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God's Gift
Dee Henderson


Mills & Boon Silhouette
Missionary work in Africa was the most difficult and faithaffirming labor James Graham had ever faced, and warm, homey presents from a Good Samaritan back home gave him hope to carry on. But an injury halted his work and sent him home to Chicago.There, James met Rachel Ashcroft, who'd sent those thoughtful gifts, and he was intrigued by the sadness that shadowed her features. Bringing the light back into Rachel's face gave him new purpose, but was this respite only temporary? Or could James release his past and open his heart to receive Rachel's gift of love?









Praise for

DEE HENDERSON


#1 CBA Bestselling Author

“Henderson has steadily built a name for herself…intriguing…insightful and probing.”

—Publishers Weekly

“The name Dee Henderson is synonymous with authenticity. Her books shine with believable facts and descriptions while her characters think and act like the professionals they are.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub

“Solid storytelling [and] compelling characters…make Henderson a name to watch.”

—Library Journal

“Ms. Henderson’s sparkling characters and superb plotting…sweep the reader along to a breathless conclusion.”

—Lori Copeland, bestselling author of the Brides of the West series




God’s Gift

Dee Henderson







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


Take delight in the Lord,

And He will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord;

Trust in Him, and He will act.

—Psalms 37:4–5


Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading God’s Gift. It holds a special place in my heart as my second book published. This was a good story to write, for it reaffirmed hope that love can overcome any challenge. Everyone faces unexpected troubles in life, and how we respond and cope is one way we show our faith. God is still in control.

I would love to hear from you. You can find me online at: www.deehenderson.com, e-mail: dee@deehenderson.com or write me care of Steeple Hill, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Sincerely,









Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Questions for Discussion




Chapter One


“Go back to the States, rest, see the doctors, shake this bug and be back here at the end of August to take the Zaire project.” His boss’s words still rang in his ears. Medical furlough. The words dreaded by every missionary. Six years in the field in remote locations. He should feel lucky to have made it this long. He didn’t.

James Graham moved down the aisle of the plane, following the other passengers, a heavy jacket bought in New York folded over one arm. It had been eighty-two degrees when he left the capital of Zaire yesterday afternoon. The pilot had announced Chicago was forty-five degrees and raining, a cold April evening.

The pain was bad tonight. It made his movements stiff and his face gaunt. He moved like an old man and he was only thirty-five. He wanted to be elated at being home, to have the chance to see his friends, his family. It had been six years since he had been back in the States. Pain was robbing him of the joy.

He would give a lot to know what bug had bit him and done all this damage. He would give a lot to have God answer his question, Why?

He stepped through the door to the airport terminal, not sure what to expect. His former business partner Kevin Bennett had his flight information. James had asked him to keep it quiet, hoping to give himself some time to recover from the flight before he saw his family. His mom did not need to see him at his worst. For fifteen years, since his dad died, he had been doing his best to not give her reason to worry about him.

James could still feel the grief from the day his mom had called him at college to gently let him know his father had died of a heart attack. He’d been ready to abandon college and move back home, step into the family business, but she had been adamant that he not. She had compromised and let him return for a semester to help, then told him to get on with his life. She had sold the family bakery and begun a profitable business breeding Samoyeds, a passion she had shared with his dad for years.

When he’d felt called six years ago to leave the construction business he and Kevin had built, to use his skills on the mission field, his mom had been the first one to encourage him to go. She was a strong lady, a positive one, but she was going to take one look at him in pain and while she wouldn’t say so, she was going to worry.

“James.”

He turned at the sound of his name and felt a smile pierce his fatigue. Six years was a long time to miss seeing a best friend. “Kevin.” He moved out of the stream of people toward the bay of windows that looked out over the runways.

They had been close friends for so long, the six years blinked away in a moment. His friend looked good. Relaxed. A little older. They had gone to high school together, played baseball as teammates, basketball as rivals, he on the blue squad, Kevin on the red. They had double-dated together and fought intensely over who would be number one and who would be number two in all the classes they shared in college.

“I won’t ask how you’re doing. You look like you did that time you fell off that roof we were replacing,” Kevin remarked. “I’m glad you’re back.”

James smiled. “I had to come back just to meet your wife.”

Kevin laughed. “I have no idea how I ended up married before you did. You’ll like Mandy.”

“I’m sure I will. She got you to settle down before you were fifty.”

“Without you around as my business partner, there was too much work to do without help. I hired Mandy’s brother—he’s good by the way—and before I knew it, I was thinking more about Mandy than I was about work. I know a good thing when I find it.”

“I’m glad, Kevin.”

“It’s your turn now.”

James smiled. “Later, Kevin. We need a few dozen more clinics built before I want to think about coming back to settle down.” He had come to the conclusion early, having watched his parents and other close friends, that marriage took time, energy and focus if you wanted it to grow and survive, and unless you were ready to make that kind of investment, it was simply better to wait. He had at least fifty more clinics to build. On the days he wondered if he had made the right choice, he had only to flip open his wallet and look at the pictures of the children the clinics had saved to know that for now, he had made the right decision. He was a patient man who planned to live a long life. There would be time for a good marriage, someday, not now—not while there was work that needed his attention. “You were able to keep my arrival quiet?”

“They think you were delayed by visa problems in Zaire. They aren’t expecting you until late tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” James rolled his shoulders, hating the pain that coursed through his body and up his spine, making every bone ache. “An hour ride should give me time to let another round of painkillers take effect.”

“Do the doctors know what made you ill?”

“No. It was probably an insect bite. They don’t know what it is, but they’re of the opinion that it will eventually run its course. I think Bob kicked me back to the States just to get me out of his office. He knows I hate a desk job.”

He had told Bob to replace him. In the remote areas where the crews worked, it was critical that every man be able to pull his own weight—lives depended on it. They couldn’t have a man who winced every time he swung a hammer managing a crew, no matter how intensely he wanted to keep the job.

James could tell that Kevin understood how deeply he had felt the loss; it was there in his eyes. He was grateful it wasn’t pity.

“Fifteen weeks of your mom’s good cooking, a baseball game or two and you will be back in Africa swinging a hammer, pouring cement, and wondering why you were crazy enough to go back.”



The house had been painted, the color of the shutters changed from dark green to dark blue, the flower beds extended along the length of the house as his mom had planned. He had grown up in this house, built in a subdivision of similar homes, the asphalt driveway going back to the garage the place of many impromptu basketball games. His dad had liked to play and James had liked the chance to razz him about getting old. James felt a deep sense of peace settle inside. He had really missed this place.

Kevin pulled into the drive behind a blue Lexus. James glanced at the car, impressed. His transportation for the last six years had been four-wheel drive trucks. He had always appreciated a nice car.

“I’ll bring in the bags,” Kevin offered.

“Thanks,” James replied absently, stepping out of the car and looking closer at the house. In the evening twilight he could see the porch still needed the third step fixed; it slanted slightly downward on the left end, and it looked as if the gutters were reaching the age when they should be replaced. He made a mental note to look at the window casings and check the roof, see what kind of age the shingles were showing. The grass was going to need to be mowed in another few weeks; he would have to make sure the mower blade was sharpened. The thought of being useful again felt good.

“Looks like your sister is here, that’s her van.”

“The Lexus?”

Kevin shook his head. “Don’t recognize it. You were the one who remembers cars.”

James led the way up the walk. “Do you still have my old Ford?”

“Runs like a dream. You would never know it’s got a hundred eighty thousand miles on it. It’s yours if you want it for the summer.”

“Thanks, I might take you up on that. You must have found a good mechanic.”

Kevin laughed. “With you gone, I had to.”

James quietly opened the front door.

His mom had redone the entryway with new wallpaper, a modern design with primary colors and bold stripes. The hardwood floors were slightly more aged but polished until they gleamed. The living room to the right had white plush carpet and new furniture, a gorgeous couch and wing-back chairs. The place was filled with light even though it was now dark outside, the room warmed by a crackling fire in the fireplace. A CD was playing country music.

The house smelled of fresh-baked bread.

There were puppies sleeping in front of the fire on a colorful braided rug. Two of them, white fluffy bears that were maybe three months old. They reminded James of the little polar bears he had seen in the Coca-Cola commercial on the flight home.

“James!”

His sister Patricia was coming down the stairs, had reached the landing when she saw him.

He met her at the base of the stairs with a wide smile, a motion to lower her voice, a deep, long hug. His ribs ached where she hugged him back, but he ignored the pain as best he could. He had missed her, his companion in mischief. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful,” he said, holding her at arm’s length to look at her. Her hair was longer and her face serene for being the mother of two children. Paul must be fulfilling his promise to keep her happy.

She laughed, her eyes wet. “What are you doing here today? We weren’t expecting you till tomorrow.”

