “I’ll pass. I’ve seen you play sports.” To the group she added, “I would suggest everyone give her plenty of room. No telling where the dart will end up. I can remember the church softball game where she hit me and I wasn’t anywhere near where she intended to throw the ball.”

“Oh, yeah. You had a bruise on your leg for weeks after that,” Darcy said, scooting closer to Joshua on the couch so Zoey could sit next to her.

Beth positioned herself in front of the tagboard, then turned around to her guests. “Hence the warning.”

Several nearest her backed away. Beth squared off in front of the rocking chair, squeezed her eyes closed and tossed the dart. It clanged to the tile floor in the foyer.

“If you miss the map, does that mean you stay, Beth?” asked Paul Howard, an assistant principal at her school.

She started toward the dart. Samuel picked it up first and handed it to her. Their gazes touched for a long moment, humor deep in his eyes. She liked the way they crinkled at the corners. She liked their color—it reminded her of a piece of dark, rich chocolate that she loved to eat.

“No,” she murmured, suddenly aware of the silence in the room. “It only means I try again.”

Boswell and Paul moved back even farther. Half the room was clear for her next shot. Beth shook her head, closed her eyes and threw the dart without really giving it much thought, still rattled by the silent exchange a moment before with Samuel. It plunked into the tagboard. She eased one eye open and saw the dart in the middle of the map.

“Brazil.” Zoey came to stand beside her and stare at the map. “Guess you’d better get some Portuguese tapes instead of the Spanish ones.”

“The Amazon. How do you like heat and humidity?” Paul asked, stepping next to Zoey.

“Not to mention snakes and other unpleasant animals. Are you going to throw again?” Jesse flanked her on the other side.

With so much of South America being taken up by the Amazon, why am I surprised the dart landed there? Beth wondered. “No, I’m not going to throw again. Brazil it will be.”



A mild “heat” wave had tempered the bitter cold of the past few weeks, pushing the temperature up to near fifty. But with dusk approaching quickly, the air began to chill and the sun was low behind the trees. Beth paused on her porch and looked across her brown lawn, the drabness fitting her mood perfectly. Her feet ached from standing more than usual that week at school and her mind felt muddled from the late nights she’d spent grading writing assignments until her eyes had crossed and the words had blurred.

All she wanted to do was collapse into her soft velour lounge chair, switch on her television for background noise and stare unseeing at the screen. Do nothing. For once. But this was Friday and she had told Samuel she would come to dinner. With a heavy sigh, she stuck her key into the lock and opened her front door.

A noise from the back of the house alerted her that someone was inside. She tensed, her hand clenched around the knob.

“Beth, is that you?”

Relief sagged her body against the door. Daniel was home from college. “Yes.”

Her youngest brother came down the hall, drying his hair with a blue towel, wearing a pair of jeans slung low. “I just took a shower and was getting dressed to go out.”

She managed to close the front door without slamming it, a remarkable feat of patience when she didn’t think she had any left. “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.”

“I caught a ride with Mitch. He’s taking me back on Sunday, too, so you don’t need to.”

“Oh.” Her exhausted mind couldn’t come up with anything else to say while she stared at her brother.

He hung the towel over his shoulder. “In fact, he’ll be by in fifteen minutes. We’re going to Pete’s.”

She refrained from saying “oh” again by mashing her lips together.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll tell you about my classes then.” He turned and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.

Beth watched him disappear, irritated at herself because she was irritated at Daniel for not telling her he was coming home for the weekend. She should be happy—and she was—but he had a way of taking over the whole house. To emphasize her thought, loud music blared from his room, chasing away the silence she desired after a day spent listening to 150 students.

When she placed her stuffed briefcase and purse on the table in the foyer, she noticed the mail that Daniel must have brought into the house. On top was an envelope from the Christian Mission Institute. She tore into it with a jolt of energy. A letter welcoming her interest in their overseas program and an application caused her hands to tremble. When she filled this out, she’d be one step closer.

As she stared at the application, an image of Samuel came into her mind—of a look of vulnerability that she had seen beneath his confident surface. A man in need of a friend. Surprised by that thought, she put the letter and application on the table next to her purse. She would deal with it later when she wasn’t so tired, when she wasn’t picturing a man who shouldn’t send her heart pounding with a smile.

Beth walked to the kitchen to find a drink with some caffeine in it. She rummaged around in the refrigerator, positive that she’d had one cola left. Nothing. She scanned the counter and discovered the empty can by the sink along with a dirty plate and fork. Daniel.

