Книга - Small-Town Dreams and The Girl Next Door: Small-Town Dreams / The Girl Next Door

Small-Town Dreams and The Girl Next Door: Small-Town Dreams / The Girl Next Door
Kate Welsh


SMALL-TOWN DREAMSPreacher Josh Daniels lives in the present. Then he meets Cassidy Jamison. Before long, he begins to yearn for a future he fears is impossible. But fate brought this big-city girl into this tiny town for a reason. And with Josh's help, Cassidy just might find what she truly wants–a home for her heart.THE GIRL NEXT DOOR After an accident destroys his Olympic dreams, Jeff Carrington feels lost and bitter. Still, Hope Taggert won't give up on the man she's loved all her life. Restoring Jeff's faith takes patience and determination, but with God's help, anything is possible.









Praise for Kate Welsh and her novels


“Small-Town Dreams, by Kate Welsh, opens with a great hook that draws you from the beginning to the end, delivering believable characters and a very good read in between.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“The Girl Next Door is probably one of Kate Welsh’s best. Her dialogue, imagery and characters were so real it was almost like watching a movie. Well done!”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“In Abiding Love, Kate Welsh tells the compelling story of a troubled teen and the two people trying to get him back on track.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Strong, impressive, emotional writing permeates Their Forever Love by Kate Welsh.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews




Small-Town Dreams

&

The Girl Next Door

Kate Welsh










CONTENTS


SMALL-TOWN DREAMS

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue




KATE WELSH


is a two-time winner of Romance Writers of America’s coveted Golden Heart


Award and was a finalist for RWA’s RITA


Award in 1999. Kate lives in Havertown, Pennsylvania, with her husband of over thirty years. When not at work in her home office creating stories and the characters that populate them, Kate fills her time in other creative outlets. There are few crafts she hasn’t tried at least once, or a sewing project that hasn’t been a delicious temptation. Those ideas she can’t resist grace her home or those of friends and family.

As a child she often lost herself in creating make-believe worlds and happily-ever-after tales. Kate turned back to creating happy endings when her husband challenged her to write down the stories in her head. With Jesus so much a part of her life, Kate found it natural to incorporate Him in her writing. Her goal is to entertain her readers with wholesome stories of the love between two people the Lord has brought together, and to teach His truths while she entertains.



Small-Town Dreams


Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

—Matthew 11:28


To Mother,

In any language there is no more loving and important word than Mother. Mothers love and nurture us from the day we are conceived. They teach us how to go on in life from the day we are born. They are the cornerstone of the family. When we falter, they patch up our cuts and bruises—even those that don’t show—and send us back into the world to earn our place. Thanks for the years of love and support.




Chapter One


Cassidy Jamison stared at her grandfather and only one word came to her mind. Betrayal.

“Naming Jonathan Reed as the next vice president of Information Systems wasn’t an easy task. We had several excellent candidates but…”

Cassidy saw her grandfather’s mouth moving as he heaped praise on his new vice president, but the buzzing in her ears drowned out the actual words.

She was honest enough with herself to admit that Jon had worked hard, too, and that he would make a good VP. But she would have done just as good a job, and she had worked just as hard as he had. Harder, in fact! Cassidy hadn’t taken a vacation since joining the company out of business school six years earlier. The Mickey Mouse ears perched atop Jon’s monitor were a constant reminder that he and his family had flown off to Disney World last year while she’d worked a seventy-hour week to keep ahead of the problems that he’d been able to leave behind.

But even that didn’t bother her all that much. What hurt, what felt as if it had crushed her spirit, was that her grandfather had broken his word. He had promised the promotion to her.

She heard a door shut firmly and she blinked, looking around. The meeting was apparently over, and she and the all-powerful Winston Jamison were alone in his oak-paneled office.

“You made your surprise evident,” he snapped.

Cassidy stood and smoothed the straight skirt of her dress-for-success, navy power suit. At five-foot-nine she was easily able to look him in the eye without looking up—the very reason she’d stood.

“Surprise, Grandfather?” Cassidy arched an eyebrow, an action stolen directly from the man before her. “That’s all I gave away? Then I did rather well, don’t you think? Because what I felt was shock! No! Call it what it is—betrayal.”

Her grandfather ran his fingers through his impeccably styled hair. “This is business, Cassidy. Not betrayal. And it was the most difficult decision I’ve ever made.”

“Business? You set me up! You told me that vice presidency was mine. I’ve worked practically around the clock since Harold Overton died. No one has put in more time or seen to it that their teams completed more projects on time than I have.”

Winston Jamison nodded his head, his white hair gleaming in the sunlight that streamed in his office window. “That’s all true but there were other considerations.”

“What other considerations? Dedication? Education?” she asked, knowing full well she was ahead in those areas, as well. She’d carried two majors trying to please him and herself at the same time.

“Jon is a family man. He’s stable. Trustworthy—”

“And I’m not trustworthy?”

Her grandfather looked pained. “No, of course I trust you. It was a judgment call. That’s all. You’ll just have to accept that.”

“Accept that my own grandfather lied to me. Accept that he played fast and loose with a solemn promise as well as the truth. You know, Grandfather, if you treated any other employee the way you have me, you’d be in court faster than a lightning strike can fry a PC.”

Winston’s eyes widened and his face grew red. “Are you threatening me, young lady?” His tone was one she recognized. She had heard it for twenty years, each and every time he needed to haul out the big guns to manipulate her into compliance with his will. His expression was the same.

Disapproving.

Judgmental.

“Don’t try that attitude and tone with me. It won’t work this time,” she growled and leaned her hands on his desk, which put her practically nose to nose with her new nemesis. “Who was it you called the morning Harold died? Who had to cancel her vacation immediately to take over his workload because—let me make sure I get the wording just right here—’ Cassidy, you’re the only one I can count on.’ Too bad you didn’t call Jon. His vacation wasn’t scheduled for another two weeks. But then, he got his time off, didn’t he.”

Her grandfather looked down at his desk and fidgeted with his calendar. “His children were counting on that trip.”

“I was counting on mine. Just as I was counting on that promotion. And my vacation weeks the two years before that. Vacations you begged me not to take.”

“I needed you here—not gallivanting off to some uncivilized place on the globe.”

“Well, you obviously don’t need me around here as much as you’ve led me to believe all these years. And since I have six weeks’ vacation coming to me, you’ll see me then. If I decide to come back!”

Her grandfather stiffened, his bushy eyebrows drawn together, his gray eyes almost as sorrowful as she felt. “I did need you. I do. I was just trying—”

“Don’t, Grandfather,” Cassidy snapped, cutting him off before he could do what he did best—entice her into believing him once again. “Don’t say anything else,” she said, her voice suddenly—maddeningly—full of despair. “Please. It’s too late for explanations and more promises. Way too late.”

With that, angry at both herself and the old man, she turned and rushed from the room, closing the door with a definite thump. She made it as far as the hall to the elevator before the burning started in her stomach, before tears of pain and utter desolation dammed up in her throat, and before she felt each beat of her heart inside her head.

She’d given up her dreams. He’d said that without her he couldn’t run the business he’d spent a lifetime building. And out of gratitude—out of a need to be loved—she’d tucked away her charcoal, pencils and paints and had gone to work for him.



In her little German sports car some minutes and a minor traffic jam later, Cassidy sat in the parking lot and stared up at her apartment building. She’d thought of it as a haven not five minutes earlier. Now its white facade looked cold. Empty. And she knew the inside of her own apartment would be even worse. Gray and depressing. She couldn’t make herself get out of her car.

Her stomach started to burn again, so she grabbed the roll of antacids that she always had sitting on the console and popped one in her mouth. She looked at the roll. Really looked at it this time. She’d stopped last night on the way home to buy it. It was nearly gone. How could that be?

Rubbing the heel of her hand where her stomach constantly stung, Cassidy remembered her doctor’s diagnosis of an ulcer. He’d prescribed medication just last week. Cassidy had never taken the time to fill the prescription. Apparently he was right. She really did need it.

Half an hour later, a prescription bottle and a new roll of antacids on her passenger seat, Cassidy started her car and wondered what to do next. Her grandfather had beeped her no less than ten times since she’d left his office. Her beeper was now turned off, as was her cell phone. She picked them both up off the passenger seat and glared at them. Sometimes these well-touted modern conveniences felt more like a pair of handcuffs chaining her to Jamison Steel.

But right now she was on vacation.

Without ceremony she tossed the offending technology into the backseat and determinedly put them and the company out of her mind.

For the first time since her childhood when she woke up with her grandfather sitting at her bedside in a Colorado hospital, she had no one planning her next step in life. No. This next move was all her own to make.

Rather than feeling free, Cassidy felt suddenly very alone. With her grandfather out of the equation, she had no one to rely on. He was all she had. Her friends were really more acquaintances, and most of them, save a neighbor or two, worked at Jamison.

She looked at herself in the rearview mirror, narrowing her blue eyes. When had she gotten so drawn looking? She fussed with her short, straight, blond hair for a second and bit her full bottom lip. What do you want, Cassidy Jamison? Where do you want to go?

“I want to get away from the rat race,” she said aloud to the near-stranger in the mirror. “I need time to just think.”

A penny winked up at her from next to the nearly empty antacid roll in the console. She remembered a scene from a book she’d read several years earlier. The hero had flipped a coin—a penny—and had driven toward his uncertain future, giving the coin the power he no longer felt over his life. At each crossroad, he’d let the penny send him wherever it chose. Right then, feeling adrift, she felt an acute kinship with that character and decided her discarded penny just might know more than she did about her life’s choices.

She picked it up, turned it over in her hand and stared down at old Abe Lincoln’s coppery visage. Above his head were words she’d seen all her life and never really read. In God we trust.

Cassidy wondered suddenly if there was a God. She remembered vaguely her parents talking about Him. But God hadn’t been part of her upbringing under her grandfather’s rule. Recalling her father’s calm, easy smile, she wondered if maybe that was part of her problem. She flipped the coin. Caught it. Slapped it down on the back of her hand. “If You’re up there, God, send me where I need to go. Heads north, tails south,” she called, then peeked. Honest Abe stared up at her again. “North,” she said, then wondered once again if she or some higher power had control of her destiny.



Winston Jamison turned from the window that looked out over Rittenhouse Square when a sharp knock echoed through his office door. “Come,” he called.

His longtime secretary walked in and as far as his desk. She stood, arms crossed, and glared at him. “She hasn’t answered her pages or her cell phone. I’ve tried her apartment. No go there, either.”

“Where could she have gone?”

“Well, I doubt she went to cry on a friend’s shoulder. Thanks to her hours these last several years, she hasn’t got any close friends.”

Rose had been with him for years. He’d kept her with generous raises and stock options. He’d kept her because he couldn’t intimidate her. But just now, he wished he’d fired her thirty years ago at the first sign of insubordination. He scowled, knowing it wouldn’t cow her in the least. “I’m sure there’s a saltshaker in that credenza over there. Care to throw some into the wound?”

She tapped her foot and moved her hands to her ample hips. “Don’t think I’m not tempted. Why on earth did you do it?”

“I didn’t have a choice. The job would have been too much for her. I did it for her own good.”

“You told her the vice presidency was hers. You told me it was hers. Why the last-minute change? I’ve never known you to vacillate like this.”

“I was trying to save her from herself. And from me. I love that girl, Rose. This place is dragging her down. The circles under her eyes have circles.”

“So this was for her own good? That child was in tears! I’ve never seen her cry in all the years I’ve known her!”

He winced. “I was wrong to insist she come in to the business. I’m trying to right a wrong.”

“Oh? Now you see it, when you managed to ignore a double major and her real talent? What, pray tell, caused this sudden revelation?”

He knew he deserved her scorn, but he felt the need to squirm and didn’t like it in the least! Instead he walked to his desk and sat in his big leather chair. “I overheard a conversation she had with her doctor last week. She has an ulcer, Rose. And it’s my fault.”

She sat in the chair where Cassidy had been sitting just a few hours earlier. “But to pull the rug out from under her like that was cruel.”

“It was a last-minute decision. I just couldn’t let her take on more. But I intended to explain. I really did. But she started shouting. Then I did. I lost sight of what I wanted to say and defended my choice instead. Before I knew it, she was storming out. By the time I calmed down enough to realize what had happened, she was gone.”

Rose shook her head in disgust. “For your sake, I hope she isn’t gone for good.”

“You know, Rose, if I knew where she was, that would be okay with me. Just so she’s happy.”



Dusk had just settled into darkness when the six-lane interstate Cassidy was traveling narrowed rather abruptly to one lane in each direction. She drove about ten miles farther, getting anxious about the denseness of the timberland that now surrounded her.

When the Pocono Mountains had loomed ahead of her at the Lehigh Tunnel, she’d gotten excited about the possibilities they held. She’d decided to really cut loose on this vacation and pick up a sketch pad and some charcoal. Since then, she’d seen numerous valleys and stark slopes of bare deciduous trees dotted with deep green pines that she itched to sketch.

But when that vast expanse of trees had formed a dark, oppressive tunnel with no evidence of a town or resort anywhere, the countryside had become frightening. Then, just as she decided to turn around because civilization had not made its presence known, the car that had been her stalwart companion for nearly five hours suddenly coughed and bucked as she crested a hill. It settled down again when she pressed a little harder on the accelerator, but whenever she slowed down to stop and turn around, it nearly stalled.

Cassidy was left with a dilemma: she had to continue on or risk getting stuck right there, which she feared was miles from nowhere. Just the thought of breaking down amidst the darkness and thick woodlands turned up the acidic burning in her stomach another notch. The pounding in her head seemed to turn up its volume by a hundred decibels, as well.

Several hundred yards farther down the road, a sign proclaimed that the town of Mountain View, Pennsylvania, population three hundred, was only a couple of miles ahead. Reassured, she had traveled on about a mile before the car bucked again.

Cassidy could just see the tiny town, a few lights winking in the distance, when the car stalled for the first time. She got it started, but several hundred yards farther down the road it coughed again and stalled. After several tries it did turn over, but continued to buck and cough as she lumbered down the road. She barely was able to limp the car into Earl’s Car Emporium in the center of town. No sooner had she pulled to a stop than the engine died.

Cassidy would have felt more confident in Earl’s had the weathered wood and faded sign looked the way they did for quaint effect rather than from years of neglect and aging. She got out to look around. Rusting and greasy car parts overflowed several fifty-five gallon drums next to the rustic building. The sound of country music, a metallic pounding and the odd grumble, floated out of a crooked doorway in what she thought was a converted barn.

The disgruntled voice was not reassuring.

“Mr. Earl?” Cassie called over the music as she gingerly pushed open the door. “Hello. Could someone help me?”

“Eh? What’s that?” a gravelly voice called. “Oh, well, hey there, girly. What can I help you with? Directions to Appleton?”

“Actually, my car’s acting up.”

Cassidy watched as a man in a greasy hat peered over the lifted hood of a car. When the mechanic came out from behind his current project, she remembered her grandfather describing someone as a long drink of water, and knew the description fit Mister—.

“Mister Earl?” she asked, and hoped he was better at his work than he was at keeping clean. Cassidy pulled off the glasses she only wore for driving and perched them on top of her blond head.

The man’s pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile that he didn’t betray with his mouth. “Just Earl. Earl Pedmont,” he said, and offered her his hand.

Cassidy automatically reached out to shake it. But Earl only awkwardly squeezed her fingers. When his eyes rose to look into hers, it was his look of consternation that made her realize her error. And his.

He smiled in obvious discomfort, let go and stepped back, tipping his cap in a surprisingly courtly manner. “How do, little lady.”

Cassidy looked down at her now-greasy hand, then back up at Earl, trying to hide her annoyance. “I’ve been better,” she answered truthfully. “As I said, my car is acting up. It started a few miles ago. Coughing and bucking. For a while it evened out when I accelerated. Then it started stalling, no matter what I did. I barely made it to town.”

Earl nodded. “Hmm. Let’s take a look,” he said as he turned toward the door and made his way outside.

She followed, trying not to cringe at the idea of his coveralls coming in contact with her creamy leather interior when he climbed into her pride and joy.

After starting the car and listening to the engine run a few seconds, then stall, he pursed his lips and nodded sagely. “’Pears to me you’ll be spending some time here in Mountain View, little lady. ‘Less you got a husband who can come get you, that is.” He gave her a friendly gap-toothed smile.

