Hosea's Bride

Chapter One

“Hello, the house!”

Angela smiled at the familiar call. “I’m in the library, Leigh.”

“Where else?” The sound of footsteps approached down the hallway. A shiny curtain of smooth red hair swung into Angela’s view as Leigh Roberts stuck her head around the door casing. “You don’t look ready to leave for the welcome dinner at church. How much longer will you be?”

Angela stopped typing and smiled at her best friend. “Give me ten more minutes.”

“That’s cutting it pretty close. I want to make a good impression on the new pastor, and so should you.” Leigh waggled her eyebrows. “He’s young and single, you know. And I hear he’s a hunk.”

Angela laughed. “I’m supposed to be the information expert. I swear, Leigh, if I had your sources I’d be a millionaire.”

“No doubt.” Leigh grinned, then gave an audible sniff. “What is that divine smell?”

“I’m experimenting with a new cinnamon syrup to pour on the apple pies they asked me to bake for the welcome dinner. Have a taste. I’ll be right along.” Angela waved her friend off to the kitchen and turned back to her computer.

“There he is.” Leigh’s green eyes widened. “Wow! He is a hunk.”

Laughing at her friend’s enthusiastic, under-her-breath comment, Angela turned to follow the direction of Leigh’s appreciative gaze and found herself looking straight into her past. It was so unexpected she could only stare as her past and present walked toward her in the form of their new, tall, blond pastor.

“Angela? What’s wrong?”

Leigh’s sudden grip on her arm broke the numbing paralysis of the shock. Angela shook her head. “Nothing.” She had to get out of there before he saw her! If she could reach the back door—

“Nothing?” Leigh stared at her friend. “You’re as white as that little lie you just told me.” She pulled a chair forward. “Sit down before you pass out. I’ll go get you some water, unless—” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Angela’s face. “Are you going to be ill? Do you need me to help you to the ladies’ room?”

The ladies’ room! She would be safe there until she could think what to do. Angela shot Leigh a look of gratitude and shook her head. “No, thanks. I can make it on my own. You stay here. I’ll—”

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet our new pastor.”

Too late! Angela’s stomach heaved. Lord, don’t let me be sick. She drew a long, deep breath, rose to her feet and turned around as Walter Foster, one of the elders of the church, continued his introduction.

“Pastor Stevens, this is Leigh Roberts and Angela Warren. They are in charge of special activities. If you need someone to come up with interesting ideas for outings, make unusual and beautiful decorations, or research a missionary project these are the women you call on.”

Hosea Stevens smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He reached for Leigh’s extended hand. “Do I address you as Miss or Mrs. Roberts? Or do you prefer Ms.?”

Leigh laughed. “Ms. is too generic a term for my liking, Pastor Stevens. And I’m not a Mrs. for a few months yet. Actually, it’s Dr. Roberts. But that’s too formal. Call me Leigh—everyone does.”

“Then Leigh it is.” The pastor gave her another smile and turned to take Angela’s offered hand.

“And you, Angela Warren?” His gaze skimmed over her face. “Are you married or modern or—?”

“It’s Miss Warren, Pastor Stevens. I’m not married, or modern.” His strong fingers curled more tightly around her hand.

“You’re shaking, Miss Warren. And your hand is like ice. Are you ill?”

There was genuine concern in his voice. Angela’s eyes filled. It had been six years, but she remembered that concern. She shook her head and looked down at their joined hands. Father God, please—make him let go of my hand. Help me to get out of here! She gave a little tug and Pastor Stevens released her hand.

“You are pale, Angela.” Walter Foster stepped closer and laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you should take her home, Leigh.”

“No! I—I mean, no…please.” The last thing she wanted was Leigh fussing over her and asking her questions. Angela forced a smile. “There’s no reason for Leigh to miss the meeting. I’m perfectly capable of taking myself home.”

She didn’t dare look at Hosea Stevens. Instead, she grabbed the purse she’d laid on the table and turned toward her friend. “Leigh, can you—?”

“Don’t worry about me, Angela. Barbara Adams can drop me off at your place to pick up my car.” Leigh’s voice took on its professional tone as she studied Angela’s face. “Are you certain you’re able to drive home?”

Angela nodded her head. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll expect a full report on the meeting in the morning.” She opened her purse and searched for her car keys as an excuse not to have to look at the men. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me—” She jumped as Leigh’s hand touched her forehead.