“I like surprises,” he replied, grinning. “Where’s Mom?”

His sister returned the grin. “In the kitchen. She’s been so excited at the idea of seeing you.”

“James, I’ll leave you to the family. Call me tomorrow?” Kevin asked, touching his arm.

James smiled and reached out a hand. “I will. Thanks, Kevin.” He meant it more than he knew how to put into words.

James caught his sister’s hand and pulled her with him down the hall to the kitchen at the back of the house. He had snuck down these halls as a kid to raid the refrigerator during the night, and had spent a good portion of his teenage years sitting at the kitchen table dunking cookies in his coffee, telling Mom about the day’s events. Unlike most of his friends, he had loved to bring girlfriends home to meet his mom.

He leaned against the doorpost and watched his mom as she cleaned carrots at the chopping board. He felt tears sting his eyes. “Is there enough for one more?”

Mary spun around in surprise at his words and he saw the joy he felt mirrored in her face. The knife clattered down on the cutting board.

He steadied them both as her hug threatened to overbalance them, then leaned back to get a good look at her. “Hi, Mom.”

“You rat. You should have told me your flight was today.”

She had aged gracefully. He grinned. “And ruin the surprise?”

He stepped farther into the kitchen, his arm around her shoulders. “What’s for dinner?”

“Vegetable soup, beef Wellington, fresh asparagus.”

“And maybe apple pie,” added a voice touched with soft laughter from his left.

James turned. The lady was sitting on the far side of the kitchen table, a bag of apples beside her. She was wearing jeans and a Northwestern sweatshirt, her hair pulled back by a gold clasp, her smile filled with humor. The black Labrador he had entrusted to his mom when he moved to the mission field was sitting beside her.

The lady was gorgeous. She gestured with her knife toward the peels she had been trying to take from the apples as an unbroken strand. “Your mom swears this is possible, but you’re not supposed to arrive till tomorrow, so I have time to find out.”

James grinned at the gentle rebuke. “It’s all in the wrist,” he remarked as he moved toward her.

“Rachel Ashcroft. Most people call me Rae. Your mom is giving me a baking lesson,” she said lightly, holding out her hand.

James took her hand and returned her smile with one of his own. Rachel the Angel. His building crew had named her better than they knew. “Mom’s a good teacher.”

“And I’m a challenging student,” she replied with a grin. “It’s nice to finally meet you, James.”

He liked the sound of her voice, the fact his mother liked her. Baking lessons were more than an act of kindness, they were a hallmark back to the days of the bakery and James knew his mom didn’t just offer lessons to anyone.

He tugged a chair out at the table and turned it so he could stretch his legs out and greet his dog. The Labrador was straining to push his way into his lap, his tail beating against the table leg. “Easy, Jed, yes, it’s me,” James told the animal, stroking his gleaming coat, glad to see at fifteen years that Jedikiah appeared to still be in good health.

Rae leaned over to look past him. “Patricia, he’s not nearly as tall as you claimed,” she said in a mock whisper.

Patricia laughed as she pulled out the chair between them. “Now that he’s here, he’s not nearly as perfect as we remember.”

“Rae, I think the problem is he’s been gone long enough I’ve forgotten all the mischief he used to get into,” his mom said with a twinkle in her eye as she brought over a glass of iced tea for him. She lightly squeezed his shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, James.”

“It’s mutual, Mom,” he said softly, smiling at her, relaxing back in the chair. His journey was over for now.

It felt good to be home.



“Rae, you mean to tell me you actually volunteered for the junior high lock-in?” James teased.

They were stretched out in the living room enjoying the fire and relaxing after a wonderful dinner. His mom was beside him on the couch and his sister was sitting in the wing-back chair to his left. His dog was curled up at his feet. Rae was wrestling with the two puppies over ownership of a stretched-out sock.

“Staying up all night was no big deal. Patricia just forgot to tell me I would also be fixing breakfast for twenty junior high kids. Your niece, Emily, saved me. She’s great at making pancakes.”

“Let me guess…you taught her, Mom?”

“She’s a natural,” his mom replied, smiling.

A pager going off broke into the conversation. Rae glanced at the device clipped on her jeans. “Excuse me.” She reached across the puppies to retrieve her purse and a cellular phone.

“Hi, Scott.”

She listened for a few moments, the animation in her face changing to a more distant, focused expression. “How many yen? Okay. Yeah, I’m on my way in. See you in about twenty minutes.”

She closed the phone, got to her feet. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Thanks for the baking lesson and dinner, Mary.”

“Any time, Rae. I enjoyed having you here.”

“Call me about this weekend, Rae, maybe we can do lunch after church,” Patricia asked.

Rae nodded. “Let me see what is on my schedule.”

James saw the uncertainty in her eyes as she pulled on her jacket, glanced at him. “I’m sure we’ll being seeing each other again,” he commented with a smile. If he had anything to say about it, they would be….

She gave a slight smile. “Probably. Good night, James.”

“Good night, Rachel.”



The drizzling rain made the road black and the street-lights shimmer as she drove to the office. Rae’s hands were tense around the wheel, for the night reminded her too much of the one on which her partner Leo had died.

She had been in New York when their mutual friend Dave called, pulled her out of a pleasant dream and abruptly flung her into the harsh reality of Leo’s death. Dave had chartered a plane to get her back without delay, and her girlfriend Lace had been waiting at O’Hare to meet her.

There hadn’t even been time to grieve during the following ten days. Days after Leo’s death, the markets began a ten percent fall. Rae, trying to learn to trade with Leo’s skills overnight, felt crushed under the stress. Yet, it had been good, that crushing weight of work; it had insured she had a reason to get up each morning, a reason to block out the pain and focus on something else.

Her friends were good and loyal and there for her. She had survived. Part of her anyway. Part of her had died along with Leo that cold, wet, October night.

The mourning had started a few weeks later, the blackness blinking out her laughter for over a year.

She had promised Dave and Lace she would start getting out more. She knew they were worried about her; it had been eighteen months since Leo’s death, but it still felt like yesterday. She wondered at times if the pain was ever going to leave.

In some respects, she knew the pain was a blessing. She had been to the bottom, the pain could not get worse. No matter what the future held for her, there was a certain comfort in knowing she had touched the bottom and she had survived. Life could offer her nothing worse than what she had already tasted.

She was picking up her life again, resuming activities she had enjoyed before Leo’s death. She had begun to bowl on a league again, was back as a sponsor with the youth programs at her church, had decided to try once again to learn how to cook. She pursued the activities though the enjoyment was still hollow.

Tonight had been nice, relaxing, if a little intimidating to meet the man everyone spoke of so highly.

James Graham had been in pain tonight. He had downplayed his answers to his mother’s questions, but Rae had observed and drawn her own conclusions. He had moved with caution, as if expecting the pain.

She had seen Leo through too many broken bones and pulled muscles; she knew how unconscious movement was, how easily you moved first without thinking and then were caught by surprise. James had been living with pain so long, he had relearned how to move.

He was worried. She had seen it in his face when he thought no one was watching. It had made her wish she could do something, anything to help. She hated to see someone suffer.



He had the guest room on the east side of the house. The shadows of the oak tree outside his window danced across the ceiling as cars passed by on the street below. The bed was comfortable, more comfortable than any he had slept in for the past six years.

He couldn’t sleep.

His body was too exhausted, his muscles too sore.

James watched the play of shadows across the ceiling, absently flexing his right wrist where the pain was unusually intense. He had learned many weeks ago that it did no good to try to fight the fatigue. Eventually, sleep would come. Still, he knew he would feel exhausted when he woke, no matter how many hours his body slept.

It had been a good evening. He couldn’t remember when he had enjoyed an evening or someone’s company more.

Rachel the Angel. His crew in Africa had given her the name because of the packages she sent twice a month via Patricia. It had taken James almost four months to get an answer from Patricia on who was taping the Chicago Bulls basketball games for them. They had rigged up a battery-powered TV/VCR to travel with them so they could enjoy the games.

Those tapes had been like water to his thirsty men. His crew had been mostly short-term help—college graduates and missionary interns there only for a specific building project. They had all been homesick for something familiar. Rachel had no idea how important those gifts had been to him and his men.

He owed her a sincere thank-you.

He had watched her over dinner and as she had played with the puppies later. He had watched her when her face was relaxed and when she smiled.

She wasn’t all she appeared to be on the surface.

Rae had been friendly, polite, and slightly flustered at the idea of interrupting a family reunion by staying for dinner. But the lightness and the laughter and the smile she had shown this evening had seemed forced. When she laughed, it didn’t reach her eyes.

James had seen grief tempered by time before. He knew he was seeing it again.