“No husband,” she answered, ignoring the pang in the region of her heart. Sometimes her life seemed so empty. What good was earning tons of money with no time to spend it and no one to spend it on? Especially when you didn’t earn all that money in a way that was in the least fulfilling.

“That’s good. That’s good,” Earl replied, still grinning.

His grin suddenly made Cassidy nervous. “Why do you say that?”

“Wouldn’t want him to be worrying ‘bout you being stuck here so far from home. Ain’t a nice world no more for young ladies. Guess since you don’t have a husband, you’ll be staying with us for a while.”

She looked around what she could see of the town. Stay? Here? Was he crazy? When the mountains had loomed ahead, a picture of her next few weeks had flashed into her head. A luxury suite. A chic hotel shop where she could buy a sketch pad and some clothes. A four-star restaurant, or maybe even room service for her meals. Calling this a one-horse town would be kind.

Cassidy looked back at Earl’s smiling face and wondered why he looked so pleased. “What’s wrong with my car?” she asked, trying to ignore the thought that had rocketed into her brain. What did one do in Mountain View, PA? Watch the grass grow? The frost settle?

“Could be the fuel filter. That’d be the cheapest. Could take a few days to get one up here. But then, it could be the pump or the carb. That’d take longer. But then, could be somethin’ else altogether. Won’t know till I get to workin’ on it.”

Cassidy blew out a breath. “How long will it be until you can look at it?”

“Hmm. Well, I got several folks in line ahead of you. Guess I could squeeze you in late day after tomorrow, or the next morning.”

Cassidy’s head started pounding harder. “Look, I’ll pay you double your labor rate to take a look at it tomorrow.”

“Sorry, little lady, but a promise is a promise. Can’t put you ahead. Just wouldn’t be fair. But don’t you worry none. I got me a good supplier. Bet it won’t take long at all to get hold of any part I’ll need. And once I get going, I’m real quick.”

Again Cassidy looked around at the tiny hamlet where she’d landed. “I’ll pay triple,” she offered.

Earl shook his shaggy head. “Nope. Late day after tomorrow at best.”

Cassidy squeezed her temples. Whatever had happened to her grandfather’s axiom that everyone had a price? Looking at Earl Pedmont’s set features, she decided he’d never heard of that particular rule of life. She felt as if she’d fallen down a rabbit hole.

Earl took off his cap and scratched his head. “You’ll be needin’ something to eat and somewhere to stay. Maybe you ought to go on down and see Irma Tallinger. She runs the café and the Mountain View Hotel. She’ll fix you right up. Her place is just there up the road a piece,” he said, pointing toward a flickering sign.

Cassidy saw the old sign but she saw nothing that looked like a hotel. She gave one last glance at her traitorous car, then turned to trudge toward the café Earl had recommended.

Her head ached. Her stomach burned. At least, she consoled herself, walking down the side of a road without sidewalks put her in no danger. Traffic in the booming metropolis of Mountain View was as nonexistent as foreign car parts.




Chapter Two


Cassidy held out little hope that Irma’s Café would provide a decent meal. After all, it had been Earl Pedmont who’d recommended the place, and that didn’t inspire much confidence. But it seemed to be the only game in town, so she headed toward the flickering neon sign he’d pointed out. Though traffic along the country road was indeed no problem, the uneven surface was.

With the prospect of spending several days watching everywhere she put her high-heel-shod feet looming in her mind, she opened the door to Irma’s Café—and almost gasped aloud. Instead she stood there gaping because inside the unassuming concrete-block structure was a perfectly preserved fifties diner, replete with shining red counter and matching stools. Sitting opposite the counter was a row of cheery red-and-white booths.

Cassidy sniffed the air appreciatively and sighed. Until that moment her surprises that day had been anything but pleasant. Maybe her luck had changed. Maybe things were looking up.

“Don’t get too excited, Cassidy old girl, there was nowhere to go but up,” she muttered to herself as she went to put her hand to her throbbing head and noticed her grease-stained fingers.

As the bell over the door tinkled, an elderly woman stopped polishing the red faux-marble countertop and looked up. “Sit wherever you want,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’ll be with you in no time.”

Cassidy nodded gratefully and nearly staggered to the nearest booth. She sank down onto the comfortable red bench and put her clean palm against her forehead, closing her eyes, trying to decide what to do next.

Her car clearly needed more than the typical in-and-out repair she was used to having done. Should she have her grandfather send a car for her, or should she look for lodging? That was really no choice at all, since right then she didn’t even want to talk to her grandfather, let alone ask for his help in any way.

“Are you all right, dear?” a female voice asked.

She looked up at the elderly woman who’d called to her from behind the counter. To Cassidy, she looked like everyone’s great aunt. Round. Gray. Kindly. The fairy godmother in Cinderella come to life.

“My car broke down and I don’t know what to do next,” she confided to the woman for some unknown reason.

“You look like you could use a little repair yourself.”

Cassidy felt as if someone had wrapped a blanket around her cold spirit. Baffled by her reaction to the woman, Cassidy shrugged. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Just a monster headache and an ulcer burning a hole in my stomach.”

“How about a bowl of homemade vegetable soup, some crackers and a nice cup of herbal tea?”

Cassidy sighed. “Is the soup what I smelled when I came in here?”

The woman sniffed the air and chuckled. “I suppose it was. So how does that bowl sound to you?”

“Perfect. I’ll have the soup and crackers.” She thought for a second and added, “The tea, too.”

“That’ll just take a couple minutes. You need anything else, just holler for Irma.”

“I need to wash up.” She showed Irma her greasy hand.

“Earl?”

Cassidy nodded and even managed a smile. “I’d like to believe he did it by accident. After all, he’s got my car.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was an accident. He’s really a nice man. He’s just not bursting with social graces. The ladies’ room is just past the counter on the left.”

Cassidy stood. “Thank you, Irma. Earl also said to ask you about the Mountain View Hotel. It looks as if I’ll be in town for a while, so I’ll need a suite.”

“Mountain View Hotel? Is that what he said?” She chuckled. “Oh, he’s a card, that Earl. We don’t have a hotel here in Mountain View.”

Horrified, Cassidy stared at the woman. She’d given up on reaching the mountain resort of her daydreams, but she had to stay somewhere. “Then where will I stay? Earl made it sound as if I could be stuck here for days.”

“In summer I sometimes rent rooms at the parsonage. Sort of a bed-and-breakfast kind of arrangement. That must be what he meant. That tease! You’re welcome to stay with us, even though I don’t usually rent in fall or winter. I can adjust the regular rate for the off-season, or leave it and include three meals either here or with the family.” She named what Cassidy thought sounded like a very fair rate and described a room that didn’t sound like a luxury suite but at least sounded comfortable.

“That sounds fine. Can you tell me how to get to a local shop? I need to buy some clothes and personal items. This was an unplanned trip.”

Irma pursed her lips. “Hmm. Well, there’s The Trading Post across the road. You can stop and get personal items and underthings there, but as for clothing, there’s nothing in town open in the off-season except the church thrift shop. I’m sure you could get by with what you find there.”

Cassidy’s heart dropped. No little designer shop? No cute little mountain boutique? “A thrift shop?”

Irma didn’t seem to notice Cassidy’s hesitation. “It’s a little ways on up the road. Last building out of town. Our home is right next door. The shop’s in back of the church building. You can’t miss it. It looks like a little version of the church but a lot newer. My son built it last summer.”

Cassidy was appalled, but didn’t want to show it after Irma had been so kind. She felt small and petty to balk at wearing clothes from a thrift store. But this was the complete opposite of what she’d imagined, and she didn’t think she’d be able to wear something a stranger had worn and discarded. “A thrift shop,” she repeated.

“There are some really nice things. You’ll see.”

Nodding, Cassidy said, “I’ll go over after I eat. How long will it be before I can get into my room? Maybe if I sleep, this headache will go away.”

“I’ll call Josh and warn him that you’re on your way over. He and Henry can get the room ready by the time you get there. I’ll go get your soup and be back in a jiffy.”



“Hello, St. Luke’s Thrift,” Joshua said as he put the telephone receiver to his ear.

“Josh, it’s Ma.”

Joshua smiled. “Hi, Ma. I was just about to close up shop here and go in to wake Henry.”

“I need you to do a couple things for me. Make sure the ivory-and-lavender bedroom is all made up and sparkling. We’ve got a young lady coming to stay a few days. She’ll be needing some things from the shop, too.”

“Another lost soul?”

“Smarty,” she scolded with a smile in her voice. “She’s a paying guest, so, no, not lost in the usual way, but…”

Now Josh heard compassion enter Irma’s tone. Here it comes, he thought, and sighed. “But what?”

“Well, I guess that having enough money to pay your way isn’t everything in life. I’m not sure she’s real healthy, either, but I can see she’s not happy even when she smiles. You’ll see. She should be there in a while. I just gave her a bowl of soup and a cup of tea.”

Chuckling, Josh hung up the phone to once again help Irma give aid to a needy person. He wanted to tell her to worry about herself for a change. She worked too hard. Relaxed too little. But how could he try to curb her from bringing home her strays after all she’d done for him?

Of course, there wasn’t a thing amiss in the room Irma had asked him to see to, so after waking Henry, Joshua returned to the thrift shop to await the woman.

A few minutes later the bell above the door tinkled. Joshua looked up, not knowing what to expect. Then he just stared. He might not have known what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been anyone like the young woman who entered and approached the counter. Joshua stood automatically.

“Hello,” she said as she stalked toward him. “Irma from the diner sent me here. I’ll be renting a room for a few days. She said I might find a few things to tide me over till my car is finished. Can you direct me to the size eights?”

Joshua couldn’t seem to respond. Had Irma lost her mind? This was her lost soul? This take-charge woman in the two-thousand-dollar suit? He had no idea how he knew what her suit must have cost, but he often knew things without knowing how he knew them.

“Excuse me?” the young woman said, now standing directly in front of him.

Joshua realized he was staring straight ahead at her navy suit, and looked quickly up into the sweetest face he’d ever seen. It was heart-shaped, and her skin looked like translucent silk. Her bottom lip was full and the top a perfect bow. She had a nose that tipped up, giving her the look of a woodland sprite. The face did not match the attitude.

Then he looked a millimeter higher into the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. They were gray-blue and shadowed with unhappiness and even a hint of physical pain, as well. Yeah. Irma was right once again. The woman could certainly pay her way but she was just as certainly a lost soul.

“May I help you?” he asked, knowing she’d asked him a question yet unable to recall it.

“The size eights. I asked where you have the eights,” she said slowly as if he were deaf or too dull-witted to understand her.

Joshua felt his hackles rise. Then he looked again at the woman. Irma thought she needed help. He guessed he could show enough Christian charity to swallow his anger at being patronized.

“Everything for women is in the front of the shop. All jeans are in the middle. Men’s to the left. Women’s to the right. The men’s clothes are behind the jeans. Kids’ clothes are all the way to the rear.” He pointed to the signs hanging above each section. With the Lord’s help, he managed not to put voice to his anger.

Joshua watched her walk through the room as if she might catch something from clothes once worn by others, and his anger flared anew. “Ma washes everything before anything gets added to the stock,” he said through gritted teeth before he could stop himself.

She pivoted toward him and her cheeks flamed. “I’ve never had to—” She took a deep breath, shook her head slightly and tried again, “I’m sorry. I’ve just never been…”

“Down on your luck? Hard up enough to wear hand-me-downs?” Joshua sat back down on the stool behind the counter and leaned his back against the wall, his arms crossed.

He could actually see her temper slip its restraints. “Not having faced tough times financially isn’t a crime. I’m not used to shopping like this. So shoot me! I need some clothes and these are all that’s available. I can roll with the punches as good as the next guy.” Her hand came up to squeeze her forehead. “I’m sorry. Could we start over?” She returned to the counter and reached her hand out to him. “I’m Cassidy Jamison.”

Joshua felt his annoyance give way to compassion. She was as much a fish out of water in the small thrift shop he and Henry had put together to serve their small congregation as he would be in the city she probably came from. She couldn’t change the life she’d obviously been born into any more than he could change the circumstances of his life. His own clothes had once been as expensive as hers. A suit that reminded him of the past still hung, cleaned and pressed, in his closet. Besides, she really didn’t look well.

He smiled, hoping to put her at ease, and shook her hand. But it wasn’t like shaking Earl’s hand or any of his father’s parishioners. He frowned at the feeling that zinged through him. “Joshua Daniels,” he said, hearing a bewildered husky tone in his own voice.

“Irma Tallinger sent me to see her son.”

“That would be me,” he explained. “Suppose I play shopkeeper.” He shrugged. “That’s what I am today, after all.”

Her tentative return smile was surprisingly shy and sweet but still didn’t overshadow the sorrow in her eyes. “Tell me,” she asked, “what are stylishly dressed stranded motorists wearing in Mountain View this season?”

He pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in her size eight, and a flannel shirt in a men’s small from the men’s section. “Here you go, pretty lady—the ultimate in hiking chic.”

She blinked, appearing to be surprised by something, then she looked away nervously. What had he said? Joshua wondered, concerned. But then she reached out and touched the jeans, and he forgot his worry. There was something akin to wonder in her eyes now.

Then she shook her head and looked down at her feet. “I don’t think that outfit would go very well with my shoes.”

Joshua followed her gaze and shook his head. “There’s only one thing high heels are going to get you in Mountain View—broken ankles. But if you prefer to walk around for the next few days on eggshells, over here we have a section of dresses, skirts and the like.”

She looked longingly at the things in his hand. “They do look comfortable.”

He could hear the disappointment and resignation in her voice and see it in her blue-eyed gaze as she continued to stare at the clothes he held. “Jeans and shirts would really be your best bet,” he added, hoping to encourage her. It was as if some invisible force held her back.

Then an idea struck. One that might give her the push she needed. He snapped his fingers. “What shoe size do you wear?”

When she told him her size, Joshua smiled and breathed a little sigh. He didn’t believe in coincidence. The Lord provides, and she really wanted those jeans. “You’re in luck. You’re the same shoe size as Ma. She has a brand-spanking-new pair of tennis shoes that I seriously doubt she’ll ever break down and wear.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“The only reason they aren’t already out here in the shop is because I bought them for her. Knowing Ma, she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. You’d be doing her a favor if you took them off her hands.”

“They were a gift and—”

He grimaced. “What they were was a bad idea. It’s like I was buying them for someone else.” Not for the first time he wondered who. “House dresses and sensible shoes. That’s our Irma. Not tennis shoes. I must have lost my head as well as my sense in that store, but Mother’s Day loomed and I’d run out of ideas.”

She looked at him with a serious expression, then down at the rack near where she stood. “Oh, this is wonderful!” She grabbed a red-and-white snowflake sweater. Her blue eyes sparkled a little and even that small hint of joy did something to him. Her beauty took Joshua’s breath away. “I had one like this when I was a child. I guess some styles never go out of fashion.”

Joshua just stopped himself from telling her that the sweater could very well be older than she was. Instead he tried to tempt her to take the tennis shoes. “But you can’t wear that with a dress. Just won’t do.”

Her chin firmed. “It would be fine with a skirt,” she argued.

“But then there is that broken ankle to worry about,” he teased. “You could wind up the woman who came to dinner.”

She put a sassy hand on her hip. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?”

Joshua smiled. In the hospital they’d all told him he was too stubborn to die. He guessed that counted. “Yep, sure have. I’m told it’s part of my charm. Now about those tennis shoes…”

She made a face that spoke of exasperation. “Oh, all right. But I insist on paying you what they cost.”

“Not necessary,” he told her, shaking his head.

She arched a delicate eyebrow, then looked around the shop. “Where did you say those skirts are?”

Joshua rolled his eyes and laughed. “And you call me stubborn. I’ll tell you what—you can pay, but only half. I’ll put the money in the till here at the shop. Like I said, the only reason she hasn’t put them in the shop already is that she’s worried about hurting my feelings.”

The bell over the door tinkled again, and Joshua turned to see Irma entering the shop, overburdened with a bundle. “Ma, what on earth possesses you?” he scolded as he rushed to her side. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d have run down to pick this up.” He took the bundle from her and dropped it on the wide counter.