“You don’t have a fever, Angela, but still, I think you must have picked up that summer flu bug that’s going around. Drink lots of liquids, and go straight to bed. And if you need anything, call me. Otherwise, I’ll check on you tomorrow, I won’t wake you when I get the car.”

Angela nodded and turned toward the exit.

“I hope you feel better soon, Miss Warren. We’ll remember you in our prayers.”

Angela paused with her hand on the push bar of the glass door and glanced back over her shoulder. “Thank you, Pastor Stevens.” A shiver ran through her as their gazes touched. Quickly, she pushed the door open, stepped out into the warm summer evening and hurried to her car.

The keys in Angela’s hand jingled as another nervous tremor shook her body. She stared down at them, frowned, then slowly lifted her head and swept a startled gaze around her bedroom. She didn’t remember driving home.

Dropping the keys onto her dresser, she hurried to the dormer windows and yanked the curtains closed. Even here, in the place that had been her home for the last six years, she felt exposed. Was there no place she could be safe from the past?

Angela turned and threw herself onto the bed as the pain in her heart swelled and spread. She had worked so hard to leave her past behind. No one in the town of Harmony knew about her—no one—until now.

Oh, why had Pastor Hosea Stevens come here?

A sob erupted from Angela’s throat into the quiet of the room. She buried her face in her pillow as the tears began to flow.

“Hello?”

“Angela! Finally! If that machine had answered one more time I was going to get in the car and drive over there.”

“Hello, Leigh.”

“Hi. Sorry about that tirade, but this is the third time I’ve called, and I was getting worried. How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” Angela rolled over onto her back and covered her swollen, burning eyes with her free arm.

“I’m not surprised. I’ve never seen the flu hit anyone so hard or fast. I thought you were going to faint.” There was a significant pause. “Our new pastor seemed quite concerned about you.”

Oh, no! Angela bolted to a sitting position. She could almost hear Leigh’s eyebrows waggling over the phone, and the last thing she needed was for her friend to start playing matchmaker.

“No comment, eh? All right. All right. Your silence is shouting at me. We’ll discuss Pastor Stevens another time. Is there anything you need? Chicken soup or something?” Leigh’s low laughter came floating over the wire. “Not that I can make any. But I can run to the store and buy you some.”

Angela sank back down onto her pillow and covered her eyes. Her head was spinning from her sudden movement. “Thanks, Leigh, but I’m fine for now.”

“Okay. I’ll hang up so you can rest. But if you’re not better by tomorrow I’m paying you a professional visit after church. Even OBs know how to treat the flu. Oops—I’m being paged. Call if you need me. Bye.”

Church? Tomorrow was Sunday! Angela’s stomach churned. She slammed the receiver down and ran for the bathroom. What was she to do about church? What was she to do about her life?

She reached the bathroom just in time.

The teakettle whistled.

Angela read the Bible verses one more time, then went to make her tea as she pondered them. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

The words were comforting, but were they her answer? Angela carried her tea back to the table and read the verses again. They would certainly apply to—

The sharp ring of the telephone made her jump. She started toward the counter to pick up the receiver, then stopped. What if it was him? She held her breath, waiting for the answering machine to click on.

“Miss Warren? This is Pastor Stevens. I’m calling to see how you’re feeling.”

Hosea Stevens’s deep, rich voice filled the small kitchen.

“I hope the fact that your machine has answered means you are up and about. But until I know for certain I will keep you in my prayers.”

No! She didn’t want him thinking about her.

“By the way, I understand I have you to thank for the delicious apple pie. That cinnamon syrup was wonderful! I’d move halfway across the country for a treat like that anytime.” There was a low, soft chuckle. “Don’t tell my mother, though, she prides herself on her baking.” The machine clicked off.

Angela took a deep breath and glanced down at her Bible on the table. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart….”

The words seemed to leap off the page at her. For a long moment she stood staring down at them; then, slowly, she sank down onto the chair. She did trust the Lord—but Pastor Hosea Stevens was another matter. One word from him about her past, and her life in Harmony would be ruined. Leigh and the other friends she had made would certainly shun her. She hadn’t the strength or courage to face that. She would have to move and start again.

Tears filled Angela’s eyes. Things had been going so well. Was she to be punished all her life for her past sin? She crossed her arms over the Bible and hid her face against them, consumed by shame.