The picture on the nightstand was the last thing Rae saw before she turned off the bedside light. Leo, his arm thrown around her, grinning. They had just won the skiing competition at Indian Hills. Their combined times for the run had put them in first place. Rae had to smile at the memory. He had forgotten to tell her how to slow down.

Hanging by a slender ribbon looped over the corner of the frame was the engagement ring Leo had bought her.

It was after 2:00 a.m. The Japanese stock market had gone into a decline and the rest of the overseas markets had followed it down. She had spent hours at her office deciding strategy for the opening of the New York markets. She could feel the tension and the stress through her body as she tried to cope with what she knew the coming day was going to be like.

She had never missed Leo more.

Leo had loved the trading, thrived on it; she just felt the fear. There was an overwhelming number of decisions to make rapidly, simultaneously, and it wasn’t a game you could prepare for ahead of time, you just had to react to the markets and sense when to move in and out and when to hold and sweat it out. She would be back at her desk in three hours; she already wanted to throw up. She had never felt so angry at someone for dying as she did at Leo now.

Rae blinked back the tears and rolled onto her side to look at the moon visible over the trees.

God, why did Leo have to die? Why did he have to be driving too fast? If he hadn’t chosen that road, at that time, he would be here tonight, as my husband, sound asleep beside me. He would be looking forward to facing the markets tomorrow, instead of dreading it.

God, I miss him so much. Is this ever going to end?

Please, I can’t afford to play “I wish” tonight. I need some sleep. I need the ability to act decisively and with speed tomorrow. There are thirty clients depending on my actions, and six employees who are going to be taking their cues from me. I’m going to need Your help tomorrow. Remember me, Lord. I’m depending on You.




Chapter Two


“Lace, I’ve got too much work to do. I can’t afford the time to go with you guys on vacation.”

It was Saturday and Lace had come over early to drag Rae out of the house for a walk down to the park and back. Rae had groused about being woken up on the one morning she could sleep in, but now followed Lace down the path with the loyalty of a friend reluctantly conceding defeat. By the time she had convinced Lace she really should be allowed to sleep in, she had already been fully awake.

As she brushed her hair before the mirror, pulling it back into a ponytail, she noticed dark circles under her eyes. She heard Lace in the kitchen.

Rae didn’t know what Lace had hoped to find. There was nothing left in the house. She had taken the last of the saltines to work with her to try to settle her stomach, ordered in food there when she got hungry. It had been an eighty-hour work week and it was only Saturday. She needed sleep, not exercise.

She had survived. It was the only good thing she could say about the week. The managed funds had crept up 1.24 percent against an index that had dropped two percent. She had traded her way out of the correction quite admirably.

Lace had insisted they stop for breakfast before they walked to the park. She had also frowned at the sweats Rae wore, but hadn’t pushed it. Lace was saving her energy for another round of negotiations about their vacation.

They had been going on vacation together ever since their college days—Leo, Rae, Lace and Dave, plus whoever else they could tempt to come along. Rae loved the week in the country, fishing, hiking, relaxing. She just didn’t see how it was possible to go this year; it had not been possible last year, and fundamentally, nothing had changed.

“Jack wouldn’t mind coming out of retirement for a week to keep tabs on the accounts.”

“Lace, it’s not that simple.”

The path widened and Lace dropped back beside her.

“Make it that simple. Rae, if you don’t slow down, you’re going to burn out. Do you honestly think Leo would have wanted this?”

Rae stopped walking, blinking away the unexpected tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch a raw memory,” Lace said, her arm slipping around Rae’s shoulders.

Rae nodded, knowing it was true. There was deep sympathy in her friend’s eyes; Lace would hand over part of her own heart if she thought it would cure the pain. “I’m doing exactly what I have to, Lace. Keeping the business together while I look for a new partner to replace him. And you are right. Leo thrived on the day-to-day trading. For me, it’s nerve racking. But I’m not working any harder than he did.”

“He took breaks, Rae. You don’t. If you don’t stop soon, you’re going to crash. Please, you need to come with us on vacation this year.”

“The bridge games are just not the same without you,” Lace added when Rae hesitated, dragging a smile from her. “Tell me you will at least think about it?”

Rae hugged her friend back and started walking down the trail again. “If I say no, is Dave going to be showing up at my door?”

“Now, would I do that?”

They had been best friends since Rae was nine years old, the year Rae’s parents had died and she had come to live with her grandmother. Lace had lived down the street. They had a lot of history between them. Rae didn’t buy the look of innocence. “Yes, you would.”

They walked together down to the park benches where mothers could watch their children play on the swings and slides and rocking horses. Rae sat down, annoyed to admit to herself she was tired; Lace joined her on the bench. Her friend was fit and active and had the stamina to go for hours. Rae just felt old. She kicked a bottle cap on the rocks in front of the bench and watched it flip over, tilting her head to read the words inside.

“Dave says he’s going to make senior partner next month.”

Rae looked up in surprise. “How? The senior ranks are age sixty plus, he’s thirty-six.”

“He snagged some major client, and the firm is worried about the message it conveys to have a simple �partner’ working such a major account.”

Rae laughed and the sound was rusty but felt good. “He got the Hamilton estate.”

“Hamilton Electronics?”

“That’s the one.”

Even Lace looked impressed, and she didn’t impress easily.

“When is he getting back from Dallas?” Rae asked.

“Tonight. I told him I would meet his flight.”



Dave McAllister stepped off the plane from Dallas, and with a thank-you and generous tip accepted the sheaf of faxes and the ticket a courier was waiting to hand him. Then turned his wrist to glance at his watch. He had thirty-eight minutes before his flight to Los Angeles, barely time to find his luggage, get it on the right plane and check his messages, certainly not time for dinner.

There were days he hated being this good a lawyer.

“You eat, I’ll read.”

“Lace.” He felt the relief at seeing a friend’s face. She fell in step beside him, took the briefcase and papers, and handed him a chili dog. He didn’t even protest the onions and eating a chili dog in a suit. She was a lifesaver. You didn’t protest a lifesaver. Not at ten o’clock on a Saturday night.

“Jan told me about your abrupt arrive and depart schedule.”

There was amusement in her voice. Any time now she would be telling him to get a real life. He liked her too much to care. It was business. Sometimes it demanded a little sacrifice.

“Read me the important stuff,” he asked her, finishing the chili dog and wishing she had bought him two.

She was flipping pages as they walked. “Oh, here’s a good one.” She skimmed the legal document with the ease of someone who wrote a lot of them. “Your client Mr. York is going to lose his shirt.” She summarized the brief for him as they took the tunnel from terminal C to baggage claim.

“It’s smoke. They are going to ask to settle out of court.”

Lace grinned. “No, they won’t.”

“If they do settle, you owe me for that parking ticket you managed to pick up on my car.”

He found his luggage and wished he had thought to pack for a longer trip. He hadn’t been planning this trip to Los Angeles.

“Is Rae going to come?” It was the reason Lace had met him, the reason they had been playing phone tag across the country for the last several weeks.

“I got nowhere. You would think after twenty years, I would know how to convince her to budge, but the only thing I managed to do was make her cry.”

Dave frowned. “Lace, you were supposed to be helping, not making matters worse.” He saw the look on Lace’s face and lightened up, fast. He was going to have Lace crying, and one lady in his life in tears was enough. “She’s having a down week, Lace, the markets turned, I bet it was nothing you said. She cried on me one time because I wore a tie like the one she had given Leo.”

Lace blinked and put her lawyer face back on. “Good save, not great, but good. You’re her silent partner, you’ve got to do something.”

“Give me a clue what to do, and I’ll do it. Anything,” Dave replied, frustrated at the situation, frustrated at not being able to help one of the two most important friends he had left. “But I’m just as much at a loss as you are.”

Lace nodded. “She’s got to come on this vacation. That I do know.”

Dave sighed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do when I get back to town Tuesday.” He checked the monitors to find the gate for his next flight. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Sports stadium zoning and salary cap contract language.”

“Sounds like a whale of a good time.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “Beats playing divorce attorney. I thought you were going to get on the happy side of marriage for a change.”

“I’m working on it, Lace,” Dave replied, tweaking a lock of her hair. “Want to have dinner Thursday before Rae’s game?” They were Rae’s acting cheerleader section on nights she bowled with the league. It gave them an excuse to try to make her laugh again.

“Not Thai again, or Indian. I don’t mind spicy, but I draw the line at curry.”



“Need some help?”

The church nursery was busy with activity as one service finished and another prepared to begin. There were name tags to match with diaper bags and parents for children being picked up; new infants and diaper bags and instructions to write down for children being dropped off. Short-handed because two of the helpers were out with the flu, Rae was finally sitting down again. She looked up at the question and smiled.

James.

He looked good.

