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What am I doing? Darcy thought. I have no business thinking about Joshua Markham in any terms other than a firefighter and an acquaintance.
She started to switch on the engine and leave before anyone knew they were at the firehouse. Too late. Joshua waved from the door and strode toward her and her son.
“See, he’s expecting us,” Sean said.
Darcy wanted to hide. She felt the heat suffuse her cheeks as the man walked to the truck, a smile of greeting on his face. The first thing she thought about was the dusty jeans she wore and the old, worn shirt. Why hadn’t she changed before coming into town? And why did she care?
Joshua stopped on her side of the truck, his face framed in the window, only a few inches from her. She rolled down the window and forced a smile to her lips. “Is this a bad time to visit?”
Please let it be, she silently added, responding to his heart-melting grin. Her pulse accelerated.
THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:
Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends is neverending.
GOLD IN THE FIRE (LI #273)
A MOTHER FOR CINDY (LI #283)
LIGHT IN THE STORM (LI #297)
MARGARET DALEY
feels she has been blessed. She has been married for thirty-three years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun, who married his high school sweetheart in June 2002.
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 has participated in many sports with her students.
Gold in the Fire
Margaret Daley
MILLS & BOON
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These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
—1 Peter 1:7
To Laura Marie Altom, a friend who helped me find where I belonged as a writer.
Thank you.
To Paige Wheeler, my agent, who has been a great support.
Thank you.
To Ann Leslie Tuttle and Diane Dietz, my two editors at Love Inspired, who have believed in me.
Thank 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
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
Darcy O’Brien’s hands shook as she brushed her hair behind her ears. She stared down at her fingers, covered with soot, the black reminding her of the charred remains of the barn only yards away. The heat from the fire chased away the early-morning chill. Smoke curled upward from the darkened boards to disappear in the fog that had rolled in to encase her in a gray cocoon. But there was nothing protective and safe about her surroundings.
Eerie. Unearthly. Darcy shivered and hugged her arms to her.
“Ma’am?”
The sound of a deep, husky voice floated to her from the swirls of smoke and fog. Her eyes stung as she searched the yard. Emerging from the shroud of gray a man appeared, dressed in a black jacket with yellow strips and black pants. He removed his fire helmet and cradled it under his arm. Dark brown hair, damp from sweat, lay at odd angles. Black smudges highlighted the hard angles of his face and emphasized the blueness of his eyes. For just a moment Darcy thought of a warrior striding purposefully toward her.
“Yes, may I help you?” she asked, pushing away her fantasy.
“That man over there said you’re the one in charge.” The firefighter tossed his head in the direction of Jake, one of the grooms.
The idea that she was in charge weighed heavily on her shoulders, even though it was only for a few months. She straightened, ignoring the exhaustion that cleaved to every part of her. “Yes, I am.”
The firefighter stuck his hand out. “I’m Joshua Markham. I conduct the arson investigations for the department.”
“Arson?”
The strong feel of his handshake reassured her. For a few seconds she forgot the past couple of hours. Then she remembered pulling the frightened horses to safety, watching the barn go up in flames, the scent of burned wood heavy in the air. But mostly she remembered trying to persuade her father to return to the main house before he collapsed. That had been the hardest task of all.
“Yes,