“Lord, I know I deserve whatever happens. But I’m so sorry for the things I’ve done. And I know I’ve asked You many times before, but I ask You again to forgive me. Oh, Lord, please forgive me. And help me, Lord. Help me to trust You for the answer to this situation. I ask it in Your precious, holy name. Amen.”

Angela drew a deep breath and rose to her feet. There was a scripture in the book of James that said something about faith without works being dead—she didn’t want to be guilty of that. She was going to have to do something tangible to prove she trusted the Lord.

With a sigh that came all the way from her toes, Angela closed her Bible, picked up her cup of tea, and, against all her own instinct and desire, headed for the bedroom to select the outfit she would wear to church tomorrow.

“Wow! He looks like a dream, and preaches like a house afire.” Leigh clapped her hand over her heart and rolled her eyes toward heaven. “I think I’m in love!”

Nervous as she was, Angela couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s outrageous enthusiasm. “Better not let your fiancé hear you say that.” She glanced over her shoulder at them both as she filed out of the row.

Leigh laughed and followed her. “Phil understands. Don’t you, Phil?” She grinned at the exaggerated growl of agreement from her intended, put her hand on Angela’s shoulder and tugged. “Hey, what’s the big rush? I’m knocking into people here.” She smiled down at the older woman beside her. “Sorry, Mrs. Boyer.”

Angela slowed her steps, then had to stop entirely for a toddler that escaped his mother’s grasp and darted in front of her. People closed in around her. She’d never seen the church so crowded. Had the entire membership turned out to hear the new pastor preach his first sermon?

She raised up on tiptoe to scan the crowd for a less congested pathway to the door and her heart sank. There was no reason to hurry now—Hosea Stevens was already at the front doors shaking hands. How had he made it through the press of people so quickly?

Angela frowned, and darted a glance toward the side exits. Maybe she could avoid him that way. An elbow jabbed into her ribs. She sighed. It was no use—she would never be able to reach those doors through the crush of people. She took a firmer grip on her Bible and inched her way forward with the crowd.

“Miss Warren!” Hosea Stevens smiled and reached for her hand. “I’m so pleased you are feeling well enough to attend this morning’s service. Are you fully recovered?”

“Not fully, Pastor Stevens, but with the Lord’s help I will be.”

“Amen to that. The Lord never fails. And you, Leigh—” Hosea released her hand and turned toward her friend. “I’m happy to see you….”

Their voices faded away as Angela stepped through the open door and almost danced her way down the stairs to the sidewalk. He didn’t recognize her! She had been worrying over nothing.

“Angela. Wait a minute!” Leigh dodged around an elderly couple on the sidewalk and hurried toward her. “Phil and I are going to Romans for lunch with Patty and Doug and we want you to come.”

Angela looked over at the people waiting for Leigh by Phil’s car. “I don’t think so, Leigh. I’d be a fifth wheel and—”

“Angela Warren, you know none of us feel like that! Now, come on, it’ll be fun.” Leigh linked her arm through Angela’s and started back toward the others. “But…if you’re serious about that fifth wheel thing, I could invite Phil’s brother Bob.”

Angela dug in her heels and Leigh almost tripped. She heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right—no men for you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. But I still don’t see what you have against them.” Leigh brushed a long lock of red hair back out of her eyes and started walking again. “Every single man in this church between the ages of—no, just make that every single man in this church—is crazy about you, Angela. And you won’t give any of them a chance. I don’t get it.” She gave her a sidelong look. “Some of them are really nice.”

“I know they are, Leigh.” Angela met Leigh’s gaze. “We’ve been over this before. I just don’t want any romantic involvement with anyone. I like my life the way it is. Okay?”

“Okay.” Leigh lifted her mouth in a roguish grin. “But you may not have any say in the matter.”

Angela stopped walking and stared up at her. “What does that mean? What are you talking about?”

Leigh’s grin grew wider. “I’ve been praying for you. That’s what I’m talking about. Now come on.” She linked her arm through Angela’s and tugged. “Phil made reservations for one o’clock and I don’t want to lose our table—I’m starving!”

Chapter Two

“Ball one!”

“Way to go, Angela! That’s the way to read ’em.”

Angela swept off her ball cap, bowed to Leigh who was taking a long lead off first base, then replaced her cap and tugged it low to hide her face. Her gaze lifted to the man on the pitcher’s mound. So much for hiding in the crowd at the church picnic. She should never have come. Four weeks since his arrival, and she was still a nervous wreck. She tugged the cap lower and lifted the bat into position.