The unexpected thought made her blush, which really confused her and changed her smile to a momentary frown.

She looked down at the active infants she held. She had to grin. They were twins and she had her hands full. “Which one do you want?”

She watched him step into the nursery, careful to avoid letting any of the toddlers get past him and out the door. His movements were stiff and she wished their prayers on his behalf would be answered. She hated to see someone in pain. His week back in the States had faded his tan slightly. He sat down in the rocker beside her. “Give me—” he paused to read the name tags on their sleepers “—Kyle.”

Rae carefully handed him the infant, watched him accept the six-month-old with the ease of someone comfortable around kids. The infant was fascinated with a man to look at.

“Patricia said I would find you here.”

“I hide out here most Sundays,” Rae replied, tempting Kyle’s sister Kim with a set of infant car keys. She had been keeping up with infants and toddlers for the last hour and a half with her teenage helpers. She couldn’t believe he’d shown up here of all places. She pushed her hair back as Kim reached for it again.

“Like kids?”

“Babies,” Rae replied matter-of-factly.

“They grow up fast. Emily was barely walking when I saw her last. Now she’s reading,” James commented.

“Six years is a long time.”

Rae snagged an infant who was in danger of falling backward and scooted him over to lean against her knee. James nudged a ball over to him with his foot.

“Thanks.”

“It is always this lively?”

Rae smiled. “No one is crying so this is calm. But I normally do have two more adults to help keep order. They’re both out with the flu. Thanks for the offer to help.”

“My pleasure. I wanted to thank you for the Chicago Bulls tapes.”

She was surprised and pleased that he had sought her out for something so simple. “Kevin said you were a fan.”

“Your packages would make my week and that of my entire crew.”

She looked down at the infant she held, embarrassed. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking about you for two years by your nickname,” James added.

His remark made her look up. “Really?”

He smiled. “We named you Rachel the Angel.”

Now she really blushed. “They were just game tapes.”

“They meant a lot to us. I promised the guys I would convey their thanks.” James set the rocker in motion.

Rae had no idea what to say. “Should I apologize for not liking hockey?”

Her question brought a burst of laughter.



Rae left work Monday night after nine, stopped at the grocery store for a deli pizza and a six-pack of soda, and on impulse picked up a carrot cake. She needed to grocery shop to actually stock her cabinets but didn’t have the energy.

She had decided she really, desperately, wanted a break. She was going to read a good book tonight, set her alarm to let her sleep an extra half hour and try to rebuild her energy. It was bad when she started the week exhausted.

She put the pizza in the oven, forgot and then came back to set the timer, walked down to the den as she poured the soda over ice. She wrinkled her nose and chuckled softly as she tried to drink around the fizz. She was parched.

Work would not be so bad if it were simply not so long. She had given up trying to record her hours in February; tracking her time had been one of her New Year’s resolutions. Knowing she was averaging 64.9 hours per week did not make coping with them any easier.

The library shelves were packed with books she considered worth keeping—thrillers and suspense and mysteries intermixed in the fiction, medical texts, financial texts and law references taking the rest of the space. She had a hard time choosing, there were so many books she would like to reread. She finally pulled down a hardcover by Mary Clark.

She settled into the recliner, kicking the footstand up. This was the way she liked to spend an evening.

She opened the book.

A small piece of red colored paper fluttered down between the arm and the cushion of the seat.

Rae shifted in the seat, balancing her drink and the book in one hand to reach the item.

A Valentine’s Day card.

Leo’s bold signature signed beneath his “I Love You.”

The sob caught her off guard, emotion rushing to the surface before she could stop it.

No. No, she was done crying!

She wiped at the tears with the back of her sleeve, caught a couple deep breaths and forced them back. No. No more. She was done crying.

She got up.

It was hard, and her hand wavered, but she resolutely tucked the beautiful card in the box on the bookshelf where she kept the pictures she had yet to file in her scrapbook.

She wasn’t going to let a card do this to her. It was beautiful, and there was no one to send her I Love You cards anymore, but she wasn’t going to let the card affect her this way. No. She couldn’t.

The desire to read was gone.

She left the book resting on the armrest of the recliner and returned to the kitchen. The pizza had barely begun to cook.

Was it possible to simply decide to stop grieving?

She leaned against the counter and watched the pizza cook.

Was it possible to simply decide not to grieve anymore?

Rae rubbed her burning eyes and reached to the medicine cabinet for the aspirin bottle. Her head hurt.

God, I’ve decided I’m not going to cry anymore. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, and crying over the fact I flipped open a book and had a Valentine’s Day card he sent me fall out has got to stop. My life is full of reminders of him. He was in my life for ten years. He’s there, in scrapbooks, in snapshots, in little knickknacks around the house. He fixed my car, and helped build my bookshelves, he even tried to teach me how to make pizza. Work is filled with reminders of him, he is there in every decision and in every stock position we hold. God, I’m not going to grieve anymore. You’ve got to take away the pain. But I’m through crying. He’s gone.

She felt like she had been sideswiped by the same semi that had killed Leo.

When the pizza came out, she ate one piece and put the rest into the refrigerator, not hungry, not caring that she really needed to eat more than she had been in the last few months.

She took a hot shower and let the water fill the room with steam, cried her very last tears until she felt hollow inside, and quietly said goodbye.

She was going on with life. She only hoped it held something worth going on for.



“What do you think?” Kevin asked, leaning against the side of the construction trailer.

James looked out over the eighty acres of land Kevin was turning into a new subdivision of affordable homes and felt slightly stunned. “Kevin, you have done wonders with the business in six years.”

His friend laughed. “Believe me, it has more to do with you than you realize. The early days of the business established such a high-quality standard that almost overnight the business opportunities began to come to us faster than we could meet them.

“It was that house we built for Ben Paulson that turned the corner. He considered the construction so top-notch, that when he began to put together this community, he approached us with the business.”

“How’s the business mix—new construction versus additions, reconstruction?”

“It’s tipped sixty-forty toward new construction now. You want to take a look?” Kevin asked, motioning to the current homes being built.

“Please.”

They walked across the site to one of the framed-in homes. “We have five basic models going up in this subdivision. Most are selling before we even pour the foundation. This is the most popular model. Three bedrooms, two baths, with an open great room.”

“You’ve got a good architect.”

Kevin stepped into the studded kitchen. “Not as good as you,” he replied with a grin, “but Paul has an eye for both space and cost. He’s been a good addition to the team.”

Kevin stepped through what would someday be a patio door. “Of course, partner, when you get tired of Africa, we’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

James laughed. “I think you’ve got things well under control.” He looked around the staked-out lots and thought about what this place would look like in five years, full of homes and families and kids, a place for dreams to be born. It felt good knowing the business here had thrived while the work in Africa had thrived as well. There were times when he could see God’s hand at work and this was one of them. Instead of building only here, they were building both here and overseas.



The doorbell rang.

Rae was sprawled on the couch with the book that had come in the mail that day. It was Tuesday and it had been a long day. She had decided on the drive home that it was time to pick up the final part of life she had left idle since Leo’s death, the book she had been working on. When she had found the package with the medical text waiting for her on her doorstep, it had solidified her decision.

She glanced at her watch. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

With some reluctance, she put down the book and went to get the door.

“Dave.” She was both surprised and pleased to see him.

“Dinner?” He was carrying a pizza box from the place down the street and his smile made her grin in reply.

“You angel. Sure. It’s what? Only ten o’clock?” she teased.

“I just got off work, and it’s time for congratulations.”

“Oh? You won your case?”

He rolled his eyes. “You, my little friend. When were you going to call me?”

Her…oh, the stock that went public…Her smile widened. It had been such a long day she had actually forgotten. “It was only a little killing,” she demurred.

“Sixty-four percent in one day. And you had an even hundred thousand on the line. I would have brought ice cream as well, but they were out of pralines and cream. You look good,” he said, seriously.

She wasn’t in the mood for serious tonight. “Thanks a lot, friend. Go get silverware, the game’s on.”

He moved around her town house with the ease of an old friend, finding plates and napkins, the pizza cutter he had put in her stocking last Christmas.

The living room coffee table had served as a table for many such late-night dinners. Dave discarded his suit jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves, kicked off his shoes. He settled on the floor, using the couch as a backrest. “Who’s winning?” The Chicago Bulls game was muted on the TV.

Rae handed him one of the sodas she had snagged from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, helped herself to a slice of the thick-crust supreme pizza. “The Bulls are up by eight in the third quarter, the Sonics are having a bad night.”

He nudged the book on the edge of the table around so he could see the title. “Cell Microbiology?”

“Research for my book,” Rae commented easily, sinking back against the pillows she had pulled from off the couch. “This pizza is great. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“What were you doing at the office till ten o’clock?”

