in the big comfy chair by the wall of windows in the open den, the fire she’d started earlier crackling, her coffee cup in her hand and her morning notes on her lap. She jotted a few gratitude statements first—Thank You, Lord, for providing us this cabin. Thank You for Rick and Cari and please continue to bless them in their new marriage. Thank You for these children You’ve brought me to and help me to show them the way to Your love.
Holding her pen in midair, Shanna looked out across the way toward the big looming brown barn with the mural of a pair of cowboy boots on its side. Those giant boots with the famous golden soles were the only sign that Simon Adams actually was a real live human being.
Smiling, Shanna jotted one more thing in her journal. And thank You, Lord, for Simon Adams. He brings people joy with his art and his creations, even if he does have a bad attitude right now. Help him to heal, Lord.
Shanna shut the journal with a clap then closed her eyes for a prayer to get her through the day. She’d call Aunt Claire and give her an update and chat a while before the kids woke up. Then they’d start out with a long hike so she could show the kids that God’s world was beautiful in spite of the struggles in their lives. She’d also planned a picnic out by the river—just sandwiches and chips—no fires involved. She planned to sing praise songs and give a short devotional followed by some heart-to-heart discussion.
She wanted these kids to have a happy camping experience. Most of them had problems with either school or their life at home and parents who were too busy and frazzled to take them camping. Amazing to think that some parents were either too busy or self-absorbed and bitter to give their children the simple pleasures in life. Or worse, some took out their frustrations on their children. Katie’s stepfather had done that, using the child as a punching bag. Katie was safe now, living with her grandparents. And even though she was young, she’d so wanted to come on this trip.
Shanna remembered her own upbringing. She knew firsthand how a child could suffer because of neglect and abuse, didn’t she? But she’d overcome all that. She wanted to show these children they could do the same. Especially Katie.
No wonder these kids were confused and troubled. But Shanna couldn’t judge them or their parents. She’d seen and heard all kinds of excuses in her five years of teaching in Savannah. Why would things be any different here in Knotwood Mountain?
When she heard a door slamming, she opened her eyes to see Simon Adams emerging from his cabin, a cup of coffee in his hand and that adorable dog trotting at his side. Using this opportunity to spy on him, Shanna stood up to take her own sweet time looking at Simon. He wore jeans, battered boots and a lightweight denim jacket he’d probably bought at his brother’s store. His dark hair was shaggy and wild, as if he’d gotten out of bed and dressed in a hurry without even combing it. But then, there was something primitive and wild about the man anyway from what Shanna could see. He didn’t walk or stroll, he stalked. He didn’t smile or talk to the dog. He scowled with an intensity that bordered on anger. Maybe he was angry but even an angry man had to take a breath to remind himself he was alive, didn’t he?
Then, as if he knew she were watching, Simon turned and looked right at her, a solid frown marring his otherwise handsome face. Shanna waved a timid wave and watched as he turned and opened the big doors to the studio and quickly disappeared inside, shutting himself away from the world.
And shutting everyone in that world out of his life.
Simon stretched, the muscles in his neck and back protesting while his stomach growled for nourishment. He’d forgotten to eat again. And now sundown was fast approaching.
But the boots were done.
Rich brown leather with swirling tan inlays that reminded Simon of angel wings. The singer had been specific about what he wanted on his boots. And Simon had been determined to oblige the man. Especially since he was paying good money for these one-of-a-kind boots.
Simon was methodical and meticulous about his craft. Making a pair of custom boots could take weeks or months, depending on the entire process and the customer’s request.
But at the end of the day, Simon could always know he’d given it his best. And that’s why he had orders well into the next couple of years. He was blessed to do something he loved. Blessed to have busy work.
He was blessed to have something to do to keep his mind off the ever-present loneliness that always set in at dusk—that time of day when loved ones came home from work and families gathered together to share their day and eat.
Looking at the clock, he figured his mother was probably getting ready for bed right now, nestled in her own cabin around the bend from the larger one Simon had shared for years with his brother Rick. It had been the family home when his father was alive but his mother had insisted on moving into the smaller one a few years ago. She’d done that so Simon and Marcy could have some privacy.
After Marcy’s death, Rick had somehow man aged to move back in part-time and he’d brought that aggravating mutt Shiloh with him. They made annoying roommates.
Simon didn’t want or need the company. Or so he thought. Now he was alone in the big cabin next to his studio.
Rick had gone and gotten himself married to cute little Cari Duncan. What a match that had turned out to be. Now they lived in town for the most part, in the big Victorian house Cari had renovated, conveniently located right next door to the general store. Cari ran her own “girlie” boutique on the bottom floor of the house and they lived in the spacious upstairs apartment and sometimes came out to the Adams compound on the weekends.
Yeah, a match made in Heaven.
He’d had that once, Simon thought now as he rummaged through the pantry for a can of soup.
Once.
But not anymore. Never again for him.
He couldn’t help but wonder what his neighbors were doing tonight. He’d managed to steer clear of Shanna and the Seven NoiseMakers for most of their second day here, thankfully. Not that he was counting.
Now, he’d almost welcome some noise, some shouts, some sort of accident waiting to happen.
Turning to Shiloh, he said, “I guess it’s just you and me, dog. Maybe my lovesick brother will remember you’re actually his and come and fetch you soon.”
Shiloh barked a gruff rebuttal.
But both Simon and the dog knew they only had each other tonight. And probably for many nights to come. It would have to do. And Simon was pretty sure Rick left Shiloh here on purpose for that very reason, even though his brother used the excuse of big dogs being like bulls in a china shop when it came to the general store.
Simon heated up the can of beefy soup his mother had brought in with her weekly supply of groceries earlier in the week and sat down to watch an old western on the cable channel.
The phone rang right on time. “Goof grief, Mama, why can’t you ever just let a man be?” He said this out loud before he actually answered the phone. “Hello, Ma.”
“Did you eat?”
“I’m eating right now.”
“It’s a little late for supper, Simon.”
“I worked late.”
“You always work late.”
“I