Hosea Stevens wound up and pitched the ball.

“Strrrike one!”

Leigh scurried back to first as Phil caught the pitch and threw it to Seth Pickard.

“You’ve got to be faster than that, Phil, this woman of yours runs like a deer!” Leigh waggled her eyebrows at him. Seth laughed, and threw the ball to Hosea.

Leigh inched off base again.

Hosea wound up and pitched it right down the middle.

Crack!

Leigh let out a whoop, and took off running as Angela dropped the bat and dashed for first base.

The ball whizzed out to center field. Bill Stoner scooped it up and threw to Lou Harris at third base. Leigh skidded to a halt, spun around, dashed back to second base, grinned and gave Angela, who had returned to first, a thumbs-up. “Good hit!”

“Thanks.” Angela drew a deep breath and glanced toward home plate. “Come on, Debby, hit us in!” Please hit us in, she begged silently. I want out of here! Her gaze shifted to Hosea Stevens as he began his windup. She pulled her thoughts back to the business at hand and inched her way off base.

Hosea pitched another perfect strike.

Crack!

Debby popped it up, and Angela took off for second base.

Hosea faded back, leaped into the air, caught the ball for out number one, threw it to Lou Harris at third, who tagged a laughing, dodging Leigh for out number two, and threw it to Bart Williams at second.

Angela skidded to a halt, let out a squeal, and spun around to head back to first. She froze in place. Hosea Stevens was standing not ten feet away between her and first base. He caught the ball Bart lobbed to him, grinned, and started a slow advance toward her. She backed up. Hosea’s grin widened. He locked his gaze on hers and took another step toward her. Her stomach jittered.

Not him, Lord. Please, not him!

Angela shoved her hands out toward Hosea, palms foremost, took another step backward, then spun about and almost crashed into Bart who had sneaked up be hind her.

Bart laughed, caught the ball Hosea tossed him and tapped Angela lightly on her shoulder. “Whooeee…triple play! That’s the game, folks! Let’s go eat!”

“Great game, Slider.” Bart slapped Hosea on the shoulder and trotted off to join the rest of the players that were headed toward the shaded tables under the pavilions along the river.

“Slider?” Leigh stopped beside Angela and gaped at Hosea. “You’re Slider Stevens?”

“I used to be.”

“Well, no wonder we lost!”

Hosea laughed.

Phil draped his arm around Leigh’s shoulders and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “That’s my little competitor talking, Pastor.” He laughed down at Leigh. “He went easy on you, sweetheart. Do you think any of you would have gotten a hit if he hadn’t?”

“Judas! You should have told me.” Leigh aimed a playful punch at Phil’s stomach. He caught her hand and kissed it.

Angela smiled at their antics and glanced at Hosea. “I guess I missed something. I don’t understand the significance of Slider Stevens.”

His gaze met hers. “That’s because it has no significance, now. It’s just a name out of my past. I picked it up when I played college ball.”

“Oh.” Angela’s composure unraveled. Had he remembered her other name?

Leigh gave a disdainful snort and ducked out from under Phil’s arm. “‘Played college ball’—hah! That’s an understatement. He was the best, Angela. Don’t you remember all that publicity when he was being wooed by the major league teams?”

Angela shook her head and turned away, too distracted by her thoughts to take part in the conversation.

“Well, I sure do.” Phil looked at Hosea. “You were offered a huge contract, but you never signed. I always wondered why someone with your talent gave up such a fantastic chance.”

“Well, wonder no more. There’s a very simple answer.” Hosea scooped up a ball someone had dropped and stepped over to toss it into a basket full of equipment. “God had a different plan for my life—I went to Bible college.”

“And gave up all those millions? Not to mention the fame, and the adulation of baseball fans everywhere.”

Phil’s incredulous tone penetrated Angela’s preoccupation. She glanced over at Hosea Stevens. Had he done that?

Hosea pulled off his cap and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I gained far more than I gave up, Phil. It was the best decision I’ve ever made. I gained riches beyond value.” He tugged his cap back on. “Now…I think Bart had the right idea. I know I’ve worked up a healthy appetite. Anyone care to join me at the picnic table?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Phil laughed and draped his arm around Leigh again. “Food always sounds good to you, my sweet.”