“Some pro bono work. Yet another father not fulfilling his child support obligations.”

“Will he come through?”

Dave shrugged. “I can force it here as long as he doesn’t go underground with a cash job or change states.”

“You’ll let me know what the family is short?”

Dave nodded. “The fund got enough cash?”

“Eight thousand. It will last about another ten weeks.”

“Let me know when it runs dry. I’ll match you again.”

“Thanks.”

Dave nodded.

Rae smiled quietly at her friend as he snagged the remote and turned the sound back on. They frequently supported families they knew were in financial need. He was as generous as she was, he just didn’t like people to know it.

They watched the game and ate pizza, the silence between them that of old friends. “So, have you thought about coming with us?” Dave asked finally.

Rae laughed. “Lace sent you, didn’t she?”

“Rae, you did not come last year. We understood. But you need a vacation. I’m not accepting any excuses this year. If I can get a week off, you can, too.”

“Dave, I’ve got new clients to deal with, a load of new stock issues to evaluate, and a market that’s so high it makes me cringe. I can’t afford to be gone a week.”

“That is exactly why you have to come. There is never going to be a good time to take a break. When the markets are good, you’re worried about them dropping, and when the markets correct, you’re worried about losing other people’s money. You’re coming.”

She tipped her soda can toward him. “When did you get so pushy?”

He chuckled. “Rae, I’ve always been pushy, you just like me too much to care.”

Rae sighed. She had thought about the problem at length. She did want to go…. “I’ll call Jack tomorrow and see if he’s free.” Jack had been her and Leo’s first backer in the business, and as an experienced stockbroker, she trusted him to keep the accounts stable while she was away from the office.

“He is. I already called him.”

Rae chuckled. “I should have never given you that power of attorney.” It had made sense at Leo’s death to have another partner officially on the books in case something happened to her. Dave had been the natural choice.

“I’m your biggest backer, not to mention one of your more wealthy clients. You have to listen to me,” Dave replied with a grin.

She thumped him with a pillow. “I think it’s time I get some new friends,” she remarked and had to duck when a pillow came back at her.



“The doctor said fresh air and rest?”

“That’s taking a little liberty with his prescription, but yes, that’s essentially it. That, and some medication that is making the pharmacist rich.” James was sitting at the dining room table at his sister’s house, his chair turned and his legs stretched out before him, watching her finish clipping pictures for the Sunday school class she taught. He had managed to sleep until ten and for once had awoke with some energy and only moderate pain. Either the medicine or the downtime were helping. He had eaten lunch with Mom, then come over to see Patricia and the kids.

“Then camping fits the bill. Come with us.”

“Patricia, it hardly seems right to invite myself along on your vacation.”

“Nonsense. The cabin can easily sleep ten, and we had planned the food assuming Paul was going to be able to come. Since he can’t, you might as well take his place.” His sister nodded toward the window. “The kids would relish having you around for an entire week.”

James motioned his coffee cup toward the kids. “Last night you were worried about them wearing me out,” he replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

Patricia grinned. “That was before I knew Paul was flying to Dallas. You’re new, male and a relative. They will listen to you. I’m just Mom.”

He laughed. “Ahh. Kid patrol. I get it.”

“Seriously, you wouldn’t have to do anything but sleep in, eat wonderful food and watch a bobber. It would do you good.”

“What are the odds there are bugs that bite?” he asked, smiling. He had already made the decision to go, he just liked making his sister work for it.

“I will personally tell even the mosquitoes to leave you alone,” she promised.

He set down his coffee cup and absently rubbed his aching wrist. “What do I need to pack?”

“Yes!” Her eyes danced with delight and he laughed.

“The days are comfortable but the nights can be a little chilly since we are beside the lake. I would bring whatever you want to read, the selection there is eclectic and quite old.”

Now he had reason to laugh. “You just described a weekend on a building site, Patricia.”

His sister grinned. “Then it will feel like home.”




Chapter Three


“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Dave tossed her suitcase in the trunk.

“A vacation will do you good,” he replied, reaching over to drop a college cap he had snagged from his bag onto her head. “Lighten up. You’re officially on seven days of R and R. Besides, it’s Memorial Day Weekend.”

She wrinkled her nose at him and adjusted the cap. “Dave, my idea of a camping trip is slightly different than yours. I suppose you brought that jazz CD for the trip again, didn’t you?”

“It’s tradition.”

“You don’t like jazz. You just don’t have the heart to tell Lace that.”

He blushed slightly. “It was a birthday gift. One that I appreciate,” he stressed.

Rae grinned. “Why don’t you just ask her out and end her misery?”

“And ruin a great friendship?” He rolled his eyes. “Please, you’ve got to be kidding.”

She pushed him aside to rearrange the bags he had crammed in the trunk. “You’re just gun-shy about making a commitment. It’s past time you got married, you know.”

“Don’t start acting like my mother, Rae. I’ve got a life I enjoy. The marriage bit can wait.”

“You wait too much longer, friend, and she’s going to find someone else,” Rae replied. She gestured to the walk. “Bring me that black bag next.”

He picked it up and the smaller one beside it, giving her a dirty look. “A few books you said? You’re taking your entire library.”

“I told you my idea of a vacation was different than yours. I plan to sleep, read and do some writing.”

“No fishing?”

She took the smaller bag from him. “I might drown a worm if you promise nothing will bite it.”

She reached for the other bag, but he held it back.

“This feels like a computer….”

She put her hands on her hips and grinned at him. “Don’t push it, David, you’ll lose the argument.”

He handed it over. “Am I going to get nagged into finding you a copy of the Wall Street Journal every morning?”

“I’ll read it on-line,” she replied, slipping the laptop into a cushioned spot between her jacket and his. “Okay, let’s pick up Lace.”

“Mind if I relegate you to the back seat for the trip?”

Rae grinned. “I thought you said you weren’t interested?”

“You’re just going to stick your nose into a book. Lace likes my jokes.”

Rae laughed. “There are some she likes just about as much as you like jazz.”

“She laughs.”

“She’s got a sweet heart. And if you break it, I’m going to make your life miserable,” Rae replied.



“Rae?”

The question nudged her away from her research. “Hmm?”

“We’re going to stop at the welcome station and get new state maps. You want us to bring you a box of their free popcorn?”

Rae shifted the pen she had clutched between her teeth. “Sure. While you’re there, check and see if they have new maps of the lake. They were planning to update them to show the new trails.”

“Okay.”

It was almost four in the afternoon. Lace and Dave had been chatting for most of the drive. Rae had lost track of the conversation a couple of hours ago.

She stretched her back and considered putting her research notes and books back in order. The cabin was about thirty minutes away now. A glance at the spine of the book showed she had more than a hundred pages still to read in this latest medical textbook.

She should have become a doctor.

Yawning, she slipped her page marker into the book and closed it, reached over and slipped it back into her briefcase.

The actual manuscript she was working on was in her suitcase, the three hundred pages too hefty for her briefcase. Writing was her one persistent hobby. Crafts, sewing, watercolors had come and gone over the years; she always came back to her writing. She was getting better. Lace and Dave both liked this story. Leo had liked it so much he’d tried to convince her to cut back her hours at the office so she could finish it.

She wanted to finish the novel and write a dedication page to Leo. She thought it might be a way to help her say goodbye.

She smiled. She wouldn’t mind seeing her name on the spine of a published book, either. For all this effort, there should be some payback.

She felt lighter in spirit than she had in the last year. They were right. The vacation was going to do her some good. She was looking forward to days not driven by the markets, a chance to read for pleasure, the freedom to sleep in, the right to be lazy.

The edge to the grief was beginning to temper. The sadness was still there, heavy, and so large it threatened to swamp her, but the pain was less. She had prepared for the vacation. She knew it was going to be hard, not having Leo with them, not having him there for the game, or messing up the kitchen with his creations, or dragging her hiking.

It was going to be okay.

She should have picked up working on the book months ago. It was good, and when she worked on it, she felt better than she had in a long time.

She was determined to smile, laugh, and do her best to have a good time.



“Emily is asleep.”

James glanced in the rearview mirror to see his niece collapsed against the bright yellow Big Bird pillow she had brought with her. He smiled at his nephew Tom, sitting in the front passenger seat. “It was only a matter of time. Your mom was asleep hours ago.”

“She was up late with Dad,” Tom replied. “They’ve been talking about having another baby.”

James choked. “Do you want a brother or sister?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Sister. That way Emily will stay out of my stuff and have another girl to play with.”

It was a big deal when you were nine.

“I hear your dad has been coaching you for the football team.”

“He’s trying. I still can’t throw a spiral. Jason can, and he makes a big deal out of it.”

“You’ll get it with more practice.”

“Want to play catch with me?”