Irma smacked him playfully on the arm. “Will you stop coddling me? It was more cumbersome than heavy, which you know by now since you snatched it from me! Miss Maria sent them down. There’s only a fluffy bedspread and a few dresses she’s worn to her shows in there. She promised there wasn’t a speck of paint on any of them. Maybe Miss—” Irma turned toward her latest stray “—I’m sorry, I never got a name.”

“Cassidy Jamison,” she said, and put out her hand to shake Irma’s. “I appreciate all your help, Irma.”

Irma reached out hesitantly and shook Cassidy Jamison’s hand, looking as if she’d just encountered an alien. Joshua grinned. Irma would have been more comfortable dispensing a bear hug. Most of the ladies of Mountain View hadn’t really caught up with the times. He knew that businesswomen always shook hands these days, but he doubted many of the residents around there were used to the gesture.

He frowned. This was the one thing he hated about outsiders coming to town. They always brought their way of doing things with them, and he understood those little social nuances without knowing how.

“Josh, are you okay?”

He snapped out of his troubling thoughts and realized that at some point he’d sunk onto the high stool behind the counter. Irma had come around to the back and stood in front of him cupping his cheek. Obviously worried, she stared into his eyes. Anxiety and hope warred in her lined face. He shook his head. “Thinking. That’s all, Ma.” He shrugged. “Just knew something I shouldn’t.”

And Irma nodded. Her lips still pursed with apprehension, she turned to Cassidy Jamison, who was staring at them with a puzzled look on her pretty face.

Embarrassed, Joshua pretended sudden interest in the large bag Irma had carried in. Then he remembered the tennis shoes.

“Ma,” he called to Irma, who had directed Cassidy’s attention to a second pair of jeans, “remember those tennis shoes I bought you for Mother’s Day?”

“Oh…ah…I’ll wear them next summer, dear. I promise.”

Joshua chuckled. “Now what would Henry say if he heard his wife tell a huge whopper like that? Ms. Jamison needs more practical footwear while she’s here if she’s going to survive for the next few days. And she’s your size. I figure this is your big chance to get rid of them gracefully.”

Irma grinned. “Oh, in that case, I’m sure I could part with them for such a worthy cause.”

“No, really. It’s fine,” Cassidy said quickly. “I’m sure I can manage.”

Irma patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t you pay a bit of attention to our teasing. Much as I hate to admit it, the tennis shoes just aren’t me.”

“Then I insist you let me pay you for them. That way you can buy yourself something to replace them.”

“Dear, there’s nothing on this earth I want that I don’t already have. I think that’s why Josh was so desperate when he bought them. Why don’t you look around some more? Take whatever you think you might want and try them on in your room. We can settle up when you pay for your stay. I know you were hoping to lie down. I’m going ahead to get dinner heated up. Joshua, will you show Ms. Jamison to her room when she’s done here?”

Joshua watched for the next several minutes as Cassidy Jamison added to her growing pile with surprising enthusiasm. “Goodness,” she exclaimed when the stack started to slip, “I can’t believe I found so many things I like.”

“Here, let me take those for you,” he said, coming out from behind the counter again.

“If all this fits me, I’ll need a suitcase when I leave.” She laughed, turning over her burden to him. “Where do all these things come from?”

Joshua blinked. Why had her laughter made his stomach knot? And was that an electric shock that he felt when she touched his arm? He frowned. He’d been feeling funny on and off since he’d first laid eyes on her. Supremely confused, he forced his thoughts off his reaction to her and on to her question.

“I got hold of some barrels and put them in the resort hotels and ski lodges within an hour’s drive of here. You wouldn’t believe the stuff people leave behind and never bother to claim. In fact, we have one or two suitcases in back if you want one. I think Henry put five-or ten-dollar price tags on them.”

Cassidy nodded. “Sounds like a plan. If I need one, we can add it to the tally for the clothes. And the amount those tennis shoes cost you.”

Joshua grinned. “Didn’t we agree that you’d only pay half what I did?” he put in with a raised eyebrow.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Half, if you give me the real price. I’ll know if you try to undersell.”

“They were a hundred and twenty dollars. Now, aren’t you sorry you asked?”

Cassidy smiled, though she looked pained. “The shoes I’m wearing cost three times that much and they have to be the most uncomfortable footwear I’ve ever had. I hate them. Believe me, the tennis shoes will be a bargain at twice the price.”

Joshua tossed her selections into a big trash bag, then slung it over his shoulder to haul it to the Ivory Room. He flipped on the floodlights and headed out the door. She followed him, and he noted she did so with careful steps. But the uneven gravel was apparently too much for her high heels. Joshua saw her teeter, and without thinking, he dropped the big bag and reached out to help her.

He didn’t know how Cassidy wound up in his arms, but somehow she did. She took a sharp breath and stiffened. Josh just held on, his mind in a whirl until he focused on her eyes. He noticed that close up she had golden flecks in widened blue eyes that he thought should sparkle instead of reflecting pain and sadness. She seemed more fragile suddenly, and he quickly helped her regain a steady footing.



Cassidy sat on the bed and watched the door close behind Joshua Daniel Tallinger. He was gorgeous. With dark-dark brown hair, saved from being black by just the hint of red highlights, huge deep-set eyes that were just as deep brown in color as his hair, a skin tone that looked permanently tanned, and shoulders that looked as if they could hold up the world. No wonder she’d been surprised when she met Henry Tallinger. She’d thought to find a man much like his son, only older. But like his wife, Henry was fair, with graying hair that had obviously once been blond. And he was nearly as short as Irma, too. In fact, the only similarity between Joshua and Henry was their dry sense of humor.

She looked around the room and tried to smile. It was a room fit for a Victorian princess. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel like a princess. She felt like that last five miles of bad road she’d been on as she approached the booming metropolis of Mountain View.

The whole fiasco that had been her day seemed unreal. She’d started out thinking she was about to be named Jamison Steel’s next vice president. And had wound up without a job and staying in a room in a rectory miles from civilization. Her car sat outside a rundown barn awaiting repair by a man who had probably never seen a car like hers. She’d been forced to shop in what looked like a turn-of-the-19th-century general store and a church thrift shop.

And now she was sitting in a part-time bed-and-breakfast, thinking about a country bumpkin preacher in jeans and flannel whom she found attractive. Really attractive.

Cassidy old girl, you’ve lost it!

She surveyed her surroundings again. She knew the difference between expensive antiques and just plain old aging furniture, and though Irma’s furniture would never sell at auction at Christie’s it was well cared for. She was sure the wallpaper was from an era gone by, but it still looked crisp and clean. Cassidy had a feeling that this was Irma Tallinger’s version of the presidential suite. And she suddenly felt honored to be staying there. Maybe Mountain View wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

The glass of water Joshua had brought her sloshed a little, reminding her she still hadn’t taken her ulcer medication or anything for her somewhat faded headache. After she swallowed the pills, she flopped back down on the bed, and her thoughts returned to the enigmatic son of the house. She soon drifted off to sleep, but the events of the day and those who had peopled it followed her into the night.




Chapter Three


Light streamed in the room, disturbing Cassidy’s deep dream-filled sleep. She opened her eyes, disoriented for a heartbeat. Then it all came back. The meeting. The drive. The car. She looked around the big ivory-and-lavender room. Joshua.

He’d brought her and her things up here. Then, after getting her a glass of water, he’d promised to call her for dinner. She fingered the quilt that had been tossed over her. Its navy, burgundy and forest-green print didn’t go with the elegant room. The carefully constructed log cabin quilt was just too masculine to fit in here. She brought it to her face and knew why she’d thought of Joshua almost immediately upon waking—why she’d been dreaming of him when she woke.

The quilt carried his scent.

She remembered it from those incredible seconds she’d spent in his arms when she’d stumbled on her way across the gravel drive from the church thrift shop to the Tallingers’ house. The extreme care she’d taken of her footing had been doomed to failure when her heel encountered a particularly large chunk of gravel. She’d tipped sideways, and only Joshua’s quickness had saved her.

Her face flamed anew. He’d seen her at her clumsiest. Had he also seen her sleeping at her most vulnerable? Had he covered her with his quilt? Taken off her shoes? Or had his mother come in? She wished she’d locked her door. She didn’t like feeling so defenseless with strangers.

She caught his scent on the quilt again and tossed it off her. She especially didn’t like the mixed feelings Joshua evoked in her. He was not the kind of man she’d ever been interested in. He was too masculine. Too primitive. He fit in these mountains—unlike her with her high-heeled shoes and power suits. He was completely unlike the men she’d dated occasionally over the years. Joshua was more like a diamond in the rough than those well-polished gems in her past.

But for all his masculinity and size, he was a gentle man if not a gentleman, she reminded herself. He had a kindness in his eyes that she was sure reached all the way to his core. Which meant that she hadn’t completely lost her mind with this attraction she felt for him.

She remembered the way he’d treated Irma when she’d entered the thrift shop with her unwieldy bundle. He’d seemed all gruff and impatient, while tenderness and love had flooded his gaze. In the few minutes she’d been with him, Cassidy had recognized that he was a special person. Maybe that was why she’d dreamed of him.

A knock at her door drew her from her thoughts, and as if those thoughts had beckoned him, Cassidy heard Joshua call to her through the door. She scrambled off the bed, straightening her blouse and skirt as she stumbled to the door. “Yes?” she asked as she opened it.

Joshua stood there. He looked the same. Big. Strikingly handsome. Disturbing. “Ma said to tell you breakfast should be in half an hour,” he told her.

“Please, tell Irma it’s kind of her to include me in your family breakfast but I usually only have coffee.”

“Maybe that’s why you have an ulcer.”

Cassidy sucked a quick breath. “How did you…”

Joshua looked instantly uncomfortable. “You keep rubbing your stomach and flinching. I figured an ulcer or close to it.” He frowned and shrugged carelessly, but there was something in his eyes. A vulnerability and uncertainty that surprised her and gave her pause. “Sorry,” he continued. “Sometimes I just say what I’m thinking when I shouldn’t.” He flashed her a self-deprecating grin.

“It’s okay. You’re right. It is an ulcer,” she told him, wanting to reassure him. Seeing someone so strong look so vulnerable made her feel vulnerable, too, for some reason. And Cassidy always liked to feel in control. Maybe because she’d had so little control of the decisions that had formed her life into what it had become.

“Then I’ll stick my neck out again. Maybe you should see someone about it.”

“Done. I just started on medication. I guess my job’s been getting to me. I’ll try the breakfast idea. You seem to know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t. Not really. It’s just that when I came up to wake you for dinner, you were asleep. Which means you also missed dinner. That can’t be good.”

“It was you who covered me?” she asked carefully, still not sure how she felt about his having been in her room while she was sleeping.

“No. When you didn’t answer your door, I got worried and called Ma. She didn’t want to wake you to get you under the covers but she said you looked cold. So I grabbed the quilt off my bed so she could cover you. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. I did,” she said, trying to ignore the memory of the disturbing dream she’d had about him. They’d been dancing—waltzing, really—in a barn. She’d been wearing a dress fit only for a remake of “Oklahoma.” She shook off the thought. “Well…um, thank you for your concern. Would you tell your mother I’ll be down in a few minutes?”

He nodded gravely and left.



Joshua stalked through the house and out the back door, letting the storm door flap shut with a satisfying bang behind him. He stood at the top of the steps, his thoughts spinning. It was clear to him that temptation had come to Mountain View, but he couldn’t give in to it. Even though temptation came in a very special package named Cassidy Jamison.

When the door squeaked slowly open behind him and he felt a reassuring hand settle on his back, he sank down on the wooden back steps.

“Did Ms. Jamison insult my cooking, son?” Irma asked as she settled next to him.

He grinned ruefully at his mother and shook his head, but the smile slipped into a frown. “She’ll be down for breakfast, but I think I’ll give it a skip.” What was wrong with him? It was a warm day for late November and the sun felt good on his face. He should be in a fine mood. But all he could think of was that dreamy look that had come into Cassidy’s eyes and the way it had affected him. He wanted to get to know her. And he couldn’t.

Irma arched a thin eyebrow. “Oh, so it’s you who’s insulting my cooking. Fine. I’ll give your breakfast to Bear. At least he appreciates my efforts.”

Joshua didn’t look at Irma but he couldn’t hold back a grin, either. “Bear would eat anything, and it isn’t your cooking I’m avoiding and you know it.”

“Then it’s the company. Don’t you like Cassidy?”

“I like her fine. But…”

“But?”

He shrugged. “She makes me…uncomfortable.”

“Did she do something that triggered a memory yesterday?”

Now he did look at Irma, understanding her concern. Understanding the reluctant hope in her gaze, as well. Joshua shook his head. “No. It was like I said. I just knew something I shouldn’t. She shook your hand. You looked surprised. Women around here don’t usually shake hands. But it seemed just right to me. It felt real, the way things do when I know them from before.”

“And that’s all?”

“That and Cassidy—” Joshua stopped in mid-thought. He didn’t want to talk to Irma about what Cassidy made him feel.

This time Irma’s raised eyebrow wasn’t speculative but annoyingly all-knowing. He could feel his cheeks heat.

“Maybe you should talk with Henry. He took Bear for a walk. They ought to be back in no time. But you will come to the table. I’m not sending you off to fix the Wilsons’ roof without a good meal in you.”

“Ma.”

Irma poked him. “Don’t whine and don’t ‘Ma’ me. You get yourself to the table.”

Irma had long since gone back to cooking breakfast when a deep woof echoed in the woods. “Hey, Bear,” Joshua called to his huge mongrel dog, as the animal lumbered into the middle of the yard.

Bear was one of those strange accidents of nature that got all the extreme traits of his ancestors. And judging from the way he’d turned out, he had very large ancestors. Joshua and Henry had gone through a book on dog breeds once and picked out Newfoundland and English sheepdog as the most likely culprits. The result was a huge dog with hair so thick it stood on end and made Bear look about twenty pounds heavier than his one hundred fifty pounds. As a puppy, he’d looked more like a bear cub than a dog.

Bear had wandered into the yard the day Joshua came to live with the Tallingers. Joshua had gotten out of the car that day, still needing a walker, and had nearly tripped over the little fellow who skidded to a stop at his feet. It had been such a frightening day, facing a world of unknowns, and then he’d looked down and seen a creature even more afraid than he was. Henry had steadied Joshua, and Irma had swept the puppy up in her arms. Joshua, still not well versed in the strange world outside the hospital, had called him a “bear.” The name stuck, and Bear had lived up to it all too well.

Joshua picked up a ball and sent Bear running after it, just as Henry cleared the edge of the woods. “He tire you out?” Joshua asked as Henry settled onto the picnic bench.

“Me?” he asked, huffing and puffing. “That’ll be the day. You taking him up to the Wilsons’ with you?”

Joshua nodded and sat down across from Henry. “Yeah. I’ll get going after I eat. I was going to skip breakfast, but Ma had a fit.”

“Why’d you want to go and do a fool thing like that, boy? Irma was cooking up a storm when I left, on account of our guest.”

Joshua took a moment to look around him, trying to enjoy his surroundings in the hope that it would settle him. But it didn’t. There was no denying the truth. “Our guest is why I tried to get out of breakfast. I’m attracted to her. Except I’m not free to be. I just wanted to steer clear of her. Ma had other ideas.”

Henry leaned forward and grabbed Joshua’s hand to give it a quick squeeze. It was a father-son gesture that made him feel supported and loved.

“Josh, your memory’s gone. The accident, or whatever it was that happened to you, took it. It’s not going to come back.”

“Doctor Bennington said it still could,” Joshua protested.

“That isn’t the way I heard it. I believe he said that after five years it wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.”

“True, but what if—”

“You’ve got to forget that woman in the picture. We don’t know who she is. Even the police and a national television show couldn’t find out. I wish they’d never shown it to you.”

Joshua frowned. “But they did.”

“And you need to forget it. She could be your sister. You have to start living for the here and now, and the future. I truly don’t believe the Good Lord would have you be alone in this life He’s restored to you. If you like this girl, this Cassidy, then I say you ought to spend time with her. She’ll be gone by day after tomorrow. Where’s the harm in a little companionship?”

Bear dropped the ball in Joshua’s lap, and Joshua tossed it toward the woods. “And then what? She’ll go back to the city and get back to her life and the job that gave her ulcers.” Joshua sighed. “And I’ll be here, maybe wishing she’d stayed. What’s the point? Don’t you see? Even if I did feel free to think about her in the long term, she doesn’t belong here.”

