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“You aren’t going to come to church with us, are you?”
The second the question was out of her mouth, she bit down on the inside of her cheek. She’d never confronted someone about not attending church. She didn’t confront anyone about anything, if possible.
Chance’s gaze narrowed on her face, every line in his body rigid. “I need to get settled in.”
Tanya knew from the expression on her new tenant’s handsome face that any further discussion was unwelcome. “I’m sorry I brought up the subject. I just assumed you believed.”
“Because I’m friends with Samuel?”
She nodded.
“I guess Samuel would say I’m the lost sheep he’s trying to bring back to the fold.”
THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:
Like a wedding ring, this circle
of friends is never ending
MARGARET DALEY
feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and participated in many sports with her students.
Tidings of Joy
Margaret Daley
MILLS & BOON
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And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see
you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy
no man taketh from you.
—John 16:22
To my family—I love you
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
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Chance Taylor stepped off the bus and surveyed the town, which was nothing like where he’d spent the past two years. Yet, for a few seconds he fought the overwhelming urge to get back on the bus. Because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t. Not until he’d paid his debt.
The bus pulled away from the curb, leaving him behind. No escape now. The beating of his heart kicked up a notch. Chance glanced up and down the street. Sweetwater. It was exactly as Tom Bolton had described it. Quaint stores lined its Main Street. A row of Bradford pear trees down both sides of the road offered shade in the heat of summer. Even though it was the end of September, the hot air caused sweat to pop out on his forehead.
He closed his eyes to the vivid colors spread out before him—a red sign above a door, yellow pansies about the base of the trees along the street. He’d lived in a world he’d thought of as black-and-white. Now every hue of the rainbow bombarded him from all sides. Opening his eyes to the new world around him, he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then grabbed the one duffel bag with all his earthly possessions and strode toward Alice’s Café.
Inside he scanned the diners, all engrossed in their food and conversation. People doing normal, everyday things with no idea how their life could change in a split second. But he knew.
Drawing in a deep breath, Chance took a moment to compose himself. Again the question flashed across his mind: why had he come to Sweetwater? Surely there was a better place, one he could get lost in. New York City. Chicago. Even Louisville would have been better than this small town, where according to Tom, everyone watched out for each other. He didn’t want that. Nosy neighbors had led to his destruction in the past. But Sweetwater was the only place where he could fulfill his promise to himself. He was stuck here for the time being, but once he had paid his debt, he would leave as fast as a bus could take him out of town.
Chance saw Samuel Morgan in the back booth and headed toward him. Aware of a few glances thrown his way, Chance hurried over, placed his duffel bag on the floor, then slid in across from Samuel, his back to the other diners.
Samuel grinned. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I said I would. About the only thing I have left is my word.”
“Tom’s death wasn’t your fault. He made his choice.”
“I have a chance to return a favor. I intend to. That’s the least I can do.”
A waitress with a pencil behind her left ear paused near Samuel and dug into her apron pocket for a pad.
“Want something to eat?” Samuel asked.
Chance shook his head, aware of the open curiosity in the older woman’s gaze. His stomach tightened. He should be used to people watching him, having spent the