James flexed his aching ankle and was grateful the van had cruise control. “I’d be glad to, Tom.”

“Thanks. Mom doesn’t catch very well.”

James grinned. “She never could. I spent years trying to teach her how to catch a baseball.”

“She says she was pretty good.”

“It’s relative, Tom. She was pretty good for a girl who shut her eyes when the ball got close.”

Tom grinned. “She does that with a football, too.” He grimaced. “I hit her in the face one time by accident. She wasn’t very happy.”

James glanced back at Patricia, curled up awkwardly in the back seat with her head tucked against her jacket and a pillow. “She’s your mom. I bet she’s forgotten all about it.”

“I hope so. My birthday is next month.”

James laughed.

“Check your mom’s directions again, Tom. I see exit fifty-eight coming up.”

Papers rustled as Tom found the map and the handwritten directions. “That’s the one. Then take Bluff Road north for five miles. She’ll have to direct from there. I know it’s lots of trees and water.”

“Got it.”

Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up in front of the vacation getaway.

It was a beautiful cabin, built at the top of a hill looking out over a calm lake that the map showed went for miles. They were half a mile from the nearest neighbor, and ten miles from town.

James stepped out of the van and stretched, fighting the pain in his spine that came from sitting too long, the muscles in his ribs aching with every breath he took. He smiled at the sound of birds. “Who did you say owned this place?” he asked Patricia.

“A friend of Dave’s. There are a couple canoes and a fishing boat in the boathouse and a neighbor has horses he lets us ride.”

Patricia pointed to the shoreline to the north. “Just around that bend is a large meadow and what is practically a sandy beach. It makes a great place to picnic. The fishing is good everywhere along this inlet. The kids were catching crappies off the end of the pier last year.”

“It looks like we’re the first to arrive. Do you have a key?”

“It’s off the silver star on my key ring.”

The porch was solid oak and extended around the cabin, the front door snug and smooth to open. James stepped inside and paused to enjoy the sight. The place had obviously been designed by an architect who knew his stuff. A large fireplace with open seating around it, a spacious kitchen, a large dining room, an encompassing view of the lake. The deck on the back of the house led down to a pavilion built beside the water.

He turned as Patricia came in with a bag of groceries. “This is going to be a good place to relax.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you came.”

She turned at the sound of another car. “That must be Dave and the others now.”



“Lace, do you want the Wedding Ring quilt or the David’s Star quilt?”

“The blue one,” Lace replied from somewhere inside the massive walk-in closet.

Rae laughed. “They are both blue.”

“Then you choose.” Lace stepped back into the room, having hung up her clothes. “I do love the smell of cedar in a closet. You want me to unpack your suitcase?”

“Sure, though I doubt the jeans and T-shirts will care much where they are tossed.”

“Didn’t you bring anything nice?”

Rae grinned. “Why should I? I can borrow from you.”

Lace groaned as she saw the contents of Rae’s suitcase. “I’m going to get you fashion conscious if it takes my entire life to do it.”

“Lace, face it. I’ve got a very limited sense of aesthetics. If it’s comfortable, I wear it.” Rae pulled out the small bear Leo had given her and tossed it on her bed near her pillow. “You ready to eat? The guys are probably raiding the food even as we speak.”

“Sure. We can walk it off tomorrow. Dave wants to try that trail that wanders up to the eagle viewing platform.”

“A five-mile hike, mostly uphill, is not my idea of a good time,” Rae replied.

She laughed at Lace’s expression. Her friend had discovered the romance novel tucked in the side pocket of the suitcase.

“Want to borrow it after I’m done?”

Lace grinned and tossed it on the nightstand. “With two, good-looking, single guys on the premises? Why bother to read?”

Rae tugged Lace to the door. “Come on, friend, there is mischief to make. I still owe Dave for that ice down my back two years ago.”

Lace laughed. “The long arm of revenge is about to strike one unprepared man. What are you planning?”

“I have no idea. But that has never deterred me before.”



James couldn’t decide who he liked more, Lace or Rae. They were sprawled out on the floor battling it out over a checker board, both having soundly beat Dave an hour earlier.

Lace was the more outgoing of the two, Rae more contained and likely to be the one who smiled quietly. They were obviously old, lifelong friends.

No, it wasn’t really a contest. Lace was nice, but Rae…Rae had him almost regretting he was going back to Africa in a couple months.

Dave dropped a new log on the fire and both ladies jumped. He ruffled Rae’s hair. “Sorry. Want a toasted marshmallow if I get the stuff?”

“Sure.”

Patricia came back and James slid over, gestured for her to put her feet up on the couch. She had finally convinced two worn-out kids that ten o’clock was late enough for bed. “Thanks, my feet are killing me.”

“Maybe you should have passed on the game of tag.”

She laughed. “And lose out on the opportunity to hug my son? It’s worth a few aches.”

James pushed off her tennis shoes and gently massaged her feet. Both her ankles were swollen. He smiled. He was almost positive she was pregnant.

He would be back in Africa when the child was born. His face tightened at the thought.

“Ribs still bothering you?” Patricia asked quietly.

“Not bad,” James replied. The pain was tolerable. He’d live. “What’s that you’re eating?” he asked, noting the sandwich she had brought back with her.

She looked guilty. “Roast beef and hot mustard.”

She was pregnant.

James grinned. “Next time you go scavenging for something to eat, I’ll teach you how to make Manallies. You’ll love them.”

Lace won the checker game and Rae rolled over onto her back with a groan. “Lace, you are a devious, underhanded, world champion of world champions. What is that now, the last fifteen games we have played?”

“Leo could beat me,” Lace replied, sliding the pieces back into the box.

“Leo could beat anyone at anything,” Rae replied, pushing herself up and redoing the ponytail that was holding back her long hair.

Dave offered a golden toasted marshmallow. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Rae slipped it off the stick. “Thanks.” She stood up. “Anyone need a drink? I’m going to go raid the ice chest.”

“See if we’ve got another Sprite,” Lace replied. Rae glanced at Dave who shook his head and at Patricia who indicated a soda at her feet, stopping at James with a raised eyebrow.

“Root beer.”

She nodded. “Coming up.”

She was gone a long time for someone simply getting sodas from the ice chest. She came back with three soda cans. She handed the Sprite to Lace. “Dave, you want to help me carry in more wood for the box? The radio said we might get some rain tonight.”

“Sure. Be right there.”

James caught a private byplay between Lace and Rae, saw a smile pass between them, and wondered if the guys should stick together. They were outnumbered two to one. Rae looked at him as she handed him the soda he had asked for; James decided Dave was on his own.

They disappeared out the front door and James saw Lace struggling to contain her laughter.

“Sorry, I’ve got to see this. It’s two years overdue.” Lace slipped over to the window to look out at the porch.

“What did he do?”

“Put ice down her back when she and Leo were dancing.”

James glanced at his sister. “Who’s Leo? He’s been mentioned several times,” he asked softly.

“Rae’s business partner. He was killed in a car accident a year and a half ago,” Patricia replied.

“They were close?”

“Yeah.”

His heart tightened. No wonder he saw sadness behind Rae’s smile.

There was a crash from the front of the house and the roar of a surprised man.

Lace was laughing. “Good job, Rae.” She came back and dropped into one of the plush chairs. “We’re going to need to get more ice,” she remarked, reaching down to pick up her soda. “Dave is sitting in it.”

Dave came in brushing water off the back of his jeans and shaking ice out of the back of his sweatshirt. “Rae, that was excessive,” he mildly remarked, scowling at her as she slipped under his arm.

“That was two years of interest,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “You want a towel?”

He tweaked her ponytail. “Bring me two.”

She came back with two bath towels, draped one around his shoulders. He took the other and rubbed under his sweatshirt.

“You know I owe you one now.”

She laughed. “Got to catch me first.”

She dropped into the chair opposite Lace. “Lace, he’s got six days to retaliate. I think I should have waited a few days.”

Dave came in carrying a soda and Rae ducked when he stopped behind her chair, half-afraid she was going to get a bath with it.

James chuckled.

It was going to be quite a week around these three friends.




Chapter Four


“Tranquil morning.”

It was the crack of dawn. Rae, seated on the porch steps, turned, surprised. She knew neither Dave nor Lace were likely to be moving at this time of the morning.

James.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, concerned. He was in pain, she could see it in his movements and his face.

“Overdid it yesterday. I pay for mistakes like that,” he replied, sinking down onto the porch steps beside her. “Thanks for making the coffee.”

She smiled. “Not a problem. I don’t wake up without it.”

“These days, neither do I,” he replied. “Why aren’t you sleeping in?”

How was she suppose to answer that? The truth or something that made sense? Rae shrugged a shoulder, then changed her mind and decided to tell him the truth. “Ever have one of these experiences in life that just stops you in your tracks until you figure it out?”