Henry leaned down, picked up a dead leaf and twirled it between his fingers. “Maybe you’re supposed to help her figure out that she shouldn’t go back to her job if it’s making her sick. The Lord sends people into our lives all the time with a plan in His mind. And another thing—you took a big job on yourself when you signed on as my assistant pastor. You work for a pretty demanding boss—and I don’t mean me.”

“I know who I work for,” Joshua snapped.

Henry fixed him with a steely, blue-eyed look. “Counseling the troubled is part of your job description. Irma says Cassidy Jamison is one unhappy young lady. Your obligation to His flock doesn’t stop at members of our church. You’re supposed to help any of God’s children who need you.”

“So you help her,” Josh groused, and unconsciously tossed the ball for Bear again.

Henry sighed, clearly exasperated. “I didn’t just take you on as an assistant because you swing a mean hammer or because you’re young enough to take over for me when I’m gone. I took you on because you relate to younger people and they relate to you. They open up to you. And you get to them in a way I can’t.”

Joshua grimaced. “I know that, but Cassidy—”

A deep woof and a shriek cut off Joshua’s further objection. He turned in time to see Bear rear up and settle his huge front paws on Cassidy Jamison’s narrow shoulders. Woman and dog hit the ground with a thud.

When the shrieking continued, Bear took off for the woods like a shot. Then he saw Joshua and Henry, and turned on a dime to head for Joshua.

“No, Bear!” Josh shouted, but it was too late. Dog and man collided, and there would have been a second thud resounding in the yard except that the yard was still soaked from a recent rain. So this time there came instead a muddy splat.

Then the dog, whimpering and panicked, tried to curl up on top of Joshua. When that didn’t provide enough security, he tried crawling under his now-filthy owner, rolling them both in the mud. It turned into a wrestling match as Joshua tried to subdue the frightened dog.

“Bear! Will you stop it?” Joshua shouted over the din of wild barks and whimpers. “She’s a nice lady. She isn’t going to hurt you.”

When he was finally able to wrap his arms around the dog’s neck to hold him still, Joshua heard Cassidy ask, her tone understandably and utterly incredulous, “Hurt him? He pushed me down.”

“Bear. Sit,” Joshua growled as the dog tried to backpedal away from Cassidy and Henry. “Are you all right?” he asked Cassidy, holding on to Bear and looking up from where he knelt next to the dog.

Cassidy brushed off her jeans and nodded. “Is he always so erratic? I’m not used to dogs but—”

Joshua chuckled. “Bear has two problems. He’s too friendly, which is all he was trying to be when he knocked you down. And he’s chicken. All it took to send him running was for you to scream. He’s yellow as they come. Don’t let the black coat fool you,” he said, ruffling that same pitch-black fur.

Joshua let out a laugh when Bear leaned into him, forcing him to sit in the mud again. Then Bear climbed into his master’s lap. A considerable amount of dog didn’t fit. But he kept trying, spreading the mud farther over Joshua’s clothes.

“Three. He has three problems, Josh,” Henry put in, deadpan. “He weighs a hundred and fifty pounds and thinks he’s a lap dog.” The old pastor frowned. “Well, we have to be honest. He also eats too much, is dumb as a post about what animals it’s not safe to chase, and as a guard dog he’d make a better ambassador of goodwill. Probably lick a burglar to death if one ever came ‘round. Guess that makes six faults. Major ones.”

“You’re a real mess,” Cassidy said as she reached out slowly to pet the soft black fur on the dog’s ruff.

Joshua took her wrist and put her hand on Bear when the dog started whining again. “This is Cassidy,” he told Bear, trying to ignore the feel of Cassidy’s fine-boned wrist beneath his fingers. “She’s a friend. Friend. But no jumping. Got it?”

Bear abandoned Joshua’s lap to sit at Cassidy’s feet. His tail thumping, he handed her his paw, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Joshua chuckled at the stupid love-struck look on the dog’s face. “I think you’ve got a friend for life,” he said, and stood, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Mud streaked his clothes while Cassidy looked as fresh as a spring rain. Bear could be a real ego buster.

Cassidy looked up at him. “Oh, you’re a mess, too,” she sputtered, trying not to laugh.

Joshua looked down at himself and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m a mess, all right,” he admitted, shooting Bear a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sort of look.

“Son, you’d better run and clean up before Irma gets breakfast on,” Henry told him.

Joshua almost used the mud as an escape from eating with them, but then he looked at Cassidy. She was smiling down at Bear. And this time the smile was in her eyes.

Maybe he could help her get her life back on track. “I’ll see y’all at the table.”



Cassidy tossed the book she was reading aside and stared up at the ceiling above the bed. She was at loose ends, with nothing but a book she’d read as a child to occupy her mind. Joshua had gone to help a family whose roof leaked. She imagined Irma was running her diner and Henry had gone to the thrift shop after breakfast. She would have gone to talk to him, but he was working on his sermon for a Wednesday evening service.

She’d really stuck her foot in her mouth when that subject had come up at breakfast. She’d remarked that she’d thought people only went to church once a week—on Sunday. Joshua explained that many churches had a second Sunday evening service, and one on Wednesday night, as well. And yes, there were those who attended all three. He’d also explained that everyone referred to Henry as “Pastor Henry,” not Reverend Tallinger.

Joshua was a compelling man. He was physically a big man, yet he treated his parents with a visible gentleness that was both touching and heartwarming. He had a strength of character that he projected in everything he spoke about during the meal, yet he seemed to depend on his parents in some indefinable but very tangible way. And though he treated his parents with the utmost respect, he called his father “Henry,” which was the biggest contradiction about him of all.

Cassidy sat up and stared at herself in the mirror over the dresser. “Stop thinking about him!” she ordered herself. So his touch disturbed her. So he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. He was also a hayseed preacher who fixed roofs and had an ill-mannered dog. And since when was she so curious about an unsuitable stranger? she thought stubbornly.

She needed to do something to get her mind off him and onto the things she needed to think about. A walk. She’d take a walk. Commune with nature. That was it.

Irma was in the kitchen when she walked by, so Cassidy stuck her head in the door. “I thought I’d take a walk. Which direction would you suggest?”

“There’s a nice trail through the woods out behind the house. Joshua marked it and keeps it cleared. When you come to the fork in the trail, follow the sign that points to town. It’s written right on the sign. The other way is to our cabin, and that’s not a walk. It’s a six-mile hike up the mountain.”

“Town sounds perfect. Did Josh mark it for your summer guests?”

Irma chuckled. “Goodness, no. We don’t get that many. He marked it for himself. That boy has no sense of direction whatsoever.”

“Did he go to school in the south?” Cassidy asked, and could have bitten her tongue. What was wrong with her?

Irma frowned. “What’s that got to do with his sense of direction?”

“Nothing. Forget I asked, please.”

“But why would you think that?” Irma pressed.

Now she was really sorry she’d let her curiosity get the better of her common sense. “’Y’all.’ He said ‘y’all’ earlier,” she explained. “It’s a southern expression.”

Irma walked to the center island and started shelling peas, a worried and thoughtful expression on her lined face. “He does say that now and again, doesn’t he? Hmm. Now there’s food for thought.”

“Thought about what?” Cassidy asked before she could stop herself.

“Oh, about where he’s from,” Irma said matter-offactly. “He could have heard it in a movie or on TV, and it might have felt familiar on his tongue.”

Now it was Cassidy’s turn to frown. How could his own mother forget where Joshua was raised? Irma was up there in years and she seemed hale and hearty, but perhaps her mind wasn’t as sound as Cassidy had assumed. She walked over to Irma, leaning her elbows on the island so she could watch Irma’s expression.

“Josh is from Mountain View,” Cassidy replied carefully, and waited for a reaction.

Irma smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no, dear, he isn’t. Joshua didn’t grow up here. He isn’t our blood son.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened. “But he calls you ‘Ma.’ I will admit his calling your husband ‘Henry’ surprised me but—”

“Joshua is the child we never had. He’s become our son since he came to us, but we never laid eyes on him till almost five-and-a-half years ago.”

“He came here to be your husband’s assistant, and you still don’t know where he grew up?”

Irma patted her hand, then pushed the bag of peas to rest between them. “No, we found him, dear. He was lying beside the road in a ditch, all broken and beaten. Henry and I—we just couldn’t forget that face of his once the ambulance came and took him to the hospital. We went to see him and just kept going back. He had no identification on him, you see. We were all he had. I’ve never prayed as hard for anything in my life as I did that that boy would live and wake up whole. The doctors didn’t give him much of a chance, but we just kept praying over him. He’s a miracle, that boy of ours.”

“You got your wish,” Cassidy said, smiling.

Irma shook her gray head. “It wasn’t a wish, child. It was a prayer. And no. I didn’t get all of what I asked for. I got more and less. The Lord works in strange ways. Joshua’s proof positive of that. You see, when he finally did wake from the coma six months later, he couldn’t talk or walk. We all soon realized that he had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. It was gone—his whole life. The doctors guessed that between twenty-five and thirty years were just…gone. And he was completely alone in the world.”

Cassidy felt as if a hand had reached into her chest and had a choke-hold on her heart. She looked down and realized that she was automatically opening the pea pods and dumping the peas in a bowl that Irma must have put in front of her. “But he doesn’t seem brain damaged.”

“The doctors thought that he was at first, but he relearned language so fast that they decided he had severe amnesia.”

“And his past has never come back?”

“Just little impressions and vague knowledge that he doesn’t remember learning.”

“But his past could still come back to him?” Cassidy asked.

Irma pursed her lips and shook her head. “After this long, that isn’t likely according to his doctor. He came to live with us when he was discharged. I was a teacher and I was the most qualified to teach him all he needed to know. Besides, we loved him already.”

Then his attachment to the Tallingers was almost like that of a child for his parents. “So he calls you ‘Ma’ because you became his mother, but why doesn’t he call Henry ‘Dad’ or ‘Pa’?”

“Joshua isn’t sure. He said it doesn’t feel like a compliment to him. Maybe he didn’t have a good relationship with his real father. It’s one of those vague feelings Joshua gets—and Henry doesn’t care what Joshua calls him. He just loves his Josh the way he is and is grateful to have him with us.” Irma picked up both bowls, moved toward a pot on the stove and dumped in the peas for cooking. “Besides,” she continued, “he didn’t start out to call me ‘Ma.’ He just couldn’t get his tongue around ‘Ir-ma’ at first, and it came out ‘Ma.’ He laughed. I laughed. And he just kept calling me ‘Ma.’”

“This is all so incredible. Like a movie of the week or something.”

“No. It’s a miracle is what it is,” Irma said. “Those doctors didn’t give him a ghost of a chance to live, let alone thrive the way he has.” Irma turned back to Cassidy, her pale eyes lit with pride, though her expression was serious. “His mind’s so quick, all he has to do is read something once and he knows it. I taught school for thirty years and I never had a brighter student. And there’s nothing he can’t fix if it’s broken, either. The only two problems he’s left with are the loss of memory and the fact he just says whatever pops into his mind. Of course, there’s that sense of direction of his, too.” Irma laughed. “But who knows if he wasn’t always like that. He’s a special man, and we’re proud of him.”

Cassidy could see that they were, but wouldn’t his real family have felt the same way? Cassidy could only imagine their suffering. “Hasn’t anyone tried to find out where he belongs?”

“I’ve thought from the first that he belongs right here, but we did try. We had people from that TV mystery show come up here and take his picture and film an interview with him about nine or ten months after he came to live with us. They did a whole story on him.” She snorted in derision. “He was terribly embarrassed, and all for nothing. Nothing ever came of it. It’s like he appeared out of nowhere. I like to think that the Lord meant for us to find him and bring him into our home. And Joshua has gone on to built a satisfying life for himself in the Lord’s service.”

He seemed to have, but Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder about the people he’d spent those first twenty-five or thirty years with. She knew what their grief felt like. She remembered back to when she was eight years old. She’d awakened in a hospital to find her grandfather by her bed, telling her that her parents were dead. A wall of snow had come crashing into their vacation home while they’d sat snuggled around the fire, and had swept them from her life. The people in Joshua’s life would have felt the same tearing grief she had. That she still did feel twenty years later.

She was glad that at a time when Joshua was all alone in the world he had found the kind of unconditional love parents give. Because though Cassidy’s grandfather had raised her, she still felt she had to earn his love—one day at a time.




Chapter Four


Cassidy wandered aimlessly along the marked trail through the woods. She’d put off her walk until after lunch, having continued to help Irma in the kitchen. Taking the time to cook from scratch was something she rarely did, and she found it, and the time with Irma, strangely soothing.

Soon after sharing a noon meal with the older couple, she’d returned to her room and had fallen into a deep sleep. When she’d awakened, refreshed but no more settled, she’d set off for the walk she’d planned that morning.

After hearing about all Joshua had endured, she felt selfish and childish for dwelling on what were minor problems in her own life. She would eventually take over the presidency of Jamison Steel, so what did it really matter if she hadn’t been given the vice presidency? Why was she so unhappy and tense? She could only hope this vacation, impetuously taken, would put her disappointment and hurt into perspective.

Irma had told her the trail would lead her to the far end of Mountain View. Though she was sure there was little to see in the small town, at least it would give her the opportunity to observe the town up close and personal. She could even check to see if Earl was closer to looking at her car.

The sharp crack of a breaking branch to her left stopped Cassidy in her tracks. She moved only her head, and was left breathless by the sight of a doe standing almost as still as a statue. It stared unblinkingly at her. The only sign of life the animal revealed was a quivering muscle high on its haunch.

At that moment a powerful need to recreate the scene on paper gripped Cassidy. Her fingers fairly itched to hold a sketch pad and pencil. In her mind’s eye she could already see the finished picture. The doe would stand frozen in time, surrounded by the stark November woodlands—and fear. It would be in charcoal, she decided—a little sad and a little edgy.

But Cassidy shook her head and banished the vision. The dream. Her sudden movement freed the deer, who bounded away. And once again she said goodbye to her heart’s desire. It was not for her. She had taken a different path. One devoid of creativity and art.

For if there was one thing she did know about herself, it was that she couldn’t devote only half her soul to something that consumed her. And where art was concerned, she always reacted the same way. Whenever she picked up a pencil or a brush, the rest of the world simply faded away—ceased to exist. She became her talent. And her talent became her. It took all her energy. All her heart. And she’d learned it the hard way when she’d tried to split herself in two during college. She’d felt just that—split. Torn. After a near breakdown late in her senior year, she’d made her decision.

She had put away her youthful dreams and passion for an unstable, nearly unattainable success in art, and had marched into adulthood at her grandfather’s side, fulfilling her destiny. She was a Jamison.

She hadn’t painted since graduation. She hadn’t even let herself doodle on her ink blotter. She could not open that door again. It would be ungrateful. Grandfather was counting on her.

But then the memory of yesterday in his office pierced her thoughts. Her heart. And his betrayal made her soul cry out once again. He hadn’t seemed to need her at all when naming Jon Reed his vice president. Remembering her last angry words to the old man who’d been her anchor in life left Cassidy feeling at sea. As domineering and gruff as he was, Grandfather had truly been her port in a storm since she was six and that wall of snow had wiped out her world in one blinding minute.

She forced her mind from the painful past and the embarrassing scene at Jamison Steel. Hadn’t she already decided that it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things? Instantly, Joshua and all she’d learned about him from Irma filled her thoughts. Aside from being kind, gentle and handsome, he was a strong, courageous person, not only to have survived but to have flourished as he had. He would laugh at her whining over the loss of her dream of a fulfilling career in the art world. At least she could remember the dreams she’d put aside. As misty as her memory of her parents was, she did remember her mother’s soft voice soothing her and her father’s big strong hands holding her.

What must Joshua’s life be like? He must live only in the present. Maybe for the future, too. Because anything else would be fruitless and painful.

She recalled his low comment to Irma the day before when the older woman had noticed him stare off into space. “Just knew something I shouldn’t,” he’d muttered. Did that mean snatches of his past came back to haunt him? An ever-present reminder of all he’d lost?

Sunshine broke through the trees, and Cassidy looked up into the sun-drenched sky. She’d arrived at the end of the trail.