“True.” She grinned up at him. “But, I happen to know Angela brought her famous potato salad, and her even more famous strawberry shortcake.”

Phil rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Say no more—let’s go!” He slid his hand down to catch hold of Leigh’s and took off at a dead run toward the tables.

Hosea laughed. “I guess they’re hungry.”

They were alone! Angela forced a smile. “Yes. Hungry and energetic.” She started walking toward the tables. There was safety in numbers, and if she could just reach the crowd she could get away from him.

“Famous potato salad, and even more famous strawberry shortcake, huh? I’ve got to have some of that.”

Angela’s nerves tingled as Hosea fell into step beside her. She wiped her moist palms against her khaki shorts and stared down at the grass. “Then you’d better know, Pastor Stevens, that ‘famous’ is an exaggeration.”

“I hope not, Miss Warren. But, to be honest, it probably wouldn’t matter at this point. I’m hungry as a bear coming out of hibernation.”

Angela glanced up at him from beneath the brim of her baseball cap and her stomach went all jittery again. She jerked her gaze away from his face and took a deep breath. “Excuse me, Pastor Stevens, I have to get the whipped cream from my car.”

Veering off to the right, she headed for the parking lot to compose herself. She could feel his gaze following her all the way.

Millions of dollars. Had he really given up millions of dollars?

Angela leaned against a tree, sipped her iced tea and watched Hosea Stevens laugh, talk and hand out roasted corn to all comers. He couldn’t be more alien to her if he had suddenly grown fur and a tail. Her stepfather and Tony would have killed for that much money. It was inconceivable to her that this man had willingly given it up to obey the Lord.

Angela frowned and studied Hosea Stevens’s face. What had he answered Phil?…I gained riches beyond value. Did he truly mean that?

“What are you looking so serious, about? Don’t you know this is a picnic?”

Angela jumped and looked up at Alan Curtis, another church member. He smiled down at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But you looked so solemn—and at least a thousand miles away.”

“No, I’m right here.” Angela gave him a polite smile and pushed away from the tree. “And now, I’m going over there, and try a piece of that coconut cake Emily brought. It looks wonderful.” She headed toward the dessert table.

“I don’t know about the cake—but I can highly recommend the strawberry shortcake.” Alan turned to walk beside her. “What do you do to those biscuits?”

“Ah, that’s a secret.”

“Well it’s a secret worth money.” He smiled again. “You could probably sell the recipe to one of those famous chefs for big bucks.”

“Why, thank you, sir.”

Big bucks. Millions of dollars. Angela lifted her gaze beyond Alan to the bonfire where the corn was roasting—to where Hosea was pulling back the shucks and handing it out to the laughing, chatting members of his congregation. No man willingly gave up millions of dollars. There had to be a reason.

She turned back to the table and gave Alan an absent smile as he handed her a piece of the coconut cake. She would find that reason when she got home. As she’d reminded Leigh, information was her specialty. For now, she’d stay hidden in the crowd at the table. She picked up a napkin and plastic fork and took a seat.

“Come on, Angela! They’re lining up for the water balloon toss, and we need another woman.”

Angela sighed and gave up as Leigh grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet. There was just no way she could stay lost in the crowd with Leigh around.

“There’s Phil.” Leigh waved her free hand through the air to catch his attention as they trotted forward. “Here we are!”

Angela’s heart sank as she spotted Hosea Stevens lined up beside Phil on the other side of the open field. Leigh. This had her matchmaking fingerprints all over it. She stopped short. “Leigh, I don’t—” The shrill blow of a whistle cut off her protest. Leigh tugged her into place on the line.

“Well…now that we’re all here.” Walter Foster looked pointedly at Leigh and laughed when she grinned and curtsied to him. “Let’s begin.” He glanced around. “You all know the rules. You throw the balloon to your partner. When everyone has thrown their balloon, I’ll blow my whistle and you all take a step backward before your partner throws it back to you. You’re out of the contest as soon as your balloon breaks. Okay?”

There was a chorus of agreement.

“All right. Men…hold up your balloons! Ladies…check the color of your partner’s balloon. We’ve separated them so if somebody throws a wild one at you you’ll know in time to dodge it!” He glanced around to make sure everyone was ready while people laughed and shouted threats at one another. “Okay, last couple on the field wins all the extra balloons!”

He waved the half-empty bag over his head and hurried out of the cleared area to the accompaniment of the good-natured insults called out at the offered prize. When he reached the safety of the sidelines he turned and lifted his hand. Everyone quieted and looked at their partner.