She liked his smile and the frank way he turned and met her gaze. “Like God just grabbed your jacket collar, tugged, and said �No, think about this’?” he asked softly.

Rae nodded. She drew her knees up and folded her arms around them. “I woke up about 2:00 a.m. with Psalm 37 running through my mind. I don’t know why. Feels important.”

He leaned back on his hands, his expression thoughtful. “It’s an interesting Psalm. Trusting God with your dreams, the security He provides, the promise of refuge in times of trouble. What were you thinking about when you went to bed—if you don’t mind me asking?”

Rae smiled at the room he was trying to give her. She didn’t know if it was the conversation topic or the fact it was her that had him slightly uncomfortable. “Nothing earth-shattering. The book I’ve been writing.”

He looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were a writer.”

“Have been for years. I’m not published, just enjoy doing it.” She tipped her coffee cup to see if there was any left.

“Sounds like fun.”

She smiled. “It’s a different kind of work.”

A blue jay dropped down past the porch steps to land on the flagstones and check out what looked like a dropped dime. He took back to flight with a raucous cry.

“Most of the time when a scripture comes to mind like you described, it’s because it is an answer to a question you were asking.”

The only things I’ve been asking lately is where do I go now that Leo is dead….

“Could be,” she replied, knowing he was right. She nodded toward his coffee mug. “Want some more? I need a refill.” She didn’t want to think about Leo and the past. Not on this vacation.

He knew. It was there in his eyes. He knew she was avoiding something God wanted her to deal with. He handed her the mug. “Sure,” he said.

He’d probably never been afraid to face anything in his life. Rae wished she had that kind of courage. She didn’t. Not when it came to saying goodbye to what she might have had. “Black?”

“Please.”

When she came back out with the coffee, he had moved, stretched his legs out fully, was slowly working his right knee. He was doing his best not to grimace with the movement.

Rae felt an intense sense of empathy for him. He was like Kevin, a man accustomed to days of physical work. The pain had to be hard to cope with. She sat back down beside him, leaving a foot of space between them, turning slightly so she could lean against a porch post. “Patricia said the bug was damaging your joints,” she remarked, handing him the refilled mug.

“It’s doing damage like lupus, fibromyalgia, or the aggressive forms of arthritis. The joints lose the ability to move freely.”

“Is it getting better?”

He grimaced. “At a snail’s pace. They don’t know what bug I picked up, and they don’t know how long the symptoms are going to last.”

“Is it the pain that messes up your sleep?” she asked, curious.

“Yes and no. The sleep study showed there is a lot of alpha wave activity during what should be delta sleep. My body isn’t sleeping properly anymore. They don’t know why.”

“You weren’t praying for patience by any chance, were you?”

He smiled. “I was praying for someone to show up in Africa who knew how to train medical staff. We were building clinics faster than we could staff them.”

“What’s the problem with getting staff?”

“Money. Doctors who have been in practice for a few years have grown to like the income and don’t want to go, doctors straight out of medical school are so deep in school debts, they can’t afford to go.”

“I don’t know why that surprises me. We’ve got the same problem staffing the Crisis Centers here.”

The door behind them opened. “Would you two like a hot or cold breakfast? We’ve got everything from fruit and cereal to bacon and eggs,” Patricia asked.

“I want you to give me another pancake making lesson,” Rae requested, scooping up her mug. “The squirrels can eat the ones I burn.”

James laughed. “Rae, she’s not the best at it either.”

“She’s better than I am. That’s all I care about,” Rae replied with a grin as they both went inside.

“Dave, Rae is cooking.” It was a whispered warning overheard from the hall. James had to smile at Lace’s reaction. No one could be that bad a cook.

He changed his mind thirty minutes later. Rae had tried, but the pancakes were not like the ones his mom made.

Rae chuckled at the expressions on her friends’ faces around the table, pulled back the plate of remaining pancakes she had set on the table and reappeared with a plate of pancakes Patricia had fixed. “I’m getting better, you didn’t try to stifle a gag.”

“Rae, why don’t you just give up?” Dave asked. “It’s not your fault your grandmother refused to cook. Cooking is something you either learn as a child or it’s a lost art.”

“Nope. I’m going to learn how if it kills me,” she replied, helping herself to two of the pancakes Patricia had fixed.

“It might kill one of us one of these days,” Dave replied, then yelped when someone kicked him under the table.

“David Hank McAllister, be nice.”

“She knows I’m teasing, Lace.”

“Hank?” Rae burst out laughing.

Dave turned to Lace. “Now see what you’ve done? You promised you wouldn’t tell.”

Rae’s laughter intensified. “Hank. Oh this is rich.”

“I’ll give you rich, Amy.”

Rae wrinkled her nose at him and did her best to stop her laughter. “I can’t believe I’ve known you ten years without knowing your middle name.”

“What’s so funny?” Emily had joined them, wiping sleep from her eyes. James lifted her up into his lap, his own laughter hard to contain. “Just adult stuff,” he told her, smiling.

The threesome quieted down. “Sorry, Dave,” Lace whispered, then giggled.

He snagged his coffee mug to get a refill, his head shaking as he walked to the kitchen. “Women.”

Rae leaned across Dave’s empty chair toward Lace, a smile dancing across her face. “I think I know what we should get him for his birthday.”

Lace had to stifle her laughter at the whispered suggestion. “Think we could still find the CD?” Lace asked. “He hates country music almost as much as he does jazz. It’s perfect.”

“You knew?”

Lace grinned. “He hides a cringe every time I choose track four. He is so easy to get.”

“Lace, you are good,” Rae said, sitting back in her chair and looking at her friend with new respect.

Lace leaned back in her chair. “I’m better than good,” she replied with a smile. “He’s never going to know what hit him.”

Laughter was good medicine, James thought. He hadn’t felt this good in weeks. Watching Rae and Lace, he couldn’t contain his smile.

Rae caught him watching her and grinned. “You’ll get used to us, James.”

“I’m enjoying it,” he replied, watching her blush slightly.

Lace saw the blush and turned to look at him. He winked. James saw Lace hesitate a moment and glance back at Rae. Then a wide smile crossed her face. “Dave,” Lace called, “we want to go canoeing this morning. But I’m riding with you. Rae sent me into the drink last time.”

Dave appeared in the doorway, munching on a piece of bacon. “Only if I’m steering.”

“You can steer,” Lace agreed, getting up to clear her place.

“Lace, I wanted to lounge on the patio with a book,” Rae remarked, stacking the plates.

“No, you don’t. You want to go canoeing.”

Rae looked at her friend, puzzled. “Okay.” She glanced over at Patricia and James. “Either one of you want to go canoeing?”

“The kids and I have a date with a pair a horses,” Patricia replied, smiling.

“Can I steer?” James asked quietly.

Rae looked at him, finally caught the byplay between him and Lace, flushed, then laughed. “Sure.” She snagged her friend’s sweater. “Come on, Lace. You need to put those plates in the sink.”

Lace let herself get tugged out of the room. “I need to put these plates in the sink,” she agreed, winking back at James.

Dave watched them go with a rueful smile. He tugged out his chair with his foot. “It is going to be a long week.”

James laughed. He had a feeling both he and Dave were going to enjoy it.



“Do you want to beach the canoe and rest your wrists for a while?”

James smiled. “Relax, Rae. I’m fine. That’s the fourth time you’ve asked.”

“You’re here to recover, not make matters worse.”

She rested her paddle across the bow and leaned over to watch a school of sunfish slide by near the surface.

She had a nice back. He’d been admiring the view for the last hour.

His wrists were sore, but not intolerable. His shirt was almost dry. There had been a laughter-filled water fight between the two canoes about forty minutes back. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in months. Nothing to do but drift with the current and spend time with a beautiful lady.

The canoe way ahead of them rocked wildly and Rae ducked her head so as not to look. “Tell me she isn’t trying to stand up.”

James chuckled. “Okay, I won’t.”

Lace somehow managed to turn around without tipping the canoe over. “Want to catch up with them?” James asked.

Rae shook her head. “They are probably debating the ethics of civil litigation again. I’ll pass.”

“What does Lace do for a living, anyway?”

Rae resumed paddling, her movements sure and smooth. It added a slight sway to her back. “It’s more a question of what she hasn’t done. She’s the daughter of a federal judge and a district attorney. She’s got a law degree, but more because it’s what the family does than anything else. She’s forgotten more law than most lawyers ever learn. She doesn’t like to settle down. She’s worked in international banking, edited textbooks, worked for Senator White. She’s currently doing some consulting work for a sports management firm downtown.”

“Was that where you three met? College?”