The first building she came to was a large, three-story, boarded-up Victorian with a half-attached, weather-beaten sign hanging from the gatepost. Swenson’s Bed and Breakfast, the faded letters declared on the sign that bobbled in the breeze. The fence the gate was attached to was a wobbly picket-type that had even less paint than it had stability.

The house fired Cassidy’s imagination, though it was every bit as weather-beaten as the sign and fence. It had once been lovely. She visualized its faded, peeling colors crisp and bright again, its windows shining in the sunlight, and the fence restored to its once stalwart position of authority. The upstairs tower room with its circle of tall windows would be unbelievably perfect as a studio. There was something about the house that struck a cord deep inside that said family and security.

“Wouldn’t you love to get your hands on the place?” Joshua asked from behind her. “I know I would.”

Cassidy whirled around. He sat in an old beat-up truck that he’d pulled to the side of the road. She smiled. “You’d get a ticket in Philadelphia for parking facing the wrong way.”

Joshua set the brake and opened the door. He chuckled. “But this is Mountain View. In a town with probably fewer than thirty cars in a ten-mile radius, with three of those in the shop, and the rest parked at job sites, it hardly matters.”

Cassidy glanced away from his charming grin and looked around town, wondering how he kept his sanity in such an isolated place. “I see your point. Do you even have a sheriff or a policeman around here?”

“The state police patrol the area. Their barracks is out on the interstate.”

So even the state police hadn’t been able to find Joshua’s origins. “Are you finished with that roof you were fixing?”

“For now, till it leaks again.”

“Why not just put on a whole new one?”

“Because they can’t afford it and they won’t accept charity. Patching is neighborly. Replacing isn’t. You see?”

Embarrassed, Cassidy nodded and turned back toward the house. She would never have thought of that. Grace and intuition must be inborn, she decided, because she didn’t see how he could have learned that kind of insight into the delicate feelings of others in only five years, especially with all the other things he’d had to relearn. Her admiration for him grew dangerously.

“Does anyone own this?” she asked to distract herself from risky thoughts of him and his apparently stellar character.

“The Swensons still own it but they don’t live here anymore. They moved to Georgia to live with their son about ten years ago. The place apparently got too much for them to handle. It’s been for sale for years, but it hasn’t sold.”

Joshua stepped by her and inside the gate. His movement set the sign swinging. “Summer people don’t usually want anything this big, and we don’t get many year-round families moving into the area,” he continued. “It’s actually pretty stable. The roof’s sound. Henry and I boarded the windows up when some summer kids thought it was funny to break them out.”

“That was kind of you.”

He shrugged. “Just being a good neighbor. I check on the place every now and again for the real estate people. That’s what I was about to do. Want to see the inside? I’m sure no one would care if you tag along.”

Cassidy stared up at the house and realized what it was that called to her. It reminded her of her home—the one in suburban Philadelphia that she’d shared with her parents until that fateful vacation when she’d lost them. She didn’t think she’d really had a home since. “I’d love to see it,” she said automatically. Then she remembered his ever-present companion. “Where’s Bear?” She really wasn’t up for another of the dog’s greetings without ample warning.

“You’re safe from his adoration for now. He’s asleep in the back of the truck. He spent the day chasing kids, rabbits and a bunch of barn cats. He’s been out like a light since I pulled away from the Wilsons’.”

Joshua stepped back, holding the gate open, and swept his arm toward the front door in a gesture that reminded her of a piece of Shakespearean stage direction. “After you, fair lady,” he said, doffing his baseball cap.

Cassidy laughed at the silly gesture, and Josh laughed, too. “Is there any furniture left?” she asked as they sauntered along the walk to the house.

“Almost all of it. Ma dusts the place up every now and again, hoping that if we keep it nice for the Swensons, it’ll sell.”

“And why don’t you dust it? Not men’s work?”

“No. She says I don’t see the dust. I think she’s being a fanatic about a few specks.” He shook his head and grinned that killer grin of his. “She says I suffer from what she calls ‘male blindness.’ Ma’s a real ego bruiser, I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed how cruel she is to you.”

“Hey, she can be one tough lady,” he protested as he vaulted up the porch steps. “Don’t let that fairy-godmother face fool you.”

Cassidy was helpless to contain the giggle that bubbled up from somewhere inside her. “That’s exactly what I thought when I first met her.”

“Cinderella’s fairy godmother come to life. That’s Irma,” Josh said over his shoulder as he unlocked the door.

“All she’s missing is the wand,” Cassidy agreed as she followed him toward the front door. He had it unlocked and opened before she reached it. Though boarded up, there was a beautiful frosted glass panel in the door that remained undamaged. Unconsciously she ran her fingers over the expertly etched flowers. “Beautiful,” she whispered to herself.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg. This place is a gem just waiting to be polished.”

Cassidy stepped inside the foyer as Joshua flipped on the lights. She immediately understood the love for the old house that she’d heard in his voice. If the rest of it was as wonderful as the sweeping staircase and oak wainscot panels, this house really was a gem. “So why don’t you buy it and polish it to your heart’s content?”

He shook his dark head. “Because even though they aren’t asking much and I could afford it on my salary, it’s too big for one person. This old place deserves a family. Or at least to be turned back into a B & B so a lot of people can enjoy it. I don’t have a family or the inclination to run a B & B. But I’d love the process of watching it come alive again. Can you understand that?”

“Maybe you ought to rethink your profession. You sound more like a carpenter than a country preacher.”

Joshua chuckled. “Well, that’s kind of appropriate, since I serve a carpenter who became a preacher. I like to build things, fix things up—but it’s a hobby, not a calling like my work with Henry.”

“I just meant that carpentry and cabinet-making is a more lucrative profession.”

“But it wouldn’t be nearly as fulfilling. I really think that has to be the most important thing in choosing your life’s work.”

“I suppose. It’s a shame we can’t all be as fortunate as you’ve been in finding both a profession and a hobby.”

Joshua stood in front of a set of floor-to-ceiling doors with his thumbs hooked in the front belt loops of his jeans. He stood casually, but the look in his eyes was anything but. “If you’re so unhappy in what you do, then why don’t you look for another job that won’t give you ulcers.”

His comment cut a little too close to the bone for comfort, and Cassidy stiffened. “It isn’t my job. I’m where I belong. I just need to find a way to cope with stress better. That’s all.”

“So what exactly is all the stress from? What kind of work do you do?”

“Until yesterday I was acting vice president of Jamison Steel. I’ve been running the Information Systems department.”

Josh heard a note of hurt in her voice. He narrowed his eyes, watching for her reaction to his next question. “Why until yesterday?”

“My grandfather appointed someone to the position permanently.”

“But not you,” he said, “even though you’ve been doing the job?”

“No. I was hurt at first, but I realize now that it wasn’t all that important. After all, I’ll be running Jamison someday. This will just give me a chance to learn other areas of the company in more depth.”

“But you still have to be deeply hurt.”

“No,” she snapped, needing desperately to believe that she was indeed over her hurt. “I understood. It was a business decision.”

“You’re still hurt. I hear it in your voice. You shouldn’t deny your feelings. No wonder you have ulcers if you hold all your emotions inside you like this. I know it hurts most when it’s a family member who deals the blow that—” Joshua cut off the thought, his eyes widening in what looked like shock. He looked upset, but at that moment she didn’t care. She couldn’t let her grandfather’s decision matter because then she’d never be able to return to work. And returning to Jamison Steel was her duty.

“If I’m hurt, I’ll get over it. Do I have to stand here being analyzed as payment for seeing the house?”

Joshua turned away and slid open a set of pocket doors. “This was the parlor,” he said, as if neither of them had spoken of anything other than the house.



Joshua closed and locked the front door to the Swenson house as Cassidy hurried along the walkway toward the street. He wished he could help her. He didn’t know why Henry thought Josh could, but Josh wanted to try. Sometimes she seemed like two different people. The nervous, tense, rich girl who’d become short with him when he’d touched a nerve. And the sentimental dreamer who’d so clearly fallen in love with the Swenson place. He’d really like to get to know that person.

The trouble was that since she’d arrived she had stirred up too many feelings inside him. Some he understood, like his attraction to her. But others were shadows and whispers of a past that seemed lost to him. And he had felt them again when she’d related her story of being passed over for the promotion by her grandfather. He’d felt her pain as if it were, and had once been, his own.

There was also the problem that most times when he said anything that called her life-style into question, she got angry. That was a huge roadblock. He shrugged. Maybe he needed to take another route with her. Maybe he could show her how the other half lived. Maybe if she saw firsthand that money and power weren’t the way to true happiness, that knowledge would stay with her when she returned home to the rat race of her life in Philadelphia.

“Want a ride home?” he called after her retreating back.

Cassidy stopped and pivoted toward him. “I thought I’d stop and see how much closer Earl is to looking at my car. I honestly don’t see why he can’t just look at it sooner. If he’d looked at it this morning, he could have ordered the part it needs by now. I’d be that much closer to getting on the road to Mountain Top or one of the other resorts up here.”

Josh could easily have offered to take her on to one of those high-priced resorts. They weren’t all that far away. But he knew Henry was right. Cassidy’s unhappiness was deeper than just ill health and being passed over for a promotion. She needed to recognize that she must find a new direction for her life, or she’d never really get well. Doctors would cure the ulcer…and then her tension headaches would blossom into migraines or she’d have to battle high blood pressure. Something else would buckle, and her strong will would carry her forward on what he’d begun to suspect was the wrong path for her.

“Mind if I tag along?” he asked as he caught up with her.

“I’m on foot these days, but suit yourself. You could point out the other points of interest in town. We’ll call it a walking tour.”

Josh grimaced. “You may as well hop into the truck. I need to stop at Earl’s for gas, and you just saw our only point of interest. Everything else is closed up till summer. We don’t get the ski trade here. The hunters who come through don’t need more than gas at Earl’s, the occasional hot meal at Irma’s and the odd item at The Trading Post, so the shop owners don’t bother to stay open in late fall or winter.”

Joshua found his attention snagged by the look in her stormy blue eyes. He would swear he could see the wheels turning behind those arresting eyes of hers.

“Maybe you could talk Earl into looking at my car sooner.”

“Earl’s been known to be pretty stubborn,” he warned.

She grinned. “But we’ve already established how stubborn each of us is. If we double-team him, we can talk him into looking at it today.”

Before he could protest his unwillingness to put undue pressure on Earl, she barreled around the truck and opened the passenger door. Joshua stared at her over the hood, not knowing what to say. Sometimes she reminded him of a steamroller, and others, like when he’d seen her staring up at the Swenson house, of a sad little girl. A honk of the pickup’s horn made him grin. He guessed she was a little of both.

“I’m coming. You’ve got to slow down, little lady,” he drawled. It was a southern parody of Earl’s upstate Pennsylvania twang, but it was the best he could do. “You’re on Mountain View time now.”

She shot him a look full of exasperation. “Hopefully not for long.”

“You know, I’m starting to get real insulted on behalf of everyone in town over this hurry of yours to get out of our little burg.”

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh. “It isn’t what the town is so much as what it isn’t. Let’s just say this isn’t my idea of a vacation.”

“Well then, what is?” he asked as he started the car.

“I don’t know. Maybe a day or two lying by a pool and sleeping in—but then I’d want to do things. See things. Go places. Make memories to take out and remember when life drives me crazy.”

“Sounds like just another variation on your everyday life. To me, a vacation would be to live in a way I don’t usually live. I see your idea of a vacation as the kind I should take and staying in Mountain View as exactly what you need.”

He made a left into Earl’s and took the opportunity to glance at Cassidy to gauge her reaction to what he’d said. She looked thoughtful, if nothing else. A little progress, he thought, but before he could enjoy the triumph, he brought the truck to a stop and she jumped out of the car. By the time he’d set the brake, she was already off searching for Earl.

“…but this is the same car you were working on yesterday,” she was saying when he came upon them inside the garage after he’d pumped his gas.

“Well, now that’s mighty observant of you to notice, little lady. And I do appreciate your concern. I had a devil of a time loosening the bolts to…Oh, there I go running off at the mouth. You wouldn’t know a water pump from a fuel pump, would you?”

“No, I’m sure I wouldn’t,” Cassidy admitted, her tone aggressive and businesslike. “And yes, I am concerned. You said you couldn’t look at my car until you did the work on the other people’s cars who were in line ahead of me. But now that won’t be for another day longer. I need to get out of here.”

Joshua noticed Earl’s eyes shift to him as he stepped behind Cassidy. There was something calculating and shrewd in his expression that Josh had never noticed before.

“How’s Irma and Henry today?” Earl asked as he reached out to take the money Joshua held out. “I haven’t even had time to stop for lunch so I didn’t get on over to the diner yet today.”

“It was Molly’s day to work the morning and early afternoon shift. Ma’s probably there by now. You really ought to stop and rest for a while.”

Earl glanced at the car he had on the lift, then back to them. “You know, I think I will. In fact, I may call it a day. You headed for the diner, too? If you wait while I wash up, I’ll walk along with you.”

Joshua gestured toward the money. “I’ve got the truck. I’m just headed back from the Wilsons’.”

“I’ll be seeing you there then, I suppose,” Earl said, and ambled off toward his washroom.

It only took a split second for Cassidy to round on him. “You were supposed to talk him into looking at my car sooner, not get him to stop for the day!”

“Didn’t you notice how tired he was? Earl’s not as young as he looks. He needs to take it a little easier. Tell me, what is your big hurry to move on?”

“I told you, I want a vacation.”

“So roll with the punches and make this your vacation. What you need is time to think, not just time away from work. Everyone needs to evaluate their choices in life occasionally. Maybe you didn’t land in Mountain View by accident. God may have put you here. This town and your car trouble may be His way of speaking to you. I think He’s telling you to slow down and take some time to think things out. What better place to do it than here? You have to admit that there’s very little to distract you.”

Standing there in the center of Earl’s garage, Joshua waited to hear her tell him to mind his own business. That God didn’t speak to people like that. He was even prepared to hear that in her opinion God didn’t exist. But none of those things happened. Cassidy nodded and walked quietly—thoughtfully—away.

At the doorway she stopped and turned to him. “’In God we trust.’ It’s on the penny. I told Him to send me where He wanted me to go if He really existed. I flipped it every time I needed to choose a direction. I never stopped to think that He’d actually answer me. Maybe He did send me here. Thanks, Joshua. I’d forgotten. I’ll give it a few days.” She started to turn away, but stopped and looked around. “Your God really has a sense of humor, doesn’t he.”

Confused, Josh frowned. “With a dog like mine and Him being the Creator, that’s a hard one to argue, but why in particular do you think that?”

“My regular mechanic has a cappuccino bar and leather sofas in his waiting room.”




Chapter Five


Cassidy heard Joshua call her name just as she passed the spot where he’d pulled his truck up to the gas pump. She needed to take time to do some of that thinking Joshua was so convinced she should do, so she planned to walk back to the parsonage through town. She stopped and reluctantly looked back. She’d agreed to try it his way for a few days even though she thought he was way off base, so what more did he want from her?

“I thought we’d eat dinner at the café,” he said, as if he’d heard her silent question.

To Cassidy, dinner suddenly sounded like a gigantic commitment. She knew she was being ridiculous but there it was. “Dinner?”

“Henry and I usually walk down and eat at the café on the nights Ma handles the dinner shift. It keeps her from having to cook again at home. She was only there when you arrived last night because the regular girl came in later than usual.”

Either she agreed to spend even more time with Joshua, or she’d force Irma to cook a special meal for her later. Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d unwisely spent time with him at the Swenson house? This man, this…country preacher-carpenter was a menace! He’d seen through the lies she’d nearly convinced herself were true to the truths she hadn’t wanted to face. And apparently that wasn’t enough for him.

The fact that he was handsome, obviously intelligent, kind and sensitive didn’t help matters at all. He was quite frankly, except for his inappropriate tax bracket, the man of her dreams. Why couldn’t he be a corporate executive home to visit his parents rather than a man with no past, no formal education, and, therefore, in her grandfather’s eyes, a man with no future?

“So, is dinner at the café okay with you?” Josh asked again, dragging Cassidy out of the fog of her confused thoughts. Well, there was no help for it. Her answer was a given.

“Of course,” she snapped, completely exasperated by her suddenly out-of-control emotions and life. “I wouldn’t want to cause Irma extra work.”

