turned to Hal for strength. For love. To ease the loneliness that crept into her days. She’d had no idea he would begin to turn the qualities she’d been drawn to into weapons.
Which was why, when it came right down to it, she couldn’t confide in Sandra. It was pointless. No one could rescue her. No one could change her past. God wouldn’t waste His time on someone who’d messed up the way she had.
“Miranda?” Sandra’s voice gently drew her back to reality, nudging her away from the shadowy path her memories always took her down.
“Just a little glitch.” Miranda realized she needed to put Sandra’s mind at ease so she deliberately kept her voice light. “When Hallie dropped Daniel off, she reminded me that she has gymnastics camp next week. I don’t remember her mentioning it before but she insists she did. Either way, I’ll have to find someone else to watch him.”
Miranda didn’t bring up the fact that she had no idea who she could get to take care of Daniel on such short notice. Or that she was a little frustrated with Daniel’s babysitter. When she’d interviewed her, the young teen had seemed enthusiastic about earning some spending money. Miranda had assumed Hallie’s enthusiasm would extend to what she was doing to earn the money, which was take care of a quiet, good-natured little boy for four to five hours during the day. But judging from innocent comments Daniel had made lately, it sounded as if Hallie had a lot of friends. And an unlimited number of cell-phone minutes.
If Miranda couldn’t be with Daniel all the time, she needed to have confidence in the person who was. And she wasn’t sure, anymore, that it was Hallie.
Sandra wiped her hands on a towel and closed her eyes, humming one of the praise songs she enjoyed listening to while they worked. Miranda knew Sandra wasn’t ignoring her—she was praying.
The stab of envy she felt surprised her. She wanted that kind of peace. The kind of peace that made a person smile even if everything around her was falling apart.
Sandra’s eyes popped open and the look on her face made Miranda wonder if God really had said something to her. “I have an idea.”
“What is it?” Miranda asked cautiously, not sure if she should trust the sparkle in Sandra’s eyes.
“Sonshine Camp is next week.” She said the words confidently, as if Miranda was supposed to know what she was talking about.
She let her confusion show. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“At church. It’s from eight to noon. Daniel could come to work with you for an hour and then go over to the church. When it’s finished, he can come back and have lunch here at the diner. Your shift ends at one, so it’ll work out perfectly.”
Miranda should have known Sandra’s solution would have something to do with Chestnut Grove Community Church. An active member of the congregation, Sandra counted Reverend Fraser and his wife, Naomi, as close friends. She frequently referred to the people who attended Chestnut Grove Community as “the family God gave her.”
“We don’t belong to your church.” Miranda voiced the first excuse she could come up with.
“It isn’t just for our members—it’s for the entire community. Haven’t you seen the flyers up everywhere? Pastor Caleb’s youth group is organizing it this year. Anne has been working on craft projects and some of the men are volunteering to help with games. I think they’re even going to play baseball.”
Miranda wavered. Daniel loved baseball. He didn’t play on a youth league but he collected cards and had memorized a mind-boggling number of batting averages and player statistics.
“How much does it cost?” She hadn’t budgeted for camp and an entire week would probably be more than she could afford. Especially when Daniel needed new clothes.
Sandra chuckled. “Not a thing, honey. It’s free.”
“Free?” Miranda couldn’t help the skepticism that leaked into the word.
“The church sponsors this as an outreach to the community. Pastor Caleb and Anne have a heart for this town…and for kids.”
Miranda couldn’t argue with that. It seemed as if whenever she saw Caleb and Anne Williams, they were surrounded by children, ranging in age from their six-month-old daughter, Christina Rose, to the teenagers who made up the church’s youth group. Right after they’d gotten married, they’d adopted Dylan, one of the boys in Caleb’s youth group who’d been in foster care. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine the couple volunteering their time and energy to a weeklong children’s camp.
“I don’t know.” Miranda still wasn’t sure she should let Daniel participate. Over the past few years she’d deliberately kept their lives private. It was easier to keep her distance than to let people get close enough to ask questions she couldn’t answer.
“You can’t say no. This has God’s signature on it,” Sandra said, her unshakable faith evident in her cheerful tone.
“I can’t leave work to drive him there and it’s too far to walk.” Her final, feeble excuse.
Sandra winked. “You leave that to me. We’ll get Daniel there if I have to drive him myself.”
Judging from the number of cars parked in Eli and Rachel’s driveway, Andrew figured the word about Rachel’s condition had gotten out.
He hauled a large white bag stuffed with gift-wrapped packages out of the passenger side of his Ferrari. It contained the ice cream he’d promised and a few things he hoped would make Rachel smile. A CD player with two sets of headphones—one for her and one for baby—and a collection of instrumental lullabies to go along with it. A pair of knitting needles. Gold, of course. He’d stuck them in a ball of funky blue yarn that had reminded him of a poodle. One that had come unraveled. Then, so she couldn’t accuse him of favoring the masculine gender, he’d bought one in raspberry-pink, too.
He knocked at the door and it opened quickly to reveal a pert little face. Ben and Leah Cavanaugh’s daughter, Olivia. Ben and Rachel’s husband, Eli, were brothers so that made the Cavanaughs family as far as Andrew was concerned.
“Is there room for one more?” he whispered.
Olivia recognized him immediately and giggled, opening the door. “We brought lasagna for Aunt Rachel.”
“Looks like I’m right on time, then.”
“Come on.” Without an ounce of shyness, Olivia grabbed his hand and towed him into the foyer. “They’re in the living room.”
The conversation stalled when Andrew appeared in the doorway. Rachel was stretched out on the leather sofa and Eli sat at her feet. Or more likely, Andrew thought, he was sitting on them so she couldn’t get up. Ben stood in front of the fireplace, his infant son, Joseph, cradled in his arms. He must have come over straight from work because he still wore the denim shirt with the logo for Cavanaugh Carpentry embroidered on the pocket. Judging from the sounds coming from the kitchen, Andrew guessed Ben’s wife, Leah, was the one putting dinner together.
Rachel spied the bag. “Is there ice cream in there?”
“Enough to last a day or two. How are you doing?” He wandered close enough to see the fine lines etched at the corners of her eyes.