“I’ve known Lace since I was nine. We met Dave and Leo at Northwestern. We made an awesome foursome. Dave the fighter for justice, Leo the energy, Lace the constant new interests, and me the practical planner.”

James smiled. “You’re also the hub they revolve around.”

“That’s because I’m always there doing the same thing,” Rae replied with a smile. “I’m a creature of habit.”

“You grew up with your grandmother?”

“My parents died in a car wreck when I was nine. We were living in Texas at the time. The next day this wonderful lady in her fifties appeared and said, �Don’t worry. You’ve still got me.’ I had heard about her all my life, got Christmas presents and birthday gifts, but not seen her since I was about five. The day we arrived at her house in Chicago, five inches of snow fell. I thought I had moved to another planet.”

James smiled. She had loved her grandmother a lot, he could hear it in her voice. He caught a glimpse of golden brown and dipped his paddle deep, turned the canoe twenty degrees to the left. “Look behind that fallen tree.” A deer had come down to the water’s edge to drink.

“She’s beautiful,” Rae whispered.

The animal raised its head, paused, then went back to drinking.

They watched for several minutes. The animal picked its way over driftwood, then slipped back into the woods.

“Want to try out those sandwiches Patricia sent?” There was a clearing up ahead of them.

Rae picked up her paddle. “Sure.”



“So, did you have a good time?”

Rae rolled onto her side in the spacious bed, half smiled at the question from the other side of the dark room. “I can’t believe you set me up.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

Rae smiled in the darkness. “Yes, he is. He’s also leaving the country in less than three months,” she pointed out, being practical.

“That’s tomorrow’s problem,” Lace replied. “It was good to see you enjoying yourself.”

“Lace, I always enjoy a vacation.”

“Not since Leo died.”

Rae bit her bottom lip. “I really miss him, Lace.”

“I know you do,” came the soft reply. “You okay?”

It had been a nice day, but it had been hard. The cabin was yet another place filled with memories of Leo. She had missed Leo’s tap on the door, waking her up at 5:00 a.m. to go fishing, missed having him fix breakfast for them. She had enjoyed the afternoon with James. He didn’t seem to mind the silence or the space she preferred. It was almost better, knowing he was going back to Africa—easier at least. The last thing she wanted to even consider was risking getting hurt again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She would be. When God helped her fix the hole in her heart. “Remember those canoe races Leo and Dave used to have?”

“Holding that rope across the water for a finish line was not one of our more well thought out actions,” Lace replied.

Rae laughed softly. They had both been pulled into the water when the guys reached up and grabbed the rope. “They had to have been planning that one for weeks ahead of time.”

“You got Dave good last night, by the way.”

“Thanks. Watch my back for me, okay? I have no idea how he’s going to retaliate.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lace promised. “’Night, Rae.”

“’Night, Lace.”



Rae wished she had brought her jacket. It was late afternoon. The breeze coming up from the lake made it cool in the shade. She had hiked to the highest point near the cabin, a hill that let her look out over the water. They had been at the cabin for three days, and the slow, easy pace had taken away a sense of strain that she had not been aware she was carrying.

God, You know what Psalm 37 says. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. I feel like that promise got broken.

The prayer was a soft one. Rae settled back against the trunk of a tree and watched the water.

…the desires of your heart… That’s what she felt had been taken from her with Leo’s death. She’d had a relationship with him, a deep one, a relationship that had been heading somewhere. Leo knew her, inside, where she rarely let many people in.

God, why did You rip away what was the desire of my heart?

She tilted her head back and watched puffy clouds drift across the blue sky. For the first time in over a year, she felt a sense of peace settle inside.



“What’s wrong? You’re frowning.”

A cold soda appeared at her elbow. Rae looked up from her laptop. James had begun to join her most afternoons on the patio, and while she would not admit it to Lace, she had begun to look forward to his company.

“I think I need to rewrite chapter eighteen.”

“Rae, the story is fine.” He’d been up until 2:00 a.m. reading the manuscript. It was more than fine, it was wonderful. She just needed the courage to finish it.

“I think it’s slow.”

He pulled over a chair. “Give me the printout. Let me see.”

She shifted the book holding down the manuscript pages and gave him the last four chapters. She gratefully drank the soda as she watched him read.

It was odd, how far their relationship had come in five days. She’d never expected to be so comfortable around him. She’d relaxed, and he’d turned into a very good friend.

“Read it again without page 314, I bet that’s what you’re sensing is wrong.”

She paged back and forth in the on-line text. “That’s it. It’s too technical.”

He picked up his own drink. “I want an autographed copy when it’s published.”

“James, it may never get finished, let alone find a publisher.”

He smiled. “You’ll finish it. You’ve got, what, another five hundred pages to go?”

She laughed. “Trust me to choose a big story to tell.”

“I like the fact you think big.”

She blinked. Smiled. “The kids catching any fish?”

“Emily’s got six and Dave’s only caught two. Emily’s decided it is time to start giving him pointers, he’s letting the team down.”

Rae laughed. “How are Lace and Tom doing?”

“Scheming. They disappeared about an hour ago for what Tom called a �super-duper’ spot.”

“That sounds like Tom. Got the time? Patricia asked to be woken up at four.”

He glanced at his watch. “She’s got another half hour.”

“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

James grinned. “I sure think so. She was eating pickles for breakfast this morning.”

He leaned back in his chair to pick up the book on the lounge chair that Rae had been reading that morning. Richard Foster’s book on prayer. He liked her reading selection. “Is this one good?”

“Very.”

“Bookstores and hot fudge sundaes were the two things I missed most about the States.”

“I don’t imagine the vanilla ice cream in Africa is the same as a Dairy Queen here.”

“Didn’t even come close. Want to ride to town with me to find some good ice cream?”

His offer caught her off guard.

Interesting…she looked like a doe caught in a car’s headlights. “I promised Tom a banana split for having thrown a perfect spiral,” he said gently. He’d just walked into something that caused her pain and he had no idea what it was.

“I think I’ll pass.”

There was the clatter of feet and the sound of laughter from the front porch. James squeezed her shoulder gently before walking inside to meet the fishing champs.



Several hours later, James carefully set the sack he held down on the kitchen counter. He flexed his wrist which had threatened to drop the package. The rest was helping, but he had such a long way to go before his body recovered. The only thing predictable was the pain. He would be so grateful to be able to do normal tasks like carry in the groceries without having to think about them first. Tom had disappeared down to the pavilion.

“Thank you, James,” his sister said, walking in behind him. “I didn’t mean to leave you with the groceries to carry in.”

“It was three bags, Patricia,” he said ruefully; the pain made it feel like thirty. “How’s Emily’s hand?”

“It’s barely a scratch. A Band-Aid fixed it.” She started putting away the groceries. “Since we’ve got cornmeal, should I deep-fry the fish as well as make hush puppies?”

“Most of the fish are bluegills—they are going to dress as popcorn pieces, so I would plan to deep-fry them. Do we have some newspaper we can use?”

“Under the sink, there’s a stash just for cleaning fish.”

James found them. “Thanks.”

He glanced around as he left the cabin, then walked down to join Dave and Lace and the kids where they were preparing to clean the fish they had caught that afternoon. Rae was nowhere in sight.

It bothered him that he’d upset her with his earlier invitation to get ice cream. He had unintentionally touched a raw memory, and he needed to know that she was okay.

She’d been disappearing occasionally, taking some long walks. Hopefully, that was where she had headed this time.



She was getting her endurance back; she had made it to the top of the trail without being so out of breath she felt ready to collapse. Rae settled on the big rock that made a comfortable perch from which she could see most of the sandy stretch of beach. She had forty minutes before dinner, and had decided to take advantage of the time. She thought best when she hiked.

James’s invitation had touched a raw nerve. There was no way he could have known Leo had taken her to that Dairy Queen the last summer they’d spent here. It bothered her that a simple question could throw her so badly.

She knew one reason the pain was lingering.

They would have had a child by now.

She wanted children. Deep inside, being a mother was part of who she wanted to be. She and Leo had talked at some length about having children, how they would restructure the business to let her work from home. She had been looking forward to having children almost as much as she had been looking forward to being married. She liked being single, but for a season in her life, not forever. She had been looking forward to his proposal. Learning he had been carrying the ring with him the night he had died had nearly broken her heart. It had simply been another indication of how unfairly life had treated her. She had been so close to the life she wanted, longed to have. It wasn’t fair that it had been wrenched away from her.

The dream of having children was growing more distant.

She had lost so much of her life when Leo died.

It was so hard to keep letting go of pieces of her life. She propped her chin on her hand, rubbed her eyes. She liked to think, to plan, to look at the future. At times like this, she wanted to curse that part of her nature.

She had her work left, her book. Dave and Lace. An indefinite time of still being single.




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