Something akin to hurt flashed in Joshua’s beautiful brown eyes. “Do you want a ride down or would you rather go on alone?” he asked in an unmistakably brusque manner.

Cassidy felt about as small as an ant at that moment. He’d been nothing but kind and friendly to her. He’d pried into her personal life, true. But considering his calling as a minister, she truly believed he had only the best of intentions. And now that she’d pushed him away, she realized that it was the last thing she really wanted. She could use a friend just now, and it may as well be Josh. What, after all, could happen between them in the few days she’d be in town?

She hugged her thrift-store jacket to herself. “It’s chilly but still looks like it should be a nice evening. We probably won’t see many more like it for a while. Why don’t you walk down to the café with me? We can come back for the truck later.”

An eyebrow arched over one of his dark, expressive eyes. “I got the impression that I’d been royally dismissed.”

Cassidy shook her head. “No. Pushed away momentarily. And I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing my personal feelings. Nor letting anyone close enough for me to want to share them. It just spooked me for a minute there. I was feeling hemmed in, but it wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

Joshua nodded his acceptance of her apology. “The walk sounds like a good idea,” he agreed, and they set off toward Irma’s Café.

They’d walked in silence for a minute or two when Joshua stopped. “Bear. I’d better wake him up and bring him along. Last time I left him alone in the truck, we found him cowering and shaking with his paws over his eyes. He’s been afraid of the dark ever since.”

Cassidy couldn’t help the spurt of laughter that erupted as they turned back toward the truck. “He’s afraid of the dark? Is that why Irma has all those night-lights all over the house?”

His mouth kicked up on one side. “Pitiful, huh?”

“You could get that dog on TV with that late-night talk show host who likes stupid pets.”

Josh laughed. “No. That’s stupid pet tricks. Bear’s just a stupid pet. But he’s lovable and loyal. And when I found him, I really needed something of my own.”

Cassidy didn’t know whether to reveal what Irma had told her about him or not, but lying to him even by omission seemed inherently wrong. “Irma told me how you came to live with them and about your memory. I hope you don’t mind. We started talking and…”

“It’s okay. It’s the way my life is. Everyone in town knows. I’ve come to grips with most of it, and the rest will come with time and the Lord’s grace.”

“You have an incredible attitude.”

“Not really. I’ve just been incredibly lucky. I don’t have a clue what my real parents were like, but I can’t imagine them being better people than Irma and Henry.”

“I imagine you’re right. They are wonderful people.”

“I think the three of us being together is God’s plan. Since Henry turned eighty, he’s slowed down. So has Ma,” he said as his beautiful mouth formed a teasing grin, “though I’d never let her hear me say that. They were there for me when I needed them. Ma taught me so much. She spent an untold number of hours teaching me how to talk, read, do math. Then Henry not only helped me forge a new life, but showed me the path to an eternity in heaven by teaching me about Jesus Christ and His saving grace. In the beginning, I relied on them pretty heavily, and now they lean on me. God’s been incredibly good to us by bringing us together.”

“You know, Joshua, you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Would you answer a burning question for me? How did you get your name?”

“Henry hated that they called me ‘John Doe’ at the hospital, so one day he balanced his Bible on the spine and helped me hold it between my hands. He told me we were going to let the Lord choose a name for me. Then he pulled my hands off the book and it fell open to Joshua. He closed it and did it again, and it fell open at Daniel. So I became Joshua Daniels. I even have a Social Security card and driver’s license under that name.”

“So your last name is Daniels. I thought you were their real son and that Daniel was your middle name. I guess your Lord was good to you. Think of the name you could have wound up with by using that method.”

They’d reached the truck where Bear was sleeping like a baby. “Bear!” Josh called out, and shook the truck bed. “Come on, boy. Wake up!”

Bear lay still as a rock.

“He’s kind of a deep sleeper,” Joshua explained, then clapped his hands loudly over the side of the truck bed near the dog.

The furry mound produced a paw that landed over a floppy ear. Other than that, he showed no movement except a sigh and deepened breathing.

“Maybe you should reach in and shake him,” she suggested.

Josh tried her suggestion, but to no avail. “I guess it’s time to pull out the big guns. Come on, Bear. Let’s go have dinner at Ma’s.”

A furry head popped up, followed quickly by the rest of the dog as he careened recklessly over the side of the truck, nearly knocking Joshua over. Bear was gone like a flash, running and barking down the road toward Irma’s Café.

“Will she feed him?” Cassidy asked.

“Sure. She’s crazy about him. But she may not feed me. I’m in for it when we get down there. He’ll go charging into the place and start begging for handouts. Bear’s just nuts for Ma’s cooking.”

“I imagine everyone in town is.”

“Yeah,” Josh conceded, then chuckled, “but they have lots better table manners.”



Two days later, winter had really begun to make her approach known. Fending for herself in Irma’s kitchen by subsisting on leftovers eaten in the privacy of her room, Cassidy had avoided Joshua like the plague. The quick dinner with him had been wonderful but, as she’d feared, dangerous. He was too compelling. Too comfortable with who he was. His grin was too charming. She just couldn’t concentrate around him.

So she’d hidden away, determined to think through her problems. And now Cassidy was tired of thinking. Especially because all it did was make her more unhappy since she’d come to a monumental conclusion.

She was miserable.

Not just miserable because she’d been passed over for a promotion. But miserable with her job at Jamison itself. And with her whole life.

She worked constantly and didn’t have the time to spend any of the substantial salary that she earned with all those hours she put in doing something she hated. And worst of all, Cassidy didn’t have a clue what she could do about it. Despite what she’d said to her grandfather and despite what she’d thought in the days that had followed their showdown in the office, she was all the old man had in this world. She couldn’t just desert him and destroy his dream of handing down his company to his descendants.

She’d call him. She’d talk to him. She’d at least let him know she was safe.

Before she could change her mind, Cassidy lifted the phone extension and dialed his office at Jamison Steel.

“Winston Jamison’s office. Rose Carmichael speaking.”

“Is he there?” she asked the woman who was as close to a mother as she’d had in twenty years.

“Oh, Cassidy, I’m so glad you called. He’s here. I’m just not sure we shouldn’t let him suffer a bit longer.”

“I don’t want him to suffer. At least, not any more,” she added wryly.

“Then you’re too generous. But then, we know that already, don’t we.”

Cassidy ran a hand agitatedly through her short hair. “I don’t want him to worry, Rose.”

“Suppose we compromise? I’ll tell him you called and that you’re fine but that you weren’t ready to talk to him. Once he knows that you’re okay, he’ll be fine. How’s that?”

“He’s not frantic, is he? Won’t he want to know where I am?”

“I wouldn’t call it frantic exactly, and I’ll tell him you called from Tahiti if he asks.”

Remembering that one of his prized assistants recently ran off to Tahiti with his Human Resources vice president made Cassidy chuckle. “You are bad.”

Now Rose chuckled. “And how do you think I’ve controlled the beast all these years? Cassidy,” she said, her tone suddenly sober. “I want you to promise me that you’ll kick back and think seriously about what you want out of life. Forget what your grandfather got you into here at Jamison. He’s a big boy and can take care of himself. Put anything to do with Philly out of your mind, rest and think. Please promise me.”

“I promise,” Cassidy found herself saying.

“Good. Keep in touch. ‘Bye now, sweetheart.”

Cassidy dropped the receiver into the cradle and stared at it. Now where did that leave her? Thinking some more? Considering crazy ideas of where her life had gone wrong?

The thud of an ax in the backyard seemed to mock her. She was a grown woman and she’d been reduced—No! She’d reduced herself to cowering in a room for fear of becoming attached to a wonderful man because her grandfather wouldn’t approve of him. How much, she wondered for the first time since that fateful day when her grandfather had taken charge of her life, did she owe the man who’d raised her? Surely not the rest of her life?



Joshua heard the back door close with its typical wooden slap. It was time to take the screen out and put the glass in for winter. In his mind, he ran a quick list of the winterizing he’d done so far and what he had yet to accomplish. He’d put up the storm windows in mid-October, but Ma liked to be able to let the heat out of the kitchen, so he’d waited for real winter weather to do the door. And Ma couldn’t deny that it was cold today.

Glancing at the pile of wood for the woodstove that he’d stacked up, he mentally checked that off as almost finished. That left getting the shovels out and ready, as well as mounting the plow blade on the truck, but it was early days for that yet.

He swung the ax again, and the log split from top to bottom. A frigid blast of air ruffled his hair, and he smiled. He loved winter, he thought as he took aim at another log. Summer heat sometimes depressed him, but winter revitalized him. He was determined not to speculate on why that was.

“Oh, I hate winter,” Cassidy grumbled at his back.

Startled, Joshua missed the log and buried the head of the ax six inches into the dirt. He pulled the ax out of the ground and spun to face her. “So the recluse has come out of her den. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to sneak up on a man who’s swinging an ax?”

“I didn’t think I was sneaking. That screen door slammed shut loud enough to wake the dead. And if that didn’t, Bear’s rather exuberant greeting would have.”

Josh glanced at his traitor of a dog, who at that moment sat next to Cassidy, a huge bone sticking out the sides of his mouth and his eyes glowing with puppy-love as he stared up at her.

“Cassie, you’ve created a monster. Now he’s going to follow you everywhere whining and hoping for more treats.” Josh was shocked by the stricken look on her now-pale face. He dropped the ax and went to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he reached out to grip her upper arms, afraid she might drop at his feet.

She blinked as if she’d just realized where she was. “Cassie,” she said, her voice shaken and low. “No one calls me Cassie. Not since Cassie went on vacation and came home Cassidy.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, though he still had no idea what he’d done or what her cryptic comment meant. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It was just…I guess a blast from the past is the only way to describe it.”

Josh sat back against the hip-high stump of a long-dead tree that he’d been whittling away at for the past several weeks. He took his baseball cap off and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his plaid flannel shirt, all the while considering her. “I understand how that can be,” he said carefully. “I never know why it happens. But you do. Do you want to talk about why hearing a nickname turned you three shades of pale?”

“When I was a young child, my parents called me Cassie. We went to Colorado for a skiing holiday when I was six. They loved to ski and so did I. They taught me before I could ride a two-wheeler. One minute we were singing by the fire in our rented cabin, and the next there came this roar that I’ll never forget. I can still see my father jump up and run to the big window that faced the mountain. My mother was right on his heels. He turned back and opened his mouth to say something. But he never got it out. I remember that the windows were black as the night, and in a split second they turned white, then burst inward behind him. The next thing I knew I was being swept away into a world that was cold and white—then everything went black.”

“Avalanche?” Josh guessed, horrified for the child she’d been.

Cassidy nodded, biting her lip, her eyes full of tears. “I woke up a few times before the rescuers found me. I remember crying for my parents. Being cold. Then even the cold faded. I woke in the hospital with my grandfather sitting by my bedside. ‘Cassidy,’ he said, ‘you’re going to have to be very brave. Your parents are dead. We’re all the family each other has now. We have to stick together so we can carry on the Jamison name.’ Until that moment, I was just Cassie. After this, I was Cassidy Jamison, heir to Jamison Steel. And you know what? I don’t mind you calling me Cassie at all because I think I need to be her again.”

“That’s an awfully large burden to put on a child,” Joshua commented, then realized that he was holding her again, albeit loosely by her forearms. He let go quickly and stepped back, saying a quick prayer for strength. He was supposed to counsel her, not hug her. He was supposed to care about her, not come to care for her. It was a probably a fine balance, but he was sure there was an almost physical line—and one he could not cross. He didn’t have the right.

He cleared his throat. “So while you’ve been playing hermit up there in Ma’s prize guest room, you’ve been thinking,” he quipped, hoping to sound at ease. “That’s good. But dwelling on your problems too much is as bad as pretending they don’t exist. I have an idea. I visit an older woman who lives up the mountain. She’s a shut-in. Would you like to go along for a change of scenery? The view of the valley from her back porch is spectacular.”

Josh held his breath, waiting, hoping she’d agree. He could see that she needed a break. Maybe if she saw how difficult someone else’s life was, she’d forget to dwell on her own unsettled circumstances. And maybe exposure to a woman like Maude would fan the flames of the hunger for spiritual things that she’d given him a glimpse of that night outside Earl’s.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t mind a stranger showing up out of the blue?”

“Maude loves company. She just can’t get in to town much anymore.” Josh decided to take her question as an indication that she wanted to tag along. “You’ll see. She’ll love another person to talk to. Especially a woman.” He picked his watch up off a nearby log and checked the time. “I just need a little time to get washed up. Give me five minutes, and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

Josh left his ax where it was and rushed off before she could change her mind. He tried to put the anticipation that bubbled through him down to the thrill of victory, but he was very much afraid what he felt was excitement over the opportunity just to spend time with her.

Cassidy had already climbed inside the pickup by the time Josh returned. While they traveled, he told her several stories about Maude Herman that were steeped in local color, hoping to prevent the kind of intimacy he’d felt the last time he invited her to ride with him. He failed miserably.

When they arrived, Cassidy jumped out of the cab before he could get his door open, just as she had at Earl’s after they’d look over the Swenson house. But this time she looked ill at ease when he met her at the tailgate. Did she feel the same attraction to him that he felt for her?

No. That wasn’t possible. After all, what had he to offer compared to all the professional men she knew? And that was another reason he’d told Henry he didn’t want to come to care for her. He had absolutely nothing to offer her. It must be that she was still uncertain of Maude’s welcome, he told himself, though he thought uncertainty seemed very un-Cassidy-like.

“You’re sure about this?” she asked, her gray-blue eyes endearingly shy.

“Maude will love having you. Come on.” He took her arm and fought to ignore the electricity he felt flow from her.

“What exactly do you do when you visit her? And why is she a shut-in?” she asked, still a tentative note in her voice.

“I usually read to her and talk to her. She’s crippled with arthritis, has a bad heart that’s kept her from having joint replacements done, and is nearly blind. I also see to occasional repairs. In fact, she has a plumbing problem Ma promised I’d fix when she called on Maude yesterday. You two can get to know each other while I work.”

Josh directed Cassidy up the steps and across the porch. He knocked on the front door and heard Maude call from somewhere in the house, “Come on in.”

Josh opened the door and stopped halfway through to make sure Cassidy followed him. He was glad he had. She stood there with a shocked look on her face. “What?” he asked.

“She doesn’t have her door locked.”

“So?”

“It isn’t safe. Didn’t you say she lives up here all alone?”

“This isn’t the city. No one locks their doors out here.” He looked down at the knob in his hand. “I doubt this old lock even has a key anymore.”

“Well, what are you standing there jawin’ about, Joshua Daniels? Get on in here and stop lettin’ out all my heat!” Maude yelled from the parlor.

“I’m coming, Miss Maude. I even brought you a surprise.” He looked back at Cassie and grinned. “Now you’ve got to come in or she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Cassidy considered him seriously, her stormy-sky eyes narrowed in thought. He fought the urge to squirm. Then her lips tipped up in a wry smile.

“Your life seems to be ruled by women you act as if you’re afraid of,” she said, “but the truth is you just plain adore them.”

“She’s got your number,” Maude shouted. “You comin’ in or not, girl!”

“I’m coming, Miss Maude,” Cassie said, chuckling as she sauntered on by him like royalty consorting with the peasants. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him from the doorway of the parlor. Now her smile and eyes taunted him. “Are you coming, Joshua?”

Josh chuckled ruefully when Maude let out a raucous cackle. He just might regret the day he’d tried to take Cassidy Jamison under his wing because she was capable of turning his life on its quiet ear. In fact, he very much feared she already had.




Chapter Six


Cassidy turned from taunting Joshua to the wizened old woman ensconced in a small recliner. She had a cap of snowy white, wavy hair and wore a pair of thick frameless glasses. Her snap-front housecoat, while bearing the burden of many washes, was still the brightest, cheeriest thing in the room. She made an incongruous statement sitting in an unabashed piece of modern Americana while the rest of the furniture had seen more than half a century’s use.

Thin gingham curtains filtered the light, and old rag rugs dotted the wide planking of the floors. Against one wall sat a tattered old sofa covered with a patchwork quilt that was the same log cabin design as the one Joshua had lent her that first night. She wondered idly if Maude had taught Irma the pattern.

“You that new boarder at Irma’s?” Maude asked.