For a brief moment she thought of making a pot of coffee and drinking it all, but decided instead to take a cool shower. Maybe that would help keep her awake while having dinner at Samuel’s. Then she again visualized the handsome reverend and knew she wouldn’t have any trouble staying awake, because for the past few weeks he’d haunted her dreams when she’d finally fallen asleep.

Why now? She’d never been particularly interested in a man to the point she dreamed about him.

She wasn’t getting enough rest. That had to be it. Shaking her head as if that would rid her mind of the man, she started for her bedroom. Passing the laundry room, she caught sight of a huge mound of clothes thrown on its floor and covering most of it. Daniel. Now she knew her brother’s real reason for coming home. He hadn’t done any laundry since she’d dropped him off three weeks ago. Flipping on the light, she picked up a dark shirt that reeked of smoke and cologne and waded through the pile of clothes to the washer. She dropped it in, followed by another and another.



Finished with his sermon for the coming Sunday, Samuel pushed back his chair at his desk in his office and began to rise when a knock sounded at his door. “Yes?”

Tanya Bolton strode into the room. “Do you have a few minutes to talk to me?”

The troubled expression in her eyes prompted Samuel to say, “Yes, of course. What’s wrong?” He gestured toward a chair.

Her eyes took on a misty look as she fought tears. She sank into the chair next to his desk. “Tom has been hurt.”

“Tom?”

“My husband.” Tanya folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. “He’s in prison for arson. A while back he was caught burning barns in the area.” She lifted her gaze to his. “He’s a good man, really. He just went a little crazy after our daughter’s accident. As you know, Crystal is in a wheelchair. She fell from a horse and became paralyzed. He blamed all horses after that.”

“How was he hurt?” Samuel asked, realizing there was so much he didn’t know about his congregation and that this put him at a disadvantage when dealing with his parishioners’ problems.

“An inmate attacked him and stabbed him. He’s in the infirmary. The doctor says he’ll be okay, but, Reverend Morgan, I’m worried. Lately Tom has said he doesn’t want me to come visit him anymore. He’s never let our daughter come. I don’t know what to do.” Tanya twisted her hands together, the sheen of tears visible in her eyes. “I’m so afraid for Tom, my daughter, myself. What should I do?”

The question he most feared was spoken. There had been a time when Samuel had always had a ready answer, had been sure of the advice he’d given. Now he felt as though he was fumbling around in the dark, most often stumbling and falling.

“He needs me now more than ever and he won’t see me.” A tear slipped from Tanya’s eye.

Lord, help me to say and do the right thing, Samuel prayed, aware of the silence that shouldn’t have filled the office. Tanya stared at him, waiting for an answer to her problem.

“Sometimes we have to honor a person’s wishes even when we don’t think they are good for them. Have you prayed for guidance?”

Tanya nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

Panic took hold of Samuel. Counseling was a natural part of his job, but since his wife’s death he’d felt inadequate, now more than ever. How could he counsel another when he couldn’t help himself?

Samuel offered his hands to Tanya. “Let’s pray together.”

Tanya took his hands and bowed her head.

Samuel began to pray, hoping the words would soothe a troubled soul.



Beth fingered the tortoiseshell clip that held her riotous damp hair pulled back. A few strands of her unruly mop had come loose and curled about her face. Long ago she’d given up trying to control it, and spending hours straightening it seemed like a waste of time, time she’d never had for herself. Peering down at her black jeans and heavy black-and-white sweater, she satisfied herself she was ready to ring the bell. She’d done all she could to make herself presentable in her rush to be on time for dinner, but there wasn’t much she could do with her plain features. She’d started to press the buzzer when the door swept open and warmth enveloped her.

The bright lights of his foyer framed Samuel, throwing his face into the shadows, but Beth saw the smile of greeting. The welcome in his expression rivaled the warmth emanating from his house, drawing her in out of the cold.

“I hope I’m not too late. My brother unexpectedly arrived home from college with tons of laundry to be done this weekend. I wanted to get a jump start on it.”

“He doesn’t do his own?” After she stepped across the threshold, Samuel closed the front door behind Beth.

“His one attempt turned half his white underwear and T-shirts pink and cost a small fortune to replace.” She winced at the defensive tone in her voice and tried to temper it with a grin. “It just seemed easier to do it myself. Less hassle.”





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