will be together again.”
Conviction shone bright in Dottie’s blue eyes, like beacons of light directing the way.
Faith blinked back sudden tears. She wished desperately that she could be as assured of her own place in heaven and to be reunited with her family. But why would God take her to live with Him when He’d shown no interest in her on earth?
Dottie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you feeling okay?”
Faith cleared her throat before speaking. “Yes. Fine, thank you.”
“You must forgive me if I tend to rattle on.”
Thinking it infinitely better for Dottie to talk, she said, “Oh, please. Rattle all you’d like.”
And she did. For Faith, the next couple of hours were a breath of fresh air. They discovered many common interests such as antiques, art, theater and cooking. And Faith was more than happy to exhaust all subjects except the topic of her own life. Soon Dottie was yawning and her eyelids drooping.
“Goodness, I don’t think I’ve had this much to talk about in years.” Dottie beamed as Faith helped her settle back into a reclined position.
“Nor have I.” Faith fluffed the pillows beneath Dottie’s head. “You need some rest now. I’ll come back later and we can pick up where we left off.”
Dottie’s eyes were already closed. Unsure what she should do now, Faith wandered over to a window and stood gazing out at the expanse of land that made up the Circle C Ranch. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find sanctuary in the home of a cowboy.
Could it be possible that God was watching out for her after all?
THREE
“Have you found her?”
Vince glared with loathing at his older brother, Anthony, slouched in the leather chair facing Vince’s desk. He looked awful. Like he hadn’t showered or shaved in weeks. His hair was too long and his clothes ratty. Vince struggled to understand how they’d come from the same gene pool. “Not yet. I can’t believe your stupidity.”
“How was I supposed to know she’d divorce you and take off? I mean, what did you do to her anyway?”
Vince curled his fingers into a fist. “Nothing.”
“Something,” Anthony shot back.
Ignoring the barb, Vince asked, “What did you tell Fernando?”
“What you told me to. He said he’d wait until New Year’s Day. If we don’t return the money, he’ll kill us.”
Vince spread his hand on the desk and leaned forward. “He can kill you with my blessing.”
Anthony’s dark eyes held malice. “Just remember what I did for you.”
Vince swore and moved to the window.
They’d been teens, running with the other punks in the neighborhood, dealing dope, stealing what they could just for something to do. One night they’d knocked off a liquor store, but before they could get away, a cop showed up and caught Anthony. He’d gone to jail and never ratted on his baby brother.
Anthony never let Vince forget that if he’d had a rap sheet, he wouldn’t have been admitted into law school.
But after twenty years, that card was wearing thin.
“I’ll find her and get your money.” Vince turned toward his brother. “And then we’re even.”
Anthony stood and walked to the door, his tennis shoes leaving smudged tracks in the cream-colored carpet. “Yeah, whatever you say.”
After he left, Vince picked up the picture of his wife. “I will find you. And you will never leave me again.”
Luke couldn’t concentrate.
Every time he tried to focus on the paperwork lying on the desk, his mind conjured up the image of a cat-eyed blonde. Once again his curious nature wanted to know what was going on with Faith Delange.
He shouldn’t be spending time thinking about Faith. There was still so much to do on the ranch. He’d lost two hands last week because they’d wanted to find a warmer place for the winter. His foreman, Leo Scruggs, was having a hard time finding replacements. The roof on the house and one of the barns needed fixing and a llama would be birthing soon.
Ever since he’d returned to the ranch, his life hadn’t been his own. Every day he found himself becoming more like his father. And the more he enjoyed being a rancher, the more scared he became.
This wasn’t the life he’d wanted. He’d wanted excitement and adventure. At eighteen, he’d taken his desires to the Lord and had been steered toward the military. Knowing he’d had God’s blessing, Luke had applied and been accepted at West Point. The years there were grueling, exciting and character building. He’d walked away with a degree in engineering. But the military still beckoned, even after his five-year service obligation.
Now, he held the rank of captain and his position of authority gave him more opportunity to make a difference in the lives of his men. From the beginning, he’d felt he’d been called to share his faith with his comrades, and now Luke was looked to as a source of comfort and hope.
He’d worked alongside the chaplain to form a Bible fellowship study, and he was constantly awed by the power of Jesus’s love working in the men’s lives. He didn’t want to give that up.
He wished his father were still here.
Luke hadn’t known about his father’s cancer until nearly the end.
Your father is ill, the note had read, come home.
He’d arrived just in time to see his father before he’d died. Guilt for not having been there ate away at him. If he’d only been a better son and kept in better touch. He’d have learned of the illness sooner and come home. He’d have been able to make his dad’s final days easier.
And now, Luke was running his father’s ranch and dragging his feet about leaving when all he really wanted was to get back to his own life, his unit stationed in the Middle East. He only had another twenty days of leave left.
He fired up the computer and looked up Faith on Google. A list of articles came up. Mostly charity events where Faith and her grandfather were present. One photo showed Faith in a gray business suit standing beside her grandfather who sat in a wheelchair. He was old and hunched with strong features. The caption read, “The Delanges to start a foundation for overseas missions through a local church.”
Philanthropy, faith, family and money. What was she running from?
A soft knock sounded on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Faith stepped in. He clicked off the web page.
“I don’t mean to bother you. But…well, your