“I’ve rented a room from the Tallingers, yes.”

A challenging look entered the old woman’s eyes. “Well, you like what you see or are you feelin’ sorry for poor old Maude? If it’s sorry, then go wait in the truck! Got no time for moony youngun’s with more money than sense.”

Cassidy was used to gruff. She’d been raised on gruff and wasn’t in the least intimidated by it. In fact, after the worrisome camaraderie of the ride here, she saw the chance to spar with Maude as a welcome distraction. “I’ve got no problem with what I’ve seen of your house, Miss Maude. It’s homey and clean.”

“Not fancy as yours, though. That what you’re thinking?”

“What I was thinking is that my apartment is about as friendly as a museum. I can guarantee you’d hate it. Actually, the day I left for this unplanned vacation, I more or less decided that I wasn’t too crazy about it myself.”

The old woman gave a sharp nod as if Cassidy had passed some sort of test. “Sit and tell me about yourself. Joshua, you run along and see to my water closet. So tell me, young lady, why’d you fix your home up the way you did if you don’t like it?”

“I didn’t, exactly. I hired a decorator because I didn’t have time to do it myself.”

“Did I hear you right?” Maude asked with a deep frown, and leaned forward. “You have a job that keeps you so busy you had to hire someone to spend your money for you?”

Joshua’s bark of laughter echoed from the doorway. “You tell her, Miss Maude.”

Cassidy scowled and shot him a look that had sent other men scurrying for cover. She’d walked into that one, but refused to let Maude score points for him. He scored enough of them for himself. “I thought you went to fix the plumbing.”

Josh put his hands up as if to ward off an attack and retreated down the hall, his laughter trailing after him.

“You ain’t gonna scare that boy into meekness, child. He’s faced bigger challenges in his lifetime than any of God’s children should ever see, and not buckled.”

Cassidy turned back to face Maude and thought that the old woman was more than a little right. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it,” she said, giving up on the idea of using Maude as a distraction from thinking of Joshua. She felt compelled to hear all she could about his story—about him.

Maude made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Fair’s a weather forecast. Got nothin’ to do with life. In my day, we were happy if we had enough to eat between wakin’ with the sun and the rising of the moon. Now Joshua, he’s doing fine for himself. Got a job he loves working for the Lord Almighty. No better life’s work than that.”

“But he’s lost his whole life. All his wonderful childhood memories are gone,” Cassidy said, her voice breaking. It worried her—how much she cared about his pain.

But she had no time to worry, because the old woman shrugged her thin shoulders in a way that eloquently stated que sera sera, and said, “Could be there aren’t all that many good memories for him to recall. This could all be the Lord’s plan. Maybe Joshua shouldn’t remember a family who never looked for him.”

“It does seem odd that they didn’t, doesn’t it,” Cassidy conceded.

Maude pursed her lips and nodded. “Yep.”

“And he does seem to have a full life.”

“’Course he does. He’s using the gifts the Man upstairs gave him. You should see him with the little ones crawling all over him in the nursery. And he can sit down with the ones that’re just a mite bit older and make the Lord come alive for them. But it’s the older ones in those hard teen years. He can sure talk to them, and, more important, he gets them talking back.”

“I’d like to see that. I’ve only seen him with Irma and Henry.”

“You didn’t go to services last night?”

“No. I had some thinking to do. I’m…confused about my life.”

“Can’t imagine a better place to think than in the Lord’s house, hearing His word preached. He’s the guider of your life, child.”

Cassidy shrugged, discounting that idea. “Why would He care what I do with my life? I have no desire to enter the ministry, believe me.” She’d never relied on God to help her make a decision, until flipping the coin that brought her to Mountain View. A mocking voice inside her head chided, No, you’ve let your grandfather run your life for you.

“You think He doesn’t care what the rest of us do? My brother Ethan prayed every morning for His guidance and wisdom to come to him throughout the day. Far as I can see, he never made a wrong step in life. So tell me, what’s wrong with your life that has you confused? Besides that you hire other people to fix up your house a way you don’t like, of course.”

Cassidy smiled at Maude’s teasing, then sobered when she really thought about how to answer the old woman. “My job is very high pressure, besides requiring long hours. And—” She hesitated, knowing that once she said it aloud, she’d have to own the truth. “And I hate it.”

Maude’s wrinkled face wrinkled even more. “Then, why do it?”

“I work in my grandfather’s steel company. My father was supposed to take over the reins from Grandfather, but my parents were killed when I was six. Grandfather raised me after that. He always told me it was my duty to succeed him since my father was gone. I’m obligated to him. You understand obligation and family ties?”

Maude nodded, her eyes sober.

“Joshua doesn’t,” Cassidy continued. “He has no real family ties. He’s working with Henry because he wants to, not because he has to. I have to. But…” She stopped mid-thought. There was wisdom in the grave murky golden eyes assessing her. And she wanted that wisdom. “Miss Maude, do I owe my grandfather the rest of my life? It doesn’t seem fair, but then, you already told me the real meaning of fair.”

Maude only frowned, obviously deep in thought. She closed her eyes, and several silent minutes later Cassidy realized the old woman had fallen asleep. Disappointment pricked at her, but she shrugged. It was just as well, she thought. She knew the answer Maude would give her. Older people understood duty and honoring their family obligations.

So she sat thumbing through Maude’s Bible and came to the book of Joshua. She remembered Josh’s explanation of how he’d gotten his name, and wondered if Maude was right. Did God really do more than observe from afar? Could the distant Being she’d only thought of in passing for years really care enough about her to guide her life? To want her to be happy?

“I suppose you’ll be rushing back to your grandfather and his company as soon as your car is fixed,” Maude grumbled.

Cassidy fumbled the Bible. “Oh, I thought you’d drifted off!” She looked up into eyes that were shrewd and penetrating.

“Well, of course I did. I’m an old woman. I sleep all the time. Waste of time if you ask me. I don’t have much left before I go home to the Lord, and here I am doing something I don’t want to do but I don’t have a choice. You do. It’s stupid for you to waste your youth trying to be what you aren’t. Now, go keep Joshua company. I’m going to take a nap. A long one this time.”



Joshua looked over his shoulder as he pulled the trash out of the truck bed and tossed it into the Dumpster behind Irma’s Cafe. Cassidy stood leaning against the rear fender of the pickup, looking up at the sky. She’d been quiet ever since he’d left her alone with Maude. He’d taken her up there hoping time with someone with more problems than she had would give Cassie some perspective, but she seemed even more troubled now. “Did Maude say something to upset you?”

Cassidy looked at him as he walked to her side. “Not upset. She gave me a lot to think about. At first she mostly talked about you.”

“A truly terrifying subject, I can see.”

She smiled for the first time in an hour. “You are such a teaser, Joshua Daniels. What I’ve been thinking about are the things she said about God. Her perceptions of Him, and yours and Irma and Henry’s, are so different from any I’ve ever heard before. You all seem to think He really cares. Irma said He even cares what we do with our lives.”

“I believe He does.”

“I guess you must. She also told me not to waste my life doing something I don’t want to do. But Josh, what about that commandment? It’s something about honoring our parents. Wouldn’t that extend to my grandfather, too, since he was my guardian? He wants me to work with him, and I don’t think I want to. How is that honoring his wishes?”

Josh sighed. “I always thought this amnesia of mine was a burden. Maybe it isn’t if pleasing family is this much trouble. I can’t imagine not doing what I do. Doesn’t your grandfather want you to be happy?”

“He thinks Jamison Steel will make me happy.”

“Maybe you need to tell him it doesn’t. It seems to me that if he loves you, he’ll understand. As for God, of course He cares what you do with your life. In Luke 12:6 and 12:7, Jesus tells that even though sparrows aren’t worth a lot of money, God knows about what is happening to every one of them. Now figure that if He cares that much about lowly birds, we’re worth much more to Him. Is it any wonder that He cares much more what is happening to us and what we do with our lives?”

“I guess,” she said almost unconsciously, and returned to her silent perusal of the sky. “Could God have a different plan for me than working at Jamison Steel?”

“I only know that we don’t always understand at the time why things happen or why life takes us in another direction than the one we thought we’d go, but that eventually we understand. Then it’s like this lightbulb goes on and we say, ‘Oh, now I get it.’”

Cassidy crossed her arms. He could see her thinking, her eyes staring unseeingly ahead, yet alive and active. He knew a tough question was coming. She didn’t disappoint him. “Then…if He’s really out there directing things, why not tell us what’s up somehow. And why do awful things happen, like you getting hurt so badly, if He’s the one directing them?”

Josh took a deep breath and said a silent prayer for the right words. “You mean like, why do bad things happen to good people? It’s an age-old question and the answer is really pretty simple. Because He gave us free will, and some people choose to use it for evil or are just careless in the case of accidents.

“I guess there are some things that happen that He could stop like tornados and such, but He doesn’t. And that sort of plays into the first part of your question,” he continued. “If we knew why trials come into our lives, we wouldn’t need to rely on Him. And He wants us to turn to Him. In the tough times when we rely on His strength, He gives us this sweet peace about our circumstance, and we get to know His love better that way.”

“So He could really want me to do something else?”

“Maybe. Or maybe He wants you at least to change your priorities.” Josh dropped an arm behind her onto the wall of the pickup bed and stared off at the sky with her. He wondered if she saw the Lord’s majesty in the stars the way he did.

When Cassidy turned her head and looked up at him, Josh felt as if Jerry Frank’s prize mare had kicked him in the stomach.

“Why can’t life be as simple as this?” she asked, her hand gesturing to the quiet forest scene before them.

“Can’t imagine,” he said.

He stood there staring down into her compelling gaze, at a complete loss for words. All he wanted at that moment was to feel her in his arms and her lips under his. Josh stepped back, sure she would be horrified if she knew what he’d been thinking.

As he turned away, he thought he saw a look of disappointment cross her expression. But when he looked back a split second later, he was sure he’d been wrong.



Josh looked up from the commentary on Daniel he was reading when he heard movement at the door of the study. Cassidy stood framed by the light of the parlor, curiosity written on her features. He glanced around the room with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and cheery fire leaping in the fireplace. He wanted to remember her here in this room he loved so dearly. “Come on in. What can I do for you?”

She shrugged. “I’m sort of at loose ends. What are you doing?”

“Henry’s eyesight isn’t all that good anymore. I’m looking up some references for him.”

“References? You mean where something is in the Bible?”

Josh shook his head. “I’ve got most of that in my head. Henry, too. No, this is more like which church scholar said what. What their insights were into a certain Bible passage or a circumstance in the life of…well, like right now we’re in Daniel.”

She smiled. “One of your heroes if I remember correctly.” Cassidy’s gaze dropped to his crowded desk, then lifted to meet his eyes. “Are biblical commentaries at all like financial commentaries done by leading economists?”

“I would imagine so, except these commentaries have lasted through the centuries.” He gestured with his head toward the books piled about him. “Some of these are recent, some were written hundreds of years ago. They rarely disagree on the basic tenets of faith, but they often do on other matters. Each work is one man’s or men’s opinion.”

“Is that why you study so many different opinions?” she asked, rounding the desk. She looked over the books, then turned and leaned back against the desk.

He pushed away from the desk and rocked his chair back so he could look up at her. She looked so sweet with her oversize flannel shirt hanging to her knees and her gamine face so alive and questioning.

“That’s why,” he answered. “And it’s why Henry taught me to search the Scriptures for myself. I never take anyone’s word for what they say,” he explained, then felt a little wary as he caught the probing look in her eyes.

“How long have you been writing Henry’s sermons for him?”

Josh sat up straighter. “How did you—?”

“I started out doing research for Grandfather a few times when he had to give a speech to the board of directors. But he couldn’t put a speech of his own together from the notes I made because they were facts I thought were pertinent—opinions I agreed with.”

Josh relaxed a little, sure Cassidy wouldn’t hurt Henry by mentioning what she knew. He wondered if Irma had figured it out yet. “He just can’t do both sermons anymore. His eyes tire too easily. I do every other Wednesday’s Bible study service myself, and write the following Sunday’s message for him. By then, he’s able to do the next Wednesday’s by himself.”

“So then you prepare his Sunday message again and Wednesday’s so he can handle the following Sunday himself. Is that about the way it goes?”

“Not too much gets by you. Henry deserves any help I can give him. He and Irma saved my life as well as my sanity after I came to and had nothing to cling to but them. Henry shouldn’t have to step down as pastor until he’s ready to do it. He lives for his church and its parishioners.”

She nodded. “I can see that. So tell me about Daniel. What’s it about?”

“It’s one of the hardest books other than Revelations to study, and one of the most attacked because of how accurate the prophecy is. Many people try to say it was written later than it was. His prophecy is so accurate that he foretold to the day when Jesus Christ would ride triumphant into Jerusalem.”

She picked up the notes he’d finished on the third chapter of John for the following Wednesday night’s service. “’For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved.’”

Cassie looked up, her eyes alive with hope and questions. He wanted more than to lead her to Jesus at that moment. He wanted to see that wonder and happiness every day of his life. He also knew it was impossible.

“Do you believe this?” she asked.

Josh pushed his chair back farther from where she stood so close. Too close. He was there to counsel her on life—not wish for her to become part of his. “I wouldn’t be sitting here writing sermons and reading seven different commentaries if I didn’t. Those two verses sort of say it all. It’s one of those basic tenets I spoke of earlier. But it doesn’t stop there. You can’t imagine the peace believing those words brings to your life. When there was nothing but fear and trial in my life, Henry taught me those words, and Jesus brought me the peace I desperately needed. I knew that if my eternity was certain, then I could endure anything until that day came.”

She had such an expressive face that he knew a question was coming. “Is everyone saved just because He came? That doesn’t seem right, with all the people running around these days doing whatever they want to do. So many people commit crimes, even to the point of mass murder.”

“Everyone who professes Him as savior is redeemed. Don’t forget, Jesus also said the path to salvation is a narrow one. Here—” Josh rummaged in the top drawer looking for the copy of the New Testament Henry had given him in those early days when his faith was new.

He looked up and something he didn’t remember feeling before slammed into him. At that moment he wanted nothing but to pull her onto his lap and just hold her. It made her nearness sheer torture to his lonely heart. Josh tried to shake off those feelings and went back to his search, moving to the next drawer down.

Finally he found what he was after, and as he handed it to her he prayed she wouldn’t notice his shaking hands or see his heart’s desire in his eyes. “Why don’t you take this up with you and read some of it. If you have any questions, we can talk tomorrow.”

Cassidy blinked, and he almost winced at the confusion that clouded her eyes.

“Sure. I’ll do that,” she said, backing away. “Sorry I bothered you. I can see how busy you are.”

She retreated from the room in a rush before Josh could call her back and try to explain why he needed to cut their talk short. But then, he hadn’t a clue what excuse he’d use anyway. All he knew was that at what he feared had been a critical moment in Cassidy’s spiritual growth, he had let personal feelings intrude. He had prayed she wouldn’t see into his heart but hadn’t prayed that she would let Jesus into hers.

Josh knew he needed to talk to Henry. For the first time ever, he couldn’t do what the pastor had asked of him. Because even though he had no intention of acting upon his feelings, he was too drawn to this woman to act as a spiritual counsel. The proof was blindingly clear. He had failed her, and yet he was afraid to follow her to try to make it right.




Chapter Seven


Cassidy sat brushing her hair at the old mahogany vanity in her room. She let the hand holding the brush drift into her lap as Joshua once again took over her thoughts. Not wanting to feel the way she did about him didn’t change the truth. Cassidy Jamison, heir to a multimillion-dollar steel company, was attracted to a country preacher who, though obviously intelligent, had no education or financial prospects.

Her grandfather would hit the roof.

And she didn’t care! Not about her fortune or his lack of one. Not about his lack of formal education. Not about the fact that she had only known him for four days. She only cared about him.

Of course, how she felt didn’t matter, anyway. Cassidy saw little chance that anything long-lasting would evolve from their tentative friendship. And not because she thought him beneath her or because her grandfather wouldn’t approve of him. The problem lay with Joshua himself. He didn’t feel the same way about her. If she’d had any doubt before, the way he’d recoiled from her in the study had shown her the truth.