“Ready…set…Go!”

Two dozen multicolored balloons wobbled through the air.

Angela caught the blue one Hosea threw to her, instinctively drawing her hands down and backward to ease the contact.

There was a sharp squeal to Leigh’s left. Another farther down the line.

Cold water spattered Angela’s sun-warmed legs as a balloon burst on the ground beside her. She jumped.

“Sorry, Angela, you got more of that than I did.” Sandra Collins laughed and trotted off the field with the other women whose balloons had broken.

The whistle blew. The remaining players took a step back.

Angela judged the new distance and threw the balloon to Hosea. Water splashed everywhere as wildly thrown balloons broke and spewed their contents on whoever happened to be in the way.

Hosea caught hers, then burst into laughter as another smacked against his shoulder and sprayed him with water. He held the dripping remnant of the wayward balloon out to Lou Harris. “I believe this belongs to you, sir?”

Lou accepted it with a bow.

The crowd laughed.

The whistle blew.

Angela stepped back. Hosea looked at her over the widening space. Thank goodness they were moving farther apart. She felt naked without the baseball cap. Lord, don’t let him remember. Please—

Whap!

Angela gasped as the blue balloon broke against her abdomen and cold water soaked through her cotton shirt and khaki shorts. Idiot! You closed your eyes. She shook her head at her foolishness, and tugged her wet shirt out away from her body. “Woo-hoo! Only three more to go and we win, Phil!” Leigh looked over at her friend and grinned. “Sorry, Angela.”

Angela laughed. “Yeah, I can tell.” She dropped back out of harm’s way and trotted off the field as the whistle sounded again.

Hosea Stevens met her at the edge of the crowd.

She sucked in a breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Pastor. I cost you a half bag of balloons.”

He grinned down at her. “I think I can manage to live through the disappointment.” His gaze sought hers. “I’m sorry about the soaking.”

Angela turned away to look back at the field. “My fault entirely.” There was a sudden burst of applause. “Besides, it seems to have worked out well for Leigh and Phil.” She gave him a quick glance. “Excuse me, I have to go congratulate them.”

Relieved at the excuse to leave his company, she trotted off to join her friends.

Angela stared at the computer screen. She’d been so eager to check the information on Hosea “Slider” Stevens, she hadn’t even changed out of her picnic clothes, and she’d found nothing questionable. She checked her files, her sources of information again. There was nothing. No illness, injury or family problems. No breath of scandal or unexplained absences for any block of time. All she could find confirmed Hosea’s statement. He had simply walked away from the millions of dollars offered him to play professional ball. And that included a signing bonus in a previously unheard of amount for a rookie.

She shook her head and scanned the copy of the newspaper reports again. There was nothing else to check. Nowhere else to go for information. What he had said was true. But, how could it be? She must have missed something. Men weren’t like that.

Angela closed her eyes, rubbed her temples and rotated her neck. Maybe she was just tired. It had been a long day. She’d check things over again tomorrow. She turned off the computer, climbed the stairs and prepared for bed. The softness of the mattress felt lovely after the physical activity of the day. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Father, for the blessings of this day. Thank you for the lovely weather and the picnic….”

An image of Hosea Stevens’s face implanted itself on Angela’s mind stopping her words. She popped her eyes open, flopped onto her back and frowned. The man was a torment to her. What was she to do?

“What do You want from me, Lord? What are You after? Why did You bring him here?”

There was no answer to her whispered words. Angela sighed, and turned on the light. The pleasant tiredness of the day was gone. There was only a restless confusion swirling through her brain.

She grabbed her pillows, propped them against the head of the bed and reached for the book she’d left on her nightstand. Reading about the hair-raising adventures of the brooding, dark-haired, brown-eyed espionage agent would not only get her thoughts off her troubles, it would drive the image of the blond, blue-eyed, square-jawed Hosea Stevens out of her mind.

Hosea flipped his baseball cap onto the shelf, laid his glove beside it and closed the closet door. It had been a fun day. And the church picnic had given him a valuable glimpse of the members of his new congregation in a relaxed setting. He was already learning their individual personalities and quirks. Like Leigh Roberts’s love of food. He grinned, stripped off his clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket. The woman ate like a linebacker! How did she stay so thin? Angela Warren on the other hand—she’d merely picked at her food.