Cassidy had always thought she’d seen herself with impartial eyes, but now she had to wonder if there was something wrong with her that she’d never acknowledged. She had a trim figure and had been told by others that she was reasonably attractive. She didn’t wear her hair in a long and flowing style, but the short cut suited her face and her busy life-style.

It was certainly true that the current condition of her clothing left something to be desired, but she couldn’t imagine Joshua caring about anything as shallow as how someone dressed, as long as it was modestly. Besides, he’d pick out the particular combination she’d put on that morning, so clothes couldn’t be at the root of his problem with her.

So, why did Joshua practically trip over his own feet trying to get away from her every time they were in close proximity? When she caught her reflection in the mirror trying to check her breath, Cassidy tossed the brush down.

There was nothing wrong with her!

She was a big girl and could accept that he felt none of the same attraction she did. Besides, she needed a friend more than a love interest, she told herself. She’d get over his rejection.

Always brutally honest with herself, Cassidy felt a blush heat her face when she thought of the way he’d acted earlier. He had to suspect that she had feelings for him and was embarrassed by it. The only recourse her pride would allow was for her to get out of Dodge as soon as possible—she pursed her lips and stiffened her spine—and until then, she’d just have to hide her feelings as best she could. First thing tomorrow she’d go down to Earl’s and check on her car. With any luck she’d be on the road by noon.

As she reached out to pick up the hairbrush again, she noticed the New Testament Josh had all but forced into her hands as an excuse to push her out of his vicinity. No. There had been sincerity in his voice as he’d given it to her. She had no doubt that he really and truly wanted her to read it. She shrugged. What did she have to lose?

She read the gospel of Matthew and became utterly fascinated by the unfolding of a kingdom that no one seemed to understand, even those closest to the man named Jesus of Nazareth. Then in chapter 19 she came upon a passage that troubled her.

It was the story of a rich young man who kept all the commandments already and wanted to know what else he had to do to be saved. After the young man turned away in sadness at Christ’s answer, He’d told the disciples, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”

Troubled, Cassidy longed to seek Joshua out, but couldn’t bear to see that same panicked look in his eyes that had sent her running earlier. An hour later, that passage still haunted and, she admitted, angered her. She heard Josh move through the hall toward his room followed by the click of Bear’s nails on the polished wood floor. After a few minutes the house settled into silence.

Still, those words bothered her and kept her awake. She was the heir to a small fortune. Did that mean she couldn’t go to heaven no matter what she did to earn it? It didn’t seem to fit or to be consistent with Joshua’s evenhanded approach to his faith or with the passage she’d read off his notes earlier. So what could it mean?

She remembered all the books on his desk and her conversation with Josh about how he prepared a lesson. If he could find out what others had read into the Scriptures in those commentaries, then so could she! Surely one of those scholars had answered her questions already.

Luckily, Bear’s night-lights glowed softly throughout the house as Cassidy crept down the hall. She was grateful to the ridiculous dog as she moved down the stairs and into the darkened study. The floor creaked as she tiptoed across the room to the desk. “Please, God,” she whispered, “don’t let Josh find me sneaking around like this. A girl can take only so much humiliation in one night.”

She found references in several books, and after a while she understood that this was one of those passages that the scholars agreed upon. But even so, they all seemed to see different applications in people’s lives.

The first one she read seemed to say that Jesus did not really mean that it was impossible for a wealthy person to enter heaven. The rest followed suit on this, but one author continued on to explain that what Jesus meant was that heaven is impossible to earn or buy. The wealthy tend to think that everything and everyone has a price and that since they can pay that price, they think they can have anything they want. She wondered how many men in her own social circle thought they had already bought their place in heaven through charitable donations.

So, she concluded, salvation is an unearned gift. She couldn’t earn it as she’d thought. No one could.

Further complicating the lives of the rich, another scholar pointed out, are the temptations money brings with it. That was easy enough for Cassidy to grasp. When a CEO friend of her grandfather’s had ordered mandatory drug testing in his company because of falling revenues, it had turned out that drug abuse was rampant in the upper echelon of the company.

Yet another commentary mentioned the way money is almost worshiped in the world of the wealthy and how it is more often than not like a god to them. That was an easy idea for her to translate to her own experience. She’d learned quickly that in the world of cutthroat corporate politics, nothing was more important than the almighty dollar.

Tired of thinking and less content than ever with her life, she leaned her head back onto the big, old desk chair and let it rock back the way Josh had earlier. She closed her eyes and wondered where all this was leading her.



“Cassidy, dear, are you all right?”

Cassidy heard Irma’s voice as if from afar. “What is it?” Cassidy asked, and opened her eyes, blinking in surprise, her mind still in a sleepy fog. “What’s going on?”

“I saw the light on in here and came in to scold Joshua for staying up all night. Instead I found you. What on earth are you doing in here so early in the morning?”

“Doing?” Suddenly realizing where she was, Cassidy sat up. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep myself by using the study without permission.”

“Don’t be foolish. Books are made to be read. You can’t read the print off the pages. So, tell me, what were you reading?”

“Well, last night Josh shoved a New Testament at me and told me to read it in my room. I—”

“Shoved it at you?” Irma cut in and frowned. “Well now, that doesn’t sound like our Josh.”

“He was…um, busy, and I was asking a lot of questions.”

“It still sounds as if he was rude to you.”

He had bordered on rude but Cassidy didn’t want Irma making an issue of it. She forced a smile. “Oh, I wasn’t offended. Really. So, anyway, I took it upstairs and read it, and something bothered me. I didn’t want to pester Joshua again so I tried to sleep on it. After a while, when I heard him go to bed, I remembered the books he’d been using to—” Cassidy halted in mid-thought, horrified that she’d almost revealed Henry and Josh’s secret.

Irma smiled gently. “I know he writes Henry’s sermons. He’s been doing it for over six months. Everyone knows, but Henry doesn’t realize the rest of us figured out how much Josh is doing.”

Loyalty was a beautiful thing to behold, she thought, and let the subject drop. “Well, anyway, he had explained what the books were, so I came down here to look up the passage, hoping that I’d be able to sleep after I found the answer to my question. I certainly didn’t mean to sleep here.”

Irma still didn’t look too happy. “Did you find your answer?”

“I think so. It was about being saved and being wealthy and how hard it is to be both. It was the story of the rich young ruler, and I think I figured out that it’s okay to possess money as long as it doesn’t possess you. And that you can’t buy or earn your way into heaven.”

Finally the older woman smiled. “I’d say you did a fine job of finding your answer. Too bad my son didn’t do his as well.”

“But he did. He was just tired and in the middle of the sermon he was working on. I shouldn’t have invaded his privacy. I guess I’d better get upstairs. Please don’t mention this to Joshua. I don’t want him to be any more annoyed with me than he already is.”

Cassidy didn’t wait for Irma’s response. She fled just as she had last night from Josh. She managed to get dressed and be on her way to Earl’s in less than fifteen minutes.

The hood was up on her car, and Earl was hard at work. “How’s it coming, Mr. Pedmont?” she asked, trying to hide her anxiety.

Startled, Earl straightened and smacked his head on the hood. “Ouch! Oh, howdy. Got to your car in the middle of yesterday,” he said as he wiped his hands on a rag. “Ordered up the fuel filter, but it didn’t get up here till late last night. Figured, Earl, you get up at dawn and you could have the little lady back on the road by nine or ten.”

Cassidy looked at her watch. An hour. She could be gone and out of Joshua’s town in an hour. That was a good thing, she assured herself, and wished she didn’t feel as if she were leaving home instead of heading toward it.

Then she noticed Earl’s frown as he looked back down at the engine. He took his hat off and scratched his head. Then he let out a very discouraged and discouraging sigh. “Weren’t the filter. That’s for sure,” he declared.

“It won’t be done?” she asked, somehow knowing she was doomed.

“Nope. I’d suggest we let the new filter stay in, though. I’d say it was near time to replace it, anyway. Now I guess I’d best send for a fuel pump. It may be that.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“Can’t imagine it could be anything else except maybe the carb, and we really don’t want that.”

“Why don’t we want that?”

“A carb’s an expensive piece, especially on one of these foreign jobs. Ain’t a drop in the bucket on an American car, either.”

No, she had to leave today. She saw the perplexed look on Earl’s lined face and suddenly he didn’t seem as competent to Cassidy as he had. “Maybe I should have it towed to a bigger town. Maybe to a foreign car expert.”

Earl’s crestfallen expression nearly broke Cassidy’s heart. “If you don’t trust ol’ Earl, then maybe you should do that. I’ll ask my supplier to recommend some other fella in some bigger town. Just give me a minute to put her back together the rest of the way, and I’ll make the call.”

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you,” she assured him, even though she didn’t. She hated hurting someone who had been nothing but kind to her. After all, how much damage could he do taking out parts and putting new ones in? The money didn’t matter. It was just that she’d wanted to get away from Josh before she made a bigger fool of herself than she already had. But she’d never been comfortable getting what she wanted at someone else’s expense.

“So how’s the car coming along?” she heard Josh call to Earl from across the garage.

“I ordered up a fuel filter hopin’ it would be something cheap so it weren’t too costly for the little lady. But it must be the pump itself. There wasn’t really a way to tell till I got the filter up here. But the little lady was just asking about havin’ herself towed to a bigger town.”

“Cassie? I thought you agreed not to be in such a hurry to leave.”

Cassidy stared at Josh. He looked worried. Had Irma given him a piece of her mind for being rude? She was suddenly furious with him. He had been rude. “Actually, I got the feeling that I’d worn out my welcome with you. And if I have, that’s too bad, Joshua Daniels, because Irma seems to like me just fine! And I like this town. It’s…it’s…quaint! And my stomach likes it, too!”

She turned to the elderly mechanic, ignoring Josh’s bug-eyed expression. “Earl, you go right ahead and order that fuel pump, and if it needs that carb thingy, get that, too. You just tinker with that foreign job till it purrs like a kitten. No matter how long it takes. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, my stomach and I are going to have a nice breakfast with Irma and Henry.”



Josh stared after Cassidy’s retreating back.

“Whew-ee, someone sure put a burr under her saddle, and I’d say that someone was you, Josh. What’d you do?”

Josh grimaced and kneaded the back of his neck to relieve a little of the tension he’d been carrying since last night. Irma’s little lecture hadn’t helped it, either. “Irma tells me I was rude.”

Earl poked him. “Boy, are you blind? Stupid? Or just plain off your rocker? You don’t act rude to a sweet girl like that when you live in a town without one single female over twenty or under fifty. Irma and Henry waited fifty years for the Lord to send them a son. And He sent you. Now how are you going to give them any grandchildren to bounce on their old knees if you chase away a find like Cassidy Jamison? You take old Earl’s advice, boy, you stop at The Trading Post and see if Pearl don’t have some flowers or some trinket for you to take to that sweet child as a peace offering.”

“Sweet child? She nearly took my head off.”

“Served you right from what I could see. Rude, huh?” Earl turned away and ambled to the phone on the wall. He looked back after lifting the receiver. “Go on!” he ordered, and pointed toward the door.

Josh went. But he wasn’t buying any peace offering!



Josh clutched at the cedar box he’d found himself buying at The Trading Post an hour earlier. He’d fought the urge to give in to Earl’s suggestion—he liked to think of it as a suggestion rather than an order—but he’d realized that when somebody was right they were right. He had been incredibly rude last night. Especially considering that Cassidy had been seeking knowledge about the God he served—or was supposed to serve.

As he entered the parlor, Josh saw Cassidy sitting in the window seat looking out over the meadow that lay between the parsonage and the wide stream that formed the western border of the town. She seemed to be trying to memorize every rut and sleeping twig.

“That’s quite a scene,” he said after clearing his throat. It wasn’t a comment on the landscape beyond the window. He longed to tell her so, but knew he had to keep his feelings to himself.

“It must be beautiful in spring.” Cassie turned her head and looked up at him. “Josh, I’m sorry I shouted at you and that I embarrassed you in front of Earl.”

“It was no less than I deserved. I should be apologizing to you. Last night I was tired and cranky, but that’s no excuse.” Again he found himself shoving an offering into her hands. “I got you something. It’s sort of a souvenir.” There was confusion in her eyes again this time, too, but no hurt at least. Instead she smiled, and he tried to ignore the kick his heart gave in answer.

“It’s lovely.”

He grinned. “No, it isn’t. It’s tourist junk. But apology gifts are few and far between in the winter around here. If I’d waited till spring or summer to be rude, you could have had wildflowers. Instead you get a cedar box with a tacky pair of earrings inside.” He didn’t mention that he wished with everything in him that she’d be around come spring. But praying for such a thing went against what he believed.

She opened the box and sniffed the cedar—just like a tourist. Then she laughed at the earrings. It wasn’t a mocking laugh but one of delight. “Oh, they’re adorable,” she said, and held up a gold and rose-pink, minnow-shaped fishing lure that hung by its tail from what looked like a modified fishhook.

“Pearl’s son Jamie turns lures into earnings, then she sells them for him,” he told her.

“Thank you. I love them.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she considered him for a long moment. “Are you apologizing because Irma told you to?”

He shook his head. “I’m apologizing because I was a clod.”

She grinned. “In that case, you’re forgiven for being a clod.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome, I’m sure.”

“Josh, are you taking that parcel up to Stephanie Tully?” Irma asked as she came into the room. “I think it might be for her birthday from her aunt in Wilkes-Barre. It would be so nice if she got it today.”

Irma spied the box and earrings a split second later. Josh didn’t like her smile one bit.

“Oh, you bought yourself a pair of those clever earrings Jamie makes.”

Josh waited for the inevitable.

“Josh gave them to me as an apology for our misunderstanding,” explained Cassidy.

That I see eyebrow of Irma’s arched over one of her suddenly sparkling eyes. “Well, isn’t that interesting. You know, you should take Cassidy along today. Stephanie mentioned that she wanted her and Larry to have a long talk with you soon—when I saw her after last Sunday’s service. Cassidy could keep Krystal busy, while you work with her parents.”

“I don’t know anything about children,” Cassidy protested. “I don’t think I’ve been around a child since I was one myself.”

“Don’t be silly. Children are just little people with simple interests. You’d be fine,” Irma said.

“It would be a big help,” Josh admitted, however reluctantly. “I have a feeling that they really needed to talk out a problem.” He held his breath, unwilling to hope for her answer.

“If you really think I could be of some help, then sure. I’ll tag along.”

“Thanks,” he said, not sure he meant it. This meant hours with her. How much temptation could one man stand?

“Don’t thank me till the kid lives through the experience. I’ll just go get my jacket,” she said, her tone a forced brand of optimism that made him feel small and petty.

It wasn’t her fault he wanted things he couldn’t have, he chastised himself. How had he come to feel this much so quickly?

Josh shot Irma a disgruntled look. “Ma, please stop pushing us together. It’s crazy, and someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t want it to be Cassie.” He didn’t wait for a reply but stalked from the room in search of his own jacket and the package he had to deliver to Stephanie.

Josh already knew riding in the truck together would generate an intimacy he dreaded but also looked forward to. He couldn’t ignore the irony of his situation. He might be uncomfortable when he was with Cassie, but he’d utterly panicked when he’d thought she was about to leave town. There seemed to be no easy solution—no solution at all from where he stood. An heiress didn’t belong in Mountain View, and he was only marginally free to pursue a relationship, anyway.

Several hours later, Josh and Larry Tully walked across the fields toward Larry’s small house. It had been a productive afternoon. Josh now had a carpentry project lined up for next spring and summer. It would help boost the church’s dwindling treasury and would help solve the problem between Stephanie and Larry.

He’d gotten to the bottom of the issue between the couple quickly and had helped them see that it wasn’t as huge a gulf as they’d thought. Stephanie’s widowed mother was terribly lonely and afraid living several counties away, and had asked to move in with them. Though they wanted to help, neither really wanted to try fitting another adult into their little two-bedroom home. Unfortunately, Larry had put his foot down, and said no without asking his wife’s opinion first. Stephanie had taken the opposite stand even though she wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea herself.

Josh had gotten Larry to admit that he really liked his mother-in-law and wanted to help but that he felt the crowded conditions would be too much of a strain on their marriage. Stephanie had admitted that while she loved her mother dearly, she did not relish being the “daughter” in her own kitchen.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/kate-welsh/small-town-dreams-and-the-girl-next-door-small-town-dreams-the/) 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.